Summary: The sun was slowly setting on a brisk evening, casting a golden-orange glow over the bustling streets. The air was crisp and cool, signalling the beginning of autumn, and the leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of auburn. You met her that fall evening, and fell in love that October. Warm sunlight elapsed your memories and your love story with Makima and it all felt like a dream, until it erupted into a nightmare. The phrase "separating the artist from the art" is one that dates back long ago. Both the art and the artist can be seen as their own entities; yet, the artist has the control and power to destroy that oeuvre.
A/N: finished this oneshot. was shorter then i expected it to be but that’s alright. as always, i’ve been occupied with school and work and volunteering and just…life.
WORD COUNT // 3209 words
The sun was slowly setting on a brisk evening, casting a golden-orange glow over the bustling streets. The air was crisp and cool, signaling the beginning of autumn, and the leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of auburn.
The streets were packed with people going about their daily business. Groups of students hurried home after their after-school activities and cram school, their backpacks slung over their shoulders and their uniforms crumpled from a long day of studying and play.
Workers in suits walked with purpose, their briefcases in hand, eager to catch the earliest subway home to their families. Their fatigue expressions spoke of long hours spent in the office, but they soldiered on, determined to make it home to their loved ones.
And amidst the sea of people were others, simply out to get their shopping done before the night fully set in. The bright lights of the shops and neon signs illuminated the streets, beckoning shoppers to come in and browse their wares.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the city transformed. The neon signs grew brighter, casting colorful shadows on the pavement. The streets became livelier, with people pouring out of restaurants and bars, ready to enjoy the night ahead. Despite the crowds and noise, there was a sense of peace and harmony in the air.
Tokyo was a city that never slept, but on this fall evening, it seemed to slow down just enough for everyone to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the changing season.
The multiple chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling of the pet shop also casted a warm, golden glow over the store, giving it an almost magical quality.
The shop was located just a few blocks away from your apartment in the bustling city of Tokyo, and you often found yourself wandering in on lazy evenings to browse the various pet supplies and see the cute cats and dogs. The puppies specifically were your favorite.
Today, you found yourself standing in the soap aisle, surrounded by an array of colorful bottles and containers. You were looking for a special shampoo for your new puppy, a fluffy golden retriever that you had adopted a few weeks ago, disregarding your father's displeasure. The recent adoption makes your dog duo now a trio.
As you scanned the shelves, you noticed a woman with reddish hair knitted in a braid standing a few feet away, examining a bottle of dog shampoo. A brand you recognized. She was dressed in a stylish outfit, a suit that was as sleek as a cats coat, along with a trench coat that didn’t drown her form, yet instead curved it like a cape, all complete with a perfume that smelled so strong, like greek gardens in heaven.
“That brand is rather cheap,” you blurt out. The snobby words escaped your lips unnoticed.
She turned to you with a raised eyebrow, her expression conveying a mix of surprise. “Pardon me?”
You suddenly realized how snobby and rude your comment sounded, that you even spoke at all. You didn't even know this woman, and here you were, making assumptions about her shopping choices. Feeling embarrassed, you cover your face and you quickly tried to backtrack.
“Um - uh, well this is,” you stop yourself from stuttering and clear your throat. “I actually had to return it recently. Both of my retrievers had an…uh,” you lower your voice, “really bad skin infection after using the soup. I just would never recommend it.”
The woman's expression softened slightly, but she still looked a bit guarded. "I understand," she said coolly. “But just because a product is bad doesn’t typically relate to its affordability, does it not?”
You looked down at your purse, feeling shameful. “Ah, slip of the tongue. My apologies. I misspoke.”
As a child of affluent and politically influential parents, you were constantly surrounded by privilege and power. From the lavish parties and exotic vacations to the private schools and exclusive clubs, your life was a far cry from that of the average person. However, despite the obvious perks of your upbringing, you often found yourself feeling like an outsider, rather than fitting in with those around you.
Perhaps it was the fact that you stood out from the crowd with your designer clothes, expensive technology, and sleek cars. Or maybe it was the subtle differences in your upbringing that made you feel out of place, like the way your parents talked about politics over dinner, or the fact that they were always traveling to meet with world leaders and dignitaries. Whatever the reason, you worried that people saw you as snobby or spoiled, simply because of your background. And to be honest, there were times when you felt like those labels were justified, just like now.
The women smiled. “You’re cute.”
Your face instantly burned with embarrassment.
You weren't sure how to respond, and you wondered if she was flirting with you. You looked up shakily from your purse, your eyes then meeting hers. You gasped when you noticed her exotic eyes. They were a striking yellow color, with multiple red rings within them. For a moment, you were mesmerized by their beauty, forgetting your embarrassment and confusion, being hypnotized.
Nevertheless, as the woman's stare became apparent, you realized that you had no idea how to respond to her comment. You stammered out a few awkward words, trying to come up with an explanation for your sudden embarrassment, but nothing feasible came out.
She quirked her head. “Also slip of the tongue. Apologies.”
She then stuck out her hand to you. “I’m Makima. You?”
Your lip quivered as you spoke her name. “Makima…”
The moment you told her your name, you had become hers.
You embarked on your relationship the following October, and it was during that same month that you found yourself falling deeply in love accompanied by autumn weather.
“Moving fast in your relationship”—your father spat. He wasn’t wrong, but you were loving every moment and day under Makima.
You and Makima spent countless evenings together, her walking you down the vibrant streets of Tokyo, discovering hidden gems, and indulging in the city's rich culture. She effortlessly unveiled a side of the city that had eluded you in your privileged upbringing. Not only were the experiences enchanting, but it was Makima herself who drew you closer. Her magnetic aura captivated you from the moment you met. Makima's intelligence, wit, and care for dogs made you constantly crave her company. She destroyed your perspective, forced you to question your assumptions, and told you to embrace the beauty of imperfection.
As your relationship deepened, Makima entrusted you with a secret—she was a devil hunter. Although she didn't reveal the specifics of her career, you knew she held a high position and enjoyed the benefits that came with it, evident in her lifestyle and the numerous dogs under her care. She had a contract with a Devil, but she didn't disclose the details of this arrangement, nor did she want you to be involved in her dangerous work. Respectful of her wishes, you refrained from prying for more information.
Instead, Makima had you to stay at home and keep your relationship separate from her professional life. Since you had never worked before and your parents supported your financial needs, it seemed reasonable for you to take on the responsibility of caring for her pack of dog, along with your two, now in Makima's home. After all, she had generously moved you into her house. You willingly embraced this role and followed Makima's instructions, appreciating the opportunity to contribute in your own way while living under her roof.
Thus each day fell into a rhythm.
Mornings arrived with the stirrings of sunlight, coaxing you from slumber. Always when you woke up, you were alone. In the corner of your eye you would see the bathroom light on underneath the door, where you could hear water running. This signalling Makima getting dressed. She always woke up early before you could register her leaving the bed at all. In order to not disturb her, you would use the guest bathroom.
Then, afterwards, you’d go downstairs and start to prepare breakfast for you and the hoard of dogs, their wagging tails adding cheer to the steaming kitchen. Makima however never ate breakfast at home, despite her waking up early enough to eat, she always left for work without doing so. Subsequently, as plates were made, Makima would come downstairs, to the dogs and your excitement.
Makima, adorned in her immaculate devil hunter suit and trench-coat, would depart early for her duties, her presence exuding confidence and purpose. Before leaving, she would grace you with a tender farewell before sealing it with a kiss. "Be good," she would softly utter as she crossed the threshold. To whom those words were directed remained a mystery—once you pondered if they were intended for your exuberant four-legged friends gathered by the doorway or if, in a strange twist, they were meant for you?
Once Makima embarked on her work and you found yourself confined within the walls of her home, the hours stretching ahead, blank canvases awaiting strokes of purpose from the artist—you the canvas. Yet, a familiar pattern emerged as her absence settled in.
Thoughts, ceaseless and unrestrained, flooded your mind, overwhelming you, akin to a tumultuous storm brewing within. Pondering became second nature, almost synonymous with migraines. Your rumination meandered through various facets of you and Makima’s relationship, occasionally interrupted with words of your father.
Primarily, your thoughts gravitated towards Makima—inevitable, for love held you captive in this home. In her presence, the mental restlessness waned, and your mind found solace in the assurance she exuded. Thinking less was effortless when she was near, her mere existence a balm for your turbulent thoughts. She found your thoughts cute, thoughts worried so much for her sake.
Your relationship continued to winter, and winter was cold and bleak.
"I'm scared," you admit, your voice filled with trepidation.
The reality of Makima's career as a devil hunter was something that had taken a toll on you more than you had initially anticipated. At first, you had been intrigued by her strength and determination, admiring her for her ability to face the darkness of the world you lived in head-on. However, as time passed, you began to see the darker side of her world, and it started to affect you in ways I hadn't imagined. Death seemed to linger around Makima like a shadow, both in her professional and personal life.
The constant threat of powerful devils and dangerous missions weighed heavily on her shoulders, and that weight often spilled over into your relationship. The nights when she returned from a particularly gruelling battle, covered in blood and forsaken things, were nights filled with worry and fear from yourself. You couldn't help but imagine the worst and dread the possibility of losing her.
But it wasn't just the physical dangers that troubled you. No, it was the emotional toll of her work. The secrets she had to keep, the compromises she had to make, and the people she had to sacrifice for the greater good of her cause began to gnaw at your conscience. It amazed you how she kept herself so disciplined and stable despite it all. Work, with its constant demands and unpredictable hours, easily seeped into you and Makima’s home life.
There were nights when she would receive urgent phone calls, forcing her to abandon our plans, which she did with ease. Though you would lie if you said it did not leave you feeling neglected and alone. Alone constantly in this home, lost with your anxieties and thoughts.
Makima raises an eyebrow, her expression curious. "Oh. Scared of what, my dear?”
"I'm scared of…losing you, Makima," you confess, your words laced with vulnerability. "Lately, it feels like our relationship isn't a,” the fear of possibly offending her scared you more than anything, “uh, priority to you.” You used that word carefully.
Makima's gaze intensifies as she considers your words. "So, you believe I should reassess my priorities?” she asked. “And you think you’re a priority? Is that what you’re saying?”When she worded it like that you felt awful and belittled.
You stumble over your words. "I... I mean, we're dating, and... I just want to feel like we matter to each other.” You were sheepish, like a school girl.
Makima held her chin high, looking down at you through her long lashes. "Darling, don't be afraid to express yourself. If that's how you feel, I want to understand.”
You let out a shaky sigh, your voice filled with resignation. "I understand you're busy, Makima. I just don't… want you to stress yourself too much." You force yourself to say these words to please her and in a way, end this.
“Good. I’ll make sure not to.”
The winter winds howled and pounded against the windows, rattling the panes and sending shivers down your already tense spine. The room was bathed in the soft, flickering light of the fireplace, its crackling providing a comforting contrast to the harshness of the outside world and the void that was inside this distant home. The room was in a void of silence until Makima broke it.
"Look at me," she states, her eyes fixed on the book placed in her hands.
For some reason, despite your dismay, you do what she says easily and look into her eyes.
In the corner of your eye, you could see a flicker of understanding passing through Makima's eyes as she reaches out to gently touch your hand. "I hear you," she murmurs softly. "I may have been preoccupied, but I assure you, our relationship matters to me."
A glimmer of hope ignites within you as you meet her gaze fully. "Really?"
She nods, her expression sincere.
As you take in her words, a sense of reassurance washes over you. Perhaps, in this moment of honesty and vulnerability, you and Makima could strengthen your love. “I love you,” you say with no thought but with hope.
Before she could respond to your heartfelt declaration, a familiar tone chimed from her phone, interrupting the moment like a cruel déjà vu. You hold in a resigned sigh as Makima swiftly rose from her seat, reaching for her trench coat and draping around her, shielding her from the unforgiving cold that seemed to have no effect on her. It was a stark reminder that her duty called her away once more, leaving you alone and vulnerable to the haunting thoughts that seemed to shadow your every moment.
With the slam of the door, she disappeared into the night, and you watched her silhouette retreat into the darkness, a sense of loneliness creeping in. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, a feeling you had faintly hoped would change after the discussion you just had, a recurring ache that accompanied her absence. Once again, you found yourself left alone with your thoughts, the crackling fireplace the only company in this wintry night, its warmth unable to completely dispel the chill that had settled deep within you.
Whining, your pack of dogs circled around your dejected figure, their eyes filled with concern, their tails arched down, dejected.
As you sat there, alone, a whisper escaped your lips, barely audible, “I wonder…if I’ve made a mistake.”
Spring had arrived with its characteristics of humidity and warmth and the scent of freshly brewed coffee, but for you, it brought not the promise of new beginnings but the sting of heartbreak.
You had chosen this place for its cozy ambiance, hoping to find comfort in each other's presence. It had been so long since you both had went on a date, after all, Makima was dedicated to her work, and you spent your whole free time, home alone. But as the conversation grew heavier, the air around you seemed to thicken, and the pleasant background noise became a distant murmur.
Makima's words cut through the serene setting like a bolt of lightning. "Let's end things."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing. The gentle clinking of coffee cups and the chatter of other patrons seemed to fade into the background. Your voice trembled as you choked out a bewildered, "What?"
Makima's expression remained cool and detached, as if the weight of her words held no emotion at all. "Yes," she repeated, her voice devoid of tenderness, she rubbed her chin, as if she hadn’t decided already, "we'll end this...relationship."
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break down in the middle of the coffee shop. The woman you loved, who had once meant the world to you, now felt distant and unfeeling.
"Consider this a good deed on my part," she continued, her tone as indifferent as ever. "You were an obedient girlfriend, ______. Be proud."
As her words settled in, you felt a sense of betrayal and loss wash over you. The cozy coffee shop had transformed into a backdrop for your heartbreak, the world around you now irrelevant as you grappled with the end of a love that had once seemed unbreakable. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you couldn't contain the rush of emotions any longer. Your hand moved to cover your face, fingers trembling as you tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The coffee shop around you faded into the background as your grief and sorrow spilled into your trembling hand.
Makima watched you silently, sipping the dark coffee, her gaze unwavering but devoid of any warmth or remorse. In her eyes, this relationship had lost its worth, and she believed that ending it was an act of empathy, sparing you from the emotional decay that had started to seep into your life. Meeting Denji had changed everything for her, and you were left to bear the consequences.
To her, it was a good thing, a release for both of you, though for very different reasons. In her own way, she believed that you had gotten lucky, even if it didn't feel that way in the midst of your heartbreak. She saw it as an act of kindness, despite the undeniable manipulation and use of your emotions. In her eyes, this was her way of sparing you from further deterioration, even if it meant severing the connection that had once meant so much to you.
You knew, deep down, that you would recover from this heartache, that you would eventually find a way to live without Makima. But in that moment, as you wept in the coffee shop, it was hard to see beyond the pain and confusion that had come with the end of a love that had once consumed your heart.
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, classmates to lovers, pining, crushes, eating together, going on dates, love confession, kisses
A/N: Almost time for the next season, I'm so excited man!
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki means you're signing yourself up for endless pining and your classmates cheering you on
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki who doesn't notice you flirting during practice because he figures you're being nice and cheering him on, which he returns but no love confession
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki who looks at you weird when you blush around him, the poor guy things it's the fire side of his Quirk
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki means taking him out on dates before he even realizes he's on a date with you, having thought if it as a friendly outing
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki isn't all pining since he does get protective over you the more time you spend together
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki who always offers you a bite of his food when you're eating together, not seeing how flustered you get when he does so
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki means you get a lot of texts from him late at night but they're not the flirty kind unless you start being flirty first
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki who doesn't see the many times your classmates have left you two alone in hopes something would happen between you two
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki and kissing him on the cheek as a greeting, seeing his cheeks blush pink more often
Crushing on an oblivious Shoto Todoroki until you confess to him and watch him go from confusion to embarrassment to full realization
Summary: The sun was slowly setting on a brisk evening, casting a golden-orange glow over the bustling streets. The air was crisp and cool, signalling the beginning of autumn, and the leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of auburn. You met her that fall evening, and fell in love that October. Warm sunlight elapsed your memories and your love story with Makima and it all felt like a dream, until it erupted into a nightmare. The phrase "separating the artist from the art" is one that dates back long ago. Both the art and the artist can be seen as their own entities; yet, the artist has the control and power to destroy that oeuvre.
A/N: finished this oneshot. was shorter then i expected it to be but that’s alright. as always, i’ve been occupied with school and work and volunteering and just…life.
WORD COUNT // 3209 words
The sun was slowly setting on a brisk evening, casting a golden-orange glow over the bustling streets. The air was crisp and cool, signaling the beginning of autumn, and the leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of auburn.
The streets were packed with people going about their daily business. Groups of students hurried home after their after-school activities and cram school, their backpacks slung over their shoulders and their uniforms crumpled from a long day of studying and play.
Workers in suits walked with purpose, their briefcases in hand, eager to catch the earliest subway home to their families. Their fatigue expressions spoke of long hours spent in the office, but they soldiered on, determined to make it home to their loved ones.
And amidst the sea of people were others, simply out to get their shopping done before the night fully set in. The bright lights of the shops and neon signs illuminated the streets, beckoning shoppers to come in and browse their wares.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the city transformed. The neon signs grew brighter, casting colorful shadows on the pavement. The streets became livelier, with people pouring out of restaurants and bars, ready to enjoy the night ahead. Despite the crowds and noise, there was a sense of peace and harmony in the air.
Tokyo was a city that never slept, but on this fall evening, it seemed to slow down just enough for everyone to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the changing season.
The multiple chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling of the pet shop also casted a warm, golden glow over the store, giving it an almost magical quality.
The shop was located just a few blocks away from your apartment in the bustling city of Tokyo, and you often found yourself wandering in on lazy evenings to browse the various pet supplies and see the cute cats and dogs. The puppies specifically were your favorite.
Today, you found yourself standing in the soap aisle, surrounded by an array of colorful bottles and containers. You were looking for a special shampoo for your new puppy, a fluffy golden retriever that you had adopted a few weeks ago, disregarding your father's displeasure. The recent adoption makes your dog duo now a trio.
As you scanned the shelves, you noticed a woman with reddish hair knitted in a braid standing a few feet away, examining a bottle of dog shampoo. A brand you recognized. She was dressed in a stylish outfit, a suit that was as sleek as a cats coat, along with a trench coat that didn’t drown her form, yet instead curved it like a cape, all complete with a perfume that smelled so strong, like greek gardens in heaven.
“That brand is rather cheap,” you blurt out. The snobby words escaped your lips unnoticed.
She turned to you with a raised eyebrow, her expression conveying a mix of surprise. “Pardon me?”
You suddenly realized how snobby and rude your comment sounded, that you even spoke at all. You didn't even know this woman, and here you were, making assumptions about her shopping choices. Feeling embarrassed, you cover your face and you quickly tried to backtrack.
“Um - uh, well this is,” you stop yourself from stuttering and clear your throat. “I actually had to return it recently. Both of my retrievers had an…uh,” you lower your voice, “really bad skin infection after using the soup. I just would never recommend it.”
The woman's expression softened slightly, but she still looked a bit guarded. "I understand," she said coolly. “But just because a product is bad doesn’t typically relate to its affordability, does it not?”
You looked down at your purse, feeling shameful. “Ah, slip of the tongue. My apologies. I misspoke.”
As a child of affluent and politically influential parents, you were constantly surrounded by privilege and power. From the lavish parties and exotic vacations to the private schools and exclusive clubs, your life was a far cry from that of the average person. However, despite the obvious perks of your upbringing, you often found yourself feeling like an outsider, rather than fitting in with those around you.
Perhaps it was the fact that you stood out from the crowd with your designer clothes, expensive technology, and sleek cars. Or maybe it was the subtle differences in your upbringing that made you feel out of place, like the way your parents talked about politics over dinner, or the fact that they were always traveling to meet with world leaders and dignitaries. Whatever the reason, you worried that people saw you as snobby or spoiled, simply because of your background. And to be honest, there were times when you felt like those labels were justified, just like now.
The women smiled. “You’re cute.”
Your face instantly burned with embarrassment.
You weren't sure how to respond, and you wondered if she was flirting with you. You looked up shakily from your purse, your eyes then meeting hers. You gasped when you noticed her exotic eyes. They were a striking yellow color, with multiple red rings within them. For a moment, you were mesmerized by their beauty, forgetting your embarrassment and confusion, being hypnotized.
Nevertheless, as the woman's stare became apparent, you realized that you had no idea how to respond to her comment. You stammered out a few awkward words, trying to come up with an explanation for your sudden embarrassment, but nothing feasible came out.
She quirked her head. “Also slip of the tongue. Apologies.”
She then stuck out her hand to you. “I’m Makima. You?”
Your lip quivered as you spoke her name. “Makima…”
The moment you told her your name, you had become hers.
You embarked on your relationship the following October, and it was during that same month that you found yourself falling deeply in love accompanied by autumn weather.
“Moving fast in your relationship”—your father spat. He wasn’t wrong, but you were loving every moment and day under Makima.
You and Makima spent countless evenings together, her walking you down the vibrant streets of Tokyo, discovering hidden gems, and indulging in the city's rich culture. She effortlessly unveiled a side of the city that had eluded you in your privileged upbringing. Not only were the experiences enchanting, but it was Makima herself who drew you closer. Her magnetic aura captivated you from the moment you met. Makima's intelligence, wit, and care for dogs made you constantly crave her company. She destroyed your perspective, forced you to question your assumptions, and told you to embrace the beauty of imperfection.
As your relationship deepened, Makima entrusted you with a secret—she was a devil hunter. Although she didn't reveal the specifics of her career, you knew she held a high position and enjoyed the benefits that came with it, evident in her lifestyle and the numerous dogs under her care. She had a contract with a Devil, but she didn't disclose the details of this arrangement, nor did she want you to be involved in her dangerous work. Respectful of her wishes, you refrained from prying for more information.
Instead, Makima had you to stay at home and keep your relationship separate from her professional life. Since you had never worked before and your parents supported your financial needs, it seemed reasonable for you to take on the responsibility of caring for her pack of dog, along with your two, now in Makima's home. After all, she had generously moved you into her house. You willingly embraced this role and followed Makima's instructions, appreciating the opportunity to contribute in your own way while living under her roof.
