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underscar · 7 months

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THE SCULPTURE & THE SCULPTOR

Pairing: Makima/Female Reader

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.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST

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.

© UNDERSCAR 2023 - All rights are reserved to underscar. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarize, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.

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underscar · 1 year

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LOVESTRUCK FOOL

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro/Female Reader

Summary: Love-struck is being blinded by love. A state of being so enthralled with someone that you can't stop thinking about them; moreover, to the point that they don't know what to do with themselves. Like a kid after going trick-or-treating. A sugar high and so much candy that they have no idea what to do with themselves. Megumi was a lovestruck fool, and you, Satoru's little sister, had struck him. Once accepting his affection for you, Satoru has appeared to turn into more of a pest, striving to ruin his student's chance for your affection at all costs.

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Is it obvious that I adore megumi?

this is a old oneshot i dug out from my wattpad drafts so it may be familiar to a small percentage. i rewrote, changed, and added A LOT. cause damn did the writing suck. but i liked the concept and was in the mood for some megumi romance and satoru shenanigans. so enjoy!

WORD COUNT // 2,898 words

Love-struck: being blinded or struck by love.

A state of being so enthralled with someone that you can't stop thinking about them; moreover, to the point that they don't know what to do with themselves. Like a kid after going trick-or-treating. A sugar high and so much candy that they have no idea what to do with themselves.

Megumi was a lovestruck fool, and you had struck him.

Megumi has known you for as long as he has known Satoru, so since childhood. You were born with the Gojō clan's inherited technique, Limitless, but not with Six Eyes, so you weren't able to efficiently yield it like your older brother. You were constantly under protection because of your relation with Satoru, with all his notoriety, the fact that you are, in general, a Gojō, and your lack of combat capabilities. Every time you go in public, bodyguards must chaperone you.

Despite not having immense power like your brother, you were still held to a high standard and bore high expectations. Your clan was very strict regarding you since you were the last child left in the household, one of few daughters amongst your siblings, and the youngest child of your parents. They were very strict about who you could be friends with, who you could see, where you went, what you did, and so on. Lucky for Megumi, he fits the criteria for who you openly could be friends with.

It wasn't long ago when it struck hit him. It was sudden and all. Occurred when you had visited Tokyo one weekend to hang out with him for the afternoon, and he recognized he felt something for you as he was escorting you to your chauffeur.

At first, Megumi mistook this feeling for his fondness for you from childhood. He has clear and warm memories of growing up next to you. You were inseparable then, not that you aren't nowadays, but now you were both just too busy to just stay attached 24/7 since you live such a distance away. With him training as a shaman in Tokyo, and you not, you both attended different schools in different cities.

Due to the strictness of your clan and the intense security you maintain, your gatherings are limited to twice a month.

He looks forward to your monthly visits.

Because of how periodically you're allowed to see one another, to satisfy his neediness for the next visit, he always walks you out of the school campus to squeeze in a few more minutes with you. Megumi didn't want to admit it, but he was lonely here without you.

This particular day was a rather foggy day. The sky grew darker and dimmer; moreover, the air got damp. The clouds scattered the sky at sporadic gaits and trends. Shrouding the sunlight in a grey filter and conveying a melancholic sense down below. When Megumi was with you, however, nothing could turn him blue, so you both disregarded those caution signs, too invested in each other's company as he walked you toward the campus parking lot, where your guards were expected you.

As projected, the irregular drips of rain swiftly evolved into a shower of rain following you and Megumi's steps. Megumi's involuntary instinct was to sprint to the parking lot for your ride, rushing the usually languid stroll. He didn't want to, he wanted to spend more time together, but it was the prudent course of action. He didn't want you to get a cold.

You however didn't allow him to make this choice.

Before he could move to direct you to a quicker route to the parking lot, you swiftly captured his warm hand in yours, and in turn, chilled him to the bone. You had placed him into an outbreak of remembrance.

"This is perfect Megumi! Let's hide!" you say. You looked into his eyes and there was nothing but bliss in them. As if the child in you was still behind those eyes. "Like we're kids again!" you added, joyfully. You smiled in the murky rain that clouded the area. The sun within this storm you are.

Megumi would've said normally how foolish and immature that was, but he was voiceless as you lured him away towards your entanglement.

The palm of your hand felt like a glove in his, it fit wonderfully, as it always has. When you were younger, you would always hold his hand. Mostly to drag him along with you to participate in whatever shenanigan you were up to. Just like you were now.

With his hand in yours, he felt something. There was something different about this moment then what Megumi recollected from his childhood, he wanted to squeeze your hand with his, he wanted to kiss your hand, and caress it. This "something" had felt different from the fondness he had for you from childhood. It felt oddly romantic and intimate at the moment.

Megumi was a lovestruck fool

and had fallen in love with you.

That day you stayed a few hours more with you both hiding from your guards who soon went searching for you. Megumi knew was going to get in a lot of trouble for this once you both got caught, which will happen eventually. Regardless, it was difficult for him to say no to you. He could never refuse more time with you.

You were both apprehended when Satoru was summoned to fetch you up instead, and he found you both in a matter of seconds. By then you were exhausted after running around the campus and had fallen asleep behind some sofas in the student's commons area.

What caught Satoru's attention was seeing your head resting on his student's shoulder, who did not move an itch.

That was the day Megumi conceded he had an affinity for you. It was also the day Satoru found out his student had a crush on his sister, and he became a pestering asshole.

There is a lively atmosphere in the coffee shop and the air is filled with the smell of pastries and beans. The early morning sun filtered through the windows into the shop and illuminated Satoru's ghostly-white mane.

In the booth, Megumi sat down in front of his teacher, who had suddenly invited him for breakfast. He initially declined but was coaxed after Satoru rambled for what felt like 30 minutes about how lonely he is and how no one cares about him anymore. Or something along those lines. Megumi simply accepted with a groan to keep the conversation short.

Satoru rested his arms on the wooden tabletop. His palms were entwined. "Megumi," he said, bringing his students' focus away from the coffee he was drinking. "Are you excited to see my sister this weekend?" he asked, before continuing to speak before he could respond. "—you know, every time I visit her, she only asks about you."

Megumi's pine eyes narrowly broaden. Did you really? He restrained himself from moving his palm to cover his face. Well of course you did, your friends, he reasoned. Making his emotions too visible would only catch Satoru's attention if his behavior hasn't already. The man in front of him now having a devoid smile on his face.

He had to behave as if what Satoru was saying didn't matter, or Satoru would never live it down. Rather, he just gapes outside the window next to him, his face flushing.

Satoru continued when he didn't get a response from Megumi. "My baby sister doesn't love me anymore, it's depressing. She doesn't even give me a good morning text anymore!" he whined. He shakes his head in displeasure, flicking his wrist. "It's Megumi this, Megumi that. It's like she's been possessed to only speak of you, Megumi!"

Megumi twitched at the sound of his name being repeated. "So?" Megumi forced out. Satoru was annoying but he wasn't annoying for no reason. He just wanted Satoru to stop talking around the bush, and ultimately admit his central reason for bringing him here this morning.

Satoru fell back into his seat. "You're the same Megumi!" he wept. "You're always asking about her too! No one cares for me��anymore!”

Megumi frowned at him as he dropped his head onto the table. Then, with his head on the table, Satoru pretended to weep into his folded arms. The other patrons in the coffee shop are now fixated on the two of them because of this.

Megumi sighs and sips his coffee slowly.

Satoru suddenly stops sobbing and gives his student a smirk while looking up. Megumi only had a hunch as to what this meant; he knew something he shouldn't.

Satoru crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. He then begins by sipping from his frappuccino. "You know Megumi, you've been getting rather close to my sister. As if...you're attracted to her almost,” he surmised.

A look of seriousness suddenly appeared on Satoru's face, but the whipped cream on his lip almost made it hard for Megumi to take him earnestly.

Megumi places his mug on the table and listened.

Satoru kept talking. "I am aware of your little crush on my baby sister. So, tell me, Megumi, do you think you're worthy of being with my sister?" he inquired outright.

Before Megumi had the chance to consider responding, Satoru cut him off. "—I want you to think about that Megumi!" he barks. He pointed a finger at the teen. "Think of it as an assignment from your Sensei."

Megumi simply agrees. Satoru appeared to be babbling nonsense to anyone else, but in fact, he just lightly threatened the boy. But he wouldn't let Satoru stand in the way of him because he was lovestruck by you. This was the start of Satoru's "assignment" and the first time he would use those exact three phrases repeatedly in the future.

Five hours. You're five hours late.

In spite of the fact that today was the day for you and Megumi's monthly hangout, you were nowhere to be seen It wasn't completely uncommon for you to be late, your family put a lot of duties on you, yet you've never been one to be late. Additionally, you would've at least texted him. He's had his phone clutched to his palm for the last five hours waiting for that said text.

This wasn't like you at all. Megumi feared something might have occurred to you at home. So, grudgingly, he leaves his dorms to find your pain-in-the-ass brother to question him on your lateness. It had been a few weeks since his meeting with Satoru at the coffee shop and nothing has really occurred since. Just a little bit of teasing from him in class but other than that he hasn't really done anything.

It didn't take Megumi long to find Satoru in the commons area. He was sitting alone with a rounded cake on the table in front of him, a napkin tucked into his shirt.

Megumi entered the room and made his presence known to the man. "Gojō-sensei, _____ hasn't come today and she hasn't texted me back. Do you know why?" he asked, keeping a distance away.

Satoru nodded. "Ah, right, I forgot to tell you. She broke her phone or something, so she's going to get a new number," he replied, biting right into the rounded cake without bothering to cut it into pieces.

Megumi supposes that makes sense, but that doesn't explain why you didn't show up today. He's too embarrassed to say that he was looking forward to seeing you. But screw it, as soon as he learns how you're doing, he'll put up with it and listen to Satoru's teasing.

"…But why didn't she show up? She was supposed to visit.”

Satoru wipes his face with a napkin before replying. "Actually, I took her out today. You know, for some brother and sister time," he responds nonchalantly, purposely not looking Megumi in the eyes.

Why in the world would Satoru do that? He chose to take you out knowing that this was the only opportunity you had to be with each other. Megumi won't deny it; he was furious. Satoru had the freedom to visit you whenever he pleased, and on the one occasion he did, he chose to take you out on your and Megumi's day. He shoots Satoru a deadly-looking stare, but Satoru fails to react, leaving Megumi with a splitting headache.

He sighs and doesn't even attempt to continue the conversation with the man before turning around and heading back to his dorm.

Satoru doesn't raise his head until Megumi is no longer in view. When he hears a door slam off in the distance, a grin spreads across his face and he starts chuckling to himself.

Satoru thought, leaning his face against his palm, "So Megumi likes you more than I thought." He accesses Megumi's contact on his phone after taking it out. He explains in the message how he persuaded his parents to give you two another day to meet tomorrow with extra time with himself as your escort.

Some people might believe Satoru was being overbearing but he merely wanted to witness Megumi's feelings for you at all times. To poke fun at his developing feelings for you and the frustrating moments when he was unable to see you. Satoru pondered seeing Megumi concerned for your wellbeing.

On the other side of the coin, after reading Satoru's text message, Megumi couldn't help but groan into his pillow. He got played. What was that blindfolded idiot of a teacher doing? Megumi had to know; he isn't sure if he can take the uncertainty any longer. It's already hard as it is to get the confidence to confess to you, but If Satoru keeps being a pestering asshole, he can't attempt to pursue a relationship with you.

The following day, you and Megumi hung out and actually left his campus to engage in some enjoyable activities, just as Satoru had promised. Satoru had come to watch over you two; yet, stayed in the background behind you both, leaving you with some space. It was an enjoyable evening which only led to Megumi feeling more conflicted with his feelings for you, especially with your brother being near.

Satoru sent you off to your chauffeurs with joy at the conclusion of the evening, and you returned home. He and Megumi then returned to the school grounds in silence after watching you drive away into the distance.

With this silence, Megumi spoke up.

"We need to talk, Gojō-sensei."

Satoru stopped, slightly ahead of Megumi. "I'm assuming this talk is about my baby sister, " he guesses. "I'm right, huh?"

"I wanted to confront you. In private," Megumi explained.

Satoru smiles enormously. "Oh really? Are you going to try to kill me for my sister?" he taunts.

"Be serious Gojō," he sighs. He hadn't wanted to say these things in front of you, for obvious reasons; nevertheless, it had to have been expressed. "Why are you so against me…liking ______?" he asked.

The smile left Satoru's face and he turned away. "I'm not."

Why did he interrupt your brief time together before persuading your parents to extend it? Why inform him about how much you like him and then threaten him about liking you in return? He doesn't understand what Satoru's thinking.

Megumi narrows his eyes. "Do you want me to date ______ or not?"

"Uhhhh," Satoru groaned. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet." He shook his head. "No, that's a lie. it's really just that...she's weak, and you'll have to protect her. And I only wonder if you're strong enough to do so."

You are cherished by Satoru. You are the sole member of his family where his love for you is thoroughly pure and not tainted. He doesn't mean to insult you when he calls you weak, but it's accurate nonetheless.

You can't defend yourself against curses, and Satoru would feel more at ease if he knew for sure that Megumi could protect you when he wasn't near.

"Are you strong enough to protect my beloved sister Megumi?"

How does he even answer that question? Megumi desires to say yes because he would do anything for you in his heart. In contrast, he is uncertain in his mind. You attract the attention of special grades, the likes of assassins, and have bounties on your head. You worry about your life and the lives of your family members every day. Is he truly powerful enough to keep you safe from the danger that you face?

"I think I love her, Satoru," he admits. The words were almost painful to say to Satoru. "And I'll protect her to the best of my ability and more. Even if I have to die trying."

Megumi despised how cliché his confession sounded, but he really did mean it. The truth is often sappy. While he cannot promise to protect you with certainty, he can promise to make every effort.

Satoru didn't tease his words, which caught Megumi off guard. He firmly asserts, placing his hand on his student's shoulder while gazing into his azure eyes, "She'd cry if something happened to you,” he said.

He continues, the corner of his lip lifting, "You'll have to get strong enough so that you don't die trying to save her.”

"So think about that Megumi~"

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#© UNDERSCAR #x female reader #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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underscar · 1 year

Text

SHAMELESS

Pairing: Himeno/Male Reader

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 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.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

PLEASE JOIN THE TAGLIST

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underscar · 1 year

Note

You should do uhhh…

Beam with a Gravure Model reader… or yhhhh

Beam domestic headcanons… bc i wanna pretend I am living with him

-Capybara Anon

DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

feats: beam :)

warnings: no pronouns

summary: what living with the shark fiend is like.

a/n: ty for your request, capybara anon! at the musuem i work at we’re actually getting a shark exhibit soon so i may post some pictures then :)

CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche

BEAM [SHARK FIEND]

— Beam is a hyper one, so living with him occasionally would be like living with a child. He wouldn't, however, be unduly reliant on you in the way that a child would.

— I don't view Beam as being stupid, as some people may believe and write him as. I'll confess that I’ve thought about it, but when I rewatched Chainsaw Man, it reminded me that fiends are Devils and those Devils have likely existed for ages before taking possession of these corpses.

— Therefore, Beam may already be accustomed with certain simple, customary tasks like sweeping, mopping, etc. He might not be familiar with the "modern household chores," like doing the laundry, using the dishwasher, or cleaning the refrigerator. But he can do the basics that you need him to, and Beam, he has the ability to learn things.

— The only problem? He doesn't particularly enjoy them…

— I think the majority of Devils would detest performing mundane housework. Either they loathe them or they find them boring and dreary. Beam being the latter.

— However, there is still some chance. There is an easy solution: bribery. You won't be stuck with a hyper fiend and a messy house. You only need purchase Beam's cooperation, and you'll succeed with ease.

— Beam truly isn't choosy, so he can be bribed with anything. Any object—food, a blanket, a toy—can be held over his head for his cooperation. Even if he doesn't like the thing you're offering, the very act of making the offer causes him to feel something and make him want the thing.

— Besides chores, Beam is exciting and easy to live with.

— Only if he likes you—by which I mean is deeply attached to you—has any chance of moving in with you. He could only coexist peacefully with someone in that way. He will readily obey your directions if he is devoted to you.

— Beam doesn't particularly care to eat. He really only likes eating when he's with his housemate. Though when he does eat, he has a large appetite, just to keep you both at the table a tad longer, therefore prepare extra food for him.

— Don't allow him inside the kitchen either. He is unreliable and unprepared for the duties of cooking and he may never be prepared for that duty so don’t ever suggest it….

— Beam is a bundle of energy who hardly ever gets tired, which makes you feel more exhausted. However, it never ceases to be comforting to see, especially after a long day.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

#© UNDERSCAR #x gender neutral reader #chainsaw man headcanons #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #csm x you #csm x y/n #chainsaw man #csm beam #chainsaw man beam x reader #beam x reader #x reader #csm headcanons

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underscar · 11 months

Note

If you're willing, could you write headcanons for Power with a fem or gn s/o? Someone who's really sweet and caring but indulges in Power's chaotic energy because they love that about her.

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

feats: power :)

warnings: no pronouns

summary: what it's like to have power as a gf.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST FORM

A/N: thank you for requesting! apologies if it’s short.

CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche

POWER

when it comes to navigating a relationship with power, I must say, you possess the patience of a saint

— as power can be quite bratty, loud, and driven by her own desires, often showing a strong inclination towards greed. however, amidst these traits, there is one remarkable thing: she seems to harbor a genuine fondness for you.

— “I hold the power in this relationship!" she would frequently proclaim. despite her name being power, the reality is that you possessed the true power in your relationship. power was not familiar with the obstacles of navigating a romantic relationship, being a fiend and all.

— consequently, she lacked the knowledge required to steer a romantic relationship in the right direction.

— power often finds herself pondering how to reciprocate your love with the same intensity and depth. she yearns to love you as fiercely as you love her, feeling a persistent sense of disconnection within the relationship.

— this lingering feeling resides in the depths of her mind, subtly influencing her emotions. though she genuinely loves you, there are moments when your love seems overwhelming, overshadowing her own.

— as a result, she becomes particularly prone to seeking physical affection, hoping to bridge the gap and compete with the effortless nature of your affections and kindness.

— please keep an eye on her because she'll always be up to some sort of shenanigans. Some might expect your attentive nature to temper her energy, but to everyone's surprise, you actually join in and amplify her mischief. You become her ultimate booster, delighting in her antics.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

#© UNDERSCAR #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x y/n #chainsaw man x reader #csm x y/n #csm x you #csm x reader #csm headcanons #chainsaw man headcanons #power x reader #power headcanons #power x you #power x y/n

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underscar · 1 year

Text

SURE THING

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa/Female Reader

Summary: Midnight chatter happened mindlessly below your home. Open and shut lights from various effects flickered through your apartment's grand window opening. A night of just you and Aki. Weeks ago when Aki abruptly proposed to you, he sang the loveliest things to your ears. You never expected Aki to be one for marriage, you had accepted that long ago in your relationship. His proposal was so sudden, it was as if something forced him to abruptly decide to spend the rest of his life with you and switch his opinion on marriage. Besides that, though you had your troubles, this love was a sure thing.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

WORD COUNT // 1401 words

Midnight chatter happened mindlessly below. Open and shut lights from various effects flickered through your apartment's grand window opening. A light fog encased the windows in a hug, a warning of the chill that couldn't be raised to rest outside. Nowadays, you often find yourself with a pip in your step, a smile on your face, and a welcoming aurora. Despite the harsh winter breezes bringing haunting thoughts to many others, you were happy and struggle-free. Well, somewhat.

Though the overwhelming weather pushes men to their limit, it only tends to soothe your love-drunk mind. You have an intense affinity for the cold. You cherished the snow and the way the ice-cold winds encircle you. You have pleasant winter memories.

For instance, during the season you moved to Tokyo and met the person you now refer to as your fiancé, a recent winter event, Aki's proposal.

The proposal was sudden and abrupt. Weeks ago when Aki abruptly proposed to you, he sang the loveliest things to your ears. Swearing that he'll love you like a brother, with strong love and a bond that can't be easily broken.

