#i am gonna write a longer post about this

[danysdaughter]

(first off, i adored come home to me so much)

can u pls do one where bucky and the reader knew each other before the hydra thing, but they both ended up in hydra's clutches, and instead of completely dehumanizing the two, zola programmed them to be some form of ally/handler situation, so when they both break out of hydra's clutches it gets very angsty and they argue/hate each other because they don't know if their bond was them or hydra-made. and then the ending's up to you.

no srsly, ur writing is literal art. its like fantastic in ways i cant describe.

i can die happy if u'll take this idea.

did I go a bit overboard? yes. do i have any regrets? no. I really tried to make it as you described, babe, hope you enjoy 💕

The Soldier and The Vixen

pairing | 40s!bucky x fem!reader & winter!soldier x fem!reader & post!tfatws!bucky x reader

word count | 14k words

summary | Once comrades bound by war and affection, two soldiers-turned-weapons are reshaped into monsters by Hydra, their humanity fractured and memories blurred.

Now free but haunted, they struggle to untangle love from programming, grief from guilt, and healing from the wreckage of who they used to be

tags | ANGST! ANGST! and more ANGST! graphic violence, torture, emotional trauma, brainwashing, PTSD, abuse, trauma bonding, psychological manipulation, non-consensual experimentation, abuse, power imbalance, gore, unhealthy attachment, angst/no comfort, miscommunication, mutual destruction (a bit too much?)

a/n | wowww, I am not gonna lie, I actually cried while writing this, also this fic explores dark themes with little to no comfort (we die like men)

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

Village Outskirts, France, 1945

The earth was damp beneath your stomach. Rain must’ve come through earlier — you could smell it in the mud, the churned-up grass, the faint rot of old stone and war.

Through your scope, you watched two Hydra guards lounging outside a crumbling checkpoint. They were smoking and laughing about something in German, distracted, backs too often to each other. Sloppy.

You pressed the button on your radio once, holding it close to your mouth. “Movement. Two guards at the eastern entry. Smoking. Lazy. Easy targets.”

There was a short pause.

Then Bucky’s voice crackled through, “Fox, you always know how to sweet-talk a guy.”

You almost smiled. Almost, “Only the ones who talk less than they shoot, Sarge.”

A muffled laugh came through the line. Morita muttered something you didn't quite catch, probably teasing Bucky again. He was an easy target.

“You got him good,” Dum Dum grinned from somewhere behind you.

Steve’s voice cut in — level, steady. “Enough chatter. Fox, take the lead. We move on your signal.”

But you were already moving.

You didn't need backup for this. The hill rolled down into a slope that gave you full cover, and you slipped down it like water over rock. Quiet. Efficient. Knife drawn. You counted your steps with your breath. When the first guard turned his back, you were already there.

One sharp jab under the ribs. Drag him behind a crate.

The second didn't even turn in time.

Ten seconds. Two bodies. No gunfire.

You tapped your radio again.

“Checkpoint clear.”

As you were climbing back up toward the rendezvous, Bucky was waiting at the top of the ridge, crouched behind a low wall. He glanced at you, smirking.

“Miss me?”

You scoffed, brushing dirt from your sleeves. “I was gone ninety seconds.”

“That’s longer than I like you being out of sight.”

You arched a brow. “Is that concern, Sergeant Barnes?”

“It’s tactical observation, doll.”

There it was — the nickname again. You didn't bite. Bucky flirted with anything that had a skirt, and you were the only girl on the team. You’d learned not to take him seriously.

Behind you, Gabe whispered over the comm, “God, just kiss already.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Bucky turned sharply and pretended to check his rifle. He didn't say another word. You frowned, completely missing the flush rising in his cheeks.

You shook your head, then returned to the task. The rest of the unit fellin. You walked point. Bucky took his usual position at your flank, and the rest of the squad fell into formation like a well-oiled machine.

The village ahead was half-destroyed from past shelling. Stone walls broken down to the foundation. Trees blackened by fire. The kind of place where shadows hid snipers and death sat behind every door.

You spotted it first — a tripwire buried in the dirt, nearly invisible. You paused, raised your fist to halt the line, then rerouted them five feet to the left.

Dum Dum muttered, “You’ve got eyes like a hawk.”

“I’ve got better things to do than walk into obvious traps,” you muttered back.

You didn't make it twenty feet past the tripwire before you heard the explosion — further down, where another route would’ve taken you.

“Hydra knows we’re here,” you said into the radio. “Get to cover. Rooftops—snipers at twelve o’clock.”

The first shot cut through the air a moment later.

You hit the ground, narrowly dodging the bullet. Dust sprayed over your face. A hand grabbed your vest — yanked you behind a broken column.

Bucky.

He positioned himself between you and the direction the shot came from, body tense.

“I had it under control,” you whispered.

He didn't even blink. “Didn’t say you didn’t.”

He was still too close. Too steady. His eyes flickered to you, just for a second, like he was making sure you were still in one piece. You didn't notice. You never noticed.

You moved past him before he could say anything else.

Firefight erupted in bursts. The unit scattered into cover, returning fire. You darted through the alleys, knife flashing when you came across two patrols rounding the corner. Your blade slipped beneath ribs and across throats. You didn't flinch. You’ve done worse.

Bucky caught your eye across the street — both of you ducked behind separate walls. You tilted your head. He nodded once. You moved again, clearing a side stairwell while he took the main door.

“Tech’s inside that chapel,” Steve said over the comm. “Fox, Bucky, with me.”

You kicked the door open first. Bucky was right behind you.

He tossed a flash grenade — you shielded your eyes, waiting for the burst, and swept left as soon as it cleared. Two Hydra agents — you took one in the leg, knocked his rifle away, finished it with your knife. The second one came at you with a baton, but Bucky had already taken him down with a clean shot to the chest.

When it was over, the silence was louder than the fight.

The tech was here — something glowing with an unnatural blue pulse. You didn't go near it.

You turned to Bucky instead, breathless. Dust in your hair. Blood on your sleeve.

“Think this’ll finally get me a promotion?”

He was looking at you differently. A flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Maybe it was the way the light hit your face. Maybe it was the fact you were both still alive.

“You deserve a medal, Fox.”

You grinned, wiping blood from your cheek.

“Only if it’s chocolate.”

────────────────────────

Somewhere in the French Countryside, 1945

The mission had been hell, but tonight, the world was quiet.

The campfire crackled in the middle of a half-collapsed barn, broken beams overhead like the ribs of a long-dead beast. Outside, wind stirred through wheat fields. Inside, there was warmth — not from the fire, but from the laughter.

You sat with your knees pulled up, perched on an overturned crate. Your boots were still muddy. Blood on your sleeve had dried to a dark rust. Dum Dum had found a bottle of something vaguely alcoholic, and it’d been passed around in uneven sips.

Morita was telling a story — probably the fifth exaggerated war tale of the night — gesturing wildly with his hands.

“��and then this guy,” he pointed at Bucky with a dramatic flair, “says, ‘I got this,’ climbs onto the back of the Hydra truck barefoot, like a damn lunatic—”

“I didn’t think they’d be hot-wiring it in motion!” Bucky cut in defensively.

“That’s not even the dumbest part,” Gabe added, smirking. “The dumbest part is that he forgot the explosives.”

Laughter broke out around the fire. Bucky groaned and dropped his head back with a loud, sarcastic, “Thanks, fellas.”

You tried to hold in a laugh — and failed. He shot you a look, mock offended.

“You too, Fox?”

You shrugged, biting down on your grin. “Well. I was the one who had to double back and grab the damn charges.”

“She ran through enemy fire like it was a morning jog,” Steve added with a small, proud shake of his head.

Bucky nudged your shoulder with his. “Guess I owe you another one.”

“You’re keeping score now?” you asked, dryly.

He smirked. “Only when I’m losing.”

The fire cracked again, glowing warm across the faces of your brothers-in-arms. Everyone relaxed in a way they rarely could — backs against crates and sandbags, boots kicked off, dog tags clinking faintly as they leaned into one another’s stories.

Gabe tilted his head toward you, half-grinning. “Alright, Fox. What about you?”

You blinked. “What about me?”

“If you weren’t doing all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the barn. “If you weren’t dodging bullets and saving our sorry asses, what would you be doing?”

Immediately, you shook your head. “Nope.”

Cackling broke out around you. Morita leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, come on.”

“Not happening,” you said, waving them off.

“You gotta tell us now,” said Dum Dum. “That reaction alone just guaranteed it’s embarrassing.”

Bucky grinned beside you. “C’mon, Fox. We tell you our secrets. Like how Morita’s terrified of goats—”

“I am not—”

“—and how Dum Dum can’t wink without sneezing—”

“It’s a medical issue—”

“—so it’s only fair we get yours.”

You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “Fine. But if any of you ever breathe a word of this outside this barn, I will personally replace your shaving cream with gun grease.”

They leaned in, like children around a ghost story.

You looked into the fire, picking at the fraying seam of your glove. Then.

“I used to want to be a singer.”

Silence.

Then, chaos.

“No shit?”

“What kind?”

“Like on stage?”

“Do you have a stage name? Wait—please tell me it was Foxy somethin’—”

You groaned again, instantly regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

“It was just something I wanted when I was a kid,” you muttered. “Doesn’t mean I was any good.”

“But like, jazz club singer?” Dum Dum asked. “Torch songs?”

You didn’t answer. The heat in your cheeks did.

And then Gabe — bless him — decided to chime in, puffing his chest out like he had the perfect line.

“I mean… I just can’t picture you doing something that… you know. Girly.”

You turned your head toward him, slow and sharp.

“What?”

The fire seemed to go still.

Gabe blinked. “No—I mean—just like, you’re so good at, you know. The not-girly stuff. Like, killing people—uh—”

You raised a brow, voice flat. “So I’m in the military and that means I’m not allowed to be girly?”

Gabe opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “No! That’s not—I didn’t mean—like, you can, obviously—”

The others had lost it by now. Bucky had his head buried in his arm, shaking with silent laughter. Morita was wheezing. Dum Dum was crying.

You nodded slowly, arms crossed. “Uh huh. That all you got?”

Gabe looked around like someone might save him. No one did.

“I just meant… you seem so… sharp! And you don’t… I mean you never… like, dresses—not that I wouldn’t like if you wore one—not that you need to—”

“Dig up, Gabe,” Bucky offered helpfully.

You shook your head and pointed your canteen at Gabe like a knife. “One more word and I swear I will make you run laps in full gear tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Gabe said, finally surrendering to his embarrassment. “Thank you for your service.”

Once the laughter died down, Dum Dum leaned forward with a mischievous grin.

“Alright, Fox. Now sing us something.”

You stared at him.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just a few notes—”

“You’d have to drug me.”

“Well,” Bucky said, elbowing you gently, “I do still have some morphine left in my pack—”

You shoved his arm away with a scoff, but couldn’t help the flicker of a smile.

And as the boys erupted into more teasing, and Gabe tried to crawl under a tarp in embarrassment, you leaned back against the crate, warmed more by the people around you than the fire. You didn’t sing, not that night. But Bucky stayed next to you, quietly.

And he didn’t laugh when you said you used to want to sing.

He just looked at you like he really wanted to hear it.

────────────────────────

Moments After Intercepting Zola's Train— Alpine Forest Edge, 1945

The wind had sharp teeth.

It howled between the trees like it was mourning too. Snow swept across the ground in restless swirls, half-covering the train tracks already. Everything was white and still and wrong.

The wreckage lay behind you, steel twisted into the mountainside, black smoke curling up into the gray sky. Arnim Zola had been secured. Hydra’s tech recovered. It was supposed to be a win.

But Bucky had fallen.

The team stood in the brittle silence of it. Steve was turned half away, jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle twitch in his cheek. Morita and Dum Dum said nothing, eyes fixed on the ground. Gabe was pacing, too angry to stop moving, like stillness would make it real.

You stood near the edge of the embankment, where it dropped into a forest of pine and snow. Your lungs burned with cold, but you kept staring down, searching the white for anything — a shape, a shadow, hope.

Finally, you squared your shoulders.

“Cap.”

Steve didn’t answer at first. You stepped closer, louder now.

“Steve.”

His eyes flicked to you, red-rimmed and hollow. “What?”

“I want permission to go after him.”

Silence.

Then a bitter breath of disbelief. “Fox…”

“You know I’m the best tracker we’ve got,” you said, tone steady, firm. “I know how to read the land. If anyone can follow his path through that fall, it’s me.”

“There’s no way he—” Steve cut himself off. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “No one survives a drop like that. And it’s too dangerous. You can’t go alone.”

“I have to go alone,” you insisted. “A squad would slow me down. I’ll move faster on my own, quieter. Look—”

You crouched down in the snow and started sketching with your glove. “That ridge curves around. It’s a drop, yes, but if he hit snow, or an outcrop, or even slid—”

“Even if by some miracle he lived,” Steve said quietly, “he wouldn’t last long. Not in that cold. Not with the injuries he’d have.”

You stood again, breath quickening with urgency. “If he’s alive, he’s got a chance—but not if I waste time arguing.”

“Fox—”

“If I don’t, he dies. Hypothermia will set in fast — minutes, if he’s bleeding. I might not have long, but I might still have enough time. You give me two days. Just two. If he’s alive, I’ll bring him in. If he’s not…” your voice faltered, just for a second, “then I’ll bring his body home.”

No one spoke. The wind did.

You kept your eyes locked on Steve. Pleading without begging. Heart breaking but hands steady.

“I’ve gone on solo missions before. You know I can handle it. The Colonel trained me for it.”

His jaw flexed again. You could see the battle behind his eyes. Orders versus loyalty. Logic versus love.

And then his shoulders dropped.

“Two days,” he said hoarsely.

Relief hit you like a wave. You gave a quick nod, already reaching for your gear.

But Steve stepped closer, and his voice lowered — gentler, just for you.

“Keep safe out there… alright?” he said softly. “Seriously. And if you need backup, you radio. Doesn’t matter what time. Doesn’t matter what. I’ll come running.”

You paused, swallowing hard. The cold stung your eyes, but you didn’t blink.

“Understood, Captain.”

Steve looked at you for a long moment. Then, softer still — your name. Not your call sign.

“Come back.”

You stood at attention, gave a crisp salute.

“I will.”

Then you turned, and vanished into the snow.

────────────────────────

The snow had swallowed your tracks hours ago.

You ran anyway — boots crushing down through the icy crust of the forest floor, slipping sometimes, catching yourself hard against trees. Your lungs burned with each breath, white puffs turning sharp in the frozen air. You followed the slope of the mountain where the train had disappeared from sight — zig-zagging across ridges, checking every ravine, every indentation in the powder.

It was somewhere along a narrow ledge above a frozen stream that you saw it — the faint suggestion of disturbed snow, barely visible unless you were looking for it. A jagged slide mark. Something heavy had fallen.

Your heart slammed in your chest as you scrambled down the embankment, knees hitting ice, hands out to brace yourself. You moved quick, scanning, scanning—

Then you saw red.

You froze.

Blood in the snow — bright, brilliant, and far too much of it.

It streaked in uneven drags from the edge of a rock face down into the brush, and then—

Your breath caught.

Bucky.

He lay sprawled half on his side, unmoving. Snow clung to his lashes, his uniform soaked through. His left arm — what was left of it — hung at an unnatural angle, nearly torn from the shoulder. His mouth was parted like he’d tried to call out and never finished the sound. Blood had soaked the snow beneath him dark and wide.

You were moving before your brain caught up.

“Sarge?” you gasped, skidding to your knees in the snow beside him. “Sarge— Bucky—Bucky, come on—”

Your gloved fingers hovered over him for a split second, terrified to touch, terrified he’d be cold—

But his chest moved.

Faint. Shallow.

You pressed two fingers to the side of his neck, heart pounding as you felt it—

thud.

...thud.

Faint, but there.

Your voice broke with urgency. “Hang on, James. I’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re not gone—”

You dropped your pack, already pulling out your emergency wrap, trying to stem the bleeding. His skin was ice. His lips had gone pale blue. You leaned over him, shielding him from the wind, fumbling for your radio, trying to think past the adrenaline crashing like waves—

Crunch.

Snow behind you shifted.

You didn’t hesitate — one leg snapped out behind you hard, boot slamming into the weight approaching fast from your blind spot. You felt it connect — a grunt, a body collapsing in the snow.

You twisted, low and fast, grabbing your knife from your belt, coming up just in time to block the arm of a Hydra soldier lunging in. Steel clanged against steel. You shoved back with everything you had, pushing the fight away from Bucky’s broken form.

You ducked a strike, twisted the knife out of his hand, and drove your elbow into his face—

But then another set of boots crunched through the trees.

A second soldier tackled you from the side.

You hit the ground hard — snow exploding under you, your knife skidding out of reach. You twisted, managed to throw him off just long enough to scramble back toward Bucky—

Only for a third shadow to emerge from the trees. Then a fourth.

You swung out with your arm, striking one across the temple, disarming another. You were fast��a blur of movement, rage, and desperation—but even you had limits.

A rifle butt slammed into your ribs. You doubled over. Hands grabbed at you. You kicked out, catching one in the knee—

But something cracked against the side of your head.

A sharp, searing light burst across your vision— And then nothing.

Darkness took you.

────────────────────────

Hydra Facility — Undisclosed Location

Consciousness came back like drowning in slow motion.

First, the cold. It bit deep into your skin, sharp and metallic. Then, the ache — deep in your limbs, like your bones were filled with lead. And then the restraints.

Metal bands across your wrists and ankles. Another across your chest. Your head lolled to the side, sluggish from whatever they’d pumped into you — sedatives, maybe. Or worse. You blinked against the blinding fluorescence above, and the white ceiling bled into sterile silver walls.

Then you heard it.

A scream.

Your pulse lurched.

It wasn’t just pain. It was agony. The kind of sound that tore through a person’s throat, primal and ragged. The kind of scream that told you someone was being unmade.

Your neck turned slowly — every muscle protesting — and you saw him.

Bucky.

His body was arched against the restraints on a second slab just feet away from yours, eyes wide, back bowed, mouth open in a raw, broken scream.

There were wires threaded into his temples. Metal rods at his temples, at the base of his skull. Tubes and cables running into his chest. You couldn’t see what they were pumping into him — only that whatever it was, it was wrong.

“Bucky!” your voice cracked out of your throat, hoarse and half-broken. “James—!”

No response. He didn’t hear you. Or he couldn’t. His eyes didn’t see anything.

“Stop it!” you screamed at them instead. Your voice echoed against cold steel walls. “STOP—he’s not a test subject, you bastards, HE’S A PERSON—”

You thrashed, muscles seizing against the restraints, lungs burning, tears springing from your eyes without your permission.

Across the room, a man in a white coat calmly noted something on a clipboard.

A technician adjusted a dial.

Bucky screamed again — hoarse now. And then it broke off into choking. You watched his body convulse against the slab, chest heaving. His face twisted in confusion, pain, terror—like he didn’t know who he was anymore.

You didn’t care what they were doing to you. You didn’t care if your arms were bound or if the sedatives were still in your bloodstream.

You fought.

You fought like hell.

“Let him go!” you shouted, voice nearly gone now. “Let him go, you motherfuckers!”

Someone finally turned toward you — a man with cold eyes behind round spectacles. Calm. Curious.

Zola.

He stepped closer, glancing at your vitals on a nearby monitor. “Interesting,” he murmured in a thick accent, adjusting his gloves. “She is already… aware. So soon.”

“I will kill you,” you spat. “I swear to God—”

“Oh,” Zola said gently, “I think you will be quite useful to each other.”

And then the world tilted again.

Another needle. Another rush of cold in your veins. And the lights above you fractured into fragments.

The last thing you heard before the blackness swallowed you whole… was Bucky sobbing like a child.

────────────────────────

Time had stopped meaning anything.

It could’ve been days. Weeks. Months. You didn’t know.

All you knew was the burn.

Your veins felt like they were filled with acid — crawling fire under your skin, surging in waves that left your limbs trembling, your fingers twitching, your pulse racing like it was trying to outrun death itself. You’d stopped asking what they were putting in you. Every time they came near, you tensed out of instinct. But the sedation would hit before you could do anything.

They never said what it was.

You didn’t know it was the serum.

You only knew that afterward, your body would spasm uncontrollably. Your mind would short-circuit. You’d hear voices that weren’t there. Remember things that hadn’t happened. Feel your strength surge… and then vanish.

But worse than the pain… was him.

Bucky hadn’t spoken in days.

Maybe longer.

He lay still on the other slab, eyes open but unseeing, lips dry and cracked. His breathing was shallow. His face had gone hollow, sunken in the cheeks and under the eyes — like something was draining him from the inside out. They didn’t sedate him anymore. They didn’t need to. Whatever they'd done had left him... vacant.

His new arm — if you could even call it that — sat like a slab of cold iron where his left one had been. Crude stitches and blackened bruises ringed the place it had been fused to bone and muscle. You could see the puckered scars, raw and inflamed, where metal met skin. It looked like it hurt just to exist.

You doubted he could even lift it.

And yet… they’d called it a success.

Whatever that meant.

Now, finally — mercifully — the room had gone still. No needles. No voices over the intercom. No restraints being tightened. Just… stillness.

A few minutes. Maybe hours. You couldn’t tell anymore.

Your throat was dry. Your body, sore and exhausted. But you shifted — weakly — on the slab beside him, head tilting just enough to face him. The cold of the metal table seeped into your bones, but you ignored it.

“Bucky…” you whispered, voice rasping out like broken glass. “Sarge… can you hear me?”

He didn’t move. His eyes stared at the ceiling, unfocused.

You didn’t care.

You turned more toward him, trembling slightly as your fingers strained to reach across the few inches of space. You couldn’t touch him — the restraints didn’t let you — but you reached anyway, as if the effort alone could bridge the gap.

“I’m gonna get us out of here,” you murmured, voice cracking. “I swear. You’re not gonna die in here. I won’t let them take you like this.”

Silence.

You kept talking. You had to.

“You remember the fire escape outside our barracks? That stupid thing that barely held two people? You used to sneak up there and fall asleep. Said it was the only place quiet enough to think.”

Your throat tightened.

“You promised me, one day, you’d go back to Brooklyn. Fix that bike of yours. Open a little garage. Said I could come help out if I wanted to. You remember that?”

No response.

You felt your heart break, slow and jagged, like a fault line cracking open.

“Please, Bucky… just—just look at me. Just one sign. I need to know you’re still in there. I need you.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper. “You saved me. You always did. So let me do it now. Let me get us out. Just hang on. Please.”

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t have the water left in your body to spare. Just dry eyes, raw throat, and a heart held together by frayed sinew and willpower.

Your arm shook from the strain of keeping it extended.

And still, you kept reaching.

Even when he didn’t move.

Even when the silence stretched so long it pressed on your ribs like weight.

Even when your vision started to dim again from the drugs.

“I’m here, Sarge,” you breathed, barely audible now. “You’re not alone.”

The only sound was the soft hiss of the air vents above. The low electric hum from the lights. And the faint, hollow echo of two hearts still beating.

One stronger than the other.

But still alive.

────────────────────────

Hydra Conditioning Chambers – Months Later

You’d lost track of how many times they brought you in.

They stopped asking questions. Stopped pretending it was about compliance. This wasn’t interrogation anymore. It was reshaping.

It started with pain. Always pain. Electric currents through your skull, your spine, the base of your neck. Your nerves became war zones. Your teeth cracked from clenching. You screamed until your throat was raw, until the air itself tasted like metal and blood.

They were trying to make you forget. Rewire your instincts. Strip you of anything you and replace it with something Hydra. Something obedient.

Something empty.

It worked on Bucky.

At first, he resisted. He screamed. Fought. Raged.

But you saw the moment it broke him. You heard it — the silence that followed a round of electroshock so violent it left him convulsing, slack-jawed, frothing at the mouth. His eyes had gone glassy. His lips trembled, whispering things in Russian that made no sense to him — things they had fed into his brain on repeat. Words he didn’t understand but couldn’t stop.

“Зимний Солдат.”

Winter Soldier.

You heard the way they said it. Like it was sacred. Like it was done.

And you—

You were next.

But you wouldn’t break.

Not like him.

You bit down so hard during one session your molar cracked. They doubled the voltage. You passed out and woke up vomiting, body convulsing on the floor, your restraints slick with blood from split wrists. You couldn’t tell if the screaming in your head was yours or theirs.

Still, they failed.

Still, they couldn’t crack you.

You were fire in frostbite. And it drove them mad.

“Too resilient,” one of the German doctors muttered in frustration as he scribbled notes on a clipboard, his glasses slipping down his nose.

“Willful,” Zola corrected. “It’s in her nature. A Colonel's daughter. Born to take orders, yet somehow defies.”

“And yet she will yield,” said the Russian operative beside them, arms folded, watching you with reptilian calm. “We will make her. The лисица will hunt for us in time.”

Vixen, they called you.

The name they gave your file: sleek, lethal, deceptive. Born to track. Built to seduce and eliminate. A predator with a soft face.

You were their ghost soldier. Their shadow. Their whisper in the dark.

But only if they broke you first.

That session, they left you strapped to the chair, soaked in your own sweat and blood, nerves twitching like wires cut loose. Alone. Left to steep in the pain. Like Bucky had been.

You lifted your head an inch. Just enough to glance across the room.

He was there.

Sitting still.

Not restrained. Just… motionless. Eyes forward. Breathing shallow.

He didn’t even look at you anymore.

They had him.

And you were next.

Your throat burned. Your eyes felt too dry to cry. You weren’t sure your vocal cords worked. But still, out of nowhere — out of a deep, primitive place inside you that remembered being human — you sang.

Softly. Shakily. Croaky and cracked.

“I’ll be seeing you… in all the old familiar places…”

“…that this heart of mine embraces… all day through.”

It wasn’t a melody anymore. Just broken notes wrapped around splinters of memory.

Home. Whiskey laughs. Bucky smiling sideways when you called him “Sarge.” Steve saluting you for the first time. Dum Dum tipping his hat. Warm fires. Rations shared.

“In that small café… the park across the way…”

Your voice gave out halfway through.

But you kept whispering the words. Just for you. Just to remember.

Because even if they hollowed you out — rewired you, broke you — they couldn’t take that. Not all the way. Not yet.

You were still Fox. Somewhere under the blood and static and numbness.

You had to be.

Because if you weren’t… who would save him?

Years Later

They became Hydra’s ghosts. Whispers in the dark. Proof that monsters weren’t born — they were made.

When the war ended, and the world began to stitch itself back together, Hydra burrowed deeper. Quieter. Smarter. And in the vaults of ice and concrete beneath their hidden facilities, they began sculpting legends.

One of steel.

One of silk.

He was not subtle.

Where silence was needed, he brought screams.

Where compromise existed, he crushed it.

The Winter Soldier was Hydra’s enforcer, the blade they drove into the heart of history. He appeared across decades like a fracture — impossible to trace, impossible to stop. A phantom draped in shadow, eyes like glacier glass, grip like a bear trap.

He assassinated presidents. Ministers. Scientists. He sabotaged governments with the pull of a trigger. One shot — a bullet through a man’s skull, or through the spine of a nation’s future.

His missions were clean. Untraceable.

No witnesses. No evidence.

Only death.

Hydra rewired him with electroshock and Russian syllables. They hollowed out James Buchanan Barnes and replaced him with a weapon that did not question orders, did not feel guilt, did not hesitate. A ghost of a man with a new metal arm and no memory of mercy.

Cryogenic stasis kept him sharp, young, lethal. He lived in decades like they were days. A century’s worth of kill orders etched into his hands.

He never left survivors.

Unless Hydra told him to.

If the Soldier was Hydra’s hammer, the Vixen was their scalpel.

She bled behind enemy lines in silence, slipping through borders and barricades like a breath. She did not wear fear on her face. She did not leave blood in her wake — only secrets gutted open and missions left in ruin.

They called her лисица, the vixen, because she was cunning. Patient. Uncatchable. A whisper with teeth.

But it wasn’t always about killing.

She was Hydra’s infiltrator, a master of mimicry and seduction, of dismantling men without lifting a weapon. Where the Soldier brought force, she brought erosion — crumbling fortresses from within.

And to Hydra, she was a triumph of psychological warfare — what the Red Room would later attempt to replicate in their Widows. But she came first. She was the original phantom siren.

They used her face. Her softness. Her voice — when she remembered to use it — like a lullaby over a knife's edge. Where the Soldier was brute force, the Vixen was infiltration. Persuasion. Seduction when required, annihilation when ordered.

Her body was honed to perfection. Her mind, conditioned for silence and obedience — and yet, it never bent as cleanly as they wanted.

Not completely.

At first, it was small things.

Moments of hesitation. A flicker of something behind her eyes. The way her hands trembled after some kills — not with fear, but memory. Recognition.

She began humming to herself between assignments. Little songs from another life. She’d sit still in her stasis chamber before freezing, humming fragments of a tune they never taught her.

“We'll meet again, don't know how, don't know when…”

There were reports she disobeyed a kill order once. Let a target live because he had no evil in his eyes. They punished her for it. Re-conditioned her. Electroshock, isolation, more injections — but the slip had happened, and Hydra never trusted her fully again.

They realized she wasn’t like him.

The Soldier could be overwritten.

The Vixen resisted.

Not in screams or defiance. But in subtle, terrifying cracks.

Hydra scientists began to fear her — not for her violence, but her unpredictability. Her lingering humanity. That sliver of soul they couldn’t seem to carve out.

So they adjusted her protocol.

Where the Winter Soldier was deployed like a machine, again and again, the Vixen was locked away.

Preserved in cryo between missions. Thawed only when absolutely necessary. Only when no one else could do the job.

Only when they were desperate enough to risk the memories bleeding through.

They didn’t trust the leash they’d put on her. They only trusted the chain they wrapped around her throat.

And the serum? The serum wasn’t meant for kindness. It didn’t amplify goodness or nobility.

It magnified potential.

And under Hydra’s hands, that meant war.

The Winter Soldier's muscles knit themselves tighter. Bone density quadrupled. His reflexes reached inhuman speeds. Pain dulled. Healing accelerated. A shot to the chest became a stumble. A shattered femur became a limp for a few hours.

He didn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop.

The serum made sure of that.

And when paired with the metal arm — the marvel of Soviet-German engineering — the Winter Soldier became a force no one could match. Stronger than ten men. Faster than bullets. Unbreakable.

A walking extinction event.

He wasn’t meant to survive.

He was meant to erase.

The Vixen, however… she changed differently.

Hydra never expected the serum to work the same way. She was smaller. Lighter. Delicate in the ways he was brutal. But she was no less a weapon — just… sharper. More precise.

The serum didn’t bulk her up. It refined her.

Her muscles compacted into long, lean coils of strength. She moved like liquid shadow. Fast enough to vanish between blinks. Quiet enough that her footsteps could barely be heard on glass.

But it was her senses that changed the most.

Hydra didn’t know what to make of it at first — the way she would flinch at footsteps down the hall before they ever echoed. She could hear things miles away — the tick of rifle safety on a distant rooftop, the soft breath of a man in a hidden hallway. She could hear heartbeats. Lies. The subtle shift in someone's pulse when they spoke told her more than any interrogation.

They tested her. Over and over.

She could feel sweat in the air.

Taste adrenaline on a man’s breath.

Smelled metal, blood, gunpowder — emotions. Fear had a scent. Anger tasted like copper.

Her eyes could track the fall of a snowflake mid-battle. Her balance was inhuman. Her touch, so precise she could disarm a man without waking him.

Hydra called it a miracle. Zola called it evolution.

She was a new breed of operative — not just fast and strong, but impossibly aware. And that terrified them.

Because if she chose to disobey, to turn on them…

Even the Winter Soldier could not stop her.

They never told her she could overpower him.

They couldn’t risk it.

So instead, they bound her.

Psychologically. Physically. Systematically.

They paired her to the Soldier — not as an equal. As a subordinate. A tool under his control.

Her handler.

Her shadow.

Her leash.

When she failed a mission, when she hesitated, when she lingered too long near a song or a memory — he was the one they sent.

No guards. No scientists.

Just the Winter Soldier.

He’d enter the chamber where she sat — barefoot, arms folded over her knees, breath slow. She never ran. She never fought. Not unless she wanted it to be worse.

And he would carry out the punishment.

His face never changed.

His hands never trembled.

His eyes never closed.

Sometimes it was his fists.

Sometimes it was the silence between them — worse than any bruise.

They trained her to submit to him on instinct. A single word in Russian, a glance, a subtle shift of his body — she would obey.

But it wasn’t fear.

It was conditioning.

They had threaded her loyalty into his silhouette. Turned the man who once bled beside her into a god she knelt for.

The only one who could touch her.

The only one she responded to.

────────────────────────

Hydra’s underground compound groaned with the mechanical cold of concrete and fluorescent hum. Sterile, sharp. The air reeked of antiseptic and gun oil — a scent soaked into every slab of metal, every breath pulled through narrow lungs.

They’d returned just an hour ago from an operation in Prague.

The Soldier had gone first, dragged down the corridor by two guards, silent and compliant. They always processed him first — quick, efficient. He was easy. Slumped shoulders. Dull gaze. Programmed silence. The memory wipe rarely took more than ten minutes anymore.

But she had lingered.

Stripped of her weapons. Her boots left sticky with blood. Hands twitching at her sides like she didn’t trust they were done. Her pupils hadn’t shrunk. Her breathing hadn’t calmed. She stared at the floor like it was moving beneath her.

And when they reached for her—

When gloved hands touched her arm—

She snapped.

No scream. No warning.

The first man’s throat tore open before the others knew her fingers had moved. His blood sprayed up her face — red mist over pale skin — and she didn’t stop to see him fall. She pivoted. Fast. Precise.

A whirlwind of fists and sharp bone and snarled breath. The second scientist’s head slammed into the wall with a crack, spine folded in an unnatural twist as he slumped.

Then the alarms began.

Boots thudded down the hall. Gunfire stuttered from two directions — panicked, wild — and only some of it came from her. The rest came from soldiers firing before they aimed, hands shaking, watching Hydra’s most elegant weapon unspool into a beast.

It was like she could hear the triggers before they clicked.

Bang. Duck. Slide. Elbow to temple. Gun lifted. Two shots — center mass. Next.

She didn’t pause.

Not until there was no one left moving in the corridor but her.

Fifteen seconds of silence.

The floor gleamed with blood.

She stood in the middle of it all, chest heaving, smeared head to toe in scarlet. Her jaw twitched. Her eyes — still dilated — flicked up, wide, unblinking. Animal stillness. No longer in a mission. No longer in control.

Something had broken. Fully. Utterly.

In the surveillance room, a handler shouted.

“Отправьте солдата. Положите Виксен. Сделайте это сейчас—”

(Send in the Soldier to put the Vixen down. Do it NOW—)

Metal boots struck the floor.

He came with no hesitation.

The Soldier entered the corridor through the main blast doors, smoke curling from the edges of spent gun barrels. His face was blank. Cold. His metal arm hissed as it flexed, fingers twitching from a reset.

He stopped when he saw her.

Standing there like a revenant. Covered in blood, chin lifted, hair matted and damp. A raw tremble in her shoulders. Eyes glowing with something ancient, something nameless.

She didn't kneel. She didn't bow.

She just watched him.

The room seemed to shrink. Lights buzzed above them like flies. The blood beneath their boots had not yet dried.

His weight shifted. Right foot forward. Arm lowering slightly — coiled, ready.