Thus each day fell into a rhythm.
Mornings arrived with the stirrings of sunlight, coaxing you from slumber. Always when you woke up, you were alone. In the corner of your eye you would see the bathroom light on underneath the door, where you could hear water running. This signalling Makima getting dressed. She always woke up early before you could register her leaving the bed at all. In order to not disturb her, you would use the guest bathroom.
Then, afterwards, you’d go downstairs and start to prepare breakfast for you and the hoard of dogs, their wagging tails adding cheer to the steaming kitchen. Makima however never ate breakfast at home, despite her waking up early enough to eat, she always left for work without doing so. Subsequently, as plates were made, Makima would come downstairs, to the dogs and your excitement.
Makima, adorned in her immaculate devil hunter suit and trench-coat, would depart early for her duties, her presence exuding confidence and purpose. Before leaving, she would grace you with a tender farewell before sealing it with a kiss. "Be good," she would softly utter as she crossed the threshold. To whom those words were directed remained a mystery—once you pondered if they were intended for your exuberant four-legged friends gathered by the doorway or if, in a strange twist, they were meant for you?
Once Makima embarked on her work and you found yourself confined within the walls of her home, the hours stretching ahead, blank canvases awaiting strokes of purpose from the artist—you the canvas. Yet, a familiar pattern emerged as her absence settled in.
Thoughts, ceaseless and unrestrained, flooded your mind, overwhelming you, akin to a tumultuous storm brewing within. Pondering became second nature, almost synonymous with migraines. Your rumination meandered through various facets of you and Makima’s relationship, occasionally interrupted with words of your father.
Primarily, your thoughts gravitated towards Makima—inevitable, for love held you captive in this home. In her presence, the mental restlessness waned, and your mind found solace in the assurance she exuded. Thinking less was effortless when she was near, her mere existence a balm for your turbulent thoughts. She found your thoughts cute, thoughts worried so much for her sake.
Your relationship continued to winter, and winter was cold and bleak.
"I'm scared," you admit, your voice filled with trepidation.
The reality of Makima's career as a devil hunter was something that had taken a toll on you more than you had initially anticipated. At first, you had been intrigued by her strength and determination, admiring her for her ability to face the darkness of the world you lived in head-on. However, as time passed, you began to see the darker side of her world, and it started to affect you in ways I hadn't imagined. Death seemed to linger around Makima like a shadow, both in her professional and personal life.
The constant threat of powerful devils and dangerous missions weighed heavily on her shoulders, and that weight often spilled over into your relationship. The nights when she returned from a particularly gruelling battle, covered in blood and forsaken things, were nights filled with worry and fear from yourself. You couldn't help but imagine the worst and dread the possibility of losing her.
But it wasn't just the physical dangers that troubled you. No, it was the emotional toll of her work. The secrets she had to keep, the compromises she had to make, and the people she had to sacrifice for the greater good of her cause began to gnaw at your conscience. It amazed you how she kept herself so disciplined and stable despite it all. Work, with its constant demands and unpredictable hours, easily seeped into you and Makima’s home life.
There were nights when she would receive urgent phone calls, forcing her to abandon our plans, which she did with ease. Though you would lie if you said it did not leave you feeling neglected and alone. Alone constantly in this home, lost with your anxieties and thoughts.
Makima raises an eyebrow, her expression curious. "Oh. Scared of what, my dear?”
"I'm scared of…losing you, Makima," you confess, your words laced with vulnerability. "Lately, it feels like our relationship isn't a,” the fear of possibly offending her scared you more than anything, “uh, priority to you.” You used that word carefully.
Makima's gaze intensifies as she considers your words. "So, you believe I should reassess my priorities?” she asked. “And you think you’re a priority? Is that what you’re saying?”When she worded it like that you felt awful and belittled.
You stumble over your words. "I... I mean, we're dating, and... I just want to feel like we matter to each other.” You were sheepish, like a school girl.
Makima held her chin high, looking down at you through her long lashes. "Darling, don't be afraid to express yourself. If that's how you feel, I want to understand.”
You let out a shaky sigh, your voice filled with resignation. "I understand you're busy, Makima. I just don't… want you to stress yourself too much." You force yourself to say these words to please her and in a way, end this.
“Good. I’ll make sure not to.”
The winter winds howled and pounded against the windows, rattling the panes and sending shivers down your already tense spine. The room was bathed in the soft, flickering light of the fireplace, its crackling providing a comforting contrast to the harshness of the outside world and the void that was inside this distant home. The room was in a void of silence until Makima broke it.
"Look at me," she states, her eyes fixed on the book placed in her hands.
For some reason, despite your dismay, you do what she says easily and look into her eyes.
In the corner of your eye, you could see a flicker of understanding passing through Makima's eyes as she reaches out to gently touch your hand. "I hear you," she murmurs softly. "I may have been preoccupied, but I assure you, our relationship matters to me."
A glimmer of hope ignites within you as you meet her gaze fully. "Really?"
She nods, her expression sincere.
As you take in her words, a sense of reassurance washes over you. Perhaps, in this moment of honesty and vulnerability, you and Makima could strengthen your love. “I love you,” you say with no thought but with hope.
Before she could respond to your heartfelt declaration, a familiar tone chimed from her phone, interrupting the moment like a cruel déjà vu. You hold in a resigned sigh as Makima swiftly rose from her seat, reaching for her trench coat and draping around her, shielding her from the unforgiving cold that seemed to have no effect on her. It was a stark reminder that her duty called her away once more, leaving you alone and vulnerable to the haunting thoughts that seemed to shadow your every moment.
With the slam of the door, she disappeared into the night, and you watched her silhouette retreat into the darkness, a sense of loneliness creeping in. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, a feeling you had faintly hoped would change after the discussion you just had, a recurring ache that accompanied her absence. Once again, you found yourself left alone with your thoughts, the crackling fireplace the only company in this wintry night, its warmth unable to completely dispel the chill that had settled deep within you.
Whining, your pack of dogs circled around your dejected figure, their eyes filled with concern, their tails arched down, dejected.
As you sat there, alone, a whisper escaped your lips, barely audible, “I wonder…if I’ve made a mistake.”
Spring had arrived with its characteristics of humidity and warmth and the scent of freshly brewed coffee, but for you, it brought not the promise of new beginnings but the sting of heartbreak.
You had chosen this place for its cozy ambiance, hoping to find comfort in each other's presence. It had been so long since you both had went on a date, after all, Makima was dedicated to her work, and you spent your whole free time, home alone. But as the conversation grew heavier, the air around you seemed to thicken, and the pleasant background noise became a distant murmur.
Makima's words cut through the serene setting like a bolt of lightning. "Let's end things."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing. The gentle clinking of coffee cups and the chatter of other patrons seemed to fade into the background. Your voice trembled as you choked out a bewildered, "What?"
Makima's expression remained cool and detached, as if the weight of her words held no emotion at all. "Yes," she repeated, her voice devoid of tenderness, she rubbed her chin, as if she hadn’t decided already, "we'll end this...relationship."
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break down in the middle of the coffee shop. The woman you loved, who had once meant the world to you, now felt distant and unfeeling.
"Consider this a good deed on my part," she continued, her tone as indifferent as ever. "You were an obedient girlfriend, ______. Be proud."
As her words settled in, you felt a sense of betrayal and loss wash over you. The cozy coffee shop had transformed into a backdrop for your heartbreak, the world around you now irrelevant as you grappled with the end of a love that had once seemed unbreakable. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you couldn't contain the rush of emotions any longer. Your hand moved to cover your face, fingers trembling as you tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The coffee shop around you faded into the background as your grief and sorrow spilled into your trembling hand.
Makima watched you silently, sipping the dark coffee, her gaze unwavering but devoid of any warmth or remorse. In her eyes, this relationship had lost its worth, and she believed that ending it was an act of empathy, sparing you from the emotional decay that had started to seep into your life. Meeting Denji had changed everything for her, and you were left to bear the consequences.
To her, it was a good thing, a release for both of you, though for very different reasons. In her own way, she believed that you had gotten lucky, even if it didn't feel that way in the midst of your heartbreak. She saw it as an act of kindness, despite the undeniable manipulation and use of your emotions. In her eyes, this was her way of sparing you from further deterioration, even if it meant severing the connection that had once meant so much to you.
You knew, deep down, that you would recover from this heartache, that you would eventually find a way to live without Makima. But in that moment, as you wept in the coffee shop, it was hard to see beyond the pain and confusion that had come with the end of a love that had once consumed your heart.
Oh, my apologies! I should have been more specific! Could I request Power with a female reader who is obsessed with cute things (plushies, bows, cats, kawaii fashion, etc.)? I hope this is specific enough, please let me know if you need more details!
PRIMA DONNA
Pairing: Power/Female Reader
Summary: During a chance encounter at a farmers market, Power accuses you of being a witch due to your fashion style. Aki apologizes for Power's behavior and invites you to join them, and you happily accept. As you spend the day together, Aki and Denji go shopping while you accompany Power. You both decide to leave together and stumble upon an arcade. You guide Power through various games, teasing each other along the way. Aki and Denji eventually find you both working together, attempting to win a stuffed plush.
CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST FORM
A/N: no worries. thank you for requesting.
i primarily based the reader’s personality on fischl from genshin impact, however her style is based sorta on celestial from daganrompa. first time writing power so…
WORD COUNT // 2203 words
CSM TAGLIST: n/a
"WITCH!" Power exclaimed, her finger accusingly aimed in your direction. Gasps of astonishment escaped her lips as she openly gazed at you, causing passersby to turn their heads and fix their curious gazes upon you, drawing even more attention to your presence on the street.
Aki, Power, and Denji were enjoying their rare day off, strolling through the bustling city streets. However, to their astonishment, they unexpectedly stumbled upon you—a fellow devil hunter from Special Division 4—at the nearby farmers market. The market was a delightful treasure trove, brimming with homemade delicacies and charming discoveries. Power, in particular, had never before seen you outside the confines of your standard work uniform.
Thus the dramatic reaction.
You were dressed in an elegant ensemble that exuded a unique charm. A pristine white blouse adorned your upper body, featuring a long-point collar that added a touch of sophistication. Over the blouse, you wore a sleek black jacket, accentuated by delicate white ribbon lacing that gracefully cascaded down the sleeves.
A simple white ribbon was fastened across your chest, revealing a delightful pink tie, adding a pop of color to the canvas that was your outfit.
Your skirt, a masterpiece of design, boasted multiple tiers and intricate white lace embellishments. It swirled around you as you walked, creating an ethereal effect. Completing the look, you wore pink knee-high stockings, adorned with delicate ladder lace, and on each stocking, a contrasting black ribbon accentuated its charm.
Your feet were adorned with black Mary Janes, featuring a sturdy heel and secured by three dainty pink buckles.
A white lace headband adorned your hair, adding a touch of whimsy to your overall appearance. Hanging gracefully on your shoulder was a plush Kuromi purse, adding a playful element. Lastly, in your hand, you held a striking black fan, ready to create a gentle breeze whenever needed.
"With utmost confidence, my fashion transcends all others," you declared, elegantly unfurling your fan to delicately conceal the bottom half of your face.
“Clearly, it is a sight to behold.”
"You speak falsely, mortal! You merely appear to me as a witch." Power accused, her tone sharp and accusing.
In response, you swiftly closed your fan, a subtle gesture accompanying your retort. "Your commentary is as abhorrent as your attire," you calmly replied, the disdain evident in your voice.
Aki sighed. "My apologies, ______-san," he offered, his tone carrying a tinge of sincerity. Despite your eccentricities, he felt compelled to apologize on behalf of Power's words.
Denji's words however drowned this apology, his astonishment evident as he witnessed your unusual choice of attire, having also only seen you in your devil-hunting suit. "You mean you actually go shopping like that? In public?" he blurted out, pointing at the shopping bag nestled in your free hand, just behind your skirt.
A playful smile formed on your lips as you scrunched your face. "Indeed I do," you confirmed, unapologetically embracing your distinctive fashion sense. You then struck a pose, exuding confidence. "Behold and appreciate my eleganza!" you proclaimed, basking in your own style.
“…”
The group fell into an eerie silence as the three devil hunters stared at you, their expressions a mix of disbelief and skepticism. However, their lack of response did little to dampen your unwavering haughtiness.
Breaking the tension, Aki sighed and massaged his temples, clearly conflicted. "Would you... consider joining us?" he finally asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
With grace, you held your bag and fan before you, exuding an air of elegance. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you responded, "I would be absolutely delighted."
"Damn witch," Power muttered under her breath.
With a nod of agreement, you joined the trio on their shopping excursion, immersing yourself in their company. As the day progressed, you found yourself engaged in lively banter with Power, exchanging playful remarks and sharing laughter. Denji, on the other hand, seemed still engross by your attire, continuously pointing out and admiring the intricate details of your skirts and frills. Although it amused you, you gracefully dodged his attempts to touch them, preserving their delicate elegance.
Power, true to her nature, persisted in calling you a witch. However, you quickly grew accustomed to her bratty remarks, letting them slide off you like water off a duck's back. It became clear that her words held little effect on your spirits, as you remained undeterred and confident in your fashion.
After one of many, you all arrived at a clothing store, and Aki took on the responsibility of helping Denji find suitable attire. As they disappeared inside, Aki turned to you and made a request. "Denji and I will be inside. _____-san, can I please ask you to watch over Power?"
You placed a hand over your heart, a gesture of assurance. "With utmost confidence, you can count on me."
With a nod, trusting your sincerity, Aki and Denji ventured into the store, leaving you and Power outside. As minutes ticked by, it became evident that Power's patience was wearing thin. After only ten minutes of waiting, she began to fidget restlessly, unable to stay still.
“This is a bore!” Power's outburst drew attention from the surrounding people, their curious gazes fixed upon you two. However, you remained unfazed by the scrutiny, gracefully embracing the attention that came your way.
"Blood fiend, your sentiments resonate with me," you responded calmly, acknowledging Power's boredom. "However, I made a promise to Hayakawa to watch you."
Power tilted her chin, contemplating your words. "Or... we could leave this domain together. In doing so, you would still fulfill your promise of keeping an eye on me. Yes! I am a genius!"
You pondered for a moment, considering Power's proposition. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you replied, "Hm, you make a compelling argument. Let us embark on a leisurely stroll through the various shops, shall we? I'm sure we'll find something to pique our interests."
With each step along the bustling streets, you and Power indulged in the simple pleasure of exploration, not particularly focused on buying anything. However, Power's impulsive nature led her to touch nearly every item she came across, prompting you to swiftly reprimand her by slapping her wrist with your fan and displaying your devil hunter ID to ease each shop owners worries of the fiend.
As you continued your leisurely stroll, your eyes alighted upon a storefront that sparked a genuine smile upon your lips."Oh my, an arcade!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with delight. "Truly a haven for joy and amusement. Let us enter and immerse ourselves in its enchantment."
Power's eyes widened with excitement as she eagerly agreed, and together you made your way towards the arcade, ready to embrace the allure of games and fun.
As you gazed into the arcade, memories of your own past flooded your mind. “I spent a majority of my upcoming in arcades like this one,” you shared, a touch of nostalgia coloring your voice. With a gentle chuckle, you elegantly held your cheek, reflecting on those days. "My entire allowance was blissfully squandered on these captivating machines," you admitted, your tone filled with fondness.
Power, always quick to assert her skills, pointed at herself with a smug smirk, showcasing her razor-sharp teeth. "Well, I, Power, am a master of these children games," she proclaimed proudly. "So skilled, in fact, that I can make children wet their pants in awe! Ha!”
You raised an impressed eyebrow, acknowledging her claim. "Impressive, indeed," you remarked.
After presenting your devil hunter ID to the arcade owner, granting you both access, you took on the role of Power's guide, showing her the ropes in various games. Despite her earlier claims of mastery, Power proved to be less skilled than she had initially boasted, resulting in a fair share of playful teasing and laughter between the two of you. As you moved from one game to another, honing your own skills and sharing in the joy of friendly competition, you momentarily lost sight of Power. However, it didn't take long for you to spot her standing near a machine that seemed strangely deserted, devoid of any other players.
"That object bears a striking resemblance to Meowy!" Power exclaimed excitedly, her face pressed against the glass of some claw machine in the corner.
With a graceful stride, you approached to get a better view, the click of your heels echoing through the room. You placed your shopping bag to the ground as you stared inside. The machine held an assortment of stuffed cats, each in various sizes and colors. However, it was the white one with a small splotch of brown between it’s triangle ears that had Power completely captivated.
"A claw machine, my eternal nemesis," you remarked, a touch of elegance in your voice.
Power scowled in agreement. "Indeed, mine as well. The machine has eaten all my loot."
“It is quite…kawaii.” A flick of your fan caused a sharp rustling sound, drawing the attention of those around you. "Together, we shall vanquish this common adversary!" you declared, quickly pulling out your coin purse.
Two hours then passed, along with an abundance of money, and Aki and Denji finally found you both after tirelessly searching since the sun had now set. Aki had intended to deliver a stern lecture, primarily directed at you, considering your competence. However, upon witnessing both of you engrossed in a claw machine game, shoulder to shoulder, his frustration seemed to melt away.
Denji, on the other hand, found the whole situation rather foolish. With a real cat waiting at home, he couldn't comprehend why you both were expending so much energy to acquire a mere stuffed feline. Nevertheless, your determination remained unwavering.
“The treasure must be acquired!” you both argued.
As another ten minutes ticked by, Denji's impatience mirrored Power's, and he couldn't resist giving the claw machine a try himself. However, luck was not on his side, and he ended up losing all his money in his failed attempts. Consumed by anger, he unleashed a forceful punch that shattered the glass barrier. Nonchalantly, he shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unaffected by the act of violence.
"See? Easy!" Denji declared, flicking off the droplets of blood oozing from his fist. With an astonishing display of resilience, he effortlessly removed the shards of glass from his hand, exhibiting no signs of pain or distress.
“VICTORY IS OURS!” Power exclaimed triumphantly, seizing the Meowy plush through the shattered glass.
"What an elegant performance!" you chimed in, gracefully retrieving another plush resembling Meowy.
The deafening crash of shattered glass drew the attention of the claw machine owner, who hurriedly made their way toward the commotion. Their face contorted with a mix of disbelief and fury as they confronted the scene unfolding before them. "What the hell are you doing?!" the owner's voice boomed with anger, resonating through the air.
Their eyes darted from the broken glass to Denji, still standing amidst the aftermath of his impulsive act. The owner's tone carried a blend of disbelief, frustration, and concern for their damaged property.
Aki, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation, struggled to form a coherent response. His mind raced, desperately searching for the right words to defuse the situation. However, the weight of the situation and the owner's stern gaze seemed to render him speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words emerged, leaving him in a state of bewildered silence.
As the sun set, casting its golden glow over the horizon, the group of devil hunters began their departure, steadily walking into the distance. Power's exuberant voice rang out triumphantly, her arm thrusting the Meowy Junior plush high above her head. "Bow down to the mighty Meowy Junior!" she declared with a mix of jubilation and playful bravado, reveling in the victory of their claw machine conquest.
Meanwhile, you held your Meowy cat plush close to your heart. You glanced at the blood fiend and a surge of affection washed over you, embracing you in a wave of warmth. Denji and Aki gallantly shouldered the burden of the shopping bags, with Aki taking the extra load of yours. A gentle smile bloomed on your face, captivated by the exquisite craftsmanship that adorned the plush companion.
"Hayakawa, isn't this little cutie just absolutely adorable?" you whispered, your voice filled with fondness and delight. "What a delightful outing we've had!" You reveled in the joyous atmosphere, relishing the camaraderie and the simple pleasures of the day's adventure.
Aki's face contorted into a displeased frown, radiating an unmistakable sense of anger. Dealing with Power and Denji alone was already challenging enough, and your absence of support only compounded his frustration. It was difficult for him to grasp the fact that he had been banned from the arcade and was now obligated to pay the damages.
Admittedly, you had offered to split the cost, but regardless, Aki had resolved in his mind that the next time he crossed paths with you in public, he would not approach.
genre: mutual pining, fools in love, severe fluff i hate it (not really i just wish it was me), that's my shirt trope, first kiss.
pairing: roommate!megumi x gn!reader
word count: roughly 1.6k words
warnings: swearing, mild banter/playful argument, vague allusions to future suffering
requested: yes! by the lovely @knightofmight . thank you for requesting, i hope you like this ♥
“This has to be some sort of infringement of my liberties.”
You look up from your phone and turn to face him directly where he stands at the end of the hallway. “Shouldn’t you be off on that mission with Kugisaki, Fushiguro?” He’s still in his sleep shirt and sweats, hair all mussed from his repetitive tugging.
You think he bares his teeth a little, though his ears are burning. “Shouldn’t you be with Gojo-sensei? And I would be off if I had my clothes with me, but-” You cut him off with a wide, vague gesture to his room, where his closet is.
“Clothes,” you deadpan. “And no, get out, I'm having Maki and Toge over.”
He stares you down where you sit on the couch, but his eyes are caught on the way the navy button-down has settled on your figure, drowning it in the pretty fabric. In fact, it’s so long that you’re not wearing anything underneath- he stops his eyes from going any further.
“That’s,” he stops, reconsiders, and starts again. “That shirt you’re wearing is what I kept out to wear. I ironed it and shit, give it here.” You wrap your arms around yourself and shift slightly away from him, a miffed expression on your face. “What do you mean? It’s my shirt.”
“The fuck- it’s my shirt! Give it back!” He reaches out to grab the hem and collar to pull you closer so he can wrestle you out of your stubbornness, but you pull back with an equal amount of force as you stand up. Moments like these are when he wishes you weren’t such a formidable opponent.
You huff indignantly, turning your nose up at him as your hands protectively grasp the cloth at your chest, “I said it’s mine!” “It’s not yours, fuck’s sake-” He struggles against the death grip you have on the shirt and he has half a mind to consider what the hell he’s doing.
