My name is Eclipse I go by she | her and it | its. I have been writing fanfiction for about 10 years now, mostly x reader. I am 21 years old, and my birthday is May 24.
This blog contains writing specifically geared towards Demon Slayer, which I have been writing and posting about since 2022.
My favourite characters are Douma, Enmu, Obanai, Muichiro, Kyogai, and Hantengu!
My time zone is AST | ADT & I am Canadian. I hope you enjoy what I write for you!
Please include information from the request format provided below
Only female or gender neutral reader
I only write characters listed in my masterlist
You can request up to five characters for a prompt
Exception to character limit for hashira or upper ranks + muzan, then I'll do all of them
Post Types
Headcanons
Oneshots
Match-Ups
Request Format
Each post type requires different information, so this is generally what I need for different requests.
Headcanons & Oneshots: Character(s), some form of prompt, reader's pronouns, extra details. You do not need to specify which (headcanons or oneshot), I pick based off how much I have to say/what ideas I get from your prompt.
Match-Ups: Preferred character gender(s), preferred side (demons| slayers | hashira | uppermoons) anything about you (the more the merrier, can be linked via pastebin if long). Can ask for romantic or platonic, or both.
Synopsis: on a quiet winter’s day, you pay a visit to Iguro Obanai, bringing a heartfelt gift
Warnings: brief mention of blood
A/N: Merry Christmas, @signedeclipse✨ I had the joy of being your Secret Santa for this year’s exchange over @pixelcafe-network. I hope this little fic brings a smile to your day and adds a bit of warmth to your holiday season. Wishing you all the love, laughter, and cozy moments with those you hold dear💛
⇢ DEMON SLAYER MASTERLIST
Snow drifted softly from a pale sky, settling like a delicate veil over the tiled roofs of Iguro Obanai’s estate. It gathered along the edges of the stone path as you stepped through the gate, each crunch of your boots muted beneath the thick blanket of white.
Clutched to your chest was a bundle swaddled in brown paper and tied with twine, held as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
The winter air was crisp and sharp, each breath rising in misty clouds before you. Your fingers brushed the surface of the paper, and it crinkled softly under your careful touch as you adjusted your hold.
You paused just inside the courtyard, and listened.
Steel cut through silence. The sharp, controlled sound of a blade slicing the winter air, followed by the controlled thud of feet striking wood, told you exactly where he was.
You followed the noise to the training hall, stopping just short of the open doors. From there, you watched him.
Obanai Iguro was training again. Of course he was. Even after nearly three years, some things never changed.
You leaned just past the doorway.
Obanai moved like a coiled thing, every motion exact, disciplined, and sharp. His body twisted and flowed in patterns that seemed almost serpentine, white-and-black haori flaring with each turn. Sweat darkened his uniform despite the cold, and his sword sang as it met imaginary foes.
Kaburamaru rested nearby, pale coils tucked neatly atop a wooden beam, golden eyes following every movement of his master.
For a moment, you simply watched.
It was impossible not to admire him - his dedication, his focus, the way he treated training not as a task but as devotion. It was the same fierce intensity that had saved your life three winters ago - back when you didn’t even know his name, back when demons were nothing more than whispered stories you barely believed.
You had been new to Japan then, a foreigner still tripping over the language, still marveling at lantern-lit streets and unfamiliar customs. The demon had found you on a narrow road outside a village, its claws already closing in when a white-and-black blur dropped from the trees. You remembered blood on the snow, remembered terror giving way to awe as he fought: silent, merciless, beautiful in a terrifying way.
And somehow, after that night, against all odds, you had stayed in touch.
Letters at first. Awkward ones. Yours too long, his painfully brief. Then visits, infrequent but treasured. You learned about the Demon Slayer Corps, about the weight he carried, about the quiet way he existed at the edges of every room. You admired him; not just as a warrior, but as a person who endured so much without complaint.
Obanai, for his part, never quite knew what to do with you. He had grown used to your presence over the years, yes, but comfortable was perhaps too generous a word. He was still stiff when you smiled at him, still looked away too quickly when you stood too close. You’d heard the whispers: that he wasn’t good with women, that he struggled with words and gestures. But you didn’t mind. In fact, his quiet awkwardness felt endearing, even sweet, like a secret warmth hidden beneath his carefully guarded exterior.
You shifted your weight, the paper bundle rustling.
The floor creaked. Obanai froze mid-strike, his blade halting a hair’s breadth from the wooden post. Slowly, he lowered it, turning toward the sound. His mismatched eyes met yours, widening ever so slightly. The moment recognition flickered across his gaze, something in him softened; his rigid posture eased, shoulders relaxing just a fraction. Yet the faint crease between his brows lingered, a silent question of how to behave around you. “…You shouldn’t be standing there,” he murmured at last, his voice low and restrained. “It’s cold.”
You smiled, stepping fully into the room. “Hello to you too, Iguro.”
Kaburamaru lifted his head, tongue flicking curiously.
“You didn’t say you were coming today,” he muttered.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You held up the bundle. “It’s Christmas time, after all.”
His grip on the sword tightened. “You don’t need to bring things every time you visit.”
“I know,” you whispered gently. “But I wanted to.”
That earned you a brief, flustered silence.
Obanai sheathed his sword with ease, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. Still, he walked toward you, stopping at a careful distance. “What is it?” The black-haired man asked.
“Open it, and you’ll see.”
Up close, you could see the faint flush on his cheeks; whether from exertion or something else, you weren’t sure. You’d learned over the years that Obanai was brave beyond measure, but social graces, especially around women, were his greatest battlefield.
He hesitated, then carefully took the bundle from your arms, holding it like something fragile.
Kaburamaru slid down from his beam and coiled around Obanai’s shoulders, peering at the package with keen interest.
Iguro untied the twine.
The paper fell away to reveal soft wool. Inside were two woolen sweaters, hand-knit with painstaking care. One was small, thin, and striped black and white, tailored to fit a very specific snake. The other was larger, soft gray with subtle patterns along the sleeves, the stitches even and neat. You’d chosen the color after remembering how often Obanai wore muted tones, how anything too bright seemed to make him uncomfortable.
For a long moment, Obanai didn’t move or say anything. “… You made these?” He asked finally.
You nodded, suddenly shy despite all the planning and late nights. “I know it’s not perfect. Wool was harder to find here, and I had to learn a few new stitches… If they don’t fit, I can fix them. Or make new ones…”
Kaburamaru slithered forward before you could finish, nosing at the smaller sweater. He tested the fabric with his tongue, then looked up at Obanai expectantly.
“He likes it,” Iguro pointed out, sounding faintly bewildered. Carefully, almost reverently, Iguro helped Kaburamaru into the tiny sweater.
The snake wriggled for a moment, then settled, clearly pleased. The wool contrasted adorably against pale scales.
You clasped your hands together, giggling loudly. “My, oh my! He looks perfect. What a distinguished gentleman!”
The sound startled Obanai more than any demon ever had. His eyes widened slightly when he glanced at you. There was a silence again, but he cleared his throat in the end. “Thank you.”
You watched as he unfolded the larger sweater. It was simple but carefully made, stitched to fit beneath his uniform without restricting movement.
Silence settled, comfortable this time.
Snow continued to fall outside, and lantern light cast gentle shadows across the room.
“You’ve changed,” Obanai uttered suddenly.
You tilted your head. “Have I?”
“You’re less afraid.”
You thought of that particular evening again; the smell of blood clinging to the air, blood clots darkening the earth, the terror that had once locked your body in place and stolen your breath. Those memories still lived somewhere deep inside your mind.
Then your gaze fell on Iguro: the man who had placed himself between you and death without hesitation, who had lifted his blade when your mind was paralyzed with fear, who had risked everything so that you might live.
“That’s because of you,” you let out a sigh. “I owe you everything, Iguro.”
He stiffened, clearly unsure how to respond. His fingers curled lightly around the edge of the sweater. “Stay,” he asked, barely above a whisper. “For tea.”
Your heart fluttered. “I’d like that.”
Obanai nodded, clearly relieved you hadn’t refused.
As Iguro turned to prepare the tea, Kaburamaru began shifting restlessly on his shoulders, the little snake wriggling and sliding as though drawn by an invisible thread toward you. His tiny head stretched forward, tongue flickering eagerly, eyes glinting with unmistakable curiosity.
You held out a hand, gentle and inviting.
Without hesitation, Kaburamaru slipped along it, body coiling lightly around your wrist, then threading itself upward until he finally settled comfortably on your shoulder. His small weight made you laugh softly, careful not to startle him.
Soon, tea steamed gently in porcelain cups, Kaburamaru rested contentedly on your shoulder, and Obanai actually engaged in a conversation with you.
The snow fell quietly outside, but inside, hearts thawed.
Wow hi! I am so excited that your requests are open, I have been really enjoying your work AND getting to have a new writer in the kny community!
Could I request the Upper Moons with a slayer who has managed to fight them and escape alive before? Something like it started just before sunrise or they were called into a meeting? Bonus points if they've escaped more than one encounter!
I love the idea of the frustration mixing with the infatuation of how someone could manage to be so damn lucky! You're free to include Muzan if you think it fits, but I wasn't sure anyone could escape him ngl. Thank you very much!
hello! thanks so much for sending in a request, i'm sorry it's taken me a minute to answer! :3 and thank you for the warm welcome into the community! it's so nice to interact with other writers. <3
this is such a juicy request. i'm very basic and into the enemies-to-lovers trope. :3 i hope you enjoy!
𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢!
𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐎
Escaping Kokushibo even one time is no small feat, but multiple? Oh, boy. You really are something special, Reader.
You are a marked Hashira, as well as a creator of your own Breathing style. Your Breathing style involves a lot of defensive moves that, paired with your immense speed, make it difficult for Kokushibo to land a blow. On the other hand, you are unable to fight offensively, as Moon Breathing is too oppressive.
Perfect defense versus perfect offense. Unstoppable force meets immovable object.
It's infuriating.
So, so infuriating.
During your first meeting, not only do you thwart his plans to kill lower ranked Demon Slayers, but you also last until sunrise. He's forced to flee from the fight, a decision he cannot contend with. In all his years, he has never met a Demon Slayer he cannot kill, save for Yoriichi.
Kokushibo makes it his mission to hunt you down. Finish what he started.
But then it happens again. And again. And again. Until finally, he's had enough.
Your next encounter, he doesn't draw his sword. Instead, he has a proposal.
"Abandon your humanity."
You could become a Demon worth defeating—but you turn down his offer, angering him further. You appall him. How could someone so strong turn away from greatness? It doesn’t make sense.
Kokushibo becomes obsessed with you, your ruthless pursuer… and, with each run-in, you two learn more about each other. Without meaning to, you become close.
Your battles become half-hearted, a mere clashing of blades, a formality. Kokushibo can’t seem to kill you, but he can’t just let you live. Not without him.
𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐀
The first time you meet Douma, you're undercover.
You've heard whispers of a demon cult leader, lurking in the mountains. When you happen upon the Eternal Paradise Faith, you know Douma is the demon you're looking for. Like Tanjiro with his sense of smell and Zenitsu with his hearing, you have a very helpful intuition. While you might not be a Hashira-level Demon Slayer yet, your intuition combined with your wit makes you... slippery.