Their eyes locked.

Like wolves before the first bite. No orders. No speech. No false names. Just… waiting. A battle written in stare alone.

Then he moved.

And so did she.

He lunged — fast, brutal. A fist like steel screaming toward her temple.

She ducked, slid beneath it, spun her heel into his ribs. He grunted, staggered — not from pain, but from surprise. She was faster. Not more powerful — not quite — but she was sharper. Tighter.

They wove through each other like old ghosts dancing.

His hand gripped her wrist mid-blow, twisted. She hissed, kicked at his shin. He blocked, slammed her into the wall. Her breath shot out. His arm pressed at her throat — but she rolled, broke free, slammed her forehead into his chin.

Crack.

He blinked, dazed for half a second.

She struck again.

Hard. Violent. Chest to chest, elbow to his jaw, knee toward his side — he blocked, shoved her back. They breathed in unison, rapid and harsh. His hair clung to his forehead. Her lip bled from the inside out.

Still, no words.

Just eye contact — burning. Challenging. Grieving.

The stalemate lasted three heartbeats.

Then the blast doors behind him hissed open again — dozens of Hydra agents storming the corridor with tranquilizers, guns, electric rods. The spell broke.

He made the decision.

He lunged — again — but this time not to strike.

Her back hit the floor hard, her limbs twisted beneath her, wrists already bruising. He was on top of her, pinning her down with the weight of a machine, his metal hand locked around her throat, thumb pressed against the pulse of her artery.

Her chest heaved, sharp and slow, like breath was foreign now. Like she didn’t care if she took it.

He should’ve done it already.

Should’ve squeezed harder. Should’ve watched her eyes roll back and her body fall limp like the countless others he’d ended. His expression was carved from granite — unreadable. His face spattered with blood that wasn’t his. But inside, something shook.

His fingers trembled.

It was the first warning.

She didn’t resist anymore. No kicks. No sharp elbows or desperate knees. No flash of canines, no snap of a snarl.

Just eyes.

Looking straight into his.

Open. Unblinking. Empty.

As if she wanted this.

As if the idea of dying — under his hands — was better than returning to the dark. To the chair. To the ice. To the silence.

That was the second warning.

A part of him flinched. Something far beneath the code, beneath the frostbite of his brain, beneath the echo of the Winter Soldier. Something warm. Ancient. Like a bone-deep memory of summer.

He tightened his grip.

He really did.

Muscles flexed. Metal joints locked. His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached.

Her skin was warm under his hand. Her pulse soft — waiting.

And she just kept staring.

Her pupils enormous. Dark. Not afraid. Not submissive. Just… ready.

A flicker of her lashes. A twitch in her lip.

And that was when he realized — she didn’t want to fight him anymore.

She didn’t believe he could choose not to kill her.

And she might’ve been right.

Because how many times had his handlers commanded him to hurt her? Punish her? And he had.

With precision. With obedience. With terrifying force.

They’d made him the hand that carved pain into her again and again. Bones broken. Breath taken. Blood spilled — by him.

And yet… she always came back.

Returned to her feet. Returned to him.

The punishments never took her away permanently.

She was still his. Not in name, not in language. But in the way gravity belongs to the planet. She was the only thing he’d ever hurt that didn’t vanish.

And now — he was supposed to end her.

To kill her.

And the Soldier — the one they’d broken, rebuilt, erased a thousand times — felt something crack.

His chest stuttered.

His other hand gripped her forearm like he was trying to tether her to the ground, to him, to something real. His breath began to shake — fast, shallow. His vision swam. He could see nothing but her eyes now. No blood. No ceiling. No walls.

Only her.

Her eyes were the only thing in the world he never forgot.

His fingers began to slip.

His breath rasped in his throat, caught between fury and anguish, and something deeper — something scarier.

His whole body trembled now. His forearm bulged with the strain of holding back. And then — like something finally snapped — he let out a guttural, choked yell, half agony, half animal.

He let go.

His hand released her throat.

He struck the concrete beside her head — hard — the ground splintering with the force, a web of cracks blooming under his fist. The shockwave trembled through her ribs. Dust curled into the air. His breathing was ragged, hoarse, chest rising and falling like a man who’d just outrun death and failed.

He didn’t look away from her.

He leaned down — slow, deliberate — and pressed his forehead to hers.

Not soft. Not tender. But grounded. Desperate.

Like he was anchoring himself to the only thing that still existed in his mind.

His forehead was burning.

Hers was cold.

They stayed like that — a tableau of blood and breath and failure. She didn’t move. He didn’t flinch.

Their foreheads touching.

Their eyes still locked.

Breathing each other in like that was the only way they remembered what it felt like to be human.

And for the first time in all the years Hydra made them into things — weapons, monsters, ghosts — the Soldier’s silence didn’t mean compliance.

It meant defiance.

He would not kill her.

Not her.

Never her.

Even if he didn’t know her name.

Even if he didn’t know his own.

He knew this.

Her eyes.

Her breath.

And her blood beneath his hands.

The blood hadn’t even dried when the reinforced doors slammed shut.

Alarms were finally silenced — but the aftermath echoed louder. Metallic clangs as bodies were dragged. Snapped bones. Severed limbs. The dead Hydra scientists were scattered across the floor like discarded parts. The walls dripped with their arrogance.

She lay on her back, still breathing.

Eyes wide, unblinking, staring at the splintered floor where his fist had broken through. One hand loosely curled at her ribs. The other slick with blood — hers, theirs, it didn’t matter.

He hadn’t killed her.

And that, to the watching Hydra handlers, was the most terrifying detail of all.

They didn’t ask questions.

They just knew she had broken. Completely.

She had killed without permission. Reacted without instruction. Moved through a room of trained guards and armed scientists like they were made of glass.

No trigger words had stopped her.

No handler had calmed her.

Not even him.

Only exhaustion had slowed her.

Only his mercy had spared her.

And that — that was unforgivable.

When they came to sedate her, he was already there. Standing over her like a specter, silent and immovable. The guards hesitated. The doctors murmured. Not a single one would meet his eyes.

His hands remained at his sides, but his presence was a warning.

Don’t hurt her. Don’t kill her.

They could see it in the way his jaw locked, in the way his body coiled like a tripwire. His programming demanded obedience — but something deeper, older, more human, was watching them with predatory stillness.

They kept her sedated through every moment. Through the wipe that never took properly. Through the muttered arguments in clipped Russian and panicked German about what to do with her. Through the decision that the risk was no longer worth the reward.

She wasn’t the Winter Soldier.

She couldn’t be tamed by words and pain.

She was something else. Something worse.

And he watched it all.

Not understanding why his chest hurt.

Not understanding why he remembered her face when everything else turned to static.

When they lowered her into the cryogenic pod, he followed. Shadowed them down the sterile hall without orders. The guards gave him distance — he didn’t look at them, didn’t need to. His eyes were fixed only on her.

She didn’t stir.

The inside of the chamber was lined with reinforced polymer. Her restraints were reinforced. But her expression was blank. Breathing slow. Completely still.

He stood just beyond the edge of the fog as the lid began to lower.

No commands came. He didn’t need any.

He simply stared.

As if some part of him knew that she was the only thing that ever made him hesitate.

The only thing that ever looked back at him — even when he hurt her — and saw him.

And now they were taking her away from him again.

Not killing her. But erasing her again.

He didn’t move until the hiss of the cryo chamber sealed shut. Didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just stood there as the glass frosted over, her face vanishing into the white.

That was the last time Hydra made use of the Vixen.

1989.

Until they could find a better way to control her —

A better cage.

A better chain.

They put her back to sleep.

And that’s where she stayed — frozen, ghostlike, remembered only by the monster who’d once been ordered to destroy her.

2024

Rain lashed the cracked windows of the safehouse, a forgotten building on the edge of eastern Europe that smelled like rust and damp wood. The small desk lamp on the table buzzed faintly, casting long shadows over the spread of maps, photos, and red string that looked like a conspiracy board torn straight from a nightmare.

In the center of it all stood Bucky Barnes, his metal fingers clenched tight around the edge of the table, knuckles pale against steel.

Sam Wilson stood a few feet behind him, arms crossed, surveying the chaos.

“You really think it’s her?” he asked, voice low and measured.

Bucky didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on a blurred photo — a grainy, static-frozen capture from a destroyed security feed. A woman with a mask over her mouth and nose making her face obscured, walking away from a warehouse swallowed in fire. But her posture, the deliberate stillness of her movements — he knew it.

“I know it is,” he said finally, like a fact carved from stone.

Sam let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Buck, we’ve been chasing shadows for six weeks. People say this is a ghost story. Urban legend. Vengeance incarnate. You sure it’s not just... projection?”

“She’s alive,” Bucky said, without even looking up.

The words fell like weight onto the room, pulling the silence taut. Sam studied his friend’s profile — the faint lines of fatigue around his eyes, the way his mouth twitched with restraint, with desperation.

“You say that like you’ve seen her,” Sam said gently. “But that pod in Belarus was dead. Power was out for years. She came out confused, probably didn’t even know what year it was. You think she’s operating on logic?”

“No,” Bucky murmured. “She’s not.”

He thumbed through a series of photos on the table — each one more brutal than the last. A scientist dissected in Munich. A financier found hanging upside down in Prague. Every man in the stack had once had ties to Hydra. However minor, however indirect. And each death had been executed with surgical precision. Silent. Clean. Gone.

Sam stepped forward, pointing at a red pin on the map. “Bucharest hit. Three Hydra affiliates. No alarms, no signs of forced entry. Security feed glitched for thirty seconds.”

“She’s learning,” Bucky whispered. There was no pride in it — only awe. And dread.

“She’s not just surviving,” Sam said, his voice edged with something colder. “She’s hunting.”

Bucky didn’t flinch. He nodded slowly, eyes flicking across the network of red thread. The ghosts of his past. And hers.

Sam hesitated before asking, “What if she’s not just targeting Hydra? What if she’s coming for you too?”

That stopped Bucky cold.

“She has every reason to,” he said after a long moment, the words thick with regret. “I hurt her.”

Sam was quiet. He didn’t need to ask what he meant. The history between them — the conditioning, the missions, the punishments — Bucky had carried them out without mercy. Not because he wanted to, but because they’d made him.

Sam hesitated before asking, “Then why keep looking for her?” His voice was soft, careful.

But something in Bucky snapped at that — not loud or explosive, just sharp. A quiet fracture under pressure.

“Because I have to,” Bucky said, voice low but rough, his hands bracing hard against the table. “Because she’s been frozen for thirty goddamn years, Sam.”

Sam blinked, standing a little straighter.

“I’ve been out for five. Five years free, and that’s not even counting the Blip. Or all the time Hydra dragged me out and used me,” Bucky went on, the words starting to slip faster, heavier. “And during all of that, I was hurting her. Again and again.”

His jaw clenched as he stared down at the mess of papers, eyes tracing her blurry silhouette as if it were some ancient ghost trying to speak back.

“She was always stronger than me,” he said, quieter now, almost like it hurt to admit it. “Mentally. She fought them. She never broke easy.”

He looked at Sam then, eyes rimmed in something not quite anger but something old and burning — a weight that lived in his bones.

“I owe her this,” he said. “I owe her the truth. And if she wants to kill me for it, I’ll let her. But I’m not going to stop until I find her. Even if she wants me to let her go, I will.”

But the truth was carved into his face. He couldn’t. He never would again.

────────────────────────

You sat on the edge of the couch like you didn’t know how to exist in a space this quiet.

Your eyes traced the seams between the floorboards, your hands folded neatly in your lap, unmoving. You hadn’t spoken more than a sentence since Bucky brought you there.

Not when he offered you a glass of water, not when he showed you where the bathroom was, not even when he—hesitantly—told you that you could have his room, while he slept on the couch.

You just nodded.

One, clean nod. Always polite. Always precise.

But not the way you used to be. Not the way he remembered.

In the 40s, you had fire in your voice. You had sharp comebacks, a cheeky grin that curled higher when you got under his skin. You could outrun, outshoot, outthink most of the Howlies, and still managed to hum a tune while cleaning your rifle.

Now, you barely ate. You hadn’t said more than a clipped “fine” or “okay.” You hadn’t looked him in the eye since you stepped inside.

Bucky still didn’t even know how he’d convinced you to come with him as he watched you from the kitchen, leaning his forearms on the counter, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him tethered. His metal hand creaked quietly against the granite.

“You want me to put something on?” he asked, his voice low, worn. “TV, music… white noise?”

You turned your head slightly, the barest flicker. Your lips parted, like you might speak, then closed again. You shook your head, slowly.

He sighed. Not in frustration. Just... helplessness.

“You used to yell at me for humming off-key,” he said gently, like maybe a memory would draw you closer to the surface. “Said I could scare off birds from miles away.”

No answer.

Just your stillness. Just your silence.

And that ache behind his ribs grew sharper.

He stared at you, at your hunched shoulders and distant eyes, and for the first time, truly wondered if this was how Steve had felt.

Always reaching. Always hoping. Trying to pull someone he cared about out of the fog. Trying to bring Bucky back from the brink, even when Bucky had forgotten who he was. Steve had never stopped. Not when everyone else had written him off as a weapon. Not even when he’d fought against him on a damn helicarrier.

Now here Bucky was—on the other side. And he finally understood just how exhausting, how heartbreaking it had been. Watching someone you knew still existed beneath the wreckage, and not knowing if you’d ever reach them again.

He wanted to say something else, but then your voice cracked the quiet—raw, broken, hesitant.

“I remember… my father’s voice. Not his face. Just… how he said my name.”

Bucky went still.

You didn’t look at him when you said it. Your head tilted slightly toward the window, where the last of the day’s light bled across your cheekbone like gold dust.

“I used to hum while I tracked,” you said. “To stay human.”

He didn’t speak. Didn’t dare move. He just listened.

“I think I forgot how to feel warm,” you murmured. “Even when I’m not in the ice anymore.”

Your fingers twitched once, like your body remembered the motion of a weapon, or maybe a tremor from a distant past. The moment was fragile, stretched thin.

Bucky’s throat tightened. God, he wanted to tell you everything—that you weren’t alone, that he would wait as long as it took.

But he knew better. You weren’t ready for comfort. Not from him. Maybe not from anyone.

────────────────────────

It was a quiet afternoon. The sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains in pale streaks, painting long bars of gold and dust across the wood floor of Bucky’s apartment. The television was on, low volume, something benign playing that neither of you were truly watching. A news segment passed with a fleeting image.

Your eyes tracked the screen, not really watching. But then a flash of red, white, and blue passed across it. A helmet. A shield.

Your voice was flat when you spoke, cutting through the silence between you and Bucky like a knife. “I remember seeing him on TV. Cap.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away. You could feel his hesitation more than you could see it. His body shifted from where he sat across from you—still, guarded. You finally turned your head toward him.

“Where is he?”

He ran a hand through his hair, the metal fingers brushing just behind his ear.

“He’s gone,” Bucky said eventually, voice quiet.

You blinked once. Slowly. Processing.

“Gone?”

Bucky sighed through his nose. “Steve went back… after everything. After we won.” He paused. “He went back in time. Lived out his life. Came back… older. Real old. He passed away earlier this year.”

You stared at him. Not blinking now.

“So he left you behind.”

The silence after your words was sharp. Bucky’s brow creased. “No,” he said quickly, too quickly. “He didn’t—he was just—”

“You mean he could’ve taken us both home,” you said, not cruel, just even. Hollow. “Could’ve brought us back. But instead we’re stuck here. In a world that doesn’t know us. Doesn't want us.”

Bucky shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

“He gave up.”

“He didn’t give up!” Bucky’s voice rose, sharp with something he hadn’t meant to let out. “He gave everything, you don’t—he did what he thought was right.”

You looked at him, head tilting slightly. That same detached focus, the way your eyes pinned him—not with malice, but with cold fact. You weren’t being emotional. You weren’t attacking. That was what made it worse.

“He was selfish.”

Bucky stood now. Tense. His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching by his sides.

“Don’t say that,” he muttered. “You don’t get to say that.”

You stood up too, slow, unhurried. “He left you. After everything you went through. After everything we went through.”

“Stop it.”

“He took peace for himself and left us with the ruins.”

“That’s not what happened—he thought I’d be okay—he trusted that I could—”

“That’s not trust. That’s abandonment.”

“Stop it!” Bucky snapped, voice rough, cracking, fists clenched so tight his knuckles—flesh and metal—strained. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see how broken he was. What he lost. He earned that life.”

You didn’t flinch. Just stared at him, eyes dim but focused. “And what about what we lost?”

Bucky started pacing, running a hand through his hair like he could scatter the frustration from his scalp. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” you said, tone still maddeningly flat. “What’s not fair is waking up seventy years after your last memory and realizing the only people you trusted are either dead, ghosts, or decided to stay in the past.”

You turned, already walking toward the hallway, not angry — just done with the conversation.

“Don’t walk away,” Bucky said sharply, stepping after you.

His hand reached out — not fast, not forceful — just to touch your arm. Something gentle.

You flinched before he even made contact. The shift in your body was instantaneous — reflexive. A dodge like a breath, like muscle memory. Your spine stiffened as your arm slipped from his grasp, your eyes suddenly sharp.

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, voice cold and loud and carved out of something ancient.

Bucky froze. His hand still hovered in the air. He stared at you.

You weren’t looking at him anymore. You weren’t really even here. Your eyes had gone somewhere else, farther back. You were breathing too fast, too shallow. Your body stiff, locked down.

And that was when Bucky understood. Really understood.

It wasn’t about him.

It was about him.

The one with the metal arm who used to drag you through concrete floors when you disobeyed. Who'd wrap his hand around your throat when your eyes held too much rebellion. Who struck you, again and again, because someone ordered him to.

Even when Bucky had been free for years, the ghosts still lived in his hands.

And you… you still saw them.

His hand dropped. Guilt flooding every inch of his face.

“I didn’t mean to—” he tried, voice lower now, thick in his throat.

You didn’t answer. You just walked past him, through the narrow hallway, closing yourself into his room, he had given you, without a word.

Bucky didn’t move for a long time. He just stood there. One hand pressed flat over the other. Like he could keep himself from reaching again. Like he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

But the truth was branded now—burning beneath the surface of his skin.

He hadn’t earned your trust.

And maybe he never would.

────────────────────────

You didn’t want to go.

That was the first thing you made clear, arms crossed, jaw set, suspicious eyes watching Bucky like he might lead you off a cliff instead of down the D.C. Metro escalator. You hadn’t asked where he was taking you. He didn’t tell you, either. Just said, “It’s important.” You didn’t like the way that word made your chest tighten.

The museum was too bright.

Too open. Too filled with noise and breath and movement. Everything felt too fast and too slow at once. Your boots echoed on the polished floors, steps cautious and silent like instinct, like old habits that had never really died.

Bucky stayed near but didn’t try to touch you — not since that day. He led you quietly, nodding at the security guards like this was something he did often.

You hated how many people were looking. Even when they weren’t.

When you entered the exhibit, the air shifted. Cooler. Calmer. Reverent.

A bronze plaque on the wall read: Captain America and the Howling Commandos. Beneath it — sepia photographs. Names. Artifacts behind glass. There were curved helmets, worn boots, faded letters.

Bucky paused beside you.

“This was the first place I came after I got out,” he said, voice quiet, like it didn’t want to disturb the ghosts on the walls. “Didn’t know where else to go. Didn’t even know who I was, really. Just… remembered pieces. Faces.”

Your eyes traced the familiar ones. Dumb Dum Dugan, Gabe Jones, Montgomery Falsworth. Jim Morita. Happy grins and tilted hats and the smell of gunpowder you could almost still taste.

Then you saw it.

Your own memorial.

It was set apart, just slightly — not grandiose, but longer than the others. The image they’d chosen was one you didn’t remember being taken. You were young — about twenty two— perched on a wooden crate in fatigues rolled at the sleeves, head turned mid-laugh, hair slicked back but wind-loosened, fingers curled around a rifle too heavy for your frame. Your expression was too soft for war. Your eyes too alive.

You blinked at it.

Above the frame was your name, carved in brass. First Lieutenant, Tactical Reconnaissance. Grey Fox.

And beneath it, the words Presumed KIA, 1945. Missing in Action. Last seen on mission in the Austrian Alps.

You felt your throat tighten and couldn’t explain why.

“Why is mine longer than the others?” you asked, quietly, too still.

Bucky glanced over at you, then at the plaque. “Because you were a big deal.”

You gave him a look, skeptical.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “Only woman in the Howling Commandos. One of the first women to serve actively alongside combat troops. You were kind of… a symbol. They said your service helped inspire the Women’s Armed Services Integration Act in ‘48.”

You scoffed, faintly. “So they threw me on a wall.”

Bucky smiled, just barely. “They honored you. You meant something to people. Still do.”

You stepped closer to the glass. The uniform behind it was familiar. Yours. The same patches, same leather. There was even your knife — the one Howard Stark had gifted you before that last mission. The one you lost in the snow.

You didn’t remember losing it.

Didn’t remember dying.

Your voice was flat. “They thought I was dead.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “They did.”

You turned to him. “Did you? After Hydra.”

Bucky didn’t look away. “For a while.”

Something in you curled tighter, like a spring wound too far. “When did you remember?”

He shifted, brow furrowing. “Not right away. It was all… fragments. Flashes. And even when I saw your face, I didn’t know if it was real. Steve had to tell me. He said you’d come after me — that the day I fell off that train, you went looking.”

Your breath hitched.

“I don’t—” you started. “I don’t remember that.”

“That’s okay,” he said softly. “I don't either.”

You looked back at the photo — that too-young version of yourself, all spark and reckless pride, before Hydra carved you hollow. You felt something stir in your chest — not grief, not quite. More like the shape of grief, wrapped around something else. Something you didn’t have words for.

It should’ve been easy to keep walking.

To follow the curved path of the exhibit, to drift past the tributes like a ghost among glass and old light. But your steps faltered when your eyes caught it — the photo.

It wasn’t a combat shot. Not a press photo or wartime propaganda. It was a quiet moment. Just the two of you. The Colonel stood in uniform, hat tucked under one arm, and you beside him, barely twenty. The background looked like the docks, water glittering, your dress hem catching the wind like a flag. He had one hand on your shoulder, firm but gentle. You were laughing — head tipped toward him, eyes squinting in sunlight, mouth open in mid-word.

Your stomach turned.

You hadn’t seen his face in decades. Not like this.

People always assumed a man like that — a military father, a colonel — would be stern. Emotionless. Cold. But he wasn’t. He was exacting, yes. Fierce when it came to protocol and discipline. But when it was just you and him? He was warmth and humor and the smell of clean shaving soap. The only one who called you by your full name and somehow made it sound like affection.

He was your favorite person in the world.

You reached out before you realized what you were doing — fingertips hovering above the glass, as though you could touch the edge of the photograph and fall through it.

Beside the picture was a framed newspaper clipping. A headline in bold type:

“Decorated Colonel Honors Missing Daughter in Public Address”

— November 3rd, 1945

Your throat clenched.

You hesitated. Then stepped back.

“I can’t,” you said quietly. “I don’t want to read it.”

Bucky glanced at you, then down at the plaque. “Want me to?”

You nodded once.

But He stepped closer, eyes scanning the plaque. His voice was low, a little rough.

“To say that I lost a soldier would be true. But to say I lost just a soldier would be a terrible injustice.”

“My daughter — the one you knew as ‘Grey Fox’ — was many things. A tactician, a tracker, a fighter more ruthless than most men I’ve commanded. She earned her place in the Howling Commandos not because of her name, or mine, but because she earned it. Day after day. Battle after battle. She was sharper than steel, braver than men twice her age, and she never ran from anything — not even fear itself.“

“She was stubborn from the start — wouldn’t follow the rules if she thought they were wrong, wouldn’t back down from any fight worth having. And yet she was kind. She was soft in the way only the strongest people are. She made people better just by standing beside them.”

“They’ll tell you she was tactical, skilled, a leader. All of that is true. But I want people to remember who she was when the orders were done. She liked swing music. Had too many pairs of shoes. And twice as many dresses. Spoke her mind without apology and carried a silver locket with her mother’s photo, that she thought no one ever noticed.”

You felt it then — the sting behind your eyes. The tears building, slow and traitorous. You turned your head away, lifting your hand as if the simple motion could shield you from what the words were doing to you. But they kept coming.

“And though the world may mark her as lost — let me be clear. My daughter is not forgotten. She lives in every fire lit in the dark, every brave voice in the silence, every young girl who believes she can stand in a place no one thought she should.”

“She gave everything to her country. And I don’t know how to say goodbye to her. I don’t know how to let go of my little girl—”

Then his voice cut off.

You waited. One breath. Two.

And when the silence stretched too long, you asked quietly, “Why’d you stop?”

Bucky didn’t look at you. He kept his eyes on the plaque, jaw locked. “That’s where it ends,” he said softly. “The article says he couldn’t finish the speech. He—” Bucky hesitated. “He walked off the podium, too choked up.”

You turned toward him slowly, scoffing.

“No,” you murmured, voice thick. “The Colonel never cried.”

It came out too genuine to be anything but memory. Something certain. Like gravity.

You shook your head, pressing your hand to your eyes as the tears spilled freely now, silent and hot, streaking down your cheeks without restraint. There was no sobbing. No sound at all. Just that kind of grief that closed in around the chest, so dense it felt like the world had narrowed to a pinhole.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, voice breaking on the edges. “For reading it. For bringing me here.”

Bucky stood beside you, hands flexing at his sides. He didn’t reach out. Couldn’t.

Not because he didn’t want to — but because he knew you wouldn’t let him.

And maybe, in that moment, standing in front of a monument to a life you couldn’t remember and a love you’d buried somewhere deep — that was enough.

────────────────────────

You sat at the window again, the late morning sun slicing through the thin curtains like a scalpel. You didn’t feel it. Couldn’t, really. You were aware of the light, the way it bled over your hands resting on your knees—but it didn’t feel warm. Just… distant. Like everything else.

Bucky was in the kitchen, fumbling with something—probably another attempt to make coffee the way you liked. You didn’t tell him he never got it right. He tried too hard. He always had.

The silence between you two was the loudest part of this place. Even when he tried talking, even when he looked at you like you were a wound he couldn’t cauterize. It made your skin itch.

He thought he owed you. You knew it. That was what this was. This apartment, this half-life, these careful touches and softer tones—this was guilt. This was his penance.

You didn't know who you were anymore, not really. The world had moved on. Your war was over but still echoing in your blood. Bucky was the only familiar thing left, and even he felt warped—like a shadow of something you couldn’t remember clearly. You used to laugh with him. Tease him. Steal his rations and call him pretty boy. Now… you couldn't even meet his eyes for longer than a breath.

You weren’t stupid. You knew trauma bonding. You knew conditioning. You knew how Hydra twisted wires until they sparked like emotion, cracked whips until loyalty sounded like love. What the Vixen and the Winter Soldier had wasn’t a bond. It was survival.

This thing between you and Bucky—whatever it was, whatever it had once been—it was born in the dark, bred in pain, sharpened by orders and obedience. Hydra’s hands were all over it. You felt it every time he looked at you too long. Every time he brushed your arm and you flinched.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. And he was too deep in his guilt to see it.

He was helping you because he had to. Because he’d hurt you. Because he'd bruised you in those white walls and watched handlers drag you by your hair. And this… this domesticity—it was the last bullet in his gun, a way to sleep at night.

So you stayed quiet. You stayed small. You tried not to think about the way he used to make you laugh just by cocking an eyebrow. You tried not to remember how you’d watch his reflection in puddles during missions, not because you were tracking him, but because you felt safer when you knew where he was.

That was all conditioning. It had to be.

It had to be.

────────────────────────

She sat at the window again. She always sat at the window.

Bucky stood in the kitchen, palms braced against the counter. The coffee machine groaned, spitting out something bitter. He didn’t look at it. He couldn’t stop looking at her.

Her profile was the same. Sharp. Still. But her shoulders—he remembered them being straighter. Her spine taller. Now they curled inward, like she was trying to fold herself into nothing. And it gutted him.

She hadn’t smiled in weeks. Not the way she used to. Not with that smart-ass grin that used to crinkle her nose and make the whole damn camp warmer. Back in the barracks, before the frost, she used to razz him about his hair. Called him “Sargeant Shampoo” once. He’d laughed so hard he dropped his tray.

That was real. It was. He knew it in his bones.

But she didn’t believe it. She thought he was helping her out of guilt. That their bond was a Hydra artifact. And Bucky could barely look at her without wanting to scream.

Because if that wasn’t real—if her laugh wasn’t real, if her hand in his wasn’t real, if the way she used to stay up for him when he came back from solo missions wasn’t real—then nothing was. Then he wasn’t real. Then everything he'd clung to in that white noise void of the Winter Soldier—every memory, every flicker of light—was a lie.

And goddammit, she wasn’t a lie.

She was the reason he didn’t put a bullet in his own head when the voices got too loud. She was the reason he hesitated in ‘89. The only one who ever fought him like an equal, and the only one who made him feel like he was more than just a loaded weapon.

She thought this was guilt.

Bucky had been guilty a long time. That was nothing new. He could live with guilt. What he couldn’t live with was this—this chasm between them, this damn wall she kept her heart behind. Like he was just another ghost from the operating table.

He closed the distance between them slowly, cautiously. She didn’t look up. Just stared at the sky, as if she was waiting for the war to start again.

“I know what you think this is,” he said finally, voice low. “You think I brought you here because I feel sorry. Because I’m trying to make up for what I did.”

She didn’t say anything.

“But that’s not why I’m here,” he continued. “I remember you. Not just in Hydra. Before. You—”

His voice cracked.

“You used to make fun of how I tied my boots. You once saved our whole squad by yourself. You—You were kind. Brave. And we were real.”

That made her flinch. He saw it in the way her fingers curled.

“I never hurt you because I wanted to,” he said. “I hurt you because I wasn’t me.”

She looked at him then. Her eyes were glassy, but not soft.

“And what if I’m not me?” she asked.

Bucky didn’t have an answer.

He watched her rise, walk toward the bathroom, close the door without a word. He could hear the faucet turn on, even though she never washed her face until after dark. He stared at that closed door for a long time.

And somewhere in his chest, something cracked.

────────────────────────

“This isn’t working,” you said, voice low, raw.

You stood in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself as if you were trying to hold your own ribs in place. The quiet stretched, thick and suffocating, like it had weight. Bucky stood across from you, like always—close, but never quite close enough to make it feel real again.

He blinked, as if trying to make sense of the words. As if you’d just spoken in a language he forgot how to understand.

“What do you mean?” he asked, but he already knew.

You didn’t look up at him when you said, “I don’t think we should be around each other anymore.”

The silence after that was devastating. You didn’t mean for it to sound like a kill shot, but it landed that way anyway. He staggered where he stood, barely, but you saw it. Like your words had stabbed him clean through and now he had to pretend it didn’t hurt.

His breath hitched. His jaw clenched. “We can still try,” he said, desperate, his voice cracking like splintered ice. “We’ve come this far. Don’t walk away now. Please.”

Your heart fractured. You wanted so badly to feel what he felt, to be what he needed, to believe this could still be something salvageable. But every moment you were around him, it was like being underwater—your body drowning in silence, your mind screaming against the weight of ghosts.

“I don’t know how to be around you without... without being afraid,” you whispered. “Of myself. Of what this is. Of what it means.”

“You’re not afraid of me,” Bucky said quickly, eyes wide with something that looked like grief. “You never were.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” you corrected softly. “I’m afraid with you. I don’t know how to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep waiting for the white walls to come back. For someone to scream an order. For the part of me that was me to vanish again.”

His mouth opened, but no words came.

You looked defeated. Not angry. Not cruel. Just tired—of yourself, of this world, of the weight you both carried. The kind of tired that lives in the bones.

Bucky took one small step forward. Then another.

“Just stay,” he begged, broken. “I’ll be better. I’ll—”

You shook your head. “It’s not you.”

He stopped.

“It’s what’s left of me.”

And then—because you didn’t want to leave him without at least one last thing—you opened your arms.

You let him touch you.

His hands trembled as they slipped around you, pulling you in like you were something sacred, something breakable. Your arms went around his neck, slow, unsure. His chin rested against your temple. Your heart raced and calmed at the same time, a contradiction of longing and fear.

You stayed like that longer than you should have. And when you finally moved to pull away, his hands reflexively tightened around your back. You stilled at the pressure—not rough, not painful, just… desperate.

A sad, shuddering sigh left your lips as you rested your forehead against his collarbone. You let him hold you a little longer.

Then, when you pulled away enough to meet his eyes, you looked at him like you were looking through time. As if you saw the boy from the barracks, not the broken man standing before you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “that I couldn’t save you.”

Bucky’s eyes welled with tears, his throat working around something he couldn’t speak.

“I promised I would,” you continued, barely above a whisper. “Back when they took us. I swore I’d get us both out. And I didn’t.”

His hands loosened. Just slightly.

“I’m also sorry,” you said, voice trembling now, “that I don’t know how to be okay.”

You leaned in, pressing a single kiss to his cheek—a soft, lingering goodbye that clung to him like a fingerprint burned in time.

When you stepped back, his arms dropped, slowly, as if his body refused to let you go even though his mind knew you were already gone.

And Bucky—he didn’t cry. He just stood there.

Frozen.

Watching you walk toward the door like he’d watched so many things slip through his fingers. Like he had all the strength in the world but none of it could stop the fact that this time, he was losing you not to Hydra, not to death—but to your own will. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

You left him standing in the center of that apartment. Alone. Still reaching.

Still waiting.

Still loving you like it might make a difference.

Welp, if you've actually reached the end and want to read something that will make you feel better, I recommend, Come Home To Me

also:

[austinslounge]

This is gonna be a little longer, because I wanna try a different approach….wish me luck 🤞🏽

According to those of you who believe Austin is with…checks notes…Alice, Emrata, Kendall, Madelyn, Zoe or Sydney there has to be something going on there because he….checks notes again….followed them and/or has good chemistry with them. Oh we can’t forget, Deuxmoi & shitty gossip blogs told us, so adding all that together *apparently* equals Austin has a girlfriend, or many.…..

Well if we use this same logic, then Austin’s gotta be dating Ashley Tisdale. I mean they follow each other! Have amazing chemistry! And they have spent a lot of time together over the years! I mean Ashley even posts Austin!!!! They’re totally dating! And he’s also got a thing with Riley Keough going on! They’ve got real deep connections!!! He’s also probably hooked up with Léa Seydoux, I mean did you see their chemistry in Dune?!? Oh and can’t forget Jodie! I hear they’re already planning the wedding! Which I really can’t believe because that means he’s cheating on Janelle Monáe! *please feel all the sarcasm as it leaks from my body into the phone and through your screen* Are we seeing how damn dumb that sounds? How foolishly insane that all is?

Austin’s known Emrata for yearsss. They may not be the best of friends or even all that close, but they ran in the same circles during their Nick days and they run in the same circles now…sorta kinda. He’s known Sydney for yearrsss! I’m not even gonna get into Zoe again, I’m letting that woman rest. I’m not even gonna entertain that, because it’s just past acceptable now. I’m not even gonna sugarcoat this, but I see Austin begging for redacted back and signing his career over to her before he dates a Jenner or a Kardashian….feels like I don’t even need to explain that one lmfaoo. Deuxmoi aka the person responsible for the rumor, cleared it up, Madelyn was never around or with Austin. Alice….ykw? Y’all can go to wonderland with this one and take the edited photos & be articles with ya!