“Just get another shirt, this isn’t the only damn shirt you own!” Not addressing this blatant admittal of your felony, you give a final tug back to release from his grip and he chose that moment to exert more strength on the hem. A loud rip of expensive fabric is heard as the shirt gives way between your adamant grips. The flimsy thing falls pathetically to your body, leaving a large tear between the hem and the bodice, leaving bare skin in its wake.
You didn’t think it was possible for him to get even redder, but he did. His ears burned scarlet and bled into the apples of his cheeks. He quickly averts his eyes and turns on his heel, taking large strides to his room and slamming the door shut. Your own face burns as you sit back down and examine the damage.
You think you like it better this way.
He rests on the closed door, slightly out of breath from the scuffle. His head falls back onto the wood as he tries to drown out the pretty, wide-eyed look on your face and the stupid shirt and how you looked in it and your skin-. He shuts his eyes and groans quietly in annoyance. Screw the shirt, you look better in it anyway. You don't seem like you'll give his heart back either.
You just have to be the death of him, don’t you?
“Is this payback?”, you ask a few days later as he rests on your bed against the headboard, wearing your oversized sweatshirt. It’s your favourite, a gift from Gojo that reads “I ♥ HOT MILFS” in white across the soft black fabric. You try not to gush at how much you adore him in your clothing.
“You’re one to talk,” is all he says, eyeing you in one of his pink hoodies. You roll your eyes and settle down against the wall, resting your legs over his own outstretched ones. Sharing clothes, or more like stealing them, has become a more common occurrence between you and your roommate.
Your eyes drift to the book he holds delicately between his large palms. “Didn’t know you liked poetry?” You curiously glance at him, but he has stopped reading long since your skin came into contact with him. He shakes his head slightly and looks up at you, trying to come up with a valid response that wouldn’t only consist of incoherent mumbles.
“Uh- yeah I do, just a little,” he holds it out to you in a silent offering, but you decline with a slight smile. “No thank you, I’ve read and annotated it already. It’s with Toge right now, he wanted to try annotation.”
You miss the way his eyebrow twitches at the end, and his lips quirk into a slight sneer. He recomposes himself to respond. “Inumaki and you are pretty close now?”
Your face blossoms into the softest grin and you lean your head back against the drywall. Your mind seems elsewhere when you reply. “We have been talking, well, writing, a lot more lately, yeah.” He’s been helping me confess to you, is what you don’t say, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Megumi can barely hear you as his heart thuds up his throat, blood rushing in his ears. It's not like he’s made any blatant effort to show how he feels about you, but he’s also sure he’s dropped a few hints. You’re wearing each other's clothing, for fucks sake!
“Because of his difficulty with conversing normally, we bought a notebook together to write in to talk instead,” as you speak, you don’t notice how your smile has grown or how his eyebrows furrow a little into themselves. “He’s such a great guy, honestly, I would-”
Before you can finish your sentence, he’s reached forward, pulling your arm towards him. You fall back onto the mattress at the sudden movement with a small yelp, and your breath stops short as he leans over you, arms planted on either side of your head. “Stop talking about him,” He’s muttering rapidly to himself, hair falling into his eyes.
Your heart is skipping beats like you’ve done your whole sorcery technique in one go, thumping wildly as though trying to break free from the cages of your ribs. You’re sure he can hear it, but he seems no better, breathing a bit harshly. Your mind forgets the position you both are in for a moment, focusing on the pretty boy above, with red glowing cheeks and inky hair hanging in his green eyes.
You reach up, gently brushing his hair away. “There, I can see your eyes now. You’re mumbling again, ‘gumi.” His breath stills, eyes trained on your face as he contemplates throwing all his extravagant confession plans out the window as they zone in on the precious glow on your face and the fucking bewitching, sweet smile on your lips.
“I-” He tries, voice failing him as his ears catch on the slight nickname you used, each syllable dancing across his consciousness. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he tries again, whispering all the words in one breath.
And, oh, he thinks, nothing can compare to the way your smile widens, your heart swells and your eyes twinkle endearingly. The joy seems to burst at the seams of every letter of the “well why don’t you” that you whisper softly back to him. The air surrounding you both is warm, despite the winter, glittery and otherworldly, neither eager to break the serenity.
Fuck the plans, the confessions. He wants you to feel his raw emotions, both of you bare and trusting in front of each other, a moment that can never be replicated. Screw Inumaki, he’s better. Fuck it, is what he thinks, as two shuddering hearts and shaky smiles intertwine when he leans forward and captures your lips in his. Both your eyes slip shut as you find a gentle rhythm between the dance of your lips to the beat of your heart.
It’s not fireworks or bursting sparklers. It’s comfort, its peace, its electricity flowing between the both of you, something that was long awaited, a thirst finally sated. It’s home.
Finding someone like this, who you wholly trust with your life and would die for, is rare. You’re infinitesimally grateful Gojo introduced you to one another, where you both just clicked. Keeping this someone is even rarer with the risk of the jujutsu world, where the reaper stands at every corner, at every threatening battle, waiting for an untimely end.
But you can make it work, he thinks, as he pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead on yours, eyes still refusing to open and crack the moment. You can make it work, as long as you come home to each other, in this stupid apartment with the shitty heaters and each other. Where you can dress each other's wounds with a scolding and a gentle press of lips to a temple.
Where you can call it home, spend sick days after you foolishly had to dance in the rain, offer comfort after a loss to Death once more in each other’s arms, laze around on slow days and dance in the kitchen to kill time. Having to be away from one another but falling into each other’s arms at the end of the day to a restful slumber. To cry, to laugh, to live, as authentically as possible, with a semblance of normalcy in an abnormal world.
Of course, you couldn’t care less about ruining the moment as you open your eyes to his nose brushing yours, as you smirk and say “So you were jealous, huh?”
Hello~ can I get Kobeni with a Male S/O who's energetic and affectionate towards her. Like always telling her how much he loves her and how cute she is.
ESCAPISM
Pairing: Kobeni Higashiyama/Male Reader
Summary: In the midst of a lively park and bustling street, Kobeni found solace in the enduring glow of the streetlights. As the noises faded into the background, her focus shifted to the person by her side—you. While Kobeni's memories were mostly muted and melancholic, you always stood out vividly in each one, radiating with vibrant colors. After a demanding day as a devil-hunter, you both took a stroll, prompting nostalgic reflections. Despite being financially strained like Kobeni, you generously offered to treat her to some exquisite fried chicken to uplift her spirits, but she declined. Her sole desire was for things to remain unchanged between the two of you.
CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
A/N: thank you for requesting! your request was somewhat similar to a oneshot i was already gonna write for kobeni, i just shortened it.
WORD COUNT // 1,554 words
CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche
WARNINGS: spoilers but not really, more like references.
In the midst of a lively park and bustling street, Kobeni found solace in the enduring glow of the streetlights. As the noises faded into the background, her focus shifted to the person by her side—you, who walked briskly beside her. Your face attracted the light and a sparkle twinkled in your eye, she noticed, as she stared.
After a fun night of drinking with the rest of the division, Kobeni reveled in the joy of dining out. Eating out was one of her greatest pleasures. Once the night came to an end, you kindly offered to chaperone her on the walk to the train station. Though the walk felt more like roaming.
Despite your aimless wandering, a glimmer of hollow light constantly followed you, devouring you. No matter how far you both went, there was always that persistent glimmer. You had a radiant glow for as long as she could remember. Kobeni’s memories were all in a monochromatic filter, melancholic and lagging. Despite the darkness of her life, she met you, her bright light at the end of the tunnel. You shone with vivid color in every memory you shared. She was at a loss for words in the face of your enlightening presence.
Luckily, you broke the silence with ease. "How has work been?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice. "I heard your division was assigned to eliminate some devil at some hotel. Which one was it?"
Kobeni's gaze dropped, her hands clasping together in a display of unease. "It was the Eternity devil," she admitted, her tone tinged with remorse.
You nodded, sensing the weight of her words. "Did everything go smoothly?" you asked cautiously.
A shadow of shame passed over Kobeni's face as she took a deep breath. "No, it didn't... I... I made a terrible mistake," she stammered, struggling to find the right words. “I panicked…and tried to stab out the heart of one of my coworkers, it was Denji. But instead, I...stabbed one of my superiors, it was Hayakawa.”
You struggled to conceal your amazement, the marvel evident in your voice. "Woah! That's quite out of character for you, Kobeni," you remarked, though deep down, you knew that her impulsive tendencies were not entirely foreign to you. Kobeni had always possessed a combination of timidity and recklessness, traits that had persisted since childhood. The life of a devil hunter seemed ill-suited for her, you knew that, and witnessing her current state pained you deeply.
Kobeni frowned. “Yeah…I really need to apologize.” She continued, strolling unhurriedly beside you. "How about...your work?" she asked, her voice trembling like a flickering flame, trying to sustain the conversation.
Resting your chin in your hand, you responded. "Miss Makima had requested for me to accompany her on a trip to Kyoto tomorrow, but with all honesty, I don't anticipate anything eventful happening."
"Oh, well, I'll be patrolling with Galgali tomorrow," Kobeni shared.
You let out a sigh, disapproving of Kobeni working alongside a fiend of all things. "The violence fiend, huh? I wish I didn't have to leave you with it."
Kobeni wanted to defend the fiend, tell you how he wasn't all that bad, but she bit her tongue, opting to remain hushed. "It's alright, really. I wouldn't want to be a bother--"
You interrupted her, your voice filled with affection. "It's cute how apologetic you are, but Kobeni, know that you could never bother me."
A fiery blush crept onto Kobeni's cheeks as she softly replied, "I'm sorry."
Suppressing the urge to laugh at her response, you decided against teasing her about her apologetic nature. Instead, you simply smiled down at her, letting the conversation naturally come to a close. Sometimes, silence and a knowing smile spoke louder than words, you thought.
You close your eyes, as the cacophony of the city becomes distant, gradually fading into the background. The honking of car horns, the chatter of pedestrians, and the bustling energy of the streets all blend into a symphony of urban life. Instead of overwhelming you, this constant noise seems to envelop you, providing a sense of comfort and anonymity.
At this moment, you allow yourself to detach from the chaos of your daily life. The towering buildings, with their mesmerizing lights and windows reflecting the night sky, remind you of the vastness of the world. You feel like a small observer in a grand spectacle, the world moving around you while you find solace in the stillness within.
“Don’t stress yourself, _____.”
Startled by the sound of Kobeni's voice, you are abruptly jolted back to the present moment. The tranquility you were experiencing quickly fades as your attention shifts from the vastness of the city to the immediate presence of another person.
Turning towards Kobeni, you find yourself facing a familiar face. "Sorry, what was that?" you ask, your mind still lingering on the brief respite you had just experienced. You didn't fully catch what she said.
Kobeni, feeling sheepish, turned away and stumbled over her words. "Please don't stress yourself too much. It's not healthy to work excessively. B-b-but I understand that you need to provide for yourself, especially since... well, your family isn't in the picture anymore. However--" --her sentence was abruptly interrupted by the ferocious growl of her stomach, akin to that of a beast.
Kobeni's face flushed with embarrassment, turning a deep shade of crimson. Overwhelmed by the sudden interruption of her growling stomach, she came to a halt and instinctively clutched her midsection, as if trying to suppress the noise. "I-I-I'm so sorry!" she cried, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
Having grown up with Kobeni and accustomed to her occasional dramatic outbursts, you shrugged it off. You stopped in front of her, interrupting her string of apologies. "Hmm, Kobeni. Let me treat you to some fried chicken tonight. You know, the good kind near that park we love."
A glimmer of surprise and gratitude flickered in Kobeni's teary eyes as she mumbled amidst her apologies, "Is it open this late?" However, she quickly gasped and shook her head. "Wait, no, no, no! You should be saving your money, not spending it on me!"
You responded with a playful smile. "Oh, I have a few twenties to spare."
Kobeni frowned, her disbelief evident on her face. "No, you don't."
Chuckling softly, you responded, "You're right, I'll worry about that later. Besides, treating you to a delicious meal is worth every penny." Playfully, you hung your arm around Kobeni's shoulder, pulling her close. "Now come on! Do you want chicken or not? You can tell me all about that fiend while we eat! Okay? Please? I'm literally begging you now~"
Kobeni couldn't help but smile at your persistence and the playful tone in your voice. Blushing slightly, she nodded and chuckled back. "Thank you... really. You're too kind."
You released your hold on Kobeni and exclaimed, "It's decided then! Let's hurry up and get there! What are we doing standing around?"
Kobeni's attention, however, became fixated on your face and your radiant smile. Lost in her thoughts, she couldn't hear your words anymore. Deep within, she silently pleaded, "_____, please don't die tomorrow, or the day after that, or any day that follows. Please keep wearing that smile. That's all I truly want from you."
Unaware of Kobeni's inner turmoil, you enthusiastically started walking towards the fried chicken place, unaware of the profound impact your presence had on her.
"Wait!" As Kobeni called out to you, you halted in your tracks and turned around to face her. She stood still, her words catching your attention. "Um, thank you for staying with me... for the long run. I know it's been difficult throughout the years for... both of us."
Arching your brow, you responded, "Hey, we're not kids anymore, Kobeni."
Confusion washed over Kobeni's face as she tried to make sense of your words. Before she could respond, you walked closer to her and gently rubbed her head, messing up her hair in an affectionate gesture. "Don't be crying. You'll make me think you're sad, even after I've been trying so hard to keep you smiling all these years."
Blushing, Kobeni realized tears were streaming down her face, a realization that had eluded her. "O-Oh..." she stuttered, a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude flooding her emotions.
You put your hands in your pockets, a sense of reassurance evident in your posture. "And it's no problem. Let's never separate, Kobeni. I'll always be somewhere," you say with a hint of playfulness in your tone.
Kobeni stutters in response, desperately hoping her words sound platonic. "M-Me too, for you," she manages to say, her voice filled with sincerity. Please sound platonic, please sound platonic, please sound platonic. "I-I love you, _____."
You smile warmly, appreciating her genuine feelings. "You can be really cute sometimes, Kobeni," you mutter softly. Turning around, your back facing her, you respond, "I love you too." Before she can fully process your words, you add lightheartedly, "Now come on, enough with the sentimental talk! Our fried chicken's getting soggy!"
With that, you take the lead, both of you moving forward, leaving the heartfelt moment behind as you embrace the present, ready to enjoy the simple pleasure of sharing a meal together.
Hello~ can I get Kobeni with a Male S/O who's energetic and affectionate towards her. Like always telling her how much he loves her and how cute she is.
ESCAPISM
Pairing: Kobeni Higashiyama/Male Reader
Summary: In the midst of a lively park and bustling street, Kobeni found solace in the enduring glow of the streetlights. As the noises faded into the background, her focus shifted to the person by her side—you. While Kobeni's memories were mostly muted and melancholic, you always stood out vividly in each one, radiating with vibrant colors. After a demanding day as a devil-hunter, you both took a stroll, prompting nostalgic reflections. Despite being financially strained like Kobeni, you generously offered to treat her to some exquisite fried chicken to uplift her spirits, but she declined. Her sole desire was for things to remain unchanged between the two of you.
A/N: thank you for requesting! your request was somewhat similar to a oneshot i was already gonna write for kobeni, i just shortened it.
WORD COUNT // 1,554 words
CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche
WARNINGS: spoilers but not really, more like references.
In the midst of a lively park and bustling street, Kobeni found solace in the enduring glow of the streetlights. As the noises faded into the background, her focus shifted to the person by her side—you, who walked briskly beside her. Your face attracted the light and a sparkle twinkled in your eye, she noticed, as she stared.
After a fun night of drinking with the rest of the division, Kobeni reveled in the joy of dining out. Eating out was one of her greatest pleasures. Once the night came to an end, you kindly offered to chaperone her on the walk to the train station. Though the walk felt more like roaming.
Despite your aimless wandering, a glimmer of hollow light constantly followed you, devouring you. No matter how far you both went, there was always that persistent glimmer. You had a radiant glow for as long as she could remember. Kobeni’s memories were all in a monochromatic filter, melancholic and lagging. Despite the darkness of her life, she met you, her bright light at the end of the tunnel. You shone with vivid color in every memory you shared. She was at a loss for words in the face of your enlightening presence.
Luckily, you broke the silence with ease. "How has work been?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice. "I heard your division was assigned to eliminate some devil at some hotel. Which one was it?"
Kobeni's gaze dropped, her hands clasping together in a display of unease. "It was the Eternity devil," she admitted, her tone tinged with remorse.
You nodded, sensing the weight of her words. "Did everything go smoothly?" you asked cautiously.
A shadow of shame passed over Kobeni's face as she took a deep breath. "No, it didn't... I... I made a terrible mistake," she stammered, struggling to find the right words. “I panicked…and tried to stab out the heart of one of my coworkers, it was Denji. But instead, I...stabbed one of my superiors, it was Hayakawa.”
You struggled to conceal your amazement, the marvel evident in your voice. "Woah! That's quite out of character for you, Kobeni," you remarked, though deep down, you knew that her impulsive tendencies were not entirely foreign to you. Kobeni had always possessed a combination of timidity and recklessness, traits that had persisted since childhood. The life of a devil hunter seemed ill-suited for her, you knew that, and witnessing her current state pained you deeply.
Kobeni frowned. “Yeah…I really need to apologize.” She continued, strolling unhurriedly beside you. "How about...your work?" she asked, her voice trembling like a flickering flame, trying to sustain the conversation.
Resting your chin in your hand, you responded. "Miss Makima had requested for me to accompany her on a trip to Kyoto tomorrow, but with all honesty, I don't anticipate anything eventful happening."
"Oh, well, I'll be patrolling with Galgali tomorrow," Kobeni shared.
You let out a sigh, disapproving of Kobeni working alongside a fiend of all things. "The violence fiend, huh? I wish I didn't have to leave you with it."
Kobeni wanted to defend the fiend, tell you how he wasn't all that bad, but she bit her tongue, opting to remain hushed. "It's alright, really. I wouldn't want to be a bother--"
You interrupted her, your voice filled with affection. "It's cute how apologetic you are, but Kobeni, know that you could never bother me."
A fiery blush crept onto Kobeni's cheeks as she softly replied, "I'm sorry."
Suppressing the urge to laugh at her response, you decided against teasing her about her apologetic nature. Instead, you simply smiled down at her, letting the conversation naturally come to a close. Sometimes, silence and a knowing smile spoke louder than words, you thought.
You close your eyes, as the cacophony of the city becomes distant, gradually fading into the background. The honking of car horns, the chatter of pedestrians, and the bustling energy of the streets all blend into a symphony of urban life. Instead of overwhelming you, this constant noise seems to envelop you, providing a sense of comfort and anonymity.
At this moment, you allow yourself to detach from the chaos of your daily life. The towering buildings, with their mesmerizing lights and windows reflecting the night sky, remind you of the vastness of the world. You feel like a small observer in a grand spectacle, the world moving around you while you find solace in the stillness within.
“Don’t stress yourself, _____.”
Startled by the sound of Kobeni's voice, you are abruptly jolted back to the present moment. The tranquility you were experiencing quickly fades as your attention shifts from the vastness of the city to the immediate presence of another person.
Turning towards Kobeni, you find yourself facing a familiar face. "Sorry, what was that?" you ask, your mind still lingering on the brief respite you had just experienced. You didn't fully catch what she said.
Kobeni, feeling sheepish, turned away and stumbled over her words. "Please don't stress yourself too much. It's not healthy to work excessively. B-b-but I understand that you need to provide for yourself, especially since... well, your family isn't in the picture anymore. However--" --her sentence was abruptly interrupted by the ferocious growl of her stomach, akin to that of a beast.
Kobeni's face flushed with embarrassment, turning a deep shade of crimson. Overwhelmed by the sudden interruption of her growling stomach, she came to a halt and instinctively clutched her midsection, as if trying to suppress the noise. "I-I-I'm so sorry!" she cried, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
Having grown up with Kobeni and accustomed to her occasional dramatic outbursts, you shrugged it off. You stopped in front of her, interrupting her string of apologies. "Hmm, Kobeni. Let me treat you to some fried chicken tonight. You know, the good kind near that park we love."
A glimmer of surprise and gratitude flickered in Kobeni's teary eyes as she mumbled amidst her apologies, "Is it open this late?" However, she quickly gasped and shook her head. "Wait, no, no, no! You should be saving your money, not spending it on me!"
You responded with a playful smile. "Oh, I have a few twenties to spare."
Kobeni frowned, her disbelief evident on her face. "No, you don't."
Chuckling softly, you responded, "You're right, I'll worry about that later. Besides, treating you to a delicious meal is worth every penny." Playfully, you hung your arm around Kobeni's shoulder, pulling her close. "Now come on! Do you want chicken or not? You can tell me all about that fiend while we eat! Okay? Please? I'm literally begging you now~"
Kobeni couldn't help but smile at your persistence and the playful tone in your voice. Blushing slightly, she nodded and chuckled back. "Thank you... really. You're too kind."
You released your hold on Kobeni and exclaimed, "It's decided then! Let's hurry up and get there! What are we doing standing around?"
Kobeni's attention, however, became fixated on your face and your radiant smile. Lost in her thoughts, she couldn't hear your words anymore. Deep within, she silently pleaded, "_____, please don't die tomorrow, or the day after that, or any day that follows. Please keep wearing that smile. That's all I truly want from you."
Unaware of Kobeni's inner turmoil, you enthusiastically started walking towards the fried chicken place, unaware of the profound impact your presence had on her.
"Wait!" As Kobeni called out to you, you halted in your tracks and turned around to face her. She stood still, her words catching your attention. "Um, thank you for staying with me... for the long run. I know it's been difficult throughout the years for... both of us."
Arching your brow, you responded, "Hey, we're not kids anymore, Kobeni."
Confusion washed over Kobeni's face as she tried to make sense of your words. Before she could respond, you walked closer to her and gently rubbed her head, messing up her hair in an affectionate gesture. "Don't be crying. You'll make me think you're sad, even after I've been trying so hard to keep you smiling all these years."
Blushing, Kobeni realized tears were streaming down her face, a realization that had eluded her. "O-Oh..." she stuttered, a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude flooding her emotions.
You put your hands in your pockets, a sense of reassurance evident in your posture. "And it's no problem. Let's never separate, Kobeni. I'll always be somewhere," you say with a hint of playfulness in your tone.