Too slippery for Douma.
It's a carousel game of cat and mouse. Both of you knows the other is your enemy, but without concrete confirmation, you cannot attack each other. Not yet. Every time Douma thinks he's close to unveiling your identity as a Demon Slayer, you slip away. The opposite rings true for you, too.
One day, when your cover is close to being blown, you disappear into the night. Douma, having enjoyed your game of cat and mouse, is… sad? that you’re gone. He wants you to play with him forever! So, he resolves to eat you!
Douma hunts you down. You evade him for a while, but he eventually finds you. He corners you with a smile.
“Ah, there you are~!”
You don’t have the strength to slay Douma. So what do you do? You turn this into a battle of wits… and with your silver tongue, you convince Douma to spare your life.
But he can’t just let you leave. Oh, no. You’re far too interesting. You must come with him. Play your games with him forever.
𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐀
Akaza doesn't kill women, so his typical targets are men of any age. One night, he happens upon a group of intoxicated young men, and, appalled by their weak minds, tries to kill them.
But when he goes in for the killing blow, without fail, every man disappears before his eyes.
You, a mere Tsuguko, are able to out speed him. You're not physically strong, but you're light on your feet, and it's enough to move men out of harm's way. And without you directly attacking Akaza, his Compass Needle doesn't register your next move.
“Why do you waste your energy on these weaklings?” he hisses.
You puff your chest out and proudly proclaim that these men are not weak, and that only a weakling would become a Demon.
Oh?
Oh.
Oh…
Just who do you think you are, little Tsuguko?
Akaza can’t hurt you directly, but he can find other ways to make you suffer. For your insult, he terrorizes villages under your supervision. Annoyingly, you’re always there to save the day, but he doesn’t make it easy for you. And your run-ins are filled with his taunts and chatter.
Akaza becomes so obsessed with proving a point that it distracts him from his missions.
One night, he catches wind that you’re in charge of another village, along with two lower ranked Demon Slayer men… but when he’s there to murder your two men, you don’t show up.
Your absence… it troubles him.
He doesn’t finish the job. He leaves your peers bleeding but alive, all so he can find you. Where are you, little Slayer?
On the other side of the village, Akaza finds you—passed out from overexertion. He pushed you to your limit.
…
When you come to, you’re no longer in the village. You’re in the forest, beside a campfire. Across the flames, you see Akaza.
Her name is Palhi, she's a 14 year old demon slayer that was brought up by a previous wind Hashira since she isn't sure who her parents are.
At some point while she was very young her guardian/mentor was turned into a demon, and he ate other humans in secret but trained her extremely harshly until she was able to cut off his head on her own.
She dual wields, with shorter blades made up of the metal from her mentors' nichirin.
At some point she became Sanemi's Tsuguko, which is when she met Muichiro.
They aren't dating, nor do they recognize having feelings for one another. They're both so young I dont imagine they even think about being 'official', if they're side by side and happy with eachother then thats all that matters.
But their dynamic is strong, soulmate strong:
Mui (whether his colder mean side or his friendlier side) is relatively expressionless and loves to ragebait.
Palhi looks super cute and always smiles (even while in battle or dying) but is crazy brutal and harsh to anyone. Shes kind of like a mini Douma, in some ways.
Because of all her influences, she is in the process of developing her own breathing styles which mix Wind, Mist, and a bit of Water. It'll likely be called Storm Breathing, whcih suits her chaotic as hell combat.
Her platform boots are full of lead and the diamond tie ends of her braids are like, tungsten heavy. She uses them to literally throw herself with momentum beyond her natural weight.
Her theme song is Breeze by Jermango Dreaming
Their theme song is Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish!
I could talk about her forever but I will stop new before I go WILD!!!
tags *ೃ༄ fluff, angst, arranged marriage (not kokushibo), yandere behavior, attempted SA (not kokushibo), canon typical violence, suggestive moments, misogyny, comfort, rationalization of traumatic events (reader), let me know if I missed anything!
summary *ೃ༄ making a friend of a demon was unthinkable ー unheard of, even. but when a particular demon saves your life and makes it a point to conversate with you every night.. well, it's a little hard not to become acquainted, isn't it?
note *ೃ༄ i really really hope you guys enjoy this.. >:) it's super long and i didn't mean to write that much but nonetheless, i look forward to writing for Koku & some of the Hashiras :).
masterlist *ೃ༄
The night he first saw you, it was snowing.
Snowflakes fell slowly, as if they were in limbo not able to make up their minds about falling or staying mid air; It was a breathtaking sight. Blankets of snow covered the once lush green grass that surrounded your home like a sea of white. The First Upper Moon did not usually venture out into the world unless absolutely necessary, so it was unbeknownst even to him why he found himself among the trees, his eyes focused on the woman who constantly came out to the engawa on the back side of her home in the middle of the night.
Kokushibo knew all too well, the naivety of human beings and you was no different. All humans by now, knew the dangers of staying out too late. Especially the women — So was this habit of yours due to your stupidity or did you just like to tempt death? Your reasoning was beyond him. Sooner or later, it would cost you your life; He was sure of it.
But he'd like to watch while you were still able to take in the breath of life — it did not come from a cynical place, not in the way Douma probably would regard it, but you intrigued him, weirdly enough.
After all, he was human once as well.
Tentatively, you reached a hand out into the air before you, catching snowflakes on your palm and watching them turn into water once they made contact with your warm skin. Winter had finally come. This season was your favorite for many reasons; The fluffy snow, the warm meals.. but most of all, you loved the long nights. When the crescent moon revealed itself to you, it was as if the spirit of tranquility took you over — as if nothing else but this moment mattered.
And maybe it was escapism.
Maybe it was just your way of coping with reality.
But the privilege of seeing the moon every night out on the engawa, with your legs dangling off the edge and your eyes glued to the sky, is something you would never change. The fact that you were betrothed to a landowner would not change this habit. If anything, your longing gaze would only increase evermore.
The cold bite of the wind felt like kisses on your cheeks, and the feeling of snowflakes melting in your tresses only brought you that sense of comfort you so desperately sought out in these long nights. Often times, you left the shoji door open because you wanted to keep these nights close to your heart like a secret. Like a treasure only you knew of. You inhaled slowly with your eyes closed, the cold air entering your lungs and exiting your mouth in visible warm puffs of air.
Fabric brushes against wood but it isn't yours. It's close, but not you — you know it is not you because of the fact that you're sitting completely still in this silent night. You wonder then if maybe it was a good idea to be out tonight. Then again, you should have never felt this comfortable to be out on your own at night, everyone knew these were the hours in which demons were most active..
But would dying at the hands of a demon really be that damning when you were destined to live a subservient empty life anyway?
The sound grew closer, only this time it was accompanied by heaving and what sounded like laughing. You dared not open your eyes, but you didn't run either. If this was your fate, you would accept it with a warm embrace. This decision was a split second decision, one you regretted the moment you opened your eyes to reveal the grotesque visage of a demon. It's horns and multiple eyes should have made you scream and cry, but not even a peep escaped your lips.
And before you could even register what happened, the demon was disintegrating in a flash, only for the image of a tall man with a purple and black kimono, his black hakama draped over him and a katana at his side, to grace your vision. His long tresses obstructed his face from you, but you weren't looking too hard anyway, if anything you were intrigued as to how and why you were saved by this stranger.
How had he managed to sneak onto the grounds of your home without you noticing?
Unfortunately, before you could ask this man anything, his disappeared within seconds as well, leaving nothing but the memory of him as a trace that he was ever there. His presence left you with questions that ran rampant in your mind like mice in an abandoned home. That night, you left the engawa with more confusion than the solace you'd come to seek out in the quiet of the night.
"Father.. Is this marriage really necessary?"
"Yes. We've already talked about this, _______. It is final." The firm tone of your fathers voice was absolute. As his eldest daughter, this was your fate: To be married off to a wealthy landowner, therefore ensuring that you would live out a comfortable future. Truthfully, you family wasn't the wealthiest but you were more well off than the beggars in the streets. If anything, this marriage was a miracle.
It felt more like a curse though.
With a deep breath, you dismissed yourself from your fathers presence and headed to your room. Your mother did not utter a word to you, they all — including your younger sister — knew you were upset about the marriage. However, it seemed that they cared more about the benefits of your marriage than the way you felt about it. You suppose maybe you should too; You were only helping your family after all. It would be selfish to keep the fortune that awaited you from them, wouldn't it?
Your pushed open the shoji door and entered your room with quiet footsteps. Right now, all you needed was a distraction; You set up a canvas on the side of your wall, uncaring about the paint that would surely get everywhere. You wouldn't be living here for much longer anyway — What's a little paint spillage?
As you scattered paint over the blank canvas like the skilled painter you had become, your mind became clouded with thoughts of the day you met your now fiancé. The day had begun as any other; With your sister helping you carry the wagon that held your supplies into the village square, where tourists and newlyweds would often frequent. Here, you sold paintings fairly quickly which meant good business for your family. It was a simple occupation but it made a wonderful pastime, especially since you enjoyed the work so much.
Seeing smiles on the faces of couples and children made you happy, you didn't need anything else. Yet to your dismay, you caught the eye of a watchful wealthy man. To any other woman, it would have been the greatest thing that had ever happened to them; It would have been a fulfilling experience.
But you didn't need to be filled with anything — You were whole and happy.
But reality doesn't stop just because you're happy.
"Did you paint those yourself?"
Questions about your paintings always made you happy, so you smiled. "I did, actually. Would you like a custom painting? Maybe one for your wife?" This was a seller's question — not to be mistaken for someone who's interested in getting to know him. Unfortunately for you, this man did not distinguish between the two.
He laughs and dismisses your question. "I am unmarried. I have yet to find a suitable wife."
"I see. Maybe I could paint you something suited to your tastes instead?" You moved on quickly. Not because you were rude, but because this man's personal life was not of your concern.
But he cared not. "Suitable to my tastes.." he hums, "Then how about a self portrait?"
You chuckle, pulling out a blank canvas and adjusting it onto the easel. "Of yourself? That's quite a high self-esteem you've got."
He laughs at your question, like there's something you don't understand. "No, not of me."
"Then, who?"
"You."
It takes you a second to register the words this man has unashamedly spoken to you. And once it does, this feeling of disgust is born in the depths of your stomach. Was it supposed to be romantic? Because you could assure him that it wasn't.
You laugh awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. "Sorry. I don't do self portraits." Under the sleeves of your kimono, your fingernails dig crescent moons into your skin. Who was this stranger to make advances towards you? The man had sleek black hair that draped behind his back freely and a neat thin mustache that adorned the space above his upper lip. He wore linens of exquisite manufacturing and smelled clean.
From the moment this man approached your stand, you should have known he was not here with intentions you would agree with.
"Marry me," you repeat the words he spoke to you a week ago and scoffed at your impending marriage to him. You were angry, needless to say. Angry because all it took was a word about his status to your father to get him to agree to marrying you off. Angry because you knew you would not be seen as anything more than a decoration beside this man. Angry because you knew you should feel at least some form of gratitude at the fact that such a man looked upon you.