He’s just started making his return to social media and already some of y’all are looking for ways to fuck it up for everybody. Maybe, he’s following these women back, because he’s on the app more, trying to figure it out, since yk he’s not all that used to it? Maybe he’s doing it, because he’s no longer in a relationship and it can’t be seen as disrespectful to his relationship, because unlike the witch from Hansel & Gretel he actually respects people and boundaries. I know for sure when he got on instagram to be normal!!!, he wasn’t expecting his “fans” to turn around and make something so minuscule, this major.

He isn’t in a relationship!! But if he was, some of y’all are really proving why he should stay private and hide shit from the public. Y’all got me worried for the next girlfriend 😬

I get it. Boyfriend Austin is a beautiful concept. Dreaming of being by his side, who hasn’t, but taking it to the point where you’re forcing him into relationships with every woman he comes across so you can then project onto her isn’t okay. I feel like we beat around this bush too much, but let’s be frank. The reason a lot of people push for Austin in a relationship or supported him in a shitty one is so that they could vicariously live out that dream. Which honestly him being single should make the fantasy/dream better no? Or is it the relationship that does it for you?…..honestly don’t wanna know, it’ll only lead to more questions ���🤚🏽

I’m not gonna judge anybody for how they get through their day, but I am gonna judge you if you take it to the point of harassing people, making them uncomfortable, or outright bullying.

Like I said, I get it. Fantasizing about Austin, what a time! Love it when he makes an appearance in my dreams! 🤣 But are there not better ways to enjoy those fantasies, that doesn’t involve shipping and arranging the lives of real life people as if they’re playable characters in a video game? Write a fic?….make a request?….try DR? (is that what it’s call?) idk shit, but please please please stop trying to force these ideas down our throats! And learn how to differentiate fiction from reality.

And I’ve said this before, don’t mind saying it again. Austin’s single and that’s what he wants! Him being single is fine! He knows what’s best for himself, when he’s ready for another relationship he’ll get one and we’ll know when he’s ready, not when little tinfoil hat theories wake us up in the middle of a daydream. If you can’t just simply support Austin, single or not, he doesn’t need your “support as a fan”. You’ve gotta stop running to Deuxmoi to try and gets your opinions validated. You’ve gotta stop going to every blog and saying the same shit hoping somebody’s gonna feed into it. Don’t treat Austin like a human Ken Doll!! There is more to him than boyfriend material!

He’s filming a movie right now….do you care about that?

Do you say anything about caught stealing other than your AustinxZoe fanfic?

Were you not happy seeing Austin at Cannes? Hearing about his performance in Eddington?

Does his career not spark more interest than his love life?

Idk about y’all, but I’m kinda over this “who is Austin Butler dating” thing. He’s more than a significant other. I’m more interested in the fact that after so long he’s exactly where he dreamed of being. I think making your dreams come true is way more exciting and important than your relationship status, unless your dream is your relationship status lol. I think I speak for a lot of people when I say, we honestly don’t care as long as she actually cares about him and makes him happy. We don’t care if she’s his age, older, a little younger. We don’t care if she’s brown, yellow, green, or blue. We don’t care if she’s a nepobaby or rich or a regular girl. We only care about AUSTIN!!! That man could date himself and as long as he’s happy and healthy his real fans will support it.

@unicoo Girl, you did it again! Lol 😆

I couldn't have said it better myself. I agree with everything you said. 💯

I agree with you, there is so much more to Austin than just who he is dating! And yes, to me the fantasy is better when he's single rofl. 🤭

Sadly, I think that some fans only get excited about an actor when he's in a relationship so that they can self-insert themselves in. It's really weird, but that's the impression I'm getting.

I think that maybe the Anon might look like Sydney, and wants Austin to be dating Sydney so much so that she can live vicariously through her. (Lol notice what I did there? 😏)

In all seriousness though, fans need to stop with the obsessing. It's going to make things weird for him, and we don't want him to get uncomfortable and start treating fans like they have the plague. Do you really want that for him?

He's probably already kind of weirded out by fans even caring about his love life like that (if we're going to go by what the WOTP (Woman on the Plane) claimed during her conversation with him lol.

Like you said, I don't care who he dates, as long as it's someone who's kind, genuine, treats him well, and he's smitten with her. I don't care if she's a nepobaby as long as she's talented, isn't a clout-chaser, and isn't using Austin for personal gain. I don't care the race, size, age etc as long as she's age appropriate and mature-minded.

Anyway, I hope fans really read what you had to say because it is so on the mark.

[brackenfrond]

Me: *playing around with the idea of having three Wardens instead of just Carver in bg3*

Me: *is hit with the parallels between the chosen three and Loghain, Nathaniel and Carver*

Me: well shit now I have to write this

[fumifooms]

Kabru party analysis - Trust, and codependence vs emotional unavailability

I flip flopped on calling this a masterpost a lot, but looking back, yeah. While I do compile every fact I can about the party and its characters a significant part of this is interpretation, extrapolation and speculation enough that it's an analysis more than compilation at this point. Feel free to skim, skip around, whatever makes the experience more enjoyable and useful. I’ll also try and compile parallels they have with their Laios party counterpart, since them being foils and ‘shadow version’ of sorts to our main party is a big part of their fun fact meta, I am however most interested in analyzing them as their own characters- and as a whole together as an entity & narrative device. I did end up getting into narrative and thematic analysis for the main story... Mostly the Kabru & conclusion segments though.

But ultimately the goal of this post is mostly to analyze their relationships with each other because I think that’s the messy interesting part of their group, beyond just being a kabru party facts list.

Table of contents:

Kabru + party timeline

Rin

Holm

Daya

Mickbell

Kuro

Relationships and overall dynamic

Do they matter at all to the story?

For easy finding if anyone wants to do a focused reread, the main chapters featuring the Kabru party are 10, 15, 31 and 32, and then with chapter 45 everyone but Kabru (and Rin) stops appearing until the final battle.

Kabru of Utaya & his party

What to say about Kabru that hasn’t already been said, how to summarize him as perfectly and concisely as possible… I don’t think I can reasonably do him full justice here! This is an analysis about his party and not just him so I don’t want to spend forever here. Unlike every other character in his party Kabru is a main character of Dungeon Meshi so plenty of analyses around, meanwhile information can be hard to find and string together for the rest of them or the party as a whole. This isn’t a deep dive on Kabru but a summary, I’ll go over his timeline, goals and general attitude.

This'll be critical for later, but notice here that this means Kabru's party formed 2 years before the story happens. We get no indication of whether or not party members have changed much or little over those years, even if the party overall seems somewhat incompetent. Kabru's profile says that despite his skills, his lack of experience makes him a mediocre party leader and we do have that inexperience with monsters and dungeons, from what we see in canon. It's partly due to his foster mother training him intensively in combat against humans but seemingly not monsters or dungeon survivals, and partly from what we see with canon's framig because Kabru has no interest in monsters- You know and understand what you love better than what you hate, so Kabru is good at fighting humans and Laios is good at fighting monsters. The party does have rather good chemistry in action, with Kabru orchestrating everyone with commands, but they still end up being defeated as often as not, and despite Mickbell's warnings Kabru pushes to go to a dungeon floor lower than he thinks they can handle with their current ressources, for example. Laios' party at the start of canon were broke, but it's only because their money got lost in the dungeon and (chap 28) the bank would take too long to get their tokens back & take money out to save Falin- meanwhile Mickbell talks about being in the red just because of their current unfruitful dive, meaning they aren't as successful and have tighter finances overall. We see the party hanging out in taverns off-work (though not unlike Laios' very occasionally does as well) and things like Kabru meeting Dia's fiance and the party visiting Kabru's room, so they mayy be paralelling how it's said Laios' party hung out very little outside of work? They don't seem much closer for it, though.

One other thing to note is that Utaya is not necessarily his birthplace/hometown? The details are unclear, the adventurer's Bible does refer to it as his birthplace twice, but it's also mentioned several times that his mother was "chasen out", even in the original japanese. It sounds like leaving a town to me, but it could be that they were only driven out to their house and moved to a different part of town...? Either way, his mother was "chased out of home" after he was born beause of his blue eyes. Of course, Utaya is where the dungeon overflow tragedy happened when he was 6-7 years old, so it's the town Kabru and his mom were living in, one way or another. It's also mentioned kobolds lived near Utaya, explaining him speaking some kobold, which kobolds also implies the region had conflict beyond the dungeon overflow considering what Kabru says about kobolds in the kobold page.

Her mom having been "chased out of home" over him and then working hard as a single mother to support both him and herself is likely to have made him feel like a burden, which may have influenced his selflessness: the way he's hardworking, the way he neglects himself, the way he keeps others at arm's lenght (maybe thinking getting closer to him would do them no good)*, the way he can be very quiet and a great listener, gauging others' needs- the same way he was his mom's venting outlet when very young whenever she got drunk. *I explore this possibility more in this kabrin brainstorm post. The insecurity of being an incubus/monster, especially with how Kabru did see people transforming into monsters in Utaya- A very interesting recurring angle for him.

Let's be clear, as Kabru shows again and again his goal was 1) to pierce the mysteries of the dungeon, and 2) ensure that if anyone defeats the current dungeon lord that they won't accelerate the process of the dungeon overflowing or use the power for evil, essentially that the dungeon's power won't fall into the wrong hands, which includes him thinking the canaries shouldn't get the final say in how to handle it all. His goal/plan of becoming dungeon lord himself was to take care of both of these in one go.

He's been at this for years and he's seen a lot of things firsthand when he was 6, so already when he first confronts the canaries at the Island governor's he explains the stages of degradation of a dungeon quite well, he has his own theories that turn out accurate, but he's made them while being barred from most information on dungeons, which the elven monarchy controls access to. Goal 2 is always the main point, but goal 1 is important in order to be able to do it efficiently. Once this, goal 1, is achieved and Kabru learns about the demon through Mithrun, he becomes solely focused on goal 2 again (whereas the On Floor 1 chapters ended with him breaking alliance wth the canaries to demand answer) to ensure the demon stays under control and to stop the current (and possible next) dungeon lord. And then, well, the meeting at Thistle's house happens. Defeating the dungeon then at the beginning of canon was half-cover, a simple unsuspicious way to present his goals, half-goal 1 which would also take care of goal 2 by Kabru himself becoming the dungeon lord, as said. The canaries show up so he indulges in goal 1 while carefully teetering on being an obstacle to the canaries and helping them, and then it's right back to goal 2 with renewed determination together after he and Mithrun fall down into the dungeon and Mithrun spills everything. He doesn't trust Laios as dungeon lord, but he also doesn't trust the elves having the sole duty of managing dungeons.

It becomes this sort of tug of war of distrust, of who does he trust less to ally against, who does he trust more to ally with, which side to take once it's clear his own side isn't viable alone- he ends up somewhat playing double agent covertly through the story, but ultimately he ends up more or less trusting everyone and playing double agent openly with the final battle, quote unquote having faith in humanity & others, which he'd been cynical about for so long, finding red flags in everyone. But yes yes backing up again, he came to trust Mithrun during the six days in the dungeon together, but not the rest of the canaries and when they meet up again he's still on bad terms with them, we see it at Thistle's house where he tried obfuscating Laios' party's secret and pinned Mithrun to keep him from chasing after them, preferring for the ball to be in their court and for Mithrun not to go kamikaze mode.

His interest in Laios also extended to Falin, their party was quite capable and was more or less next in line to beat the dungeon, but since she died and Laios went into it on a shocking desperate mission, Laios becomes a focus of his as they make very quick progress. No one dungeon diving ever went beyond the big doors guarded by the gargoyles, but Laios' party passes through them just a little after Kabru and Mithrun team up.

All these deeper thoughts were largely unknown to his party members before the story.

He’s secretive and often cold with his party. Even Rin, presumably the closest friend he has, the one who’s devoting herself to specifically following and helping him (while the others also seem to admire him and partly follow him to put him on the dunlord throne, they have their own reasons too), is left in the dark with an arm of distance kept between them. Kabru first reveals he's been keeping an eye on the Touden's party during the sea serpent 2 chapter for example, and goes into it a little more during the Toshiro-Laios parties meetup chapters.

Although, it might be more appropriate to say that rather the party members aren't really listening. Kabru spoke about his goal to keep the toudens away from the dungeon lord title here, has a whole speech about influence and power falling into the wrong hands, and their reaction is "we know, only you is fit to be dungeon lord!" when that's never been the actual core of the matter, the point. It was the red herring being set up yes, that that was only what kabru wanted, but ultimately looking back he's always had that guardian type motivation more than leader, being a judge and executioner more than a king on a throne, he wants to support what's good and dismantle what's bad, so it suits him to have become a politician in the end instead of the ultimate chief. That also goes into his arc- him learning that sharing duties and goals is good, that he doesn't have to do everything alone and fully trusting others when teaming up can be beneficial, that he alone doesn't have to be the sole voice, that his shouldn't be the sole choice to be made about matters or courses of action. So going back to the topic- another instance of his explanations being dismissed is in this convo with Rin above- Again he talks about dungeons and reveals hints about his true goals, yet after all of this Rin literally only goes "hmm" and silence falls, and then she says she's hungry. Wether she was contemplative or uninterested, the change of topic is rather quick and unceremonious. And this is the person who'd know best about his motivations too, knowing his past well.

And maybe this phenomenon is also why he gets peeved at Rin here and silently chides her. In a "she should know how to think this through by now, she should've taken a second to observe and remember how we do things, she should think deeper about the true important matters" way etc etc. What are we doing this for, what do you take me for? This kind of righteousness is detrimental rather than helpful and strategic, Rin.

I place both Laios and Mithrun to be very important to Kabru's character and arc, and with Mithrun a significant part of the puzzle imo must have been that Mithrun listened, easily understood. Mithrun understood the gravity and danger of dungeons, was even similarly a victim of one. Where everyone else shallowly misunderstands or dimisses what he says about dungeons and his goals, they're very understandable and familiar to Mithrun, and such bumps don't happen with him. Mithrun isn't playing the social game the same way as others, he just dishes out whatever blunt straight to the bottom of the matter points, he skips the social dance Kabru often gets so hang up on, in a way that helps kabru communicate with him honestly rather than hinder, especially since Mithrun is still quite good at reading between lines. This could be a good part of why they take to each other rather quickly and team up, each other's rationale and plans feel intuitive to the other and they find someone else traumatized by the dungeon, someone who understands, understands not only what he's talking about but also what must be done, the ruthlessness needed. And Laios comes to ultimately balance this out, not invalidating their wants and needs but showing there are other ways to proceed, other people to trust, even when they don't intuitively understand them.

And on that note I want to talk about Kabru and laios' confrontation. I've already said that his "Laios obsession" is about his dungeon goals and that's very straightforward, and it only got to this point because Laios previously dodged his every attempt at closeup info gathering and still now he can't get a read or grip on him. BUT while some think Kabru's "I just wanted to be friends with you" is just a bullshit he made up on the spot complete lie, I don't think so. We see Kabru cycle through some explanations, angles and speeches he has like scripts, like one of them on the second page is close to this. And we know they're like scripts because that's what he said and how he spoke with his party, the backstory talk, the framing, it's all how he presented it to others as well. But he knows none will work on laios, Laios pushes him like Mithrun to go offscript, to find new approaches and communicate in ways that are more vulnerable and uncomfortable. And Kabru has trouble finding that angle that'll work with Laios, because he doesn't know Laios well enough, and that's what he wants, too, it feels so frustrating and vulnerable not understanding him. As his desperation mounts it sort of just slips out- I wanted to be friends with you. Childish, simple, inappropriate for the grave context and very embarrassing. And he immediately freezes and backpedals- BUT Laios endlessly dunks on the very idea that it could be true and that sets kabru off- after which he unloads a more personal perspective of how it was like chasing after him. And I think that's what it is, it's not a lie but it's a bit of an oversimplification- Not the full reason, but a part of it. Kabru wanted them to get to know each other better and get along, for him not to have to kill Laios, a want he still clings onto even when stakes are rising. He says it all himself here, explains his statement after Laios all but laughs in his face in disbelief. I think this scene and the slip-up shows that Kabru does have a desire for connection, that even when he's all calculating and manipulative with his business mode on, there's that desire under it all. And with Laios, well, what better excuse is there to be interested in someone that so conveniently is at the center of his plans and goals for the dungeon? Meeting practicality and genuine interest makes for this- I don't think that's unique to Laios perse, I do think Kabru is interested in people in general like he himself puts it in contrast with the touden siblings who don't, but with Laios the difference is the utter onesidedness of it, the brick wall of social cues he doesn't know how to approach but both needs and wants to. Repressing a desire for social connections, being bound by it despite wanting to not need them, is a common theme in Dungeon Meshi! And I think this fits into that. It's in the grabbing of Laios' arm too. Yes it's from despair, from the situation and from not being heard out, but that despair hides a desire, and it's a desire both to fix everything and to be seen and heard finally. And you could theorize it's his time with Mithrun that made him help realize here that yes there's some truth to wanting to be friends with Laios, and learn to seize the opportunity, to chase it not just through mind games but also try honesty, bluntness...

His arc with Laios (and with Mithrun) is a lot about teaming up imo, his party disappears and accomplished little because he never fully opened up to them, but when push came to shove and he was thrown into teaming up with someone (Mithrun) unfamiliar with no pretenses possible in an urgent situation he slowly gained trust for him, he learns that trust can be valuable even through the risk, enough that by the time he has to make his ultimate choice of going against Laios and even killing, vs helping him and letting him do his own plan, conflicted as he is Kabru still chooses to defend Laios from Lycion and have some faith- and this despite having his own opinion dismissed by Laios in the scene we just looked at. He is putting faith in Laios to have the weight of that world he was carrying alone for years put into someone else's hands, upon their choices, despite it meaning everything to him. Dungeon Meshi is a loooot about community and unity, about reaching each other halfway to have understanding and accomplish things together, better, and Kabru's arc very much is about that whole thing. Laios decides to go with his own gut instead of agreeing with Kabru's pleading, and there's much to say about that, but ultimately I see it as Kabru being forced to reckon with having to put full trust in another person's judgement yes, terrifying and risky, but sometimes it'll pay off. Seeking to understand each other earnestly IS good, and it's only after all pretenses are out the window that things start to look up, compromise shows willingness to do that.

So like. Mithrun's half of kabru's storyline is about being understood, getting some of that social connecting need he's been neglecting and showing how genuineness pays off, meanwhile Laios' half is about understanding others, seeing the flaws in how he approaches others. How do you expect people to understand you if you aren't earnest with them, Laios asks? Lycion hammers it home too, being the one to expose Kabru having been fake with Laios and trying being very blunt and direct with Laios. With Mithrun he learns to socialize without playing 4d mind chess again, it's easy with him befause he's so uninterested in respecting social conventions anymore and is so blunt and honest, and with Laios he learns to apply that. Mithrun is his parallel and Laios is his contrast.

Okay this was the story arc bit now getting back to a character analysis focus. Kabru is interested in anthropology in general, with a genuine interest in learning about people and languages & helping people at large. He's concerned with the greater good and "preventing Utaya from happening again", not because he himself doesn't feel safe but because he wants to prevent tragedies in the world, tragedies that affect others the way he's been before. Kabru is individualistic in the sense that he takes everything upon himself, doesn't readily trust others with decisions, but he's also incredibly selfless. He's dedicating his life to investigating dungeons and stopping their meltdowns, thinking someone else than the elves must get involved, he has personal reasons to be motivated to stop the demon but unlike Mithrun it's not out of revenge but out of a concern for others' wellbeing, while Mithrun's motivations are stuck in the past Kabru's are in the future's. In his determined pursuit of his goals he neglects his own needs and wellbeing- Due to his upbringing with the sheltering Milsiril, Kabru has a hard time even doing basic care tasks like cleaning and cooking, if it wasn't for his landlord doing the cleaning of his rented room for him it'd be very messy, bottles laying around because he drinks alcohol to help with insomnia regularly for one. Dungeon diving isn't all that profitable, especially being Kabru's party, and it's unsafe, and it's uncomfortable, and not exactly well seen- He's not enriching himself either in wealth or status, and yet Kabru his spending his every day and every ressource researching about dungeon diving parties on the Island to keep an eye out for possible future dungeon lords, making influential connections like the shadow governor, and of course dungeon diving itself. He even puts it himself, that he'd rather die in a dungeon in pain than stay at Milsiril's, and it's very important to remember that unlike Laios Kabru hates dungeons- He loathes monsters, is terrified of them and the threat the dungeons make, and doesn't even seem to have true curiosity or interest for dungeons' workings beyond how to stop them from causing harm- his dedication to dungeon diving is solely in relation to his mission. While I'm sure he does find some interactions fulfilling here and there, he also keeps himself from connecting with others, treating relationships either as tools (like drinking is to him) or situations to people please and focus on helping fix their issues like with Dia's fiance, sinking a lot of time into it and not opening up himself, gaining nothing from it except maybe some loyalty and reputation, a sense of satisfaction and a sense of having done a good thing.

The end very much justifies the means with him. He's one of the more politically conscious and few greater good caring people of the cast but he's not without bias, his talking about kobolds for one... more on that in the kabru & Kuro section. He's not blinded by ideas of good and evil since he has no problems with greyer areas if the ultimate result is good- but he can be blinded by laser focus somewhat. His fear over Laios- while clearly not unfounded since kui herself stated that at the beginning of serialization she really thought Laios would become a demon king as dungeon lord in the end- makes him take rash decisions, where if it wasn't for people reviving and saving his party again and again and again, Kabru would never have even met Laios. See, again the theme that he can't achieve his goals alone even if he tries. He doesn't want to share burdens and plans, refuses help sometimes, but he does rely on it like everyone else, and ultimately I think that's what his arc is about like we covered- from being so distant with his party to opening up with mithrun and ultimately, in his kill Laios vs trust Laios dilemma he picked trust.

I do think growing up with Milsiril shaped him into who he became a lot, not only because he had access to knowledge with her ressources and her teaching yes, but most importantly imo he learned to manage an emotionally needy adult. It's mentioned his dead mother would sometimes vent to him when drunk, and it's different but similar to Milsiril being a sensitive recluse hermit who jumps from tears to anger in the blink of an eye, with emotional manipulation whether intentional or not, guilt tripping for even small things like which home cuisine he picks to talk about. Kabru grew used to having to anticipate and pacify or counter Milsiril's moods, to push through the wails and downright threats to be able to make a point and be heard like when saying he wishes to go into dungeons, and she seems to overburden her kids with the task of managing her emotional stability like I implied. She doesn't have friends except literally maybe just Helki her employee, she likes dolls and interacting with her kids and that's all that we see, so she seems emotionally dependent on her kids and esp Kabru imo. So like with how he operates in the present, he learned to "manipulate for good", what words tend to set people off, what ways to phrase things make pills easier to swallow, what face is most pleasing and soothing, what gestures are too much and what gestures are too little. Daily life and ineracting at home with his foster family became a visual novel with right and wrong answers and for smooth days he needs to be a good kid. Milsiril & Kabru is a topic for another day but I do have a lot to say. I do want it to be kept in mind here that Kabru's opinion that it's impossible for elves to see eye to eye with shortlived races is explicitly linked to his experience with Milsiril, as written in his Adventurer's bible pages. This coming up is definitelyyy a headcanon though but since [Helki is the only friend adjacent relationship we know milsiril has] and their relationship is master & servant there's grounds to theorize about how much kabru interacted with him too- how much Kabru saw Milsiril and Helki interact, his only father adjacent figure you could even say... As @room-surprise puts it, growing up in that house watching Milsiril and Helki and himself he learned that life is not to eat or be eaten but instead "to use or be used". Having grown elsewhere than the rigid elven kingdom first, that place with its tons of social etiquette rules and hierarchy, helped him be more critical of that society even as he observed how it worked and how he could work it, his original home may have not been much more welcoming, but sometimes difference is all that's needed to start comparing and realizing how systems are built, and not innate or unchangeable. I think being thrown into it rather than born into it shaped how Kabru perceived it. Psychology also helped him deal with his own trauma imo- in the incubus & parasitic bee comic it seems rationalizing the people from his hometown's superstitions helps him make his peace about it, makes it feel less personal, more distant- it's not my great aunt thinking I ruined my mom's life by being born, it's the human instinct and phenomenon of people being scared of what they don't understand, like a child with pale blue eyes. People being scared by what they don't understand, hm, it really always goes back to this in Dungeon Meshi doesn't it.

I think it's needless to say at this point but it's obvious Kabru is a character very affected by trauma. Faced with monsters, which've ravaged his home in the blink of an eye, he shakes and hesitates. He gets flashbacks when thinking about eating monsters. Wild topic swing but believe it or not there's a recurring "is it ptsd or autism" debate that often happens with characters, including L from Death Note for example, and Kabru has had this phenomenon in a niche of the fandom too. As one myself I do heavily relate to Kabru in the lens of him being an overachiever masked autistic, who unconsciously was drawn to learning psychology out of a need to do so and used to approach social interactions as a more scripted and logical affair than intuitive, and that was in part due to trauma yes- but autism and social-based trauma that pushed you to overcompensate and overachieve is, well... There's a causal link there yes, and it's a tendency that does happen with autism, especially in its afab presentation. And Kabru having ptsd is pretty much undeniable, so then, both? Personally I would claim kabru suffered not only the trauma of Utaya being destroyed but also social trauma living through being feared and hated by villagers and then taken in by elves and being constantly talked over- again different but similar to Rin's own experience and trauma. Truth is Kabru not being autistic doesn't change all that much from the "Laios caught his eye because he doesn't mask well and Kabru has to teach him about it he has to tell him that's illegal and look out for him" magnetism theory because that's also what ptsd does, someone with ptsd depending on the trauma also can become very scripted and nervous about skirting from it. Autism just gives it a more personal lens, where it's not only trauma but just who you are, always feeling a bit apart from everyone else in a fundamental way. In the end what autism and ptsd share in situations like this is that they treat social situations like a survival game, no fun included. This isn't the kabru is autistic analysis that's another topic plus many exist already I bet, but yes just know that these are common and coherent readings that can give a good lens for his behavior or obsessive tendencies.

Last tangent last tangent- but words are Kabru's main weapon right, knowledge is Kabru's main warfare method. Being in a society and with a parental guardian who doesn't put weight into your opinions and wants, speaking and being listened to is hard, and Kabru learned to play the game and dance the dance until he could make connections anywhere. It's of course relevant with how he dealt with Misilril and just how he continues to approach problems and matters now too, it's a way to be, a defense mechanism too, again like Rin's. It's interesting to note that it's Milsiril who taught him a lot, which he mentions is what he's grateful for her for most, teaching him and training him- and isn't that very in line with how Milsiril also felt spoken over and rejected by elven society as well, how she despises elven society even. Almost as if knowledge is a tool when you're devalued and pushed down in a society- Something that was important for Milsiril to teavh to him, which also fits nicely in with Kabru teaching Kuro the common tongue later on too. Milsiril's approach to the game of hierarchy was to keep her head down and obey orders until she could retire living rich as a hermit and foster parent, though, and that's emblematic of where they differ too- Kabru wants to be proactive, do more prevention with dungeons to have less damage control to do, even if you have to throw yourself into danger, even if you have to seek it out, so he makes connections and builds influence and goes dungeon diving. Milsiril wants to go away from trouble, leave to be safer, avoid danger, in life like in work, so she decides to live away from wider society to deal with her trauma and social anxiety, and so she retires and doesn't understand why Kabru would ever want to go near a dungeon again. Words are Kabru's main weapon but ultimately he drops arms and shed this attitude for open communication instead... 😌

I've started doing more analyses with enneagrams, I'll link back here when I make my first enneagram character analysis feature with Laios but in the meantime, sorry if you know nothing about it... If I had to call one for Kabru right now, 5w6/6w5 and 163 for tritype? Which would somewhat complement my reading of Laios as a 4w5 478, being his contrary in the action center 1 vs 8 which is the center that dictates how you judge/approach others/interactions, and the order being that the socialization center is the facet that's most important to Kabru vs what's least important to Laios. Inversely what's most important to Laios and least important to Kabru is the heart center aka how you judge yourself, your relationship with your own self-importance, Laios is very concerned with his own identity and interests and flees oppressive places that make him need to conform too much meanwhile Kabru is to himself only a tool for his greater goal and is ready to sacrifice individuality and his own comfort for it. But hey why would Kabru be 6w5 but still have 1 has his most important type in his 163 tritype? Well 6 is the desire for stability, security, and 1 is the high strict standard & concern for what's right vs wrong. I would consider 6 as his more important type because it's that desire that shaped his 1 importance given to morality, justice, good on a wider scale, etc, especially as someone marginalized where moral policies naturally benefit more people, often especially those devalued ykwim? Bettering the country with policies is right and also benefits him, he thinks everyone should have stability and safety, that it's the most important thing for everyone, but it presents as a 1 way to deal with that issue.

I think an important recurrent theme you can notice here too is onesided and unbalanced relationships. Kabru had the role of significant emotional support to both parental figures he had in his life, when as a child you're the one supposed to emotionally unload and the parents are supposed to take on them and manage the both of you, and it's made him be stuck into that mode sort of by default, letting others open themselves to you as much as they want but not opening up in turn, being more detached and unemotional- and of course, that's what's needed when you need to fix things, when you have to make sure everything is taken care of. It's the approach he takes both for his life and for relationships, so he shuts out his own emotions and pushes himself for others and for the world. He likes knowing, but not being known, because that's not supposed to be his role or purpose. He knows how burdening that can be. It does make the reversal of Laios being interested in Laios actively and Laios being uninterested in Kabru himself interesting. I don't know Kabru knows himself all that well, it's always about others so he doesn't take nearly as much time pondering his own wants, I think that plays into the "I wanted to be friends" too. It's how he's so able to get Dia's fiance to emotionally unload on him and vent over a couple hours and so at ease with it- he's used to it. Ah and even with Rin! He was specifically asked to befriend Rin as a kid, a very heavily traumatized girl- he was asked this because he's a shortlived race kid like her and nice, was asked this by his foster mother for the canaries' sake- he was literally put into that emotional support situation there too.

I am not mentioning every parallel & contrast he has with Laios I don't wanna be here all day!! But hey where Kabru had his town ravaged by monsters as a child and has always holds importance for having community, Laios fantasized about monsters tavaged his town because he hated his community, for one. In this precise scenario, Laios saw flaws and he immediately wanted to give up on that community, meanwhile Kabru saw flaws and wanted to fix them- Well, mostly, since Kabru did give up on relations with elves for a good while, and both end up amending those beliefs and seeking to make a better society within the golden kingdom together.

Here is my very quickest Kabru analysis apparently 😭😭 I NEED to get dragged offstage this can't go on- Idk man I still haven't gotten THE ANGLE with Kabru's narrative in the story I still can't see one thread that makes everything seamlessly connect together like it usually happens with Dunmeshi for me, but there's so much going on here about typical dunmeshi themes like authenticity, balancing considering others & your own needs and connecting...... But my biggest impression after my first read that still lingers now is that Kabru was in good part there to embody that people are a tapestry and that we're like an ecosystem, you can't carry the weight of the world alone because you are not alone and humans are creatures that accomplish feats through being social, like how Kabru couldn't have defeated the monster without Laios' help, Laios couldn't have gotten this far without Kabru's interference. Again it's all comes to that final battle where everyone, different as they may be, come together to fight on the same side, to save their collective world... And the guy everyone believed in least being the one on who all hope and faith and trust is placed in the last desperate shot at winning. Idk man!!! What are we doing here go touch grass breathe in the breeze hug your loved ones what a joy it is to be alive and human!! Take example on Kabru and love yourself. Because you're human and he loves humans I mean- don't actually take notes on self-love from Kabru that would not go well I feel. But yeah like to me Kabru's party gives me a nudge of what direction I should go in to figure out what his portion of the story is getting at, the importance of Kabru's party then becomes showing the state of his relationships at the start of the story before things get shaken up, as contrast and a reference point...

Rinsha Fana

OKAYYY here we are. Not everything is about you Kabru! <- said with Rin's voice (it really truly actually is lol)

I've already done an incomplete analysis of her here, please look at it for Rin pictures & material, but basically her sour and strict attitude seems to be a defense mechanism she can't fully control, like how she tends to frown when she wants to smile. Kabru's words about it are somewhat dubious to be sure, we don't have a guidebook on "when is Rin truly angry and when is she just smiling upside down :) ", but it is notable that Kabru does have a point with that, from what we see.

Her nagging attitude is part of that defense mechanism- As explicitly stated several times, her main purpose in following Kabru is that she's worried he'd get himself into trouble without her. Not unjustified, since he has trouble even cleaning and eating well, and then he gets all wrapped up with the canaries during canon, but yes according to Rin he's too smart and reckless for his own good. This may be why he sees her as a big sister figure, she nitpicks every little thing but at the end of the day her support is unconditional and she'll stand with you whenever you need her. Sort of like a big sister, she gives tough love but ultimately just wants you to be healthy and to take your pain away.

She had a very difficult upbringing, seen as a heretic to burn at the stake in her early childhood then treated like an animal when growing up with the elves. Her parents had an unaligned religion and its practices are tied to how she learned magic, which is why her family was reported to the canaries as dark magic users, but not in time for them to arrive before the townspeople killed her parents. Where with the elves Kabru learned to people please in order to gain more agency and safety when he grew up seen as a pet, Rin learned to be irreproachable and stand her ground when she grew up treated as an animal. The townspeople in Kabru's hometown sought to break up his home and chase out his family, and they may have threatened heavily for all that we know, but Kabru was able to keep his love for humans and belief that humanity is good, the trauma he has is of monsters killing people during the dungeon overflow- Rin's trauma is townspeople burning her house down and lynching her family until she was the only survivor. She sees others as a threat, and not without reason.

Both Rin and Kabru wear masks socially. They go in opposite ways though, Rin oversells her toughness to tell people not to mess with her, she makes herself closed off and intimidating, meanwhile Kabru is more of a chameleon but mainly, he makes himself seem open and appeasing, unthreatening to be trusted and liked more.

She was sent into shock and suffered through severe trauma especially since the people who collected her amidst all this, the canaries, are very ill equipped to deal with emotionally/mentally fragile people, especially shortlived race kids. Because of this whole situation she has some contempt for those who had it "easier", like mages who went to magic school instead of having to self-teach like Rin did. And some of this is disdain that where she had to study everything on her own others have teachers to guide them through it all, a sense of superiority, but imo it's also doubtlessly a defense mechanism, an anti magic-elitism where she sneers at them before they can sneer at her. Before they can call her uncultured, she calls them talentless. Counter before they can even strike. Defense mechanism. In the main story, we hear of this tension Rin has about academy mages with how she speaks of Marcille and her spells- specifically she's rude about Marcille's protection charm/ward and says something about how the one who did it was definitely an academy mage because the spell is too by the book in chapter 32- and this is what I mean, she takes issue with how strict about rules and spells they are, how much they conform, because her own background is being severely mistreated and sotracized for being an unaligned unconventional mage, for doing magic outside of these rules and books. Interestingly, we also see in chapter 10 though that she looks down on people she sees as not successful or capable, saying that they'll definitely defeat the mad mage and "we won't be hand-to-mouth adventurers like you people", perhaps from trauma too- wishing to put a distance between the group she'd normally be categorized with and who she wants to become, or having felt mocked by the guy who talked to them before by having been related to them, because she's so on guard and bad faith always. We don't really know the details of Rin's time with the elves, escept that she was "minded like an animal". We don't even know where she stayed, even, just that Milsiril couldn't take her in because her house was already full. Where did she stay, then? Some shitty orphanage? I like to think she stayed with the canaries as "an impounded article" until she became an adult and left with Kabru, explaining even more her attitude since she'd have all the military influence, and further proving the point that any success she earns was self-made, that anything she knows she had to teach berself because her environment never gave her opportunities. But yes wherever it was, we can only assume that it was close enough to Milsiril's mansion or easily accessible, because Kabru and Rin continues seeing each other. It seems like at first, they would have made trips just in order to have Kabru befriend Rin until she could talk. They may have continued through letters eventully too if they couldn't meet. Hust a lot of uncertainty on every ground, all we know is Rin and Kabru became important to each other.