Kobeni stutters in response, desperately hoping her words sound platonic. "M-Me too, for you," she manages to say, her voice filled with sincerity. Please sound platonic, please sound platonic, please sound platonic. "I-I love you, _____."
You smile warmly, appreciating her genuine feelings. "You can be really cute sometimes, Kobeni," you mutter softly. Turning around, your back facing her, you respond, "I love you too." Before she can fully process your words, you add lightheartedly, "Now come on, enough with the sentimental talk! Our fried chicken's getting soggy!" With that, you take the lead, both of you moving forward, leaving the heartfelt moment behind as you embrace the present, ready to enjoy the simple pleasure of sharing a meal together.
Hey, I hear you’re taking requests? Could you possibly do Power and a female reader? Thank you in advance if you’re able to do so, and have a nice day!!
i would love to write your request as i have been wanting to write for power. if you can, please send me the scenario or a prompt of sorts of what you would like. thank you!
Summary: The foggy heavens above opened its wide gates to the opening of hell. Spreading grayish, decaying clouds throughout the sky…like a wicked plague. A dreadful sensation crawled up your spine, then somnolently down the entirety of your body, paralyzing your legs in stiff concrete. Life as a devil hunter was a rigid awakening, an incitement of the truth of the world. Showcasing a depraved reality. And your guide to this world, Kishibe, was an embodiment of what the career did to people; an unruly joke of a man. However, you both got along. Until he became the very devil he taught you to hunt.
A/N: PART TWO - PART THREE - PART FOUR (TBP)
This is PART ONE of my mini series, Mermaid Devil. Weird that I posted them out of order but life is disorderly anyway. I will post the fourth and last part whenever the chance comes. Anyway, please enjoy Samsonite.
WORD COUNT // 7,091 words
WARNINGS: Suggestive Language - Explicit Language
CSM TAGLIST: N/A
Stirred, misty heavens above opened its wide gates, spreading grayish, decaying clouds throughout the sky like a wicked plague. A dreadful sensation crawled up your spine then somnolently down the entirety of your body; paralyzing your legs in stiff concrete.
The sun hardly beamed at this time—this early in the morning. It wasn't dark enough to still consider it night, however, it also wasn't bright enough to consider it dawn. It was in between those periods—a perfect twilight, it was. Likewise, it matched your present feelings and mood at that moment in time.
The horrendous smell of Tokyo diverted your senses. Sounds of early trains flying hastily above you, and the trivial fear of the clouds sobbing on you today—shivering you. Why exactly did _he_ want you to wake up and arrive here so damn early? So early that you couldn’t tell if it was still night or morning. You’ll settle for the morning.
Today was the start of your career as a zippy devil-hunter, well, your training as one. What you found irritating was that the senior devil hunter who was assigned to train you had full control over this instruction. This is why he’s able to call you up so early, on this day, specifically at this scruffy location, and stand you up all on top of that.
The audacity of men. You haven't personally met this devil-hunter yet, but you could already tell he was an asshole and a rugged dog just by his behavior ‘tis far. Additionally, the location he told you to arrive at this day descriptively showed his not giving a fuck demeanor. Kishibe, which is his name, told you to arrive at this hotel that resided in the middle of the rough parts of Tokyo via a late email.
You weren't scared of creeping around in these parts at this time or anything; growing up in similar parts dissolved any fear that may have manifested itself. You were young, but you were not naïve in the slightest. The hotel doors you stood in front of rather suspiciously weren't any roundabout hotel and you could sense that much.
Each man that passed through the hotel's doors flirted with you like panting dogs in the summer's heat. You periodically dismissed every one of them swiftly. At this point, you’re not even bothering to spare a glance at them. What made it quite difficult was each man who left the building looked like the description you were looking for. You were looking out for an older man, in his forties or so: dark hair, inflicted grays, and facial hair. That was it.
You sighed, dancing your eyes around your surroundings for the hundredth time that hour, suspicious characters all around. Hell, they probably consider you a suspicious character too.
You pull at your loose tie, the fabric rubbing against the back of your neck with each mild tug. The area was shadow-bombed, milky darkness seeped into the cracked streets like rain puddles. The wall you leaned on roughly rubbed against your blazer.
You chuckled to yourself, breaking the silence that fractured the neighborhood. You tried finding humor in this situation. A lazy, tired smile drooped from your face, eyes tingly drained.
The damn hotel he told you to meet him at was a bloody love hotel. A lousy cheap one too.
Kishibe hadn’t mentioned anything about the location being a love hotel in his email. No wonder every person who passed in and out of those doors assumed you were up for grabs. Comedic shit.
You lean back further, staring up at the sky, in turn bumping your head against the concrete wall. No pain was emitted, though. The sky was starless as expected, but a mystique fog swirled in every direction, telling you an ancient ole tale.
The glass door of the hotel beside you slid open, ruining your sense of peace. This time around, you didn’t even bother removing your gaze from the early sky to glance at him. Who arrived was another middle-aged man with dark hair inflicted with grays.
He turned in your direction upon exiting and his mouth curled into a crooked smile. “Hey, sweet thing. How much is a night with you?” A confirmation. At least the other men were vague in their request for paid sex.
You stared the man in the eye, eyes seemingly lifeless like a silent animal. “Back it off,” you sighed. You squint your eyes, the bright pink light from inside the love hotel blinding them. “I’m already in a bad mood, prick. Don’t ya make me repeat myself, eh?”
The man, surprisingly, shrugged his shoulders and walked off to the parking lot, calling you a ‘nagging bitch that sounded like his wife’ on his way out.
You rubbed your temples. The audacity of men, the audacity of men, the fucking audacity of men.
You bunched your eyes closed in frustration, a train filled with hatred thought consumed you vehemently, until a masculine, raspy voice spoke.
“So you’re not a worker, eh?”
You flinched, and your eyes burst open from their containment. “Eh? Where the hell did you come from?” The words left your mouth like a slippery slope. Your eyes, fully alert and destined on his dull figure. His shadow overlapped with yours, trapping yours against the wall, similar to him standing in front of you, your back against the wall. A rugged man, with rather gray hair, a stoic expression, and a monotone tone, stood upon you.
A sporadic stubble and unreadable scowl were stapled on his aged face. “Been watching you from inside for a while,” he stated. “Are you the chump they wanted me to train?”
The bloody audacity. He was inside there the entire time watching you while you waited for his old ass out here. You bunched your fist in a way to bite your tongue. “Yea, I would say so. I can assume you’re Kishibe,” you uttered roughly, a glare, that he’d noticed, in the back of your eye.
He shrugged his oversized coat onto his shoulders, a loose tie hanging down between his chest. He responds. “You can assume all you want,” he said, then turned his back to you and walked off, silently urging you to follow him into the ongoing mist. In which you do.
As you follow Kishibe’s meticulous trail, a tense, fleshy silence embodies the smoke-spilled roads. Chilly streets rid of people or dog crap. The devilish smoke followed behind you and Kishibe’s ill-defined silhouettes that caressed the other. The buildings were as quiet as bats, and the painted sky was having trouble shifting from twilight to _morning_ or _night_. It still appeared like a grayish-black paint forcefully mixed with water.
The metallic colors and sandy clouds swirl north, south, and west. You tugged your trench coat tighter, a shiver running down your body intimately. The mysterious time of day was cold, not arctic-cold, but rather, hauntingly cold. Like if a ghost was following you, and you knew it, but couldn't see it. This must be what people who’re haunted felt endlessly cold. Kishibe however was unaffected by mother nature like deep space, walking coolly with the fire he bestowed.
You observed his face from behind, desperately, tirelessly following behind his shadow's steps. His slanted eyes were a dreading black paint and showed no movement nor care. His irises didn't shift or expand, they were bleak. His stubble was rurly, unlike his fixed, gray hair.
The side of his face showcased his ear piercing on both sides of his face, something you wouldn't expect from a man of his age. The women in you unwillingly gauged his build. He had a nice, strong build for his age. You could tell he worked out, though devil hunter work might have just kept him in shape.
You faintly scoffed at your observation.
Too bad he was a dick and the age of your father.
A breeze passed, clearing the fog in your path. It had been almost half an hour of silent walking. Your legs were starting to strangle you. Where in the world was this man taking you? He hadn’t said a word since the Love Hotel, and your throat was becoming dry from the lack of action.
You pick up your steps, gaining a distance. Now walking next to the silent man, shoulder to shoulder. He turned the corner, and again you followed. Expectantly at this point, no person was in sight besides a stray cat in the junk-filled alleyway you passed.
You groaned. You wanted to know if you were close to wherever in the hell he was taking you both, and why exactly was it relevant. The further you walked away from your first location, the longer it would take for your father to pick you up after the ordeal.
You begin scolding the man, legs slowly losing their pace. “Did you fucking walk here?”
He shifted his eyes to you, barely a lick of interest or care in them. Kishibe honestly hated the sound of people whining in general. He stopped in his tracks before responding, you stop also, just happy to give your legs a chance to bloody calm themselves. You pant, leaning against the wall as he takes a swig of his flask, watching your exhausted figure.
“Your legs’ too good to walk? Ya gonna be in a lot of pain then if that's so. Walking everywhere is a damn necessary as a devil hunter,” he lectured, tone relaxed, but still holding authority in the back of it. He placed his flask back at its home in his pocket. “Cars are expensive anyway. Why buy one you’ll rarely use?” he shrugged.
You frowned, annoyed. “You lecturing me or what?”
“No. I’m taming ya. We're here anyway," he said.
Your gaze goes forward and you realize that there was a bar within this alleyway. You look back to Kishibe who stared ahead. He reaches to open the foggy glass door. “Follow,” he muttered as he entered, and in the end, you followed behind him into the unknown.
Kishibe sighed an exposed yawn in the back of it.
“Let’s get started,” he muttered.
You and Kishibe were seated, face to face, in a desolate bar. Said bar presented a snazzy disposition: warm, orange lighting and the stringing smell of alcohol mixing with Kishibe’s mature cologne left your nose hypnotized.
You leaned your face further into your cheek, elbow resting upon the dark wooden table. You watched silently as Kishibe shuffled through an assortment of papers, presumingly your file.
The file stated the following about you, the very basics of your life. Your age, birthday, and where you originated from. It also mentioned somewhat hastily how you had dropped out of high school your last year, however, Kishibe saw it as unassuming and unneeded information.
Kishibe’s eyebrow elated once catching the eye of your day of birth. His eyes lingered on your date of birth for a split second, and the date erupts a comedically motility in his mind.
He chuckles, huskily, to your silent confusion. He places the file on the absent table, making eye contact with you, “It’s your birthday today, eh? Tis' gonna be the worst day of ya life from now on, chump,” he stated, a lazy grin on his face, and merriment stranded in his voice. His levity erupts an angry volcano within ya.
However, before you could retort, a man older than you, and perhaps older than the Kishibe as well, walks over from behind the bar and towards the lone table you both accompanied. He had long gray hair, almost pure white that was as silky as a satin pillow, and you could tell that just from sight. The bartender wore a simple suit that wasn't fancy but rather comfortable. Shamefully, it was more of a suit than the loose tie that you and Kishibe wore without care.
“Ah, Kishibe. It's been a while,” the bartender said before resting his attention on you; a new face. “Tis’ your mistress on the side?”
You scoff, turning to stare at the rustic brick wall. “Only important men have mistresses,” you retorted. The older man arched a brow, a smile threatening his tranquil expression.
“Spicy, eh?”
Kishibe ignored your cold shade and did not bother to acknowledge your ‘moodiness.’ He scratched his stubble.
“She’s my trainee.”
He nodded. “Ah, I see. A pleasure to meet you miss,” he bowed, yet you continued staring at the wall, allowing him to bow to your stoic side profile.
“Apologies. It was impertinent to assume. Just Kishibe rarely brings anyone here anyway,” he added.
You shrugged, disinterested. You were being cold for no reason in particular, you dismissed it as boredom and exhaustion as always. Doesn’t matter to you if you push people away by acting like that. No one puts in the effort anyway, not your parents or even yourself, they’re all assholes; including yourself.
Finally, he begins taking your orders, disregarding your arctic demeanor. “What can I get you both then?”
Kishibe pointed his thumb at you. “Get my friend here a whiskey on the rocks and my usual. On her.”
Your eyes squint. On you? You don’t recall offering to pay, nor did you even suggest or know you were going to a bar in the first place. You grit your teeth.
The bartender nodded, cupping his chin. “Here to celebrate?”
Kishibe nodded, nudging in your direction. “Her birthday.”
“Oh. Consider it on the house then,” he smiled.
You glared the brightness of forest fires at Kishibe while the bartender smiled at you, not noticing or bothering to mention your angered demeanor.
“Happy birthday, miss,” the man said, before exiting the table to fix up your drinks, leaving you and the devil-hunter alone in the thick fog between yourselves. Yet again a silence ensued.
You bit your tongue, not breaking eye contact with Kishibe. “Did you just use my birthday to get free liquor?”
He looked away from your gaze as he searched through his blazer's inner pockets. “I’m an opportunist man,” he brushed off.
The audacity of men.
You crossed your arms. “How long will I have to bear being with you? If you haven't gauged, I don't like you very much,” you boldly stated. It’s been more than two hours and the sky hasn't given you a glance of blue yet. You were still very exhausted, and honestly, could use a glass or two of a glass of whiskey right about now, ignoring how early or late it currently was for alcohol.
Kishibe removed a flask from his pocket before answering your question. “‘Till I think you’re competent enough to handle a contract,” he answered. He took a swig of God knows what from his flask before adding with a bored sigh: “So whenever I want.”
You make the mature decision to not respond, and another silence ensues. You lean into the leather-like cushions, unbuttoning your blazer for comfort. In this silence you get lost in your thoughts; rethinking life choices.
Why become a devil hunter? Hell, to be honest, nothing else seemed to matter. Everyone lives through different experiences that gauge their job choice in a way, you guess. You helped your mom bake as a child? Then you likely wouldn't mind owning a bakery.
For you, it wasn't wholesome. You are one of many victims of the Gun Devil manifestation. Both your brother and sister were killed, and in the end, leaving you and your parents never the same. Your parents never got over the death of your siblings. You couldn't blame them. Although, you still wished they were there for you, to help you whereas they didn't. They only pained you more. Making your childhood difficult.
Your school years weren't particularly eventful, school wasn't anything you were particularly bad or good at. You mostly lacked effort or care toward your studies which ended up causing you to drop out of your last year of high school. Throughout the recent years after dropping out, you worked common jobs for cash, yet nothing permanent.
Though, one day on your way to one of your old jobs you happened to witness certified devil hunters take down a devil of some kind. You stood in the crowd among many who watched the fight, and seeing that devil brought a garden of emotions you thought went away, that you hid away the entirety of your life. A colorful assortment of anger and great, great anguish.
You ended up being late to work that day, you remember.
“Didja’ walk?”
You were broken from the past at the extant buzzing of Kishibe’s voice. You idly blinked as his dark stare gradually came into sight and mind. The longer you wordlessly stared, the firmer his stare got, the more annoyed he got, and the more…tense you got.
“…W-What?” you uttered, just so you could respond.
The dumb expression you were giving him, irked Kishibe. And anyone with half a mind of a child could see that from the lack of amusement on his face.
Unless he always looked that grumpy. Did he always look so tired? He looked more awake when you were walking in the snowy breeze to this bar.
Kishibe didn’t answer.
He stared without a peep coming outta him. Though, the longer he stared without a word, the...shyer he noticed your demeanor became from the dead air. The tenseness of it all makes you fitfully crack and tremble. You began to fold. Nowhere near as tough as you proclaimed before with your snippy attitude and words.
Further out in the bar you could hear the sluggish jazz from the record player in the corner, otherwise, there was a silence of a desert amongst you and him. The music soothed Kishibe’s exasperation somewhat and brought him to the realization that particularly, at this point, he didn’t care about you spacing out earlier anymore.
No, it didn’t matter to him. It no longer annoyed him. However, what he was curious about was how you crumbled beneath his gaze now despite spending the last hour together where you’ve played it tough like a stray.
It was evident to Kishibe how your newfound jitteriness contrasted greatly with your prior smartass demeanor. He noticed now instead of the iceberg-like stance you held earlier, you seemed to have now melted. How your tinted red-colored lips trembled as you were in the middle of a blizzard, how your eyes shifted to avoid contact, and how they struggled to stay open and keep straight. This shift seemingly came from negative zero.
Kishibe removed his gaze from you, the white flags waving in the air. He scratched his stubble as he faintly sighed the rest of his annoyance away and made the decision to keep his eyes low and repeat himself.
“Didja walk to the hotel? It’s late after all.”
“Oh.” Right, that. You were honestly just relieved that he spoke. You slouched back into the cushions. “My father, uh, dropped me off near the distasteful location you told me to arrive at,” your tone gradually picked back up.
Kishibe chuckled, barely noticed by ya. “What? Never been to a hotel?” he jested, dryly.
You crossed your arms and leaned back as fast as a jet. “I don’t like waiting for someone to get themselves off, literally, before doing their job,” you lectured. “It’s rather disgusting.”
“Never asked to train ya. So I’m fitting you into my schedule. Not the other way around. And I wasn’t “getting myself off.” ‘Twas a meeting with an old friend," he explained. "Not that you had to know that.”
It wouldn’t be rude to say you didn’t believe him, but you found it hard to believe him. Whatever, you disregarded that thought. You didn’t care about his business on the side or his business in general. No. You wanted to know how all this aligns with you becoming a devil hunter. Hell, you almost forgot why you were here with this man you did not know.
“Why did you bring me here?” you asked.
“Tsk. It’s a pub. You drink at a pub," he reasoned.
You positioned your palm on your cheek, resting your elbow on the table. “Trynna make’ conversation seems highly pointless with ya, huh?”
You were growing tired of the cat and dog play.
Kishibe looked over your shoulder and lingered over it for a second “…Your life’s full of irony, ain’t it?”
“Excuse me?” You didn't know if he was mocking you.
Kishibe grimaced. “You complained about conversation, I’m making conversation." He rested his hands on the table and elaborated. "What’s your cruel joke? Life’s full of them, and you, to me, embody a senseless life that bores.” He then shrugs. “That’s just my opinion of you, though.”
This was a game of insulting one another.
Despite this— “I’ll bite," you spoke. —You pressed start.
In the freezing bar current, your statement remained static. “To me, you embody a man who’s never found his purpose in life. Whether that was a person or thing, you haven’t found either that was willing to stay. Who knows why? Possibly…the reason you can’t be happy, and keep joy, is because of yourself. That is quite cruel and hilarious.”
As if on cue, the bartender returned to the man's table quietly. Neither of you two looked up at him as he placed your glasses in front of you, eyes rather on each other sharply, instead.
“Enjoy. Happy birthday, miss," the bartender remarked.
Instead of leaving immediately after setting the liquor down, he puts something else in front of you in addition to your drink, forcing you to remove your view from the devil hunter.
A cupcake was placed next to your iced whiskey. The cake was a bit squished and despite the multicolored icing not being perfectly arranged, you didn't mind; each sprinkle sparkled in your eyes.
While you were staring at the cupcake, time passed as if you were submerged in water, and before you knew it, the bartender had left before you could even thank him. Though you doubt your pride would ever let ya.
Kishibe hisses after harshly ingesting the alcohol, you couldn't stop the drawing of your stare at the lining of his throat or the scar near his lips. “Don’t go on boring me, chump," he said. "You’re good company. So enjoy yourself.”
The introduction of Kishibe was both the beginning of your training as a devil hunter and the start of your the new world you stepped into. The fact that you knew he was going to become a bastard in your life, as well as him knowing that, however, did not stop you both from being drawn to one another’s presence.
Kishibe’s insight was so wrong, yet so right at the same time. That birthday was like the sky that day: a twilight. A twinge of both the best and worst day of your life.
The sky had a horrendous stench.
Sitting on the corner, away from your parents' home, you reflected on the recent fight that had shattered your relationship. It had been a few weeks since you had embarked on your new career as a devil hunter, and you hadn't yet found the courage to tell your parents about this drastic change in your life, knowing how it would affect them to be reminded of the Gun Devil, even if it was indirect. The argument had been intense, filled with harsh words and painful accusations that cut deep.
In the heat of the moment, the truth about your newfound profession slipped from your lips, a revelation that only served to further escalate the conflict. Their disbelief and scorn were palpable, and their words dripped with disappointment and anger. They couldn't understand why you would choose such a dangerous path, one that seemed to defy all reason and safety. Your mother took it the worst, as you expected.
“We let you go off into the world and this is what you do?! A devil hunter? Are you insane?!”
As the argument escalated, you felt a growing sense of frustration and isolation. The weight of their disapproval pressed down on you, making it difficult to breathe. In the back of you head, you could hear the voices of your siblings, once so close and supportive, now so far and gone.
You attempted to calm her down, but that just fed the fire.
“No! Do not tell me to calm down when you’re acting yet again insane! I can only handle so much from you! Do you understand how hard it is, as a mother, to watch their daughter ruin their life over and over again.”
And you could only take so much berating from her.
“Whatever, mom. Go ahead and bitch and complain all you want. Act like the fucking poor old mother you are. A forever victim!”
As always, your father attempted to stop these arguments, but also ended up doing the opposite. “Don’t speak to your mother that way!” he lectured.
Your teeth grind against the other. “How about she stops speaking to me that way! Then perhaps I’ll stop. Since whenever I accept the yelling you stay silent and NEVER defend me. But oh no, as soon as I say something I’m the one who’s being disrespectful. I’m tired of this twisting and turning bullshit in this house!”
You had turned your anger to your father. “You’re the one who TOLD me to find a job, and that is what I did!”
He furrowed his brows. “We didn’t tell you to be a devil hunter! Of all things, _____!” he shouted.
Your mother sobbed into her fist, bringing the attention to her sunken form. “A-After…after everything we went through. You do this. Why? Just to spite us?”
Her tears bring you no pity, just frustration. “Am I even a part of that “we?” Am I?”
The words exchanged during the fight cut deep, leaving scars that seemed impossible to heal. It was then that you realized that you needed to distance yourself from the toxicity of the situation. Seeking solace and guidance, you remembered Kishibe, the only contact you had in your phone in this isolating world.