Your breaths began to grow ragged and your features distorted with anger. the black paint muddled in with the red you'd laid down prior. It looked like a bloody explosion, what you had painted. When the brush touched the canvas, you did not have a clear plan, but just looking at it you could tell it was a reflection of your emotions. Overcome with an urge to dispose of it, you got up from your place on the tatami mat and hauled the painting outside.
The afternoon had long since morphed into night and snow was falling again. It should have been calming but your anger had you clenching your jaw as your nails ripped through the canvas. Out on the engawa, you allowed angry hot tears to stream down your cheeks as you tore the piece to shreds. Your hands were stained from the paint but all you cared about was ripping every last piece of canvas off the wood it was attached to.
In the midst of your tantrum, you heard once again the sound from yesterday as clear as day: Fabric rustling against wood. "Who's there?" You called out. Could it be the man from two days ago? The one who practically saved your life without so much as a word? You hated this silence that you shared with an unknown stranger. You thought for a moment that it might be your soon to be husband but immediately shook the thought away from your mind — It seemed impossible, a man like him would not get his hands dirty even if it was for his future wife.
"You should know better than to stay out this late."
The deep voice of this stranger immediately ruled out the possibility of it being your fiancé, but it also confirmed the fact that you were being watched. Was he.. Human? Based off of what you had seen of him the last time- Wait, was he even the same stranger?
"Why did you save me?" you asked out into the open.
It was silent for a moment. "I did not feel like witnessing your death." You scoff at his words. It was a shallow and self-serving reason. Then again, you don't know what you expected. Your life wasn't some slow-burn, romance novel — this was reality.
"My apologies, I didn't know my death was such an inconvenience." Your tone is laced with sarcasm while you focus your eyes on the paint staining your arm. It hardened by now which allowed you to chip it off. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Why did you ruin that painting of yours?"
"Answer my question and I'll answer yours."
Kokushibo holds back the desire to chuckle. "Do you really want the answer to that, Human?" He wondered how you'd look upon realizing the man you spoke to wasn't a human himself. It seemed that you were aware enough to pick up on the words he used and the expression of realization washing over you was not lost on him; It was amusing. What would you do next?
".. I do." You answer. If you knew he was a demon, you weren't letting him know it explicitly.
"Since the beginning of the previous month."
You should have been afraid, like anyone else would have been if they knew they were speaking to a demon. Instead, you leaned your back against the wooden pillar beside you as if this was normal. "You don't have anything better to do?"
"That does not sound like the question I asked." He reminded.
"Oh. ..The painting." your eyes drifted back to the ruined canvas at your feet. "I didn't like it."
"That is the reason for which you tore it so viciously?"
You roll your eyes, "Please, it's not like it was a masterpiece of some sort. It was just a painting I hated."
"You do that to all the paintings you dislike?"
"Why do you ask so many questions? I should be asking you why you're even here." you looked towards the direction of his voice and wondered what he looked like. Would he be scary? Deformed like most demons are?
"You should be. However, something tells me you do not care to know that information."
"How would you know?"
"Need I remind you of the fact that I have been observing you?"
"Oh." You let out a humorless chuckle, "That."
There was an awkward silence between the two of you after that, with neither of you saying anything. Despite that silence though, you could still feel him there. For some reason his silent presence was more intimidating than when he spoke to you. You sigh and stand up, taking the shreds of your painting inside your room. It was getting late and you were due for a dinner with your fiancé tomorrow. And for that, you'd need all the rest you could get.
But before sliding your door closed, you looked back in the direction of the trees, where you had heard the demon's voice. "What's your name?"
Minutes passed and you began to wonder if he was still even there. Just before you slid your door completely closed, you heard his response.
"Kokushibo."
Onigiri and fish would have satisfied you on any other day. Rice balls tasted good when you made them for yourself as a snack before painting, it was a nostalgic type of food — one of your favorites, actually. Fish was savory and filled you during dinnertime with your family; When all of you shared conversations about your younger sister's new friend down the road, how your father had been able to hire more young men to work in his fields..
But today, the food and the conversation made you sick.
Not in the 'there was something wrong with it' type of sick, but the type of sickness that comes with faking enjoyment for the benefit of those at the table. Dinner was supposed to be going well. After all, in two months time, you'd be wed to the man you sat beside. So you should at least try and get to know him right?
Wrong.
You maintained a performative smile and spoke to him in a polite voice out of respect for your parents. You knew they only wanted the best for you, the least you could do was accept this miracle you'd been handed. "Is the food not to your liking, my Flower?" You resisted the urge to wince at the nickname he used. He would have been a nice man had he not made his intentions with you so blatant.
He didn't even court you like a man should; Jinsei needed only ask your mother and father for their blessing, which they gave freely after hearing of his status as a landowner.
"It's perfect, Jinsei. Thank you."
Jinsei's mother, Aiha, was a woman with hair as black as her sons long tresses were tied up in a neat bun which was held together by a golden hairpin. Her face was pristine and smooth with minimal wrinkles around her eyes. Her eyes were piercing blues that remained on you for the entire dinner. "You've found yourself a polite woman, Son. I'm grateful your search has been successful."
Jinsei smiles at his mother, his hand snaking around your waist comfortably and bringing you close to him as if to show you off like a decorative painting, "As am I. You should see her paintings, mother. They're absolutely exquisite; Her passion for artistry is what drew me in — It was like a dream when I laid my eyes upon her for the first time." He looks down at you tenderly with those blue eyes that resembled his mother's.
You part from him discreetly, feigning a cough as if something got stuck in your throat just to be released from his hold.
Aiha smiles at her son, "I can only imagine how wonderful it was to fall for such a beautiful woman." She then turns to you, a cup of green tea resting in her hands. "So, tell me, my daughter-in-law, why did you agree to his proposal?"
For my mother and father. "To be truthful, Miss Hirusanji, His persistence ultimately drew me in." You smile and feign a look of longing at your fiancé. "I want to make him as happy as he makes me."
"They're adorable, aren't they?" Your mother gushes to your father who only looks at the two of you with a warm gaze. Seriously, you couldn't believe that they were buying this act of yours. It made you feel disgusted to be someone you weren't in front of everyone sitting at this table. But so was the price of a comfortable future, was it not?
The dinner continued with both your family and the Hirusanji family getting to know each other. Both of your mothers seemed to be the most content about this marriage so you guessed that the deal was pretty much sealed. There was no way out of it no matter how much you tried to ask them about it.
When you arrived home, you were the first to break the silence.
"Can you both explain to me why this marriage is necessary?"
Your father sighs tiredly and your mother turns to hold your hands. "Honey, we want to see you live your life comfortably with a nice man. Your father and I don't want to see you struggle with our burdens, it would be much more-"
You took your hands from her, "But I don't care about any of that..! I don't mind sharing in your struggle and helping the two of you like I have been my entire life!"
"Helping me work the fields isn't the life I want for my daughter!" Your father erupted. "Maybe you fail to see it now, but ten years from now you'll be thankful for the man you'll soon have at your side. I can guarantee it."
Tears spilled down your cheeks, "Why do you disregard what I want for my own life? Has it not ever occurred to you that perhaps I find fulfillment in the life I already lead?"
"You're foolish if you believe that this life of struggle is better than the life of comfort that is being offered to you. Have you no gratitude? We accepted his proposal because we love you."
"If you loved me, you wouldn't wed me to a man I know nothing about; A man whom I do not love." you clarified, looking into your fathers eyes with disdain in them.
"Even if you don't love him now, dear.. You can learn to love him, can't you? He's a generous man and you'll be more than well off with him. Think about the future, this is a good thing." Your mother tries to ease the tension but you can't find it in you to capitulate. You were never an easy daughter and you wouldn't begin being one now.
You scoff and storm off into your room without a word. You had nothing to say to them, nothing that would change their minds about it anyway.
.
.
.
You sat out in the engawa, watching the sun set and waiting for the moon to arrive.
This marriage.. It wasn't at all what you wanted. Your heart was dedicated to your artistry, your creativity and your ability to make others happy with it. You found happiness in the simple art of expression. If you were to marry, all of your achievements would be attributed to your husband — This was a fact. Jinsei was a decent man and yes, he was blessed with riches, but that alone did not mean you would allow him to take your individuality in exchange for money — It wasn't who you were.
After about an hour of waiting for the moon to come down, you decided to quickly venture out and retrieve two apples as a snack. You cut them as you sat on the engawa, leaning on the pillar while you separated the apple skins from flesh. A few minutes later and you heard the familiar sound of fabric against wood.
Without looking upwards, you spoke, "Kokushibo?"
A minute passes, "_______."
"Wonderful night we're having, huh?"
"Agreed."
You cut a slice of apple and take a bite of it. "I'm getting married in a month."
".. Are you?"
You nod, despite not knowing if he can even see you. Somehow, you think he does. "Yup, so you'll have to find somebody else to stalk."
"I was not stalking you."
You chuckle, "Right, you 'observe'." Like that's any different.
Kokushibo, despite not being quite the talkative man, he sure likes hearing you speak. Or at least, that's what you think since he hasn't stated his actual reason for being here constantly now for two nights in a row — that and he hasn't told you to shut up yet.
"You're a demon, right?"
"Yes."
"Why haven't you eaten me yet?"
"That's a gruesome question for a bride-to-be."
You frown, "Don't remind me."
He says nothing but notes your disdain towards the mention of your impending marriage.
"Why do you make it a habit to watch me?"
"Ask me anything else." Kokushibo says, as if he was annoyed by the type of questions you were asking; The type that assumed a relationship between he and you.
The skin of the apple falls onto the dish you laid out while you cut through the second apple, "Tell me something about yourself."
"Why should I do that?"
"I'm not keen on conversing with strangers."
"It would be in your best interest to think of me as nothing but a stranger. I am a demon after all."
His words caused the light to momentarily leave your eyes, your expression darkening slightly. "You know, I'm sick of people telling me what's in my best interest." In your anger, you fail to notice the sharp end of the knife cutting through the flesh of the skin and slicing a shallow cut into your thumb. You wince at first but instead of going to wrap it up, you simply stuff the digit into your mouth and lick it clean. "It's annoying, having people tell me what I should do, as if I'm incapable of making good decisions for myself."
Kokushibo smells your blood from his place hidden in the trees. It's a sweet aroma, he notes. "Is that why you're unsatisfied with the marriage?" He asks, his eyes narrowing at you. He can see you clearly even as the snow falls outside.
"I'm more than unsatisfied. I'm angry," you admit, looking at your thumb to check if the bleeding stopped. ".. The painting you asked about yesterday — the one I destroyed .. I ripped it up because I was angry." At this point, Kokushibo was just letting you air out your emotions to him. He wasn't speaking back to you but instead was listening to you.. and it made you a little relieved to think about it, even if he was a man-eating demon.