He vowed that he'd treat you like a childhood friend and forever respect you like a true lover, for as long as he lived. His words brought tears of joy down your broad eyes. You never expected Aki to be one for marriage, you had accepted that long ago in your relationship.

He suddenly proposed to you, as if something had compelled him to change his mind about marriage and resolve to spend the rest of his life with you. You hadn't given the issue much attention at the time because you were so captivated by the sensation of his lips against yours as you said yes.

Additionally, you didn't want to give his motivation for proposing too much thought. For once, all you wanted to do was enjoy the sensation of his affection. His dialog of promise was beautifully sincere. He didn't need to say ‘I love you.’ His words of devotion were more than enough. He made you feel his flourished love.

You weren't naïve. After the death of Himeno, he was noticeably distant for weeks and he had a shift in character. You didn't push him to talk. You only allowed things in your relationship to go to a halt and become just…bleak.

Right after his injuries succeeded the event was healed, and he soon went back to normal once he started working again. Aki briefly explained how he was signing a new contract with another devil around this time. He never told you what devils he was signed to, he didn't want you to know, and you didn't want to know either. It was an unspoken, neutral understanding between you two.

You only desire to be with Aki. You decided to love him for as long as you can because you realized he wouldn't change his profession or perspective on life; not even for you. Aki also wished to remain by your side and to love you. It was selfish but he wanted to live a nice life separate from his work. And that simple, domestic life was with you. For the time being, he was okay with it. He was okay with it being temporary. You blurred his world in a rosy tint.

Clatter came from the kitchen, and Aki’s ears picked up. He aimlessly listened to you speak whatever was on your mind as you cooked. Today was a rare night when he was free from Denji and Power to be with you. He wouldn’t call this a date night, mostly because he expected better from himself regarding dates. Hell, he didn’t remember the last time he had treated you to anything.

You stirred the pot, and the gas stove you stood in front of was lightly lit. "Come on Aki, you have to put more effort into it if ya wanna win!" Your modest apartment was clouded with light smoke from the oven below and Aki’s hanging cigarette.

Almost a week ago while Aki and you were on a simple walk around town, your eyes picked up a poster. A sword fighting event. You eagerly signed him up despite his protest. You nudged him. Telling him a change in taste would be fun. And with that, he agreed to participate.

Aki’s elbows rested on your kitchen counter. He put out his cigarettes in the makeshift cigarette tray you gave him. He eyed the pot you stopped stirring. "If you're the prize then I don't know what I can do to deserve that,” he muttered tiredly, eyes stuck on watching your form.

Your eyes grow warm, and you both make eye contact. You tilt your head, smiling. "Bias don't you think? I'll always choose you, even if you're the loser and don't deserve me." Aki smiled at your comment before chuckling lightly and turning his gaze away from yours.

You placed the stirring spoon away and turned off the head as you checked on the rice. "Are you able to stay for dinner?” You begin stating your real motive. The motive that often drove your fiancé away, ironically. “I wanted to start planning for the wedding together..."

Aki, as expected by now, went silent. Since the day he proposed those many weeks ago you both hadn't planned for the wedding. Your parents were starting to doubt the marriage. It didn’t help that they never really liked Aki due to his risky occupation and forbearing demeanor.

He stood from the stool. "I can't,” he said, hand in slacks pockets. You try to hide your disappointment by turning away, but your hanging rubdowns show your feelings fully. "But, I'll be back tomorrow,” he added, moving to stand beside you.

You try nodding, to hide your letdown, but instead, you end up staring down at the black rice cooker flashing green, and not looking at your so-called fiancé. The city's chatter from below drowned out your thoughts, and you found yourself still of movement and a warm face.

Aki’s hand caressed your cheek lightly, warming them. He sighed, wanting to look down at the tile floor but instead kept his gaze straight on you. "Hey, look at me," he said. Slowly, you look up into his deep green eyes, he rubs your cheek as an award for your compliance. He began to promise sincere words. “I promise you that I'll be here tomorrow night. And we'll plan the wedding then, I'll even cook dinner for you."

You stared, critical. To be honest, you didn't want to argue, but you still felt upset. You just wanted this conversation to be over so that you can drown in your anger. "Fine,” you state, your voice cold and dry.

He sighed again, removing his hand, and noticing your mood. "I don't want to leave things like this," he states truthfully. He rubs your cheek with his palm. "Award me with a smile,” he demanded You pout, turning away from his admittingly charming gaze.

You speak through your filled cheeks. "You don't deserve an award,” you muttered. Resisting the urge to cross your arms like a child. He pinched your cheek.

“You said it yourself. Even if I'm the loser you'll reward me?" Your stomach flutters inside for some reason. Damn it, he got you there.

"Fine you got me there,” you admit defeat. You squeeze his shoulder, staring sternly into his eyes. “Seriously though, you promise you'll come back tomorrow?”

He watches as you make three to-go plates. He nods. "I promise you," he says, his voice sincere as it has always been.

You stop your actions and smile. “Then I’ll believe you, Aki.”

He nodded to himself. He couldn't bring himself to tell you that he'll die in two years, he just couldn't. You didn’t deserve to be saddened by how little time you both have left. Because even when the night sky comes falling, even when the sun doesn't shine on him, he will always have faith in you and him.

So as long as your hand is entwined with his, he'll always cherish the sweet memories of you loving him. Even when it's his time to die, he can live simply with you until then. 'Cause the love he has for you is the surest thing in his decaying life.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#© UNDERSCAR #X FEMALE READER #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader

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underscar · 1 year

Text

ONE MOMENT IN TIME

Pairing: Angel Devil/Female Reader

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.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

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.

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underscar · 1 year

Text

MISTRESS

Pairing: Beam/Female Reader

Summary: While in a state of nihility, you await the assignment of a buddy. Soon after your partner's departure, you’re given the info regarding your next partner. They wanted to try out this experiment, where devil hunters are paired with manageable fiends, on you because of your demonstrated dedication as a devil hunter. You didn’t object, there wasn’t much you could do but accept . Maybe it’ll make losing a partner easier, you thought. You were wrong, so wrong. Beam made things enjoyable and charmed you with his carefree manner. You broke the rules for him, with him, and more for the first time. Though life as a devil-hunter never had sappy-happy endings.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: PART ONE - PART THREE - PART FOUR (TBP)

yeah, this is a long one, buddy. (this is part 2)

WORD COUNT // 12,389 words

The place you called home was completely dark and smoke-filled. The blue screen became hazy in your eyesight as the smoke gradually expanded the area. Your nose and throat have lost all sensation.

You were sucked into the cushions of the couch even more, the cushion's roughness is noticeable on your skin given how little it was washed.

The motions on the TV screen danced in your pupils as the vibrant light reflected off of your quiet eyes. They're laughing and smiling on the screen, the actors, or rather, their characters, are. You watch this show every day after work even though it is dreadful. It's been a long time since you've watched an episode of Friends and smiled with them. Watching them has not been the same since you were a child, nothing since then has stayed the same.

Things were so damn simpler, back then.

The absence of light was evident. The only light that was present was from your TV, where its beam illuminated the room. You were laying on a curved couch in front of the flat-screen television. The décor in your apartment was monotonous and expressionless. You had a tall couch, and a tall television stand, and overall everything stood tall. The plants you had installed when you first moved in have been neglected for so long that they're nearing their end. Their demises were ignored in your amenity.

Smoke escaped from your mouth as you exhaled. Your bare arm rested on the side of the couch, remote and charring cigarette in hand, your shirt and tie left neglected on the floor. It was a brief and uneventful day for you despite everything. Don't be bothered, but 'twas your birthday today. A day made notable by whoever gave a damn, and you sure as hell didn't.

Besides, you didn't have anyone you wanted to go out with. For instance, you didn't even tell any of your co-workers about it. Whoever they are. You didn't know. Why bother remembering their names when they were vanishing by the day? Socializing was bothersome anyway.

Nonetheless, the question is, how d'ya manage to get the day off? Well, Makima, the new chief lady, pulled you to the side when you arrived at work that morning. It came as a surprise to you when she suggested that you take the day off on your birthday, for you to appreciate it. You assumed she discovered your birthday from your file or something of that sort. Unrealistic to assume she just knew.

Not like you both were buddies.

Anyhow, there wasn't much of a problem with your absence. Work had been lackluster as of late with you not having a partner, and thus not doing much work in the field with the horrid devils. To ensure that at least one devil hunter can return, the majority of them are sent with their partners. Really, all you've been doing is waiting for your next one to come, along with some paperwork, of course.

Shame what happened to your last partner. God bless his soul. The man didn't die or anything, but the lifestyle of a devil hunter, fucked with his head. He abruptly resigned, which was not all that shocking, and it had now been over three weeks. For roughly two months, you were partnered.

Despite appearing unconcerned to the naked eye, you secretly wished him the best. You didn't know him long but you think you remember him saying how he had a family or some shit. His wise choice to prioritize oneself over this soul-crushing career truly made you consider leaving and pursuing something else as well.

Whereas this thought was a temporary fantasy and ridden as dust as your hand unconsciously grazes your bare stomach, scars from years of this bullshit that pays the rent are all your fingers felt. The sensation your fingertip heeded, the jaggedness, makes your mind flash through all the horrid memories it mercilessly stored. From your youth to the start of your career as a devil hunter. Both were moments where your life appeared to be falling apart. This is your life. Each scar held a story you could only wish to forget. All this thinkin' had you remember Kishibe.

You sighed at the thought, and smoke flew out, grazing your bottom lip.

"Fifty men and women rushed in to save the little girl!"

On the television, a man's voice exclaimed. His exclamation locked your stray gaze, successfully escaping the madness your mind contained.

You continue to watch the screen half-heartedly as your hand robotically raises the volume. Normally, you weren't one for the news. Not with the career you uphold. But hell, why not? Given that everything was being shown live, it sounded like a typical "hero civilians" tale.

The newscaster continued, elaborating more. "A fiend has restricted the girl and her family inside. Where are the devil hunters? No problem." The young man pointed behind him at the run-down house, "these civilians are tired of waiting and are rushing in!" he stated.

You bring your right leg up onto the couch, resting your cheek against your knee, leaving you in an odd, but weirdly comfortable position. "A fiend huh?" Feels like you can never truly escape the devil's mania.

You wondered what type of fiend it was, and why exactly those fifty civilians just walked their way into the building with niche weapons. It's tragic how these conflicts typically turned out, pitting humanity against devils.

You knew this better than any civilian. You're a professional after all. There was only one way your brain could see this broadcast ends. Maybe two? Neither two joyous.

Hilariously, comically almost, right after the newscaster's bold statement, the man's face suddenly goes stiff and he leans forward, him holding his ear. It appeared as though he was listening to something entirely undisclosed to the viewer, whatever was being said causing his face to pale, and his handsome smile to falter, along with his masculine tone, it now turning into a sheepish boy.

"W-What?" he stuttered, eyes no longer on the camera but instead down on the ground. After half a minute the man nods and finally begins to proceed in the broadcasting. "Um...they all died.." he reported. To likely every viewer's shock. How could this live broadcasting go from happy-go-lucky to the reporting of fifty people's death?

In your mind, it made it more real. Because in real life, things can go from zero to a thousand in a matter of milliseconds. What a cruel joke.

The newscaster cleared his throat, his face straight. "Just in, the little girl killed them. E-Every single last one of them. There was a misunderstanding. She was the fiend and her whereabouts are in the dark as of right now..."

He continued to warn locals of the wandering fiend, and with that, you dissociated. Your eyes bore through the screen for a second, and your mind processed the information before closing them, irritated.

"Buncha' idiots," you muttered.

You turned the television off, eloping you in pure, dreadful darkness. The noises from the night city below your apartment made you rub your head in frustration. You placed your leg back onto the floor and then rested your elbows on your knees, back arched forward as you rubbed your eyes and held your head.

"Didn't come here to hear this shit," you groaned.

When opting to report this before the problem had been fully settled, the news station must have been in over its heads. How miserable. For those ratings, they wanted that "happy" story, didn't they?

You put out your cigarette and stood up from the couch, placing your scarred hands into your grey sweatpants pockets. You had trouble keeping your head up. That's enough TV for today, you thought.

You crouch down, grabbing your crinkled uniform shirt and tie from the floor, groaning about your back as you arise.

The slam from the washing machine didn't faze you. You click the button to begin the washing cycle and head straight toward the refrigerator not far from your washing and drying machine.

The stainless steel fridge buzzes as you apathetically gazed inside, holding the fridge door open with your other hand.

You heedlessly grab a cold can of beer and closed the door. On your way out of the kitchen, you grab two bags of chips off the counter and carry them through your apartment's hallways toward the bedroom.

Once inside your bedroom, you placed the junk onto your nightstand and flop down on your unmade bed. You roll onto your side and reach for your laptop, powering it on. As your laptop powered on you proceeded to pull your sweatpants off and kick them off onto the floor.

You sit up, underneath the blankets, and place your laptop onto your lap, proceeding to type your password. Since that broadcast fucked up your mood, and you're not tired yet, you might as well check your emails.

You click on a bookmark and it instantly takes you to your Gmail account. Your attention is drawn to the most recent email like a moth to a light bulb. It came from Makima, and they had chosen a partner for you.

Now that you think of it, did Makima give you the day off because she found you a partner? But why all the dramatics? This isn't your first rodeo, you didn't need to be sent home to 'mourn' or whatever.

Despite everything about this seeming entirely premeditated, you no longer gave a damn. Your eyes scanned the screen, reading the message. The message explained in detail this concept of sorts. Devil-hunters working with fiends. Along with how you were being offered to basically be a test subject. You reread the message and noticed that attached was a file of who your 'partner' was.

Surprisingly, your curiosity wasn't peak, you were pissed. First, you process what was being asked, more like told to you. You, a devil-hunter who has killed your fair share of fiends, alongside devils. Why should you work with an idiotic fiend? Who thought this was a good idea?

"What a buncha' baloney," you utter, eyes glued on the screen. This is entirely disrespectful to you.

Many other questions arise with this concept. What if this fiend kills someone on the job? Hell, you aren't interested in getting blamed for anything that wasn't your fault!

You lean over to the side to grab your beer. You position your index finger under the tab's ring and pull. It was cold in your hand but you didn't care as you chugged half the can down, some dripping down onto your chest and faintly drenching your sports bra and sheets. You placed the can back onto the desk and exchanged it for a bag of the chip.

No point in complaining in bed, there wasn't much you could do but accept. You'll give Makima a piece of your mind tomorrow. You opened the attached file and the document slowly loaded while you chomped down a handful of Doritos.

Maybe having a fiend as a partner will make it less burdensome when they're dead and gone.

The document finally decided to finish loading and you were faced with a screen of words.

The first bag of chips was finished and thrown onto the floor and the other grabbed another other bags.

"What's with fiends and their weird ass names?" you whispered while placing your legs in the crisscross position. The fiend's name, or rather, your partner's name you guess, was Beam.

Your eyes continued reading, the blue light from your laptop's screen reflecting from your tired eyes. The document stated the basics of this fiend. He was the Shark Fiend, the devil who embodies the fear of sharks that's now a fiend. The following section detailed the fiends apparent personality. It stated the following:

"Beam is childish, and one with a mentality similar to a child in some aspects. His attention span was ever so short unless he was doing something he found enjoyable.

"Speaking of things this fiend enjoys, he fancies fighting and eating. He's a bit eccentric, and his speaking style is hard to put into words. Beam often gives nicknames to people he likes, odd nicknames such as 'Master' or just copying a nickname he's heard given to the said person.

"Based on our interview with Beam, we have noticed he doesn't like wearing clothing. Every time he was dressed the next second he was exposed. We weren't able to convince him to wear a shirt, but we did successfully get him to wear pants.

"Regardless of everything said, Beam does have impressive control over his cravings, and above-average intelligence than other fiends."

You sighed. You got stuck with a child-like fiend of all things. Has Makima meetcha? You weren't exactly one for children, at least, not anymore. Kids only reminded you of the bad memories and how fucked up your life is.

You wiped the beer off your mouth, smearing it into nonexistence.

To be completely honest withcha self you weren't in the mood to complain anymore. This fiend guy or whatever was just gonna be your partner, no matter what you thought. If you're lucky he'll get eaten by a devil or kill someone and be sufficiently executed. Tomorrow you's problem. The next thing on your agenda is to get a few hours of sleep before work. But first, gotta dry those clothes for work tomorrow.

You groaned. Having stated that you closed your laptop and went back to doing your chores before quickly dozing off, wishing the light would never rise and for the night to last forever.

The next morning you approached Makima, a wooden toothpick between your lips and scowl fully exposed. You strolled the hallways of your workplace, people you passed saying morning as you brazenly passed them. Today, you weren't in the mood for their trivial greetings. You had a question you wanted an explanation for.

“What’s all this about?” you questioned the woman.

She stood coolly as always, not once have you seen Makima sweat from stress or intimidated. Ya can’t say you’ve never felt discomfiting around her presence, but unlike some other devil-hunters, you were trained to not show any of your emotions. Negative or positive. Devils feed off both, instead of just fear as many believe. Your instructor taught you that when you were a noob at this.

Makima’s gold eyes didn’t falter at your harsh tone. She didn’t raise her voice, glare at you, hell, punches you. Rather, she complimented you.

“You’re a dependable devil-hunter. And simply, I saw it best to choose you for this task,” she stated, simply. After a second or two passed, she continued.

“Is that understood?”

You didn’t quickly respond. Voicelessly, you chewed your toothpick, twisting and turning it with your teeth. Somehow, the spark within you falters when you speak to Makima. She tired you out, simply with her presence.

“...Where's my bud?" you finally asked. placing your hands whiten your slacks pockets.

Makima nodded, taking this as a yes from you. “Good. He’s being transported here for your meeting. I actually already have an assignment for the two of you.”

Now that was surprising, she expected you to just get along with a fiend that quickly? You twisted and turned the toothpick, the sharp edge poking your gums. “Yippie,” you sarcastically said in response.

Makima nodded, pleased with your appliance. She began to part ways with you before turning back around. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday. Happy 28th birthday,” she smiled. That’s the first person in years, even though it’s a day late, to tell you a happy birthday. How depressing, you could weep like a cloud. Your expression didn’t shift with Makima’s jokes, or whatever the fuck this was.

With a shrug, you decide to entertain the woman. “Didja gets me a gift or something,” you mocked. Though she answered it as a question.

“Unfortunately, I did not. However, I do have some paperwork I need you to look over. It’s on your desk,” she told, before leaving you alone in your spot, face ever so blank.

You removed your toothpick and rubbed your temples with a sigh. “Give me a damn break, Makima.” Soon, you also turn oppositely from Makima, and stroll back to your desk, a permanent scowl implanted on your face for the entirety of the morning.

The morning went on quickly yet slowly. You read the paperwork that Makima ever so kindly left for you regarding your partnership with the fiend. After finishing up with those papers you then read up a bit about the assignment Makima laid out for you and your partner. Then you went downstairs to greet, to put it simply, your new partner.

One headache after the other.

This whole experiment thing, fiends partnering with devil hunters, was weird to you, but hell, weird is your normal. You were somewhat glad you could go back on the field, paperwork was getting so fucking boring.

In the back of the HQ building, was an army van parked, and a man in a combat getup standing in front of it. You sighed when you approached the man, ready to get this all over with.

“Tis’ the fiend?” you asked hands in slacks pockets.

The man's hands were behind his back, posture straight, a head taller than you. He nodded. “Yes ma’am. And you’re _____ _____, I’m assuming?” he asked in a polite tone.

“Mhm,” you responded, chewing your tongue aloofly.

“Honestly didn’t expect a devil-hunter to look like ya,” he stated offhandedly, all while unlocking the van's back door locks.

You bit your cheek, tilting your head sluggishly. The man had waited maybe half a minute before you found the strength to respond. You had an idea of what he was saying, probably was flirting with you, not to sound cocky or anything.