With trembling hands, you dialed the number he had given you after your first encounter. The phone rang, each tone echoing in your ears like a countdown to a new beginning.
Kishibe's voice, filled with a mix of confusion and tiredness, came thought your phones speakers. “Hello? _____?”
Your lack of of a swift response caused him put two and two together. “Tell me your location. I’ll get you pick up.”
You ended up mustering up the corner you were on, and he immediately arranged for a taxi to pick you up, whisking you away from the chaos of your parents.
As the taxi arrived, you could feel the tension in your muscles begin to ease. Kishibe greeted you with a nod. You then drove away from the familiar streets, venturing into the unknown. The world outside your parents' home suddenly seemed vast and full of possibilities.
Kishibe took you to an old bar, a place where fellow devil hunters gathered to frequently from the appearance of the people in it. It was a refuge for those who had made the same choice you had, who had dared to confront the darkness lurking in the shadows. Kishibe sat you down and you spoke your story with the influence of alcohol.
“Life changed for everyone after the Gun Devil’s attack, including my families. I wasn’t always an only child. I had an older brother and baby sister,” you put out. “I was really the middle child back then. But my parents never gave me any less attention than any of my other siblings. Until they died. They were never the same after that.”
You stared into your glass. “With their deaths, I truly became the middle child. Hell, more like the neglected child,” you concluded.
Kishibe nodded, cup in hand. “You sure have baggage.”
You leaned into your palm. “Mhm.”
The night was long and comforting with Kishibe’s company. It was what you needed. A distraction.
As the night grew late and your conversation deepened, Kishibe kindly offered to walk you to a nearby motel instead of returning you to your parents' house. It was a gesture of friendship and concern. You both then ambled along the dimly lit streets, the silence occasionally punctuated by the sounds of your footsteps. The cool night breeze whispered through the trees, bringing a sense of calm to your weary minds. The glow of streetlights cast a soft illumination on the path, creating a tranquil atmosphere as you both delved into more personal topics.
During the walk, Kishibe gave you his two cents. “Loving someone is bothersome. Especially family of all things. They don’t have to be a part of your life, you know? It's a misconception to believe just ‘cause they’re family you’re required to love them. That you need them. You don’t need them if all they do is piss you off and show no purpose. Why put in the effort for someone you can’t even stand?”
You sighed. “Honestly cooking though, at this point imagining a relationship with my parents is beyond useless. Just…I waited this long to move out because…I wanted to fix things first. But relationships are bothersome and they drive me insane.”
He nodded, taking out a cigarette. “They are,” he replied.
You point at the stick. “You got one to spare?”
Kishibe shrugged as he passed you the cigarette. “Your first?” he asked.
You shook your head. “I smoked a bit in high school,” you admitted as he lit it from your grip.
He chuckled. “It’s apparent.”
You shifted your eyes. “Ha. Ha. Ha,” you laugh sarcastically before taking a long swig of the nicotine.
Once Kishibe and you arrived at the motel, the flickering neon sign greeted you with a faded glow. The motel itself appeared weathered and worn, its exterior clad in peeling paint and patches of cracked concrete. The flickering fluorescent lights along the walkway cast long, eerie shadows on the ground, adding to the sense of mystery that enveloped the place.
You frowned. “This is the place?”
Kishibe blew out smoke. “Yeah, shaggy establishment, I know. Good for now though.” He guided you to the door of a room on the ground floor. “I’ll help ya with apartment searching tomorrow after your training,” he said.
You leaned against the door, removing the cigarette from your lips. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude towards Kishibe. His kindness and generosity in offering to accompany you to the motel and just hanging out with you this late and sudden had caught you by surprise. It was a side of him you had never seen before, and it touched you deeply.
You turned to Kishibe with a sincere expression on your face. “Kishibe. Thank, for all of this. I didn’t have anyone else to call and your insight and kindness…I appreciate.”
He burns out his own cigarette.
“Yeah, well, you can call me for these things.”
You smile up at him, sensually.
“And what about other things?”
“Depends what those other things are.”
You move closer, before then kissing him while reaching up on your tiptoes, enjoying the sensation of his stubble pressing against your face. He does not pull away.
After a moment, you move away, hands still on his shoulders. “These things continues inside,” you alluded.
Abruptly, he grabs your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes on his as he uttered, “I’ll oblige.”
Then the night was forgotten.
An eerie hum permeated the air as you ventured further along the ghost town beside Kishibe, sending shivers down your spine. The source of the humming remained elusive, echoing through the stillness of the surrounding landscape. The sky above was a haunting sight, its once vibrant blue hue muted and dulled the further you two walked. Thick layers of clouds blanketed the heavens, their sinister presence casting a veil of mystery and forebode ahead.
It had been about a few weeks since that night, and in that time your relationship has transcended to an intimate manner almost. Nothing official. Never was anything official with Kishibe, but rather, comforting. And he just so happened to be around when you needed somebody, and you didn't have anybody but him right now anyhow after abandoning your parents in your old civilian life that was one bad memory away.
While searching the abandoned area, with the bleak and dull sky serving as a backdrop to your conversation, Kishibe went and chose for this moment to reveal something important.
“_____. You’re at a point where, in my professional opinion—“
You interrupt him instantly. “—a lot of things about us are not professional.”
He cleared his throat, disregarding your comment. “Despite that, in my professional opinion, I believe you’re ready for a contract. With a devil,” he stated.
This made you loss for words. “Oh.”
You knew the end of your training as a devil hunter was nearing, but with his confirmation, you felt a sense of disbelief and nostalgia as you reflect on all your time spent with Kishibe. Your shared experiences and the knowledge he has imparted to you and how he has shaped your understanding of the Devil hunting world left you wistful with the memories.
Kishibe pocketed his hands. “It’s a big decision. You have to be certain in these contracts as these are devils who want nothing more than to eat you alive,” he advised.
“Who are you contracted with?” you ask out of curiosity.
Kishibe pauses, his gaze penetrating yours. “That’s irrelevant.”
“How? Maybe I’ll contract with that devil,” you suggested.
He changes the topic of discussion. “There is one devil that I’ve heard around. They have great strength and contracts give great power.”
You asked him who the devil was.
“The mermaid devil.” The devil who embodies the fear of mermaids. “They apparently only do contracts with women and their contracts are intimate, to put it simply. I’ve heard stories of it removing women's breasts in multiple contracts, hell, in some cases, they’re clitoris.”
Kishibe scratches the tip of his nose. “‘Tis a twisted devil. A devil with a particular taste and type that influences its willingness to do contracts. I’m letting you know this so you don’t walk in blind, okay? What do you say, so I can set this up for you?”
His words resonated deeply within you, and you nod solemnly, understanding the weight of his words to you.
“Right. I think… I’ll go for it.”
"I'll set it all up then. For tomorrow probably."
You still had this, not fear, but intimidation of devils, that strung from fear. But devil’s devour that fear and are born from it, you remember. You shake your head and leave the conversation to die there as you silently continue patrolling alongside Kishibe, cherishing the remaining moments together and mentally preparing yourself for the challenges ahead.
With the evening sky painted hues of orange and pink, Kishibe and you arrived at the door of your new apartment that he recently helped you move into. The air carried a gentle breeze, setting a serene atmosphere around the area. You both had just finished our patrol and despite the fading light, there was an unspoken reluctance from you to part ways.
You held your keys. “Thanks. For the walk I guess.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth where he bore his scar as you always did after he walked you home. Upon pulling away, you found Kishibe staring down at you, examining.
He narrowed his eyes. “Spit. What is it?” He could feel your apprehensiveness about him leaving.
You cradled his face.
“Tomorrow. Will you come with me tomorrow?”
The realization that you were about to encounter the mermaid devil, a mythical and dangerous being, was impossible to ignore. Despite your best efforts to maintain composure, worry seeped into your thoughts, and you were unable to hide the anxiety that was racing through you.
Kishibe shoves you up against the door, suddenly taking your breath and anxieties away.
“Kay. Want me to stay the night?”
You cling to him by grabbing his shoulders.
“Please, Kishibe.” And with that plead, he obliged.
Anticipation and impatience started to build up within you as you waited for Kishibe. He had spent the night at your apartment, however, he was gone with only a note as his trace the next morning. The note contained the location where the Mermaid Devil resided. At first, you didn’t let Kishibe’s sudden exit nerve you and made your way to the location. You didn’t want to worry about it. However, as time ticked away slowly, and as the minutes reacted like wet paint, your anger with the man grew. This meeting with the Mermaid Devil was too important to be delayed any further.
You stared at the note Kishibe scribbled before crushing it into your palm. “The audacity of men.”
Realizing that you couldn't wait indefinitely, you made the difficult decision to proceed alone. Despite your frustration with Kishibe's absence, you knew you had to confront the devil and face whatever challenges awaited you regardless.
Despite feeling frightened, you summoned your courage and stepped into the formidable building, alone and with your will only. Once inside, you identified yourself and your purpose for being there, and without hesitation, two gentlemen in suits guided you towards a hall. The hall had no doors, it only contained a solitary elevator at the end of it. That elevator, you three entered.
The sensation of descending into the unknown depths of Hell filled you with a mix of apprehension and determination. The walls of the elevator seemed to close in on you, amplifying the sense of isolation and impending doom. The absence of any numbers on the buttons only added to the surreal and ominous nature of this journey. Yet, you focused on maintaining your courage, reminding yourself of the purpose that brought you here.
You had to confront this Devil and face whatever challenges lay ahead with its power, even if it meant venturing into the darkest recesses imaginable. The thought of Kishibe's absence still frustrated you, but you couldn't let that deter you from your path. You could hear your mothers screaming, your father's protest, and could visualize your siblings' last moments before the end. You’ve come too far.
As the elevator continued its descent, you steeled my nerves and mentally prepared yourself for what awaited you. You knew I had to be prepared for the unimaginable and confront my deepest fears head-on. This was not a logical situation, and you couldn't rely on rationality alone.
‘These are devils who want nothing more than to eat you alive.’
The silence within the elevator was deafening, broken only by the low hum of its descent. The air grew colder, and a sense of foreboding hung in the atmosphere.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the elevator came to a halt. The doors opened, revealing a dimly lit corridor that stretched out into the distance. There was no sunlight, there was no blue sky, only shadows. The two men in suits gestured for you to proceed, and with a gulp, you stepped out through the gates of Hell.
The corridor seemed to stretch on indefinitely, shrouded in darkness and uncertainty. Each step took echoed ominously, reverberating through the space. The only light came from flickering fluorescent bulbs overhead, casting red, eerie shadows that danced along the doors.
With every step, your courage deepened. You reminded yourself that you possessed the strength and resilience to face this darkness. You couldn't let fear paralyze you. The devils feed on that fear of yours.
After centuries of wandering, you found yourself standing before a door adorned with intricate code screens and sturdy manual locks. The men you escorted you both went to do their jobs. One meticulously inputted a sequence of numbers into the code screens while the other deftly manipulated a set of keys to unlock the physical locks. As the final lock was disengaged, it clattered to the ground, resonating with finality, while the once-dead screens burst to life, radiating a vibrant shade of green. The door, as if anticipating its cue, swung open with remarkable swiftness.
A sense of trepidation coursed through you as one of the men extended his hand into the shadowed void beyond, urging you to enter. With a nervous gulp, you complied, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing upon you. As you stepped forward, the door silently closed behind me, sealing your fate within the enigmatic confines of the chamber.
As you ventured deeper into the cave, the air grew heavier, and a chilling sensation ran down your spine. The faint sound of dripping water echoed in the darkness, creating an eerie ambiance. As you cautiously moved forward, the dim light from your torch illuminated the rocky walls, revealing intricate patterns and strange symbols etched into the stone. The further you explored, the more you became aware of a subtle shift in the atmosphere. It felt as though the very fabric of reality was warping, distorting your senses. The cave seemed to twist and turn in impossible ways, leading you deeper into its mysterious depths. It was as if you were underwater.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the cavern, low and sinister. "So, you've come seeking an audience with me," it hissed, seemingly emanating from all directions at once.
You caught your breath as you turned on the balls of your feet, only to find a tall figure behind you.
The Mermaid Devil stood with an imposing presence, its tall and lanky figure capturing your attention first. Its disturbingly skinny body revealed the outlines of its bones, and Its skin appeared wrinkled and slouchy, lacking color and vitality. Then its long, greasy-looking hair resembled strands of sea grass, cascading down its back was simply putrid. The creature's face remained concealed beneath a veil of its hair, acting like a mask, and only its large, beady, black eyes were visible, peering out from the tangled strands. Those eyes, devoid of any warmth or humanity, held your fear in a grip as they stared at you in wonder and amazement.
Your voice shook as you processed its appearance. “I…heard ya like women.”
It eerily smiles at that. “I…have a preference~” it sang. It squinted its eyes at you. “And you, by far, are the most beautiful women I have laid eyes on. You don’t understand how excited I am seeing you.”
The eerie smile that spread across the mermaid devil's face sent shivers down your spine. Its melodic voice carried a hint of seduction as it spoke, weaving a sinister charm into its words. The creature's squinted eyes locked onto you, intensifying its gaze. "I... have a preference~" it sang, its voice dripping with an unsettling mixture of desire and menace. "And you, by far, are the most beautiful woman I have laid eyes on. You don't understand how excited I am seeing you."
The compliment, though seemingly flattering, felt hollow and disconcerting, coming from such a mysterious and otherworldly being. Its words carried an undercurrent of danger, leaving you with an uneasy sense of being both desired and threatened at the same time. The mermaid devil's intentions remained unclear, but its presence alone spoke of potential darkness lurking beneath its alluring facade.
Your first thought would be to say thank you, yet, you remained silent.
As the mermaid devil continued its unsettling praise, remarking on your ideal femininity and how well you took care of yourself despite being a devil hunter, you couldn't help but feel a mix of discomfort and curiosity.
“I’ve contracted with some women I’ve had to lower my standards for, you know?”
However, you weren't easily swayed by its flattery and decided to confront the rumors you had heard about it. You weren’t here for chatter. "I heard your contracts are extreme," you stated firmly, maintaining your composure. "That you removed one woman's breast who contracted with you."
The mermaid devil quirked its head, seemingly amused by your knowledge. "Ah, you did your research, I see?" it responded. "And what else did I take? I know you know! Come on now, don't be shy~"
Your voice remained steady as you replied, undeterred. "And her clitoris."
The cave echoed with the mermaid devil's laughter, a chilling sound that reverberated through the darkness.
As the mermaid devil's laughter filled the cave, a rush of conflicting emotions surged within you. At that moment, you couldn't help but think of Kishibe, your trainer and, in some complicated way, your lover. Memories of your time together intertwined with a sense of abandonment, as he left you to face this perverse creature alone.
A pang of longing and frustration gripped your heart as you yearned for Kishibe's presence. You wished he were by your side, providing guidance and support in this unsettling encounter. The weight of the situation felt heavier without his reassuring presence, and you couldn't help but question the choices and circumstances that led you to this moment.
"A proud woman you are!" it exclaimed, finding amusement in your lack of hesitation. "No shame in your voice. None at all! I love it!”
The exchange unveiled a disturbing aspect of the mermaid devil's contracts, suggesting a grotesque and invasive nature. Its laughter, filled with a mix of pleasure and malevolence, hinted at a deeper darkness lurking within its realm. While you longed for Kishibe's companionship, you also grappled with a desire to escape the clutches of the mermaid devil, who continued to exude a menacing charm. The feeling of vulnerability intensified, and a deep-seated fear stirred within you.
“So you think you’re up to it, mortal?” it challenged.
“Get on with it. What’s our contract?”
The weight of the situation and the unsettling encounter with the mermaid devil consumed you, a profound realization struck: your life had taken a turn for the worst. The absence of Kishibe, both as your trainer and potential lover, left a void that seemed insurmountable.
Deep down, you knew that to find solace in life and perhaps mend the relationship, you needed to have a heartfelt conversation with Kishibe. Understanding why he left you in such a vulnerable position would be crucial for your healing and for any hope of rebuilding a healthy connection. You recognized that he must have had his reasons, and unraveling those reasons required open and honest communication.
However, a sense of doubt and resignation crept in. Why bother? Was it worth the effort and emotional investment to seek reconciliation? The pain and confusion caused by Kishibe's actions made it tempting to give up, to wallow in the bitterness and despair that surrounded you.
The flickering flame of the candle Kishibe once ignited had gradually diminished, casting a fading glow in the past. However, later in your life, that very same candle would find itself reignited, filling the surroundings with a radiant beam of light once more.
If you'd be willing to then maybe do Himeno, Makima and Kishibe and how they'd care for their devil hunter s/o (gender neutral pronouns please) after they got injured after a particularly rough devil hunting assignment! :)
TAKING CARE OF DEVIL HUNTER S/O HCS
feats: himeno, kishibe & makima
warnings: no pronouns used
summary: in which they’re dating another devil hunter, and their s/o gets injured while on duty, and how they would care for them afterwards.
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST FORM
authors note: this request is right up my alley. thank you for the request, anon! this is actually my first time writing makima and himeno alone along with writing a head canon (it's been years) so please bare with me.
HIMENO
her dating another devil hunter is probably for the best.
— I can picture Himeno having many failed relationships just because she's a devil hunter. In the world of Chainsaw Man, the occupation is not exactly viewed in a positive light, so normally most civilians would like to avoid devil hunters or devil hunters hoping for a life outside of work would keep it a secret from others.
— Himeno, in my opinion, wouldn't attempt to keep this part of her life hidden and would be open about it.
— It doesn't really matter if you work in the same division or a different one then her; Himeno knows a lot of people in the industry and I can imagine her socializing outside of hers frequently, where she would eventually meets you :)
— I dunno, it just works with you being a devil hunter.
— She doesn't have to worry about you interrogating her extensively or being excessively concerned about her well being as an average person would.
— Simply because you are familiar with her situation. You've walked in her shoes and you don't judge her "recklessness" or "rashness", and that bare minimum means a lot to her.
— Himeno would also compare you a lot to Aki. Those qualities she loves in you, I think she probably also loved in Aki as well. In addition to the fact that you're a devil hunter, like Aki, I think she would just feel this way generally in a relationship. A rebound if you would. Someone like Aki.
— Although she would never express these thoughts out loud to you, you may notice this with time in your relationship and may cause future complication.
now you getting hurt on duty is a mix and mix.
— A while back, I actually wrote a one-shot about Himeno visiting an acquaintance in the hospital or something? I remember portraying her as being quite calm and casual when she entered the hospital. I think she would act similarly to this with her significant other.
— Hospitals are nothing Himeno is unfamiliar with, and neither should they be to you. Hospital visits are typical, common, and anticipated given the occupations you both have. Along with death always being a possibility.
— Hell, the possibility of dying of a Devil attack as a civilian alone is typical so deaths of devil hunter’s, who actively pursue these spawns from Hell, are even more common.
— When walking into your room she would be calm and no worry on her explicitly face. Serene cause you lived.
— She would torment you and make fun of you until your face flames. Though after her teasing and it's time for you to come home, she'll take care of you, tenderly. Doing your house chores, feeding you, and tending to your wounds.
— Himeno sort of views these times together as brief dates. Other than passing each other off at work or whatever, you don't spend much time together on actual dates. So, these days of sickness and recuperation are full of fluff.
KISHIBE
him dating a devil hunter is expected.
— I believe that only another devil hunter can really comprehend Kishibe, grasp his thoughts, and truly understand why he is the way he is and why he behaves in the manner in which he does, you know?
— So again, it's expected. If Kishibe is gonna be in a relationship its likely gonna be with another devil hunter.
— This relationships, though, would undoubtedly not develop overnight. It would take some time for you two, colleagues, to choose to part ways from your employment relationship. Maybe a few years as co-workers before taking that step. However in that time it gives more certainty to the both of you of your feelings for one another.
— You grow to learn his mind, and him, yours.
— With you both being devil hunters means you share a few outlooks and habits that civilians may find unusual. Kishibe also considers it's a good thing that you're a devil hunter since you don't nag him about it the way any of his exes did.
now you getting hurt on duty is, also, expected.
— It simply comes with the territory. You didn't die so...
— Both of you are aware of your mortality and the extremely high death rate in your professions. Furthermore, Kishibe is more cognizant of this part of the work. I kind of imagine him being in the game longer then you.
— The majority of the time, you get wounded, and he has to take care of you. Mostly due to Kishibe's stubbornness, which causes him to brush off injuries and not view them as anything that requires your help. Your injuries on the other hand? Yep, you need him to deal with that.
— He is virtually as knowledgeable about treating most of these injuries as a first responder, so that is also incredibly helpful in situations like this too.
— Kishibe uses all of the time he has for your recuperation even though he is sometimes too busy at work to devote his entire day to caring for your injuries.
— Throughout the day, he would call you while he's out to see how you're handing, to make sure you were eating properly, washing your wounds at the proper time, and generally healing without any problems.
— He might not stay with you during your ENTIRE recovery or make it to the hospital before it's time for you to go home, but he will be there that night to help you, and that will be more than enough for the vast majority.
MAKIMA
her dating a devil hunter is “controversial,” technically…
— She would technically be your superior, though. No matter what division you are in, she is practically still in a more advantageous position than you.
— You would think it would spark a controversy, yet nobody actually challenges it. Mostly because no one cared about the devil hunters workplace and because the profession itself is so crooked. Therefore, you dated with no issue.
— You and Makima would not hide the fact that you are in a relationship. In any case, she wouldn't tell you to not tell people about your relationship with her or anything.
— Tell everyone, she doesn't mind, be public about it.
— However, you know better then to be touchy in public.
— That's her only rule. That you can't touch her in public, especially at work or anything like that. She wouldn't want to be viewed in that way in her respected position at hand.
— And you respect her, so you know better then to not.
now you getting hurt on duty is anticipated.
— You aren’t in a position of power and strength like Makima, as I have mentioned before, so she merely anticipated that you would sustain injuries regularly.
— However, it's as if you hurt yourself at the worst times.
— It's always when she doesn't have a moment to spare for you when you need her the most. Makima is a busy woman and a career woman, so when you get injured, it irritates her a little and she makes her desire to persuade you to quit your work and remain at home, but doing so would cause further problems that she is more so unable to deal with.