"..My whole life, I've done nothing but support my parents, even when they struggled. I helped mother cook and clean, I've taken care of my sister when mother and father couldn't — I've helped make money for our family.. My entire life, I've asked for nothing in return because I was happy doing it." Your throat closes up and you feel tears sting your eyes. "I was happy with painting and seeing the smiles on the people that would buy them; I was happy at home.." you sob, wiping your tears hastily. Desperate to get rid of them, "-and I'm tired of crying about it so much when I know there's nothing else I can do about it..!" Frustrated sobs wrack through your body and you find it hard to stop once you've already started.
You seldom cried in front of people, even your own family. It was strange that you felt so comfortable doing it in front of a demon who could definitely eat you for lunch — or dinner for that matter.
Kokushibo is not really a people person, so you can guess why the demon just watched you as you cried, not really knowing what to do. He wasn't sure what you'd do if you actually saw him — not that you hadn't already, but that was different. "I'm assuming your parents were not receptive to your feelings on the matter."
"You assume correctly.." you tell him, your sobs turning to sniffles and the skin around your eyes was no doubt raw from you rubbing them with your kimono. After a moment, you begin to laugh which confuses the demon that's still watching you from afar.
"Why are you laughing?"
You're still giggling through your sniffles when you explain, "Sorry, it's just.. It's a little funny that I'm telling all of this to you.. You could kill me at any moment and yet I'm talking your ear off about my marriage."
"I will not kill you."
You smile slightly in the direction of his voice. "I'm not afraid of that happening.. You don't seem to want to hurt me."
Kokushibo scoffs, "Do you normally make it a point to converse with demons?"
"No, not usually. Though I guess I probably shouldn't make it a habit, huh?"
"Either you're incredibly naive, or you've no self-preservation skills. Or both." Kokushibo points out, as if he's disappointed.
Your next words, however, wipe that look of disapproval off of his face.
"I don't think I have to worry about self-preservation when I've got you watching over me, Kokushibo."
For the next three and a half weeks, your talks with Kokushibo persisted.
Late into the night, you'd be talking with the demon well into the hours of the morning. The cloudy skies kept him from falling victim to the sun but still, you did not manage to catch a glimpse of what he looked like. Despite that, you grew to have a sort of warm feeling for the man that would listen to you rant about quite literally anything.
You could be complaining about something that happened during the day or explaining a new painting technique you learned and he'd be willing to listen every time. He didn't even stop you when you spoke of your dates with your fiancé — not that you expected him to feel some type of way about such things, it's not like he could feel things like that, you think.
"Jinsei isn't a bad guy, at least, from what I've seen so far.. But I still don't think I would like to marry him. You know?" Currently, you were in the backyard of your home, painting on the canvas positioned on an easel you'd set up before sunset. You wanted to paint the sky at night because the moon would be full tonight.
"The ceremony is in three days.."
Your brush halts, hovering over the canvas and you sigh. ".. I know."
"How.. Are you feeling?" Kokushibo would have never asked this question before, but the time he's spent with you reminded him of his human habits — habits he had long forgotten even existed. It was strange, to feel this way about you; He wasn't sure he would feel things like this after he became a demon. But it seemed that becoming a supernatural being did not save him from feeling the warmth of passion or the sting of envy — in fact, it amplified those pesky feelings of his.
Maybe that's why he had gotten so comfortable asking you such frivolous questions.
".. I don't know." your voice was quiet, but he heard you still. "My heart is heavy.." you let out a tired sigh, "Kokushibo?" You set your supplies down on the small table and turn in the direction of his voice, where he always is.
"Hm?"
He watches you turn around, noticing the conflicted look on your face. "Ca.. Can I see you?"
The question catches him off guard. It's understandable that after about two months of constant talking, you'd want to see him — but he didn't think about what he would do once you actually asked him. How would you react? I mean, it's not like you didn't know he was a demon but.. He mentally groans at his hesitation. Was he.. nervous?
Impossible.
The soft sound of rustling leaves and the all-too-familiar sound of fabric against wood travels to your ears and you find your heart beating a little faster. The cold night air kept your hards from getting clammy but that didn't stop you from getting goosebumps once he appeared before you. Your gaze traveled from his black hakama and up, up, up, to the visage of the man you'd grown to be more than acquainted with for the past two months.
His eyes — he had six of them, three on each side — were a striking yellow with kanji written over the two middle ones; His sclera was the color of a vibrant crimson rose. His skin was pale and looked smooth, you almost felt compelled to reach out and touch it. You were quick to notice the scarring on his forehead which trailed down until his lower sets of eyes and continued on his right side down to his neck where it disappeared.
His long hair and the purple kimono he wore you remembered from the day you first saw him. The more you took him in, the less nervous you became. He looked awfully human, then again, the only other demon you ever saw was the one he struck down. Still.. it brought a sort of warmth to know he was real.
That you hadn't gone crazy and started talking to random voices hidden in the wind.
".. Hi." you pause, "Wait, that was awkward- I mean.. um, It's nice to finally meet you..?" The statement came out as a question, you could thank your lack of people skills for that.
He resists the urge to laugh at your awkwardness. It was kind of adorable, the way you were so nervous about the ordeal — It seemed as if you'd forgotten what the two of you were talking about before you asked to see him.
"Did you have a goal when you asked to see me?"
His voice was deep. Not that you didn't already know, but that didn't stop it from leaving goosebumps on your skin. Hearing it this close was.. weird.
"Oh, that.." you gathered yourself and avoided his gaze, "I guess I.. just wanted to see you before, you know, before I get married."
".. I see." It was strange to feel so.. protective over you — perhaps it was because you were a fragile human.
"Will you come see me, even after I'm married..?" It was your way of asking if he would leave you. To want to be close to a demon was not something you ever thought could happen, much less to you.
But Kokushibo was kind.
He listened to you ramble on about your days: About your human affairs. He lent you an ear when feelings concerning your marriage got especially hard to deal with on your own. Every night, without fail, if you called out to him — he would always respond. He would always be there.
"Why would that matter to me?" Kokushibo asked. It made your heart flutter.
You look up at him with a surprised look, "I.. I won't be living here anymore, that's why I.."
He doesn't smile, doesn't chuckle — But even then, his words manage to warm the edges of your soul.
"I shall follow you wherever you go, no matter the place."
It should've been creepy. Should've scared you off and intimidated you knowing that this demon would not leave you alone even if you were to leave the home town he met you in. For Kokushibo, the only constant place he ever 'lived' in was Muzan's castle. Though you're comparing him to a regular human man, which made Kokushibo do away with the confusion he initially felt upon hearing your question.
Maybe a human man would have felt some sort of pain upon the prospect of knowing you would be wed and soon leave this place, but to a demon? Borders such as those did not apply. It would be erroneous on your part to think that rules applying to men of your world would apply to a supernatural being such as he.
Nonetheless, Kokushibo did not tell you so and instead relished in the warmth radiating from your cheeks. You were so far away, but he could feel it regardless of that fact.
You sigh in relief and reach out to take his cold hand in your warmer ones. You then proceeded to hold it to your chest, as if it was some sacred treasure.
"Thank you, Kokushibo. I'm happy to have met you."
In last two nights leading up to your wedding, Kokushibo made it a point to sit beside you on the engawa instead of conversating with you from afar like he had been doing for the past two months. Tonight, the night before your wedding, you were all kinds of nervous and Kokushibo unfortunately was the witness to your endless (and very nonsensical) worries.
"What if I trip on my kimono and fall in front of everyone during the ceremony? Or worse, what if I spill sake during the San-San-Kudo??" You let out a groan and curl into yourself, your knees pressed against to your chest as your head leaned on Kokushibo's shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It shouldn't be.
"Everything will go accordingly." He tells you, his voice confident like you're not clumsy in front of the public on a daily basis. "I am sure of it."
"You don't know that! I could say the wrong thing or- or embarrass myself in front of his entire family!" Your worried eyes shut at the thought of messing up and you don't know it, but Kokushibo thinks its adorable how much you care about a wedding you didn't even want.
"Your fears are irrational."
"Pleaase, keep stating the obvious, Koku."
The nickname causes him to turn and look down at you, who isn't looking at him but instead at the snow. "Koku?"
You nod, "Yeah. It's a cute nickname, don't you think?"
"Cute?" This draws him further into the depths of confusion. Kokushibo was not 'cute', he was a man-eating demon that has killed thousands. The blood of innocents are on his hands and yet you dare equate a ruthless, powerful being like him to the softest adjective in your vocabulary? It should insult him to be seen in such a childish way by you.
Key word: should.
However, in the time he's taken to observe you and remain in your presence, he realizes that there are many things that should be, that aren't. Like the way you so casually hold his hand when you sneak out of your family home, eager to walk with him through empty forest trails. Or when you ask to braid his hair during his last few nightly visits like he isn't an arbiter of destruction.
You should be scared of the man you're next to you and yet instead, you lean your head on his shoulder and snake your arm around his as if he's a pillow of some sort.
"I am not cute." Kokushibo says simply. It's a fact.
You look up at him, leaning up to place your chin on his shoulder; Your faces too close to one another. Closer than a demon and a human should ever be. Your scent was sweet; Like that of Moon Cake. "You are cute, you're just in denial."
"Denial? It's an irrefutable fact. I have killed thousands and even demons fear my name. You would be a foolish woman to think of me as anything other than what I am."
"Then I guess I'm a foolish woman." you smirk, eyes locked with his as if everything else melted away and it was just the two of you. A solid minute passes but it feels like a lifetime; Until Kokushibo clears his throat and begins to speak again.
"..Speaking of foolishness.." He reaches into his side, where is Katana would usually lay; Except his Katana is at his side on the floor, so it must be something else. Your eyes widen when he presents you with a fan. A Sensu fan to be exact. "I know you would rather not think of it, but.. I acquired this for you. Think of it as a wedding gift."
Your eyes widened while you took it into your hands, your hold delicate as if it would break if you applied any more pressure. "Kokushibo.. This is so thoughtful, I- ..Thank you..!" You're still holding the fan when you reach up to envelop him in your embrace. Your arms feel soft and delicate around him; Instinctively, one of his palms immediately goes flat on the floor behind him to hold him up so he wont fall from the impact of your embrace, his other snakes around your middle and holds you close to him.
You're draped over him like a blanket, hot tears falling from your eyes and a bright smile on your face like he's just given you the world. You feel so freely around him; It makes him feel almost as if he's human again, weirdly enough.
After a moment, you pull yourself off and wipe your tears, "Sorry, I didn't mean to cry all over you, it's just.. I don't know. ..I feel happy when I'm with you.. Safe." You're not looking at him anymore but there's an evident warmth on your cheeks. You seem like you're glowing, like the light of a star enveloped by night.. and it's then that he realizes the weight of what it meant for you to marry.
You would inherit the role of a dutiful wife; You would by unhappy, surely. Kokushibo knew this because you hated doing what others told you to, even if you ended up succumbing to expectations out of the kindness of your own heart. You hated being someone you weren't and this marriage would go against every aspect of your core being.
And yet, he could not tell you to say no.
He wouldn't because it was not who he was.
Yes, he was powerful and ruthless; A force to be reckoned with — but he would never violate your wishes in exchange for his own pleasure unless you allowed him that selfishness. He respected you too much to whisk you away and claim you for himself without your consent.
"You should get some rest." Kokushibo says, his tone quiet and his voice softer than usual.