We actually know little of Rin and Kabru's pre-canon relationship, but we know that Rin was taken in by the elves some time after Kabru was, after her parents were killed by townsfolk and report them as black mages to the canaries, who arrived too late to be able to tell, so just took Rin in and...... Well we know very little of how she was treated, too, even where she was kept, just that Milsiril couldn't take her in and that they "minded her like an animal". We know that Kabru wanted and wants to "get her away from the elves somehow", something he doesn't say about the other kids living with Milsiril and explains his reason as being because Rin has bad experience with the elves, but it's unsure how Kabru left home and how Rin came to go with him. Because of that quote of his though it's likely he invited her along when he left, and she followed. But it's not confirmed, for all we know Kabru could have only invited her after 2 years after leaving when he founded his party. It's obvious Rin holds no love for living with the elves anyways, but we don't know how much freedom she had- it was hard for Kabru to be allowed to leave because he was coddled, notably only leaving 2 years after he reached in-world adulthood despite having first voiced his want to leave when he was a kid, but meanwhile I like to think Rin left very easily because no one cared, she was something that took up space and food where she wasn't wanted or needed, an obsolete "impounded article". She was catatonic when she was first taken in, but it's likely things were cleared up once she was able to talk that no, her family wasn't practicing black magic, and then the canaries just didn't know where to send her because she had no home or family anymore. But then, if she could leave whenever she wanted why wouldn't she have left earlier? Probably precisely because of Kabru too, because she didn't want to leave him. She loves him, and they're more or less the only friend each other had, so she couldn't just leave him behind and try to build a life without him, similarly to how he couldn't do that either. She stayed for Kabru and she left for Kabru.

I made another little post speculating more about her life with the elves and the possible impact of Flamela here if you're interested, as well as elaborating on her abandonment issues and the importance of Kabru to her.

Rin does seem to believe in Kabru's cause, in making him dugeon lord and that being important, but her main motivation is still pretty clearly that she's doing this for Kabru because it's Kabru. She doesn’t seem to really know why or what, just that it should be ‘someone who deserves it’ that beats the dungeon and becomes dungeon lord, and her first lines show her determined to prove everyone they can beat the dungeon. Like stated, her main motivation is she wants to make sure Kabru's safe and out of trouble, so hey why not put the "heretic" magic she learned to use and become his offense mage, why not use it to manage a feat so big and desired (defeating the dungeon) that everyone will have to admit she and her art are worthy of respect, to prove to everyone she can make it with her own skills and own unconventional knowledge. Her magic, the last remnant of her family. Her house burned down with everything she possessed, and she's said to have little attachment to her culture due to having been an immigrant on top of everything else, so the memories and knowledge they've taught her, the lessons they instilled in her and the person they tried to shape her to be, that's all that's left of them. She never speaks of them, at all, likely due to the whole heay childhood trauma thing, so we don't really know her feelings on well, everything, beyond that it was traumatic. We don't know what her relationship with her parents was like. She's a very closed off person. That's another contrast we can point out with Kabru, Rin flees her pre-canaries past and never brings up her family, has little attachment to places she's lived in or her culture, but Kabru is fixated on remembering, brings up his mother and culture whenever he can like in the halloween local sweets extra, has made the tragedy of Utaya at the center of his entire life mission. Rin and Kabru really are contrasts of each other in how they deal with trauma I think, whereas they both become very guarded in very different ways I think this highlights how simlar he may have felt with Mithrun, the both of them having become obsessed with their trauma and eradicating the cause of it which happened to be the same thing, having become workaholics and consumed over it.

She's in love with Kabru, but the way I see it it doesn't seem like she's particularly pursuing him romantically. I do think Kabru's occasional flirting with her gives her needless hope, but I don't think getting with him is either her goal in following him or her plan, I think she's content just following him to taking care of him selflessly, even when she knows he can be a womanizer and dishonest asshat, albeit she'll complain every step of the way yes. Again, unintentional big sister attitude.

Post-canon, she keeps in touch with Kabru and becomes a pharmacist, presumably living in Merini but there's no mention of the location, we just know she's kept touch because of a post-canon extra with Laios and Kabru. Her new profession supports that 1) Rin likes caring after others and 2) Rin never had an interest for anything about dungeon diving in itself. It's also ironic, since she was a offensive mage and didn't do healing.

Contrasts with Marcille, where to start... Marcille is optimist and rather open and Rin is pessimist and fully closed off, Marcille is social and smiles a lot and Rin is the reverse. Both of them have a caring mom friend attitude, but Marcille is more gentle and coddling about it whereas with Rin it's pure tough love, both of them do this to a often stifling degree (Falin, Izutsumi, Kabru). There's the contrast in their appearances too, and how Marcille dresses practically but Rin is more flashy, with an... Ambitious skirt cut? They're both elegant but in different ways, they're both very bold in fights, and stubborn and loud in their beliefs. Marcille was a more or less sheltered girl who learned magic in an academy while Rin learned on her own at the cost of blood and sweat. Both of them seem to have grown up in towns rather than cities, a more rural setting, since there were large fields and chickens roaming where Marcille lived and the little we see and know of Rin's town makes it seem closed on itself. They were presumably lonely growing up, Marcille had no peers because of her irregular aging and spent her time absorbed in novels, where Rin because of her family and culture/race was mistreated and avoided and it seems she spent a lot of her time focusing on learning things instead, perhaps paralleling novels with textbooks even in young age. Marcille lost one parent of natural causes and was traumatized by it to the point it became at the center of her life mission, and Rin lost both parents to murder and was traumatized by it to the point she avoids thinking and talking about it ever again. Both of them seek to learn, use and even create unconventional magic eyond the rules set by people. Both of them have cat energy, thank you for coming to my ted talk

Holm

Holm is actually rather mysterious. The biggest thing to notice here is that Holm has been to elven jail before, because his research was too close to dark magic. We have no idea of what his research was about at all, we have no details and little clear hints. He's a man of theorics though, it shows in how he talks about magic and spirits, and with his christmas gift exchange gift it shows how nurturing living things with magic really is something he enjoys and has interest in. It's not a lot to go off of, especially since we know canaries are trigger happy when it comes to dark magic, both arresting people who had minor brushes with it or that seem suspicious without any confirmed crime, and with elves exaggerating people's crimes so they become a canary for manpower. Who knows, maybe he is dungeon diving to try and subtly do research at the same time, but the way we get no hints of that and he just keeps working as a spirit user post-canon makes me think it's just work to him. He never mentions researching or seems to be studying something in the dungeon so it doesn’t sound like that was significant part of his reason for dungeon diving. So he had his run-in with authorities and decided to live more simply from thereon. But that could also just be because of the nature of dark/ancient magic and how it more or less poofed from the world after the demon left, too. With the truth revealed and ancient magic unavailable to channel anymore, research becomes less needed and viable. I doubt Kabru knows about his past. Again, much like Laios' party pre-canon, what got them together is work before anything else, with the added bonus of Kabru spinning an important narrative about conquering the dungeon to become dungeon lord.

His chill laidback, more passive and calm attitude makes him feel more vague and mysterious too, hard to get a good grip on, but he’s also the most mature and put together of the group. Very mellow. He's not quiet to the point of seeming asocial like Dia somewhat does, he just seems... Average, in the extra about his sister for example. And good at keeping secrets. His skeleton in the closest is the jail thing and that's that, seems like it put an end to his researching career and he’s now settled for being a spirits magic user as a job which brought him to dungeon dive. Nope sir prison isn't worth it I'm keeping myself into trouble from now on. What job can I do now though, my specialization is spirits arts... Dungeon diver, okay sure. It could be theorized that his usual attitude + his secret are a persona of sorts, where he keeps himself largely hidden and keeps people at an arm's distance. It's pointed out he freezes in the face of conflict- it shows he dislikes fighting, even being worried for the spirits he makes fight, and that makes me think even more that dungeon diving wouldn't have been his first choice. It could also be a good part of why he's so laidback and quiet then, passive. He dislikes conflict, so he avoids being in the spotlight also helpful skill to have when you've had run-ins with the law, and he has such the nice guy reputation that Mickbell doesn't think twice about crashing at his place in the middle of the night- and sure enough Holm lets him in and practically serves him. You could think him a doormat, but we see with the comic of him & his sister that he's very capable of being mad and agitated and go more on the offensive in a social situation, but yes he has that helpless -panics and wails while all his coworkers does things around him against his will- energy that's pretty sopping wet cat. He seems chill and cool but oh no he was actually the stressed overworked protagonist of a sitcom movie. My condolences for your life Holm. In general he's also a decently judgemental person, and although casually and often with a smile he has no problem "telling it like it is", calling out Mickbell's treatment of Kuro and talking about how Kabru can't clean for shit, how he'd "be willing to do anything to achieve his goals" and is too people pleasing, etc. He's confident in himself, and pretty set in his beliefs though we see him debate and compromise with Kabru.

His sister is the only personal relationship we see him have, but it's stated. She must live on the island too, considering Kabru visits her. The Island isn't exactly a place you're typically born in, so it's interesting to wonder what it means that both Holm and his sister would have moved there. Did their parents disown him after he got arrested over his research? There's nothing to say they did, but nothing that hints they didn't either, honestly, so Holm is a bit of a blank slate backstory wise as well. We know his religion's very important to him too though, and it affects his diet. His spirits are very dear to him and it's mentioned for example that he's raised his undine since basically the spirit equivalent of a baby, so it's implied he's been raising spirits for a long time. If his social life doesn't seem to be thriving, his spirits are definitely filling some of his social & connection needs as pets would. He does both healing and offense.

His contrast with the Laios party would be Falin since they're both healers lowkey doormats who notice the flaws in the people around them but don't act on them and prefer being passive and take upon themselves. They both love nature and were pushed by capitalism and rigid structures that prioritize conformity into work they aren't passionate about. The most important thing in Holm's life seems to be his spirits, and the most important thing in Falin's life are her loved ones, I'd say his enneagram is 592 while Falin's hmm, 926.

I ramble more about Holm in this kabuholm post and compile more of his moments, but it's more speculation than analysis, it's a take on him essentially. My personal verdict is- king of staying in his lane. He's here for work and he keeps his thoughts to himself to speak when it's necessary, he's not afraid of letting people have it outside of that though. The separation of professional and personal life is not going to great with his coworker occasionally imposing on his home lol. Reflecting his maturity, he lets others handle themselves and only steps in when he's needed. Hm, sounds like someone else doesn't it?

Daya

First things first: Daya or Dia? You'll probably have noticed I use Dia, and the reason is pretty simple: Daya/Dia is a nickname. Her official name is Diamond, but the shortening is always used instead- Diamond we have an official spelling for, the nickname we do not. Since it's in katakana (da-ya) and a fantasy world, translations call her Daya, but that's the same pronounciation as the "dia" in "diamond", and isn't it logical for her nickname to just be a shorter version of her actual name? We do know that Kui translates names to katakana being mindful of their pronounciation and not just spelling, like how Tims in Chilchuck tims is written as timzu. Yenpress the official english translator has messed up character names before and this even after official spellings came out, like Mikbell and Sissel, but notablyxthe anime english translation has also gone with Daya. But so, yes, I call her Dia, but of course there's no right or wrong here and by going against official translations I'm making things harder than they need to be. It's just...... Hard to unsee.......

Daya is very underrated for having such an interesting background! She was esentially raised in a cult? The "dungeon keepers". That protects dungeons, in that they keep people from going into it. She never knew why it was an important thing to do, and never questioned it, but as readers at the end of canon we now can imagine that they kept people from going into dungeons so that there would not be new dungeon lords and dungeons would not overflow. Ultimately, Dia fled her home and community because she refused the notion of marrying an older relative to have a child. There's a mistranslation from Yenpress that Namari is from the same tribe as Namari, when the original japanese sentence is just about how they're both from the same race- both dwarves.

No wonder with this background that she "has a slightly otherworldly air". She's very stonefaced and hard to read, but with the focus on duty and discipline she had growing up it's easy to see how she'd have become a somewhat emotionally constipated person in this way. She fell in love with someone of her choosing and is intent on marrying him, contrasting with the man she was ordered to marry back home. It's with a renewed interest in understanding what the life she'd spent so long upholding was about that she went back to work with dungeons as a dungeon diver, in her own words with the goal of understanding what they were protecting. In this way, it seems the marriage order was truly the thing that made everything snap and finally caused her to shake up her life, to look back and start questioning everything- and now she's free, she chooses what to do with herself and who to be with. It's said she loves her husband, and her husband seems very attached to her as well. Somewhat paralleling Chilchuck and his wife, we can imagine how nervewracking it must be to be the spouse of a dungeon diver, who faces death for a living. Dia is very independent and disaffected on top of it, so we see that her fiance feels insecure and even doubts she may cheat on him with Kabru. This insecurity is born from feeling like Dia doesn't need him- and so may leave him in the future. He feels neglected, and Dia probably doesn't show him love and how much he's valued in a way that he sees or satisfies him. That said, her fiance after a couple of cups and an hour with Kabru is shiwn to be very open and emotional, which would presumably complement her well. Dia seems unemotional but she does have her bouts of strong emoting, whether it be distrust, worry, frustration or even wonder- That said, she's not the greatest conversationalist around and I can definitely see her not really understanding how love, care affection and attention, is supposed to look like- Again, she grew up in an extreme social environment.

She's bold and fierce, confident, and notably very very strong. With training from a young age not only in discipline but in fighting she's a warrior born and raised. These are considered tomboyish traits, but I do like how Kabru and the adventurer's bible calls her a lady- she shows wonder at the treasure insects too! She's not disinterested in oretty things, or anything of the sort. We just have little window into her interests, since her life centers around work so much. She also calls out Mickbell for his mistreatment of Kuro, but also does nothing about it. She's quiet and is most often seen closing up the tail end of the psrty looking around for threats while they're on the move. She's quieter than Holm and also more standoffish. The queen of staying in her lane, if you ask me. We'll be talking more about it in the relationships section but you can already see this very interesting party dynamic forming of Rin and Mickbell having their nose all up in others' business while Dia and Holm are very permissive and quiet even while kabrin and mickuro look insane from an outside perspective. Who knows what normal looks like to Dia, though. She disliked Namari because her father made things rocky for dwarves on the Island for a while, so that can show how critical she can be and how her value of not sticking her neck out and staying put & not rocking the boat manifest/the why of it. Like in her home community we can imagine, you have a role in society and being overly disruptive can ruin things for everyone including yourself- even if the one who did the mistake was your parent the fault befalls on your whole family. Very strict hierarchy based outlook on society and community I think... It's interesting that despite of having been a victim of such behaviors herself, part of those faulty lessons stuck with her and she upholds much of the same fallacies.

All of this is very interesting foundation for a character, but yes not much else is developed on Dia and that's wher her story starts and ends- I'll make a diaholm post eventually that delves into her themes of freedom and emotional wallbricking but that's about it from me. I like to think that she likes her husband, but rushed into marriage- that going from a life where everything was structured and decided for her by others to having nothing but choice, from the prospect of marrying an old relative to anyone she chooses, she sort of picked the first guy she liked and made a move on her. Pure speculation, because I like exploring the side effects her upbringing would have had and this sort of detached attitude she has, with some typa off attachment style...

Fun facts: if the modern au christmas gift exchange extra is to be believed, Dia enjoys reading and has some books of her own. In a Daydream Hour she's drawn with Holm out of their work uniforms but she still has a sword at her hip, which may mean she carries a weapon with her even just around town. She has two younger siblings that she never mentions and we presume she left behind at home.

Mickbell Tomas

Okay okay okay now the true insanity may begin! Please refer to this post to see Mickbell's profile pages. Also see the bath comic for another great show of his character! I cannot make a mickbell collage for this there is no pic page umm ummmm additional compilation here.

Despite being an adult of 22 years old, even older than Kuro both literally and developmentally, Mickbell often acts rather juvenile. He tends to be very black and white, he wanted to steal the corpse retrievers’ stuff and was mad when Kabru didn’t allow it, he thinks Kuro talking to others will make Kuro leave him. He's judgemental (exhibit A: comic about Rin smiling) and critical (esp with Kabru). All means justify the end (him having fun, becoming rich) but if others do something wrong efficiency or annoying behavior wise you better believe he'll voice it. He’s very expressive, both in body language and words, swinging his arms as he walks and jumping and stomping the ground in anger. He also has a mischievous streak. He’s casual with touch, touchy feely if you will, and clings to Kuro a lot, both for safety and because he simply likes to. Cough cough separation anxiety and abandonment issues. He knows how to be serious however, especially when it comes to money or risky situations. He does his job well and does it conscientiously. In many ways he's similar to Fleki, if Fleki was more dedicated on the job. He may be very layered, and manipulative when he wants to be, but he seems to value in others the same type of directness that he has with emoting and interacting with others, as seen with his distaste for Rin being a tsundere. He's blunt and straightforward (whenever he isn't with Kuro or scamming), and in that way it seems those are values of his, which may be why he does usually gets along best with Rin, especially on the job.

He has loose ethics and likes to goof around but is otherwise often highstrung, reflecting Kabru's "relax a little" view of him. He's serious on the job- a contrast you can especially notice in the christmas exchange special. He had to steal and do scams to survive, again the christmas special shows he's good with money and making deals- mischievous and full of himself when he has to sell stuff and quick to flee when he smells trouble, but very focused when it comes to calculating costs and revenue.

Again, despite all his troublemaker toddler behavior Mickbell is surprisingly serious! It's still undeniable that he has capital i Issues, from being very uncaring about how others may see him and developing this "it's us vs the world" mentality with Kuro, to how emotional, exaggeratingly expressive and impulsive he is- in a way that lacks emotional regulation skills I'd even say, to what he says when something displeases him like "she'd be a lot cuter if she smiled more" about Rin after she doesn't laugh at his jokes... This all seems to point towards Mickbell having pretty bad emotional intelligence. You could even easily call him stunted. He doesn't seem very self-aware, his manipulation of Kuro is not something he can do solely unconsciously but it is genuinely debatable how much he knows he cares about Kuro, how much he's aware of what he feels & why, why he says what he says and does what he does. What would he do if you told him that trying to manipulate Kuro into thinking that everyone except Mickbell wants him in shackles and in pain and wanting to have a house and a nice domestic normal life with him is sort of mutually exclusive? I don't think he thinks about the wider picture like that, I think it'd cause some dissonance a bit. He thinks ahead when it comes to finance, but socially he seems to very much live in the moment, not really trying to anticipate how much others will appreciate his input or behavior or thinking about how he'll keep up the charade 2 years down the line. He wants to hustle his way out of being homeless, but in many ways he still has the mentality he had to have for running scams and surviving on the streets at his lowest, one day at a time, succeed this step so you can then succeed the next. In his mind he's constantly making charisma rolls on Kuro and he needs to not fail them.

Don't you worry Mickbell & Kuro is getting a whole section, buuut with Mickbell and Kuro both, character analysis is inseparable from analysis of the two's relationship. The ethics and circumstances of Mickbell working Kuro for peanuts are surprisingoy complex- because that is how Mickbell sees their dynamic, but Kuro sees it completely differently and assigns himself full agency in wanting to stay. Kuro obviously wants to follow Mickbell, and that’s what Mickbell takes advantage of unknowingly, what he thinks is Kuro’s helplessness. What I find much more alarming is Mickbell’s need to control not only Kuro's economical and social life but every aspect of his life. He’s not only overcontrolling, paranoid that someone will want to steal him away from him (both for Kuro’s sake but very transparently desperate to not allow Kuro to leave him as well- will get expanded on), but he also wants to isolate him. It’s no coincidence Kuro has no friends apart from Mickbell- the closest thing would be Kabru and even with him, communication can be difficult and Mickbell does interfere. It's not Mickbell's fault there is a language barrier, but it is Mickbell's fault that Kuro has amassed so few tools in navigating the world without Mickbell, but it is his fault that Kuro feels like he can't tell him he's learning common with Kabru, and it is Mickbell's canonical intent to render Kuro just that, powerless enough to need him- again I cannot overstate how it is straight up said and confirmed in the Adventurer's Bible that Mickbell mistreats Kuro the way he does because he's scared Kuro would/will leave him. Mickbell sees their relationship as employer-employee while Kuro sees it more as guardian & guy who needs to have one, but it is also said that Mickbell sees Kuro as family, and I do think that makes sense, and I do think it can't be overstated how on a deeper level it's Mickbell who needs Kuro, and that Kuro is Mickbell's absolute most important person in the world- his only person in the world, even, in many ways.

"Until he met Kuro, Mickbell was all alone in the world, so he seems to see him as family."

Mickbell is desperate for stable relationships, both seen with his clutch on Kuro and his wanting a house to settle in. Or I suppose, relationship singular, he seems very ride or die on the idea that Mickbell and Kuro are the only thing each other needs, he never seems to particularly try or want to befriend others, is a bit clammed up on himself. Distrustful, assumes bad faith, especially as we see with the half-foot union. Perhaps because he's never felt a sense of community where helping each other out of good will was a thing, survival made everything transactional living on the streets, so he has a hard time having good faith with organizations like unions, and this notion of relationships being transactional would have also shaped why he would frame his and kuro's relationship that way, as employer-employee. Not to say he doesn’t like socializing though, we see him work a room all self-satisfied and tell jokes in an extra comic, and he gets peeved when Rin doesn’t laugh at his jokes, he does like getting general social approval. As he isolates Kuro he also willingly isolates himself, and is ready to burn bridges or opportunities for him.

He's sleazy! Debate about egg or chicken all you want, but I think Mickbell running scams definitely shows in how manipulative he is in relationships as well. With the christmas gift exchange thing we see that he can do scams the straightforward way, selling an item to be much more than it us for an inflated price, but it is specifically said that Mickbell doesn't have half-foot pride the same way Chilchuck does and has no problem using his race to "curry favor", so I would think he's done the emotional manipulation kind of scamming as well, acting like a child in need or such. "If you can use something, you should" is stated to be his motto. Because in a life like his you don't have a lot, you seize the opportunities you get because it's a matter of survival and there's no ace up your sleeve dirty enough to justify not taking advantage of it. All this to say- Mickbell's most iconic scene is arguably his short interaction with Kuro here, and it's extremely blatant manipulation. The anime even ups this with the teary eyes and voice acting- the borderline tears followed by a grin shows just how conscious and intensive his manipulating really can get. Again there's a transactional lens he sees relationships through I think- and that plays into Mickbel scamifying his relationships up... Which in the end I do think he feels scummy over. Simply because, chaining someone to you like that is not something you do if you think you're lovable- if you're all that, if you're great and likable and worthy of unconditional love. That man can't believe in that, he can't believe in his life partner of many years choosing to stay if that didn't happen to be his only viable option. Mickbell lives in fear of being abandoned and it's in good part because the world has taught him he's not valuable on his own.

I think Mickbell lives in fear!! And I think that's deeply interesting. Makes sense for someone with such an harsh extreme upbringing as him to be hypervigilant, with food like with money the way he is with the party, he keeps grudges, both in his backstory extra comic and during canon. He lives in fear and distrust and all these little ways he knows toxmake himself feel more powerful than he is. And I think it's so, so interesting how when he finally accepted Kuro following him, inventing something about him becoming his bodyguard, it was because Mickbell just witnessed Kuro kill and maim a man and he was shaking, so afraid but also accustomed enough to violence and needing to bullshit his way through situations to tell Kuro things like "I'm your master" and for Kuro to just go along with it. Mickbell's is the art of faking it till you make it. Mickbell was afraid of Kuro then, and I do think Mickbell was scared of the idea of what this kobold man stranger could do if he decided that Mickbell wasn't his master after all, until his attachment grew and keeping the charade going was less out of a need for Kuro not to hurt him and more out of a need for Kuro not to leave him. So the fear of retribution because he did not know Kuro became a fear of abandonment when he did learn to know and love him- Kuro leaving him alone, the very thing he desired the firt time they met and Kuro followed him after Mickbell freed him. And this is why I made this web weaving about them this makes me ill good god. He lives in fear of being "found out" by Kuro in a way, for this scam of a relationship to be discovered so he only gets tangled up in his manipulation more and more to keep it going as the stakes keep rising and rising because Mickbell is only more invested with time- and he fears that Kuro would realize it one day but he also fears others will expose him, a big part of why he monitors what others say to Kuro, why he wants to be there whenever Kabru talks with him, why he's so scared at the slightest conversation had out of his hearing range. But! Part of it I'd say is also genuine fear that they could take advantage of Kuro, perhaps because due to his own taking advantage of Kuro and how readily the kobold accepts it Mickbell sees Kuro as a particularly vulnerable person, that he could get tricked by anyone, and let's remember that Mickbell met Kuro in a slave trader's cage- Mickbell's fear of others "taking Kuro away from him" is a double edged sword, it's 'them turning Kuro against Mickbell' but it's also what he always says about Kabru or others trying to 'kidnap' Kuro, what he says about how the half-foot guild wouldn't like his bond with Kuro and take him away from Mickbell. He's drunk his own koolaid in many ways. Separation anxiety and abandonment issues!!!!! Distrust at the world and feeling like he can never have nice things or be safe!!! And this plays suuuuuch a role in Mickbell's dream of having a house I think. Because a house is safe- a house means routine, means a place you can stay in and be protected by, is there a more emblematic symbol of stability and safety? In a house Mickbell is shielded from others' gaze and judgement, he's sheltered from the rain and he can keep food inside, he doesn't have to sleep with one eye open to not be attacked or have his things stolen through the night anymore, no there are four walls and it's warm and he and Kuro can live a peaceful life unbothered, away from the rest of the world that seeks them harm and wants them separated. Which hey that could parallel surprisingly deeply Chilchuck's feelings about a house actually, a house and family as something he has but that can be lost and destroyed- both in people leaving and in nightmares of home invasion.

But like Mickbell telling Kuro to stop snarling and growling because it's scary is such a good and fascinating example of this. How much of it is "it scares me" and how much of it is "you're damaging your own reputation, I'm scared of how people will react if you look too beastly and dangerous and what they might do to you- to us"? And this is especially true because Mickbell knows that kobolds are discriminated and how- for these years they've known each other Mickbell has been the one being the middleman between Kuro and the whole world- he's the one securing board and room for the both of them, noticing how people treat them and what they whisper about them, he's the one who gets told "this bathhouse doesn't allow kobolds" and he's the one who decides to leave and visit every bathhouse until they find one who does allow kobolds, becayse he's not taking a bath without Kuro. Mickbell is sticking with Kuro. They are ride or die for EACH OTHER not just oneway. Mickbell washes Kuro, he did that first time after they met each other and Kuro was a ghastly sight and very stinky, and he does now too, Mickbell patiently explains to Kuro how everything works, and when Kuro messes up something like getting Mickbell wet from shaking off water Mickbell gets mad but offers no punishment except chiding. In the bath comic, we see Mickbell spend HOURS brushing Kuro after his bath. There is immense care put into Kuro from Mickbell's end, as well.

"Now you're the cleanest dog in the whole wide world. No one can look down on you."

But hey, where did Mickbell learn "people leave"? That he’s unlovable and no one would stay for him? It’s a common fear that could be from anywhere honestly, whether insecurity alone or a very specific experience- but we do have trails we can follow... Mickbell lived in the slums of Kahka Brud, which he may have been birn in or interestingly enough since Kahka Brud is seen as a city of opportunities might have moved there. First of all, we have to wonder how he got into the streets in the first place. His relatives are listed as "unknown", but well, as a rule of thumb everyone has parents. Not even Kuro has "unknown" listed in his relatives section, and he's had cut contact with them for a long time by canon. What we know about the "relatives" section of Adventurer's Bible profiles is that it only lists living relatives, for example Marcille only has her mother listed, her father isn't listed as deceased and her step-father isn't listed there, meanwhile Kabru only has Milsiril listed, not his mother or even his father (which we don't know the status of, but Kabru doesn't know him either since he left when he was born). So what does this mean for Mickbell's relatives? Either he doesn't know what family he has, or he doesn't know if they're alive. It's not unlike how Kabru's name is stated as unknown, which either means he was renamed Kabru or that Kabru doesn't know just a part of it, like his last name- perhaps forgotten due to trauma, or his mother never told him due to their disowning them.

It could mean he was abandoned on the streets before he could remember so he doesn't know of any parent or caretaker they had, or it could be a lot of things. I do want to point out that both Mickbell and Kuro have "permanently out of contact" with their siblings, but Kuro still has his siblings listed on his profile, not "unknown". Since we get this info I do think Mickbell knew his sister, and I think it all lends itself to the "he doesn't know if they're alive" theory more. I mean, so much could have happened! But I think it's pretty safe to assume that Mickbell and his sister were on the streets together, until they were separated. Due to her messy hair and dead inside look I used to like to think she fell sick and as the older brother it fell on him to take care of both their needs and he couldn't manage to heal her before she died- or they were separated or something happened and he had to assume the worst. But something like some big event making them flee on their separate ways and then fail to see each other again, some other tragedy that made him part from her without knowing of her state... Or my favorite: one day she disappeared. Maybe he told her to stay there while he went to steal some food and he came back and she wasn't there, maybe one night she didn't come back to the alley where they always slept and she never did again, just. Did something happen to her? Was there an accident and she died in some ditch somewhere? Did someone kidnap her? Did she just leave him behind? He doesn't know. He doesn't know and he never will and he can't get an answer. And not having closure is almost worse than suspecting she's dead, or even if he knew it for certain. Because there's always a doubt. There'll always be that he doesn't understand what happened. There'll always remain that knowledge that things can just suddenly disappear one day, it'll be a normal day until it isn't, that people can leave, that everyone he's ever had (and there weren't many) HAVE left they're GONE and he's ALONE, and there'll always be that knowledge that Mickbell couldn't protect his little sister, couldn't even know she was in danger that time, if she was. Again in a way there's that parallel with Chilchuck where Chilchuck is very muh someone worried about the people he cares about's safety and has a protector role the best he can, and Mickbell usually is the one getting protected but he is very possessive and overprotective of Kuro, the one person he has. And just. Waughhhh. Idk if I'll make another post about Mickbell backstory speculation or his sister now if unprompted but for the record I like to call his sister Yukibelle/bella. Yuki because it means snow like deathly pale sickly skin, and it's a 4 letter japanese name, which being 4 letters 2 syllables suits half-foot names aaand most importantly, since Kuro isn't Kuro's real name and it just means "black" in japanese I like to think esp because of the language barrier taht that's just what Mickbell named him. And having no parents imo Mickbell would have named his sister, or even renamed her if she did have a name to spite whoever abandoned them...... In big brother fashion he likes to call her Yuckbelle. Ickybell and Yuckbelle the sublings ever. I was the one who chose your name so I can't make fun of it? Haha try again!........ I need to cope somehow guys. Having lived in the streets with the highest degree of life or death survival on the daily it's also easy to speculate Mickbell had other hardships and trauma like, say, selling his body and to people who are less than ideal. Just saying!! A lot of things you can resdy into his backstory that further explain or explore aspects of his character.

Unlike Chilchuck "I will never fight" Tims, Mickbell actually never fights. Like at all. Ever. His skills are clinging, cowering and getting covered, and giving orders. Both Chilchuck and Mickbell can be both mature and immature, but Chilchuck tends to embody maturity within the narrative and Mickbell is usually much more remembered as immature. Enneagram 6w7 (wants stability and simple pleasures & freedom on the side), same as Chilchuck. 6 is the fear of being without support and that's exactly what Kuro offers..... Very 8 as well, there's a case to be made about him being 683 like Chilchuck but I could see him be more of a 2 or 4 too. God he wants to be loved so bad. He's also quite tall but never mentions a diet to not set off traps, which may be because his diet is already poor. To me he seems like he doesn't care for culture at all having lived in survival on the fringe of society, similarly to him not having much half-foot pride, but he does smile as a dwarf so dwarves being the ideal body type still seems to be something he's in line with.

Post-canon, he opens a variety store with Kuro, and it's said his relationship with Kuro stays unbalanced. We don't know where it was opened, if they stayed in Melini or went back to Kahka Brud- but since Mickbell's dream is to specifically get a house in Kahka Brud's best neighborhoods and it's where he lived before on the streets, it seems to make sense house in Kahka Brud would still be his goal and to set up shop there. Not that we get an update on the house funds, the post-canon blurb is still in the near future after canon so their futures are still very much left open.

Kuro

Please refer to this post to see Kuro's profile pages.

Mickbell is so tragedy coded but Kuro is honestly... Like he's vibing. He has normalized the abuse (emotional manipulation & isolating the target both so that they need you for stability and emotional supoort + control their life and relationships are literally abuse tactics come on guys) but so much so that it appears both to Kuro and to us like that abuse has little grip on him, we see that he has more agency than we'd assumed. Kuro allows Mickbell to lower his quality of life way too much for sure, partly because Mickbell plays the part of vulnerable lil guy well, but what's so funny is that where Mickbell thinks he's being a mastermind all "🥺I was the one to save you from the streets, without me you'd be lost!! Everyone else wants you suffering, better stick with me!!😊" Kuro literally explains their relationship with "he's so pathetic and anxious, he needs me there :(" - which lends a whole new look to how pokerfaced Kuro always is when Mickbell is giving him his manipulative drivel lol. It flips the dynamic Mickbell was presenting because where Mickbell tries so hard to force their relationship to be that Kuro needs him, Kuro correctly identifies that it's Mickbell who needs Kuro- even more than for safety and financial reasons, because of emotional ones. So where it felt like their relationship was one where Kuro was fully tricked in that Kuro can only live by Mickbell's side for his own sake, Kuro wants to stay for Mickbell's sake and is well aware of Mickbell's issues and wants to help as a therapy dog would?? He doesn't care about the money or the food, he cares about Mickbell. The irony of it all is that Kuro could have left anytime, but stayed for Mickbell all along. It's easy then to assume that Kuro has it all figured out after reading the secret study session comic but that's also oversimplifying. Kuro seems emotionally intelligent in many ways- but sort of lacks sense in how it should be applied and how things should be, I guess is how I would put it? I still call their relationship abusive because it still is, Mickbell still isolates Kuro and manipulation is still the intent of a lot of what he says and does with him, and "well I know very well they're shitty but they need me" is a common dynamic irl in abusive and toxic relationships too, but it still reframes their relationship a lot to know that Kuro is not at the stage of "Mickbell is always right about everything and I'll follow him to the ends of the world because of it" but at the "this anxious miserable boy needs me and it's my duty to protect him". Mickbell is running a manipulation onemanshow against himself and Kuro is taking another path entirely, he has an immunity called language barrier lmao. /hj Kuro is hiding things from him Mick has no clue about, that he's having nightly study sessions with Kabru, but he's not hiding this out of a sense of fear but out of care.

