Warning: Reader Death Hehe And Vague Mentioned To How Reader Dies

Warning: reader death hehe and vague mentioned to how reader dies

His years as a Devil Hunter have lessen his sanity. The drinking didn’t help either and, with it, common sense becomes uncommon for him to grasp. So, what he forbid Himeno to commit became his monthly pilgrimage. 

His walk towards you was undoubtedly slow, dragging his shoes on the pavement as he focus on your grave - perfectly still and quiet, just like the rest of the folks buried nearby. 

As he finally reached you, Kishibe places a bouquet on your grave; a mixture of zinnias and sunflowers with daffodils he plucked out of someone’s garden near the cemetery. Then, he looks at you once more, closer, with less of a squint from the heat of the sun and more of a blank expression.

Your headstone was written in the fancy cursive he thought you’d prefer and its material was shiny, reflective, similar to the jewelry you wear. In a sense, you were still beautiful, a sight that leaves him breathless each time he sees you. 

Just like that day, when death forces the air out of your body. Leaving you literally breathless as your gaze aimed and dimmed at him. Your shock expression never changes since then and, for a vigil with only him as the attendant, it was hard to not get attached to your casket. 

Nobody was there to offer him condolences nor booze to distract himself with. Ironic for the Mad Dog to be lucid concerning someone’s death but it’s different. You’re different, you weren’t even a Devil Hunter in the first place. 

Let alone someone who is capable of fighting back. 

Kishibe breathes in then out, counting sheep in his head just like you told him to whenever he finds himself restless. 

“Thought, I’d stop by here,” Kishibe eventually occupies the quiet, his hand slipped into his blazer, feeling the cold metal of his flask on his fingertips. “Bought some flowers too - thought you need it ‘cause you like them right?”

Silence. 

“Also, your plants aren’t not dying, don’t worry.” It’s a lie. Kishibe have thrown and replace your plants multiple times. “I got a wonderful green thumb and also an eye for design.” Meaning he had placed all of your plants in the balcony, regardless that some of them needs more shade than others. 

He hears the rustles of leaves, the weep of someone nearby, and his breath. Kishibe feels the simmers of heat on his suit and the light breeze brushing his skin. 

He’s not expecting answers from a woman who is more bones than flesh at this point. Months have passed since he outlive you so maggots and other insects have gotten to taste your skin just like he did when you were alive. 

And he was jealous of them - the parasites that satiated their hunger out of your suffering. 

Instead, he lives on. Day by day, numb and dissociating. He still plays the song you insist was made for the two of you, still eat his vegetables to be, at the very least, healthy despite his vices, and still sleeps on the left side of the bed where the sun hits first. 

He continues to work as if that day was a regular Tuesday because to everyone else in the Public Safety, it was just that. The annoyance they express over the wreckage of private property, the enthusiasm over alcohol after rescuing injured civilians while searching for the bodies of the deceased. The insanity they all express as they fought the Devil that took you as hostage. 

But something happened and Kishibe thinks he wasn’t intoxicated enough to pursue the last blow. He could blame the alcohol for all he knows, or his co-workers, or the fact that the Devil was insistent in escaping each chance it got before it stumbled upon you.

Kishibe breathes in then out. 

Then, once more. 

“I meal-prepped for the first time,” Kishibe says to break the tension. His flask has gotten warm within his grasp. Opening it would reveal a strong oolong smell which you’d be surprise about considering he would never touch tea before. 

“Thought the chicken was fucking salty and the miso was bland and overall an exhausting experience…” Kishibe continues to ramble. “Don’t get why you insisted in cooking for me though. Not like I need a warm and delicious meal everyday.”

It’s a conversation that repeats itself throughout his relationship with you and while different reasons have been stated and agreed. It never truly fits the narrative you pursue. So, no, Kishibe knows it wasn’t because homecook meals costs less nor does your expertise in the kitchen.

“But you’d fight me on that though,” Kishibe adds and lets go of the flask in his grasp, dragging his fingers down to the tie he had loosely put on the collar of his shirt.

“And then you would ramble about how I deserve at least somethin’.” With a chuckle, he reminisces how ridiculous and obsessive you were with his being; getting heated even with eyes that shed tears for his self-deprecation. 

Mad Dog Kishibe, strong and prideful but when treated with your fragility he crumbled. He doesn’t have to wonder why you put up with him. 

It’s because you love him; it’s something you say to him all the time.

“I love you,” you say after waking up then another before he leaves for work. You’d say it again after he comes back from said work then another before he falls asleep.

It was romantic, corny, and it always churns his stomach whenever he hears it. He was unresponsive the first few attempts you tried it out, scoffing at the romanticism you portrayed the relationship with. But he looks then nods before establishing a routine of kisses and hugs. 

In his head, however, there’s a limit for his responses and that one day he’ll tighten his boundaries concerning your love. And yet he delays and excuses until there was nothing left to hide from.

“Guess, these days I deserve nothing at all,” he tells you regardless of the reassuring words that began to verbalize in his head. It uses your voice, luring him to take back the harsh proclamation but he didn’t. 