— She won't be around much while you're recovering. As soon as she learns that you've been injured she may stop by later that day to examine how serious your injuries are and whether you're still alive, but as soon as she's done assessing the issue, she resumes working.
— In place of her visits, gifts and flowers with little notes inside would be given to you practically every day. It was difficult for you to be frustrated over her absence because the letters were so sincerely written and wished you well.
Summary: Winds fierce enough to burn a dragon in a pinch blasted the skies, the land, the ocean, and the mighty mountains. Dreamily the sky twinkled and winked, and had absorbed your lost, confused gaze. Your first memory in this life was this mountain, a mountain full of plant life and animal life all around you. How did you find yourself here? You constantly wondered. As you silently watched creatures, both plants and animals, survive and then die, time blurred. There was something fascinating about the cycle of life. Until one day, a distance away, you spotted a coastal village. You were concerned about what might happen if you were to wander away from the mountain that has been your home. Till a lost angel appeared.
A/N: it's been awhile since i posted on here, been busy with exams and work. i just haven’t had time to finish things.
I started this oneshot almost half a year ago on ao3 and have finally finished it. i wrote it in a vauge way and realized this after a finishing it. hopefully you can still enjoy it.
WORD COUNT // 4991 words
WARNINGS: Implied Death, Angst, CSM Spoliers (?)
CSM TAGLIST: N/A
As fierce as a dragon in a pinch, the winds of the sky and land consecrated the atmosphere and ground, braiding itself between the ocean waves and mountain peaks. Dreamingly, the sky twinkled and winked at you absentmindedly. In turn, absorbing your lost and disoriented gaze. You found yourself in a place familiar but unknown. In a world old but renewed. Each intrinsic act of nature caused your tender and youthful skin to tremble.
A continuous hum of the breeze, it whips past you, making your naked skin frigid.
Standing bare and naked in a field of lush nature, you marveled at the enchanting view of the scene from atop the garden-coated cliff. The sight was simple and clean. You were not prone to humiliation, and your naked form demonstrated that. Shame was something you had yet experienced or know. This serene mountain and its tranquil sights were the very first remembrances you underwent in this lifetime. A mountain brimming with sustaining vitality and illustrative animal life.
The only thing you could do was gape in awe. Watching as the animal, which was equipped with teeth, wings, and more, devoured the plants and creatures. The sights appeared to be familiar to you. Being able to observe the plants almost passively allowing themselves to be eaten, together with the helpless prey that sought safety from the predators, was strange. They were so helpless in the face of predators.
You noticed these things.
As the days turned into weeks and those into months, you were on your hurried expedition with your lonesome. The phantom mountain was surrounded by eerie insects that were unfamiliar to your vivid mind, and they attached themselves to you. Each time it did so, it bit you, showing you through its actions how you had no place in the outside world. That your kind was neither desired nor wanted. Your manifestation was not asked for, but rather despised, as you are born from the dread of time.
How did you find yourself here, you wondered.
Time was a blur as you silently observed creatures, plants, and animals alike, all surviving then dying. Just to watch the cycle repeat, you bore witness. After living this cycle for who knows how long, a twitch of bravery swept over you, and you ventured further afield from your comfort zone. With a blanket of moss wrapped around your dirt-covered body, you explored the new arena.
On this venture of bravery and wonder, you encounter new plants and new animals. Increasingly, an ecosystem is reimagined in a brand-new way in today's world. It amazed you how places so diverse could all be stationed in the same place. Many of the animals here were friendly to you. They were prey and had no fear of the passing of time.
One creature small in stature stood out to you.
A creature as white as snow, and ears that reached the heavens, yet the size of a hefty potato.
Groups of the creatures ran through the stunted grass, and around your bare, cut up feet. One of these fluffy animals stood out to you. So much so that you ended up naming her for the first time. A name and time you found beautiful and pretty, Day. She found a liking to you after you gave it the orange stick it was having trouble pulling out of the ground. She often rested on your shoulder and chest, soft fur cuddling you as the moonlight lured you both to rest.
Animals were innocent. They prayed on instinct, with no free will. They could do no wrong. Just like you. You enjoyed the rabbits company in this lone abandoned world, but your childhood wonder never faltered. Your tongue craved the taste of a meal. Though, you didn’t eat. Never have you. You feared it. You didn’t know why though.
Additionally, it was beyond your primary concern.
To pass the time, you watched and followed the wild rabbit on its adventures in survival. In the beginning, before you met the wild animal, you never really spoke, until you came across another like yourself.
One day, a distance away, you spotted a coastal village, a community that looked quite different to you. Your curiosity warmed your body and intoxicated your mind, and you craved to explore and understand. Your time here was nearly impossible to put into words. You guess you could say it was enjoyable, you had Day after all. However, in truth, you were fearful of what could happen in time…if you were to wander in a place unknown to you; a species forgotten in your memory. Days after your discovery, you pondered on your next choice.
The stress overcame you, and before giving up on your curiosity to explore another arena, a lost angel emerged from a cave behind a small waterfall.
You could still see him however.
Silently, you made eye contact with his light eyes. He stared back at you from across the pond where you stood in your glory, a slothful rabbit on your shoulder. Without a hitch, you dropped yourself into the pond and swam to the hidden cave behind the puddling waterfall.
The water was cold upon impact. Dirt was erased from your body and face as you swam the short distance, holding your rabbit above water, acting as a lift of sorts. Your spirial eyes however never left the angel, and he didn't run away for some reason. The twirls of hoops that stood as your irises were enticing. Your eyes stared at each other curiously. Being by yourself for so long, and never seeing anything like yourself, left you needy for thr interaction.
Water dripped down your body as you made it to land. You first placed Day on the ground gently, and she began to shake off the water. In front of you was a male with shaggy hair resting on his dainty shoulders. He was pale beyond belief. You assumed he didn't leave the dark cave very often.
You gulp. Your mouth was dry as he stared at your figure and you absorbed his facial features. His back was against the wall he sat against. You stood near the cave entrance still, water dripping down to your feet. You slowly approached him; he exhaled sharply as you did.
You stop in front of him. He flinches.
You crouch down a few feet away from him. Your rabbit waddled its way towards you, done with its exploration of the cave, and began cuddling against you.
Your eyes crinkle as you smile.
You rubbed their fluffy ears as you thought of what to say. In order to introduce yourself to the lost angel, you had named yourself after the beloved friend that you adore.
“Call me _____. It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?” Your words echoed throughout the cave and around it. Angel did not blink, he did not breathe. Your presence made him feel as if the entire world was stuck in time.
His stomach curled up as your gaze pierced through it, and his mouth dried up.
He licked his lips and began to speak as you silently waited for any movement of his. “I suppose…I’m Angel,” he said, hesitantly.
You didn’t say anything. Then you got up again, picking up your friend, Day, as you did so, and got back to your feet. Trying to grasp the meaning of this encounter, your eyes danced around the dark cave. The angel remained on the ground as you observed the cave he had claimed.
He stared at your lips which began to move.
"Ah, Angel," you whisper.
You give the name time to settle on your tongue. “I wonder...how we found ourselves here?” you faltered. Your eyes wandered the dark cave interior, as if the answer to your curiosity was among the walls. You were connected to Angel in a diabolical manner that you couldn't explain.
The halo above his head seemed to shimmer as he whispered, "…I wonder that too, ______.”
You were both as old as time.
Two wisdoms comparable to one child.
Morning days were young and with the sun being shy to emerge itself from the clear, pastel sea, where the waves were gentle and shallow, so were the evenings.
It has been months since you found yourself in this wilderness. Therefore, as this current moment of time consumed your inquisitiveness with each ticking second, the vagueness of the past gradually lost its relevance to you. Instead, you’ve grown a passion for the present.
The pebbles beneath your head and back were just as frigid as the river water you were submerging your feet in as you peered up at the evening sky. Day, your close companion, slept soundly on your tummy, snoring peacefully with rest. The miles-long cloud cover in the sky prevented you from blinking, but as soon as you did, you were able to watch the clouds gently, apparently floating away toward whatever land that was afar.
“Ah, Angel?” you called out for him. Your voice was one with the breeze and as calm as. “Day or night?”
Angel was a distance away from you, underneath a tree that stood close by the river. Under it, hidden from view, he was crouched on the grass. Because of this, you carefully listened to what he had to say with the lack of visuals. “Um…I would suppose night as it’s a world full of darkness, and that darkness is rather…evocative.”
You rolled onto your stomach, causing Day to scramble off of you, and faced him. The wet grass rubbed against your skin sloppily, frigid mud smearing on your skin, but you didn’t mind. “A world…full of darkness?” you questioned.
Your eyes; Angel couldn’t look in your eyes. Not with those rings that spiralled In obscure angles, if he stared long enough he would’ve thought your irises twisted ovally, like a Ferris wheel, ticking counter-clock wise like a hour hand would. You absorbed him in a moment of time, merely with your engrossment.
Angel’s exhaled shakily as he turned away. “….Yes. My memories…are sheltered within that—darkness. It’s all I remember from my past. Why…do you ask?” he pondered.
Day crawled themselves underneath your laying form, cuddling your chest and absorbing your heat. You appease the rabbit as you scratched it in the spot it liked.
“Hearing you speak is all I wanted, Angel.”
Days had passed since he last talked, and it had been weeks since you came across him. The majority of the time, your traveling companion was only accompanying you and following you because he felt fascinated by you and compelled to do so. The impulse to follow along when one encounters an adventurer who seems unrestricted.
“And what is your preference, ______?” Angel asked.
You quirked a brow. “Day or night?
He nodded.
The sunlight was disappearing by the seconds and each second felt everlasting as you hummed.
“Hmmmmm, day. Because…well, I don’t know actually. I don’t dwell on things, or wonder why very much.”
Angel couldn’t help but comment on that. “I can see that.”
You glance at Day, who rested, before remarking:
"The animals here share that mentality. Which is why I relish my appearance with them. They worry not of time thus they're never dreading death. Similarly to myself."
There was a pause before Angel frowned. "I hate animals."
Day’s ear, in rest, twitches narrowly.
"…You must hate death also," you conclude.
Everything you did, and everything you felt, you absorbed; soaking in knowledge and experience.
You shut your eyes tightly and covered your ears heavily. At the top of the mountain, the wind blew by so quickly that all you could feel was the breeze rushing by; all you could hear was the hazy murmur of rough currents pounding the sides of your head. The winds tortured your senses, and right now, you needed to think freely.
You opened your eyes slowly and took a deep breath.
You looked out into the distance, the same sight you caught before, a daint village near a beach encasing your view. Alas the traveling has ended. When you peeked over the mountain edge, the climb down was visually rocky and choppy, dangerous overall. It was a good thing Angel was with you because if you had tried to do that climb alone, it was certain that it would not have gone smoothly.
Though, it wasn’t all that certain that the trip down would go smoothly now as a duo.
As you turned to face Angel, you noticed that they were also looking at the steep descent with a furrowed brow. The two of you had been on the walking for weeks, traveling together to get to this exact spot. Now that you were finally here, the reality of the situation was beginning to set in. You could tell that Angel was feeling apprehensive about the climb down, and you couldn't blame them. The rocky terrain looked even more treacherous from this height.
Day stood next to your leg, fur rubbing against your feet. The feeling of their fur absorbed your concerns for a simple moment.
As you crouched down and rubbed behind Day's ears, memories flooded your mind. You remembered the day you found Day wandering alone in the woods, with no mother or siblings in sight. The little rabbit had been so small and vulnerable, and you knew you had to take care of them.
Ever since then, Day had been your constant companion throughout your journey. They had brought you comfort during the long and lonely nights, and their soft fur had provided warmth when the cold became too much to bear. You had grown attached to the little rabbit, and the thought of leaving them behind made your heart ache.
You knew, however, that bringing Day with you was impossible. The climb down from the mountain was treacherous and dangerous, and even if Day survived the fall, they would not be able to keep up with your pace. You couldn't bear the thought of Day being left behind, but you had no other choice.
You took one last look at Day, who had now fallen asleep. ”Day, I cannot bring you with me. You must stay on the mountain.” Your words go unheard as all you heard in response were Day’s little snores. You gently stroked their fur for the very last time before standing up from that spot.
Angel watched you from the short distance.
You walked beside him near the cliff, leaving Day behind before she could notice you had left. You then pointed in the distance.“That’s the village,” you state. “There will be others there. However, the climb is quite challenging. We’ll be able to do it together if we use each other as support.”
You leaned over the cliff, holding your hand behind yourself for Angel to grab. “Hold my hand. I’ll balance you and we’ll go together,” you tell him.
Instead of reaching for your hand, he pulls both his hands to his chest frantically. “I can’t. Please, leave me. I beg you to leave me behind _____.”
Your hand retreats and you turn back to him. “Why do you insist?”
He bit his bottom lip. “I hurt,” he confesses.
“My entire existence is diabolical. I…I drain life-spans with my touch.” His fist shook as he confessed to what he was. “I’m a Devil. And surely, my touch will kill you by the time we make down.…and I fear your death."
The sound of the wind surrounds you like a choir singing in harmony. The mountain is peaceful, and you take a moment to reflect on Angel's confession. You realize that his revelation has given you a sense of comfort and reassurance. For your whole existence in this new world, you felt like an outcast and different from these other lifeforms, carrying a diabolic burden that no one else could understand. But in that moment, you realized that you were not alone. You were both unwanted, facing a world that feared or rejected you.
He was unwanted, but you wanted him.
Despite the fear and danger that Angel's touch posed, you could sense that he was not evil, but rather a victim of his circumstances. You could relate to the pain he felt, the isolation and fear that came with being different.
“Do not be frightened, Angel. As we are all devils sometimes. Doesn’t make us awful. Time is so short and limited that…we feel like every little thing we do in that short time matters, when it doesn't. Rather be changed in the flick of seconds.”
Angel at first hesitates to accept your offer, so you take a step closer to him and gently grasp his hand. For a moment, he looks surprised and uncertain, but as you begin to caress his hand. His hand was limp in yours, as if he's never experienced this kind of touch before, one that isn't laced with fear or rejection. A look of realization then crosses his face as he put each puzzle pieces you together.
“I love you, Angel. As we exist together. You’re a sun. The world needs you, Angel Devil. I’m the moon, constantly chasing after you. Changing time for you,” you confess.
With his hand in yours, you pull him gently towards you, signaling that you want him to follow you down the mountain. Your look around at him as you pulled him. It is the way in which you look around at him, staring into his eyes, and the way in which they tick, that hypnotises him. Your voice comforted any nerve left in his body.
“I’ll love you till the end of time, and I would never change this moment.”
Devil eyes that were as beautiful as an angel: you, the Time Devil.
Time: devourer of all things.
Angel and you strolled along the beach, your entwined fingers serving as a physical reminder of your profound connection, a sense of tranquility enveloped you both. Months to almost a year have passed since you and Angel made the climb down and abandoned the mountains grace, along with leaving Day behind. The villagers of the town had wholeheartedly embraced your presence, and you and Angel’s time spent together had become a cherished tapestry of shared experiences and memories.
Lost in your own world, your steps slowed as Angel noticed a figure in the distance—a woman, her presence commanding attention amidst the vast expanse of sand and sea. An air of intrigue settled over you, prompting a hushed silence to descend upon your conversation. You, ever perceptive, followed his gaze and locked eyes with the enigmatic woman.
“Someone’s on the beach,” Angel stated.
The mysterious figure possessed an ethereal beauty, accentuated by her cascading waves of light red hair, gracefully woven into a loose braid. As the gentle ocean breeze played with her tresses, it seemed to imbue them with a mesmerizing glow. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon, her eyes reflecting the vastness of the ever-unfolding ocean.
“I don’t recognize them. Though I can’t really see them. Perhaps it's someone from another village.”
You squeezed his hand. “Angel, we’re not supposed to approach strangers.”
Nevertheless, curiosity beckoned both Angel and you, urging you forward, hand in hand, toward the unknown. Each step felt weightless yet purposeful, a shared determination to uncover the identity and purpose of this captivating presence.
As you approached, the distant figure turned slightly, her eyes meeting yours with an intense yet gentle gaze. There was an air of familiarity in her expression, primarily her striking yellow eyes with rings. The woman's countenance held a quiet wisdom, as if she had traversed through time itself, collecting its secrets and stories.
She waved the closer you got. “Hello, over here!” she shouted.
The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a subtle backdrop to the profound silence that now enveloped the trio. It was as if time itself held its breath, awaiting the unfolding of this enigmatic encounter. The vastness of the ocean seemed to mirror the vastness of possibilities, as if this meeting held the potential to shape destinies. A sense of connection intertwined the souls of Angel, you, and the mysterious woman, transcending the boundaries of time and space.
There was an unspoken understanding that your paths had converged for a reason, a purpose yet to be revealed. It was a moment suspended in time, pregnant with anticipation and the promise of discovery.
Together, Angel and you stood before the enigmatic figure, ready to embark on a journey that would unravel the tapestry of your lives, and perhaps, hold the key to unlocking the secrets of your intertwined fates. With hearts brimming with curiosity and anticipation, they awaited the words that would inevitably bridge the divide between the known and the unknown, forever altering the course of your shared existence.
Angel did all of the speaking. “Who are you…?” he asked.
Her gaze penetrated your souls, as she broke the silence with a question that sent a jolt through Angel's being. Her voice, soft yet commanding, seemed to resonate with a depth that transcended ordinary conversation. The woman did not acknowledge his inquiry. She openly disregarded you, no, her focus was on Angel solely.
“Say. Show me your power,” she said. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and knowing.
Angel's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He turned to you, his hand gently squeezing yours for reassurance. The weight of the question hung heavy in the air, stirring a myriad of emotions within him.
For a brief moment, the world around Angel seemed to fade away, leaving only the three figures standing on the beach. The salt water drowning the air. Conflicting thoughts and memories swirled in his mind, like whispers of forgotten echoes. The woman's question had struck a chord, awakening a deep longing within Angel—an insatiable thrust of fear.
Angel responded, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “How do you…no way. My…power brings death—”
The woman repeated. “Show me your power.” She then points at you. “That’s a order, Angel.”
At those words, Angel hand dropped from yours, limply.
The atmosphere grew tense as the confrontation escalated. The once familiar gaze in Angel's eyes had been replaced by something unsettling, a sinister presence that had taken hold of him. The turmoil within him was evident, his inner struggle palpable, and it pained you to witness the internal battle he was fighting.
In that critical moment, Angel launched himself toward you, his movements driven by an otherworldly force compelling him to harm you. Fear and sorrow welled up within you, realizing that this was not the Angel you knew, but a puppet under the control of the malevolent entity that had engulfed him.
You focused your gaze on Angel, locking eyes with him as he closed in. There was an unspoken connection between you, a bond forged through shared experiences and genuine affection. Drawing upon that bond, you summoned every ounce of your willpower and directed it towards Angel.
With a forceful point of your finger, you uttered a single word: "Stop."
Time itself seemed to halt for Angel alone. His body froze mid-action, locked in place like an immobile statue. His eyes, once consumed by the Devil's influence, regained a glimpse of their former clarity, revealing a flicker of recognition buried beneath the chaos.
As Angel stood frozen, the atmosphere shifted. The woman, the enigmatic figure orchestrating this confrontation, couldn't help but display a twisted smile of amusement. She reveled in the display of power before her, relishing in the unfolding drama like a puppeteer overseeing her grand performance.
However, she was the last on your mind. You didn’t even spare her a glance as in that frozen moment, a myriad of emotions coursed through your veins. Relief mingled with a profound sadness as you realized the extent of the corruption that had befallen Angel.
You approached Angel cautiously, aware that time was suspended solely for him. With a tender touch, you brushed your hand against his cheek, a gesture laden with love and concern.
The frozen moment seemed to stretch on, each passing second a testament to your unwavering power over time. Yet, you were acutely aware that this was just a respite, a mere delay in the inevitable clash that awaited.
The woman’s amusement remained. She cupped her cheek. “You’re not human. Are you?”
The tension in the room reaches its peak as the confrontation between you and this woman escalates. The air crackles with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and raw power. Her piercing gaze never wavers, locked onto you with an intensity that sends chills down your spine.
You recognize the danger emanating from her, a woman shrouded in mystery and possessing unimaginable strength. She exudes an aura of dominance, as if she is used to being in control of every situation. But in this moment, you stand before her as an equal, ready to challenge her authority.
As you extend your hand, prepared to unleash your formidable ability to freeze time, the woman's movements are swift, almost too fast for your eyes to follow. She points at Angel, her smile widening, her eyes gleaming with a mix of sadistic pleasure and curiosity. A sinking feeling washes over you as you realize you have underestimated her once again.
“Explode.”
Before you can react, a deafening explosion tears through the air, filling the space with a blinding sand and a cacophony of destruction. The force of the explosion rattles your senses, causing your hand to tremble involuntarily. Your eyes widen in shock and horror as the remnants of Angel's existence dissipate into a bloody mess onto your form, and the warmth previously in your palm, now nothing.
The woman stands there, unaffected and unmoved by the chaos she has orchestrated. Her gaze locks onto you once more, this time filled with an unsettling mix of disbelief and calculation.
In that moment, the realization dawns upon you. She has deemed you a threat. She acknowledges that you are a devil of exceptional power, one who possesses the potential to bring about her downfall. A devil of your magnitude, left unchecked, could disrupt the delicate balance she has crafted within this human society.
Before she could speak another word you shut your eyes, a surge of energy courses through your being, and a kaleidoscope of colors dances behind your eyelids. The familiar sensations of your body dissolve, and for a fleeting moment, you feel weightless, as if suspended between reality and the unknown. As time and space bend around you, the outside world blurs and distorts, warping and reshaping like a malleable canvas. In this transcendent state, the boundaries of the present fade away, replaced by a palpable connection to the past.
The sensation is both exhilarating and disorienting, as if you are being stretched and compressed through the fabric of time itself. The passing of a mere second feels like an eternity as you traverse the chronological tapestry. Memories and emotions intertwine, forming a tapestry of experiences that unfolds before your mind's eye. Scenes from bygone days flicker in and out of focus, as if you are leafing through the pages of a forgotten history book.