“Look like what?” you asked, challenging his statement for no damn reason. The tone you held must’ve been a little harsher than intended as the bulky man in front of you faltered on his words like a grade-schooler at a spelling bee.

His face expressed realization, and he rubbed his neck apologetically. “Apologies. Disregard that. Ha, It wasn’t appropriate,” he apologized before clearing his throat awkwardly. Flirting it was then. Cool. Guess you’re delighted to be right.

“Nah, it’s cool,” you eased without much thought. You had to be honest, you were being harsh for no reason. Must be boredom. Tis’ probably why you can’t keep people in your life. What’s the reason again? Who’s the problem? Oh, the problem is you. And the reason is that you don’t put in the effort. Or, if you want to deflect you can just say no one ever puts in the effort for you. Not your parents, not your coworkers, hell, you don’t put effort into yourself either. What a dull life.

You squint your eyes. The sun takes a mischievous peak beside the building, and the blaring light shines past Devil Hunters Tokyo HQ, behind you, the man, and the military van. You admired, more like observed the scenery behind HQ’s building.

There's a dumpster, littered trash, cigarette buds, and a condom or two. And here you are, waiting to meet your new partner that isn’t even human in such a scenic environment. God, you wish you didn’t come in today.

While you were admiring your surroundings, you must’ve missed the guy opening the van back and turning back to you. He called your name perhaps a hundred times before you eventually responded. You are so out of it today, man. The moment the man has your attention, he starts to repeat or say what he was about to say when you lost focus.

“The fiend is inside,” he stated, shrugging inside the van that was filled with clouded darkness. You turned on your side and cast a quick glimpse inside. Your demeanor remained unaffected. You couldn't see a damn thing, not because you weren't a bit concerned. This guy might have night vision or some shit but you sure don’t.

You both exchange glances, and you awkwardly nod to show him that you at least acknowledge the presence of a fiend inside. Just can’t see it apparently. The man pauses for a brief moment before restating.

"It's not coming out, um. The fiend, that is," he clarified.

"Oh, okay then,” you said, turning back to the open van with no light. With a groan, you began to call out to the fiend. “Hey, buddy! Come on out. What are ya, scared of the light?” you jested.

At first, there was no movement or sound from the van. Until it spoke, the shadows spoke, barely audible, hesitant almost. “Are you my buddy?” the darkness asked you.

You dropped your hands into your slacks pockets before responding unenthusiastically. “Yep, that would be me...” Can not believe you’re making conversation with a fiend. “You’re my partner, bub,” you added, mostly saying this to yourself. To remind you that this fiend is your partner and you aren’t his. You aren't equal.

Another silence surrounded you all before the fiend responded. However, this time it came out of the van in all its glory. You clenched your teeth.

The shark fiend’s human form resembles an athletic young man, just without the chiseled face. Instead, he had a shark's snout and fin rather than the top half of his head, and no eyes to be seen. Wonder how things look through his eyes. Just like the file you were given said, he wore no shirt, exposing his torso. As they had mentioned, he only wearing a pair of swimming trunks. Thankfully you were prepared for the sight.

“Yes! I am Beam!” he clamored. There was no longer any hesitance or timidness in his voice, instead, it was replaced with lucrative energy and delight. The shark fiend had the biggest grin on his face as he absorbed your cold presence and observed the features of his human partner.

You didn’t respond right away, making the fiend stare at you, in anticipation, you guessed. With a shrug you reply, turning on your heel in the process. “Kay. Follow me,” you said, walking from the van and to the side building exit. You waved your hand back to the man in the uniform, your other in your slacks pockets. “Thanks for the help, bud.”

You did not wait for the fiend in your steps, making Beam rush after you like a child playing tag with their friends. As he went after you he also waived after the guy: copying you. “I thank you also, human guy bud!” he rejoiced as he followed behind you.

The walk was quiet, no action was made by you to insinuate the conversation. Beam would observe your side view every few seconds as he walked beside you now.

Beam didn’t know where he was or where you were both going. The sights that surrounded him were uninteresting. There were empty food stalls, empty grass fields, and a large empty playground. Now that he thought about it, Beam thought these places looked fun, and he wanted to touch all of them!

Before he could ponder about the sights further he notices you voicelessly take a box of cigarettes out. He decides to take this as his chance to strike up a conversation. Though your fast walking pace made it sort of hard for him to speak and walk. Normally he’d just walk through anything in his way, it’s simpler that way!

“Ahhhhh, buddy, where are we going?” he asked. He waited patiently for you to respond. You had a cigarette between your lips and a lighter in your grasp. When he doesn’t get a response he just thinks you didn’t hear him so he asks again. “Excuse me, buddy! Where are we going too?” he repeated, making you internally sigh.

You exhale, smoking escaping in the process. “To fight some baddies. A devil kinda like’cha,” you responded. You spent the entire morning reading the assignment that Makima wanted you and your "partner" to carry out considering your skills were appropriate for the aforementioned devil.

Beam gleamed at this. “We’re already fighting? I’m very excited!” he gushed, smiling boyishly.

You shrugged. “You sure are talkative,” you uttered. It wasn’t like you weren't prepared for Beam's personality, they did give you his file. However, reading it and experiencing it were two different things; that can be said for many other things.

Beam's smile seemed to grow, sharp teeth exposed. ‘Yes! I very much enjoy talking. And I am Beam!” he jabbered. Beam was happy you were starting to talk to him, so he reintroduced himself. Irritating you unintentionally.

“Heard ya the first time Beam,” you grumbled, putting out the cigarette in your suit's sleeve.

Beam however didn’t catch your annoyance and continued. “Your name is _____ _____. Correct?”

Whoever brought Beam to Tokyo must’ve told you your name since you didn’t introduce yourself to the fiend earlier. You nodded. “Correcto, Beam,” you confirmed.

He crossed his bare arms and stopped in place, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “Humans have such long and complicated names!” he stated. He then points to himself. “Mine is fast and easy!”

When he halted, you stopped right where you were, turned around, and made eye contact with the fiend for the first time, or rather you just stood there, not knowing where or what his eyes were. What was this fiend getting at? Did he just splatter out whatever was on his goddamn mind?

“...Ain’t that so,” you said. Not knowing what else to say honestly. While you and Beam are stopped in place you survey your surroundings. This place is exactly as described, a small town, with grass fields that stretch for miles. And it’s very quiet.

You're kind of hungry, you and Beam have passed by plenty of empty food stands but it was early, after all. Maybe one was open. Beam called out to you, breaking you from your thoughts.

You turn your focus to him. “We’re almost there,” you said.

“Then why do we stop?” he asked. Beam wasn’t like other fiends, you can see that now. Just from basic things such as being able to hold a conversation and him following along, well, to a degree.

“No rush,” you eased, placing your hand into your black blazer pockets. “I’m hungry. So I’m going to eat something first,” you explained. You wave for Beam to follow you, and he obediently does.

The further the two of you walked, the more empty the streets felt. The silence brought a chill, but Beam seemed to be oblivious to the off-putting lack of sound. Regardless, you do find one stand about to open. You scanned the menu, they sold everything you would find at a coffee shop, but the stand had more charm than any Starbucks you’ve been to.

“Get me a large espresso,” you said after scanning the menu.

The cute coffee stand was being run by a teenage boy, around 15-16 years of age. His shaggy chestnut hair was disheveled, and his matching eyes were antsy. You assumed he was just opening up the stand as everything wasn’t in order yet, and he was flustered when you began to order. His flusteredness was also probably due to the partially naked monstrous fiend standing next to you.

Beam credulously admired the hollow surrounding as the boy stared in fear and confusion. You rested your elbow on the stand, devil-hunter badge held in front of the boy's face. “Ya got that?” you firmly repeated.

He stuttered in response. “Y-Yes ma’am!” he fretted. He then began brewing up your drink while synchronously setting up shop.

You turn back to Beam, your arms folded firmly underneath your chest. “Beam. Do you like coffee?” you asked.

Beam shimmered. “I think so?!” he exclaimed, now practically bouncing in excitement. He and caffeine perhaps wasn't a good idea mixed.

You purse your lips. “‘Kay,” you said.

Your gaze slipped down to Beam's chest then to his defined abs. He didn’t seem to notice your stare, instead rambling about coffee or something like that. Beam had a good-looking body and he wasn’t shy about showing it, or he was just naïve to the fact that his body is attractive. He had no shame going out in public practically naked.

You flip your gaze back to his face. “I’ll buy you that coffee if you put on my blazer,” you bargained.

Beam responded in a heartbeat. “Your torso covering?” he questioned.

“Uh, ya?” That’s a weird way to describe a blazer. This must be what they meant by Beam's weird way of wording things. How did he know what a torso was and not a coffee? Now that surprised you. His wording kind of irked you, but it also kinda charmed you.

“Just while we’re eating. People have been staring.” That was a lie as nobody was outside, you were the only one staring and you knew it, but come on, anybody would say the same thing!

The fiend whined like a child, shoulders slouched. “But--” he began, but you interrupted, not willing to adjust your deal. You’ve heard enough tantrums in your life to see one coming.

“Yes or no, only.”

Beam pouted, almost painfully. His mouth opened and closed as he tried coming up with a retort. It was cute, the expression he made as he thought so hard. Though you weren’t one to back down.

You glared back at the crabby fiend.

“BUT--I really really really despise torso coverings!” he whined.

You almost start to laugh openly at this, but you bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud as Beam continues to protest. Seemingly not noticing your charmed conduct.

“They’re uncomfortable!” he added, flaring his arms like a helicopter's blades. You never thought a fiend could actually be so...human. You never thought you would experience a certain joy in a fiend's presence. Beam had charmed you without you even trying.

“Oh really? No coffee then,” you shrugged, turning back to the coffee stand. The barista already placed your espresso down and only stood there awkwardly, watching you and Beam banter. You breezily grab your coffee and begin to pay, ignoring the feeling of Beam's gaze on your back.

Doesn’t take long for Beam to burst. “Fiiiiiiine!!” he grumbled, fists bunched and pout palpable.

Your gaze was down on the stand and…you smiled. Nobody saw it, not the barista or your partner. Hell, you neither. Though you could feel the serotonin inside. Beam truly was childish and quite dramatic. Can’t imagine him hurting anyone. This thought was wrong, you know you shouldn’t be underestimating a fiend, you know better than that.

You scoff, grabbing your toasty espresso, the cardboard box warm in your hand. “Add on to my order a…affogato and two ham and cheese kolaches."

The boy's face was awed, and he nodded frantically. “Y-Y-Yes ma’am!!” before beginning the rest of your order quietly.

You leaned against the stand and examined Beam’s demeanor. He stared back at you, oddly not saying a word for once. Beam instead, waited patiently for you to say what was on your mind, more patience than anyone else you know in your life.

“Do you like human food, Beam?”

He looked as if he was in thought, in a very cartoony way, holding his chin and looking up at the same sky as you. “Maybe? Do you like it?”

The shuffling from behind you didn’t bother you, too focused on Beam. You squeezed yourself further as if you were hugging yourself. “Mhm.”

There was a silence that neither you nor Beam broke. The only sounds heard were the seagulls in the sky and the shuffling of the barista. The smell of fluffy bread and creamy coffee is what took over your nose.

You stared up at the rich sky. Every day the sky held a different appearance as if you all were blessed with a new one each day; when in reality it was the same ole sky as yesterday. The same sky that witnessed your tears of anger, frustration, and utter chaos. But Beam, he didn’t see that. He couldn’t understand the misery behind your icy glare. He didn’t understand it. Does that mean he can’t see it?

You rolled your shoulders. What with these sentimental thoughts? “Course I do. I’m a human after all,” you mocked.

Beam didn’t seem to have noticed your snappy comeback and moved the conversation. Reminding you why you're both in this small town. “When will we fight?”

You respond shortly after. “After we eat.” Beam shoots you another question before you could even blink.

“Who are we fighting?” he added to his initial question.

You scrunch your nose. “A devil,” you said.

“Where are we fighti-” he began to ask.

“-Beam. Quit with the who, when, what, where, why, and ’sometimes’ how shit. You’ll see when we’re there,” you snapped, putting an end to his waterslide of questions. Goodness, he truly was a child.

You begin to smoothly rub your temple as the barista places your order down, holding his hands. He looked bashfully at the ground, palms sweaty. “Y-Your order ma’am,” he notified, keeping a moderate distance.

You sighed. What's with kids being so bashful nowadays? “How much?” you asked, turning to face the boy all while digging through your wallet. Beam watched over your shoulder, sniffing your order. If he had a tail it'd be wagging right about now.

The barista's brown eyes couldn't seem to stay in place or keep eye contact. His face was as steamy as the kolaches, his nervousness really did show. “2-2,050 yen…” he stated.

Beam began to drool at the smell, literally, drool fell on the shoulder of your blazer. With a light shove, you put a stop to the sticky line of drool that was falling from Beam's mouth, all while shaking your head like an old man disappointingly looking at the youth of today, hell you felt like one.

You sighed again, passing the barista three thousand yen. Your hand faintly touched his, which in response startled him. “Here ya go, kid. Keep the change,” you said as you grabbed your order and passed Beams his affogato. “Let’s go Beam.” You then walked away from the warm booth, continuing your walk around the empty town.

Beam followed, drink in hand. “I thank you also, kid!”

It seemed as if the wind was trying to tip you over, stop you in your tracks or just blow you and Beam away. Your hair was about to give out to the harsh gust of winds, plus you were getting chilly now that you were missing your blazer. Beam, however, seemed unaffected by the current airflow, only focused on the cup of coffee in his hand.

Your blazer was a tight fit on Beam's torso, but he didn’t seem that bothered. You sort of regretted your deal to buy him a coffee if he wore it since now you were fucking freezing!

Beam instantaneously followed beside you, spilling coffee into his mouth, tongue out like a dog. “This is super tasty!” he noted aloud, licking the cream from his lips.

You took a sip of your espresso as you watched Beam now chomp down a kolache in slight interest. “Hopefully it doesn’t keep you talking all day. And make sure not to waste any crumbs,” you warned. Hoping he didn’t stain your blazer, that’s a part of your work uniform, after all.

“Human food is so tasty!” he gushed.

You turned your gaze to the side, a gust of wind passing by; you squinted your eyes. “Ain’t that so?” you replied half-heartedly.

Man this town was suspicious, but there was still no devil in sight. It was now past noon and there were still no people outside. The only person you've seen was the boy from earlier setting up his stand further behind. Your mind could only come up with one or two possible stories on what happened to this modern ghost town.

Beam however was ever no oblivious. “Yes, very much so! I give you my thanks, my buddy!” he stated.

You didn’t give him a response and instead stopped in your tracks.

All the trees swayed in havoc, and the sky was clearer than the ocean. The wind didn’t come to an end, it was exhilarating. Though this wasn’t ‘cause of any devil, tis’ all nature you’re observing. Nature can’t help but be affected and be put in the game of humans and devils.

Beam stopped in his tracks soon after you and stared at your paused side view, confusion littered on his face. The wind combed through his dark hair, messing it up more than it already was.

He called out to you. You didn’t respond.

The destructive wind was whispering to you in a familiar tone, a tone you damned. It warned you of what was going to happen, but with no specifics, as always. You didn’t look behind you, only forward. Your silence was making Beam discombobulated.

However, you were to focus on the magnetic feeling you felt in your left hand, and without thinking, you opened your palms and at the speed of sound, a glassy trident bolted into your curled grasp.

The trident was as clear as the approaching water and was about twice your size long. It glistened as the glass it was composed of reflected the light: blood staining the three prongs.

Before Beam could react to the situation, he hears a harsh thump behind you two. Instinctively, you both turn around to find the barista boy fallen on the ground, three dark red holes through his torso.

You close your eyes as you let out another sigh. “Good grief. Look who it is, Beam..” you stated, placing the heavy weight of your transparent trident on your shoulder.

Beam pointed a finger at the boy. “Coffee guy! I didn’t even see him,” he blurted. You both stared down at the bleeding boy clinging on.

“Me neither. Just thought it’d be best to send for my trident since we’re walking these suspiciously empty streets all by our lonesome.”

Your free hand held the now warm coffee cup that the boy in front of you cooked up, walking closer to his fallen form. “This neighborhood, tis' a normally highly populated area. And it’s noon, somebody ought to be outside, odd how that stand was the only one open, eh?”

You stopped and crouched down to his level. “You had a good thing going on with the coffee stand, fiend. Almost had me convinced.” Tis’ your first time coming across a fiend who lived a ‘normal’ life. Let’s say you’re intrigued.

The fiend moved its long, brown mop of hair, exposing two iron fish fins attached to his left and right temple. There it is, the headpiece that makes it a fiend. Though honestly, you weren't here for a fiend.

He stuttered in his response, just like before “G-G-Good things don't last forever, ma’am.” He coughed out blood, attempting to lift himself.

You kick it fully onto the ground and trap it between the three prongs of your trident. “Where’s the Fish Devil? You’re one of its puppets, aren't cha?” you pushed.

Beam voicelessly watched you interrogate the fiend, silent amazement in his eyes. The fiend clenched his teeth. He no longer looked like a nervous barista as he had believed before. He looked like the killer of this town.

“J-Just die! None of this would have happened if you didn’t bring that fiend. If only I didn’t expose myself...to it," he jabbered, "If I kill you...they’ll let me continue to run my stand."

“The fish devil?” you surmised, but the fiend only growled at you, refusing to speak further. So you stand up from your crouch position. “You’re useless to me then,” you uttered, staring down at the young-looking fiend.

You took the last sip of your espresso. “Good coffee though." You pull the trident out of the ground with all your strength and swung it onto your shoulder, turning to Beam, back hunched. “Beam. Mind beating this fiend up for me, buddy?” you asked.

Beam gleamed like a newly bloomed flower, stars in his eyes. He’s never been so impressed by a human. He never felt so flustered around one either. “A-Ah, of course, I can...for you buddy!” he raved. Beam's eagerness to please you wasn’t noticed as he passed you.

You turned from the sight of the bloodied fiends and the glistening shark fiend. You threw your cup onto the dirt beside your foot, unleashing your free hand, you then reach your free hand into your pocket and pull out a cigarette.

The cigarette stared back at you as you placed it between your lips, and lit it up. The commotion behind you doesn’t faze you, your mind is too focused on the pleasing feeling of smoke invading your lungs.

You stared up at the sky. It was still blue and cloudless; you made a wish to the sky then. For things to never change, just like the skies' blue shade.

Before you knew it, you didn’t hear anything from behind you, and Beam was again beside you. You turned to him. He was covered in scratches and blood splattered all over him, though it didn’t seem to faze him. Hell, it seemed nothing fazed him. Beam turned to you and anticipatedly waited for you to say something.

“Beam,” you said, an air of smoke escaping your lips as you said this. You look down at the opening of your blazer that Beam wore, where Beam's chest still showed. The idiot never buttoned it up.

You raised your gaze back up to his face. “You got my fucking blazer bloody,” you barked, removing your cigarette from your mouth, leaving it between your index and middle finger.

If Beam had animal ears, they’d be down. “S-So sorry..miss,” he mumbled, inexplicably stuttering. What’s with his change in behavior, he’s being all…submissive.

You glared at the fiend, transferring the trident weight on your shoulder. “What’s with the ‘miss’ now, eh?’ you questioned but shrugged it off.

“Whatever, let’s continue searching for this devil,” you stated and you both continued walking the town in search of this devil, dead fiend behind ya. Beam, however, could never see you in the same light again after this occurrence. Hell, he didn’t ever want to.

Beam and you resumed your mission of locating the fish devil and figuring out the status of the missing residents of this town. You can confidently say that the people are dead and gone, swallowed and digested. Sometimes it’s just best to assume rather than cling to heterogeneous possibilities.

The current atmosphere between you and Beam after the unknown fiend's appearance is apparent. Beam went silent after the ordeal. You went quiet also, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary for ya. However, just like a phone turning back on after getting charged, Beam was soon back to himself, repeatedly calling your name.

“Mistress ______, mistress _____, mistress _____!” he repeated over and over again.