With his success, he aches for a cigarette but he knows his pockets were empty of any and that the last box he had were crumbled inside the glove compartment of his car. Sometimes forgotten, mostly remembered - an attempt to undo years of addiction. 

Kishibe chants the simple phrase in his head and finally mouths the words in silence. Fear shouldn’t be the force to cage him for one attempt in reciprocation but he stands still, throat constricted, with the never-ending grief he has for you.

His beloved.

KITTY’S CHARM. ft lyney

tags. fem!reader, lyney knows reader but reader doesn’t know lyney, he’s a cat like the one in his hat, soft kisses, fluff, lyney is a flirt and a tease, not proofread. wc. 0.5k

“Ah, hello there, kitty,” you whispered softly, your fingers gently caressing the small cat’s fur.

“What brings you out here all alone?”You picked up the cat, feeling it nuzzle against your knee with a gentle lean.

“Meow〜”

“Alright, little one, I’ll take you home. Just remember, no wreaking havoc on my couch,” you playfully cautioned, cradling the cat tenderly as you made your way back home.

Upon arriving home, the cat gracefully hopped out of your arms, already making itself at ease in its newfound surroundings.

“Why so restless, huh? You’re already at home,” you teased, watching the ebony feline’s paw gently tap at your pants.

As night fell, you embarked on your customary routine—slipping into comfortable pajamas and placing a glass of water on your bedside table. The dark cat followed suit, sauntering into your room and settling onto your bed, finding a cozy spot as you nestled in.

“Come here, kitty,” you coaxed, spreading your arms and the blanket invitingly. The cat nestled in close, its content purrs of delight filling the air as you held it close.

“Goodnight, kitty,” you murmured, bestowing a tender kiss upon its nose before surrendering to a tranquil slumber.

Nestling closer to the warmth beside you, you sleepily enveloped it with your arms.

To your astonishment, you realised an arm in your grasp, and tracing further down, your fingers met another hand. As your eyes shot open in shock, you were met with the sight of an ash-blond man in your bed.

“WHO ARE YOU, AND WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?!” you exclaimed, launching a pillow at the man, who adeptly evaded it.

“I’m Kitty, or you can call me Lyney," he replied, his innocent smile attempting to defuse the situation.

“The magician? How and why were you a cat?!” you persisted, only to be silenced by his finger pressing gently against your lips.

“Well, Madam, it appears I accidentally imbibed a potion and found myself transformed into a cat. Thankfully, you stumbled upon me and came to my rescue. So, might I offer you anything in return for your kindness?” he inquired playfully, conjuring a rainbow rose in his hand and extending it towards you.

“I’m not… quite sure,” you mused, holding the rose delicately in your hand. Suddenly, you felt his finger gently lifting your chin.

“How about bestowing me with another kiss?” he teased, leaning closer to you.

A rosy hue tinted your cheeks as his enchanting smile held you captive.

“That kiss was meant for the kitty, not you,” you stammered, nervously pressing your lips together.

“Hmm, but I’m still the kitty in human form, aren’t I?” he persisted, his playful tone lingering in the air.

“Come on, just one little kiss,” he pleaded, his eyes sparkling.

“Not a chance.”

“Not even on the cheek?” he pouted, his playful charm impossible to resist.

“Ugh, fine,” you relented, your exasperation evident in a soft groan. You leaned in to plant a swift peck on what you believed to be his cheek, only to find him moving his head, causing your lips to meet his in a surprising twist.

“Thank you for the sweet kiss, my lady,” he whispered, a playful wink accompanying his words.

He chuckled softly as he watched your cheeks turn a delicate shade of red. Your endearing display of shyness only deepened his affection for you, making him fall even more head over heels.

NOTES. he’s very writeable, i keep thinking about cat noir whenever i write about him

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

new trim wys

please reblog!! <3

[11:23 pm]

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader; angst!!

"you're leaving for spain?"

despite your questioning tone, itoshi sae knows you well enough to know that your inquiry is actually a statement. he turns around, seeing you leaning against his doorframe. your arms are crossed, a neutral expression on your face as you meet his eyes.

he nods once, giving you the confirmation that you need. you merely hum quietly in response, silence ensuing as you continue to stare at one another. it feels like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds before sae opens his mouth to speak again.

"who told you?"

"rin."

"figures," sae scoffs. of course rin would go running to you. whenever a disagreement would take place between the two brothers, rin would go to you for support, knowing you were the only one who sae would listen to. a part of him is scared to hear what you have to say next, unsure of his own actions if you were to ask him to stay.

another part of him anxiously waits for you to speak, to ask (not beg, he knows you'd never beg) him to stay and wait a few years. to wait for the both of you to graduate before leaving for spain, where you'd continue your studies abroad and he'd be able to live out his dream with you by his side. but it never comes, and he can't ignore the dull ache in his chest when you look away, nodding softly before turning to leave.

"have a safe flight, sae."

you're gone before he can even think about responding, and he sits down on his bed as he realizes that a part of him— his heart— will always remain in japan.

wc: 285 rbs are appreciated <3