You shook your head softly, looking at the fan and opening it to admire it. "I don't want tonight to end."
His hand squeezes the fabric on your waist ever so slightly, you would have missed it if you weren't hyper-aware of your surroundings when you were with him. It makes the heat rush to your face and shivers run down your spine in a way you haven't experienced before.
Somehow, in the months you've known Kokushibo, he's made you feel things not even your fiancé manages to make you feel.
Could it be possible to have feelings for a demon?
No.. that would be unheard of.
Time passes and you somehow end up falling asleep on his shoulder, curling into him as if he'd disappear if you let go. Kokushibo must have tucked you in because when you awoke, your shoji door was closed, you were tucked into your futon with the Sensu fan at your side.
"You look so beautiful, dear! Jinsei will be delighted to see you." Your mother looked upon your face full of makeup; You were already dressed in your Shiro-muku Kimono and ready for the ceremony — at least in the physical sense. Mentally, you were absent and actively trying not to think about the whole thing at all.
This was for your family.
"I'm sure he will be." You smile slightly at your mother.
She begins to tear up and you only sigh, "Mother, please. It's not that big of a deal.."
"'Not that big of a deal'? My eldest is getting married!" Your mother smiles and wipes her tears, "I'm happy for you, my daughter. Even if this wasn't your wish.. I pray you two will find love in one another and stay together for many years." Her hands come up to caress your face. You want to cry but you can't — and not because you're happy, but because you're mourning the death of your freedom.
"I hope so too.." you lie, your voice quiet.
.
.
.
".. My dear wife, I vow to make you happy all the days of your life. I will make sure you lack nothing and that your days are filled with nothing but love, peace and happiness. I pray to the gods that we may live in harmony and love for this year and the years to come. _______, you are the most beautiful woman I .."
Your now-husband Jinseo's vows should have made you fill with warmth and appreciation — yet all you could think about was whether or not you would see Kokushibo tonight.
It was shameful, you know, but you couldn't help it!
Not when you still felt the delicacy of his hand on your waist, or the soft kiss of his breath on your skin, or the Sensu fan he had given you before — one with the design of purple orchids and white roses. The gods would surely punish you for thinking of another man at your own wedding, there was no way you'd be forgiven for it. But it's not as if you wanted this wedding anyway so maybe punishment isn't so bad.
After the San-San-Kudo, the wedding vows, and other rituals were completed, you left with Jinsei — Now your husband — to the new place where you would now reside. When the two of you arrived in a carriage pulled by horses, you were bewildered. You had never seen a vehicle such as that and Jinsei's home was also different to your own. It was more modern and less familiar to you. Gone were the shoji doors and tatami mats you were so used to — Yes, this place felt completely foreign to you.
It was even worse when you were led into a room, your hand being held by your husband. "I'm sure you're tired," Jinseo began, "This is the bathroom, the housekeeper has laid out a change of clothes for you, my flower."
Your brows knitted together. All of this was so confusing and new; The place you lived in now was near a bustling city that seemed to glow even at night. The scent of nature and vegetation was replaced by strong sweet smells and other things you couldn't even discern. It had not even been a single day and you were already feeling that familiar pit in your stomach from such a strange environment.
Would Kokushibo even manage to find you?
With a weary sigh and a heavy heart, you shed your wedding kimono and took the floral yukata in your hands. It was pink and adorned in flowers; It would have been beautiful under different circumstances. Regardless of your feelings, you continued on and soon emerged from the bathroom. You tried to find your room, but before then you were busy getting lost in every corridor of this two-story house. There were many rooms, all had already been furnished but everything seemed new.
"Flower!" Jinseo called out to you with a smile on his face. When he stood before you, he cupped your cheek, "Did you get lost?"
"This house is different from the one I lived in…" you explained. Jinsei laughs and his thumb caresses the skin of your cheek back and forth — You wished to pull back but didn't.
His hand falls from your face to grab your own, "Ah, I see. I can show you everything tomorrow, yes? You must be tired. Why don't we get some rest, hm?"
You nod and follow him, your wedding clothes still in your arms while he leads you down a corridor. When he opens the door, it leads to an ostentatious room; It's huge — bigger than the room you had back home — there was a balcony near the bed and wait .. there's only one bed.
"We- uh .. we'll sleep together ..?" You hated how meek your voice sounded.
"Don't be shy my flower," Jinsei coos, holding your hand and leading you into the room. "You'll get used to it soon enough." Yes, it had gone over your head that because he was now your husband, you would probably have to be more intimate, but that wasn't your concern upon seeing the king-sized bed.
How were you supposed to speak to Kokushibo if he was here with you all the time?
You'd have to be careful, it seemed.
Soon enough, you found yourself tucked away in the large bed with an extremely handsy man at your side. His arms enveloped you, like a snake choking its prey. Not at all like when Kokushibo held you yesterday. Really, you shouldn't be comparing your demon .. friend, to your human husband, but still.
At every turn, it seemed that Kokushibo stood leagues above your husband. Maybe it was because you weren't as comfortable with your husband as you were with Kokushibo. Dates with Jinsei were always.. ordinary. It felt more like a routine than a romantic date between two people. No matter how many flowers he bought you, or how many pieces of expensive jewelry he could give you, not one of those gifts compared to the Sensu fan that Kokushibo gifted you.
Before you could think more about Kokushibo's role in your heart life, you heard a sound near by the window — the balcony.
Curiously, you turned and carefully lifted your husband's arm off of your stomach. Jinsei seemed to be a heavy sleeper, so he couldn't hear the sound you had heard seconds before. In the span of a few minutes, you were free from his grasp and you slowly walked to the doors leading out to the balcony. Once you twisted the knob and pushed forward, you looked around the area to see.. nothing.
You searched around for something that could have made the noise but it was only until the door closed behind you that you looked behind you.
And there, underneath the moonlight, you were met with Kokushibo's tall figure looming over you.
Excitedly, you lunged upward to embrace him, your arms around his middle with your cheek pressed against his chest. "I didn't think you'd find me..!" You were whispering so as to not wake up your husband.
"You underestimate me." Kokushibo states, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His fingers were cold and you could feel his nails grazing your skin but it brought you immense comfort. "There is nowhere you could go that I would not find you."
You smile and hug him tighter, as if you're afraid he'll disappear if you let go. In the blink of an eye, Kokushibo's arm circles around your waist and presses you close to him to jump off of the balcony. You let out a squeal once you realize what's happening, "Kokushibo! What are you doing?!" You hold him tight, afraid he might drop you as he jumps from building to building. Your adrenaline spikes up and you don't know whether to feel excited or scared — you think both maybe.
"I won't drop you."
"You better not!" You yelp, burying your face into the fabric of his kimono.
"Do you distrust me that much?" he chuckles to himself, not noticing the way your gaze grows warm from hearing the sound of his laugh. It's the first time you've heard it. It distracts you so much that you forget to respond to him until he looks down at your starstruck expression. "What is it?"
You blink and look away, your cheeks feeling warm. "You laughed.."
"…" Kokushibo remains silent; He's bashful that you pointed it out — That you noticed, but he doesn't show it. After a few minutes, he finally stops jumping from building to building. He lets you gain footing before letting you go, but even then, his hand doesn't leave your own.
"Where.. are we?" You held his hand tightly and stood close to him — You've never stood atop a roof before so you were still afraid of falling. The city below was bustling and lively; You kind of wished you could walk the streets with him, but his appearance would surely draw attention.
You look up to him, only to see that he's already gazing down at you, his upper and lower eyes closed. It makes him look more human and it almost makes you melt when you consider he might be doing it to make you see him as less of a demon and more of a human. "There are fireworks.. It's still your wedding after all, you should celebrate."
But when the fireworks start to light up into the sky, you pull him down to your level and place a chaste kiss on his forehead. It catches him completely off guard and for a moment, you think you've done something wrong with the way he stays frozen in place. "I'm sorry..! I um, I don't know what came over me, I just.. you're being so kind to me- you've been kind to me and I just.. It made me happy.."
Kokushibo blinks and watches you fret over a mere kiss as if you've done something grave to anger him. He thinks you're adorable, over explaining yourself like this like any of it matters. His hand comes up again to cup your jaw and his golden eyes flicker to your lips and then back to your eyes; It was as if he was asking for your permission to kiss you. He leans in and his breath ghosts over your lips but he doesn't go any further, waiting for you to give him your consent.
You tilt your head upwards and close your eyes when you close the space between his lips and yours. Its slow at first and you follow his lead because you've never kissed someone before, which he takes note of. He deepens the kiss by angling your head to the side, you whimper at the feel of his tongue swiping across your lower lip. "Koku.." you sigh, your hands gripping the fabric of his sleeves slightly while he keeps kissing you.
His tongue brushes over yours, earning a whine from you that frankly made you embarrassed; Kokushibo was making you feel and do things that you never had done before, it made you nervous.. and maybe a little excited — Which you shouldn't be, because your husband was laying on the bed you both shared, only a few blocks away. Your skin started to feel warm the longer you kept making out with him; His lips were addictive — You almost forgot he probably ate humans with that same mouth.
He pulled apart from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your mouths until it snapped, leaving your lips glossy and breathless. Your cheeks were still warm and you were all of a sudden bashful after what you had done with him. "Uhm.." your hands still held onto his sleeve.
"Are you ..alright?" Kokushibo's voice is more gentle, almost like a deep whisper only meant for you.
"Mhm..!" You nod, "It's just, well.. I've never kissed anyone before, so.."
It would be a lie if Kokushibo said it didn't fill him with pride to know he was your first. He found his desire to have you growing by the minute — It was dangerous to feel this way, especially about you since you were already married to someone else.. But Kokushibo then realized that the legality of it didn't really apply to him, for he wasn't a human in the first place.
Why should he care? It wasn't as if you loved the man you were wed to, and you leaned into the kiss as well, so that must have meant you wanted him too.
"Did you enjoy it?" Kokushibo asks, completely unaware of how nervous he's making you feel.
"I, ah.. I did.." you say quietly, still not looking up at him.
The sound of a firework popping in the air broke the two of you out of your little bubble. After the firework show had stopped, Kokushibo did you the favor of returning you home, but not without a tight hug and a kiss that you yourself had requested of him.
After around the fifth month of you being married to Jinsei and seeing Kokushibo during the nights, you noticed that your husband was getting increasingly irritated with you. You refused to sleep with him and would rarely kiss him; You acted like a wife in all other aspects but when it came to having access to your body, Jinsei had none. You could understand him because it was normal for a husband to want his wife, but you were only his wife by title. Your heart belonged to another and your understanding of him would not change this fact.
It was honestly a miracle that you had managed to keep your relationship to Kokushibo under wraps for this long because when you were going to see Kokushibo again at the beginning of the night like you usually do.. Well, your husband wasn't exactly having it.
You took Jinsei's arm off of your stomach, like you usually did and waited for a moment before leaving the bed entirely. Just as you were turning the knob and pushing the door outward, the voice of your husband made chills run down your spine.
"_______."
Your eyes widen and you feel a cold shiver run all over your body; Starting in your stomach and spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes. ".. Jinsei?"