You narrowed your eyes. God, he is weird. This must be what they meant by Beams' outlandish nicknames. Your shoulders were slouches from carrying the rod of a trident on them for so damn long. “Why d’ya keep calling me that?” you asked. He responded like a bat straight out of hell.

“‘Cause you are my mistress, Mistress _____!” he extolled, aimlessly following behind you. His response was very much vague, so you asked again.

“Yeah. But why?” you reworded, hiding the frustration in your voice.

“‘Cause you are my mistress, Mistress _____!” he replied.

You stop in your tracks and glare at the fiend. He had to be fucking with you. He literally just repeated the same response as last time. Beam stopped behind you. “Yea,” you said. “But why exactly am I your mistress, Beam?”

Beams didn't spontaneously respond. He held his chin. Looked down at the dirt road in thought before coming to a reply he thought you would like. “You are my mistress, Mistress _____…?” he mumbled.

You shook your head to keep it from burning up. “Ne’er mind…” It was clear you were not getting anywhere with this. This fiend just repeated the same response over and over and it was obvious to you he was the one getting confused, true audacity.

“Just stop callin’ me that. I’m not’cha mistress.” you clarified.

He burst after you said that. “I am your servant, Mistress _____! Your strength has inspired me! So I will follow you!” he loudly and proudly declared. What a weirdo.

“Mhm. Whatever you say Beam.” you dismissed his compliments. At least you thought they were compliments from him.

“You are very strong, Mistress _____. How?” he asked, elated.

You went silent for a moment. The devil you were contracted with. Why would a fiend care, you thought, beside this thought you answered Beam’s question, gazing at the setting sun. “

I have a contract with the Mermaid Devil.”

Beam pushed for more, his interest piqued. “A contract? Contracts have conditions, what’re yours?” he further inquired.

You sighed. The trident held on your shoulders felt heavy, a heavy reminder of your contract with the mermaid devil. If you wanted to be dramatic you’d say everything changed after you agreed to that perverted devil's contract. Beam notices your silence and empty eyes.

“Mistress...?”

You remove your trident from your shoulders, digging the three spears into the dirt, residing it there before squatting down to rest for a bit, wondering about your next move. Are you going to avoid the question? Go silent on him and just continue this mission. Or are you really going to talk to him?

“...You ever met the Mermaid Devil?” you asked, even though it wasn’t likely to be a yes. As you expected, he shook his head. You placed your elbow on your knee, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

“Don’t then. They’re disgusting,” you stated. You didn’t have many regrets, they held people back, but agreeing to that contract is a hair away from being one. “This trident was made by them using the shedding from its...scales,” you explained, eyes on the glossy trident, your face reflecting against it like a mirror.

“Is that what makes them gross?” he asked you.

You shook your head. “No. The trident is what binds the mermaid devil and me. It’s the source of power for our contract. What makes The mermaid devil so perverted starts with how it’s known to only do contracts with women. They have perverted envy. They do these contracts to remove their femininity. They enjoy that, it’s twisted stuff.”

“And for my contract I…I doubt you’ll understand but...I agreed to give them all my eggs along with my monthly blood from my menstrual cycle. Haven’t had a period for around, hell, almost half decade.”

Before you could think too much about it, you shook your head. “Eh, it could've been worse. I’ve heard stories of women who’ve lost their breasts and more.”

Beam stood silent, processing the information you told him, you stayed silent, but your mind rambled. Why did you say all that? Why were you talking about something so personal with a fiend? You’re telling this fiend you just met something you never told anyone else.

Maybe...you really did always want to tell someone. Hell, no one really asked.

Your parents were ashamed you were a devil hunter in general, disgusted with all your actions, and avoided speaking to you. No one cared how all this shit bothered you. Yeah yeah, your parents never stopped mourning the death of your siblings, but for the love of fucking Christ you were there. You were mourning too. You didn’t need them shaming everything you did. All you needed was for someone to notice you were upset.

“This upsets you?” Beam asked. He didn’t fully understand what you were saying, but he could tell you were upset saying it. You, however, didn’t answer his question. Opting to not respond, because you didn’t know what to say. Out of everyone, he was the first to ask you if you were upset. Not if you needed a day off, or if you were moody; he asked if you were upset. It’s a shame he’s the first.

Beam stared down at you, the sky setting behind him. “I get sad when you’re sad, Mistress _____!” he remarked, pointing at you.

You rubbed your eye. “Heh, you get sad? I thought fiends couldn’t feel emotions like empathy." You scoffed. "Why would you feel bad for me anyway, we just met buddy.”

You stood up and dusted yourself off. Before you could reach for your trident, Beam shoved your blood-stained blazer into your arms, chest now exposed. “Because you’ve been so kind to me, Mistress _____. And I like you very much, and I don’t want to see you sad! Please be happy!“

This fiend...isn’t too bad. Hell, can’t say you hate him so that’s good enough. “Ha? You’re an odd one, buddy. Let’s head back to HQ. I don't see no devil.”

And that was the beginning of a newfound friendship. The days seemed to go by in seconds. Sun came then went and the moon took its place. You settled nicely into your new routine with Beam. Every morning your buddy would be waiting for you at HQ. Honestly, you didn’t know if he lived there or if they dropped him off every morning.

However, on this particular day. Beam wasn’t waiting for you like normally. A shift in the routine. Another thing that stood out was that Makima called you to speak privately. Your eyes subtly widen at her words to you. Though you attempted to act like yourself and nonchalant.

“Beam needs to be relocated,” she stated, hands laced with one another. She stood in front of you as if she was towering over you. Her hypnotizingly beautiful eyes stared through you.

You crossed your arms. “‘Kay? What does that have to do with me?” you retorted, leaning against your desk. "I know nothing about his living conditions."

She continued on with her statement, unfazed by your offensiveness. “And it’s best if he moves in with you,” she added, simply.

You glared at her for a minute. What’s with Makima stacking things on your plate? You already accepted being a part of this experiment but this was going kind of fucking far if you say so yourself.

“And why am I the first option?” you rightfully asked. “What’s the normal procedure when a fiend’s picked up anyway?”

Makima leaned against your desk beside you. “Normally, they’re killed on the spot if they are out of control. However, in certain situations, there are ‘sane’ fiends who are well enough to be interviewed by psychologists.”

Right, you recall reading that file for Beam.

Makima continued. “After successfully gathering the information sought, they either send them off to get experimented on or they’re killed based on how much chaos they caused before the interview.”

Your eye twitches. “Where has Beam been stationed at?”

Makima cups her chin. “He’s likely being watched over by the psychologist in his cell where he was interviewed.”

His cell? What the hell? Beam never told you anything about no cell. At the end of each day, he shimmers so happily as he waved you off. You wouldn’t have thought he had been going home to a cell when your time together ended.

Makima watched your reaction. “Back to what I was saying earlier. It isn’t possible for Beam to be stationed there forever, and a decision needs to be made for his relocation,” she pushed.

“As everything with you partnering with Beam has been good, I put up the suggestion of him moving in with you. In this case, you can watch Beam on a better level. Though, they’ll only agree if you’ll agree to it.”

You stayed silent, lost in your thoughts and emotions. Makima side-eyes you, hand still squeezing your shoulder. “I would hate for all this to be for nothing,” she said. You both make eye contact. “You understand.”

You remove yourself from her side hug, stuffing your hand into your pocket. You felt odd. All warm and fuzzy. It genuinely...intimidated you. You waved her off. “Ahhhh fuck it. I gotcha’ Makima,” you said.

Your appliance makes the woman smile and nod. “I’ll make sure you get the paperwork by the end of today,” she informed you, before lifting herself from your desk and making her way toward the exit.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, great, great,” you murmured.

So you’re gonna have to live with a fiend too? Man, they really are asking a lot out of ya. They must have some personal vendetta against ya. You should ask for a pay raise. You grumble your way to your desk and prepare yourself for the junkyard of paperwork you’re going to sign.

As anticipated, Beam was relocated with you a few weeks later. You would say it happened all so fast but it was truly a long wait. Mostly due to you informing your landlord about your roommate, and the HQ wanted to make sure you had your shit together and could watch over a fiend.

A few days after the paperwork was signed and sent you informed your partner about his new living arrangements since no one else did. He was elated. And you’d be lying if you weren't a little intrigued. Intrigued by what living with Beam would be like. Hell, it’d probably be like having a child move in, or maybe a hyper dog, who knows?

After giving Beam a tour of your apartment and the ground rules, Beam pointed something out. Something very important. Starting with your couch, it was quite dirty. Actually, the entirety of your apartment was pretty dirty and unkempt. Really unkempt.

So on your first day with your fiend roommate, you both cleaned and organized. Washing clothes, dishes, and dusty counters. Beam caught along rather fast. You were able to teach him how to clean things, but he wasn’t any good at organizing things. That didn’t matter to you anyhow.

You were enjoying yourself. Even though you didn’t show it, Beam had a feeling you were having fun too. You never thought you’d have fun cleaning the house. Kinda reminds you of a time when you were a kid.

Your older brother and younger sister had hated cleaning, and you hated it too, but one day during summer break your rooms were so filthy that your parents threatened your summer vacation if the chores were not done that day. So you and your sibling cleaned all day till your hands felt like rubber. It was fun just being with your siblings. Even if it was something as bland as cleaning, they always made things fun.

You swept the floor as Beam dusted the wall's silence. The thought of your family made you ask Beam a question, “You’ve ever been swimming, Beam?” you asked, sweeping the little particles of trash into one big pile.

Beam tilted his head from the other side of your apartment. “Like in the ocean. Ever seen the sea?” you elaborated.

Beam halted his dusting, duster in hand. “No, not ever."

You chuckle, placing the broom against the wall. “That’s hella hilarious. You wear those wacky swim trunks all the time, plus you’re literally the shark fiend. It's a damn shame," you teased, pulling the oversized shirt you wore down to cover your thighs.

Beam placed the duster down and sat on the couch, then rested his head on the armrest, watching you sweep. “Have you been, Mistress _____?”

You shrugged. “Naturally. My parents used to take me and my siblings every summer and rent out a beach house and all that good stuff,” you said with a hint of a smile on your face.

“Haven’t been back in, hell, a solid 20 years.” The last time your parents did that was when you were 8 years old. They didn’t follow the tradition the years after, as those were properly the hardest years of all your lives.

“Did you find it fun?” Beam asked, watching your every reaction. He was a good listener, a very good listener. He always made you feel like he wanted to hear whatever you said.

You faintly smiled. “It was nice,” you whispered. You placed the broom in the corner of the room and sat next to Beam on the couch. “My brother used to always pull me and my sisters into the ocean, and…we’d play till our fingers were all wrinkly. The sun appeared to never go down, always seeming to set each time I checked. As if time wasn't passing.”

Those were the good days. Good summer days. You can still feel the warmth of the sun from those days. The sun shined a little brighter than it does now. That’s perhaps the reason behind your fixation on the never-ending sky.

Beam shoots you another question. “You were happy, Mistress?” he inquired.

You nodded. “Yeah. I was happy,” you muttered.

The apartment went into a void of silence. Neither you nor Beam picked up your cleaning equipment, deep down you still wanted to talk, and Beam had another question.

“Let’s go this summer,” you said suddenly, Beam stared confused. “This can be our little old tradition as buddies,” you suggested.

You didn’t know what came over you as you wrapped your atm around Beam's shoulder. “Every summer we’ll rent out one of those fancy beach houses and swim till we can't no more. How bout that, Beam?”

He nodded rapidly. “I am excited! Very excited, Mistress _____! I’m very happy to attend with you!” he jabbered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder also. You savored the feeling of your arm on his shoulders, and Beam savored the feeling of intimacy.

“Me too, Beam. Let’s finish unpacking before we start planning.”

Beam agreed and you both cleared your apartment. After cleaning for hours upon hours you both finally had time to relax together as roommates in a now-clean apartment.

You suggested a movie would be nice. Since the couch coverings were the last thing you and Beam washed for the night, you both made a fort on the floor in front of the TV.

The movie you watched was some cliche American Christmas movie. Beam seemed to enjoy it. You stayed inside all night, in fear of the cold weather on the other side of your walls. You were able to convince Beam to wear a sweater for bed instead of half-naked.

Beam was already fast asleep before the movie ended, innocently snuggling against your heart. You didn’t push him off, yell at him, or wake him up. Hell, you know the reason why. The reason is…that he’s all you have, and you’re all he has. Why would you push the only person who matters away?

“I wonder...if you can ever understand how you make me feel, Beam,” you whispered, pulling his freezing body closer to yours, legs tangled together. And that arctic night, you both rested comfortably.

“Beam, how old are ya?” you asked at random.

You peered at the darkish, aquamarine sky, walking beside Beam as per usual nowadays. It has been nearly a year following your partnership with him, and you had no idea how old he possibly was.

It was perhaps a dumb question on your part as fiends are just immortal devils possessing human corpses who have no concept of being born into the world. You, however, asked despite the voice in the back of your mind calling you a fool since Beam would never.

Beam cartoonishly counted on his fingers, whispering to himself. You wait patiently and observe your surroundings.

This part of Japan was small, a small number of people were out and about around this area, a few of them staring at the fiend next to you on the daily basis during your daily patrols of this area.

Makima while back had given you and Beam this assignment of patrolling this area for any devil or fiend activity. So far there was nothing. All you both had documented was a few harsh storms that shook the town but that wasn't anything too abnormal.

Their judgmental stares didn’t bother Beam supposedly. It had been a month since you were assigned to these parts so you both were not new to these parts now, so you had no reason to whip your devil hunters badge at every person who bothered you.

You found this assignment quite useless since you and Beam's appearance was the only odd activity to the townsfolk.

The wind today was very dry and faint. Now that you pointed that out, the sky was quite greenish today too. Not the blue you’ve grown so accustomed to. An approaching cloud of debris also ushered closer, as if it were approaching these parts of town specifically. You shrugged it off as signs of one of those storms the townfolk stressed about.

Beam stopped counting. “I am older than you, Mistress!” he exclaimed.

You let out a raspy chuckle. Really? You initially found that hard-ass bricks to believe. Beam looked as if he was in his early twenties. In spite of that, fiends are just humans whose corpses were possessed by devils, so it’s understandable that Beam is reportedly older than you. Besides, why would he lie about it anyway?

You nodded, accepting his words as the truth. “Kay. When’s your birthday? We can celebrate it then if you remember,” you suggested offhandedly.

He scratched his hair. “I don’t know my very age or birthday, but I am very certain I’m older than you!” he said. You guess that’s fair.

“Mhm. My birthday was a little bit before I met you. It's coming up actually,” you murmured. Funny, that’s when you were made aware that you were partnering with a fiend. Initially, you were irritated at the idea, seeing it as foolishness. However, after your year with Beam, you think Makima was getting somewhere with her idea of fiends working with humans. You and Beam fought as a good pair, and yall results proved that. it’s just the cherry on top that you actually enjoy Beam’s company.

You suddenly come to a stop, Beam stops beside you. The weather was so dry and it exhausted you so you thought a little break from you and Beam's patrol of these parts wouldn’t be too troublesome. Leaning against the wall, you dig your hand into your pocket and remove the item residing inside. Beam stared at the sterling necklaces thingy in your hand.

“Oh right, I found this pendant thingy in some boxes when we cleaned the apartment,” you stated. The closed-shut silver pendent shimmered in your hand. Beam stood faithfully beside you, his dark hair blowing lightly with the breeze. Though it doesn’t bother him.

“What is a pendant, mistress?” he asked, looking down at the locket in your hand. You tried thinking of an efficient definition for your partner but only ended up sighing, it’s better to just show him.

“I don’t know how to dumb it down for ya,” you groaned while your hand flicked the pendant open, the pint-sized photo inside exposed. “But it has a picture of me in it. My brother gave it to me when we were kids. Honestly, I think he either found it or stole it from our mom. I just put this picture in though recently, the previous one was way outdated. It's a picture from when I was getting trained as a devil hunter.”

You handed it to him and he observed the picture of yourself from a few years back. Beam smiled brightly at the photo, holding it in a tight grip.

“Mistress! You look very lovely!”

“Hold onto it for me,” you said, ignoring his offhanded praise. “I’m getting all worried that I'll lose it with how windy it suddenly is,” you thought aloud, before looking at Beam staring at the photo.

You shook your head, rubbing something that flew into your eye from the wind that had picked up “I must be out of my mind to give it to you.”

Beam shimmered at your request. “I promise to keep your precious pendant safe, Mistress _____!!” he declared, squeezing the pendent shut in his fist.

You only waved him off dismissively and turned away. “Yeah yeah. I trust ya, Beam. Just try not to get it dirty then,” you nagged.

You and Beam leaned against that concrete wall in a pleasant silence. Beam mooned over the pendant you had trusted him with while you checked your pockets for a cigarette. Once your treasure was drugged out, you pulled a stick out and placed it in between your lips.

You sheltered the cigarette with your hand while the other held the metallic lighter. Right when you were going to light that sucker up, you noticed something. Something very quaint and startling. The wind had died down and the air had become possessed-still. You looked around, a chill slowly crawling up your spine. What's with the weather?

The wind has changed drastically in a matter of seconds, minutes, hours, hell, however long. Your teacher…used to tell you about this eerie feeling he’s felt. The feeling of silence and peace in a devil hunter's mind. The calmness before a storm, before their death.

"A...devil?" you wondered aloud.

And just then you and Beam concurrently wince violently at the boom. You drop your cigarette. An ear-splitting roar similar to a freight train assaults your ears and before either of you could comprehend what in the hell is happening; a vigorous blast of wind unanticipatedly blows past both you and Beam, rating, excoriating, and skinning your skin sharply like chalk to a chalkboard. The pain was excruciating.

Each speck of your body terribly throbbed, your clothing was torn left to right from the maleficent winds and your eyes were achingly shut, as if they were glued closed.

Your mind couldn’t recognize what was happening to even fully be aware of the pain. Things just went from zero to a billion times that. Your hair instantaneously felt like a wig being yanked out of your scalp, wildly being pulled in every sort of direction. Instantly your mind flew to Beam.

Where was he? Hell, where were you?

This…storm was bursting with health. It was close to sending you into the sky. You dug your foot further into the ground, your arms covered to protect your head. Your ripped clothing flew everywhere, whipping your scarred skin in the process. You gritted your teeth, eyes still shut.

A devil had to be the cause of this...of this tornado. A Tornado Devil? You had never heard of such a manifestation. But perhaps...that's why Makima sent you here. Why just you? You and Beam alone couldn't handle a devil manifestation. Unless...this was your destined death?

Where was Beam?

You didn't have time to think further as your heart pumped rapidly. Boldly, you expanded your other hand to your right, the place you last saw Beam, you just needed to feel him. Your ears disregarded the faded sounds of screams, crashing buildings, and flying cars.

Beam…was all that mattered. He was your priority.

You reach further, touching nothingness upon nothingness until the feeling of skinned flesh touches you. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes further, using all your strength to harshly pull and then push him through the door of the building you and him were previously leaning against. You faintly heard a crash…and no longer felt his touch.

Yet you felt relief.

Your legs buckle from the aggressive airstream and you fall onto the ground. The impact felt so much more painful with your already existing injuries. The wind did not stop, it never stopped. The madness around you did not end. And you felt a sense of calm, a sense of peace. Hell, you always knew you’d die, you didn’t know it’d feel so peaceful. You always thought death for you would be dreadful and lonely and mean nothing.

Though your partner is here with you to die. You don't want him to die though. He is the beauty behind this madness.

Before you knew it, your mind was hazy, your body was strengthless, and all you wanted to do at that moment was sleep as the horror tornado of the devil passed the town without a second glance or any pity.

Beams back ached and his throat felt like sandpaper. He opened his eyes to the sights around him. He’s in a convenience store, the place where you always bought your smoke sticks when he and you went on patrol in his area. The building was disheveled. The shelves were falling apart, barely standing, and a vast sound of snacks and drinks was spilled around what was left of the building. "What was that," he wondered.

All Beam recalled were him and his mistress taking a break from work and he was admiring the silver chain you had given him to protect. At this thought he lifted his arm up and opened his still balled up fist, to find the pended inside, his hands bloodied. He turned left and then right before forward, there was a broken door.