Their relationship is based on misunderstandings and lack of communication, and that's due to a lot of things both the language barrier thing and how they tend to run with their own interpretations of things (Mickbell thinking he knows why Kuro stays, Kuro thinking MICKBELL IS A KID WHEN MICK IS OLDER THAN HIM). Kabru himself thinks that when Kuro becomes fluent in common and the two can truly speak together is when they'll really become fruends. It's a hopeful outlook! But it makes sense, because again their relationship is based on miscommunication, Mickbell is afraid Kuro only stays because he has to because Kuro can't reassure him that he cares for Mick, and Kuro only has part of the picture because they can't talk it out, so giving them the tools to truly be able to talk and understand each other fully would completely flip the dynamic. It's truly interesting how they only have each other, but even in their relationship they're both very isolated.

"I don't want to make him anxious if I can help it. He's still a kid, but he's been through a lot of rough stuff. I'd like to be somebody he can feel relaxed around."

So yes, Kuro explicitly thinks of Mickbell as a child he must protect and watch over, care for! He has a more mentor way to talk about it, but it's easy to assume Kuro sees Mickbell as family too. Especially since he has a lot of siblings, many younger! He has a bit of a protective instinct and thinks he should be a protector, simply because Mickbell needs him, not for other more grand or personal reasons. He takes upon himself, both duties and in general for everything, he can't talk with others but that's fine, he's a dungeon diver who gets worked hard and even fights and that's fine by him, he just takes upon himself incessantly, like with Mickbell he sort of shrugs and says it is how it is.

Kuro still thinking of Mickbell as a kid has interesting implications. During the main story Mickbell is 22 and Kuro is 18- how many years could they really have spent together? He left his hometown to see more of the world and was kidnapped at a port, so we could assume he left home after coming of age at 13. He was kidnapped at a port and was part of slave market on the eastern continent, where kobolds are rarer and thus probably more profitable, so it makes sense that he'd have gotten sent to the eastern continent straight away. Just travelling the sea can take a while- the world map makes me think the sea between the western and eastern continent is of Atlantic Sea size, which irl can take a little under a week to travel through at a good pace, but with the lack of navigation technologies compared to today if you're less sure of where to go it can be more around a month. Unlikely for Kuro to have spent all that long in a cage on a boat then, but where it could get messier is once he's on the eastern continent. Mickbell freed Kuro from the guy who was holding him in a cage calling him a demihuman trader rather than an owner, so Kuro wouldn't have gotten sold yet? Or traded between different slave merchants, I wouldn't be surprised if he changed hands a couple times without having been ever sold to a customer really. It's said that the Island has a slave market for example so there seems to be large demand in many places and for it not to be done in secrecy really. But their meeting happens in Kahka Brud let's remember- which is a city with a big economical growth and market & sompopulation due to the dungeon cluster there, so it'd make sense for Kuro to have been sent there straight. Kuro was obviously mistreated, shown to stink and likely starved not unlike Izutsumi's experience caged in a freak show, but he's not bony enough for me to really be able to give a time estimation of neglect and starvation with his looks alone. This is a lot just to say "Well if we assume he left home at 13 and was enslaved soon after leaving home, and the process of getting to Kahka Brud could have taken a month at fastest, he could theoretically known Mickbell since then". During canon they're both on the Island rather than Kahka Brud, but we have nothing to be able to tell when Kuro and Mickbell came to the Island, just that they came together and that he was probably hired when Kabru formed a party 2 years before canon. We can try to compare him with Chilchuck- Canon happens in year 514, but Chilchuck came to the island five years ago, when he formed the half-foot union. Comapring them is relevant because Chilchuck comes from Kahka Brud too, again the place with a cluster of dungeons, so Chilchuck and Mickbell choosing to come to the Island for dungeon diving prospects shows the same attitude that the Kahka Brud dungeons are already all pillaged and overworked and to seek dungeons elsewhere. And who knows, maybe Mickbell didn't really choose to become an adventurer, maybe it was just about fleeing Kahka Brud since that was where he stole and did scams, but dungeon diving does seem to be a desperate man's job in many ways so it makes sense either way. The way Mickbell talks about Chilchuck, I don't get the feeling Mickbell's been on the island for longer/as long as Chilchuck and for longer than the half-foot union's existed, which makes sense if we go by the "maximum 5 years ago" theory of Mickbell and Kuro's meeting. They likely stuck around Kahka Brud for a while before deciding to go for it and move to the Island. So I guess, we can shoot to say that they knew each other for a maximum of five years but a minimum of two? I like to think Kuro spent at least a couple of months enslaved and so I'd put my own estimate at around 3-4 years, which is already a lot if you're them. A looot of time to bond with the only person in your life.

It's a bit odd, usually in a character who's been stolen away from their home a goal of theirs would be to go see their family again, but Kuro never brings up anything like that. Whether that means his homelife wasn't great, or that he feels closure enough just continuing to travel as he wanted, or even that he more or less forgot because of the trauma, who knows truly. You'll notice his stated dream is to travel with Mickbell, which ironically is directly incompatible with Mickbell's dream of settling down and getting a house with Kuro to live in. Since he was kidnapped by slave traders at a port in his original continent, we can surmise Kuro always had a taste for travel. Kuro isn't even his real name, Yodan is! His detachment from his homeland, family and cukture is very interesting. He has no problem just leaving it all behind indifinitely.

So yes Kuro isn't his actual name- so "Kuro", meaning "black" in japanese must have been a nickname given to him, and I bet it was Mickbell. Being a half-foot and a kobold who can't understand each other, the language barrier made Mickbell just start referring to him by the color of his fur. Kuro never mentions his real name so it doesn't seem he particularly cares- which is a wider point about Kuro actually, that he seems to be very laidback and laissez-faire type, unbothered and passive. Things are how they are and he goes along with it. He's not a confrontational person but he also trusts his guts when someone like Izutsumi feels off. He never questions Mickbell. When Kabru inquires about him and Mickbell, Kuro goes "oh don't worry about it it's nothing tbh". Which is also in line with how it's stated Kuro doesn't give a rat's ass about honor or wealth, he doesn't really seem to have a moral compass as much as "Mickbell is what matters to me so only what Mickbell wants and thinks matters", he follows Mickbell's orders with blind devotion when it comes to work or what they decide to do with their lives and that's just well with him. This reminds me of Falin a lot, the way I perceive them. Just utter devotion to their loved ones without really caring for what's morally right or wrong- because love is the priority and loved ones' wellbeing and happiness are all that truly matter, and sacrificing themselves and their own agency to make that happen. Kuro overlooks his own needs because he prioritizes others', Mickbell's. I think his views on relationships and what’s normal are very skewed. That said, Kabru calls Kuro overprotective too, and I think Kuro can be very stubborn as well, and as we see with the comic where Kabru and him talk about Izutsumi's smell he's perfectly able to have strong opinions, he's not only the stoic type. Kuro's very coddling with Mickbell, and while I do think he's a nice guy I definitely think Mickbell is an exception where that's pushed to the extreme for Kuro, Kuro's fixated on Mickbell just as much as Mickbell is fixated on Kuro. Codependence has never been truer a word gdbdgd. Kuro is rather polite and conscientious, in a regular conversation you'd think he very well-adjusted, he's smart and very observant, not just aided by his nose but with how aptly he notices psychological aspects of Mickbell for example, he's eager to learn and hardworking.

Kuro's biggest interest and dream is referred to be travelling, he left home to do just that before he was ever kidnapped already so it's not even an acquired taste from being encaged. And that fits well with Kuro just following the flow imo, Kuro's wants like Mickbell are small pleasures in life like that, just walking around and seeing new sights... Mickbell wants food and a roof over his head and Kuro wants food and freedom. Ironically, their wishes are directly contradictory- Mickbell wants to live in a house with Kuro and Kuro wants to travel around with Mickbell, Mickbell even has his dream of a specific neighborhood. But it is very notable that both their dreams mention the other, whatever it is they end up doing they want to do it together. Post-canon, he opens a variety store with Kuro, and it's said his relationship with Kuro stays unbalanced. We don't know where it was opened, if they stayed in Melini or went back to Kahka Brud- but since Mickbell's dream is to specifically get a house in Kahka Brud's best neighborhoods and it's where he lived before on the streets, it seems to make sense house in Kahka Brud would still be his goal and to set up shop there. Not that we get an update on the house funds, the post-canon blurb is still in the near future after canon so their futures are still very much left open. Just wait until Kuro learns common...! That'll solve everything........!

I tried to go extensively into his parallels with Toshiro and Izutsumi here. Hmm 7w6? Noo 7w8 actually god... Too real... Get me out of here the Mickbell and Kuro double whammy is making me need a smoke. Soooo many characters in Dunmeshi have this theme of learning to live for yourself be comfortable in your skin and get in touch with your needs and desires more Kuro!!

Relationships

: Overlook

Ok THIS is the fun part. So I made this chart as sort of a summary- we'll especially be looking at the personal bonds and work besties relationships through sections, but that's not to say those dynamics are the only things going on. I tried to keep only the basics and essentials, but you could also totally have added a Kuro to Kabru arrow mentioning how Kabru is teaching him common, or one from Mickbell to Holm about how Mickbell crashes at Holm's place occasioanllu. I made the purple lines based on what we see in canon, but it’s totally possible that Rin also judges Mickbell and Kuro, and that Holm and Dia judge Kabru & Rin as well, even though I don’t really think so, not particularly.

And that's what I’m getting at here: their party has a lot hanging in the air that everyone is more or less aware of but don’t truly acknowledge aloud, don't speak about or resolve. Holm and Dia needle Mickbell about his treatment of Kuro but don’t actually do anything or push, Kabru tries to help by teaching Kuro common but seems to be content "meddling" in only small subtle ways over time like that doing just what he can, concludes that the relationship mess goes bot hways and decide to just keep an eye on it quietly, meanwhile Mickbell seems tired of seeing Rin and Kabru bicker over her crush when Kabru teases and they argue, but doesn’t think to have a tal kabout whatever the fuck it is they have going on- it’s routine, it’s just how things are. It's commonplace- so their serious accusations about Mickbell are mentioned a grand total of twice and that's that, and only Mickbell out of everyone acknowledges aloud that Rin and Kabru have a weird thing going on and that Rin is weirdly deoted to Kabru/loves him implicitly. Everyone is much more ready to comment on Kuro & Mickbell than Rin & Kabru- which, absolutely deserved yes, but are what Kabru and Rin have not intensely weird behavior. Would you not get a headache trying to understand what's going on there and listening to their flirting and scolding and arguments on the regular. Do they never get "this needs to stop"? No, only Mickbell? Okay

Made this lil collage above but it's notable that the whole party throws casual jabs at Kabru all the time also, whether about how he can't take care of himself or how obsessed or weird he can be. Although everyone has respect and trust for kabru, they're also all fairly comfortable criticizing him. We see this in the shapeshifter "what if" comic too- his party members often find KAbru too extreme and overly dedicated, but ultimately trust him and follow his lead. Dia keeps her nose out of things but beyond hater duo Mickbell & Rin, even Holm comments regularly on his people pleasing and bad cleaning and organisation habits. Paralleling the Laios hater duo of Marcille and Chilchuck in the main party, Rin and Mickbell are especially critical and harsh on Kabru, here's a short and incomplete compilation to illustrate the point. Do they do fuckall about it though? No not really.

Everyone at some point or other shows concern for Kuro, it shows they don’t default to treating him as furniture or a tool after a long time of working together, they value him, but there’s always a third party barrier through which they have to interact, Mickbell- except for Kabru who can communicate with him on Kuro's own territory and have alone time with. But no one except Kabru and Mickbell even try to talk to/with Kuro, and you could also easily argue Kuro is not fully humanized, there's how no one except Mickbell worried for Kuro here for example.

I want you to imagine being Dia or Holm. I want you to imagine what it must take for there to be not one but two insane dynamics in your party amongst your coworkers, with who your job is so to camp with for weeks at a time, and not even blink at it anymore. I want you to imagine being kind and queen of staying in your lane and having these two obvious codependent situationships amongst your coworkers and just go "if I don't acknowledge this things are gonna go more smoothly". Save them get them out of there. Just the occasional long suffering sigh and "Mickbell that's not right :/" and yes, your job here is done.

You really start seeing this pattern looking closer where their party are fraught with interpersonal drama. The will-they-won't-they casanova leader & his angry tsundere childhood friend and Mickbell and his "employee" he exploits and isolates from the wider world??????? Truth of their relationship aside as we've discussed, this is how people around them perceive their dynamics and the optics are insane (/negative hello). The true doom of Kabru's party is all this interpersonal drama going on??? The very thing Chilchuck fears about parties lol, HOW has this party not imploded on itself yet. And personally I think that's a good part of what they contrast with the main party about- Where Kabru's party failed, Laios' party succeeded because they talked their differences out, they challenged each other on topics they disagree on and argued, instead of always just brushing everything under the rug. The reason canon happens at all is becase under the emergency of the situation Laios decides to be vulnerable and come clean about his interest in monster cuisine after all, and yes judgement and racism is rampant at first, but they reach an understanding through open communication. Meanwile, Kabru's party doing social 8d chess.......... Just keep on making passive aggressive comments forever see where it gets you.

This party also has a running theme with unabalanced and onesided relationships, and emotional dependence/burdening. It feels weird for it to be so weirdly intricately developed and consistent even though it does nothing in the main story- except for strengthening the whole diverse living cast thing which is important to the lesson and theme of people coming together despite differences is good, and like, "you can't judge others' relationships and sitations without knowing them" you know, but. It's here man it's here and present and too loud for me to unsee. Rin is dependent on Kabru and there's an argument to be made about the reverse being true as well even if Kabru is emotionally unavailable, and then there's the codependent Mickbell & Kuro mess, and even Dia and her fiance are faced with some unbalanced relationship and emotional unavailability. So our lineup is kabrin, mickuro, Dia & fiance and Holm who has a barely breathing social life. I suppose the latter's not uncommn though, the same can be said with most of Laios' party including Namari and Toshiro.... But good lord. This combined with how Dia & Holm get along together the best does make the party dynamic really funny though in a vacuum, everyone's going razy with intense tea meanwhile Dia and Holm the quiet judgers who glance at each other like do you see this shit. You are the only one normal here. (One has researched illegal magic and the other grew up in a cult.)

To me it's also really interesting Kabru hiring Mickbell and Kuro especially. Kabru is someone who works off reputation a lot, he has his homegrown informant web called gossip buddies and whatnot, and we know that while he's willing to go to questionable lengths for his beliefs, he has a pretty strong sense of right and wrong where stealing from people who ripped you off and repeatedly led you to death was a no-no. With all the shit Mickbell is catching even now about his slave- ehem, business partner, I doubt Mickbell would have seemed anywhere squeaky clean. Kabru hired a pretty blatant morally loose person who has stolen and scammed- and I think that's very interesting. Was Kabru desperate for party members? Maybe with Dia and Holm, believing in his cause was important-? No no, it's more likely the other way around- only desperate adventurers (or the ones who specifically want Kabru as their party member) stick to being in his party, with all the failures it experiences. Mickbell and Kuro are the only on who don't express loyalty to Kabru, so maybe Kabru's party was the only party willing to hire him- especially if he and Kuro are a package deal where they both get paid. And there's how Mickbell isn't affiliated with the half-foot guild too! Which means no work protections for him but also no salary cut? But yes yes, especially with the way he treated the corpse retrievers you'd think he wouldn't want anyone shifty on his side, but there's also the side of Kabru that loves to help others out, both on a societal and an interpersonal level- and I like to think that despite Mickbell obviously being from a rougher crowd he not only saw the two of them for the skilled people they are but also just, saw they were in a tough spot and wanted to offer a chance y'know? I had a convo about that once where I asked my Kabru expert friend what they thought about Kabru's grasp on socioeconomics and helping out people who are in tough situations for circumstances beyond their control, because you'd think Kabru would be understanding but then with the corpse retrievers, who seem Not Well Off and are comprised by many mixed races individuals like a half-dwarf and a half-gnome........ Helki and Mickbell are alike in many ways and it's interesting to think that may have played a part... Kabru seeing this disheveled obviously sketchy down on his luck Mickbell and being reminded of the only father figure he's ever had in his life, another blonde smartass with a ponytail, an ex-convict from a rough criminal background… And wanting to hire him to help him have a chance to get out of that place lowkey... I'M JUST SPITBALLING!!!!

Anyways so getting back to the crux of the matter, this is how the party naturally divides up with each other, the same kind of way Laios & Senshi and Marcille & Chilchuck did especially early on.

But the interesting thing is that Kabru keeps everyone at a distance, Rin included, so how does it divide up when Kabru and Rin aren’t interacting? She stays alone? Nope, oddly enough she seems to gravitate towards Mickbell. And the reverse is true- which makes sense since his partner isn’t a good conversationalist. Mickbell doesn’t really see Kuro as an equal, Kuro is his beloved fool he's tricking on the daily in his mind after all, so he doesn't seek out Kuro for opinions, because unlike Rin Kuro isn't a peer. In the page on the right notice the second panel, everyone gives each other a silent glance and this summarizes the dynamics here really well. Kabru is telling his plan of keeping going and this is everyone's moment to agree or disagree. Holm and Dia look to each other, more neutral. Rin and Mickbell look to each other, seeming more displeased, and Kuro looks to Mickbell. In that second of gauging each other's feelings through a glance, their resolve and opinion gets steeled and everyone tells their feelings after, Mickbell and Rin more reluctant. On the left you can see who sits next to who, who walks next to who in the party formation- Rin is always right next to KAbru but Mickbell is at her side, with Holm following without attracting much attention to himself and Daya closing the group on the lookout for threats. Mickbell & Kuro and Rin & Kabru as actual friends impotant in each other's lives tend to duo up, meanwhile Dia & Holm and Mickbell & Rin are more like "each other's favorite coworker" than actual friends, so Holm and Dia don't even necessarily stick together, at the risk of being third wheels. In fact the christmas gift exchange is a good character writing moment with everyone, if you want to look at their gifts and reactions.

So yes this explains how I divided up the chart, the duos are Rin & Kabru bond, Mickbell & Kuro bond, Mickbell & Rin coworker besties, Dia & Holm coworker besties.

Rin & Kabru

I made a rather in depth post on their relationship recently, specifically trying to nail down whether or not Kabru could have/had romantic or ambiguous feelings for her beyond/instead of "big sister":

It's a good look at it that covers most of the matter and has much, much more pictures than I could otherwise put here, so I'm allowing myself to go over this section faster here and summarize things.

Their relationship is obviously very onesided and... Needy, for a lack of a better word, because Rin is clingy and Kabru is probably her one friend in her life currently- but it's always been that way anyways hasn't it, did she have anyone else at the elves' too, did she have any in the village she grew up in that hated her family so much they killed them? She's overbearing and hovers over his shoulder for mistakes when they're together, but her reason for doing so is out of worry for Kabru, that because of his ambitious and self-neglectful tendencies he'll get himself into trouble, and she's not wrong about that! Kabru holds himself on his own currently, but it's not hard to see a future where he slowly descends into neglecting himself more and more in his focus on his work, but no currently he's still able to endear his landlord into cleaning his room for him and to put himself to sleep with alcohol. The relationship is onesided because Rin's always the one pushing and Kabru never truly opens up, but their relationship does have push and pull too- Kabru does pull sometimes. It isn't like Kuro simply passively enabling Mickbell's issues and bad behaviors, but in many ways encouraging them. Kabru flirts with her. He jokes and he teases in ways that come dangerously close to acknowledging aloud she has feelings for it, and never turning her down despite it being clear to us he has no intent on ever reciprocating them- He leads her on, whatever his intent is. And I go into possibilities of how and why in the separate post a lot, but overall I'd say that it's because he does need her back in a way too. It's that repressed desire for connection that rears its head with Laios and even Mithrun too. Maybe they're an ill-fitting match, but it's what he has, the friend he's had for the longest- Like I like to say, seeing Rin as his best friend is so sad and tragic but it’s also not wrong. From what we see she’s the closest to him, which is sad to think about. How can a guy’s social life be so thriving yet down in the dumps truly. She completely relies on him for purpose in her state in canon and dumps her emotions and issues on him, but he does play with her back and avoids his emotions and needs through her too. He has the uer hand in their dynamic, was even the one to ask Rin to come along with him when they left the elven kingdom. She's a fixture in his life, she's a safety net, she's someone who'll love him unconditionally, who even if he mistreats her a bit he knows she'll stick with him. He sees her as a big sister, after all. He knows her tough love is love. Does he give her jokes to latch onto as his way to keep her in check, or to make sure she'll want to keep following him? He can't bear to bare himself to anyone, but if it's Rin, she knows infinitely well how Kabru isn't perfect, constantly reminds him of that, and where in every other relationship he tries to be or has people believing he is perfect, with her he can be a little rotten, a little inconsiderate- and idk idk man. I don't think there's really a conclusion we can get to with them, but a lot of their dynamic feels just very. Mutually unhealthy. Like self-harm almost.

And like, look at the picture of them dancing below! Just it alone implies a dynamic already. They balance each other out somewhat, because they're severe about different things, Kabru encourages her to let loose socially but Rin keeps him from getting too full of himself in his own corner, because she always keeps calling out to him specifically, to the Kabru she knows and that he knows she knows- though maybe doubts sometimes. They both keep each other from being too caught up in themselves- but both of them are also frowning here. They also enable each other in very bad ways imo and inadvertently push each other into their bad habits, nagging Kabru makes him retreat into his shell even more and approach their relationship calculatingly or even coldly knowing of her feelings for him, and getting all the attention from Kabru in a way she doesn't want- because she can tell he still has his walls up- makes her more frustrated and it's all just a bad cycle of feeding each other to continue just as the status quo is. Rin nags him so Kabru throws her a bone so Rin nags him etc. But they're also genuinely dear to each other, maybe more iut of memories than because of the present, so they can't really let go of each other. Fucking doom tango fr

My take on Rin being particularly severe on Kabru, beyond just being worried that any mistake has a dangerous cost for people like them, is that like. She knows Kabru, from way back, and she sees his persona, how he tries to be perfect for others and caters to everyone's needs except his own, how he keeps himself hidden like that. And she doesn't wang Kabru the persona, just Kabru the person, the man she loves- and he's trying to be perfect but it's futile, and it just makes him more cardboard cutout, he's being fake and it just makes her so angry how he keeps his distance with her, so at every turn she tells him when he's not perfect, at every turn she reminds him of his flaws, as if to say, "you can't be perfect, just stop". And every flirt he sends her way during the story makes her madder because again she knows it's just empty air to toy with her, so she scolds harder. Like I don't think she's a self-aware person in general, so I think she mostly just feels this as sadness completely masked with anger that drives her foward and makes her impulsively say things, and she thinks what she says is right and she's being righteous, but also there's just this gaping void in her at the state of things, there's frustration whenever she sees Kabru smile a plastic smile at others all the time, and she doesn't know why. And the only worse thing is to have that plastic smile targeted at her- but it makes whenever he offers her more genuine unprompted attention all the more precious, like in the comic about her smiling.

They kept in touch post-canon! But it seems inevitable to me that the change in their lives made them grow a bit more distant, not working together all the time anymore. Rin figures Kabru is being taken care of by now, being a part of the royal court, and goes to pursue her own ventures, but they're still friends and that shows with Kabru inviting her to the castle. Rin can't help herself but to visit him once in a while to see if he's still breathing I bet- I do think she has a bit of a "only I don't get fooled by you (especially when you say you're fine)" way to think about him and their rekationship, a big of why she'd say the "Don't think everyone's going to fall for you". Anyways, it is fun to theorize Rin might be a pharmacist often hired by the castle hehe, but yes yes that's all we get info wise. Here's to hoping she mellows out some

Mickbell & Kuro

So, their relationship is more messed up than Kabru and Rin's, but it's less up in the air/free grounds for interpretation, much more directly explained. Their character profiles & extra pages alone give a really good look at their relationship and both their perspectives of it: Kuro's family that Mickbell has to find ways to chain to himself or he feels insecure, Mickbell to Kuro is a vulnerable kid that he chooses to look after and go the extra mile of being mindful & considerate of said insecurities. I already talked about it a lot in the Mickbell & Kuro sections, and the post I linked above has a longer but more compact analysis of them- but yes yes I'll still cover the essential and the new here. I said it earlier but Mickbell needs Kuro more than Kuro needs Mickbell- Kuro is like the entirety of Mickbell's emotional regulation 'skills' lol, where Kuro needs Mickbell in a material sense where Kuro wouldn't be able to communicate well with others or go far without money and Mickbell, Mickbell needs Kuro because otherwise he'd be shattered- not to say that Kuro isn't also very useful to have around for his muscles. Both of them are very physically and mentally vunerable both, the pyramid of maslow is not being met on any level eesh. Kuro needs a compass and Mickbell needs an anchor, both of them needed a purpose in the day to day life of survival and both chose each other for that- protect Mickbell, and buy a house with Kuro. The human mind thrives off of goals, desires. Again this thing with compass & anchor is very reminiscent of Falin with Kuro, the way she centered her life around others, so much so that when she was a mentally compromised chimera she defaulted to that way of being with Thistle. But they're in that spot very similar to them where one is especially very mentally vulnerable and easy to control whereas the other is very physically vulnerable if the other were to decide they've had enough and go murder mode on him. It's the dog loving the chain on its collar.

How long have they known each other? Who knows, but I estimated it between 2 to 5 years, between when Kuro became an adult and when Kabru formed a party- but even those are just guesses. I also think he named Kuro, since Kuro's name is actually Yodan and "kuro" simply means "black" in japanese, with the language barrier Mickbell wouldhave just started nicknaming him by the color of his fur.

It’s important to remember how they started: Mickbell saving Kuro and Kuro saving Mickbell, Mickbell freeing Kuro out of spite which made Kuro follow him and then Kuro saving Mickbell by maiming the guy who had kept him in a cage and was threatening Mickbell, prompting Mickbell to suggest hiring him (while being broke) as a bodyguard, half out of fear half out of seizing opportunities? And we'll get to that but this is a good way to understand why they're both so "It's us vs the world", they both came from a similar situation surviving in the slums together but even before that they had the same man for enemy, Mick helped Kuro out and Kuro helped Mick out in turn, and they stuck together. So that’s the origins of Kuro being "his employee" that he’s working for peanuts, it’s less disingenuous and eager than we’d expect, the attachment Mickbell formed to Kuro was over time, eventually associating Kuro with both safety and companionship. Meanwhile Kuro seemed ride or die very early, being saved helped I’m sure, but remembering that Kuro thinks of Mickbell as a child to protect also helps frame why Kuro would be so ready to devote himself to guarding him- seeing a small vulnerable "kid" in all this danger, constantly surrounded by threats and famine. So in the end, a big factor for their relationship is that they can’t communicate for shit. For several reasons including language barrier, overly controlling and dehumanizing behavior/abuse tactics backfiring- and emotional constipation. They both have preconceived notions and they both just.... Don't really know each other. I don't think Mickbell even knows his name- Kuro thinks he's a kid! They don't know each other, but they also know each other in the way of familiarity, in the form of having spent years inseparable glued to each other. Mickbell doesn't know Kuro's name and Kuro doesn't know Kuro's age, they don't know the other have siblings they have cut contact with and they don't know each other's dreams, they've never had an actual conversation especially on equal grounds, but also they know each other's mannerisms. They know each other's favorite foods. They know the sound of each other laughing and crying and the feeling of each other's warmth. They know each other but they also don't know each other at all!!!!! Crazy crazyyyy dynamic.

The "it's us vs the world" is so so strong with them especially from Mickbell's end, and can you blame him? Can you blame him when he's been kicked down like a dog all his life and he sees that in Kuro too? And perhaps no one else can ever understand Mickbell and know and stay with him like Kuro does, even when they can't even have actual conversations. This is it for Mickbell, Kuro is all he'll ever get in his mind and he's intent on never letting go, he's all he'll ever get and us all he wants and he cannot, will not, ever, let him go.

And the whole snarling-growling thing is very interesting too, especially since that's contrasted with Kabru (scroll down here for pictures). Mickbell has little experience with kobolds beside Kuro but also his first impression of Kuro was seeing him bite and maim a man to death. Kabru has experience with kobolds from his homeland where they're seen as more serious threat than cute doggy people, where there was fighting and rumors and presumably contact too since Kabru learned some of kobold language and he was only 6, AND Kabru has trauma with monsters and beasts in general. When Kuro growls, Mickbell goes "hey I told you to stop growling that's scary :/", and Kabru goes "Kuro, what's wrong?". And this is sooo so fascinating to me. Part of this already is again the language barrier, Kabru can ask Kuro to comfortably explain the issue where Mick cannot (he could still try though since Kuro can still speak some albeit broken common), so with Mickbell Kuro only has body language that doesn't come naturally to non-kobolds to communicate with- but Mickbell dismisses it as regularly as he doesn't. Part of it for Mickbell is having been on the other side of Kuro when angry, having seen how scary he can be and afraid himself- but then why? Does Mickbell still get scared of Kuro when he snarls and acts like that, the way a lot of us flinch when someone gets mad and yells? Does Kuro feel more unpredictable then, and that's scary for many reasons? Or maybe it's because he's scared of the way others see Kuro, that others will dehumanize Kuro if he emotes in ways like this. From where they come living on the streets, looking wrong at the wrong guy can cost a lot, so Mickbell may have extra developed a sense of keeping your head down at the right times and not provoking when risky- and he can't fully control Kuro so when that choice is out of his hands things feel a lot more shaky. Of course though in any case, growling or no growling Mickbell sticks with Kuro, keeps holding onto him when he snarls, it never crosses his mind to step away from Kuro or leave him behind, consequences or uncertainty be damned. Just, the justified concern mixing with the unhealthy possessiveness and controlling, the genuine fear... It represents their wider relationship pretty well in just one example.

He fucking sticks with Kuro with the baths!! Many bathhouses don't accept kobolds but Mickbell tirelessly keeps looking for one who will, Mickbell and Kuro are a PACKAGE DEAL and it stays that way even when it's inconvenient for Mickbell. Mickbell washes Kuro and spends hours brushing him afterwards with immense care and patience, there's effort there on his end too there is consideration and love!! They are sooooo ride or die!!!! "Now you're the cleanest dog in the whole wild world, no one can look down on you"!!!!!!

They have incompatible dreams of the future, Mickbell wants to settle down in a house and Kuro wants to travel, both want to do it together. My thing with Mick & Kuro post-canon is the only ways I see it develop and go down is: 1) Kuro becomes able to easily converse with him and their relationship changes with a lot of rough bumps but slowly and surely towards something better and/or 2) Kuro leaves to travel here and there while Mick manages the house, they’re still in a life partnership but they’re ok being apart for a while now. Mickbell learns that leaving doesn’t mean there’s no coming back and to live beyond each other ykyk <3 But while Kabru himself is hopeful that when Kuro becomes fluent in common Mickbell and Kuro can "really become friends", their post-canon blurbs break our hopes for a near future resolution, specifying that Mickbell "still works Kuro hard". They open a variety store together! I like to call it Mick & Kuro's knick knacks <3 Does Mickbell still keep his prices and product descriptions dangerously close to being scammy? Possible! He's earned it though he has his own store brooo his own building his own business... I know that shit got him emotional We do see that Kuro gets him to be healthier slowly but surely though- in the last chapters we see him push Mickbell implicitly towards the half-foot guild! Kuro is protective but not possessive and he encourages Mickbell to get out of his shell, reflecting how he talks about Mickbell as someone needing support and gentle care & understanding- he was being real about noticing his issues and wanting him to become happier.

Once upon a time back in my early days of shipping mickrin I entertained the thought Mickbell's attachment to Mickbell may have a romantic nature mixed in as well, whether it'd be "genuine" or maladaptive's too complex for me to say- but what was funny is that even in that case to me nothing changed. I think that in a world where Mickbell likes Kuro romantically, he would neverrr ever make a move because he'd be too terrified Kuro would dislike it and leave- so instead it just gets lashed out in different ways and he vents & seeks that out in other people kinda hoping it'd be Kuro or whatever. Kuro's too precious to risk is the thing. "It's us vs the world" and if Kuro leaves then is when he would be truly alone- like I mention in the Mickbell & Kuro I linked I think Mickbell is very afraid of change. It's why I think the possible future of Kuro learning to talk common well would be rockier than we'd assume at first- and I think in that fear of change is the fear of changing the nature of their relationship and lowkey even the fear of deepening it- What if Kuro starts actually understanding what Mickbell always says and decides Mickbell is stupid and unlikable after all? What if Kuro starts talking and Mickbell doesn't like what he says? What would Mickbell do if Kuro started being more inquisitive, asking more questions and requesting more things? Mickbell is terrified of Kuro having agency and it's for a reason!! Mickbell lowkey dehumanizes Kuro as a possession sometimes because that's less scary, because Kuro being a full person with his own wants and thoughts detached from Mickbell is scary!!

Mickbell needs to be Kuro's whole world- because if Kuro got a taste of the rest of the world, everything else there is beside him- beyond him-, then how could Mickbell possibly compete with that? How could Kuro choose Mickbell over the world? And the irony of it all the thing that gets me choked up is that along it was never a competition, the world has always been Kuro's love, travelling is his main interest, and he wants to travel it with Mickbell- The world is wonderful and Mickbell's presence doesn't take away from it but enriches it, makes the world even more valuable and treasured and life more enjoyable and full and god. God!!!!!

So yes these are insane coworkers to have and this is the dynamic that has Dia and Holm side-eye Mickbell and ask him when he's planning to free his house elf. Imagine having a group project in school and these dudes are in your group.

Rin & Mickbell

The hater duo, no 1!!!! Dia & Holm is the second one but they can't hope to match these two's intensity and hater aura. This is our moment to breathe we're getting back into Kuro & Mickbell madnedd after

I compile their most relevant interactions here, and you can also see a small compilation of them combining their hater powers on Kabru here. There'S a lot of things that make them really fun to pair up, like how they're easily the top 2 most unpleasant bitter Kabru party members and how they like each other best anyways lol, or how they're both in a codependent situationship- and they both have similar defense mechanisms of most things getting filtered through anger, but what's especially interesting is how they're different in the worst way, in Rin's codependent relationship she's the one who gives and devotes herself, the self-sacrificial one, and in Mickbell's codependent relationship he's the one who takes and takes, the self-centered one.

That's already me getting lost in the sauce though because these two are just coworkers and that ends there- in fact with the tavern comic about Rin smiling we see that they get along much more at work than outside of it. I think why they get along is exactly that blunt and critical nature of theirs- Neither hesitate or bother with politeness or little games to say what they have on their mind and when something's a bad idea- it's why with even just a "you see this shit?" glance at each other they get steeled and soothed into reluctantly agreeing with Kabru, "Well, if Mickbell/Rin is okay going along with Kabru's plan, it must be fine after all... Not that we won't shoot him with laser beams with our eyes". Like I said earlier even though Mickbell can be manipulative, but he emotes very strongly and openly and is very blunt as a rule, he seems to value in others the same type of directness that he has with emoting and interacting, as seen with his distaste for Rin being a tsundere in the same tavern comic. You could reach and theorize his distaste in Rin acting all happy because Kabru complimented her, despite her still being very sour, is also from a feeling that she's being easily manipulated, which could be interesting... But yes yes, and similarly Rin is drawn towards someone who is similarly severe with high standards and who's very cautious with plans and money, and with her distaste for Kabru's own playing around and fake politeness it's interesting to think she'd find someone who's authentic to the point of being unabashedly unpleasant refreshing. So yes yes, they're united in haterism, and they look to each other for opinions, and they sit together, and when they meet Laios' party with Toshiro's Mickbell tugs on her (the only other who took a hard stance on wanting the "thieves" to pay) dress to go "hey you see these bastards?", and when Rin casts waterwalk on the party it feels very familiar- which shows still how much familiarity the party has developed together. They don't get together to have a laugh or have fun, but they seem to be each other's favorite coworker and be often on the same wavelength, easily understand each other's thoughts from even just a glance.