You then open your eyes, and once again find yourself back at the beach, hand in hand with Angel, just as before. The sun casts a warm glow over the sand, and the rhythmic sound of crashing waves fills the air. However, a sense of foreboding grips your heart as you spot the familiar figure of the woman in the distance.
A shiver runs down your spine, and you instinctively halt, causing Angel to stop beside you. His gaze follows yours, fixed upon the mysterious woman. “Someone’s on the beach,” he commented.
In this moment, you realize that your previous encounter with this woman did not alter your fate but merely delayed it. The knowledge dawns on you that her intentions are sinister, and she poses a grave threat to both you, Angel, but most importantly, the villagers who had only ever been so kind to you. Your mind races, trying to decipher a way to protect them all from the impending danger. At least..for a little longer.
“I don’t recognize them. Though I can’t really see them. Perhaps it's someone from another village?”
Angels words that now sound like a recording are unheard as you stand there, the weight of time burdening upon your shoulders. You know that time is running out, and the choices you make in this crucial moment will determine not only your own destiny but also the safety of your beloved Angel. The stakes are high, and the path forward is uncertain, but you are resolved to fight against the forces that seek to harm you, clinging to the possibility of perhaps rewriting your own tragic ending.
You turn to Angel, grabbing his shoulders. “Angel, I’m going to do something very brash. So that you can live a little longer. If I don’t come back, Angel, just know…that I love you till the end of time.”
He should’ve said he loves you back, but he didn't. He was startled. “What?”
You ignore his response and remove your grip. “Now go back to the village. For everyone's sake.”
Just as your said, Angel sprinted back to the village, confusion clouding his mind. He didn't fully grasp the gravity of the situation or understand the motivations behind the encounter. The urgency in your voice had spurred him into action, but now doubts crept in, accompanied by a sense of unease.
When he turned for one last glance, he saw your figure, walking purposefully toward the women with red hair, who beckoned you, their hands gesturing urgently as they called out words that were carried away by the wind. Angel strained his ears, hoping to catch a snippet of the conversation, but it was futile. Their words remained a mystery to him in this reality. A part of him wanted to go back, to demand answers, but something held him back—a lingering trust your intentions.
Though no one ever saw the you, the Time Devil, again, and little ever got the chance to know of your existence.
All witnesses of you, were dead and gone in the following month after your disappearance, killed by the person who survived—and last saw you.
Painfully, Angel was cursed with never remembering you. Angel forgot a significant moment in his life. A moment in time in which he loved someone, and in turn, was loved back; yet, now the past is far behind him, and the future does not exist.
Summary: Public safety devil hunters are walking hypocrites with morals all over the place like a messy puzzle. That's what they live up to as clichés and stereotypes. In spite of this, Himeno has only come across a few who stand out from this stereotype. You are one. You were the ideal man: married, sickly faithful, and ambition. And Himeno wanted a piece of that, and she typically gets what she wants. It was difficult to keep things on the down low when Himeno openly flirted at work, despite your efforts. You were ashamed of your actions at first, but as time went on, you began to realize and accept how crucial it was to have this affair while you still had the chance.
CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
A/N: I was really nervous writing this as i’m im not overall confident in my portrayal of a male reader so it shows a bit in the writing, not my best, but never my worst.
WORD COUNT // 2561 words
WARNINGS: Infidelity/Unfaithfulness
CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche
Devil hunters lack morals.
They are individuals who, as their name implies, fight against Devils whenever a threat associated with them arises in the world. In this profession, contracts are made with thus Devils. Morals and even self-respect are exchanged for diabolical leverage for the chance to thwart the next beast. The last straw, in the eyes of the public, is these devil hunters buddy up with bloodstained fiends. Unlike police officers, firefighters, or soldiers—public safety devil hunters are not viewed as noble or selfless; despite public safety in the title. Ironic, isn’t it?
The foremost duty of devil hunters, private or public, is to vanquish and kill the never-ending spawn of Devils and fiends. Not explicitly to protect the general public.
Therefore they’re seen as kooks and replaceable beings. Otherwise no good for society other than to fall for the Devil's playtime. Just there to capitalise on the job’s benefits or the ultra-violence of it all. No matter how many of these workers die or many are employed, nothing ever changes in the eyes of the masses.
They have no sympathy for these devil hunters when there’s continually another Devil or another killing spree from some wild fiend, and ultimately, another sum of dead folk.
Due to these viewpoints, devil hunters are quite shameless and venomous in their thoughts and actions. Hemeno was no exception to this; however, she felt that you were one of the exceptions.
You were around three years older than her and close to thirty. Younger in devil-hunting expirence though.
You two were more so acquaintances than buddies to anything else. Himeno has always seen you around, saying brief hellos and asking how the weather is doing over the past few years. Mindless chatter that mostly went in and out. You had often hung around your partner, Nikola, an older Russian man, on smoke breaks. She recalls that anytime the divisions went out drinking, he would force you to tag along.
Himeno would make flirtatious advances, frequently while drunk, but your response were unwavering:
You’d chuckle. “I’m married. Thank you.”
And she would smirk at that. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
Again, the job you all possessed was to kill devils; not protect the public.
However, you didn’t view it as cynically. You rejected the stigma that surrounded devil hunters and found your profession to be just as respectable as law enforcement or the army; the army being a part of your family's legacy for generations and you, yourself, formerly being enlisted, if Himeno’s memory was doing her any good. You were not a rookie with lofty aspirations and notions that vanished within days on the job. No, you were righteous. Almost like someone she knew. You wanted to protect people and end the Devil’s reign.
And Himeno was charmed by that.
Nowadays, Himeno frequently saw you lingering near the coffee maker when you were taking brief breaks; typically typing away on your phone. After the death of your long-time partner, you lingered at the workplace longer than you did before and took fewer smoking breaks. Since Nikola isn't there to be with you, she assumed it was too nostalgic for you. She felt compelled to approach you since you were now always alone.
Today you were currently lounging once again close to the pot and occasionally sipping from your thermos that steamed even from a distance. And today was the day that she was going to approach you.
“Hey! Any extra Joe in that pot?” she asked.
Lowering your phone, you looked up and noticed Himeno approaching you, alone. She was typically beside that Hayakawa guy so you kind of just expected him to be at her side.
You removed your right ear bud since you didn't fully understand all she said; however, her fixation on the coffee maker allowed you to put two and two together.
Your shoulders slouched. “Oh. My bad, Himeno. I only made two servings for my cup.”
Himeno leaned her upper body onto the counter. She childishly pouted. "Aww, man,” she uttered.
She laid her chin into her folded arms that almost acted like a pillow. Her lip protruded and briefly attracted your attention before you spoke up, simultaneously lifting yourself up from against the counter.
You sighed before pocketing your phone and earbuds. “I’ll cook you up a pot real quick,” you offered; you moved yourself to begin cooking up the coffee.
Himeno winked up at you, a lazy, smug smirk on her face. “Thank you~” she sung.
She was motionless as she leaned her weight across the countertop, in front of the coffee maker, may you add, and also in your way. So while cooking up the coffee, you had to get a bit too up close and personal to her; however, she didn't appear to notice or have a problem with it. She just giggled like a school girl. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought she was intoxicated.
Her hip every now and then would bump yours whenever you reached over her, one of those subtle but imposing touches that made you jolt.
Your concentration was strained as you cooked the coffee, trying to distract yourself from Himeno. You refused to look at her curving form underneath you, but you could still hear her nonetheless. She hummed some song, sounding familiar, a nursery rhyme you heard as a kid perhaps, when you offhandly listened to her. Though you were too ambivalent to ask her or to even make a conversation.
You shook the thoughts away as you focused on pouring the beans into the filter. You then poured all of the water into the corner of the machine and reached to close the lid. In the next moment, after securing the lid closed, you span out to press the start button. However, the sound of Himeno's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Hey, ______. What was your wife’s name again?”
All of the Himeno-induced disorientation disappears when your wife is brought up, slapping you back to reality. Himeno's form was still beside and below you, and you shifted your head to look at her, for the first time in this encounter. Instead of returning your gaze, she fixed her attention on the counter as her elbow rested on it and her cheek rested in her hand.
After a brief moment of almost startled silence, you realized you hadn't spoken a thing, which just made you continue to look. She didn't appear uptight or uneasy at all during the awkward pause that followed her awkward inquiry. Simply put, you questioned why she would even bring up your wife.
You cleared your throat. “…It’s Emiko. I don’t…think I ever mentioned it before anyway.” You went over for your cup from beside you and took a sip to distract yourself. For some strange reason, the coffee burned your throat almost as much as the words you said did
Himeno didn’t respond; she just nodded.
That's the first and only time she ever outwardly mentioned your wife.
“Hehe, _____. You got a smoke?” Himeno asked.
It was a stupid question. You had a cigarette in your mouth and were outdoors in the smoking area at the back. You sure would be out of place if you didn’t.
Himeno kept popping up in your life after the awkward incident at the coffee maker a month earlier. Because of Himeno’s first appearance, you had began moving your breaks from the coffee machine back to the outside smoking area. It was your safe haven for two days before Himeno found you there and has been there ever since. Though now, Himeno begun joining you for smoke breaks, replacing Nikola, and timing her breaks with yours. At first, it was nice. It was nice to get back into the habit of smoking, well, at least it felt nice. It made everything feel like it went away for a moment as smoke punctured your lungs in a embrace.
And each time she showed, if it wasn't already difficult to maintain professionalism due to the way Himeno is naturally, you began to feel as though she was seducing you. Considering how naturally flirtatious she is, you really couldn't tell if this was done on design or by accident. Perhaps you were the issue because of your deteriorating level of loyalty to Emiko, your wife. Yes, your wife. You kept reminding yourself of Emiko.
Though you hate to admit it, the thought of her nowadays brought you dread.
“None to share,” you said. “Sorry.”
Himeno leaned against the wall beside you. “How about I win it from you, huh? In a good ole game of p.o.k.e.r!”
After she made you download poker to your phone, you two had made it your thing. She became irritated when you idly browsed on your phone and didn't talk to her, therefore the game was meant to get your attention on her. You shared an interest in smoking and playing poker. You would both often place bets to keep things exciting. Small bills were the initial phase, followed by promises, then other things.
Nikola was never as nagging. Though he wasn’t as attractive as your new smoking partner was either.
You sighed. “Sure.”
Himeno beamed and whipped out her phone. You unconsciously followed behind her, removing the dwarfing cigarette from between your lips.
She giggled as she set up the match on her phone.“Arencha gonna ask what you’ll get if you win?”
As you had drank with Himeno before, you heard this a lot and had a idea of what she would offer. While a portion of you was irritated, another aspect of you—one that was as powerful as your dominant hand—was interested.
Himeno grinned as she grabbed your arm, and dragged you down to her height in response to your silence, her phone down at her hip in the other. She whispered, and you could feel her smiling on your neck.
“If you win, you’ll get a kiss~”
This you responded quickly to. “…I’d rather just win.”
Himeno saw that despite your words, you did not push her away. “I’d rather just kiss you.”
You had actively avoided Himeno since and haven't seen her for a few days now.
During breaks, you stayed away from the coffee maker in the office and instead headed outside for the nearby cafe. Even though your wife disliked it when you smoked in the car, you would just flee to it when you wanted a puff of smoke. You didn't care what she thought at the time; rather, you just wanted Himeno off your mind because she had crossed the line of separation once again.
These days, you didn't generally wasn't sent out on devil-hunter assignments; waiting for your new partner's assignment. Given that Nikola had been your partner for such a long time, you weren't sure if the length of time you had been waiting was customary.
“God, Nikola,” you whispered to no one but yourself.
With the exception of you and a few vacant desks, the office was empty. Everyone else was sent off to catch some wild fiend, or something. So you were left here to file some paperwork for Makima; though you got distracted with everything conquering your mind at the moment.
Although each of you was given a cubicle, nobody really used them. More so since people were changed out so frequently and it was too much trouble to add and remove names every day or so. If someone passed away, nobody even bothered to clean them out unless the family wanted to do so themselves.
It was beneficial for you that Nikola had left his cubicle uncleaned and untouched, and had no family, as you found comfort within the four thin walls. Everything was precisely as he had left it, from the battle metals on the walls to the lighter in the corner. This cubicle had been him home away from home. Wherever that was.
“You missing Nikola?”
Himeno was standing behind your old partner's desk as you turned around. She had a skirt on; smaller and tighter than appropriate. She was playing a trick on you and luring you once more. The skirt was both figuratively and literally, inappropriate. She was supposed to be out tracking down a villain with Hayakawa and the rest of the division, but judging by the skirt, there was little chance of that. In that type of pencil skirt, you couldn't defeat no Devil.
You turned back to Nikola’s metal on the wall. *“What do you want, Himeno?”*you grumbled.
“I want you to talk to me.”
You huffed; laughing without the humour. “Yeah. As if that’s all you want from me. Bullshit.”
Himeno was silent for a moment, and you simply waited for her to depart before you took any action rashly. Himeno, though, was unwilling to give in. She walked up to the desk, sat down on it, and crossed her legs. You maintained your gaze on the wall of metals but in the corner of your eyes, you could see her thinking. She looked up at the ceiling in thought as the words escaped her lips.
“I don’t deny…that I want more, _____.” Her lip quirked a bit at the clicheness of it all, but she restrained it.
She adds. “But I’m a little shy, you know?”
She was bullshitting you and you knew this. Himeno was the least reserved of the group, so you knew you should have let her know you didn't buy her bullshit. You knew she wasn’t being genuine but, nonetheless, when you were with Himeno, you forgot about all the stress in your life.
The death of your partner,
the arguments with family,
and your pregnant wife at home.
When Himeno was nearby and willing to satisfy your desire, none of it mattered. Your life was made more exciting by her. Work ceased to be challenging and started to serve as an outlet for you. Even if it was just for a little moment, life wasn't all that difficult. She took to the nicotine you allow inside. And your poor wife, whom you love so dearly, was hardly visible through the blissful stupor.
“…Bullshit.”
And you decided you had wanted her too. And you were no longer a little shy in this affair.
You didn't understand why you two continued to play this game when everyone in the division was aware of your illicit relationships. You knew they knew that Himeno had got you stuck in her trap. That this relationship got beyond professionalism months ago. None, however, gave a damn enough to inform your wife; due to the fact that devil hunters are vile individuals. Nevertheless, the world did not end as a result. The world won't end if you cheat on your wife if the option is there.
You already dropped the package. The least you could do now is preserve this blunt.
Summary: Public safety devil hunters are walking hypocrites with morals all over the place like a messy puzzle. That's what they live up to as clichés and stereotypes. In spite of this, Himeno has only come across a few who stand out from this stereotype. You are one. You were the ideal man: married, sickly faithful, and ambition. And Himeno wanted a piece of that, and she typically gets what she wants. It was difficult to keep things on the down low when Himeno openly flirted at work, despite your efforts. You were ashamed of your actions at first, but as time went on, you began to realize and accept how crucial it was to have this affair while you still had the chance.
CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
A/N: I was really nervous writing this as i’m im not overall confident in my portrayal of a male reader so it shows a bit in the writing, not my best, but never my worst.
WORD COUNT // 2561 words
WARNINGS: Infidelity/Unfaithfulness
CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche
Devil hunters lack morals.
They are individuals who, as their name implies, fight against Devils whenever a threat associated with them arises in the world. In this profession, contracts are made with thus Devils. Morals and even self-respect are exchanged for diabolical leverage for the chance to thwart the next beast. The last straw, in the eyes of the public, is these devil hunters buddy up with bloodstained fiends. Unlike police officers, firefighters, or soldiers—public safety devil hunters are not viewed as noble or selfless; despite public safety in the title. Ironic, isn’t it?
The foremost duty of devil hunters, private or public, is to vanquish and kill the never-ending spawn of Devils and fiends. Not explicitly to protect the general public.
Therefore they’re seen as kooks and replaceable beings. Otherwise no good for society other than to fall for the Devil's playtime. Just there to capitalise on the job’s benefits or the ultra-violence of it all. No matter how many of these workers die or many are employed, nothing ever changes in the eyes of the masses.
They have no sympathy for these devil hunters when there’s continually another Devil or another killing spree from some wild fiend, and ultimately, another sum of dead folk.
Due to these viewpoints, devil hunters are quite shameless and venomous in their thoughts and actions. Hemeno was no exception to this; however, she felt that you were one of the exceptions.
You were around three years older than her and close to thirty. Younger in devil-hunting expirence though.
You two were more so acquaintances than buddies to anything else. Himeno has always seen you around, saying brief hellos and asking how the weather is doing over the past few years. Mindless chatter that mostly went in and out. You had often hung around your partner, Nikola, an older Russian man, on smoke breaks. She recalls that anytime the divisions went out drinking, he would force you to tag along.
Himeno would make flirtatious advances, frequently while drunk, but your response were unwavering:
You’d chuckle. “I’m married. Thank you.”
And she would smirk at that. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
Again, the job you all possessed was to kill devils; not protect the public.
However, you didn’t view it as cynically. You rejected the stigma that surrounded devil hunters and found your profession to be just as respectable as law enforcement or the army; the army being a part of your family's legacy for generations and you, yourself, formerly being enlisted, if Himeno’s memory was doing her any good. You were not a rookie with lofty aspirations and notions that vanished within days on the job. No, you were righteous. Almost like someone she knew. You wanted to protect people and end the Devil’s reign.
And Himeno was charmed by that.
Nowadays, Himeno frequently saw you lingering near the coffee maker when you were taking brief breaks; typically typing away on your phone. After the death of your long-time partner, you lingered at the workplace longer than you did before and took fewer smoking breaks. Since Nikola isn't there to be with you, she assumed it was too nostalgic for you. She felt compelled to approach you since you were now always alone.
Today you were currently lounging once again close to the pot and occasionally sipping from your thermos that steamed even from a distance. And today was the day that she was going to approach you.
“Hey! Any extra Joe in that pot?” she asked.
Lowering your phone, you looked up and noticed Himeno approaching you, alone. She was typically beside that Hayakawa guy so you kind of just expected him to be at her side.
You removed your right ear bud since you didn't fully understand all she said; however, her fixation on the coffee maker allowed you to put two and two together.
Your shoulders slouched. “Oh. My bad, Himeno. I only made two servings for my cup.”
Himeno leaned her upper body onto the counter. She childishly pouted. "Aww, man,” she uttered.
She laid her chin into her folded arms that almost acted like a pillow. Her lip protruded and briefly attracted your attention before you spoke up, simultaneously lifting yourself up from against the counter.
You sighed before pocketing your phone and earbuds. “I’ll cook you up a pot real quick,” you offered; you moved yourself to begin cooking up the coffee.
Himeno winked up at you, a lazy, smug smirk on her face. “Thank you~” she sung.
She was motionless as she leaned her weight across the countertop, in front of the coffee maker, may you add, and also in your way. So while cooking up the coffee, you had to get a bit too up close and personal to her; however, she didn't appear to notice or have a problem with it. She just giggled like a school girl. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought she was intoxicated.
Her hip every now and then would bump yours whenever you reached over her, one of those subtle but imposing touches that made you jolt.
Your concentration was strained as you cooked the coffee, trying to distract yourself from Himeno. You refused to look at her curving form underneath you, but you could still hear her nonetheless. She hummed some song, sounding familiar, a nursery rhyme you heard as a kid perhaps, when you offhandly listened to her. Though you were too ambivalent to ask her or to even make a conversation.
You shook the thoughts away as you focused on pouring the beans into the filter. You then poured all of the water into the corner of the machine and reached to close the lid. In the next moment, after securing the lid closed, you span out to press the start button. However, the sound of Himeno's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Hey, ______. What was your wife’s name again?”
All of the Himeno-induced disorientation disappears when your wife is brought up, slapping you back to reality. Himeno's form was still beside and below you, and you shifted your head to look at her, for the first time in this encounter. Instead of returning your gaze, she fixed her attention on the counter as her elbow rested on it and her cheek rested in her hand.
After a brief moment of almost startled silence, you realized you hadn't spoken a thing, which just made you continue to look. She didn't appear uptight or uneasy at all during the awkward pause that followed her awkward inquiry. Simply put, you questioned why she would even bring up your wife.
You cleared your throat. “…It’s Emiko. I don’t…think I ever mentioned it before anyway.” You went over for your cup from beside you and took a sip to distract yourself. For some strange reason, the coffee burned your throat almost as much as the words you said did
Himeno didn’t respond; she just nodded.
That's the first and only time she ever outwardly mentioned your wife.
“Hehe, _____. You got a smoke?” Himeno asked.
It was a stupid question. You had a cigarette in your mouth and were outdoors in the smoking area at the back. You sure would be out of place if you didn’t.
Himeno kept popping up in your life after the awkward incident at the coffee maker a month earlier. Because of Himeno’s first appearance, you had began moving your breaks from the coffee machine back to the outside smoking area. It was your safe haven for two days before Himeno found you there and has been there ever since. Though now, Himeno begun joining you for smoke breaks, replacing Nikola, and timing her breaks with yours. At first, it was nice. It was nice to get back into the habit of smoking, well, at least it felt nice. It made everything feel like it went away for a moment as smoke punctured your lungs in a embrace.
And each time she showed, if it wasn't already difficult to maintain professionalism due to the way Himeno is naturally, you began to feel as though she was seducing you. Considering how naturally flirtatious she is, you really couldn't tell if this was done on design or by accident. Perhaps you were the issue because of your deteriorating level of loyalty to Emiko, your wife. Yes, your wife. You kept reminding yourself of Emiko.
Though you hate to admit it, the thought of her nowadays brought you dread.
“None to share,” you said. “Sorry.”
Himeno leaned against the wall beside you. “How about I win it from you, huh? In a good ole game of p.o.k.e.r!”
After she made you download poker to your phone, you two had made it your thing. She became irritated when you idly browsed on your phone and didn't talk to her, therefore the game was meant to get your attention on her. You shared an interest in smoking and playing poker. You would both often place bets to keep things exciting. Small bills were the initial phase, followed by promises, then other things.
Nikola was never as nagging. Though he wasn’t as attractive as your new smoking partner was either.
You sighed. “Sure.”