Beam stood up slowly but surely. He was pushed inside this building, seemingly by his mistress. Mistress… He couldn’t see you.

He limped his way out of the destroyed store, stepping on glass shards, and back into the outside world, where he found you in front of the building, on the ground, faintly breathing, gasping for more air.

“M-Mistress _____! Tis’ really bad…” he babbled, steering towards you.

You were in bad condition, even he can see that.

You chuckle, tears of bliss falling down your beaten face, wounded heart, and dulling eyes. Things really do go from zero to a billion in seconds. Hell, can’t say you predicted this would be the day you died, but you’re surprised at the cause of your death. However, Beams is here, holding your scuffed body, tail between his legs.

“Mistress _____! You are bleeding a lot. Y-You must stop that! Please stop bleeding…” he pleaded.

Beam’s here to see you off, the only person who matters in this fucking world. The only one who stuck around. The pain in your lower abdomen stung like a bitch, like having a cut on your finger and putting hands sanitizer on it, only plus about a billion. Can’t particularly put it on a scale of one to ten as you’re too accustomed to pain, but this did hurt like a crashing motherfucking truck.

Disregarding the blood seeping down your face, you spoke. “Beam…” you gasped. Never had you felt more vulnerable, never had you let yourself be vulnerable in front of anyone. Beam watched you breathe shallowly, and the blood seeped down your face.

The smell of your blood was intoxicating his mind, his cravings, and appetites, but also was tugging his heart, and also messing with his mind; confusing him. The blood soaking his hand wasn’t food, it was his mistress. His partner, his first buddy. How could he think about eating you when you’re like this?

He sobbed, squeezing the pendant in his hand, wishing his thoughts and cravings would stop. Beam couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way. He’s never felt this way before, this amount of anguish and terror. Though when you grab his face, your coarse palm filling up with his salty tears, it makes him so happy.

“You’ve given me so much joy, Beam. Consider this sacrifice…my thank you,” you said, not once breaking eye contact with him. Hell, wherever his eyes were, it didn’t matter, you just had this desire to stop those tears from coming from a place unknown and irrelevant to you.

Since when did drawing breath seem so painful? It’s like you were breathing in harsh waves of wind, the waves crashing against one another within your lungs. You turn your head to the side, the jagged concrete scraping the back of your head. Behind Beam's blurry face, was something so blue, so familiar: the sky.

The sky emptily stared down at you, and it spoke to you.

You rolled your head back to its previous position, eye to eye with your partner. He didn’t move from your touch, he stayed as still as a statue; embracing this moment of you embracing him.

“I don’t want you killing yourself over this or…whatever. I want you to learn so many things, and...to experience life before that. Don’t…worry Beam, when your time comes we’ll have so much to talk about.”

You smiled at him. If only he knew how many times he’s made you smile, you would never be able to thank him for that. Your last thought, your last idea: ‘I promise you’ll be taken care of…I made sure of that. Please see it for me, experience a wave of life for me, Beam.’

Your hand uncontrollably lets go of his face. The aloof limpness from your body felt unreal In his grasp. He bewilderedly stared at you.

”Mistress…”

Beam couldn’t understand, how could you just die? Why was it that easy? He shook his head, tears spilling with each shake.

“I-I don’t understand. I apologize for not understanding. Please come back now...” he begged, but with no response.

You never came back to him. Beam had lost you.

With time your words dissolved, and Beam stuck them to his heart, deciding that he’ll walk all around this earth, through the pits of hell until he comes back to you. He knew his mistress wouldn’t stay away from him if they had a choice. He’ll come back to you then, like the loyal servant he is, staying jovial till that day comes. Wishing that you’d be able to see the place that made you so happy.

Beam wished…he was at peace alongside you.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

#© UNDERSCAR #x female reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #csm #chainsaw man #chainsaw man x y/n #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #csm x y/n #csm x reader #csm x you #chainsaw man beam #beam x reader #chainsaw man beam x reader

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underscar · 1 year

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DIE IN A PLACE OF LOVE

Pairing: Near/Female Reader/Mello

Summary: The flowers of spring were your proximate stimulus, displayed not in a sheltered and rancid dwelling nor through a difficult pathway, but instead lingering in an affectionate grass field. You thought a lot about life as your illness became more and more terminal. The presence of two childhood friends encourages reflection. Mello hoping to be helpful during this challenging time of your life, while on your bedside always was Near watching you with morbid interest. Your decisions since becoming ill had seemed questionable to both of them. How you chose to stay at the orphanage rather than a hospital. Your reasoning is that it would make more sense to die in a place of love.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: This oneshot is sooooo old omg

I remember first writing this when I was in like 6th grade on wattpad! I had a whole death note oneshot book back then lol. i plan on rewriting more of them in the future >_>

WORD COUNT // 3,061 words

The spring breeze consoles your nerves and shaky hands. Your open window permitted the breeze to pass through, which hovered over you, and gave you more comfort and cuddles than your stuffiest blanket ever could. The flowers of spring were your proximate stimulus, displayed not in a sheltered and rancid dwelling nor through a difficult pathway, but instead lingering in an affectionate grass field.

Outside of Wammy's House were the cheerful sounds of children; you could hear them clearly through your window. The sounds of their delight brought a smile and warmth to your face. The scene brings back memories of your adolescence. Being L's successor often made you feel older than you are, and you frequently forget that you're not that archaic. However, compared to those vibrant orphans outside, you were a despondent dinosaur among them.

People behave in that way when they are L's successor after all. Well, perhaps the more appropriate phrase for you at this point is "former successor." Being ill and all, you are now unable to succeed L.

This wasn't detrimental to you in any manner. You never anticipated standing set to proceed L anyway. Regardless, even just being deemed competent in upholding that pinnacle was an honor. In any case, Mello or Near stood a better shot of becoming the new L.

Everyone at the orphanage makes an effort to hide the truth from you or to avoid bringing it up themselves. The truth is that you're running out of time. You'll narrowly outlive L, they say. Yes, you were gravely ill. Yes, you were going to die soon. And yes, you knew all of this. After all, you are not an imbecile, so of course you already knew.

This isn't something you discovered from another or as a result of your intellect or intelligence. You figured this out because, in the end, you were the suffering individual. Each day, you could feel your body failing you, and every day, you were in pain. You don't feel anxious or glum about dying too soon; everyone passes away, and you've given in to that.

Your foreordained death was something no one liked to talk about, except for Near, who found a morbid novelty about your condition.

You and Near have known each other since the beginning, or at least you believe he considers you friends. Although remarkable and the closest thing you'll ever come to...love, Near is a strange person. Regardless, you wouldn't want anyone else; you don't mind that he's your first and only love or even that it's one-sided. You didn't have to confess, there was no need, of course, as Near was already aware.

You appreciate Near's candor about your unwell condition. Everyone here has attempted to keep the facts from you, with the exception of Near. Overall, he has been very blunt about your current state and ailment.

You heard the door creek while staring out the window in a wistful daze. You perk up and whirl to see who had come to visit you, Mello, in his jet-black leather jacket, peaked half his body into your modest room.

"Iris," he voices, before clearing his throat, "-_____, I mean."

Since your diagnosis, you had developed a preference for using your real name rather than your pseudonym. To you, your alias stood for a life that is no longer fitting or accurate. And as for your general safeness using it, well, at this juncture, it didn't matter.

When you two locked eyes, you beamed at his face. Months had passed since you last saw your beloved Mello. It didn't matter that he was wearing a dissimilar set of clothes or the burn that scarred the bulk of his face, he was still the same boy you had grown up with. With chocolate stains on the corner of his lips, you bet. The thought brought delight to your heart. He has been out there in the world investigating the contentious Kira, likely putting himself and others in danger, though if you knew him as well as you thought, you can guarantee he didn't mind the risk at all.

Your smile screamed home in Mello's mind, and lured the blond further inside the room like a siren's song, shutting the door behind him.

You scooched further back on your bed till you hit the headboard, drawing him to sit at the end of your bed, which he did, making it bounce scarcely as he sat.

The subsequent silence wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. Until Mello broke the silence, as he always did, you preferred to continue examining him and observing him without speaking. Now that he's closer to you, you notice that his hair was a little longer, and his neck was bruised the color of plums, you didn't want to know the origin. Near the corner of his lip was stained chocolate, which made you grin. You peer down at your lap to attempt to hide your merriment till you catch how calloused his hands were.

When you look up from his hands, you catch Mello just staring at your face as you did him, then your neck, then your form concealed under the white nightgown you wore, taking it all in, and you knew he was realizing the same thoughts as you: you both had grown up.

Mello sighed at how colorless you were in the face. It crushed him to see how ill you had become since his last visit.

Mello makes small conversation to mask his exhale. "It's odd saying your name, you know?" he chuckled to himself.

Mello was the opposite of Near; they were in many aspects. Similarly, like everyone else, he detested considering or even bringing up the topic of your illness. Furthermore, he had no desire to undermine your health. You were not bothered by his behavior because he was more devastated by the reality of your circumstances than you were.

You and Mello have also known each other since the beginning, and unlike Near, you could openly read Mello like a book. You would say you knew his thoughts as clearly as you did yours. You were aware from the outset that Mello had a romantic interest in you.

Even though he made it crystal plain and obvious since you were all kids, you never experienced a romantic spark with him. He was always aware of the one-sidedness of his emotions.

"Should I call you by yours? To even the playing fields?" you proposed.

A grin spread on his face. "Only if you whispered it in my ear," he toyed. "If you are going to say that name, then only I should hear it, after all."

Mello was an exceptional guy, and he is your most beloved friend. Years have passed and you hoped that you both were mature enough to have now moved on from that phase of your friendship, you'd hate to hurt him.

"How have you been, Mello? Having fun, I assume?"

Mello shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't describe it as fun," he said. "Yet, overall everything's been alright, though the Kira case has been bloody demanding. Especially with Near constantly getting in my damn way," he mumbles while pouting almost imperceptibly.

You emitted a small laugh. "You and Near's detestation is peculiar!" you blurted. You never grasped why Mello and Near were never amicable. Regardless of you getting along with both of them, they never got along, not even when you were all kids. Due to their one-sided rivalry, you could never hang out with both of them at the same moment without conflict.

Once you started laughing again, Mello couldn't help but smile a little bit. You hide your giggling with your right hand and the sun seemed to shine more brilliantly in the room, and on you.

Then, however, the clouds abruptly materialize, casting a gloomy shadow, and you start coughing in between laughs before hysterically doing so. Mello instinctively starts patting your back to aid you, but you shove him away simply because you don't want to be a burden.

"I-I'm...fine," you reassure in a small voice. You reach for a tissue on your nightstand as your cough subsides, but Mello grabs it for you. Grudgingly, you thanked him and accepted the tissue, wiping your mouth.

Blood stained the cotton when you removed it from your mouth. You instinctively tuck it within your fist in the hopes that Mello won't notice.

Mello looked down at his lap. "How have you been, _____?"

You scrunched your brows. "I...haven't been able to sleep, lately," you admit. "Near says it's a symptom in the ending stages of my condition," you added, dropping the tissue into the trash bin on your bedside.

You should've known better than let those words slip out, 'cause, with the mention of Near, Mello visibly flushed and his fist locked.

"Iris..." he scowled, "_____. You're gonna be alright, okay?" he reassured. You could tell he was saying it more for himself because there was no reason for him to tell you this, you already didn't have any childish hope to give. You were one of Mello's closest friends and a one-sided lover, and he didn't want to think you were about to pass away. How could that bloke Near just make your dread worse when you can do nothing about it?

Mello voiced this. "You're already going through a rough time. How can that white-haired bastard tell you that?" he growled, gazing back at the door as if Near was there. You reasoned that Mello might be able to picture Near's mocking white form standing at the door.

Mello stomped to your door from your bed without saying anything and with a grimace on his face.

From your bed, you watched helplessly as he slammed the door behind himself and stomped through the hallway. As soon as Mello enters Rogers' office, you can clearly anticipate what will happen.

You withered. "Mihael..." you whispered; yet, no one heard.

The wooden desk in front of Mello was struck by his hands, driving it to squeak and tremble like a hurricane on his legs.

Mello scowled at the older man. "We're not trying hard enough!!" he exclaimed. His rebellious fist trembled and bounced, they were a clear indication of his emotions and mental state at the moment.

There was cozy lighting throughout the room. Dark curtains were draped over the windows, and the blinds were sealed. Giving the older man and two orphans proper privacy. Today was a reunion of sorts, yet you were missing, and instead, you were the case of discussion and irritation.

Amid the dispute, Near worked on his blank puzzle while seated on the antique couch, crouched over the table. He deadpanned, "Do you have an additional lung to share, Mello? I'm quite tired of you passing the blame.”

With a nasty glare on his face, Mello glanced over his shoulder at the boy. "Near, if I DID, she would have had it by now," he said through clenched teeth. "I care about her passing, unlike you. I'm surprised she even likes you. You act like you don't even care that she's dying, you bastard!"

"Quit making everything so personal, Mello," Near stated. He twirled his white hair as he glanced up at Mello. Mello had a poor tendency to always invest all of his emotions in things even when they weren't linked, which is what he's doing right now. Near could see that habit plainly.

"You're clearly more resentful that she doesn't share the same affection for you as she does for me. Please abstain from bearing grudges that have nothing to do with the circumstances, Mello," Near suggested.

Mello had moon-sized eyes and a heated face. In a rage, he gritted his teeth. "W-Why you-"

"Mello, Near, that's enough," Roger says sternly, standing up from his desk chair. Abruptly, the tension in the room burst like a water balloon with the sound of Rogers's voice, drawing the attention of both of the young men to him. He said nothing more because he was at a loss for words to comfort Mello.

The first to speak up was Mello. He shook his fist as he spoke. "I want her...fixed. I don't want her sick anymore, and for her, I'll do this shit myself. As always!" Mello barked, his voice shaking. He stopped speaking after saying and walked towards the door, the door then slammed clumsily behind him as he quickly leaves the orphanage.

With his back to the door, Near refocused on his puzzle. "Whatever makes you feel better, Mello," he uttered.

The room is silent for a minute as Near continues to solve the puzzle. After he completes it, he calls out to the man.

"Rogers?" he says, whirling a strand of his wintry hair while marveling at the emptiness of his colorless puzzle.

Rogers sighs from Mello's outburst. "Yes Near?" he acknowledged, restoring the misplaced items on his desk as a result of Mello.

"There won't be a donor in time, will there? Near asks, expressionless. As he disassembles the puzzle, each piece is placed in a box.

"...You already know the answer, Near," Rogers answered, sorrowfully. He sighs and closes his eyes. Rogers watched you develop into a young woman, and he finds it hard to accept that your life is being stolen. The girl he reared, the one who never frowned, was imprisoned in a room that now acted as a cell, with that notable smile, still watching over the other children who slowly grow to forget you. No remorse or pity for yourself, either, just pure acceptance. Few people who have lived longer than you feel as at ease with death and bearing of it as you have.

The boy doesn't confirm. With the puzzle box in hand, Near instead gets to his feet and silently leaves the office.

"Iris," Near calls out to you. "Why don't you go to the hospital? You should be there rather than at the orphanage?" he asked, intently. He sat on the floor with his back against your bed, his back facing you.

Mello did not come back as you had expected. He left without saying goodbye to you. Cynically, you wonder if you'll even have time for him to visit again because you knew he'd be apologetic when he returned. When he allowed his emotions to overwhelm him, he was always ashamed.

As you answered, you fixed your gaze on his back. "I don't like hospitals. They reek of death and despair," you explained, reaching for your cup of water on your nightstand.

You set your cup back on the nightstand after drinking some water to clear your thoughts before proceeding. “I'd rather die in a place full of tenderness than a place full of cessation."

"Hm, I see," he murmurs. "And do you believe you are going to die, Iris?" He asks, impassively, twirling his wavy locks.

You sigh as you sink even deeper into your pillow. "Near, I am at the ending stages of my conditions, and nowhere near the top of the list for a transplant. Regardless, it's going to transpire sooner or later."

He does not respond and instead stops twirling his hair. Rather then responding, he kept piling his large dice into buildings. You smile as you watch him. He does not change at all and that fact comforted you. You cast a somber glance at the ground below from remembrance.

“Near, please use my true name instead of my pseudonym from now on, all until the day I die," you requested.

Near nodded. "Okay."

The sound of his dice falling repeatedly could be heard as you two sat in complete stillness. When you're together, you may merely relax in quiet conversation. There are no necessary words to enjoy each other's calm companionship.

"Near, are you afraid of death?" you asked, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling.

"No," he answers.

The wind howled outside and pushed the curtains to flow in obscure directions in the room. It was ignored between you and Near.

"The sentiment of not knowing what will transpire when I'm not here is what I'm more fearful of," you admit. Although it was said that you were melancholy as your life came to an end, you didn't perceive it that way. You understood this to mean that while you were accepting your reality, everyone else was not. However, Near didn't make you feel absurd.

Near maintains silence while listening to you. To be honest, Near doesn't have much to say—at least not anything significant.

Raindrops flickered into the room from outside the window as they paddled onto the ground. Outside the window, you can see the kids hurrying inside as the rain started ferociously pouring onto the fields.

You sighed, "I'm worried for Mello; I don't know how he'll react after my death; he already has a lot going on with Matt, the mafia, and the Kira case." You hated to be another burden on his cluttered plate.

"He would allow his sentiments to get the better of him," Near predicted. He then set the last dice on the top before making the tower fall all over again. "It's quite effortless to predict Mello," he claimed.

You nodded. "I'm sure he will, though, what would you do after I die, Near?" you wondered out loud; not anticipating a literal response. However, to your wonder, Near answered.

"Continue to investigate the Kira case," he said.

The Kira Phenomenal. It was covered extensively in the press, both in Asia and internationally. Kira was a difficult foe who presented more questions than possible answers. A case that could not solely be solved with just logic. The incident that killed L.

"Why are you here anyway? You should be working the case and not frittering your time here," you inform him.

Near twirled his locks. "I...think more reasonably when I'm with you, _____," he confesses before repeating the process of piling his dice. As long as the rain outside falls, the dice tower will continue to crumble.

Hearing him call you by your true name and say something so delightful makes you beam. For him, it was uncommon, so you cherished it.

"I'm also at peace when I'm with you, Near. So...I'm not as afraid of the aftermath of death when you're still here."

"Perhaps...you're sentimentally cynical," Near said.

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underscar · 1 year

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DETERMINATION

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa/Female Reader

Summary: Visibly ghost-gray clouds scattered the mint-blue sky viciously, aimlessly. The poetic sky accompanied the three devil hunters on their journey to a familiar hospital. Once more, Himeno and Aki pay a visit to you, their mutual buddy who has yet again found yourself in the hospital. Despite the fact that everyone in the profession at some point gets themselves injured, they all jokingly claim you, specifically, have luck on your side. But now when you are close to the edge of death once more, Aki begins to suspect that you're deliberately attempting to die.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

WORD COUNT // 3716 words

The sky had a solemn look to it. Visibly ghost-gray clouds scattered the mint-blue sky viciously, aimlessly. On the inside, the beyond heavens were sedately containing the storm within itself, until it was time to allow the chaos to scatter. However, as of now, it stayed determined, and it showed greatly. The poetic sky accompanied three devil hunters on their journey to a familiar, local hospital.

The hospital was grand and rugged, cheap and timid. A place suited for most devil hunters to reside in when the career took a strike back at them like a hungry dog and a brash owner.

With a pip in her step, Himeno found herself leading the way like a pact leader through the hospital's disturbingly white walls. She made conversation, and smiled mischievously, with her head high. Most people when entering this hospital designed for devil-hunters' unique injuries weren’t as chipper as Himeno. Screams of sorrow and rigid cries tended to often fill these hallways. Himeno showed no worry for the one she was visiting with little her crew today.