"What is it that you're doing?"
"I'm getting some air." You lied through your teeth as best as you could. It was logical and he shouldn't suspect anything.
"Is that right?"
"Yes, Jinsei." You said as you began walking out in the hopes that he'd leave it alone.
But arrogant rich men like him don't exactly like being left as if they were nothing more than an afterthought by their wives, now do they?
You close the door and pray he goes back to bed so you can see Kokushibo like you always do, but your husband pulls the door open and snakes his warm hands around your waist, laying his chin on the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. You freeze in place and feel that familiar twinge of anxiety well up in your stomach. You felt suffocated under his touch, like you couldn't breathe when he caged you in like this.
"What are you doing, Jinsei?"
"What, I can't hold my wife?" Its a rhetorical question. One he doesn't expect you to answer — and you don't. Instead, you freeze in his hold and his hands keep messing with the obi of your yukata. "I think.. it's about time we consummate our marriage, don't you think, my flower?"
Your blood runs cold in your veins. "J-Jinsei, We've talked about this.. I'm just-"
"-'Not ready yet'? Are you going to use that same excuse? Flower, I've upheld all of my vows and taken care of you and your family, don't you think you can do something for me, too?" His voice is playful but the situation is anything but.
You wanted your first time to be shared with someone you love.. why did none of your wishes ever matter to anyone?
Just when you were about to succumb to someone else's desires, yet again — Kokushibo appeared in front of you, his body in between the railing of the balcony and you. A glimmer of hope returned to your eyes upon seeing him, but fear quickly settled in. Not because of him, but because your husband would surely find out about Kokushibo and you.
"Wha-?! What the hell are you?!" Jinsei immediately pulled you behind him — no longer focused on his desire — and confronted the demon that loomed over him unwaveringly. Kokushibo paid your husband no mind and instead directed his gaze towards you. Jinsei stepped in front of you to get his attention. "Look at me, Not her!" Jinsei arrogantly confronts Kokushibo and you almost begin to feel a sort of fear for him. Yes, you disliked your husband immensely, but it wasn't as if you wanted him to suffer — especially not at the hands of your .. You couldn't even call him your friend because friends did not kiss you as passionately as Kokushibo did— Hell, friends didn't kiss at all!
But you couldn't worry about what Kokushibo was to you right now, your husband's life was in danger, you knew that much just from the expression Kokushibo wore. He wasn't angry, but you knew what his calm demeanor looked like — and it wasn't like that.
You yank on the sleeve his yukata, "Please, don't do anything rash — Let me handle it. Please."
"Stubborn woman, You can't possibly—!"
"I'm not talking to you." you say, brushing him to the side and stepping forward to put yourself in between Kokushibo and your husband. "Don't do anything, I'll.. I'll handle him and see you tomorrow night, okay?"
Your husband let out a low grunt and pulled you back against his body, his arms circling your waist and keeping your back pressed to his chest. "Just what the hell is going on? Do you know him?"
You squirm against him, "That's none of your—!"
"Release her." Kokushibo's deep tone sends shivers down your spine and you can tell it shakes your husband as well because his hands start to shake.
"Kokushibo, please." you plead, your frantic eyes meeting the two middle sets of his eyes. You notice his hand rests on the scabbard of his Katana, the click of the sword separating from its sheath terrifies you.
"I will not leave you with the likes of him."
"Then take me with you— but leave him breathing." You weren't sure then of the words you were saying, but you had just given Kokushibo your full permission to be selfish without even knowing it.
The click of Kokushibo's sword against the hilt of the sheath brought you relief, "Very well."
"Hey! Wait, you can't make that decision by yourself!" Jinsei reaches for your hand, desperate to get you back in his vicinity as he watches you walk towards the demon. "You're my wife!"
You were about to turn to respond to him; To tell him that he should just accept it, that he should forget about you. Yet as soon as you begin to turn your head, the sound of a sword unsheathing fills your ears and in a flash, your husband's hand comes clean off of his wrist. At the same time that blood spills from his wound, you're pulled back with a strong arm around your waist. Before you can even react, you're lifted off of your balcony.
Hot tears pricked your vision and a multitude of emotions washed over you as Kokushibo jumped from building to building. "What.. What did you do? Kokushibo, Why?!" You yelped, speaking through your tears. "I told you not to hurt him!"
"You told me to leave him breathing." Kokushibo responds, carrying your crying self away from the city and into the forest. Despite how distraught you were, you made no movements to get away from him — To him, that was already a victory in and of itself.
"That's—! You know what I meant! He's not like you, he can't regenerate limbs!" Your holding onto him tight as if you don't know that there isn't a way a hell he'd ever drop you. Kokushibo relishes the feeling of your physical dependence on him, but he doesn't let you know that.
"He should be grateful I only cut one of them."
"He won't be able to live like before! What'll happen to my parents if he decides to retaliate?! You can't just do this without thinking!"
"No harm shall come to your loved ones, I guarantee it."
"How do you know that?!"
"If he ceases to exist, he cannot inflict damage upon them." Your lips are slightly open and your eyes are widening. Right.. He was a demon. How could you have forgotten such an important detail? How could you have been so careless as to forget that you had made friends with a supernatural being who saw humans as nothing more than sustenance?
But.. Kokushibo had never been that way towards you, So why?
You said nothing more to him, deciding instead to hold onto him and hide your face in the fabric of his kimono. For some reason, its scent was comforting despite the situation you now found yourself in. All you could feel then was Kokushibo's strong hold on you and the wind that kissed your skin.
.
.
.
When you awoke, you were in a strange place.
It resembled the room you used to live in; With traditional shoji doors and tatami mats.. But something was off. The room was lit dimly with intricately crafted lanterns. You were tucked into a futon when you first awoke but after getting up, you were starting to get a weird feeling. You then remembered what had happened last night and looked around for Kokushibo to confront him about this place.
It was then that you noticed that he was sat in the middle of the floor with his back turned to you. You bit your bottom lip nervously and walked towards him, your footsteps cautious and quiet. You noticed his eyes were closed the more you moved closer to him, was he meditating?
".. Kokushibo?" Your voice was quiet and a little hoarse from the night before.
His eyes opened slowly and they drifted towards you, watching as you sat beside him. "Speak your mind."
"I'm sorry for yelling at you.. I know you just wanted to protect me." Your gaze was downcast and you failed to even look at him. More importantly, it seemed that you understood why he had done what he did during the night before. It was true, he wanted to protect you. He knew that your husband was about to manipulate your kind heart into giving him whatever he wanted that night. Kokushibo knew well how guilty you felt about being married to another man and yet still choosing to see him.
But it seemed that you severely underestimated the lengths he was willing to go through to make sure your heart belonged to him and him only. Your kindness and ability to give the benefit of the doubt to others was you downfall, but don't worry. He's here to protect you after all; You and your kind heart.
"..Are you upset with me?" you asked him meekly. You looked so vulnerable, sitting beside him so ashamed of your own reasonable anger at him. It was normal that you should feel concern, but here.. here, you were completely putting his feelings above your own.
"I could never be upset with you." Kokushibo said, his gaze softening slightly and laying his hand atop your head. It was then that you looked up, your gaze brighter now and a slight smile on your face.
"I'm glad to hear that, Koku." You then slip your arms around his middle and hold him close to you, as if you'd missed him or something of that sort. "I guess.. I don't have to worry about him finding out now.. I hope he can find someone else, someone who can genuinely love him."
Kokushibo admired your optimism.
You had no way of knowing that Kokushibo was the death that did the two of you part.
See, while legality did not apply to a demon like Kokushibo — he was still an old-fashioned man. There was no way he was going to let that sorry excuse for a husband walk free after the events of the night before. You didn't have to know that yet, though. For now, he'd receive your warm embrace like you were the only being that mattered.
He pulled you closer so that you sat in his lap which you did not protest. Cupping his jaw, you leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. It was soft and slow; A kiss that he would engrave into his mind for years to come.
You pulled apart after a few minutes, smiling and breathless.
"Oh, I wanted to ask you — What is this place?" Your sight drifts to the room around you. "It's different.."
Kokushibo holds your chin in between his index finger and thumb.
"You need not worry about such things.. Just know that you are safe with me."
Idk if you read Kimetsu gakuen if you have can I request mui x fem!reader when he has a crush on a girl who's personality is very loud and upbeat and energetic. I think that type of personality would mesh well with his type. Like maybe they meet through Tanjiro and become good friends
Muichiro [x Reader]
In which you transfer to his school mid-year, and something about your positivity is magnetic.
Reader is ── Female | Human
Story is ── Romantic | Kimetsu Academy AU
Warnings | N/A
✦ ── Everyone gets infatuated when there's a new girl, but not Muichiro; he could care less about his peers, so why would you be any different?
✦ ── Everyone gets infatuated when there's a new girl, but not Muichiro; he could care less about his peers, so why would you be any different?
✦ ── You're sat next to him by the teacher, and with an unwavering optimism and interest in knowing everyone around you, he can't help but talk to you a bit
✦ ── It was your interest in his paper plane making that got him hooked; even if he stated with certainty you'd never make a better plane than him, you still wanted to try every recess
✦ ── When others would join you'd team with him, he folds while you picked the pattern and decorated it
✦ ── Muichiro picks up on your optimism, but only to reflect it back at you whenever you're feeling down or worse than usual
✦ ── Of course he knows he has some sort of interest in you that surpasses anyone else, but he isn't going to think too hard about it so long as you're close friends
✦ ── He knows you'll be sitting next to him everyday, trading parts of your lunches for things the other likes, doing homework in the library after school
"Mui, trade?" You pointed at his portion of rice, the same sheepish smile on your face as was always there when you didn't want something in your school meal.
He nodded, handing you the bowl, and pointed back at the main course on your tray.
"Yeah, I don't like radishes; take them."
✦ ── You and his twin seem to have a fake rivalry going on, usually fighting for Mui's attention until you give up and share it instead
✦ ── Does not have the heart to tell his brother that he sees him much more than you since they, you know, live together, and likes having time with just you
✦ ── One of your habits together is fixing each other's uniforms right before school, since they're so strict about it
✦ ── Outside of school you guys frequent Kotetsu's parents' pizzeria to hang out with him and have dinner together (usually with Kotetsu, both twins, and yourself) and talk about all your classes
The same wood-fired pizza you always had was in the middle of the table, freshly steaming and dividing the four at the table. Most of you wouldn't touch it until it cooled down more.
Mui was the first to grab a slice, aiming for the biggest and sliding it on your plate for you, then taking the second largest slice as his own.
"No fair, you can't burn yourself just to get whatever you want!" Poor Kotetsu.
✦ ── Muichiro is sweet and easily excited compared to his brother, but you're the most energetic out of anyone, which often surprises him and strangers
✦ ── Regardless, you make school a lot more fun with your excitement and positivity, so your loudness doesn't scare him
Authors Note | My one (1) KNY OC is sort of an uncannily happy-toned slayer that has an unspoken adoration with Mui and so this was so damn easy to write, I think of them all the time.