Himeno beamed and whipped out her phone. You unconsciously followed behind her, removing the dwarfing cigarette from between your lips.
She giggled as she set up the match on her phone.“Arencha gonna ask what you’ll get if you win?”
As you had drank with Himeno before, you heard this a lot and had a idea of what she would offer. While a portion of you was irritated, another aspect of you—one that was as powerful as your dominant hand—was interested.
Himeno grinned as she grabbed your arm, and dragged you down to her height in response to your silence, her phone down at her hip in the other. She whispered, and you could feel her smiling on your neck.
“If you win, you’ll get a kiss~”
This you responded quickly to. “…I’d rather just win.”
Himeno saw that despite your words, you did not push her away. “I’d rather just kiss you.”
You had actively avoided Himeno since and haven't seen her for a few days now.
During breaks, you stayed away from the coffee maker in the office and instead headed outside for the nearby cafe. Even though your wife disliked it when you smoked in the car, you would just flee to it when you wanted a puff of smoke. You didn't care what she thought at the time; rather, you just wanted Himeno off your mind because she had crossed the line of separation once again.
These days, you didn't generally wasn't sent out on devil-hunter assignments; waiting for your new partner's assignment. Given that Nikola had been your partner for such a long time, you weren't sure if the length of time you had been waiting was customary.
“God, Nikola,” you whispered to no one but yourself.
With the exception of you and a few vacant desks, the office was empty. Everyone else was sent off to catch some wild fiend, or something. So you were left here to file some paperwork for Makima; though you got distracted with everything conquering your mind at the moment.
Although each of you was given a cubicle, nobody really used them. More so since people were changed out so frequently and it was too much trouble to add and remove names every day or so. If someone passed away, nobody even bothered to clean them out unless the family wanted to do so themselves.
It was beneficial for you that Nikola had left his cubicle uncleaned and untouched, and had no family, as you found comfort within the four thin walls. Everything was precisely as he had left it, from the battle metals on the walls to the lighter in the corner. This cubicle had been him home away from home. Wherever that was.
“You missing Nikola?”
Himeno was standing behind your old partner's desk as you turned around. She had a skirt on; smaller and tighter than appropriate. She was playing a trick on you and luring you once more. The skirt was both figuratively and literally, inappropriate. She was supposed to be out tracking down a villain with Hayakawa and the rest of the division, but judging by the skirt, there was little chance of that. In that type of pencil skirt, you couldn't defeat no Devil.
You turned back to Nikola’s metal on the wall. *“What do you want, Himeno?”*you grumbled.
“I want you to talk to me.”
You huffed; laughing without the humour. “Yeah. As if that’s all you want from me. Bullshit.”
Himeno was silent for a moment, and you simply waited for her to depart before you took any action rashly. Himeno, though, was unwilling to give in. She walked up to the desk, sat down on it, and crossed her legs. You maintained your gaze on the wall of metals but in the corner of your eyes, you could see her thinking. She looked up at the ceiling in thought as the words escaped her lips.
“I don’t deny…that I want more, _____.” Her lip quirked a bit at the clicheness of it all, but she restrained it.
She adds. “But I’m a little shy, you know?”
She was bullshitting you and you knew this. Himeno was the least reserved of the group, so you knew you should have let her know you didn't buy her bullshit. You knew she wasn’t being genuine but, nonetheless, when you were with Himeno, you forgot about all the stress in your life.
The death of your partner,
the arguments with family,
and your pregnant wife at home.
When Himeno was nearby and willing to satisfy your desire, none of it mattered. Your life was made more exciting by her. Work ceased to be challenging and started to serve as an outlet for you. Even if it was just for a little moment, life wasn't all that difficult. She took to the nicotine you allow inside. And your poor wife, whom you love so dearly, was hardly visible through the blissful stupor.
“…Bullshit.”
And you decided you had wanted her too. And you were no longer a little shy in this affair.
You didn't understand why you two continued to play this game when everyone in the division was aware of your illicit relationships. You knew they knew that Himeno had got you stuck in her trap. That this relationship got beyond professionalism months ago. None, however, gave a damn enough to inform your wife; due to the fact that devil hunters are vile individuals. Nevertheless, the world did not end as a result. The world won't end if you cheat on your wife if the option is there.
You already dropped the package. The least you could do now is preserve this blunt.
Summary: Public safety devil hunters are walking hypocrites with morals all over the place like a messy puzzle. That's what they live up to as clichés and stereotypes. In spite of this, Himeno has only come across a few who stand out from this stereotype. You are one. You were the ideal man: married, sickly faithful, and ambition. And Himeno wanted a piece of that, and she typically gets what she wants. It was difficult to keep things on the down low when Himeno openly flirted at work, despite your efforts. You were ashamed of your actions at first, but as time went on, you began to realize and accept how crucial it was to have this affair while you still had the chance.
A/N: I was really nervous writing this as i’m im not overall confident in my portrayal of a male reader so it shows a bit in the writing, not my best, but never my worst.
WORD COUNT // 2561 words
WARNINGS: Infidelity/Unfaithfulness
Devil hunters lack morals.
They are individuals who, as their name implies, fight against Devils whenever a threat associated with them arises in the world. In this profession, contracts are made with thus Devils. Morals and even self-respect are exchanged for diabolical leverage for the chance to thwart the next beast. The last straw, in the eyes of the public, is these devil hunters buddy up with bloodstained fiends. Unlike police officers, firefighters, or soldiers—public safety devil hunters are not viewed as noble or selfless; despite public safety in the title. Ironic, isn’t it?
The foremost duty of devil hunters, private or public, is to vanquish and kill the never-ending spawn of Devils and fiends. Not explicitly to protect the general public.
Therefore they’re seen as kooks and replaceable beings. Otherwise no good for society other than to fall for the Devil's playtime. Just there to capitalise on the job’s benefits or the ultra-violence of it all. No matter how many of these workers die or many are employed, nothing ever changes in the eyes of the masses.
They have no sympathy for these devil hunters when there’s continually another Devil or another killing spree from some wild fiend, and ultimately, another sum of dead folk.
Due to these viewpoints, devil hunters are quite shameless and venomous in their thoughts and actions. Hemeno was no exception to this; however, she felt that you were one of the exceptions.
You were around three years older than her and close to thirty. Younger in devil-hunting expirence though.
You two were more so acquaintances than buddies to anything else. Himeno has always seen you around, saying brief hellos and asking how the weather is doing over the past few years. Mindless chatter that mostly went in and out. You had often hung around your partner, Nikola, an older Russian man, on smoke breaks. She recalls that anytime the divisions went out drinking, he would force you to tag along.
Himeno would make flirtatious advances, frequently while drunk, but your response were unwavering:
You’d chuckle. “I’m married. Thank you.”
And she would smirk at that. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
Again, the job you all possessed was to kill devils; not protect the public.
However, you didn’t view it as cynically. You rejected the stigma that surrounded devil hunters and found your profession to be just as respectable as law enforcement or the army; the army being a part of your family's legacy for generations and you, yourself, formerly being enlisted, if Himeno’s memory was doing her any good.
You were not a rookie with lofty aspirations and notions that vanished within days on the job. No, you were righteous. Almost like someone she knew. You wanted to protect people and end the Devil’s reign.
And Himeno was charmed by that.
Nowadays, Himeno frequently saw you lingering near the coffee maker when you were taking brief breaks; typically typing away on your phone. After the death of your long-time partner, you lingered at the workplace longer than you did before and took fewer smoking breaks. Since Nikola isn't there to be with you, she assumed it was too nostalgic for you. She felt compelled to approach you since you were now always alone.
Today you were currently lounging once again close to the pot and occasionally sipping from your thermos that steamed even from a distance. And today was the day that she was going to approach you.
“Hey! Any extra Joe in that pot?” she asked.
Lowering your phone, you looked up and noticed Himeno approaching you, alone. She was typically beside that Hayakawa guy so you kind of just expected him to be at her side.
You removed your right ear bud since you didn't fully understand all she said; however, her fixation on the coffee maker allowed you to put two and two together.
Your shoulders slouched. “Oh. My bad, Himeno. I only made two servings for my cup.”
Himeno leaned her upper body onto the counter. She childishly pouted. "Aww, man,” she uttered.
She laid her chin into her folded arms that almost acted like a pillow. Her lip protruded and briefly attracted your attention before you spoke up, simultaneously lifting yourself up from against the counter.
You sighed before pocketing your phone and earbuds. “I’ll cook you up a pot real quick,” you offered; you moved yourself to begin cooking up the coffee.
Himeno winked up at you, a lazy, smug smirk on her face. “Thank you~” she sung.
She was motionless as she leaned her weight across the countertop, in front of the coffee maker, may you add, and also in your way. So while cooking up the coffee, you had to get a bit too up close and personal to her; however, she didn't appear to notice or have a problem with it. She just giggled like a school girl. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought she was intoxicated.
Her hip every now and then would bump yours whenever you reached over her, one of those subtle but imposing touches that made you jolt.
Your concentration was strained as you cooked the coffee, trying to distract yourself from Himeno. You refused to look at her curving form underneath you, but you could still hear her nonetheless. She hummed some song, sounding familiar, a nursery rhyme you heard as a kid perhaps, when you offhandly listened to her. Though you were too ambivalent to ask her or to even make a conversation.
You shook the thoughts away as you focused on pouring the beans into the filter. You then poured all of the water into the corner of the machine and reached to close the lid. In the next moment, after securing the lid closed, you span out to press the start button. However, the sound of Himeno's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Hey, ______. What was your wife’s name again?”
All of the Himeno-induced disorientation disappears when your wife is brought up, slapping you back to reality. Himeno's form was still beside and below you, and you shifted your head to look at her, for the first time in this encounter. Instead of returning your gaze, she fixed her attention on the counter as her elbow rested on it and her cheek rested in her hand.
After a brief moment of almost startled silence, you realized you hadn't spoken a thing, which just made you continue to look. She didn't appear uptight or uneasy at all during the awkward pause that followed her awkward inquiry. Simply put, you questioned why she would even bring up your wife.
You cleared your throat. “…It’s Emiko. I don’t…think I ever mentioned it before anyway.” You went over for your cup from beside you and took a sip to distract yourself. For some strange reason, the coffee burned your throat almost as much as the words you said did
Himeno didn’t respond; she just nodded.
That's the first and only time she ever outwardly mentioned your wife.
“Hehe, _____. You got a smoke?” Himeno asked.
It was a stupid question. You had a cigarette in your mouth and were outdoors in the smoking area at the back. You sure would be out of place if you didn’t.
Himeno kept popping up in your life after the awkward incident at the coffee maker a month earlier. Because of Himeno’s first appearance, you had began moving your breaks from the coffee machine back to the outside smoking area. It was your safe haven for two days before Himeno found you there and has been there ever since.
Though now, Himeno begun joining you for smoke breaks, replacing Nikola, and timing her breaks with yours. At first, it was nice. It was nice to get back into the habit of smoking, well, at least it felt nice.
It made everything feel like it went away for a moment as smoke punctured your lungs in a embrace.
And each time she showed, if it wasn't already difficult to maintain professionalism due to the way Himeno is naturally, you began to feel as though she was seducing you. Considering how naturally flirtatious she is, you really couldn't tell if this was done on design or by accident. Perhaps you were the issue because of your deteriorating level of loyalty to Emiko, your wife. Yes, your wife. You kept reminding yourself of Emiko.
Though you hate to admit it, the thought of her nowadays brought you dread.
“None to share,” you said. “Sorry.”
Himeno leaned against the wall beside you. “How about I win it from you, huh? In a good ole game of p.o.k.e.r!”
After she made you download poker to your phone, you two had made it your thing. She became irritated when you idly browsed on your phone and didn't talk to her, therefore the game was meant to get your attention on her. You shared an interest in smoking and playing poker. You would both often place bets to keep things exciting. Small bills were the initial phase, followed by promises, then other things.
Nikola was never as nagging. Though he wasn’t as attractive as your new smoking partner was either.
You sighed. “Sure.”
Himeno beamed and whipped out her phone. You unconsciously followed behind her, removing the dwarfing cigarette from between your lips.
She giggled as she set up the match on her phone.“Arencha gonna ask what you’ll get if you win?”
As you had drank with Himeno before, you heard this a lot and had a idea of what she would offer. While a portion of you was irritated, another aspect of you—one that was as powerful as your dominant hand—was interested.
Himeno grinned as she grabbed your arm, and dragged you down to her height in response to your silence, her phone down at her hip in the other. She whispered, and you could feel her smiling on your neck.
“If you win, you’ll get a kiss~”
This you responded quickly to. “…I’d rather just win.”
Himeno saw that despite your words, you did not push her away. “I’d rather just kiss you.”
You had actively avoided Himeno since and haven't seen her for a few days now.
During breaks, you stayed away from the coffee maker in the office and instead headed outside for the nearby cafe. Even though your wife disliked it when you smoked in the car, you would just flee to it when you wanted a puff of smoke. You didn't care what she thought at the time; rather, you just wanted Himeno off your mind because she had crossed the line of separation once again.
These days, you didn't generally wasn't sent out on devil-hunter assignments; waiting for your new partner's assignment. Given that Nikola had been your partner for such a long time, you weren't sure if the length of time you had been waiting was customary.
“God, Nikola,” you whispered to no one but yourself.
With the exception of you and a few vacant desks, the office was empty. Everyone else was sent off to catch some wild fiend, or something. So you were left here to file some paperwork for Makima; though you got distracted with everything conquering your mind at the moment.
Although each of you was given a cubicle, nobody really used them. More so since people were changed out so frequently and it was too much trouble to add and remove names every day or so. If someone passed away, nobody even bothered to clean them out unless the family wanted to do so themselves.
It was beneficial for you that Nikola had left his cubicle uncleaned and untouched, and had no family, as you found comfort within the four thin walls. Everything was precisely as he had left it, from the battle metals on the walls to the lighter in the corner. This cubicle had been him home away from home. Wherever that was.
“You missing Nikola?”
Himeno was standing behind your old partner's desk as you turned around. She had a skirt on; smaller and tighter than appropriate. She was playing a trick on you and luring you once more. The skirt was both figuratively and literally, inappropriate. She was supposed to be out tracking down a devil with Hayakawa and the rest of the division, but judging by the skirt, there was little chance of that. In that type of pencil skirt, you couldn't defeat no Devil.
You turned back to Nikola’s metal on the wall. “What do you want, Himeno?” you grumbled.
“I want you to talk to me.”
You huffed; laughing without the humour. “Yeah. As if that’s all you want from me. Bullshit.”
Himeno was silent for a moment, and you simply waited for her to depart before you took any action rashly. Himeno, though, was unwilling to give in. She walked up to the desk, sat down on it, and crossed her legs. You maintained your gaze on the wall of metals but in the corner of your eyes, you could see her thinking. She looked up at the ceiling in thought as the words escaped her lips.
“I don’t deny…that I want more, _____.” Her lip quirked a bit at the clicheness of it all, but she restrained it.
She adds. “But I’m a little shy, you know?”
She was bullshitting you and you knew this. Himeno was the least reserved of the group, so you knew you should have let her know you didn't buy her bullshit. You knew she wasn’t being genuine but, nonetheless, when you were with Himeno, you forgot about all the stress in your life.
The death of your partner,
the arguments with family,
and your pregnant wife at home.
When Himeno was nearby and willing to satisfy your desire, none of it mattered. Your life was made more exciting by her. Work ceased to be challenging and started to serve as an outlet for you. Even if it was just for a little moment, life wasn't all that difficult. She took to the nicotine you allow inside. And your poor wife, whom you love so dearly, was hardly visible through the blissful stupor.
“…Bullshit.”
And you decided you had wanted her too. And you were no longer a little shy in this affair.
You glanced at her figure.
You didn't understand why you two continued to play this game when everyone in the division was aware of your illicit relationships. You knew they knew that Himeno had got you stuck in her trap. That this relationship got beyond professionalism months ago. None, however, gave a damn enough to inform your wife; due to the fact that devil hunters are vile individuals. Nevertheless, the world did not end as a result. The world won't end if you cheat on your wife if the option is there.
You already dropped the package. The least you could do now is preserve this blunt.
I would like to request hcs for Reze and Himeno with a Male S/O who is the Hybrid of the Death Devil who through a Contract chose the reader to act as it’s adjudicator by guiding souls to the afterlife and gently ending the suffering of those who were in immense pain, or near death from an illness through a sort of touch of death. The Death Devil might also be a Primordial Devil since the fear of death is very widespread.
this is my first time writing for himeno so i’m sorry if it’s bad
also i decided to make two versions for each girl which is if you were in the public safety devil hunters or not
Pairing: Reze & Himeno (Chainsaw Man) X Male!Reader
Reze & Himeno W/ Male!Reader Who Is The Death Devil Hybrid
Reze:
If you are in the Public Safety Devil Hunters:
- tbh if you’re not on her side she’ll make you on her side somehow, she will find a way, most likely she will take you and convince you to join her
- if the first attempt didn’t work, reze would continue to try and get you to work with her especially after she found out what you were
- she might fight you once or twice just to show that she can kill you when she wants and vice versa, but she never actually tries to kill you
- reze loves to “find” you in random places that you thought she wouldn’t know about only because it means you’re away from everyone else and she can talk to you herself
- if you end up never joining her side she wouldn’t kill you since it’s not her job, but she would still tend to follow you around and lowkey stalk you, if you do then she’d be so happy and would immediately start calling you her boyfriend without even any words spoken between you two
- she would actually warn you about makima before anything happened as her last act of kindness
- reze would love to tease you whenever she gets to see you just so she can see you get irritated or flustered
- you would be the last thing she think’s about, and how she would hope that you made it out of makima’s deathly trap alive
If you are not in the Public Safety Devil Hunters:
- if she met you and found out that you were the death devil hybrid and weren’t part of the public safety devil hunters then she would immediately be all over your ass lol
- deadass she’ll just follow you around until you talk to her 😐 when you finally do she’ll have already known that you were the death devil hybrid and so she immediately tells you what she is which makes you actually talk to her
- she would keep asking you to show what you can do after she showed what she could do and when you did, she knew that she would make sure you stayed with her and would help her
- soon enough you two basically became Bonnie & Clyde, fighting other devils or the devil hunters and resulting in you two getting together
- reze loved to watch you kill people with just one touch, she thought it was super cool! so she made sure that she would have to get better so she wouldn’t be worse than you, but she still knew that you were stronger than her
- she would use you as her own knight in shining armor and it worked every time, if anyone went after reze you would immediately kill them and she would be so happy
- she would constantly ask about why you chose to make a contract with the death devil, but if you don’t answer then she wouldn’t push it anymore
- you knew about her investigating denji and eventually trying to kill him but it didn’t bother you since you knew she would end up killing him, but you would definitely help because couple goals 😍
Himeno:
If you are in the Public Safety Devil Hunters:
- she didn’t know you were a hybrid at first until aki told her and then she was like :0
- she’d probably end up bothering and pestering you like she did with aki in hopes that you’ll end up having a conversation, if you do then she’ll be super happy!
- will let you smoke with her and give you her cigarettes if you do, if not then she’ll talk with you while on her smoke break
- when she saw your powers for the first time she was both scared and excited because you were super cool but also terrifying
- himeno would be too scared to ask you to show your powers once more, but she would totally ask all about them and how it works
- she’d probably drink with you and end up trying to sleep with you but if that’s alright with you then she’ll do it, if you say something then she’ll stop once she realizes what’s going on
- himeno wouldn’t care if you were a hybrid, she would still have the same feelings for you either way, and she’d definitely show it
- extremely affectionate and touchy with you but once again if you say something then she’ll tone it down
If you are not part of the Public Safety Devil Hunters:
- if himeno saw you on the street killing people with your “death touch” she would be staring the whole time until someone shook her out of it or you turned your head and saw her
- if she saw you again she’d end up going up to you and asking if you were the same guy from last time she saw you and if you say yes then she’ll continue to ask questions, if you say no then she’ll still ask questions
- even if himeno was ordered to kill you, she wouldn’t because in her words “he’s cute! i can’t kill him! 🥲”
- she would try and talk to you whenever you two were in the same place and she wouldn’t care what you’d think, she’d just do it anyways
- if she had the day off then she would go out and try to find you and end up asking if you wanted to get drinks, but she won’t let you say no
- if you decide to tell her about yourself and that you’re the death devil hybrid then good luck because himeno will ask so many damn questions
- she’d totally give you her number after drinking with you and if you call her then she’d be ecstatic and try to get in touch with you more
- she would actually be really good at keeping what you are a secret, knowing what the others would do if they found out about you and she loves you so much that she can’t risk exposing you :(
Reze-Short sweet, but still dominating. Reze has all the power between the two of you, but unlike Makima, Reze allows you the power of choice. She’s fine moving at your pace, or if you need a helpful little push she’s behind you. Reze’s kisses are full of passion and are reserved for a more intimate setting where she’ll make quick work of overpowering you.
Power-Demanding and possessive. Power’s kisses are more hungry than anything else. They’re playful but she wants to taste you and she won’t stop till she’s had her fill. (She may just bite down on your shoulder if she’s really hungry and take a drink)
Makima-Controlling (you don’t say?) Makima kisses you, you are not allowed to kiss her. If you’re with Makima you will be beneath her. She’ll let you think you’re in control but at a moments notice she can have you on your knees begging for her mercy.
Kobeni-Shy with fits of passion and dominance. Kobeni’s kisses are shy, and you’ll have to imitate most of them. When you two are alone or Kobeni decides to stand up for herself (every once in a blue moon) she’ll take control and become your sadist. Kobeni the one time she took charge was the best time of your life. Who knew she had in her. Other than that she’s very loving and passionate. Your kisses are intimate where you can confess to one another that you belong to each other and no one will ever get in the way of that.
Himeno-Possessive in a way, she knows what she wants and in this instant it’s you. You feel her desire as your lips first meet. She’ll smile into the kiss for sure as she swipes her tongue against your bottom lip only to force her tongue past your teeth before you can fully accept her request. Unlike Makima, Himeno is willing to give up control and allow you to take the lead as she giggles into your kiss, your nose tickling her cheek as she lets you explore her mouth.
These were fun to do so let me know what you think. If you want anymore headcanons just let me know