Aki had a stoic expression as he followed beside his partner, almost unreadable. He had a bit on his mind and didn’t contribute to the conversation Himeno led, too concerned for your newfound injuries that he was yet to see. You and Himeno had known each other long before he became her buddy. Himeno was the one who introduced the two of you a few years back. Aki was intimidated by your beauty and resistance the first day he met you.

Back then he was only focused on his goal to hunt and punish the Gun Devil for their cruel actions and existence. Not to say he wasn't as determined as he was now, but it was his only priority when becoming a devil hunter. Himeno opened his eyes to friendship, and meeting you opened his eyes to childish work-romance inside of Tokyo Special Division 4.

Himeno stretched her arms over her head. “I heard she found a gun fragment this fight,” Himeno stated offhandedly, mostly talking to the new recruit Hirokazu who offered to accompany Aki and her on their visit. She brought her arms down and held her chin up comfortably as they walked through the hospital’s spacious walls. “‘Tis her third one,” she added. She side-eyes Aki as she says this, searching for a reaction that he didn’t give.

Hirokazu responds instead, his dark eyes expanding to the size of plates. “Three?! And she doesn’t have a partner?” Amazement embodied his voice. Hirokazu has never met you but has heard of you from one mouth to another.

You’re quite impressive, he would say. This is why he decided to accompany his colleagues to the hospital you’re stationed at, in the hopes of meeting you.

Hands in her pocket, her fingers playfully flicking the pack of cigarettes residing inside, Himeno smiles cheekily. “Yep. She doesn’t work in buddy teams well,” she noted.

You and Himeno have been buddies since you and she were noobies in the field. You both were trained together. Additionally, you’re one of few acquaintances that have managed to survive this long. Himeno is amazed you specifically haven’t died yet.

When you both first met during training you were an obvious prodigy in the field. Your only weaknesses were that you were reckless in battle and not cooperative with partners, not even people you enjoy accompanying. It’s as if when fighting you change into an entirely different person. Aki added a snarky comment to Himeno's statement. “While she’s the one who needs a partner the most,” he uttered. He hasn’t known you as long as Himeno, but he’s known you long enough to call your bullshit, bullshit.

Himeno shrugged, a lazy grin still present on her face. “Hey, she gets the job done, eh? But does she have amazing luck huh? Coming so close to death so many times.”

Her statement puzzles Hirokazu as he follows behind the two experienced devil-hunters like a lost puppy.

“Don’t we all? As devil-hunters?”

All devil hunters encounter near-death experiences at least twice a week. Most met with death itself. He didn’t understand why you were any different.

Aki didn’t bother to respond while Himeno scoffed. “She’s different enough for us to point it out. All of her battle injuries have come close to killing her and she still somehow survives by a thread.”

Himeno continues, recalling an example. “I remember how she was this close to becoming permanently paralyzed a few months ago. Though she got lucky, yet again.”

The three devil hunters simultaneously stop in their tracks in front of a door. “Right, Aki?” She shoved the man. His eyes pierced the closed door they stood in front of. Hirokazu waited anxiously for a response from Aki.

Aki didn't’ respond for a second, then another second. He honestly didn't know what to say about your life status. Aki made no effort to physically react to Himeno’s strong words on your injuries. He sighed and stared onward.

“Death’s scared of her,” he stated.

Despite it sounding a tad dramatic, It was as if death was avoiding you. Many younger devil hunters think it’s amazing how lucky you are. What Aki knows though, is that death isn’t going to avoid you forever. It’s only taking its sweet time before unexpectedly shanking you in the back.

Himeno smirked at his wording. “Exactly! Though, I’m not so sure about this time,” she muttered while opening the door wide for the two men to enter.

The sight of you was quite the twist and turn.

The doors breezily opened and you were welcomed to the sight of your two best buddies. Their faces make your lips curl into a beaming smile that conquered Aki’s heart from the very beginning.

“Aki! Himeno! Thanks for visiting me, my poor heart is now filled with riches!” The two men stared at your vast injuries, old and new. Your sun-like energy was the opposite of your tattered body. Your hanged leg was in a cast, this being the fifth time Aki could remember seeing one of your legs broken. Your thighs had old claw scars along with recent ones around the entirety of your body. The other leg was bandaged passionately, along with your sore rib cage.

Outside the blaring window was the wicked-gray cloud that followed them here, warning them of the sight of you. Tree branches flew with the thunderous winds, bumping against the window that didn't allow the light of sunlight to seep through. Your bright personality, despite your situation, made the hospital room littered with flowers and balloons, flourish.

Most were uncomfortable with the scars on you. Others found it sickening that a woman like you was inflicted with injuries like that, but to Aki, it didn't matter. Despite being more scarred than you were the day he met you, you still had that feature he fell in love with. Your resistance and determination. He didn’t know what kept that glint of determination in your eye, what kept you going, or even why you were such a risk-taking devil hunter. He doesn't know much about your reasoning in life and what makes all the pain you feel worth it. He wanted to know you like you know him. Aki didn’t care that you had a rapid number of scars on your body. To him, you were an overly attractive woman, that he desired.

He and Hirokazu stood behind Himeno, who easily disregarded your injuries, as you two spoke. “‘Course we did, bud! We came as soon as we could. How are ya feeling?”

You stretched your back and whined. “Swollen to put it simply,” you said. “Kinda like faith’s bullying me,” you jested. You honestly didn’t know how to explain the sensation you were feeling. Pain was something you were now very used to. If anyone were to ask you to put your pain level on a scale of 1-10 you’d have some trouble. You moved your attention to the man in the back, waving at him ahead of you. “Nice to see you again Aki, it’s been a while huh? Like a few months, eh?” Himeno situated herself on your bed, making your resting leg painfully shiver a bit.

Aki and the new guy next to him closed the door behind themselves. You smiled at him. “Feel like we only see one another when I’m beaten down. Maybe we should all get a drink when I’m outta here. You too new guy!”

Hirokazu or the ‘new guy’ stuttered and agreed. He and Aki walked further into the room, dodging the vast amount of balloons and ‘get well soon’ gifts you had. You were quite popular in your division, even in other divisions outside of yours due to your cheery attitude. Your small family also was still a part of your life.

Aki's hands were placed in his slacks pockets, he stared at you like a disappointed father. “If you keep this up you’re not gonna celebrate a new year,” he sighed.

You lean back into your bed, resting your aching back. “You sound like my nagging mom! Kidding. What can I say, I’m a sucker for pain,” you wrote off. You pointed at the roof, pretending as if you had something in your hand. “I got that fragment though!” you cheered.

Himeno honestly could never understand how you kept this positive vibe. Seeing your job as a game of sorts. No wonder Aki liked you, she thought. Himeno wasn't jealous of you, well, to a degree. Mostly, because you’re such a good friend, and she would hate to lose both you and Aki. Even if you both got together like Aki possibly dreamed of, she would be happy that you’re both happy. Happy that she still had you both in her life. She shook her thoughts off and smiled teasingly at you. “If you keep this up you’ll lose that second kidney of yours,” she teased.

You rest your head on your pillow, and your back starts to feel stiffer. You rest your hand on your stomach. “Haha! Maybe? The Claw Devil sure enjoyed chowing down my other one, eh? If I lose this one I won’t have any kidneys!” You chuckled and Himeno laughed while Aki internally sighed at your disregard.

Hirokazu finally spoke instead of standing there awkwardly. “You only have one kidney?” You nodded.

“Lost the other in a contract. My family thinks I donated it,” you briefly explain. “I got lucky! It really felt like dying this time haha!”

Lucky. Aki has never despised a word more than ‘lucky.’ How can you say you got lucky when you’re stuck in such a dreadful place and in pain? How can people say he was lucky to survive when everyone he had died? In this world, there’s no such thing as luck if you lose something in the process. That’s not luck.

“Enough,” Aki stated, his voice holding a warning. He was tired of hearing you go-lucky catchphrases. He’s tired of you saying how lucky you are as if you’ll just be alright. Yeah, you’re alive but what about your injuries? They won’t heal every time, maybe next time your body will refuse to heal you.

Everyone stared at Aki, thinking he was going to say something further, maybe an explanation as to why he’s been so grumpy today, but he didn't. “Aki, are you alright? I’m the one in the cast here!”

Your teasing smile makes Aki turn away, a frown littered on his face. “I’m fine. Just worried,” he muttered.

Himeno breaks the silence. “Well, we’re all rooting for your recovery! Just know that, bud!” You smiled at her words. “Aw, thanks for visiting guys. It really means a lot,” you beamed. You point at the spiky-haired guy. “You too…actually, just realized I never gotcha name, new guy,” you chuckled awkwardly.

He bows politely. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Hirokazu Arai. I work in division four with Hayakawa and Himeno,” he stated. Hirokazu understood now why you were so popular, you were so inviting and cheerful. He could get used to being greeted by your energy every day.

You nodded. “Hirokazu Arai, I’ll remember that! Oh and Makima’s little squad. Then we definitely should go out drinking soon! It’s been forever since I saw the others from that division,” you note.

Himeno stands as you point at her. “Himeno, make sure to invite me whenever y’all go out drinkin'.’'

She gives you a thumbs up. “I’ll make sure of that,” she promises before bringing Aki into a sudden side hug. “And if I forget, I’m sure Aki will remember! You always do remember to invite _____,” she teased.

Aki shifted his gaze. “You just always forget,” he groaned.

“Well whoever it will be, invite me next time! I’m only a phone call away, buds.”

Himeno removes herself from the hug and places her hands on her hips. “Noted. We should get going. We’ll visit you again when we can, kay?”

If you had things your way you would keep them here forever, but you understood that they couldn't stay forever. You’re no child after all. You sigh disappointingly “Hate to see you guys go, but love to watch ya leave! I wouldn't want to keep you in this dreadful hospital anyway. See you guys!” You wave them off as they exit. Himeno smiles and gives you a back wave as she exits your room. “Cya bud!” As the door proceeded to close, you shout. “Next time you visit, don't forget to bring a gift!”

The skies had cleared themselves, and light, sprinkles of rain pampered the ground. Faint sunlight avoids your room, somehow making you feel more exhausted. You hated hospitals despite being resided in so many in your career as a devil hunter. In general, you hated just sitting on your ass and not working, not doing anything. Your grandfather used to say that the longer the rest, the fewer results. You had unfortunately inherited that thinking.

It had been a day or two since Himeno, Aki, and Hirokazu visited. Your mother had face-timed you last night, but you had yet to get any visitors this morning. All you did was stare at the dripping rain through the windows. How you wished you could feel the rain peddle down your skin right about now. To feel anything, honestly. The medicine they got you to put on to numb the pain dulled you in a turtle's shell. You swing your hanged leg simultaneously to the tree branch that blew with the wind outside.

Your swinging comes to a stop once you hear footsteps. You turned your gaze to the door, hoping, begging that whoever was walking the hallways this early was here to visit you. You wondered who it was like a child on Christmas, guessing their gift. The anticipation was the true thing that was killing you as you observed the silhouette outside the window of your door, not being able to see them fully. Them just standing there frustrated you. “Damn it, open the door,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip.

Thankfully, the handle curved and the door opened to reveal a surprising visitor. “Aki! I honestly expected to see Himeno turn that corner,” you admitted. Your lips curled into a smile at the sight of him. You weren't hoping he would visit you today, but damn, you were elated it was him visiting you today.

“Well, it’s me. I brought you a gift,” he responded, closing the door and walking towards your bed. In his hand was a basket filled with colorful fruit with deep blue flowers. Consider yourself charmed. He places the basket on your lap gently, watching your reaction to make sure he wasn't hurting you. He was instead blessed with the sight of you staring into his eyes so lovingly, so beautifully.

“Aw, you remembered! Let me note that you have a better memory than Himeno,” you chuckled. You wrapped the basket in your arms. Doting it. “Thank you, Aki,” you say. You pull back and admire the basket. “I really appreciate it.”

He sits at the edge of your bed, rubbing his face in the hopes of erasing the blush overwhelming him. “There’s something I need to talk to you about _____,” he states, clearing his throat. You move your gaze from his loving gift and to his face.

You observed his face before responding. He had a fading blush, and his eyes avoided making contact with yours. The rain hitting the concrete outside held the silence. You shrug. “Kay. So what? Ready to confess your feelings for me?”

Aki groans. You’ve always known about Aki’s interest in you, though the discovery wasn’t anything special. As Aki didn’t try to hide it, he didn't want you not to know. What he did not want was for you to feel pressured about his feelings for you, so he avoided the topic. You grinned, but deep down you had a feeling this talk isn't anything sweet like a confession. Aki sits on the edge of the hospital bed, not yet making eye contact with you.

“No,” he denied bluntly. “I’m worried about you,” he repeated from yesterday. He brought his gaze to you, finding your gaze on him already. A staring contest was held before you replied.

“You said this, and I appreciate the care, Aki.” You pluck off a grape from the basket and flip it into your mouth. “What? You’re going to tell me to quit? Move to another division? What could it be?” you taunted, getting annoyed. You had enough lectures from your family about your work and pursuing another safer career than to hear another one from Aki. He was starting to sound like a nagging mom. Your playful tone tells him to back off.

Though, Aki is determined. He’s determined to tell you just how he feels. His gaze was on your face and he searched it like it was a map. Your face has bandages and faded scars residing on it, your eyes had so much life. So much life.

You glared back at his face when you noticed Aki’s eyes. Your mind gets distracted from the annoyance you feel, from how beautiful his eyes were, and how soft and caring they looked. And the craziest thing is, that he's looking this way at you. “Are you okay?” he asks you after staring into your eyes.

His question confused you. You shrugged. “I’m still alive aren’t I?” Aki’s eyes never left yours, and not being one to back down, yours never left his.

He sighs. “Are you trying to die? Is what I’m asking,” he surmised.

You didn’t know what to say in response, hell, what do you say? No? Did he even want you to respond, did you even know?

He notices your shift, and continues, grabbing your rough hand. When his hand touches yours, you feel a thousand things flutter. But one thing you felt…was the rain on his hand. Which makes you curl your hand in his. “This has gone on for a long time _____” he stated, he appreciates the feeling of your hand in his, and instinctively, he wants to protect it.

He squeezes your hand, you appreciate the warmth. Technically he wasn't wrong. Every path you’ve faced in your life you’ve taken the risky option. It has just happened to always be the best choice for your goal. A goal that has blurred throughout the years, that has overlapped. You exhale as you look away from Aki’s concerned eyes. He places his other hand on top of your entangled ones, leaning closer to you.

“Look at yourself. You fight as if you’re trying to die. I’m concerned you're not well enough to make decisions that’ll affect your life,” he explained.

You turned away, your cheerful demeanor from before disappearing. Your mouth was a slanted line, eyes no longer on the male you’re fond of. Who gave him the right to judge you when he’s always worrying about you? He wants to die trying to kill the Gun Devil, well you're willing to die for your goal too. However, you understand why he’d be worried. It’s nice, having someone worry for you.”

You call out his name. Your eyes held a determined look, a noticeable shift in your bashful behavior from before. “I am determined to live,” you declare, eyes staring straight into his eyes. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to get killed or die anytime soon. There’s one thing I want before I die, and I will achieve it. No matter the risk, I will take it with my head up.” Aki silently listened to you as you had listened to his concerns. “You worry me too. One day you’ll die in your quest for justice. My goal probably isn’t as noble as yours but…it’s very important to me and my grandfather.”

You sighed, looking away from him. You hated being sappy. “I don’t know the reasons behind my actions. So I can’t give you an answer for that, but I can tell you that I have a purpose for being in this career.”

“But thank you anyway, Aki,” you muttered, smiling to yourself. “Thank you for caring for me. That’s one thing I love about you compared to these other devil-hunters nowadays,” you say. With the mention of other devil hunters, your look at the get-well-soon gifts that crowded your hospital room. They didn't mean anything. None of them knew you. But Aki and Himeno meant the world.

There was an awkward silence for a minute before Aki finally did respond. “You’re welcome…?” The silence followed soon after before you burst laughing, the room's solemn mood from earlier fading away.

“What an awkward response, Aki!” You continue laughing, squeezing Aki’s hands in a hug.

He rolled his eyes. He didn't know how to respond to your sincere words. “And how is that?” His question never got a response as you were too busy laughing before falling to your side. Aki never got a response, and you didn’t get a confession that day. And for the first time in that hospital room, the bright sun proclaimed its light through the window and declared it a happy evening.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

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underscar · 1 year

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REMEMBRANCE

Pairing: Denji/Female Reader

Summary: A flowerful breeze breached the pathway onto your over-studied heart, signing you off with a sense of stability. Melodic petals from irresolute trees stayed afloat from the sky and into your trail, trailing each step you tread. Spring had recently begun, which, for you, only meant more studying for the for the flowerful test season. The sun did its job at minimum wage, and the clouds spread and shifted as you continued your steps, walking down the street for a snack after vigorously studying at the library. You find an odd guy getting yelled at for dining and dashing, at your day-to-day food stand, only without the dashing part. You get a warm flush of memories when you see him. A sense of remembrance…for someone you have never met?

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Denji with that awkward rizz.

this is pretty much the last repost from my ao3. gonna be posting some new pieces i’ve been working on soon!!

WORD COUNT // 2182 words

A flowerful breeze breached the pathway onto your over-studied heart, signing you off with a sense of stability. Melodic petals from irresolute trees stayed afloat from the sky and into your trail, trailing each step you tread. Spring had recently begun, which, for you, only meant more studying for the flowerful test season.

Always hunched in a workbook. Pen and pencil in hand, tidy notes, and even neater grades. And with this, you, for one, considered yourself a ”schoolholic.” Much like how every student had a club that stirred their interest, you never thought of this as being strange; rather, you simply thought of school as your hobby, which you enjoyed.

You particularly loved the sense of pride you experienced after passing a test. Since you first started school, which was forever ago, you always had that exhilarating sensation of seeing an outstanding score beside your name on everything from weekly quizzes to national exams.

Many said you had gotten that trait from your “workaholic” father, you both being the same in that sense. Well, you wouldn't say that they were entirely mistaken. You were his daughter after all. He also didn't have any hobbies; instead, he made his job his hobby and damn sure gave it his all. Him getting that similar feeling of achievement as you with whatever promotion or raise he receives.

You both found the bliss addicting.

In a world full of evils and devils, you and your father focused on positive things in a world. Depending on these hobbies to satisfy yourselves; yet, loneliness seemed to still creep in. And in these moments of time, you both were normally there to comfort one another. The need between you and your father was always impactful. Particularly lately, given that he has been buried alive in his current work project and hasn't been coming home much. Leaving you alone in the house. You didn't mind because you only saw this as a chance to cram for your upcoming exams.

You stopped in place; standing in the middle of the sidewalk. An itch or scratch shook your senses. The wind howled harder as you searched for this ick. The current driving your scarf into obscure directions.

It was a meek day. The sun did its job at minimum wage and the clouds partly spread and shifted. After your routine five hours, no breaks, studying plan, you had gotten to the point of intensity that the librarian kicked you out, lecturing you to take a break like the other kids. And when exiting the building, you found yourself craving some junk food.

You remove a leaf that flew its way between your scarf and ultimately neck; the cause of your itch. You dropped the orange leaf, but before it could hit the ground, it flew along with the cooling breeze.

You puffed your scarf before continuing your steps, walking down the street toward your favorite food stand. Luckily, you still had money left over from the last time your dad gave you your allowance weeks ago.

With a step a kick's length, you found yourself passing through a variety of vendors, old and new; fresh and fit. This street was filled with vendors selling their delicious goods. Your eyes searched for your favorite stand that sold bags of cheesy nachos for cheap. The truck mostly sold baggy food, otherwise food for people who will be walking and wanted something to snack on. You enjoyed the food and talking to the owner.

The meek breeze from before picked up its pace and mixed the air with a smell of hot food, making you speed like a hog, book bag strapped to your back tightly, wallet in hand. In under a few minutes of walking you find the colorful truck you were searching for in sight. Thankfully there wasn’t a long line, except for one person your eyes picked up from the distance.

The closer you got the more features you got. Insight, you find a boy maybe a year or so younger than you, with scruffy hair that dimmed in the warm setting sunlight, standing in front of the mentioned food stand. He wore a uniform of some kind, well, not really. Just a button-up, tie, and slacks, all messily done to point out.