Reader is actually sweeter in this though, because you are nice and kind :]
Hello I’m the anon who asked about the specific reqs! Thanks for the quick response and for clearing that up because my requests in are almost always kinda specific😀✨ so tengen was sent to a mission and he saw a demon around Muichiros age that can walk around in the sun… ya 😀 so she has a sarcastic attitude and is quick and athletic. so anyway he chases her and after a dead end and a few minutes of negotiation turnes out that she’s not the demon that’s responsible for the… idk stuff you decide. And she also somehow proved she doesn’t eat people so they make a deal that if she helps him on the mission he will let her live and she actually killed the demon and he took her to the hshiras to see what to do and he kinda adopts her after that🥳 I don’t think I need to clarify that but just in case the relationship is 100% platonic ofc. If you want you can take some parts out because the post will be kinda long if you write all of this.. I mean I don’t mind ofc I requested this but whatever you feel like🫶
Uzui [& Reader]
In which Uzui takes in a young demon with more bark than bite, and she becomes the first demon in slayer uniform.
Reader is ── Female | Demon | Platonic
Warnings | N/A
One mission was all it took for his life to flip on its head
Several people were found hanging, blood drained from their bodies till their skin flaked off, all in one small, tight-knit town
The only shame was that he wasn't exactly a fan of the whole 'spy' part of missions; laying low just wasn't his thing
Fortunately you weren't exactly secretive, running through the midnight streets and checking over your shoulder as if you could feel his eyes trained on you from his perch
You were evasive, with your small frame and nimble movements, but he was a hashira, for Christ's sake!
"Would you stop running already?!"
His voice shouted after you; watching as you slipped down alleyways, he would run into the walls of, likely starting people awake every time. Your voice, distant but taunting, only made his seething worse:
"When you stop chasing me, sure!"
You spat back in a voice so uncannily human it frustrated him
He hadn't realized it, but your scent wasn't the only trace of demon around, and you'd been leading him to an increasingly larger threat
Whereas you couldn't have eaten a single person based on your scent alone, this one had to have feasted on several dozen
With his weapon already drawn from his chase with you, the fight was quick
The moment he rounded the corner, he saw you jumping towards its head, blinding it with your claws digging through its eyes despite its own claws attempting to tear through your arms
He used that opportunity to attack it, slicing through its neck in two motions from either blade at the same time
Only when it had fully disintegrated did he get to take a good look at you
Clearly a fresh demon, you looked no older than fourteen, and you had no scent of death on you
If it weren't for your demonic features—claws, teeth, and eyes—you'd look like a normal young girl
"So, what's your deal?" He questioned with earnestness as he put his weapons back on his back, no longer sensing a threat.
"Vegan demon, I guess." You shrugged, and he let out a cackle at the thought.
"Okay then, do you think you can prove that to a tough crowd?"
With the other demon girl that had joined the slayers, he figured there was no shame in bringing in another
He made his case to his master, that you'd helped lead him to and kill the demon causing the deaths, that you hadn't killed a soul to date, and that you were just some unfortunate kid who deserved a chance to prove everyone otherwise
And Uzui took full responsibility for you from that point on
You'd gone on missions with him plenty; you had regenerative abilities, which meant he didn't have to worry about you dying, and he could easily carry you on his back between missions so you could sleep off the injuries
And you may not be the baby his wives wanted, but you're certainly a kid; they're all over you once you're proven not to be a threat
Oh yeah, you're spoiled by your moms every day! Uzui had to drag you away from them just to get you on missions again because, lord knows, you're soaking up that attention
You and Muichiro are pretty similar when it comes to your language; you're always ragebaiting every demon you encounter, and some hashira too
Uzui would say it's funny if you didn't also direct your sharp tongue at him
Hey, he isn't above threatening a child, not even his own
Authors Note | What a fun request!! Because there were so many points I felt the best way to hit this would be through headcanons. I hope you enjoy, Anon!
Hi! Can you do hc or a one shot with Tamayo? they/them reader, platonic, was thinking about her and possibly Yushiro helping care for a sick reader. Bye!
Lady Tamayo [& Reader]
In which you've caught something of a fever, but the demon you've been helping is happy to give back to you.
Reader is gender neutral | Human | Platonic
Warnings | N/A
As long as you could remember, you'd been helping Tamayo and Yushiro with chores they couldn't perform during the day
Gathering ingredients for potential cures from vendors, lengthy trips out of town for rare tools, and gathering blood from volunteers under the guise of medical practice
You were far from a doctor, but Tamayo taught you all the ways around searching for a vein, soothing someone afraid of needles, and when to stop drawing
Because of you, they were able to grow stronger without so much as touching a human and stave off the hunger that was forced onto them by the demon king
In return, you had a home, company, and a purpose
Unfortunately, being human meant you weren't safe from ailments
Bedridden, shaking, palms sweating so viciously you had to clutch towels to soak it up, you were a sore sight
Your entire body trembled under the sheets, eyes closed and face flushed with heat. One of your hands met your cheek, the skin hot to the touch despite feeling as though you were freezing.
At the end of the bed, handing Lady Tamayo a cup of medicinal water he'd just prepared, purple eyes judged.
"You look awful."
Yushiro's words, of course
As much as he insulted you, he was still covering for your work when he could while you were sick and cooking meals for you despite how nauseous the smell made him
Tamayo, however, never left your side
Between rotating towels filled with cold buckets of water she'd refill, she would wash each cloth and read her medical textbooks out loud to you, even if you were half concious
First she started with how fevers worked, to ease your conscience considering all the extreme symptoms
Every morning she started by preparing you a fresh set of clothes, something loose and comfortable, while she would replace the sheets
Whenever Yushiro finished cooking the human food, she'd help you sit up and ensure it wasn't too hot
If you were shaking too much, she'd feed you, no hesitation, no shame, no question
Something less medical and more soothing that she does is allow you to pick from a collection of her scented oils: lavender, vanilla, chamomile, pine...
The touch of her hands was gentle, her middle finger rubbing small circles into your inner wrists after dropping some of the sweetly scented oil onto each one. She added a few more drops to her fingers, holding your hair back to lightly dab somewhere your ears met your jaw.
"Let me know if the scent is too strong, okay?"
Aromatherapy relieves stress, and it helps when staying inside to enjoy the scent of something 'fresh'
You were just as important and as deserving of care as all her previous patients, and as a member of their home, you were someone she wished the best health for
Besides, caring for someone much like she did her kids when she was human brings her a kind of peace
Authors Note | hehehe hiiii landyyyy thank you landyyyy
Imagining your fave being the one yearning for you, their favourite character in a given media. Wishing everyday you were real, wishing they could impact your life somehow, requesting fanfic about you from their favourite writers.
A large town outside Tokyo, one of its many neighbours, was the perfect place for a new slayer to gather their bearings for a low-level mission.
Even at night the pathways were well lit, with food vendor stalls sizzling and chatter emanating from each one. The sun had set an hour or so ago, and you were ordered to remain the area's guard for the week until they found a replacement for the last one. She’d gone missing alongside her crow.
You found yourself comfortable at your usual spot, holding two skewers of beef kushiyaki in one hand and finishing scribbling a note with the other, which you handed to your crow just before it took off. You’d been asked to provide daily reports on the status of the town and note anything suspicious. So far the only thing you’d discovered was the higher rate of unsolved disappearances here, but it was hard to know how accurate the number was based off reports alone.
The summer was just simmering down into an early fall; the green shift in trees was starting to turn into their more colourful hues of yellow, orange, and red. The sun set earlier and rose later, which meant more time earned by demons to make moves. Thankfully lone demons didn’t tend to pop up in crowded areas for risk of being caught.
“Waiting on me?” A voice came from behind, legs swinging over the bench so the man could sit down on the empty spot next to you.
“Maybe.” Your smile was evident in your voice even if you avoided looking at him, moving one skewer to your other hand and offering it to him. He hesitated before taking the skewer between his thumb and pointer finger.
“For me? You shouldn’t have.” Douma was always much louder than you, and in some ways you envied how friendly he was. Despite being in town for nearly two weeks, you’d only managed to get to know Douma, who’d sat himself next to you just to ask about your uniform. You informed him that you were something of a guard, part of a larger group that helped people defend themselves from threats they may not be prepared for.
“Well, I never see you eat anything.” He was always there when you had dinner, much like a few evenings past when he joined you at an udon stand and refused to try even a sip besides a nibble of the pork. Even then, he said the taste of green onion on it was too strong and that he never ate anything but meat.
You’d eaten through half of yours by the time he got down the first piece, and soon his skewer was waving infront of your face.
“Eat it for me?”
“Really, you won’t even eat a single slice of onion?”
“I don’t like the taste…”
You scoffed, moving forward and pulling it off with your teeth. Grilled onion went so well with beef, you were surprised he couldn’t enjoy it! You finished before him, and everytime he finished eating the meat, he’d offer the vegetable stuck between the pieces. As much as you wanted to force him to eat it, you were glad to see him enjoying some kind of food. Douma had insisted he ate before you met up, no matter how many times you told him to skip dinner at home and enjoy a meal with you.
“People need more than just meat to live, you know. That can’t be healthy.” Though you tried to look him in the eye, his messy ashen hair always blocked your view, especially with him being taller and always staring up at the sky. As much as you tried to recall, you weren’t even sure what colour his eyes were; they seemed different every time you looked.
“What can I say? I’m a carnivore! How else would I get so strong?” Lifting an arm to jokingly flex, you did the same, rolling your sleeve up and shoving his arm down to prove a point.
“Oh yeah? What's all this, then? Fake?” You’d been training a lot recently, and the muscles in your arms were certainly some of your most impressive. Regardless, he was still far leaner than you, and he laughed at your attempt of showing him up.
“Sure, if I ever want to get smaller, I’ll try your method. The meat you eat doesn’t even compare to the stuff I eat when you aren’t around.” Always a tease, you thought. Every time he told you about his life, you wondered what kind of person he was. You figured he was sneaking out to see you, considering his clothes were a fine material and brightly coloured, often a sign of wealth. There were also the hints about his diet, which you assumed came from having access to high-quality ingredients. The one time you got him to try a daifuku, he’d nearly thrown up and permanently placed your names in the bad books of the vendor who’d sold them to you.
Silence fell between you two after you’d thrown the skewers away, staring out at the treeline just beyond the town. Soon you’d start your rounds, another long night of nothing but paranoia and being alone with your thoughts, knowing if a demon arrived, you’d be the only one that could kill it without relying on the sunrise.
There were some nights you wondered what you’d do if a demon more powerful than you showed up.
“Worried about something? You know I give pretty good advice—or so I’m told!” His voice startled you, your bouncing leg jumping when the quiet was broken. You nearly forgot you had company; he was so still that not a peep came from him even though he was right next to you.
“It’s stupid, really. Just, the people in this town feel safe, and I wonder if they’d still feel safe knowing what was out there, and then knowing I was the only thing between them and that danger.” You’d taken your nichirin blade, sheath and all, into your hands, looking at the carefully braided handle and the painted sheath. So many people put faith in you to get you to this point: your mentor, who gave you your breathing style; the swordsmith that forged your blade for you; and those who’d sheltered you on your journey here. Unknowingly, there were also those in their houses now, heading to sleep and leaving their safety in the hands of your capabilities and weaknesses.