You can feasibly theorize Mickbell has a crush on Rin and is jealous of Kabru for it, considering he's always hanging around Rin when it isn't Kuro, how he hangs onto her on the regular, when he sighs seeing Rin and Kabru argue because Kabru flirted, when he's always on Kabru's case, when he's the only one who brings up Rin & Kabru's relationship, when he gets frustrated she doesn't laugh at his jokes and says she woud be much cuter and more charming if she smiled more- which we see Mickbell beam at. Misogynistic energy? Yes. No one said Mickbell hasn't some incel tendencies in him lol. I don't think that's the intent though and all these things can be easily explained by other stuff, but all of these together make it a coherent angle, if you so wish for it. Mickbell lashing out at those he likes because he's insecure when he doesn't have their full attention who'd have thunk! The mickrin manifesto is coming another dayyyy though I can't get more sidetracked

Kuro & Kabru

I already went into some things a bit like Kabru's reaction to Kuro growling despite his trauma wit hbeasts and experience with kobolds' nastier side, and I have a post where I let myself ramble about the two of them here- I'm sorryyyyy I'm sorry everything is so interconnected I can't not repeat myself and link stuff!! But once again I'll cover the bases here- In a non shippy light but also the original post is 90% parallels and analysis too

So their relationship is really interesting in many many ways. Kabru is teaching Kuro to speak and write common in secret, which shows many things already. In the party he's by far the most considerate and caring of Kuro, we see him listen to Kuro's worries about Izutsumi also. We see him ask Kuro about his opinions, for Kuro that's revolutionary, we see him take Kuro's concerns seriously and extensively talk about them and he accommodates with talking kobold as well. For being the one with monster & demihuman trauma, he's the one who humanizes Kuro the most- perhaps because it forces him to take Kuro seriously and keep in mind the whole of him, not only appearances or behavior, in an hypervigilance and "I know what you are" way, if that makes sense?? We see Kabru's urge to spend time to give a voice to the voiceless, to help this one dude, his coworker living in questionable circumstances. And all of this, again, despite his trauma, despite him saying it's best to assume communication with demihumans is impossible in the kobold extra!!! Do see the irony!! And many say that Kabru only said that because it was the Touden siblings and he wanted to say anything to make them think twice about blindly approaching the "cool cute desert dog people", but even if that's fully the case I still think it's interesting that he'd be willing to throw demihumans he spent his early childhood coexisting with under the bus like that- in a way.

He's giving Kuro knowledge... Teaching him like Milsiril once did- the thing he himself most grateful to her for. From one disempowered person to the other he's teaching societal survival skills. He's tutoring Kuro on his own best weapon: words. And he does this in secret, with no laurels and no reward, at night on the regular. I think their dynamic really goes to show just how much Kabru cares about others, how even though he sees Kuro as more "photorealistic" and less cartoony than the others, both because he knows the dangers of kobols and he takes them more seriously- and inadvertently emphasing on the beastly animal side taking away the endearing exaggerated features..... Even then, he's so so very considerate, and kind, and he cares, and how much he wants the world to be better and equal and for everyone to live well. And this shows in how the nightly sessions are also a way he gets to interact with Kuro away from Mickbell's eyes- This is where Kabru inquires about their relationship and learns about Kuro's vision of things. Whenever Mickbell steps in Kabru immediately folds, makes himself as non-threatening and unimposing to Mickbell as possible and steps away without resistance to ease his worries, but when he's away Kabru and Kuro can actually talk. And Kuro does open up to him, and hearing his thoughts Kabru learns about them andconcludes that both of them are overprotective over the other- He sees that the issue and the overattachment isn't oneway, and acts in kind. Kabru keeps an eye on them, as seen also with the end of the extra about Izutsumi's scent, helping in the ways he can, subtly through acts like helping Kuro learn common so one day he and Mickbell may talk.

Kabru is likely the closest thing to a friend Kuro has currently, beyond Mickbell. Which is crazy to think about!! But also man I want you to imagine them having their late night study sessions, talking about their home the western continent together for a bit. Kabru gets to talk about the desserts he couldn't talk about in the elven kingdom and Kuro recognizes them, in just talking about the weather they find so much commonplace, in traditions and myths and habits and ways to be- And maybe from where he's from Kuro's heard of the evil eye as well, knows that tallmen with blue eyes are rare and seen as bad omens, disowned and chased out of cities, but Kuro offers no judgement and so Kabru offers none in return. Like their arrows towards each other are "kobold" from Kabru to Kuro and "he speaks my language", and that's so crazy!!!! That's so little but that's so crazy!! And I truly cannot handle typing these thoughts again so just scroll down here but my god my god!! The heartwrenching isolation of them.

Ah yes- there's also something to say about how only he and Mickbell don't follow Kabru with any solid sense of loyalty! Everyone else praises Kabru's cause and says they're there for him to achieve it, but Mickbell stays quiet on that lol and almost walks out at one point- and then Kuro very straightforwardly says that he'll follow Mickbell whatever he decides- As much as Mickbell is Kuro's "employer" Mickbell is Kuro's leader, Kabru might be the team coordinator in his eyes and he does respect him, but the only cemented in loyalty he has is to Mickbell. Ironically, he's also the one who rates him as a party leader best! At a high 95% score. Which still shows just how much Kuro likes and respects Kabru... And also might show how low his standards are, since the party keeps dying under his lead- Kuro hasn't had great impressions of bosses and workers' rights after all- like with people's behaviors and living conditions and whatnot he has bare minimums standards, a very low bar, like him thinking of Kabru as "The guy who speaks my language!" something that should be so normal, being able to communicate with someone in a language you're comfortable and fluent in, has become something exceptional and precious.

Kabru & Mickbell

Okay this one is sooo interestingly layered. So there's a lot that goes into Mickbell's onesided beef with Kabru- I can try to summarize it as that Kabru seems effortlessly charismatic.

Part of it is as Mickbell puts it here and here, that he's afraid Kabru will steal Kuro away somehow (and that's without knowing about their study sessions). Kabru is so charismatic and likable, and kind something that as we se Mickbell tends to approach with suspicion- nothing in this world's free. Believing that Kuro only stays with Mickbell because he has to and that Mickbell successfully fools him, it's not hard to see him being afraid of Kabru "telling Kuro stuff" that'll convince Kuro or turn him against Mickbell, "he's a smooth talker, don't let him kidnap you"! It's again that belief that Kuro is easily fooled mixed with Mickbell's belief that no one could choose him over others if they had option- who wouldn't go for the cool and handsome charismatic witty tallman? Even his fave coworker who's just as severe as him is all wrapped up around his finger after all. And then there might be more general jealousy at work, about Kabru being an ideal with all these qualities and how well off he seems despite being broke too, Mickbell possesses so few qualities and his party leader that he finds incompetent on top of everything else just has "every quality given to him on a silver platter" or whatever resenting drivel Mickbell would think up. And then yes there's as I put it, the incompetence- Kabru and Mickbell think & operate in very different ways, Mickbell is very direct while Kabru is very indirect, Mickbell is very practical while Kabru is very guided by ideals- they have very different conceptions of "the end justifies the means", very different goals of self-serving vs greater good. They have different morals and views on retribution with the corpse retrievers, he's the one who pushes most against Kabru's plan of keeping going into the dungeon even after things go wrong and so he's the one who gets his concerns dismissed by Mickbell most, alongside Rin. Like with Rin he seems to see Kabu as reckless and as someone who takes things too lightly, which as someone who takes his job very seriously is frustrating, and like with Holm and Dia too he seems well aware of his flaws with people and his "fakeness", which doesn't endear him lol. Also someone stubborn- which from someone stubborn to another is always a sign of a great war incoming lmao.

And I do want to reiterate the beef is onesided!! Kabru is maybe even the most charitable and patient with Mickbell. As much as Holm let him and Kuro crash for a night, Kabru was the one to give him the money to go to a bathhouse. You can see his look of concern at stinky Mickbell in the first panel lol.

Again I'll share this comp of Mickbell and Rin being on his case, to see some examples! And my personal favorite:

And notice the Dia-Holm sideglance in the next-to-last panel. Is it a "he spitting some truth rn" or a "Ahh Kabru is on his corny shit again"? Wouldn't you like to know lmfao

Daya & Holm

You looove to be unbothered and uninvolved in the love square happening. The hate triangle if you will (Kuro isn't involved in that one he dgaf). You looove to just give professional opinions on the party's plans and that's it, you love keeping things to yourself and being a quiet pillar of the party rather than anything showy or flashy. I just love their side-eyes I just love making them quietly judge everyone especially togther, "you are my partner in sanity" fr.

Even together they don't have that strong a bond, like with Rin & Mickbell it starts and ends with their work dynamic pretty much. Still, consistently over and over again when the party divides itself into subgroups naturally, these two gravitate towards each other. As above a Daydream Hour shows them hanging out (off-work considering their outfits?) and points out that they're the party members "closest in age", 58 and 76 respectively, the oldest beside them is Rin at 24. Developmentally, with just proportionally comparing their lifespan to tallman's and calculating in kind Dia would be 23 while Holm is 30, so this thing about being closest in age seem to be about them both being longlived races, thus having a more similar sense of time and outlook on the world for it. They do seem to be all around the most mature and well adjusted of the group- although those appearances can for sure hide some deep flaws we just haven't been able to truly notice.

OTHERS?

These are the ones I felt were worth commenting on but they all have litle dynamics between each other, with Mickbell & Daya the least probably, for example if you want Holm & kabru thoughts I made a ship post about them and compiled most of their interactions. Like, I do like to summarize Holm @ kabru as "i won't talk about it but damn you live like this??". Holm @ most of the party actually lol. Holm has bigger fish to fry anyways, like Mickbell, who already outranks Kabru there and then crashes at his house on top of it. Holm and Rin often team up to talk about magic, when shopping or when Kabru asks something.

Daya and Holm have less strong & deep dynamics because they have less ties, simple as, they keep themselves less entangled in what's pretty much office life- yes they're willing to risk their lives to dungeon dive with th party, but that's as with any adventurer, as with everyone desperate and unstable enough to have it as their main job. Rin is tied to Kabru so that gives her importance, but Mickbell and Kuro have each other so it gives the party dynamic around them a lot of layers already, their personal lives are more shown during canon and extra because of it, meanwhile Holm and Daya both keep to themselves much more and their personal lives are only hinted at in extras, they don't have drama on the regular in front of the rest of the party the way the others do lmao.

Conclusion

Kabru’s party is in a bit of a weird spot in the main story- I think we can agree they’re characters that feel largely forgotten by the story after a point, and don’t matter all that much. I do think they have a narrative purpose, but. It's all about Kabru and setting his character up, similarly to how Namari was to give Marcille growth and Toshiro was to give Laios growth, it offers us an early Kabru to compare middle and late Kabru with when it comes to relationships and alliances, and with how much they fail and the few scenes they have where Kabru has his mask on and even coldly rebutts Rin I think we're supposed to see the flaws in his way to lead and work in team, where Kabru changing on that end would be for the better. They're a window into Kabru's shortcomings in teamwork and social life, his status quo at the startof the story. Laios' team was as successful in the main story because they truly came together, became friends who revealed their authentic selves to be stronger even when they worked together and were all very different from one another- but what Kabru does is try to hide and compensate for flaws, especially his own, and he hides things from his party and he keeps himself at a distance from it. Laios wasn't all that different with his party pre-canon, but where in the emergency of current events Laios shed pretenses at the risk of being disliked and rejected by others, in early manga Kabru instead tightens his grip on trying to control the party- why Kabru pushes his party members into his plans with less and less care for their opinions with his rebuttal of Rin as the peak of that- until he even lowkey isn't all that motivated by his party members being hostages lol. Like- am I making sense??

Analyzing labru vs kabumisu interpretations of Kabru is honestly very interesting because the two ships' fans seem to often have a completely different take on him. Kabumisu fans tend to emphase on Kabru's need for agency and empowerment and labru fans tend to emphase on Kabru's need to learn to compromise and not taking everything upon himself only, and see like, both are true both are good, and which of the two ships you like more depends a lot on these subconscious little differences in interpretation you naturally develop I think, because while I'm a double agent I myself prefer labru a bit and I naturally lean towards the "Kabru has lessons and change to do" angle, where with kabumisu often the focus is on not Laios gaining understanding from another but Kabru gaining understanding from another. For Kabru to grow vs to be validated, for him to finally feel safe and comfortable, and that to be achieved either through growth or through comfort, though both through understanding one another. It's about trust it's about understanding others on your own terms vs theirs it's about how being willing to open up and delve in relationships makes your understanding of people better, truer!! Understanding others, debatably the biggest theme in Dunmeshi!! Anyways don't tell the fandom I said that

In the wider meta narrative- Dunmeshi has a big theme of conforming and fitting into society, all its main character have that as a big theme- Laios being a misfit, Marcille being a half-elf, Chilchuck being a half-foot in a bigoted society, Senshi being an exiled hermit, Izutsumi being a beastkin… The experiences are varied but it’s an universal theme, everyone has things they're ostracized for somewhere or other. And I think all of Kabru’s party have a facet, variance of that that’s interesting, one that’s less about social acceptance and finding your place like Laios’ party but has a bigger focus on economical struggle, Kabru and Rin are to put it very short powerless child refugees, Mickbell and Kuro are dirt poor, Daya was threatened to fit into a strict mold and Holm was put in jail for academic studies. They have codependent relationships and emotional unavailability all around in different ways, there's isolation as a theme there too. That also is largely a Dunmeshi theme. Does no one have a fucking healthy good thriving social life? A good work-personal life balance? Being in touch with yourown needs and feelings perhaps? The triforce of things you can never have all at once in dunmeshi. But all these similar yet different hardships, all these people with hard to pin down exteriors- it's all about understanding too. How can you judge without first understanding, you know?

They're doubtlessly minor characters, but they're also part of that large tapestry of diverse people that's needed for Dunmeshi to do what it does, thematically and narratively. For that final battle to have so many different people come together to fight on the side of humanity, for all its habitants for all the facets of people in it, together. "If even one thing had been missing, we wouldn't have gotten here" as Kabru puts it himself in the next-to-last chapter. This is Dungeon Meshi, everything is interwoven, it's all a web because our environment shapes us as much as we shape it.

They get sidelined by the story. much like they were by Kabru- but he does have their loyalty, like how Laios' party stuck together through it all, even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, and when it's time for the final battle they're there to help and it matters, they matter. Relationships, trust, goes both ways, it shouldn't be onesided. If someone proves genuine why not try opening up? Kabru's party always trusts him and show up when it matters- Because to put full trust in another is terrifying and risky, but sometimes it'll pay off, and still always they take that step to trust their leader. Trust and love and care isn't a transaction, earned or not, and all you can do is try to appreciate it and repay it in care. In the end Kabru's party reminds us of those things, that despite everything we all need someone.

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men -

Chapter 1: #355E3B

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

[Fair warning, guys: Canon is a ball pit, and I’m throwing a baby into it. I have no clue what's happening. Feel free to point out mistakes!]

-

Danny was starting to hate the color green. It was the color of death.

Green reminded him of the portal that killed him, and the electricity that was constantly humming under his skin. It reminded him of being on the wrong end of an ecto-blaster and having to dodge for dear life. It reminded him of choking plants that swallowed him whole and tried to turn him into fertilizer. It reminded him of his glowing eyes and how they seemed to take up his entire face when he looked at himself in the mirror.

And right now, as he lay weakly on his side, grasping at fresh wounds with shaky fingers as he tried to ice them closed, the green blood that was splattered everywhere reminded him he wasn’t human.

Not anymore.

-

Green was a familiar color to Ra’s al Ghul. It was the color of life. 

Green reminded him of the Lazarus Pits, mostly. When it was the reason he’d lived such a long life, how could it not be the first thing he thought of? Green also reminded him of his cloak and the warmth it wrapped him in during the cold desert nights when his wife was still alive. Of the beauty he saw in the natural world and why he wanted to protect it. It reminded him of his green eyes that have been passed down through his very few children and grandchildren. Green was the color of the al Ghuls and represented the power he’d amassed through centuries of hard work. 

And right now, as he stood before the Well of Sins, Ra’s was reminded of a secret contract that was buried deep within his personal records, and the monster he’d made it with. The Gardener, the creature called itself, was a being who had crawled out of a Lazarus Pit years ago in search of Ra’s. Its flesh was made from thorny vines and grasses intertwined, and its eyes were tiny red blooms that glowed and made him feel sick just thinking about it. It had forced him into the contract, exchanging power and knowledge in return for a promise of help in the near future. 

‘Near future,’ my ass. Timothy Drake's fleeting voice flickered in his mind, and he could only agree with his subconscious's crude words. It seemed like the only appropriate term as it had already been several centuries since the contract was made, and the being had yet to claim its part of the deal.

He watched, mind racing, as the Well of Sins started swirling frantically. He was alone, with his attendants on standby. Should he call them in? No. Whatever was causing the strange reaction in the pool had something to do with that contract. He could feel it. A power was tugging at his heart, drawing him closer to the edge of the green waters. He loathed to admit it, but this was beyond his scientific understanding. He just knew that every time he tried to look away and leave, his whole body felt like it was alight with flame.

So he stood. And he stared. For hours, possibly, before the first sign of something new caught his attention. A screeching sound was echoing from the bottom of the pool. It slowly got louder and higher pitched as the stone floor started glowing so bright Ra's almost risked the pain of glancing away.

A large head was making its way through the bottom of the pool. It went slowly to accommodate large shoulders, followed by a wide chest and narrow waist. The figure paid no mind to the churning of the Well of Sins and broke the surface of the waters with the ease of a seasoned swimmer. The screeching sound echoed wildly, bouncing unnaturally throughout the chamber, sounding more like incomprehensible words. Ra's wanted to plug his ears with wax and banish the figure back where it came from. Instead, he didn't even twitch an eye.

The Gardener stood before him. And it was carrying a body.

"Master of Lazarusss," it hissed, inclining its head in acknowledgment, but making no move to exit the pool. "Too long has it been, has it not? I've come to collect on my part of the deal."

Ra's nodded in return. Higher being or not, he refused to bow to anyone. "I've expected this, Gardener." He said roughly. Despite learning their language years ago, the sharp chirps and clicks made by the dead were difficult to sound out. It was like he was trying to mimic a broken radio. "Although it's taken longer than I expected for your arrival."

The Gardener clicked its beak in annoyance. "Don't give me flowery words, Pretender. It was not my choice whether to appear before you or not. The Scepter of our realm visited me long ago and commanded me thus; I only now see her vision behind it."

"I...see." He did not see, thank you very much. That was more information in two sentences than he'd ever managed to get from the Gardener. Were there others at play in this little contract of theirs? He did not like the idea of that. "And I assume this whole thing has something to do with the boy in your arms?"

The Gardener let out a low humming sound that seemed to originate from its chest and echo in Ra’s bones. It glanced down, turning the body over gently to let Ra's see his face. The boy was just a child, no older than sixteen. He was deathly pale and seemed eerily stiff, just as if rigor mortis had set in. His white hair was plastered to his forehead from the water, and his clothes were nothing more than rags. Thick green blood was leaking from several wounds and pooling underneath his skin. It wasn't hard to guess what the Gardener was about to ask.

"This is our Guardian and one of the last of his kind. His haunt is not safe anymore, and I task you with his care for the foreseeable future."

Without waiting for a response, the Gardener sloshed forward to set the boy oh-so-gently upon the edge of the pool, taking care that his thorns did not pierce the child. A few vines cupped his face gently as if the Gardener was sad about the boy's state of being.

The assassin made no move to step forward and claim him. "What iske?" He asked. Ra’s voice caught on the last syllable, and he had to repeat the question again properly. Annoying.

The Gardener didn’t seem to mind and just stepped back, relinquishing its hold completely. "He is our Guardian." It repeated. "Care for him well. His fraid will be on the hunt for him and return any harm tenfold. But earn his loyalty, and the power of the Infinite Realms will be at your fingertips. Good luck, Master of Lazarus."

With that, the Gardener disappeared beneath the waves of the Well of Sins, and the waters calmed. The only proof that someone had been there was the sopping wet teen that lay at Ra's feet.

Ra's stared at the boy. The tugging in his heart was a bind, he realized. And it was tying him to the boy. Well, caring for a dead child shouldn't be that hard. Despite his disagreement with Talia over the matter, Jason Todd had turned out just fine, hasn’t he?

With the contract heavy on his mind, Ra's turned and left the boy lying there, clicking his jaw and calling for his attendants to collect him. The Lazarus Pits had gifted him with a new heir, it seemed.

-

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

In another world, a redheaded girl was on the edge of a rampage. Her scream echoed down the suburban street her house was on, and the neighbors sighed quietly and locked their windows shut, not realizing the severity of the question. They were used to this family's antics, and the girl's screaming as a result.

But this could not be written off as 'family antics.'

Jasmine Fenton, nicknamed ‘Jazz,’ was positively furious. Red-faced, she stood before her parents with steam coming from her ears and a bat in hand. 

“Jazzy-pants, we-” her father tried.

“Nope!” Jazz put up a hand to stop him. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear it. I already know.” 

She whirled around, tuning out her parents' protests as she stormed through their house. Correction, her parent’s house. If she had her way, Jazz would never see these metal and unloving walls ever again. Neither would her brother, once she found him. 

Her phone rang, and she flipped it open with a snap, leaving the bat at the end of the hallway. Only a few people had her number, and it sure as hell wasn’t her parents calling her. “What.” She barked, shoving the phone between her shoulder and ear as she dug through Danny’s closet. His bug-out bag hadn’t been moved. 

“It’s Tucker.”

“We have a code green and a code yellow.” She ground out. Good, the ecto-dejecto shots were up to date. The less time she spends in that god-forsaken lab, the better. 

“Fuck.” Tucker swore. Rustling was heard and she heard another voice in the background. “I’m putting you on speaker.” 

Jazz re-packed the bag quickly, adding in some non-essentials that she knew Danny would appreciate. After it was settled on her shoulders, she switched the phone back to her hand for a better grip. “Is Sam there?”

“I’m here.” The girl responded. 

Jazz tripped over her bedroom carpet in her rush to her room. She cursed but recovered and started ransacking her closet and drawers. “Good. One of you needs to contact Danielle. Our parents sold Danny out, and the GIW took him while I was gone yesterday. I’m going ghost and getting him back. Tell Danielle she’s in danger since they have her ecto-signature now.”

“We’re going with you.” Sam said firmly. There was more rustling, and Jazz guessed they were looking for their own emergency bags. “I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll get him back.” 

“Are you going to shut down the portal?” Tucker asked. 

Jazz paused, considering it. In the original plan, Danny was in charge of shutting down the portal while Jazz and the others took care of the Fentons, GIW, and everything else. It was personal for him; his final resting place. But now that Danny was missing, and they needed a reliable escape route. 

“Not permanently.” She decided. “I’ll figure out how to turn it off temporarily, or put a shield up, but Danny will need to be the one to make that call.” 

Tucker started typing furiously on his laptop, muttering under his breath until he got to the file he wanted. “Sam and I will take care of the town defenses, and Dani’s on her way from New Zealand. She’ll be here in a few hours. I’m sending you a bug; plug it into the Fenton’s security systems, and it’ll lock them out of the house for now. Only do it after you’re done in the labs. Sam’s gone off and is pulling some strings to get all the ghosts in town back to the Zone. I’ll start tracking Danny and shutting down all the Fenton and GIW equipment I can find.”

“Thanks, Tucker. I’ll meet you guys at Nasty Burger in two hours; pass that message to Danielle.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Jazz?”

“Yeah, Tuck?” Jazz started counting her hidden wads of cash, making sure it was all there. They never wanted to believe the Fentons would go this far, but she was glad they’d made contingency plans just in case. 

She could hear Tucker’s silent snarl as he said his parting remark. “Leave enough of them behind for the rest of us.”

Jazz laughed, a little hysterical. “I’ll try.” She said, bidding him farewell. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure she could look at her parents ever again. But she knew, deep in her bones, that if they tried to stop her, there wouldn’t even be ashes left from the hell she would raise. 

-

Gotham was caught in a storm. It was one of those ugly, howling summer storms that threw water in your eyes and bit your skin with a vengeance. Damian squinted, trying to make out the sight of Spoiler and Signal through the rain, but even their bright uniforms were lost in the shadows.

He tightened his grip on his grappling hook as a particularly harsh wind tried to throw him around like a ragdoll. Water seeped into his collar, making him shiver. A beep echoed in his ear, and he risked taking one hand off the line to answer his comms.

"Robin," Oracle was practically shouting in his ear over the storm. "Signal made it to the Cave. Spoiler is rounding up Condiment King, and then she'll do the same. You can go back now."

Damian tsked. "Father is still out here," he replied. "I shall not return until he does."

"Robin-" Oracle sighed.

Another gust of wind made him grunt, and he cut the call to refocus on scaling the building. The only good thing that came from such a wild storm was that most of the villains were smart enough to stay inside. Splitting up in such conditions always left a sour taste in his mouth, but Damian understood it was necessary to cover as much ground as possible during times of emergency.

He wasn't sure this counted as an emergency, but Todd was certainly treating it as such. The citizens of Crime Alley were being hit hard. Enough to the point where Red Hood had openly invited the Bats onto his turf to help with the flooding and evacuation from some unstable buildings. Batman and Red Robin had gone, leaving Robin and Orphan to cover their patrol routes.

Finally, finding purchase on the rough brick, Damian quickly hauled himself up to safety. Some of his equipment was ruined, and his costume was soaked. Truly, this storm had come out of nowhere.

His comms clicked back to life. "Robin." Cain's clipped tone was somehow louder than Oracle's voice.

"I'm here," he replied, scowling at the oily mud on his shoes. Damned pollution.

"Home," Orphan said simply.

Damian scowled even harder. He could argue with Oracle without issue, but he barely won when it came to speaking with Orphan. "...Fine." He sniffed. "I shall return."

"Good." Damian could hear the smile in her voice. "Agent A has cocoa."

"I'll consider it." He said stiffly. He imagined his adoptive sister smiling slyly and glancing toward the sky before the comms switched off, leaving him to his thoughts again. After checking his grapple to ensure it still worked, he started picking his way through the building at a snail's pace, letting himself get distracted whenever he spotted someone in trouble. The Batcave would be warmer and dryer than the streets, but not everyone had a dry place to return to. Every little bit helped in the long run, and even Damian wouldn't pass by a lost child in the rain.

The only thing that bothered him more than the dark clouds overhead and fresh hail on the way home was the unnatural feeling on his spine. It felt like someone was watching him, judging him. But when he looked, nobody was there.

-

The stars were gone.

Danny felt weightless as he floated, staring at the space where the stars were supposed to be. He felt lighter than normal. Danny was surrounded by colors that flowed and ebbed like the tide, taking him deeper into this mysterious space. Golden fish and silver deer wove past him as fire and ice trailed behind, and yet he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to get up. He just laid there silently. A bone deep exhaustion was settling into him, but sleep refused him.

“Ghost Child.”

Oh, Danny was dreaming. He was already asleep.

He didn’t turn his head, nor acknowledge when the stars returned to his line of sight. The stars wrapped around him like a curtain, cutting off the rest of the dreamscape. Two bright eyes, burning like red giants, peered down at him as thin hands cupped his body.

“Ghost Child.” The voice repeated again, speaking in his mind even as the words were swallowed by the silence of space.

Danny turned his head slowly. “Nocturn,” he murmured. These too, were snatched from his throat and lost. The cold seeped into his chest and he hiccuped. He couldn’t speak. Not that he really wanted to.

Luckily, Nocturn seemed to understand him just fine. He cradled Danny gently, bringing him closer to his chest. Something shifted in the fabric of space, and suddenly Danny was being laid to rest on the smooth stone of a crescent moon, as pearly white as his own hair. He sighed as the coolness of the moon seeped into his body, soothing aches and burns he didn’t remember getting.

“Where are we?” He wanted to ask.

Nocturn blinked slowly at him, his face twisted down towards Danny. His ram’s horns glinted as a glowing blue jay landed on them and started preening itself. Danny wanted to fly with the bird. His body didn't move.

“Sleep, Ghost Child.” Nocturn hummed. The moon vibrated beneath Danny, soothing the electric currents that kept him awake no matter what he did. Danny’s eyes started sliding shut as Nocturn’s song wrapped around him like a lullaby.

The others… Danny’s mind whispered.

Are safe. The song replied. Rest, young guardian. Your people are safe. You did well.

That was all he needed to hear. Danny let himself fall into slumber, relief flooding his mind. Yes, his people were safe. He did well. He deserved some rest.

As the young ghost fell into a dreamless sleep, a real sleep, Nocturn gently tucked the boy in with a blanket made from his own starry robes, shifting the fabric once more to hide away his core, and the boy who was resting on it. The bluejay on his head chirped indignantly from the movement and flew away, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

Nocturn paid it no mind. Warnings from Fate were never a good idea to ignore, but the bird was but a memory of a life that had long since passed. It only stuck around because of the dreams that kept feeding it. The ghost let his lullaby continue as he returned to his work, taking care to move slowly.

Undergrowth was taking care of his physical body, so he would care for the boy's mind. Vortex was off to round up the little ghostlings who had scattered like dandelion seeds, and the Master of Time was keeping an eye on the rest of Phantom's fraid while they rampaged in the mortal realms. After the stunt he pulled to protect the Realms, it was the least the elder ghosts could do.

-

"Is the boy awake?" Ra's asked sharply, entering the private rooms he had set aside for the boy.

The attending nurse, an older man born with no tongue, bowed his head and signed, 'No, sir. Vitals are off. He is a cold corpse.'

Ra's regarded the boy. It has been several weeks since the Gardener dropped the boy off in his care, and he hadn't awoken once throughout the entire time. He truly looked like a regular dead teenager, if you exclude the unnaturally white hair.

The Demon's Head bent over the boy's bed, tugging open an eyelid to see if he would react. Nothing. However, he noted the boy's eyes were green, which he was mildly pleased about. Green was such a lovely color, and this boy seemed surrounded in it.

A sharp knock echoed from the door, and Ra's granted the other party permission to enter. His best phlebotomist, a man named Paz, entered, holding a stack of papers as thick as his thumb. He bowed to Ra's as soon as he saw him.

"The results?" Ra's asked.

Paz immediately handed over his work, fully confident that Ra's understood everything he'd written. "For all purposes, the boy is dead." He said in a thick accent. He spoke in halted Arabic, as he'd only lived in 'Eth Alth'eban for a short time. "He has no circulation. No heart to move blood, or lungs to breathe. We must move him every hour to prevent postmortem lividity. He has undergone an extensive autopsy process, but it seems it was stopped before his brain was removed. No organs remain in his body otherwise.”

Ra's examined the papers. They were reports from different scientists and doctors, all of whom had been assigned to examine and work on the boy. Most of them said the same thing. The boy was dead and had been for a while. If the Well of Sins didn't do anything when he first exited the waters, what good would it do now?

He flicked his eyes up. "But you think otherwise," he stated.

Paz nodded enthusiastically. "The boy is dead, but his blood is alive!" He tapped a green folder that was poking out from the bottom of the pile. Ra's shuffled the papers off to the nurse and opened it. Printed off charts had been scribbled over with Paz’s frantic notes, documenting his thought process.

The phlebotomist rambled excitedly as his boss read his work, gesturing wildly. “It’s incredible! Most of his red blood cells have died off, and he has an abnormal amount of white blood cells, which indicate some kind of infection. But his plates-“

‘Platelets.’

“Platelets,” Paz nodded his thanks to the nurse for correcting his speech. “The boy’s platelets are still alive, and are actually trying to heal his injuries! We recorded a time-lapse last week to confirm it. The process is incredibly slow, even compared to human healing, but there’s a difference! Because of the absence of red blood cells, the plasma left in his body has practically doubled in volume, even though there’s no circulation to keep it moving. We’ve noticed a collection of stem cells at the base of his skull has started growing as well, and whatever it’s producing is being released into the body at regular intervals.”

“What kind of cells are they?”

“Unsure. At first, we thought it was cancerous in nature.” Paz tapped the corner of the folder again, prompting Ra’s to turn the page. “And while these cells are certainly growing as fast as unchecked cancer, rather than doing harm, we’ve taken samples and noted that they’re merging with whatever original matter has been left in the boy’s body. Bonding, like glue! The healing process is periodically speeding up with every release, the plasma has started circulating on its own, and the white blood cell count is diminishing. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s filling in for everything that’s missing, and keeping what is there, alive. Dr. Vanessa hypothesized that within the month, it may even start replacing the boy’s organs.”

Ra’s looked up from the research. “These photos look like plant cells, is this an example or actual recordings of the activity?”

Paz wrinkled his nose. “Those are evidence of the activity. For some reason, cellulose is present within his body, and the mysterious stem cells seem to be a mix of both plant and animal matter. It’s hard to track even with our technology, but it looks like the cellulose is forming a sort of…skeleton? Frame? I’m not sure what the right word is, but Dr. Vanessa says they might start regrowing in another month. If that’s true, this would be a huge breakthrough in the realm of organ transplants and other medical fields!”

The Demon’s Head hummed, flipping through the work again and considering the man’s words. “Very good,” he praised. Paz beamed like a child at his words. “Unfortunately, I shall be releasing you of your duty, and your tongue is too loose for your head.”

“What-“ Paz’s eyes widened as he gurgled, his words cut off. Ra’s twisted his wrist, driving home the dagger he’d planted in the man’s heart. He had no use for men who talked too much.

Paz fell to the floor, convulsing as he tried to weakly remove the weapon still sticking out of his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went pale as his blood seeped out onto the floor.

Ra’s barely spared the dying man a glance, taking back the extra stack of papers from the nurse and neatly stepped around him to exit the room. “Clean that up,” he said over his shoulder.

The old nurse bowed his head, waiting patiently for the foolish doctor to finish dying before he got out the mop.

This is why the nurse had survived so long; he knew how to stay silent.

-

[Nocturn tucking Danny in to rest. Ghost speech says, "Rest well, ghost child"]

[whumpy-wyrms]

yk i was having trouble writing tllr chapter 12 because Dew is sick with a fever in the beginning and i just,, idk felt uninspired or something because im not the biggest fan of sickfics or whatever

well now i’m sick with a fever and it’s helll so sorry Dew im gonna have to put you through this now my bad 👍👍 at least i am now inspired

if this post makes no sense it’s because my brain hurts and i’m tired 👍👍👍

[steelycunt]

FINAL MIDBLOCK ESSAY DONE!! I AM FREE!!