The voice of the owner yelling shook your eardrums, now standing no more than five feet from the truck you could actually hear what they were saying, and could tell that they were very angry. However, the boy stood there, mindlessly listening to the older males behind the stand angrily shouting at the boy who was lost in a daze and did not pay any mind to his situation.

Normally you never put yourself in anyone else's business. Mr. Kawasaki tends to never get upset or angry at a customer unless someone was trying to dine and dash him. But you felt bad for the guy, he looked tired and confused. It was test season so he probably over-studied like you, though very unlikely. Well, you just like to believe there are people like you out there. Why not think that?

You cup your cheek and shout, picking up your pace. "No worries!”

At your voice the boy seemed to break out of his daze and turned around, finding you there, making eye contact, showcasing his deep brown eyes.

You moved your gaze to Mr. Kawasaki’s confused gaze then back to the boy's eyes, back and forth. “Um, I'll pay for you," you ease, smiling at the dazed boy. When you stared into his eyes, despite it being the first time, you felt a recollection of a memory. You felt a comfort near him. You knew him. At least, you felt like you did.

Shaking off this nostalgia, you lower your book bag from your back and begin removing your colorful wallet despite the protest of Mr. Kawasaki.

As you requested the price the guy owed and began counting up your cash, Denji stared silently. Admiring you. He watched as you paid for Power's snack.

While out with that vile fiend he got paired with, she ran off and ended up ordering food she wasn’t planning on paying for, before ditching him with her tab. Denji could have just left at this point, you seemed to have it under control. He liked that.

You were calm, a little awkward but most importantly, cute overall. It was mostly the school uniform you wore he found cute, maybe it was your squiggly smile, or just the fact that you were a nice girl. For a minute the world seemed to quiet down for you two. The booming crowd and mean man disappeared also, it was just you and him, the setting sun in the background, unforgettable.

You spoke animatedly while placing your cash onto the wooden counter, lightly laughing at whatever the old guy said. Denji couldn't really hear a thing, he only awkwardly stood in place. The crowd drew back in and the pressure of the wind blew through his hair. Denji recognized this feeling in his heart, this heat in his mind, this haze behind his eye, and hell was he pissed!

Was this…love? Was he yet again blessed to meet another girl, a possible girlfriend? He unconsciously grabs his chest, feeling for his chainsaw cord, for comfort. Godammit, he shouldn't be falling in love with every girl he meets! His mouth quivered as his thoughts continued. But you're such a cute and nice girl. You're paying for Powers, but to your knowledge, his food even though he's just a mere stranger. Hell, Denji knows he wouldn't have.

Before he knew it the older man was gone, and you turned to him, beginning to place your book bag back on. While doing so a few pencils, pens, and sticky notes begin to fall out from the pocket you forgot to zip. You mutter a curse as you squat down to grab them all. Denji yet again didn’t say anything, why was he still here anyway?! He had to do something or else he’ll look like a total dork.

You place all your supplies back into your front pocket and zip them up before placing your bag on your back yet again. “Sorry ‘bout that!” Your lips quirk up for a second, smiling at him.

Denji stuttered incoherently, moving his gaze to the cracked sidewalk, while staring at the ground awkwardly his eyes picked up a black market on the ground, you must have forgotten it. Abruptly, he crouches and grabs the market, pushing it into your open hands.

“YOU FORGOT THIS ONE!” he wailed.

Okay, this guy is weird, you thought. However, he had this familiar boyish charm that lightened your heart. You smile, biting the inside of your cheek. You grip the marker from his sweaty palm, placing it on your ear. “Thanks. So...what happened?" you ask, motioning to the food stand.

“Uhhhhhh,” Denji rubbed his already messy hair, "my friend left me to pay..." he explains, his voice so tiny he's surprised you heard his response.

You pout, shifting your weight. "Aww that sucks, they must be, uh, quite the friend." You try not to say anything mean since you both are strangers but, in your opinion, that was a horrible friend, but again you didn't want to sound rude.

He unsurely nods. "Yeah, she is quite the friend?" he repeats, watching you. In his head he was thinking: what does ‘quite’ mean? Does it mean rude, stupid, loud friend? If so, that is exactly what Power would be to him.

Standing in front of him, that weird sense of nostalgia still wouldn’t go away. A river flow of clouded memories drowned your head. As Denji stared into space you pointed a finger at him. "Didn't we go to kindergarten together?"

Denji opens and closes his mouth, tilting his head. "No, I never went to school," he replies, honestly. Instantly he felt like he damned himself. Did he know you? He didn't recognize you one bit! His childhood was mostly a repeated day on a loop so most things he didn’t remember anyway.

However, he couldn’t place you in any memories, how would someone like you have ever gotten involved in his life anyway. Plus, no way he'd forgot meeting a girl as cute as you! Though, no matter how much he poked his brain nothing came!

"That's so strange," you mutter before becoming a stuttering bomb, "n-not you not going to school, which is sorta strange but it's just that I feel like I've met you before."

Denji wasn’t sure if this was you flirting with him or something, but he was overall just confused. He shakes his head and erratically gives you his hand to shake. "Well, I'm Denji!”

You thought that it was possible you both had met but logically, you didn’t recognize his name one bit. You look back into his face, observing his boyish features. When you look at him, he looks so recognizable; with such a harsh sense of remembrance, but you aren't sure when these sudden memories took place anyway.

Denji stared blankly at your extended silence, which makes you jump. "S-Sorry, I'm being weird!" you chuckled.

He shook his head. "You're being cute," he uttered.

You turn away, hoping to hide the smile that was forming on your face. You introduce yourself and tell him your name. "Nice to meet you, Denji-kun.”

Denji's mind goes blank as you unhurriedly shake his hand. Denji for one wondered if ‘kun’ was a nickname thing. It sounded cute and all. "Nice meeting ya too _____-kun!" Denji gleams, still holding your hand.

"That must mean we're meant to meet then right?" he observes. "To make the memories you have real right? I’m not very smart but that sounds reasonable!"

You were stunned for a second. Firstly, he used the male honorific for you. Secondly, you couldn't help but smile at his cute words. Very boyish indeed.

The clouds in the sky were all spread out now. It looks like different shades of orange, pink, and a little turquoise blue cotton candy under the intense light of the setting sun. It's like a scene from those cliché romance movies. It's also like a memory you have in your head, one where you're with him; it was getting late. You really should get home for curfew and to study a bit more.

You leisurely remove your hand from his, smiling down at it. "Yeah, I'd also like for them to eventually come true." You stare back up, earnestly into his young, hopeful eyes. “It was nice to meet you, Denji-kun."

He nodded, rubbing the hand you held like it was a rash. "M-Me too _____-kun." Denji doesn't know what in the hell he meant by those words before, but it felt truthful and nice, just like your smile.

That day, that odd familiar guy you met at the food stand walked back home in the dispersing sun, staring at your phone number scribbled in black marker on his pale, sweaty palm. He was kind of cute too, after all.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

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underscar · 1 year

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DREARY NIGHTS

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro/Female Reader

Summary: Milky puddles of darkness and shadows plaster the empty halls of Jujutsu High. Everyone residing inside the school was under the spell of rest, except Megumi. The "death" of Itadori Yuuji possessed him to remain awake night and day for a week now. Megumi didn't even know why he was so upset about that idiot. He barely knew the kid. But his heart was still heavy. Instead of nightmares, he kept thinking about it all the time. He wandered the halls like a ghost. The last few days, watching you sleep, despite how awkward it may be if he was caught, was therapeutic. This night, in particular, he catches you crying as he peeks into your room, and you sense your boyfriend's pain.

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Trying this tumblr thing again.

Now I gotta repost these oneshots bro 😵‍💫

WORD COUNT // 2764 words

Milky puddles of darkness and shadow plaster the ghost halls of Jujutsu High. The wind howled a solemn sound outside the campus, the melody haunting the dormitory.

Everyone residing inside the school was under the spell of rest, but Megumi, unfortunately, was possessed to stay awake for the last few moons.

He’s been under this curse of no rest for a week now, and his mind didn’t seize him a break. Itadori Yuuji was on his mind, someone he hardly could even call his friend due to how short they had known each other.

Megumi didn’t even know why he was so upset over that idiot anyways, he barely knew the kid. But his heart was still heavy. Just from the few encounters they had spent together, he felt a spark of friendship develops.

He had met Itadori when he was in a state of loneliness and dread. Instead of nightmares, he was stuck with constant, possessive thoughts of the tragic event of Itadori’s death that he witnessed through his bloodied eyes. And because of…this he wandered the halls like an eclipsed spirit.

In the beginning, he was the sole first year, beside you, his girlfriend, at Jujutsu High. Until Itadori showed up. To also add to relevance, recently another student, Nobara Kugisaki, had also shown up soon before Itadori’s unfortunate, and juvenile death. But the side reason he had this hole in his chest, a hole of weighted dread, was because of your lengthy absence.

You had been sent on an internship of sorts a month before the Itadori Yuuji and Sukuna situation. The ‘internship’ was for you to join experienced Jujutsu sorceries on a long-time, long-distance mission outside of Japan.

Somewhere in India, he remembers you telling him. Through your constant text from him while out on this trip, you told him happily how you promoted a grade up due to your helpfulness and proof of development and confidence in your technique. He was proud of you of course, but your success also made him question himself.

Question himself on what he wanted to accomplish, that he was destined to succeed and produce things great like you have so far and young. You were a model student, it probably wasn’t best for him to compare himself.

But he couldn’t help it.

At the beginning of the week, you had come back to the school and unpacked in your dorm. You arrived back at the school right after Itadori’s death was announced and arrived from your trip…to a solemn environment.

Megumi offered to help but you were persistent. He had honestly felt bad for your underwhelming arrival home. He had issues…expressing his emotions for you.

Expressing how happy he was when you walked through the door, how lonely he had been when you were gone. He had desperately desired you. And the first thing that came to his mind when he learned of Itadori's death was your physical comfort. But even when you arrived, he found himself not wanting to speak of his tragedy. He didn’t want to upset you when you arrived home. What Megumi wanted then, was for things to just go back to normal.

Back to just being content with you, and not worrying about other first years or depressing drama. He knew in the back of his mind that you all had to move in cause time and life would not stop to let him cover his feelings.

The Goodwill Event was happening sooner than he would like and all of you had to prepare instead of sitting on your asses with a frown. He knew this…but couldn’t change how he felt, and the lack of motivation in his step.

However, now he’s on a solemn walk that seems to never stop. And a dream that never ends. A headache that builds up like pouring rain, and a young, grievous heart tugging him. What had comforted him on these nights so far, far better than rest could, was watching you mindlessly sleep the night sky away and into a beautiful morning.

Now don’t get him wrong, he knows and acknowledges how creepy it is. Especially if he was caught. But you…just eased his mind, and he needed that, especially now.

Megumi walked the hall, passing spare dorm rooms in the process, barefooted. The carpet scraped his feet, and the moonlight’s flow showered through the connected windows that followed the hallway to the very end.

His steps begin to falter before coming to a slow stop. He stopped in front of a particular room. Reaching for the doorknob to check up on your sleeping figure, he hears a timid hiccup.

His hands flinched away from the knob as if it had shocked his pale hand away. His brows curved. Are you crying? The halls were still, and the silence embodied him in full. He stood as still as a mannequin in front of your dorm door, waiting for an itch of a sound to escape the four walls. One second goes by and no sound emits, then another, and another, just a paused silence.

Megumi was getting anxious. Was he hearing things? He pulled at the loose strings of his grey sweatpants as he waited for a second longer for a noise, a sign of anything that he wasn’t going mad. The string twirled in his hand as he twisted and turned his sweatpants strings knot.

He must’ve been hearing things, he thought as he turned away. Maybe he was going crazy from lack of rest. Before he could think further a hearty sob transmitted through the door and to his ears, making them twitch ever so slightly. He shook his head, causing a tornado to form, and making his dark hair even more disheveled.

"Ah, fuck it.”

He curved the knob, and the door slightly creaked open. He peeked his head inside the dark, but familiar room. Megumi knew your dorm better than he knew his own. The mid-opened closet had various pictures of you and him, some with Satoru and the other second years. It was a bit dusty due to your lack of appearance as of late, so your window was left open, bringing in a melodic light from the moon, and a cool sigh of wind. His eyes shifted onto you, primarily. Moonbeams stained you, and crystallized tears poured from your eyes.

You had yet to notice his sudden appearance, so you continued to cry your song, and drain your tears. The wind shivered the leaves and tree branches outside your window. Megumi wasn’t sure if it was the wind or your presence that was bringing a chill up his spine. Your abrupt sob brings him back to attention.

He scratched the back of his hair before suddenly making his presence known. He calls out your name gently so as not to startle you, causing the tears you allowed to fall on your face to come to a sturdy stop.

You turned to him, processing his appearance. Half his body was peeking in through your opened door. Your eyes were startled like a shocked kitten and they glistened from your tears and twinkled in the moonlight.

Your heart backflipped when you suddenly heard your boyfriend’s voice. Your stifled cries quickly came to stop as you stared from your bed, at your boyfriend of years, gripping your bed comforter.

He questioned you, gently. “Why are you crying?“

You hiccup before responding, wiping your stained face. "It’s nothing to worry about Megumi, I just h-had a bad dream,” you mustered. Subconsciously, you scoot over, making room on your bed for Megumi.

"Oh." He walks in fully, closing the door behind himself. "What about?”

He places his hand in the pockets of his sweats as you stutter, the cause of your tears picking back the pace. “Well, I-It was,” you hiccupped. The dream now was sort of a blur, at this point you didn’t know how long you were crying.

Megumi stood in his spot, in front of where you laid on your bed, hand tense in his pocket, anxiously waiting for your answer. He assumed it was something awful that happened on your mission out of the country, and he felt bad that he hadn’t asked you when you’d first arrived home.

The things you must’ve seen, and the experiences you went through, must’ve been traumatizing.

His eyes narrowed.

And he wasn’t there for you. Megumi looked down at himself. Calling himself a bad boyfriend internally.

You shook your head, tears spilling everywhere on your comforter as you exclaimed the reason for your wave of sadness. The cause of the pain in your heart and dread. Megumi listened. Your voice was higher in pitch, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the entire school had heard you state your ridiculous, depressing, dream.

“It was about Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure!!”

His mouth went dry. “What….?”

His eyebrows curved, and his pine eyes emptied. You’re crying over an anime of all things?

His mind was slowly processing the information as you explained your dream in further detail, wiping the tears forming. “After my internship in India, I rewatched that Stardust Crusaders episode where they traveled to India before bed and I guess I had a dream about it. The character’s death always makes me cry!”

You lean against the wall and your eyes water as you recall the characters that didn’t make it to Diamond Is Unbreakable.

Megumi stared at you, unimpressed. “That’s what you were crying about?“

You whined. "Don’t judge! It was sad, okay!” You reach and dig your hands into his right pocket and pull his hand to hold. Megumi didn’t protest. He still, however, stood in front of your bed while you rested your back against the wall against your bed. The only thing keeping you both connected was your entwined hands in the moonlight.

His hands were so warm, you couldn’t replace them with anything.

Megumi didn’t say anything. You pouted at his disregard of a depressing scene from an anime you loved! You pull on his hand, pulling him closer, making his knee now touch your mattress.

He stared into your eyes, while you stared up into his from your bed. You looked so cute pouting up at him, he thought.

He squeezed your hand, and you soon squeezed back. A wave of calmness crossed you. You stared at Megumi. It was nice to see him again, see him in person. To touch him, and to really comfort him. Especially now, when he needs you the most. Your tone wavered.

“Why are you up anyway, Megumi? Bad dream too?“

Megumi was quiet again. He didn’t even get the chance to dream. He looked away from you, his eyes shifty. You sit up straight and pull him onto the bed beside you. The impact of his fall onto the bed makes it bounce for a second, and now he sits beside you, back against the wall. He was still quiet though. You rubbed the hand you held with your other. Leaning your head on his shoulder, your brows slump down as you stare at his perfect face, trying to read him.

To get him to say something to you. You rested your chin on his shoulder and ask again.

“Megumi? Why are you up anyway?”

Your question wasn’t answered. Instead of an answer or words, he abruptly kisses you, shutting you up also.

You freeze, his lips moved against yours passionately. You squeezed his hand as your eyes fluttered closed, and your heartbeat began to accelerate. You turned your head to the side for a better angle.

As he slowly pulled away, he rested his free hand on your cheek, blush spread on his face like cotton candy.

When your eyelashes fluttered open, his dark green eyes boldly stared back at you, and warmth filled your cheeks and stomach.

However, he still didn’t say anything, but his action spoke louder than any words. You whisper. "Is it about Itadori?”

Megumi sighed and turned away from your eyes. Instead now found your locked hands more of an interesting sight at the moment. A second passes and a breeze comes inside.

After half a minute, his lips begin to move. “I haven’t been able to sleep,” he admits, still staring at your entwined hands.

You look down, biting your bottom lip. nervously. What could you say? You didn’t know Itadori, but you weren’t out of the loop either. Megumi never told you how close he was beginning to feel toward Itadori. You honestly hadn’t witnessed your boyfriend develop a friendship with someone in a very long time. You were told by the second years how it was suspected that the higher-ups got Itadori killed, and you believed them because Satoru didn’t try to dismiss your questions on the rumor.

"I didn’t know Itadori as well as you did, but his death still upsets me,” you sympathized. “I would hate to lose you. I would hate to lose everyone! My parents, friends, teachers, everyone. I wouldn’t be complete without them. Especially without you Megumi, I would be far too upset.” You allowed your heart to spill.

Before you could tear up further, suddenly, Megumi begins to chuckle, rubbing the tense hand he held. "Everything upsets you. Even anime characters’ deaths,” he teased.

He smiled at you. Your eyes soften at his expression. His dark eyes were exhausted and humble. It was dark inside, but the moonbeams on his face made him glow. You smiled back, bopping your nose with him.

You bark at him. "No teasing!” You weakly shove his shoulder. Megumi does his fair share of teasing, he can be stoic at times but anyone who knows him knows he’s more than that. But you like him this way, you love when he allows himself to be vulnerable just for a tiny bit.

Megumi however, liked how you expressed your emotions and thoughts so easily. How it was as easy as breathing for you to admit…that you’d miss him if he died. He loved how much you cared…

You slouch your shoulders. “But seriously Megumi. You can talk to me about anything, you know. I’m always here to listen to you,” you remind him, laying your head back on his shoulder, pouting. Grabbing his hand with the one he isn’t already holding, placing it on top of your entwined hands.

Megumi sighed. He stared straight ahead at the wall in front of your bed. He nodded. "I know,” he said, barely audible. He leans closer to you. For a second there was an eternal silence that stared at the sight of you two.

You snuggled your face further into his shoulder, and soon he ends up just wrapping his arm around you. In return you wrap your arms around his torso, unlinking your hands from his. Your eyes were getting heavy, and your throat was a tad dry but you didn’t want to end Megumi’s embrace.

You look up at his ghostly face. "Do you want to stay the night? And risk Gojō-sensei’s teasing once he catches us. Am I worth that big of a risk?” you teased him.

Satoru had a habit of teasing you both, mostly Megumi, really only a Megumi, from any sign of intimacy you both showed. Rarely did you both do public displays of affection. Not only because of Satoru but he did play a minor role.

You leaned up to sleepily kiss his cheek.

Megumi’s face was content and he didn’t fully react to your kiss. His thoughts were calm for once, and his heart wasn’t as heavy as before. Half of the dread he carried, dispersed. You were so lovely, he thought. Itadori was still on his mind, despite him being blessed to be in your embrace right now.

But for now, he’ll enjoy this moment, and allow himself to feel and accept the pain and remorse he feels for his friend.

He shook his head. “You’re worth every risk.”

You smile lazily at his response. Lack of rest and love behind your clouded eyes. You close them before whispering right into his ear, paralyzing him. “I love you, ‘gumi.” Your weight pulled at his shoulder.

He leaned his head back against the wall, fluffy hair acting as a cushion. He pulled you closer to his warmth, embracing you as lovingly as he could. “I love you too,” he murmured.

“I think…I’ll stay the night,” he whispered. He gazed at you, but you were already fast asleep on his shoulder. The sight eased him to slumber.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#© UNDERSCAR #X FEMALE READER #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jjk x female reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x female reader #megumi x reader

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underscar · 1 year

Text

DRUNK CONFESSIONS

Pairing: Serizawa Katsuya/Female Reader

Summary: As rain sprinkled down from the fuzzy sky, the breeze lazily bristled as it danced throughout the city. Today, the staff of Spirits and Suchs had to get up early to travel as Reigen was contacted for a job outside of the city. With Mob having class, this job consisted of only Serizawa, Reigen, and most significantly, you. He's not sure how long he's been drawn to you. Though, he found it difficult to ignore or obscure his little crush, especially when you’re both alone. And given how close you and Reigen are, it doesn't make things any easier for him. A drink or two should prevent him from embarrassing himself for now.

MOB PSYCHO 100 MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Serizawa and liquor don’t go together…

The debate story is actually a true story from me lol back freshmen year. Oh and also, If this does well enough i may do a part two. So share, reblog, or comment if you like!

WORD COUNT // 3924 words

The wind blew lazily as sprinkles of rain toppled from the beclouded sky, which covered the raw sunlight. Serizawa continued to close his eyes, however, as if the light were shining directly into them. It must be because of the time of day and how exhausted he was. He didn't get much sleep the night before because of his undesirable thoughts about you, a coworker. He has developed a small affection for you.

Even though it was just sprinkling, he stood at the crossing holding his plastic umbrella over his head because he couldn't risk having his suit even slightly ruined by the rain. The possibility that it might be pouring rain by the time you all return is his other justification for bringing an umbrella. Knowing you and Reigen, you both probably forgot. He sighed before crossing the street with the crowd as soon as the light goes green.

Reigen recently got a client request out of Seasoning City. Evidently, this forcing you all to wake up this early to travel. Reigen saw it as best if only the adults came since Mob has been busy with school in general while Tome had school on the day.

Serizawa closed his umbrella and held it close to his hip. He stared at the office door; he could hear you and Reigen talking animatedly inside. He shakily sighed, hoping to get this workday over without embarrassing himself. He always ended up feeling like a fool near you. Some days, he wished he could just speak freely with you like Reigen, but you both have known each other way longer. Serizawa could only hope someone brought coffee as he opened the door.

Your voice welcomes him as he places his umbrella on the door's handle. “Serizawa! You’re the last one to arrive. That’s not normal,” you pointed you. You sat in front of Reigen's desk, where typically potential customers sit to inquire about Spirits & Such Consulting services.

The mentioned man sat at his desk in front of you; Dimple floated nearby. “Was your train late?” Reigen asked before you could.

Serizawa flattens out his navy blue blazer and dim-red tie before taking place on the couch near your chair. “Uh yeah, I had to wait for the second one. I hope I didn’t inconvenience you all,” he stated.

Serizawa missing the second train didn't matter anyway, he always left hours earlier than needed. It’s practically impossible for him to truly be late in fashion; always guaranteed he’ll make it on time. He’s impressively good at time management.

You lean back on your chair and turned to keep your gaze on the man as you suggest. “If you ever need a ride, just ask me! I rarely drive anyway so it gives me an excuse to use the car my dad put so much effort in for me,” you told him, a heartwarming look in your eye.

He turned away even though he wanted to keep eye contact with you. “I’ll...keep that in mind,” he said in a moderate tone. He’s learned to avoid whispering and stuttering. Stuttering is a bit harder to avoid though.

“We should get ready to leave,” Reigen suggested. He switches his gaze to his laptop in front of him. “We’ll be there all day and make it back to Seasoning City by 2 am at the earliest,” he informed you all.

Dimple sighed from his spot; he was a moody spirit in the early mornings. “What exactly was the job anyway?” he said, a frown splattered on his face.

Serizawa silently also wanted to know as he didn’t understand the whole job they were hired for. Though, here comes your job. Serizawa isn’t sure what the official title is but you basically collect all the job information and put it in layman's terms for the employees, which is only three people, to understand. It may be a completely fake job cooked up by Reigen since he wanted an excuse for you and him to work together; but hell, you were good at it nonetheless.

“The client inherited a manor from her great, great grandparents that they abruptly abandoned decades ago without selling. She wanted to turn it into a local hotel. However, she stated she saw maids, butlers, and more resided there,” you explain; soothingly and efficiently.

Reigen proceeds where you ended. “We think they’re the former staff that used to work there. Unfortunately, the client doesn’t know much about her great-grandparents since her family had a strained relationship with them,” he added, crossing his arms.

Dimple jumped in, now not as far from the group as before. “If they’re ghosts that means they must’ve all died in the manor,” he stated.

You lean further back into the chairs as Serizawa gives his input. “It’s odd that they all died near the same time and as the same staff. I could only be assuming though...”

You nod your head in agreement with Serizawa's input. “That’s what I thought. I don’t think her great, great grandparents were so innocent,” you alleged.

Reigen shrugged. “Besides that, the drive will be 6 hours with no stops. We’ll be there by 10 am,” he informed, shutting his laptop and placing it inside its travel case.

Dimple groaned for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. “Sheesh, that’s the entire day, and almost half of that’s from driving,” he complained.

You clap your hands energetically, “Then we should get breakfast first!” you rejoiced. You didn’t get a chance to make a proper breakfast. All you had was a slice of toast like a cliche anime protagonist. "Serizawa should choose! Arataka and I picked the last time we traveled out of town,” you added to the group who didn’t object.

However, Serizawa did, shaking his head apologetically. “I-I don’t have any spare money to pay for food today. Sorry.”

Reigen shrugged. “Don’t fret, I’ll just take it out of your paycheck,” he put out. Though Serizawa, yet again, gently objected and explained his reasoning.

“Actually, I was planning on using this next pay for my mother's birthday...” he explained. You all listened with eyes on him, making him look away from your peering gazes. “Don’t worry, I can pass on food.”

You suddenly clap your hands again, as if your clap is the beginning of the shift of the mood of the room, which isn’t entirely untrue. You somehow were always able to switch the room to a more pleasant vibe after solemn ones. “Of course not, we’re going to be there a long time so you should eat regardless. I’ll pay for Serizawa’s portion of breakfast,” you boldly state, making Serizawa quickly object.

“But--” he started but you continued regardless of his cut-short protest.

“--And...he can pay me back when he can,” you added, courageous eyes staring into his eyes. “Okay?”

Serizawa sighs in defeat. He sometimes forgets how outspoken you and Reigen are. “O-Okay…” he replied.

You beamed. “Tell your mom I said happy birthday too,” you added.

Before the man could respond Dimple speaks up. The room's mood now is desirable again. “I’m not one for food, too much work to digest.”

“Doesn’t matter, it makes it cheaper for all of us if you don’t eat.” Reigen retorted. It wasn't like Dimple ever paid for himself anyway, he thought.

“So, whatcha craving Serizawa?” you asked, a small smile present on your face, making Serizawa silently lost in his thoughts for too long.

So long that Reigen spoke before he could answer. “Well I’m personally down for anything, I just need something to wake me up. I only had toast before leaving the house,” he commented, making you turn to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Me too...are you copying me Arataka?” you jested.

He scoffs in response. “As if I’d use my energy for that!”

As you both banter like middle schoolers, Serizawa finds the strength to speak loud enough to talk over you two and catch your attention. “I kind of wanted some Miso soup,” he stated, you and Reigen were quiet for a second, making the man fearful for a minute. “But I don’t really care, I’d like anything you’d like…” he added. What he truly meant by ‘you’ was just what you wanted but the way he worded made it seem as if he was speaking of everyone.

Though, you could tell by his quick glance at you when he said it, what he truly meant. “That’s sweet, Katsuya,” you murmured, making him feel like a volcano with magma bubbling in his stomach. The way you say his first name, which is already rare, makes him feel so intoxicated.

You make a ‘peace’ sign with your hands. “That’s two for Miso soup! No objection. Arataka?” you implored his opnion.

Reigen responds in a bland tone. “Well even if I did reject I'd lose, but like I said I’m down for anything,” he explained which oddly made you recall a childhood memory.

“Funny, that’s the same reason you lost against Dictionary, 2008, Debate team, 1st year."

Dimple and Serizawa had bluntly confused expressions on their faces while Reigens morphed into an annoyed scowl. “Ugh, don’t remind me of that,” he whined, leaning back in his seat.

Serizawa asks the question that he was thinking. “You were on the Debate team Reigen-sama?” he questioned his boss.

Reigen nodded. “Yeah. All throughout high school and a little bit before that. We both were actually,” he replied, pointing his thumb at you.

You childishly point your finger back at him, your tongue sticking out. “That’s how we met when we were 1st years! We were both in Debate throughout our high school careers,” you recalled cheerfully.

Serizawa's eyes widened. He knew you and Reigen knew each other for a long time but he didn’t think it was for that long. You two must know each other so well. You both would make a great couple.

“So who’s this ‘Dictionary’ anyway?” Dimple rejoined making you laugh again. It kind of made Serizawa want to laugh too.

When you started talking, breakfast was no longer on either of your minds. “Pfft, it was this guy. maybe a 3rd year? Reigen was spouting off his argument to the judges, and Dictionary brought out a little pocket dictionary and SO desperately searched through it before commenting how Arataka had used ONE fucking word wrong and objected. He said it gave off the wrong message to the judges or some bullshit like that,” you told, barely trying to hold your laughs at this point.

“Total bullshit! The judge ended up agreeing too!!” Reigen exclaimed before sighing. He smiled at the memory. “Ah, but that was so long ago," he uttered.

Serizawa couldn’t help but comment on how long you two have known each other. “Wow, I didn’t know you both knew each other for that long.”

You visibly agreed. “Mhm! 13 years. I know, it’s unbelievable. That’s an entire Mob!” You smiled so brightly as you recalled your teenage memories with Reigen, Serizawa wished he could know you as Reigen does. But, even though he’s only known you for a year, he still knows little things about you. How you talk passionately about literally anything, or how you’re always triggered when anything changes. Like if he or Reigen tie their ties differently.

Serizawa is older than you and Reigen by 2 years, though you’re more mature than him. He sighed to himself. ‘I wish I could be bold and catch your attention,’ he thought as he stared at your side profile. ‘I want you to smile when you think of us too…’

Reigen begins to randomly check his watch for no reason in particular, but that is when he notices the time, and his eyes widen to the size of plates. “It’s been half an hour!?” he belted, his voice full of disbelief.

When he shouts this information it causes each of you to check the time on your own, and he was right, it had been 32 minutes since Serizawa’s arrival. “We should get going and hurriedly get breakfast or we’re going to be there later than planned,” he advised, putting his arms through his blazer and buttoning it up.

You stand up along with Reigen. “Damn, we got distracted,” you mumbled. Serizawa stood after you. You pointed a finger at him. “Miso soup it is Katsuya!” you declared before you all left.

The group soon grabbed breakfast before beginning their drawn-out journey. The drive was uneventful for the last few hours. In the beginning, you were able to keep in conversation with all your buddy co-workers, but once the Miso soup settled in, it made your body realize how little sleep you were. You mindlessly wished you could’ve brought your car, but your car was too small. You fell asleep in the backseat of the car.

As Reigen said earlier, this drive had no stops, meaning once you all were there you all were starving for nutrition. Even Dimple was tempted to possess a body for some food. The client was there upon your arrival, fruit in her grasp. You could’ve thanked the women to death.

As the job proceeded, Serizawa was the leader for this job unlike usual. This was because he had more knowledge of spirits and ghosts. Dimple's input also helped gravely. You were, honestly, scared out of your mind along with Reigen. So you made sure to stand close to Serizawa since he seemed to know what he was doing, which made the poor man markedly delighted.

After getting chased and screamed at by perfectionist ghosts, the job was done. Reigen’s earlier estimate was right. You all were finished not too late and made it back to Seasoning City at 2 am like predicted. That job was a doozy, but the pay made it all so worth it. Luckily the client was wealthy.

“Man, that was a doooozy,” you whined as you each walked into the office of Spirits & Suchs. You flop down onto the couch cushions and rest your eyes. “I’m exhausted—and starving again,” you declared as Serizawa sat next to you.

He digs his hand into his pocket right after you stated this fact. “Here, I picked up a few granola bars when we stopped at the convenience store.” He handed you a mixed berry granola bar.

You grabbed the bars from his hands. “You’re a lifesaver, Serizawa!” you rejoiced, a smile present on your face as you open the wrapper and take a wide bite.

Reigen sat at his desk chair after closing the door behind him and Dimple; Reigen no longer wore his blazer and his tie was loose. That job was a killer. Especially since he was the one driving to and back.

You rest your elbow on the couch handles and place your cheek on your palm as you chew. “Man, I’d kill for a drink,” you thought but ended up muttering aloud.

“Would you like me to pick something up for you?” he suggested. His gaze laying on your relaxed form. You knew Serizawa was exhausted like the rest of you, he did modestly do most of the work. He's one of the strongest Espers you know. You tend to forget this due to his forbearing nature.

You shake your head, not wanting to keep asking for things. You really should thank him more. “No, you don’t have to! Plus I don’t mean any drink, particularly some al-co-hol~” you sang. Your correction unintentionally made Serizawa feel like an idiot.

When you mentioned alcohol, you caught the attention of your dear friend Reigen. “You wanna get drunk?” he inquired.

You smiled cheekily, shrugging your shoulders also. “Kinda!”

Reigen grabbed his chin in thought. “Hmm, well I don’t have any planned clients tomorrow so I'm cool with that. Been a while since I had some good alcohol,” he stated, causing you to laugh to the point of choking.

"Pfft, no way Reigen. You’re an impressive lightweight!” you teased.

Dimple rejoined the conversation. “You are a lightweight, Reigen,” he added on to the fact, making the man scowled.

“Oh, shut up!” he barked.

“I’ve never drunk alcohol before…” Serizawa announced.

You turn your gaze onto him, somewhat surprised; well, he was two years older than you so you just assumed. “What? You’ve never been wasted?” you exclaimed your sluggish form from before disappearing.

He slowly shook his head. “Uh, no,” he admitted.

“Well, that’s not a surprise,” Dimple commented.

You sometimes forget that Serizawa only recently started going out into the world. Reigen then spoke before you could. “You don’t have to drink any. We can get something else for you,” he suggested. “We should get some dinner while we’re out too,” he added.

Serizawa quickly shook his head. “N-No, I’ve been wanting to try some for a while. Just for the experience I guess,” he said. He wasn’t lying when he said that, he did like experiencing the small things. “Is that weird? Kind of niche…” he mumbles to himself.

He lightly flinched when you touched his shoulder. The contact made him shiver in delight, he was barely able to hear what you were saying. “Of course not! We all have niche things we want to do. I personally wanna buy something from a luxurious brand just for the ‘experience.’” You didn’t want Serizawa feeling as if he was the outcast between you all.

He nodded his head, avoiding eye contact with you. Now that everything was official, you ate the last piece of your granola bar, you threw it into the bin. You then pumped your fist into the air. “Let’s all get wasted!” you declared.

Your moment was ruined when Reigen deadpanned. “Wipe your face,” he said, pointing at the crumbs on your face. You whined about how he ruined your moment and embarrassed you as you wiped the crumbs off your face. After bickering like children for an hour, you all left.

You all made it back to Spirits and Such after picking up some good alcohol and food. The night was followed by friendly chatter. After hours of drinking, Reigen was the first to decide that he was ready to call it quits. Surprisingly, he wasn’t pink in the face. Dimple also decided to end the night as it was and make his leave. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t want the night to end but knew you couldn’t force them to stay. Though, it seems Serizawa also didn’t want to leave. His face was in a daze as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

You turn your gaze to him after Reigen declared that he was ready to go home. “Serizawa, you sure you don’t wanna go with them?” you ask. Serizawa stated loudly, which was out of character, how he didn’t wanna end the night yet. “Dimple can possess somebody and drive you home. You know how to drive right, Dimple?”

Dimple responded. “Easy skill.”

Reigen scratched his nose. “Yeah, I still have that car rented for another day or two,” he added.

You all could tell he’d drunk a bit more than needed for a newbie. To his lazy posture and flushed face. Oddly, Serizawa didn’t even act like he was listening to Reigen, he ignored Reigens words and moved his face close to yours. “I’d rather stay with you,” he muttered, boldly making eye contact with you.

“Oh?” you mustered.

After a short silence, Reigen speaks. “Right… Well then, have a good night you two. Don’t forget to lock up before you leave.” He said as he opened the door, his grey blazer over his shoulder. Dimple waved you two off. “See ya later.”

Serizawa’s odd behavior did not come to a stop, even after Reigen and Dimple left. So you decide to confront him, Your eyes laced with his. “Serizawa?” You called lightly as he sat right next to you.

“Are you drunk?” you asked him.

This only made him shrug his shoulder and turn away before turning back to you. “I don’t know…but I am intoxicated by you,” he purred, making you cringe.

You sighed. “You’re drunk. You should’ve gone with Arataka,” you said more to yourself than to him. Though he responded.

“I said I’d rather be alone with you,” he repeated.

You groaned. He was sober enough to remember that. “I know what you said.” You shouldn’t have allowed him to drink so much, you thought.

What the man said next surprised you. “Mmm, If I was Reigen you wouldn’t question me. You wouldn’t worry so much about offending me," he mumbled.

You turn your head back to him, your arm on the armrest. “Katsuya, what are you talking about?”

He chuckles to himself. “You always say my name so rarely, it makes it so special to hear,” he said before frowning again. You decided it was best to just listen to him rather than to respond.

“I don’t want to worry you so much. I want you to be comfortable with me. I want you to care for me the way I care for you.” he confessed, turning his gaze to lap. “I try to be stronger, less pathetic b-but--” he sobbed, and suddenly tears were streaming down his face.“—but I don't know how to make that happen!”

You touch his arm to soothe him somehow. “Serizawa?” You wanted to ask him if he was alright but he just finished saying how he didn’t like how you constantly worried for him.

He stopped crying just as fast as he started, and he grabbed your hand that touched his bicep. “Say my first name again.” He looked up at you. “Please let me hear you say it again.”

For some reason, you mindlessly did what he asked you to do. “Katsuya~”

He groans as soon as you purr his name out “I love how you say my name. I love hearing it from your lips, I love being with you. I adore everything about you. Which makes it clear to me why you wouldn't want a man like me l-loving you…” he rambled, slouching over his lap.

It was a short silence before you began to smile at yourself. “K-Katsuya," you chuckled. "Thank you for speaking your mind with me,” you said, squeezing his hand. He turned to look at you again, he didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to say either: so you kissed him.

Katsuya's eyes slowly shut as you took control of the kiss. He could tell he was being needy in his kiss, but he couldn’t help it. You pulled away, his lips following you for a second. His stomach felt all hot and warm like he was going to erupt. He removed his hand from yours, quickly covering his mouth. In a second he’s behind the couch throwing up.

You stood still for a moment in shock, before realizing what he was doing. You rub his back as he embarrassedly throws up his dinner and drinks. Eventually, after he's done throwing up, he passes out from exhaustion and embarrassment.

You sighed to yourself as he slept on the couch. You wiped his face with a napkin. After thinking, you decide that you’ll both stay here for the night. He slept like a baby on the couch as you cleaned his face, and you admired his features, cupping his face before saying to yourself or him, you’re not really sure. “No. You’re not pathetic, Katsuya.”

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#© UNDERSCAR #X. FEMALE READER #mob psycho 100 x reader #mp100 x reader #serizawa x reader #serizawa x you #serizawa katsuya x reader #serizawa katsuya x you #mob psycho 100 x you

55 notes · View notes

underscar · 11 months

Note

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.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

#© UNDERSCAR #not proofread #power x reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x y/n #csm x y/n #csm x fem reader #csm x you #csm x reader #power x you #power x y/n #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader

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