[itwasmagic]

someone make me do my final re-read/tweaks on my fic so i can post it :(

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React a Picture of You with Another guy

Request: Hii!! I love your writing so so much (pls never stop)!!! How do you think the lads men would react to the following scenario: mc makes one of her girl friends dress like a guy and post that on her story/moments (to ward off an annoying co-worker, like what Caleb did in uni, but mc didnt want to bother the guys with this request so she asked Tara or another one of her girl friends). The picture, though, is convincing enough to make even the lads men question if she actually does have a partner and who tf is he. I think Xavier would absolutely malfunction since they are also neighbours lol

AN: I am taking a break from the ship event to gather some inspiration. But this was super fun to write. Thank you for sending in such an amazing idea.

Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff and angst

(I do not own these characters)

Summary: Waking up after an amazing girls' night, you and Tara spent the morning taking silly photos, making all kinds of concerning faces, until inspiration struck.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Tara grinned, pushing her short hair back. "What if—"

Moments later, you were both giggling uncontrollably, staging fake hard launch photos in your bed. The blurry, cozy results? Surprisingly convincing.

"Oh, this is gonna blow up at work."

Tara rested her chin on your neck, wrapping an arm around you for the final shot. The picture was better than you imagined, so naturally, you posted it to your story before the two of you rushed to get ready for work.

And just like that, your social media went up in flames.

Rafayel:

623 missed calls. 200 texts. 82 more missed calls.

All hours after your post.

Who is he? Why are you in bed with him? Is he your boyfriend? What is his name?

You barely have time to breathe after your meeting before the onslaught of texts floods in. Even the comment section of your post hasn’t been spared.

Thomas is already on the case. Rafayel is whining, sobbing, crying and absolutely not afraid to play dirty to get you back.

He's already planned a hundred ways to nip this budding romance at the root.

He thinks he has the upper hand, feels kinda smug about it too.

Still… there’s a twinge of heartbreak. A little ache for having to wait longer for you, for the idea that you might have chosen someone else. But if nothing else, Rafayel is persistent.

So, of course, he’s already forgiven you.

But don’t think, even for a second, that he won’t complain about it.

He’s still mulling over it, dramatically painting all his canvases black, getting ready for his villain arc, when you finally call him back.

"A prank?"

He is indignant.

He cried over a prank.

All that effort… for nothing.

"IT’S BEEN 800 YEARS. JELLYFISH ARE WALKING. NAKED SEA TURTLES ARE CLIMBING TREES. SHARKS ARE EATING GRASS—FOR FREE. "

AND RAFAYEL?

RAFAYEL CRIED OVER A PRANK.

HE WENT FULL VILLAIN ARC FOR A LIE.

HIS CANVASES ARE BLACK. HIS PLANS FOR REVENGE? RUINED.

ALL BECAUSE YOU AND TARA WANTED TO PLAY GAMES.

He might never recover. Might. But first, he needs to call Thomas back before his "investigation" starts a national crisis.

Xavier:

He had just returned from a long night of fighting Wanderers when his phone chimed with an alert.

Half-asleep, he smiled at the sight of your name, already thinking of how he'd respond once he changed and collapsed into bed.

That smile froze the moment he saw the picture.

The phone slipped from his fingers, landing on his face. But he didn’t even wince. Too numb to feel it.

His vision blurred. His chest ached. Tears welled, unbidden.

Genuinely heartbroken. So weary. So tired. For a moment, he was shattered.

Did he have the strength to wager another lifetime?

His time was already running out. His strength faded with each passing day. He had selfishly wanted this spring with you...but this was better for you. You were too kind, too caring to bear his loss.

Perhaps this was for the best. His lips trembled at the thought.

You had someone now, someone who would not bring you grief. And you looked so happy in that photo. He stared at the blurred curve of your smile, tracing it with his gaze.

Somehow, he managed a small smile too.

And then he folded into himself. And slept.

For days.

So long that you started to worry, noticing his absence at work.

Until, finally, you barge into his apartment, breathless and frantic, only to find him asleep, moonlight spilling across his face, eerily still.

Your heart plummeted.

"Xavier." Your voice trembled as you rushed to him, fingers shaking as you took his hand.

For a terrible, suffocating second, he didn’t move.

And then, his brow twitched.

Air rushed back into your lungs.

Zayne:

This was to be expected.

He was never what you needed.

He often failed at words. His gestures, too vague to be understood.

You deserved someone who loved you. Someone who had the courage to say those words out loud.

Not him.

Not someone who could hurt you. His scars only grow deeper with time.

So he accepts it. Buries himself in work.

If he could not be your lover, then he would play his part as a friend.

Pays extra attention to your health. Pours over your reports. He must. Because he is no longer close enough to watch over you himself.

And weeks later, when you finally visit him, he keeps up the act—cold, distant, unbothered.

He does all the tests. Runs all the checks. Everything is routine.

But you see it.

The dark circles, deeper than ever. His skin, paler. Cheeks, sunken. His shirt, unwashed.

"You're coming home with me."

Your voice leaves no room for argument as you take his hand. "You never call. You only text about my reports and nothing more. We need to talk."

You tug him forward. He follows, until he stops.

"Your boyfriend won’t like it," he murmurs, staring anywhere but at you.

Silence.

"What boyfriend?"

You blink at him, dumbfounded.

Sylus:

Sylus spits his coffee, choking as he stares at the pictures.

Does not buy it.

That’s clearly not a man.

Yet somehow, he keeps going back to it, again and again.

It’s only when Luke and Kieran peer over his shoulder that his denial starts cracking.

"Ooooh, boss has got competition," Luke chimes.

One minute, they’re laughing. The next, they’re outside the mansion, the door slamming shut behind them.

Luke blinks. "That explains..."

Kieran yanks him into a chokehold for getting them banished for the day.

Inside, Sylus switches to wine.

The day has been too much.

Not a man, right? he muses, scrutinizing the photo, before accidentally pressing the heart button.

And then, he all but chews the glass in his hand.

He’s not worried.

He just suddenly feels the urge to burn his entire closet because nothing looks good enough.

He doesn’t care.

He’s just made a few calls, just to make sure you’re not involved with anyone sketchy. Unless, of course, it’s him.

Then, like an absolute idiot, he gets a panicked call from an associate.

The only person who’s been in your apartment? Tara.

Sylus stares at the image. Facepalms.

That evening, when he picks you up from work, he looks exhausted.

As if a few hours have aged him years.

When you ask, he waves you off, dodging every question.

You raise a brow. "Are you sure? You look—"

"I said it’s nothing," he snaps, before sighing, dragging a hand down his face. "...Can we just go home

Caleb:

Storming to Linkon.

Geared up to blow up the entire apartment complex.

Spends five minutes struggling with the locked door before finally getting it open.

Marches in.

Stops. Sighs in disapproval at your empty fridge.

Good thing he packed snacks. Leaves them on your counter. You’ll thank him later.

Then, back to the mission.

Collects all forensic evidence needed. Marches out.

No time to waste.

Supervises the DNA administration.

Hair sample. Used coffee mug. Both next to yours.

He will find the bastard. He will take him out.

And then, he will whisk you away to Skyheaven, to console you once you learn of your tragic, mysterious loss.

Grief will bring you closer.

Every intern running tests is sweating.

So are the lead scientists, who have been personally forced to oversee this insanity.

No one is messing with the colonel today.

And then, finally, the results land on his desk.

Caleb stares. Dumbfounded.

Is he to fight both men and women for you now?

You better watch out for Tara because he does not discriminate.

[notjustanymahogany]

mom help I think that edible multiplied my ADHD because I just:

remembered I needed to get a pillowcase and left my room to get it,

forgot why I left my room,

went back to my room,

sat down,

remembered,

left my room,

thought "why do I keep leaving my room!!!"

came back in my room,

sat down,

remembered AGAIN,

left room,

thought "did I have my pillowcase in in there this whole time?"

I did not. I found the pillowcase.

It is now on my pillow.

[zorphie]

loud sigh as i look over the 300+ pages of my spiralverse lore with the habit of rewriting everything after 2 seconds powered by category 7 hyperfixation. hey

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[houseofaegon]

ooo maybe needy/desperate bob with reader. (saw this on another blog where he has an oral fixation with readers breasts, so maybe a breeding thing going on there as well?) if youre feeling up to it, maybe he DOES knock the reader up (by accident or on purpose, your choice) and him just taking care of the reader/what he'd do

Yours ✩ Bob Reynolds

Pairings: Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolt!Reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. unprotected p in v, oral fixation (breasts), breeding kink, accidental pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms & test scene, found family, fluff, emotional comfort, soft and needy!bob.

Summary: What started as another desperate night tangled in Bob’s arms becomes something so much more. Two weeks later, something in your body changes—and Yelena and Bucky are the first to notice. When the test confirms it, you’re terrified. But when you finally tell Bob… he drops to his knees. Because he meant every word he’s ever said. And now it’s real. He’s yours. And you’re his. Forever.

Author's Note: oh my god i'm screaming rn, i'm getting bombarded with request of bob with a breeding kink ughhhhhh and i am not complaining, keep them coming cause its hot as fuckkkkkk!!! this one's shorter lol. i've been writing a loooott these past few days jeezzzz, i'm so obsessed with bob i can't take it anymore. bob being a dad is all i need in this life. my baby deserves happiness!!! <3 i might’ve taken a lot of inspiration from the headcanons i posted yesterday about bob having a breeding kink lol im giggling like an idiot right now. thank you for the request!! i have so many in my inbox now i promise i will get to them soon, im writing a lot of them right now so i will probably be posting them these next days <3 ty again for all the love and support!! i love u all

Bob's hands were already tearing your shirt off.

You’d barely even started to lift it when he groaned and got impatient—fingers grasping the hem, tugging, mouth already on your skin before it was halfway over your head.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped, lips grazing the curve of your breast as it bounced free. “You're so beautiful.”

You could feel him shaking. His mouth closed over one nipple like it was instinct, and he moaned, deep and wrecked.

“Bob—” you whimpered, back arching up as his tongue swirled slow and messy around your hardened nipple.

“I can’t help it,” he groaned into your chest. “They're so perfect. So full. You were made for me.”

You were already wet. Just from this. From his mouth, his need.

He sucked, switching sides like he couldn’t get enough. Like he’d die if he didn’t taste every inch of you.

“You want it again, baby?” he asked, voice thick. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes—Bob, please…”

He was already pushing your legs open, pulling his sweats down just enough to free himself. He didn’t tease. Just lined up, pushed in slow, groaning.

“Gonna make you mine all over again,” he whispered, thrusting deep and steady. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t be able to think straight.”

His mouth never left your chest. Kissing, sucking, moaning into your skin.

“You're everything,” he whispered. “You’re mine.”

He came with your nipple in his mouth, deep inside, holding you down as he spilled into you with a low, broken groan.

“Look at you,” he whispered, resting his hand on your lower belly, still buried deep inside you. “So fucking full of my seed. Gonna have you leaking for days.”

You laughed softly, breathless. Teased him—called him obsessed.

He just grinned, kissed you again, slow, messy, tender. He pulled you into his arms and tucked you beneath his chin.

You fell asleep on his chest, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing.

Neither of you knew what you'd done.

Not yet.

But you would soon.

Two weeks later, you couldn't sleep. Something in your body felt off, too sensitive, achy, warm in ways that lingered longer than they should. It hit you in waves: nausea in the mornings, dizziness in the evenings, a strange heaviness in your chest that wasn’t just physical.

You knew the signs. But you didn’t want to believe it.

The gym was warm. You were mid-spar with Yelena, sweat clicking your back, knuckles stinging with every hit, but something wasn't right. Your chest felt tight. Too tight. Your balance, off. The world tilted just a little too much as you threw your next punch.

You stumbled.

“Whoa—whoa, easy there.” Bucky was at your side in a flash, strong arm wrapping around your back, catching you before your knees hit the mat. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, too quickly, breath catching in your throat.

Yelena wasn’t convinced. She stepped forward, arms crossed, that sharp look in her eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay, dollface? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I’m just lightheaded,” you muttered, brushing them off. “Didn’t eat breakfast this morning, that’s all—”

But then your stomach twisted. Your throat burned. And you turned.

You ran.

Straight down the hall, straight into the nearest bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet before your stomach gave out.

Bucky was right behind you, kneeling next to you without hesitation, one hand rubbing your back, the other gently pulling your hair our of your face. “Hey. Breathe. Just breathe, okay?”

Yelena stormed in seconds later. “Move over, Barnes. Let me see her face.”

You slumped back against the wall, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Sweat beaded at your temple. Your hands were shaking.

Yelena crouched in front of you, her expression surprisingly sof.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “We’re going to ask this one more time. Are. You. Okay.”

You looked between them—Yelena’s raised brow, Bucky’s furrowed one—and sighed.

“I don’t know.”

That afternoon, you were sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor with Yelena beside you, both of you hunched over the pregnancy test box. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the tub, arms crossed, visibly trying his best not to panic.

You held the test in your hands—upside down, because you couldn’t look yet. You weren’t ready.

"Okay, so hypothetically, if you’re pregnant, what’s the plan? Hide it? Cry? Run to Russia and live off-grid? Because I vote off-grid. Maybe Monaco or Hawaii.”

"Yelena," Bucky muttered.

“What? I’m being supportive.”

You stared at the stick, hand trembling. “I can’t do it. I can’t look.” You handed it to Bucky.

He looked confused. “Me?”

"Please, Bucky. I can't do it."

He sighed, gently taking the test from your hand.

There was a long beat of silence.

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until you looked up at him. His eyes met yours. And that was it.

You knew.

Bucky didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to.

Your hand flew to your mouth. Your heart dropped, rose, twisted.

Yelena blinked, leaning in, yanking the test from Bucky's hands. “Wait—wait. No fucking way.”

You didn’t speak. Just nodded slowly.

Yelena’s jaw dropped as she stared at the test. “You’re actually pregnant?!”

You nodded again, and then—Yelena shrieked, the test flying off her hands and landing on the floor.

“Oh my god! That golden retriever of yours did it?! I knew your boobs looked bigger!”

“Yelena!” Bucky barked.

But she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, pulling you against her like you were made of glass.

“I got you, babe,” she whispered. “We’re gonna figure this out.”

And Bucky—he didn’t say much. But he sat beside you, one big hand landing gently on your shoulder.

“I’m here too,” he said, quiet. “Whatever you need. But you gotta tell him."

Bucky and Yelena left your room a couple minutes after that. The test was still in the bathroom. Your hands were trembling.

Pregnant.

The word echoed in your head. Your legs felt like they might give out.

You sat on the edge of your bed, clutching a pillow to your chest, trying to calm your breathing when the door opened.

"Hey, baby," Bob's voice was warm. He sounded so happy.

You looked up. He was still in his tactical suit, unzipped halfway, sweat in his collarbones, golden curls messy from his field training. Walker and Ava's voices echoed down the hall behind him, fading away.

Bob's smile widened when he saw you. "You okay? I missed you. You didn't text after your traning—I figured you were tired, but…”

You cut him off.

“Bob,” you said quickly. “Wait.”

His smile faltered.

“I—I need to tell you something. Just… listen, okay?”

His face went still. That happy smile was gone, replaced by a look of concern.

You stood slowly, your hands shaking.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay? Did something—"

You cut him off again.

"I'm pregnant."

Then the world stopped.

Bob froze where he stood, eyes locked on you. He didn't move. Didn't blink. It hit him slowly, like a wave. First, his mouth opened, then closed. Then again. His breathing picked up.

"Please say something," your voiced cracked. Eyes filled with tears almost instantly.

“Are you serious?” he said, voice cracking, almost breathless. “Baby—please tell me this isn’t a joke. You’re really…”

You nodded, heart pounding. You were crying already.

“I’m pregnant, Bob.”

He walked towards you and dropped to his knees.

Just like that.

His hands found your waist as he pressed his face to your stomach—nothing even showing yet—and sobbed.

“Fuck,” he choked. “Oh my god. Baby, you’re pregnant. You’re really pregnant.”

You ran your hands through his hair, gently cradling his head.

He was shaking. Laughing through tears. His whole body trembling as he kissed your stomach, again and again and again.

“A baby?” he whispered. “Oh god. I’m gonna be a dad.”

He looked up at you and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, voice breaking again. “God, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

He kissed you—fierce, messy, wet with tears—and rested his forehead to yours.

You sobbed, a big grin on your face as you held his face softly.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he promised. “Of both of you. I promise, baby."

And the way he hold you in that moment? You knew he meant it.

Because he meant it. Will all his heart.

He'd always wanted a family, someone to love, someone to care for. And now he had you. Forever.

⊹             ⊹            ⊹             ⊹            ⊹          ⊹             ⊹             ⊹

taglist ⊱☆⊰ @the-a-word-2214 @favestxrboy @uraesthete @abbysbenchpr @sammystarswrite @pey2618 @qardasngan @lunaoieoie @orithyia-eriphyle @amatiswayland @madzzz6958 @all-by-myself98 @dark-silhouette @ghost-ghost-13 @wyvernthekriger @gayfiretruck @watermeezer @lvmxla @novausstuff @mommymilkers0526 @natureartisian @feralgoblinbabe @misaki-evans (if you want to be tagged in my future works lmk! <3)

[teojira]

[Dance with The Devil] [movie!Shadow x reader headcanons]

Summary: a collection of random headcanons/small scenarios based on my "Click Click Boom" post for Shadow!

Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer (1): Harkness scale people, he is of age and can consent and is sentient. I'm allowed to want to kiss the hedgehog.

Disclaimer (2): This can be read as Romantic or Platonic! Though I did write it to be implied romance.

A/N: Yall asked for more, who am I to deny the people (I imagine kissing him every second of the day). I tried to hit a lot of asks all in one to give eveyrone what they asked for! I hope y'all enjoy! Reblogs and comments are super appreciated and motivate me to write more <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow is so extremely overprotective of you, borderline to an unhealthy agree but is it really when you're welcoming to it??

You, by all means, shouldn't encourage him. He's one of the strongest beings on the planet. He can't just make threats, God knows if he'll act out on them.

You can't help but let it happen though, a warm fuzzy feeling deep in your chest clouds your judgment for a few moments. Knowing that Shadow sees you as someone worth protecting, of caring for.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow baring his fangs at Sonic and fucking growling is new though.

"Shadow did you just- did you just fucking growl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sonic was just trying to hug me dude, relax.'

"He'll get his scent all over you. No."

Shadow turns his back on you, so he misses the blush that overtakes your entire face.

He has an inkling though, if the strangled cry from your throat is any indication.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Riding ! With ! Him !!! He takes you on drives all the time, it helps him clear his head and it's his way of asking for physical contact without giving you idea, feeling you against his back and your body pressed up against his does wonder for his mental health, he'll purposefully take longer routes and side roads at night to keep you close.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

If you fall asleep on the couch, Shadow isn't gonna curl up with you, but he's next to the couch, head propped up against the arm rest as he watches over you. He's well aware he could just teleport you both to your room, but you look too peaceful :( and he knows he takes up all your time and energy, so he rather let you rest.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow always walks behind you. It's a nervous habit. If he wanders behind, he has the perfect view to scan for threats.

You go to tell him he's being paranoid, but stop yourself. The last person he cared for died, the girl who gave him a purpose. You shut your joke down fast, shaking your head when Shadow raises an eye bridge at your expression.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" You go with that instead.

"Absolutely not."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Please god can you imagine shopping for him, getting his leather jackets and what not bc he fucking deserves it, especially when you nervously claim that he needs the correct gear for riding his motorcycle and he hits you with:

"That's useless, I can easily chaos control if need be."

BUT HE DOESN'T RIDE WITHOUT IT EVER !!!! You even got it monogrammed, and he runs his thumb across it often, scoffing at himself when he realizes, snatching his hand away.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Shadow likes to be useful, even though you tell him again and again that he doesn't owe you anything, he doesn't listen.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

If you wear makeup and ever fall asleep in it, you can't ever seem to remember if it was you who took it off, your memories jumbling up together to the point you're not sure.

It was Shadow, he knows you don't like showing others your bare face, which he thinks is ridiculous as shit, he likes you as you are, whether with makeup or bare, you're you.

Please I could cry imagining him so gently taking a makeup wipe and rubbing small circles to get that waterproof eyeliner off of you, eyes laser focused into his task. I'm gonna throw up.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

In the colder months, he's susceptible to being more mellow and relaxed. Despite being the ultimate life form and having fur, he still gets cold and hates the feeling.

This brings me to the fact that bro steals your blankets, he has no remorse and will walk right into your room to take your heated blanket. He's an asshole.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Fully believes that nicknames are stupid and that they don't matter, the best he's gonna do for you is call you by your first Intial (ex: Teddy = T) It's rare that he'll do call you by it regardless, but beggers cannot be choosers.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Getting matching bangles to match his inhibitor rings!! Makes him go stupid for a second, brain computing that oh??? You want to match him?? He's gonna tease you, but when you threaten to just take them off, he immediately goes quiet.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The subject of being sick came up often in asks, and he struggles really hard with it. It's not obvious, but if you look closely, his quills are pin straight, and he's easily more agitated.

He's not mad at you, it's not your fault, it's just that seeing you curl up into bed brings back so many bad memories of when Maria has flare ups and couldn't leave her bed.

It made him feel useless. His whole reason for being was to help cure illness, maybe not the common cold. He's aware of that, but the point remains.

Shadow gets more docile, even going to ask Maddie what to do. The woman offers to come over and take care of you instead, but Shadow shuts her down quickly. He's more than capable, and he's a little overprotective.

"Are you sure? I don't mind, I don't have anything going on."

"That isn't necessary."

"But it might be better if it's m-"

"I can take care of them."

It's hard to argue with a 5ft hedgehog that can easily snap your neck, so she regents and hands him over some cold and flu medicine along with painkillers and vaporub and instructions. He looks so silly with all of it in his arms, Gatorade, water, the medicine, some food, but it warms your heart. You haven't had anyone really look after you when you were sick, always left to fend for yourself, so it's nice.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

For my period havers, I am on mine, so this made it in:

Shadow using his hands as personal heating pads for your stomach or the small of your back, you can't seem to remember where you put your heating pad so he sits there with you and just, shoves his hand onto your skin, it's added comfort due to his fur.

"Oh my god, that feels good."

You groan into your pillow, curling up into a ball, your back facing the ultimate lifeform.

"Is it really that bad?"

Shadow hums, moving to ever so slightly knead the skin, smirking to himself when you damn near moan at the feeling.

"You know damn fucking well it's that bad."

Shadow snorts.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Once you're both closer, he allows you to touch him alot more, so long as you ask him first if you can run your fingers over his quills, he finds it soothing, it's common to find you both on the couch, fast asleep together with the TV set to come true crime YouTube video.

Sonic takes a million pictures, to which he sends to Shadow later. The black hedgehog doesn't say anything, but he secretly saves each one.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Speaking of the others, you try and force him to spend time with team Sonic to varying degrees of success. Mainly the success being if you will also be there and be by his side. The team likes you well enough, always playfully telling you that they can handle Shadow if he ever hurts you.

Which gets them Shadow staring them down, his eyes lighting up as a warning.

You'd think they'd learn that this man doesn't play when it comes to you, but they're a bit stupid.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

When it comes to any insecurities you may have, he shuts that shit down IMMEDIATELY, you think it's because he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, but no, it's because he cares about you and will logically tell you facts. Does it help? It's varying, but he still tries.

Issue with your weight. He doesn't care. Are you healthy? That's all that matters. He's strong enough to lift you up, and he'll demonstrate it on you if need be. He doesn't know who put it into your head that there's any issue with it, but he'll fix it.

"Shadow, can I ask you something?"

"Go on."

"Does my weight ever bother you?"

"I am not like human men."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You're insecure about talking about your interests/hyperfixations? He actively will sit down and listen, eyes intense as he takes in every single word you're saying. He'll nod and hum, but his ears are flicked towards you, and Shadow will ask questions pertaining about the characters.

The motherfucker is healing you slowly but surely, mentally and sometimes physically.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

No one thinks that Shadow would be a good companion and will make jokes offhandily that they're sorry that YOU'RE stuck with him, and you don't correct them. They don't deserve to know him.

They don't get to know how the lifeform curls up next to you on his bad days, seeking your affection.

The hedgehog who helps you dry the dishes after every meal with a way too focused look on his face.

The Shadow that always cracks dry ass jokes in hopes to make you smile after a long day.

It's your little secret, and it's one you gladly keep to yourself.

"Oh, he's stuck with me." You wave them off with a smug smirk on your face.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[andvys]

the edges of your soul (i haven’t seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter nine

⭐︎ Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met

warnings: fluff, post apocalypse au, alcohol consumption, drinking game, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, mention of virginity, hurt/no comfort (i guess?), angst, sunshine x grumpy, jealousy jealousy jealousy

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: during a game of never have i ever you find out things you weren’t prepared for

word count: 9k+

authors note: i wrote this part in two days, that’s how excited i was to write it hehe. shoutout to @hellfire--cult as always 🤍 we came up with this chapter months ago and now it’s finally here! roe added the last bit aka THE PAINFUL ONE! I am so excited for the upcoming chapters hehe

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

The air is crisp. The wind is cold and harsher now than it was a few weeks ago. The first snow started falling about a week ago, making the journey a lot harder and slower, which isn’t in your favor at all. You want to go home sooner rather than later. You have already lost so much time, when you were alone and even now too. Your sickness slowed you down, slowed them down. 

You are much better now. The fever had gone down five days into your antibiotic treatment. Your cough is still there, not as strongly as it was before but it’s there. On top of that, you don’t perform as well as you used to before the sickness. You get tired quickly, your muscles get sore and you struggle to breathe. 

Nancy told you that it’s normal, that it might take a longer while for you to recover fully. Her brother Mike suffered for nearly two months after falling sick with pneumonia, carrying an inhaler with him at all times, just like you do too, now. 

It frustrates you a little, because now they all watch you like hawks to make sure that you are not moving around too much. You are not allowed to go on runs or scavenge areas, at least not until you’re healthy again. Steve is scavenging with Eddie now mostly, but today Nancy joined him instead, leaving you and Eddie to stand guard on the snowy parking lot. 

You don’t mind. You like spending time alone with Eddie, but you want to do something. Not being able to help is driving you crazy. 

You play with the hair tie around your wrist, the one that Steve left on you, the one you haven’t taken off yet because he told you to keep it when you tried to give it back. You didn’t question where he got it or whose it was. You have a hunch. 

“Fucking Nebraska.” Eddie murmurs as he leans against the side of the RV, looking up into the grey sky. 

“What’s wrong with Nebraska?” You ask, chuckling. 

Eddie shrugs at you, raising his axe, and he points all around at the snow. “That.” 

“Nebraska isn’t the only state that’s covered in snow right now, Eddie.” You smile in amusement. You rub your glove covered hands together as you turn your body towards him. 

He narrows his eyes at you, sighing loudly. 

“Yeah well, we should have been in uh… Wyoming, Idaho or freaking Utah by now but instead we’re stuck in this godforsaken state. I swear it’s only gonna bring us bad luck.” 

You furrow your eyebrows and giggle at him, shaking your head. 

“This state is really on your most hated list, huh?” 

Eddie scoffs as he turns to face you. His cheeks are red, his nose is too. His bottom lip is trembling from the cold. A few snowflakes adorn his curls. 

“Yup.” 

“Well… if it makes you feel any better… It took me a year to get to Indiana from New York,” you admit, shrugging. “Something always gets in the way. Just like now, if it isn’t the blocked roads then it’s the time we use for scavenging. If it isn’t that, then it’s the time we spend looking for gas… and if it isn’t that then… It's a sickness.” You sigh, looking down at your feet as you kick the snow on the ground. 

Eddie’s eyes soften. Sympathy flashes in them. You felt guilty for falling sick, for slowing them down, for being a ‘burden’ as you had called yourself. He felt a little angry for the way you talked about yourself, for the way you thought you had to apologize for not feeling well.  

A soft huff falls from his lips as he bumps his shoulder into yours. He reaches for your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. 

“Sweetheart, if you mention that one more time… I swear to Ozzy I will eat all your Kitkat’s.” 

Your dimples show when your lips curl into a smile. You shake your head at him, looking back into his eyes with a mean look on your face. You raise your hand up and point your finger at him. 

“Not my Kitkat’s.” You threaten, making him chuckle. 

Eddie grins at you. 

“Stop feeling guilty and I won’t steal your candy, Sweets. It’s simple.” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes at him and he gasps at that, looking at you offended. He throws his hand to his chest and leans back. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Sunshine?” He asks shocked, using the nickname Steve calls you by. 

You shake your head at his act, giggling at his dramatics. You lean down and sink your hand into the snow, scooping some up into your hand. You move back up, smirking evilly at him before you throw it at his face. 

“You’re such a dork, Eddie Munson.” 

Another louder gasp falls from his lips when the coldness hits his skin and he stares at you bewildered. He brings his hand up to his face and wipes away the snow that is now stuck to his skin. 

You are slowly backing away, eyes glinting with amusement as you giggle loudly. 

“You did not just…” He glares at you, taking a step towards you. “You little witch.”

Your eyes widen when he leans down and scoops some snow onto his palm before he charges at you. A squeal falls from your lips as you turn around quickly, trying to run from him. 

“Oh, now you’re trying to run?” Eddie chuckles loudly behind you. “Don’t you wanna finish this little snowball fight?” 

“Nope!” You giggle loudly, hoping that Steve won’t come out of the store and catch you and Eddie running around like little kids. 

“Come here!” 

“Nuh uh!” 

You make the mistake of looking back at him, not controlling your steps like you should. Your foot catches onto ice under a layer of snow and you suddenly lose your balance, slipping on the ice with both feet. You try to steady yourself but to no avail, you are falling. Though you don’t feel the rough concrete underneath you like you were expecting. Instead you fall on something soft… well, softer than the concrete would have felt. 

“Oof…”

Only when you’re on the ground and you feel the arms around your waist and your head protected against a chest, do you realize that you didn’t fall on the ground because Eddie caught you and you landed on top of him instead while he took the fall for you both. 

“Ow…” He murmurs underneath you, grunting at the pain in his back. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble as the shock wears off and you quickly turn around to face him, not getting up just yet. Your eyes are wide and your face is serious, at least until you look at him and all the snow in his hair. 

You stare at each other in silence, breathing heavily. His lip twitches first and then yours follows suit. His eyes flash with amusement and before you know it, you both burst into laughter.

Tension falls off your shoulders. Tension you didn’t realize you even had. But this feels good, you can’t remember the last time you laughed. Especially like this, to the point of tears. 

“Goddamn, you’re a klutz,” Eddie laughs as he leans his head back into the snow, not caring anymore at this point. 

You shake your head, unable to stop the laughter that keeps falling from your lips. 

Eddie lets go of your waist and brings his hand up to your back, patting it softly. 

“Are you okay?” 

You bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the stray tear that escaped from your eyes. You nod at his question. 

“I had a safe fall,” you giggle before it gets cut off by a cough.

Eddie continues to pat your back. He presses his palm against the snowy ground and pushes himself up into a seating position, grunting a bit. You turn away from him and cough into your elbow, clenching your eyes shut. 

“Shit, Sweets.” He mumbles. “Do you need your inhaler?” 

You shake your head at him. Once you calm down, you press your hand against your chest and turn back to face him. Your eyes are a little glassy from all the coughing. 

Eddie’s eyes soften, he gives you a tight lipped smile as he pats your back one last time. 

“No laughing for you anymore, young lady.” He gives you a pointed look. 

You snort and roll your eyes. 

“Hey guys, we–” Steve halts in his tracks suddenly when he finds you on the ground with Eddie. His face falls and his eyes flash with confusion when he takes in the position you’re in – Eddie is sitting up on the ground while you are on top of him, in his lap. By the look on Eddie’s state, he knows you both must have slipped and fallen but how did you get to that point in the first place? And why is Eddie’s arm around your waist? 

He clenches his jaw without realizing it. The sourness inside of him spreads quickly, burning in his chest and taking over his whole body. He clenches his fists around the basket he is holding, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He stares at Eddie’s hand and how he places it on your hip. Eyes burning with anger. 

Steve doesn’t like this and he doesn’t even realize why. 

Your head snaps towards Steve and you frown at the look on his face. Before you even begin to question it, your eyes fall on the basket he is holding and curiosity gets the best of you. You carefully get off Eddie and place your feet back on the ground, accepting his hand that he offers to you. 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together strongly and the fire in him spreads further and up to his face, causing his cheeks to redden. 

You don’t notice but Eddie does, especially when he catches Steve watching how you help him up. How you remove the snow from his jacket and his cheek, making sure that he is clean again before you make your way towards him. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows in surprise, seeing the glare that is directed at him, the murderous gaze. If looks could kill, he would drop dead by now. If he didn’t consider Steve to be one of his best friends, he would have feared him right now. But Eddie only feels smugness and amusement. 

If jealousy had a name, it would be Steve Harrington. 

Eddie’s lip curls into a smirk, and he snickers under his breath. 

“This is too good,” he murmurs under his breath. He is gonna tease him. Oh yeah. He is gonna enjoy this one. 

“What’d you find?” You ask cheerfully as you make your way towards him, smiling brightly already. 

Steve looks away from Eddie and down at you. His eyes instantly soften when they meet yours. The sourness remains in his chest but something else spreads even quicker… warmth. 

You grab the edge of the basket with both hands and peek inside. Your smile falls and your eyes widen. A gasp of excitement falls from your lips when you catch sight of the knitted scarf. 

You look up at him, mustering up your best puppy eyes. 

“Can I have that one?” You plead. 

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the look on your face. Those eyes. He feels his knees falling weak every time you look at him like this. 

He swallows the growing lump in his throat and he nods. 

He almost wants to laugh at your question though. He spent fifteen minutes picking out a scarf for you. He didn’t want just any one. He grabbed the pink one at first before he caught sight of this one. He was unaware of Nancy’s smug face. 

“I picked it out for you.” He mumbles, lip curling upwards when your wide eyes meet his again. 

“You did!?” You nearly squeal as you grab it from the basket, jumping on your feet slightly as you wrap it around yourself. 

Steve’s eyes sparkle as he takes in the pure happiness on your features, all because of a pastel yellow colored scarf. 

“How’d you know this was my favorite color?” You ask, feeling the fluttering of your heart so strongly at this moment, especially when you look into his hazel eyes. 

Steve feels caught and he sinks into himself a little. Heat creeps up to his cheeks and he grows flustered… embarrassed. He clears his throat, shifting from one foot to another. 

He clears his throat, wanting to punch Eddie now more than ever as he catches sight of the smug bastard in the back. 

“I honestly didn’t know… I– I just… remembered you said you had a sunflower field behind your house, so I thought…” he trails off and looks back down into your eyes. They are sparkling for him. Your smile is wider than it was in weeks. You’re happy. “Good to know, though…”

Your heart skips a beat, and your stomach flutters wildly. He remembered your sunflower field? You told him that in the very beginning, when he didn’t even talk back much, when you just rambled his ear off. You didn’t even think he listened to you, let alone remember what you talked about to him. 

“Thank you so much, Stevie!” You smile widely as you take a step closer to him. You rise to your tippy toes and grab onto his shoulder as you press your lips to his cheek, pecking it softly. 

Steve freezes. He tenses up. Not because he didn’t like it but because he did. He liked it. He liked the feeling of your lips on his skin. A little too much. 

You pull away and brush past him when you notice Nancy coming out of the store, carrying two bags. You leave him standing with glowing cheeks. 

The need to escape takes over and despite feeling like his feet are glued to the ground, he forces himself to make his way towards the RV, ignoring the racing in his chest. 

He walks past Eddie but not without sending a glare towards him. He reaches into the basket, and picks out the grey beanie, throwing it at the metalhead without a single word. 

Eddie catches it before it hits him in the face. A loud snicker falls from his mouth when he realizes why Steve is so salty and why his cheeks are like the color of a ripe tomato. He follows him. Of course he does. Eddie sees the perfect opportunity. 

“Thanks for that, man.” Eddie holds up the beanie. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Steve grumbles under his breath. He throws the door open to the RV and steps inside. Dropping the basket on the table, he starts taking out the cans of food he found and starts stacking them up in the cabinets. 

Eddie leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“What were you two doing out there?” Steve asks after two minutes of silence. 

“Had a little snowball fight.” That is an exaggeration, and he knows it, but he wants to see Steve’s reaction. “And then we fell.” 

Eddie can’t see his face. Steve’s back is turned to him as he fills up the cabinets. Though he can see how he tenses up and falters a little. 

“Right…” Steve scoffs. “She fell on your lap?” 

There it is. Eddie is surprised; that was quick. 

He doesn’t bother hiding his snickering. He pushes himself off the wall and moves up beside him, tilting his head at the former jock. He smiles smugly when he sees the clenched jaw. 

“Is that jealousy, Big Boy?” 

Steve narrows his eyes at him. He grips the edges of the counter and slowly turns to face him. 

“I’m just…–”

“You’re just what, Steve? Jealous?” Eddie cackles, enjoying this far more than he should. He raises his hand up and places it on Steve’s chest, patting it roughly. “Don’t worry, man. She is all yours, I promise.” 

Steve huffs and he shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak. 

“Yellow is her favorite color huh? I didn’t know that. You didn’t either, she didn’t even tell you–”

“Stop.” Steve sighs. He brings his hand up to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. The tension in his shoulders rises when he realizes the weight of Eddie’s words. Deep down he knows he is right, he knows it. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to admit it. He fears it. He can’t have those feelings. He can’t allow himself to care more than he does right now. He knows where this will end – how it almost ended a few weeks ago. If he allows these feelings, if he lets them out only for something to happen… he will never recover. 

The smug look on Eddie’s face falls when he realizes the seriousness of this situation as he reads the look on his face. 

Steve is holding back. He is holding back out of fear, not realizing that this could potentially make everything so much worse. 

“Steve…” Eddie sighs as his hand moves to grip his shoulder. “I know what you’re trying to do here–”

“Don’t.” Steve warns him. Like he doesn’t want to hear it, like he doesn’t want to even consider his words. “Just don’t, Munson.” 

He couldn’t even finish the sentence. He couldn’t even utter a single word and it frustrated him a little but he also understands it. 

“Fine…” Eddie sighs, and he lets his hand fall back to his side. 

Steve takes a deep breath. He runs his fingers through the mess of his head. His hair got so long in the past few months. The past self of him would be mortified at the sight of him now. 

Steve glances at Eddie. He can’t stand the sympathetic look in his dark eyes. He doesn’t want to be pitied. 

“You know what you need–”

Steve rolls his eyes and he pulls back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I said don’t–”

“Hear me out, will you?” Eddie mumbles in annoyance. He rolls his eyes back at him and turns around, opening the cabinet where you have put all the special things. He reaches for the bottle. A grin spreads on his face before he turns around. He holds it up with a wiggle of his brows. 

Steve shakes his head, “nope.”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nods and by the look of his determined face, Steve knows he will lose this argument. “You gotta let loose a little. Swallow those feelings down with a little help of my former best friend.” Eddie grins at the whiskey bottle. 

Steve sighs. 

“We’ll play a little drinking game… and who knows, maybe we’ll find out some dirty truths from your girl's past.” Eddie cackles. 

“She’s not my–”

The door bursts open and you come rushing in, carrying one of the bags you grabbed off Nancy’s shoulder. You halt in your tracks and look between them. The frustrated gaze in Steve’s eyes and the excited one in Eddie’s tells you everything you need to know. 

Nancy comes stumbling in behind you. 

Eddie turns towards you, smirking at the two of you as he holds up the whiskey bottle. 

“Wanna play a game?” 

-

The fire keeps you brittle warm, allowing your cheeks to burn a little. The cold doesn’t even touch you right now, you’re so close to the heat. The bowl of soup is warm in your hands. You keep glancing towards Steve as you watch him eat. 

Eddie is rambling his ear off about DnD, something Steve couldn’t care less about. He keeps humming and grumbling in response. 

Nancy had already finished her dinner. She is rubbing her hands over the fire, warming herself up. 

You found a little hidden spot, behind trees and ruins, allowing you to let the flames burn higher than usual. Allowing you to feel a little more comfortable. You did a perimeter check with Steve before dinner, and he demanded to do it slowly for you, and this area seemed pretty safe and clean. 

“So… how about some good ‘ol never have I ever?” Eddie smirks as he picks up the bottle of whiskey he carried outside before. 

Your eyes light up. The urge to let loose, even if just for one night, for a few hours is so big. You nod at him, putting your now empty bowl on the ground beside your feet. 

“Yes, please!” 

Nancy chuckles at the enthusiastic smile on your face. Eddie’s eyes lock with hers and she shrugs at him, mumbling “sure.” 

Eddie grins at her, knowing she wouldn’t have given in so easily in the past. She sure has changed. 

He looks at Steve last to find him staring at you. Eddie knows that he is curious, it’s in his eyes. 

“I’m not drinking—“

“Oh come on!” Eddie groans, throwing his head back.

“If I am willing to drink then you gotta do it too, Steve!” Nancy says, shrugging at him. 

“Someone’s gotta stay sober.”

“Not like we’re gonna get blackout drunk, man. Besides the area is safe—“

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “You can never know.”

“Steve…” You sigh, pulling the attention on you. You tilt your head to the side, pouting at him. “Please…”

Steve huffs softly. 

Your features, your skin, your hair look so soft in this light. The golden flames make you look even more beautiful. Something flutters in his chest when you bat your eyelashes at him. 

He breathes in shakily, and by the way Eddie snickered beside him, he knows he heard it. 

Steve clears his throat as he shakes his head. 

“You’re not drinking either, Sunshine. You’re still coming down from your sickness and you’re still on pain meds.” He says sternly. 

Now your frown and your pout deepens. Your stomach sinks a little and the excitement wears off instantly. 

“Oh… right.” You whisper. 

Steve watches the way your face falls and your shoulders slump. A saddening look flashes in your features. He is surprised to see you giving up so easily, he expected you to put up a bit of a fight. 

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs. He didn't think about it either. 

You sigh deeply. You look between all of them and straighten your back again. 

“You can still play!” 

Steve can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt bubbling up inside of him. He saw how excited you were when Eddie suggested the game. 

“Hold on,” Steve mumbles as he pushes himself up from his seat. He disappears into the RV, making you all frown in confusion. You hear some rustling, some cans moving around before he comes out again, holding a can of Dr. Pepper in his hand. He makes his way to you, lips curling into a small smile. He holds it out for you. “I know it’s not the same but… you– we can still play.” 

You stare at the red soda can in his hand. Your soft eyes light up as you look up at him. 

His throat bobs when he swallows nervously. His heart skips yet another beat as he looks down into your eyes. 

Steve couldn’t care less about the game. If it wasn’t for you, he would call it a day and go to sleep. 

“Yeah,” he whispers softly. 

You are both unaware of the eye contact Nancy and Eddie are holding. To the looks on their faces and of the mischief crossing Eddie’s face as he grabs the plastic cups he had already prepared before. He unscrews the lid and pours the whiskey. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you take the soda from Steve’s hands. Blush rises to your cheeks and your hand warms even more when your fingers brush against his own. 

Steve only smiles at you before he makes his way back to his seat. He curls his fingers into his hand, clenching it tightly as he still feels the mark of your touch. A sigh leaves his mouth when he sinks back into his camping chair. 

Eddie holds the cup out to him, and Steve only accepts it reluctantly. 

“Don’t think too much,” Eddie says to him. “It’s gonna be good for you, trust me.” 

“If you say so.” Steve snorts as he accepts the cup. He can’t remember the last time he even smelled alcohol. 

A pop sounds through the circle as you open the can. You bring your knees up to your chest and tug the blanket tighter around you, getting comfortable as giddiness rushes through your body. This reminds you of high school… only this is even better. You’re around friends. 

Eddie puts the bottle back down after handing Nancy her cup. He leans back and looks around the circle, smirking at Steve – the latter already knowing that this means nothing good. 

“So…” Eddie starts, wiggling his eyebrows. “Who’s starting?”

Steve sinks deeper into his seat, he looks down at his drink, sloshing it around in the cup. 

“Never have I ever played DnD.” Nancy says, making both you and Steve chuckle. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as he brings the cup up to his lips. 

“You’re doing me a favor here, Wheeler.” 

Before he can even down the drink like he had planned to do, Steve leans forward and grabs Eddie’s wrist, “hold on. You ain’t downing that drink. We’re not in high school going home safe after. Doesn’t matter how safe this area seems to you, we’re still in the middle of nowhere… during the goddamn end of the world. We’re taking sips, not shots.” 

Steve’s face is stern as he lectures Eddie, who looks like a kid getting scolded by his father. 

You can’t help but giggle. 

“Okay, dad.” Eddie mumbles with wide eyes. “Sips, not shots, got it.” 

Nancy laughs at their interaction. 

Eddie takes a sip, keeping his eyes on Steve, who watches him closely, warning him with his eyes. 

“See.” Eddie shows him the cup. “I just took a sip.” 

“Good.” Steve grumbles before he leans back into his seat. 

Eddie turns back to Nancy, grinning evilly. “Alright Wheeler. Never have I ever… gotten straight A’s in high school.” 

A groan falls from her lips, she rolls her eyes at his lame attempt at making her drink. She brings the cup up to her lips and takes a sip. 

Steve glances at you, expecting you to take a sip as well but you don’t. Your can remains propped up on your knees. 

“No A’s?” Eddie raises his brows at you. “I’m surprised.” 

You shrug. “The best I got were B’s.” 

“Something I could only ever dream of.”

Nancy rolls her eyes at him again, “you were just lazy, Eddie.” 

“Are you saying I’m smart, Nancy Wheeler?” He smirks at her. 

“I’m saying you could have been better, dumbass.” 

Eddie waves her off and looks between you and Steve, “who’s next?”

Steve shrugs and gestures to you, holding his cup. 

You blush a little when he flashes you a smile. You tug your blanket tighter to you and look back into the fire. 

“Um… never have I ever…” You pause, trying to think of something you have always wanted to do. “Gone on a picnic date…?”

Eddie sits still, not bringing the cup up to his lips. Steve is not drinking either. The three of you glance at each other before you all look towards Nancy, who is the only one to take a sip of the whiskey. She scrunches up her face at the bitter taste. 

A sullen look takes over her face and if you didn’t look close enough, you would have missed the way her eyes flashed with sadness before she took that sip. She breathes in sharply and clears her throat before she plasters a smile onto her face as she looks back to you. 

“You have never gone on a picnic date?” 

Steve glances at you too with curious eyes. 

You shake your head. You always wanted to go but no one ever asked you out. Your ex-boyfriend always told you that he wasn’t a fan of date nights – must have been because he was too busy taking other girls out. 

Steve’s chest pains a little at the saddened look on your face. 

“No, but anyways… It’s your turn, Steve!” 

Steve blinks as he stares at you, your eyes now gazing into his. His cheeks flush under the weight of your eyes. He shifts on his chair. 

“Uh…” He can’t focus when you look at him, especially with that little tilt in your head and the innocent eyes. He looks down, at the crackling wood and the golden flames. His heart skipping a little harder. This is ridiculous. “Never have I ever uh…” 

What stupid thing would Robin say? 

What silly line would escape her mouth? 

“Been arrested…?”

Eddie chuckles loudly beside him. “See for someone who doesn’t want me to get drunk, you sure are doing a bad job, Harrington.” He laughs before he takes a big sip of his whiskey. 

You gasp and lean forward, “how, when, where, why?” You ramble. 

Steve’s shoulders shake when laughter escapes him at the look on your face. The wide eyes and the dropped jaw. 

“Oh, Sweetheart…” Eddie trails off. “I got arrested several times.”

“For what!?” 

“For being an idiot!” Nancy chuckles. She witnessed it herself once, Hopper running after a handcuffed Eddie who somehow managed to escape before he was forced into the cop car. 

“Then Jonathan must’ve been an idiot too!” Eddie scoffs. “Didn’t you get arrested with him!?” 

She shakes her head at him, “nope. I just went to the station with him.” 

You don’t notice the way Steve looks away, awkwardly and tense at the current conversation. 

“Why are you all getting arrested!?” You ask, confused. 

Nancy shrugs at you. 

You glance at Steve and raise your eyebrows at him, “did you get arrested too?” 

He purses his lips and shakes his head, “nope. Always managed to get away before the cops were at the crime scene.” He jokes. 

You roll your eyes at him but chuckle softly. 

“So I’m friends with a bunch of criminals, is that it?” You joke.

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nods his head, making his curls bounce. “Bet you’re the worst of us all though.” He points his finger at you. 

You press your palm against your chest, humming. “Cold blooded killer, you said it before.” You joke, looking at him seriously. 

“Exactly.” 

The game continues and the lines get sillier as Eddie keeps refilling the cups with Whiskey. You notice how the tension in Steve’s shoulders disappears after a few bigger sips of the liquor, how the redness in his cheeks glows stronger beneath the orange hues of the campfire. Your heart flutters every time his eyes flash with amusement, with happiness. Every time his laughter echoes, you feel something in you heating up in a way it never has before. 

For a moment, the world out there is gone. It’s just the four of you, being normal people. You aren’t out here trying to survive. You aren’t out here surrounded by death. You aren’t out here barely pushing through this world. Right now, you can be a group of friends having fun… just that. And you enjoy it so much. You have never felt more welcomed than you do with them. 

Nancy’s eyes shine with tears of laughter as Eddie continues his story of the girl who threw up on his shoes when he tried flirting with her. His goal was to ask her out on a date, not realizing that she was fully drunk until it was too late. 

“God… why do you always have the lamest dating stories, Munson?” Steve laughs, blinking away his own tears. 

“That poor girl! She must have been so embarrassed!” You mumble, trying not to giggle as much. 

“Sweetheart, I threw up right after. We were both embarrassed.” 

You break into laughter again, though your face cringes in disgust at the image of it in your head. 

“Did you ever see her again, after?” Steve asks, his lips twitching as he tries to stop laughing. 

“Yeah, in the school hallway. It was awkward as hell.” Eddie admits with wide eyes. 

“God…” Nancy mumbles, amused. She leans back and tilts her head up, looking up into the sky with a lazy smile on her lips. 

“Yeah…” Eddie chuckles to himself as he looks into the fire. His finger traces the rim of his cup. 

For a moment, silence takes over. Only the crackling of the wood is heard around you. You watch the flames too, contentment filling you. 

You don’t notice his eyes on you or the way they scan your face, the way they look at you. You don’t realize that he is smiling or that his eyes are sparkling. If only you looked up. 

“Never have I ever had sex.” Eddie snorts, knowing he will make everyone drink this time. 

“Of course,” Nancy snorts and straightens up in her seat again, bringing the cup to her lip, she finishes the remains of her whiskey. 

Steve rolls his eyes as he follows suit, finishing the last bit of his drink. He turns to face you and a frown appears on his face. 

Eddie notices the look on his face when he has taken the biggest gulp of the night. 

You avoid their eyes, blushing furiously as you continue to stare into the fire. Your shoulders, your whole body is tense. Embarrassment is written all over your face. You sit still. The soda can frozen in your lap. You haven’t taken a single sip and you don’t plan on taking one as your fingers play with the loose string on your blanket. 

Steve’s eyes widen when the realization hits him. 

Oh. 

Nancy’s lips part in surprise, her eyes soften when she sees just how flustered you are. 

Eddie is the last to realize but when he does, he nearly chokes on the whiskey. He gulps down and coughs a little. Bringing his hand up to his chest as his wide eyes search for yours. 

“You… You’re a virgin, Sweetheart?” He gasps, knowing he should be approaching the topic a little more gently but he is too shocked, too intoxicated to let that rational voice in his head tell him what to do. 

Eddie is flabbergasted. 

And Steve… Steve’s eyes are filled with confusion and disbelief. His heart is pounding in his chest. How?  

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry but… how?”

Eddie asks the question that repeats itself in Steve’s mind. 

You bite your lip and look at him, avoiding Steve’s eyes. You feel too embarrassed. 

“You’re not fucking with us, are you?” Eddie squints his eyes, finding it hard to believe. 

“Nope.” 

“But… You said you had a boyfriend!” Those words come tumbling out of Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie’s and Nancy’s heads snap towards him. This is something they didn’t know about you. 

You roll your eyes and huff, “just because I had a boyfriend doesn’t mean that I slept with him. Besides… that was the exact reason why he told me I was immature… the exact reason why he cheated on me.” You mumble, looking down. 

Steve’s eyes harden at that. His chest burns with rage over that prick that was given the chance to date you only to fuck you over. 

Nancy leans forward, her protectiveness kicking in, shooting off the roof. 

“He cheated on you because you weren’t ready to sleep with him?” She scoffs, slurring her words a bit. Her blue eyes burn with anger for someone she doesn’t even know. “What– Men! Men fucking suck!” 

You smile a little. 

Eddie moves closer and pats Nancy’s back. 

“Hey, not all of us are bad,” Eddie chuckles. 

Steve looks down at his cup. His heart aches at the thought of how you felt back then. He knows your heart was crushed and you were devastated. You don’t have to tell him that for him to know. 

“I hope he died. Gruesomely. Fucked in the ass by an infected–”

You crack up at her words. The tension slips away as amusement takes over and you and Eddie start laughing loudly at her. 

Steve leans forward, he puts the empty cup down and presses his palms together, entwining his fingers. He glances at you, his eyes tracing your features while you are distracted. 

“So uh… nothing?” Eddie asks after your laughter dies down. His curiosity gets the best of him. His eyes keep glancing towards Steve to catch his reactions. 

You shake your head shyly. 

Nancy eyes you, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable talking about this. 

“No… It’s not like I don’t have the need…” You admit, surprising yourself even. But you feel safe talking about this, comfortable. Like you won’t get judged. “I mean– I had my own you know…”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, playing coy, playing dumb. 

Steve straightens up a bit, nerves growing wild inside of him as he stares at you. 

Eddie bows his head a little. “No? I know what?”

You avoid Steve’s eyes still. Heat rises to your cheeks, not from the fire but from the embarrassment inside of you. From talking about this in front of the guy you… you like. 

You blink. Tapping your fingers against your knee. 

“A helper…?”

Eddie almost bursts into laughter. He enjoys seeing you like this. He enjoys the way Steve is cracking his knuckles beside him, shifting on his chair. 

Nancy licks her lips, holding back her smile when she realizes what he is doing, when she realizes how red Steve’s cheeks are. 

Frustration bubbles up inside of you when you notice the mischief flashing in Eddie’s brown eyes. 

“For fucks sake! A vibrator! A fucking vibrator!” 

Nancy giggles loudly beside you. She is definitely gonna bring that up later. 

Steve nearly falls over. His heart almost beats out of his chest. His eyes are glued on you. Heat spreads across his whole body and before he can even stop it, images start cursing through his mind. Images of you… of you on your bed, of your hands on your body, on your bare body that he had seen already. The realization strikes that he was the first to see you like this, to touch your soft skin, to hold you. 

Suddenly his heart does more than just flutter. 

Eddie smirks at you. His shoulders shake. 

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure it was that.” 

You roll your eyes at him. 

“You fucking dick!”

Nancy and he chuckle at you, sharing amused glances. 

“Now…” You start after a moment of silence. “I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, and I regret not giving my virginity to my ex…” You admit a little shamefully. 

The three of them look at you in question. 

“Why do you say it won’t?” Steve asks. 

You chuckle softly and shrug as you look up at Steve, “look around us, Steve. It’s the end of the world… I could die tomorrow and I think it’s obvious to say that the chances of finding someone in the apocalypse are pretty scarce.” 

They all fall silent, looking at you with pity – something that you don’t want, something that you hate. 

But they notice that you are actually afflicted by it. 

Eddie narrows his eyes, shifting in his seat. He looks at Steve, noticing the way he watches you intently. A sliver of yearning in his hazel eyes. 

If he doesn’t take the chance… 

Eddie clears his throat. Licking his lips, he looks back at you. 

“Listen, if I didn’t have my sweetheart, I’d offer to make your first time the best night of your life,” he says cockily. A smirk tugging at his lips when he feels Steve’s angry eyes on him. 

You don’t even pay much attention to his comment. You nearly give yourself a whiplash by how fast you turn towards him. 

“You have a sweetheart!? Wait! Are you talking about your guitar? You showed me pictures of it and–”

“Of course not my guitar!” Eddie interrupts you, grinning. “I have my love waiting for me in California!”

Your eyes lighten up and you sit up straighter, curious to hear about his love story. 

But Steve and Nancy roll their eyes and groan. 

“Don’t listen to him, he never wanted to tell us… so obviously he is bluffing.” Nancy murmurs. “If he had a sweetheart we would have known about her or him!” 

Eddie scoffs, though the smile on his face doesn’t disappear, instead it grows even wider. 

“Honestly Nancy… If I were really single, I would have tried my luck with this young lady I have in front of me the moment I saw her. She’s funny and sweet and she’s hot as hell. Who wouldn’t try to make a move on that piece of ass?” 

Your eyes widen, and you instantly grow flustered, cheeks burning like crazy. 

The bitter taste on Steve’s tongue returns and he can’t even hide his frown this time when he looks at the metalhead beside him, only to realize that he fell right into his trap. Eddie is already looking back at him with a smug smirk on his face. 

Nancy is watching you, how you flush all over while you sip your soda. She holds back her smile, thinking that it’s cute. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I see you as nothing more than a friend.” He makes the message very clear… to Steve. 

Yet, it does little to calm him down. The same sour feeling as he felt before spreads through his chest. 

Silence fills the space around you for a moment and the air suddenly shifts. You don’t know what it is yet. You don’t notice the look on Nancy’s face and how the amusement slowly fades as the alcohol kicks in differently, affecting other kinds of emotions now. 

“Well.” Eddie looks around, clapping his hands together. “Anyone else got a confession to make?”

Steve shakes his head just like you. 

Nancy hesitates. A sullen look suddenly takes over, crossing over her features out of nowhere. She blinks rapidly as she stares into the fire, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“I love Robin.” 

You slowly look towards her, unlike Eddie who snaps his head into her direction, looking at her in surprise. 

But Steve, he already knew, well– he suspected it. He knew about Robin’s feelings. He knew that she fell in love with Nancy. He remembers how guilty she looked when she confessed to him, fearing that he would hate her for falling in love with his ex-girlfriend. He remembers how scared she was, how she looked at him, like she thought that she was about to lose her best friend. He hugged her then and promised that it was okay. His love for Nancy was in the past and it was never real love to begin with, nothing to mourn over. Puppy love. And the thing that happened back in ‘86 was nothing more than a moment of desperation to feel the only real thing he once thought he had. 

Eddie’s smile slowly fades, lips curling downwards as he stares at Nancy’s glossy eyes. She is his best friend but it’s something he didn’t know. It’s something she wasn’t ready to confess. To speak into the universe. To let out. 

“She… She confessed to me. She told me that she loves me… that she’s in love with me. And then she died…on the same day.” She whispers and bows her head to hide the tears that are about to slip down her cheeks. 

Steve breathes in shakily, he looks away and closes his eyes. 

“I never said it back.”

Your heart breaks for her. She kept it all to herself for such a long time, it must have been eating away at her. Her sniffles pains you even more. You lean forward and place your hand on her knee. 

“Shit…” Eddie whispers, staring at her with sad eyes as the realization slowly sinks in. “I didn’t know, Nance.”

“Yeah…” She whispers, not looking up just yet. “And now… I can never say it back.”

You don’t know what to say. Eddie doesn’t either. You’re both not even sure if words are what she needs or if she just needs to let this all out. 

“I-I honestly never made a move on her before that because I thought she hated me…” She confesses, talking without a filter now. Her emotions take control, guided by the alcohol in her system. 

You frown at her words, gripping her knee tighter as you try to see her face but it’s covered by her long hair. 

“Why would she hate you, Nancy?” 

Eddie looks between you both, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Because of what I did to Steve.” She whispers, slowly looking up at you. 

Anxiety builds up inside of you and you begin to feel nervous. 

“W-What did you do to Steve?”

Steve snaps his head towards the two of you, shaking his head with a panicked look on his face. “Nancy–”

“I cheated on him. Hurt him. I thought Robin would hardly forgive someone like that. That Robin wouldn’t even like someone that did that to her best friend… Even if that happened a long time ago…”

Steve closes his eyes with a sigh, murmuring a quiet ‘fuck’.

Eddie winces under his breath. 

You draw back instantly, your hand falling off her knee. You take in a sharp breath. The realization rushing through you coldly. You grip the soda can tighter and look down. 

Nancy was the girl he told you about. 

She was the one who hurt him, who broke his heart. 

All this time you have been traveling with them and you didn’t even know. 

You feel like a fool. 

And it’s sadness and insecurity that hits you the hardest. She was the girl. And you are nothing like her, not even in the slightest. 

Steve looks up at you slowly. He tries to catch a glimpse of your face but it’s tilted so far down.

You don’t know what to feel, what to think. 

How can he be around her? You’d never be able to travel with your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you, lied to you, acted like he loved you. You could never be around him, let alone be his friend… unless you still loved him. 

Suddenly it’s nausea that bubbles up. Your heart sinks to your stomach. And now you wonder, would you have known sooner if you just put two and two together? If you would have taken a closer look? 

“I never knew.” Eddie murmurs, patting her back. 

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Nancy whispers. “A-And that’s all… that’s all I got to confess. What about you…? Do you have anything…?”

You suddenly feel suffocated and you no longer want to sit here in this circle. It’s all become too much and all these questions running through your head begin to drive you crazy. You want to be alone. You need to think. 

You clear your throat as you get up, picking up your discarded bowl from before and your empty soda can. You take a quick look around and force a smile on your face when Nancy looks up at you with her big eyes. 

“I’m gonna go to sleep. I’m tired and my head is starting to hurt again.” You lie. You avoid both Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. 

“Oh.” Nancy mumbles, her shoulders slumping. 

“Good night.” You whisper before you brush past Steve, ignoring the way he looks up at you in concern. You quickly make your way into the RV and shut the door behind you before any of them can question you. 

You set everything down on the kitchen counter. Gripping the edges of it, you lean against it and close your eyes, sighing loudly. 

You are confused and shocked, not understanding how it all went over your head for months. You could have known sooner. You should have. You wish you did. 

A part of you wants to know more, the other part doesn’t. 

You clean up your bowl and put everything away before you make your way into the tiny bathroom to brush your teeth. You hurry, wanting to be asleep before anyone comes in to check on you. 

Not even the mint flavor of your toothpaste can get rid of the bitter taste on your tongue though. 

“Sunshine?” 

You almost groan in annoyance. Almost. You would have if it wasn’t him. You spit out the paste and rinse your mouth before you walk out. You plaster a smile on your face when you notice him standing by the kitchen counter. 

He offers you a smile, “I uh… are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

Your eyes soften. You press your lips together and shake your head, “no, I just… I wanna get some sleep.” 

He brings his hand up to the back of his neck as he nods, “alright…”

You don’t move and neither does he. 

Steve is so selfless. He’s so kind and sweet when he allows himself to be. He would do anything for his friends, showing you that he would do absolutely everything for the one he loves. There is not a single bad thing about him. So… how could she do this to him? 

“I’m–”

“So Nancy…” 

Steve can’t read the expression on your face nor can he figure out the emotion in your voice but if he didn’t know any better, he would think it is hurt… sadness. But why? 

“Yeah…” Steve whispers. 

He doesn’t know why he feels the urge to show you, to tell you that he doesn’t feel anything for Nancy, that he hasn’t felt anything for her in years, that he could never again. 

You swallow harshly and nod. You take a seat on the bench and he follows you after a second, sitting down beside you. 

“Do you…” You pause, not knowing if you’re actually ready to find out. 

“I don’t love her anymore if that’s what you think.” Steve confesses, wanting – needing you to know. 

He wishes he could ignore the way your shoulders slump in relief or the way your eyes fill with something that looks like hope. 

“No?”

He shakes his head, “no. It was uh… It was puppy love but not real love, if it makes sense?” 

“Oh.”

Steve takes a deep breath. He continues to look into your eyes, wanting to catch each and every one of your reactions. 

“It was the first time someone else… cared for me. That someone seemed to like me for me and not because I was this popular guy… I only knew loneliness thanks to my parents being complete assholes.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as though you’re in pain. The sympathy and the sadness the flashes in your eyes reminds him of Robin. 

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, swallowing the lump that grew in his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You frown, knowing how that ended for him. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine.” He shrugs, his whisper is soft. 

How could she look into his hazel eyes and not fall for him harder every day? How could she look at him and think that he wasn’t good enough? That there could be someone better out there? How could she look at him and not think that he was the best thing that’s ever happened to her? 

There is little distance between you and your hand finds his before you can even think rationally. 

Steve looks down at it. It’s not the first time he feels your touch like this. It’s also not the first time he feels that electric feeling cursing through him. 

“But then… Robin came.”

“Wait then… you for Robin–”

“God, no, no…” Steve shakes his head, interrupting you quickly. “She just… She just filled that loneliness, and it made me realize that I was just chasing Nancy… pretending to be in love… Just to noy feel alone again…” He explains, cringing a little. “And then, Robin kind of started dating this girl, and I felt that bit of bitterness inside of me cause she was spending a little less time with me.” 

You nod in understanding as he keeps talking. 

“I tried dating around as well… But nothing worked out, no one wanted me for anything other than sex.” 

You frown at his words, feeling anger and a sliver of jealousy burning in you. 

“So I kind of… set my eyes back on Nancy again, not because I still loved her but… She was just the closest thing I had to a ‘real’ relationship. It was dumb to chase her again, to go after someone who hurt me. It took me a moment to realize that there are other versions of love that can be fulfilling.” 

“Robin.” 

He gives you a small smile, tapping your hand with his finger. He eyes the lilac hair tie around your wrist. It’s yours now. For safekeeping. 

“Robin.” He nods. 

He stopped seeking her out when he let go of a love he thought was… love. Maybe it should calm you down a little but it doesn’t. 

“And now… that Robin is… gone?”

He knows what you’re asking. 

You want to know if he will do it again, if he will chase after her again. 

Steve shakes his head, humming. “I would never make that mistake again,” he chuckles, cringing at his younger self. “Besides, I don’t feel lonely.”

“Oh… Eddie and Nance?” You ask. 

You secretly hope that you are the reason for that he doesn’t feel lonely anymore. 

“No, I felt lonely with them too. I was… grumpy, remember?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow as his eyes flash with amusement. 

You shake your head, “then what–”

“You came.” He confesses. 

And it makes your heart flutter like crazy. Your eyes fill with so much hope. You straighten up and curl your hand around his as you gaze into his hazel eyes. 

“You are… as stubborn as Robin was.” He whispers. “You remind me of her.” 

Oh… 

And then it hits you. 

It hits you harder than anything else ever has before. 

He never liked you for you. 

He gave you a chance because you reminded him of the one person that meant everything to him. He gave you a chance because he saw her in you, because he could pretend. 

You were never to him what he is to you. 

You are a replacement. A placeholder. 

And here you thought you found someone who likes you for you. 

But of course not. 

How did you never see it? Every time he talked about Robin, every time that he mentioned a memory, and– His eyes, they are looking at your wrist. At the hair tie, and– It was him… he put that on you, and now you knew. This wasn’t just anyone’s hair tie… this was Robin’s.

Your hand slowly slips away from his, looking down at the floor. You caught feelings only to find out that he saw you as a replacement for his soulmate. For someone he thought of as family, as a sister. He sees you that way, he will always see you that way and not as a woman. Not as someone who can try to give the love he wants and needs. 

Because you are like Robin�� and you are the opposite of Nancy.

You’ll never be like Nancy. She looks like… a woman, a strong woman that knows what she wants, that is experienced, that is mature, that knows how to handle most of the situations with a clear mind and you– You are reckless, a klutz like Eddie had called you, and you also were–

“You want a kitkat before bed, Sunshine?”

Immature.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx

[heejake-hoon]

Thinking about needy bartender Jungwon who always gives you extra strong drinks, his eyes roving hungrily over your body as he mixes your cocktails with practiced ease

Needy bartender Jungwon who pulls you into the stockroom during his break, roughly pushing you against the shelves and capturing your lips in a searing kiss that tastes of whiskey

Needy bartender Jungwon who drops to his knees, hiking up your skirt and burying his face between your thighs, his talented tongue lapping at your folds like you're the most intoxicating drink he's ever tasted

Needy bartender Jungwon who fingerfucks you to a quick orgasm, muffling your cries with his other hand as the bar bustles just outside the thin door, the thrill of almost being caught making you clench around his digits

Needy bartender Jungwon who bends you over a stack of crates, yanking down your panties and plunging into you without warning, both of you groaning at the exquisite feeling of him stretching you wide

Needy bartender Jungwon who sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours as he fucks you raw, the sound of skin slapping skin barely covered by the muffled music from the bar

Needy bartender Jungwon who reaches around to rub your clit furiously, determined to make you come again before he loses control, his breath hot on your neck as he whispers filthy words in your ears

Needy bartender Jungwon who feels you tightening around him and increases his tempo, driving into you with abandon as you both chase your release, the rickety crates creaking beneath you

Needy bartender Jungwon who pulls out at the last second, painting your ass and lower back with thick ropes of cum as he groans your name, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm

Needy bartender Jungwon who helps you clean up quickly, a mischievous glint in his eye as he promises to mix you a special "off-menu" cocktail later, just for you

Needy bartender Jungwon who can't keep his hands off you for the rest of the night, constantly brushing against you as he serves drinks, his touch lingering longer each time

Needy bartender Jungwon who pulls you into the bathroom after last call, lifting you onto the sink and dropping to his knees once more, eager to taste you again

Needy bartender Jungwon who makes you ride his face, his strong hands gripping your thighs as you grind against his talented mouth, your fingers tangled in his hair

Needy bartender Jungwon who stands and enters you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely as you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper

Needy bartender Jungwon who fucks you with long, deep strokes, hitting all the right spots as he whispers how tight and perfect you feel around him

Needy bartender Jungwon who increases his pace, pounding into you relentlessly as you both near your climax, the mirror behind you fogging up from your heated exertions

Needy bartender Jungwon who feels you clenching around him and lets go, spilling deep inside you with a guttural moan, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself

Needy bartender Jungwon who helps you down on shaky legs, already planning how he's going to take you again on the pool table before you leave for the night

A.N: idk if you'd like this format (i wrote almost something like this for all the members (and a fluffy one for Riki) but m not that sure about them), also wrote this at 5 am (again! cause my sleep schedule is pretty fucked up m just gonna kms) so it's not proofread and i'd probably wake up and regret posting this (plz i've been super insecure about my writing these days i can't bring myself to post anything😭😭). Anyways let me guys know how you like this and if i should add some dirty talk in it for the other members or not.