“Don’t worry, no one will go missing tonight.” Douma placed a cold hand on the small of your back. “Whatever is causing those disappearances, it’ll see you working so hard and know not to trouble you!”
A scoff fell past your lips as you shook your head and stood up to get away from his touch. A blush had blossomed on your cheeks, both from the high praise and the proximity of your new friend. You didn’t want him to know his words had any effect on you. You repositioned the sheath of your sword under your belt, turning back to see him with his legs crossed on the bench, head propped up by his fist. You could have sworn his eyes had a glow to them, but you chalked it up to a trick of the light. It only took a moment's glance for you to look away, avoiding his strong gaze. As much as you wanted to take in the colours of his eyes, you knew he’d probably tease you for staring so long.
“I wish it worked like that. If it did, I wouldn’t need to carry this blade with me everywhere I go.”
A groan turned into a chuckle from the man; you couldn’t see it, having turned away once more, but his eyes rested on the back of your head, contemplative.
“I’m going to start my usual rounds of the perimeter. Goodnight, Douma.” Something in your voice still had that choked tone from before, something he caught in a second, but that you hadn’t even noticed about yourself. There was a quiver when you doubted your abilities, like you would have cried had that reaction not been ripped out of you from years of training and your few demonic encounters forcing you to wise up—to build walls.
Douma didn’t respond, instead watching you leave. It was uncharacteristic of his unwavering optimism that you’d gotten so used to.
Perhaps, like you worried you would, your anxieties had driven him away.
You weren't that unwaveringly strong guardian he might have taken you to be.
Before you, the town’s lights shone, guarded by only two layers of wooden fence around all corners, mostly made to keep out wild animals. A few more houses were outside of that border, but the majority of them belonged to farmers and resource gatherers. The main parameter you walked was a dirt road, formed by many decades of people walking the same route. The lights faded with the houses until the treeline, where everything dropped into a pitch black even under the gaze of the full moon on a clear night.
“If you’re scared to face something alone, you could have just said so!” An arm draped over your shoulder, the sudden unannounced presence of your companion once again startling you. How was he so silent? You hadn’t even heard a breath, let alone a movement. Looking at the ground, you watched his steps fall into the rhythm of your own.
You struggled to form words at first, too stunned by his sweet display.
Whether you liked it or not, he wasn’t afraid to break into your personal space, and it’d gotten easy to assume it was personal. Despite not knowing Douma for long, you’d come to thoroughly enjoy his visits and how amazing of a listener he’d been. Every day you learned something new and bizarre about him, too. To top it all off, he’d been nothing but kind to you, especially now, pulling you against his side with his arm and following you on your patrol. He had to have been one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, and he was wasting his time spending his waking hours with someone who had sworn their life to a cause that would probably kill them.
All things considered, he’d make a good demon slayer.
“You really don’t have to join me, Douma. You should be asleep like everyone else.” He loosened his grip so you could have some space again, at the silent request of your pulling away, “I’m sure there’s someone at home worried sick about you.”
Douma paused, this time a whole laugh escaping his lips. His canines showed, sharp and glistening, but hidden from your gaze, which focused on the path forwards.
“Quite the opposite.” Douma’s tone always seemed the same, but this time something behind that cheerful persona seemed to slip into something more melancholic. You didn’t gather that he was particularly sad or bothered, just not as enthusiastic as before.
It felt different doing your rounds with Douma than all the previous nights. Normally you’d feel a constant state of dread and worry, placed in a position of protection without having anything to fight for. Now, with him at your side, it felt like you could take on just about any demon that tried to make a move. You were supposed to keep the public from knowing about these creatures, but so long as you saved Douma, then it didn’t really matter whether he knew or not. Something about him made you think that he would be more fascinated by their species than terrified. In fact, you could hardly imagine him scared of the things at all.
Whenever there was space in your conversation, your companion took to humming, mostly staring up at the sky while you kept a watchful eye on your surroundings. Every once in a while he would put a finger under your chin and tilt your head up so he could show you a constellation he’d found, tracing the stars with a pointer finger until you’d see it just as he did. A part of you wished you could keep your gaze on the comfort of the sky rather than the mystery of the world you walked.
“Why is it you took on a job like this?” Douma had seen how you seemed to have the muscle memory to do nothing but watch and wait, no matter how many times he tried to get you to stop and relax. Weren’t humans your age supposed to be getting married or take care of a family? At least, that was what he gathered from the people in his cult.
“Got pressured into an arranged marriage, realized there was more for me than domesticity, and got lucky.” It was just over a year since Shinobu had saved you from a demon the night before your wedding, midway through running into the night. It was freeing to run from your life, even if you planned to turn right back around after. What wasn’t freeing was being slammed to the ground by a bloodthirsty monster, and had she not been in the area…
“Now I owe someone my life, and the least I could do is protect others.”
“You’re certain this is what you should be doing, slaying creatures of the night?”
“I have no remorse for monsters with no feelings; they don’t deserve to live.”
“So you couldn’t be friends with a demon?”
You stopped in your tracks at the question, Douma pausing a couple steps ahead. Your fist was clenched, digging crescent moons into the palm of your hand while your other hand white-knuckled the hilt of your blade.
“Friends, with a demon? Something that’d eat me without a second thought? Are you—" Your breath caught in your throat, eyes trailing from his shoes up his figure to the back of his neck, covered by a swirling mess of hair. The person you’d shared meals with several times but who rarely ate, the person who you only ever saw at night, the person with such rare features that you weren’t sure they existed: his ashen hair, his pointed nails, his rainbow eyes.
“Did you just say demon?”
“Yes, you were talking about—”
“I didn’t say demon. Ever.” And you wouldn’t have. Why would you inform someone of something that’d leave them fearing for their life, if not laughing at you for spouting nonsense about tales?
You watched him tilt his head back towards the sky, and you could tell from his gaze he was looking at the same constellation he had just shown you. He twisted his upper body to glance back at you, rainbow eyes, which most certainly glowed in the night, holding your stare. He raised his hand to cover his eyes, and when it moved back down, kanji appeared in them.
‘Upper Two’ Your mind was blank beyond those words, and he did nothing but let you stare. When it seemed to click, his smile seemed more like a smirk.
Your blade was unsheathed in a moment, each hand holding the hilt and pointing the blade towards him.
How was an Upper Moon here without anyone noticing? Why was he revealing himself now? Questions raced, your grip strong on your blade, even as your knees shook. You’d heard of the twelve Kizuki before, but you’d been told it was near impossible to find them! Let alone the second strongest, why you?
Douma had fully turned, reaching towards you with a pitiful expression. Only now did you feel the pressure of his presence. Had you completely missed it before, or had he gotten so good at concealing it that you never noticed? You’d only killed three demons in your life, each either recently turned or who’d eaten little to no humans. How many had he eaten? How long had he been alive?
“Don’t! I don’t want to hurt you!” You raised your blade closer to him in an attempt to get him to back off.
“Oh, you don’t? Does that make you friends with a demon?” Your threats didn’t scare him; no, he could tell you were in over your head in this fight. His hand grabbed the middle of your blade, tensing in a grip so strong you couldn’t pull it away.
“Bad little lotus, Demon Slayers shouldn’t be afraid to hurt demons.”
SNAP.
Just like that, your sword shattered where he held it, eyes wide in horror. Pulling the remaining half of the blade away, you watched metal pieces crumble to the floor along with the top half of the blade. With no effort, he rendered your weapon entirely null. His hand remained in the air, and you watched the cut he’d made digging his own flesh into the blade heal completely in under a second, leaving not so much of a trace of the damage.
“H-how, how is that possible?!” You took a step back, making space between him and yourself, one hand letting go of the hilt while the other dropped loosely to your side, shaky grip still holding what was left of your weapon.
“Don’t worry, I’m saving you the trouble of having a fight with me! If you turn around now, I’ll let you go.” Douma smiled sweetly, as if what he was offering was an option for you to begin with. “Your blade is broken; there’s no better excuse for running from a fight than that!”
There was a one-way tension between the two of you. He seemed so relaxed, looking at you the same way he had when comforting you, offering you the bits of food he didn’t like, and telling you about the constellations. In his eyes, it seemed nothing had changed in your dynamic; he’d always known from your uniform who you were, and at no point was he worried about you realizing he was a demon. He had no qualms about being seen warming up to a slayer, but you certainly couldn’t be seen like this with any demon, let alone an Upper Rank.
And to return to the slayers, failing to protect the people here and running with your tail between your legs?
Frankly, you’d rather die than live with that humiliation.
You fixed your posture, sliding your leg back and planting both feet firmly on the ground. Again you moved your blade between the two of you, supporting it with both hands. Your eyes closed with a deep inhale, opening in a hard stare at the demon before you. Let it be known that even if you were doomed from the start, you never backed down.
“Aw, what hopeless resolve! Humans can be such tragic creatures.” He unfolded a golden fan, covering his mouth as he spoke to hide the smile behind it. He wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings and let you think he wasn’t taking you seriously, after all. If this were a fight with real stakes, then he would want his companion to feel honourable. As much as his hollow heart never beat, you certainly made something in him race—something about the forbidden relationship you’d started to build without knowing it. Perhaps it was adrenaline—no, what you gave him was stronger, pure noradrenaline.
It would be a shame to get rid of something so special over such a silly rivalry.
One swish of his fan, and a rush of ice and wind forced you to jump back, exactly as Douma hoped. In an instant, chains of ice coiled around your torso and arms, restricting your movement and breathing so quickly you dropped your sword at your feet. Upper Two was upon you in a moment, hand covering your mouth and nose so you wouldn’t breathe in the dangerously sharp molecules made up of his blood and ice. His hand was freezing cold, colder than you remember, and it muffled any attempts at calling for help that you made.
You were dangling in the air, chains taut above your head where they were securely tied into the branches of the tree above you. You were held a meter in the air, high enough that Douma now looked up at you instead. His other hand, which held the now folded fan, raised a finger to his lips, shushing you before removing the hand preventing speech.
Only your legs and head were free of the restriction, attempting to kick your way out of their grip.
“They won’t melt until morning, poor thing. How about you just get some rest?”
Your head hung low, eyes shaky as he looked up into them. You were safer this way; you’d never have survived a fight against him. But rather than listen, you went ahead and acted all stubborn. Oh well, good thing he had plenty of ways to keep you from trying to do anything stupid. Even with his warnings, you continued to try to move, seeing if you could get any of the branches to break with your movements. Douma hummed in discontent, moving the folded fan below your chin to lift your head and force your gaze back to him.
“Why do you fight it? It's hopeless…” His voice trailed. He could have said more, but he didn’t exactly want to insult you either. He could have said you stood no chance, or that you were too weak to get out, something to really crush your spirit. But he liked that spirit; it was a passion he couldn’t feel, so he wanted to live it vicariously through you.
But you couldn’t stop, your eyes moving in the direction of the sleepy town. Even if you stood no chance, you were still buying people time. You’d heard demons could kill several people at night, so surely an upper rank could kill dozens in that time.
“I can’t live knowing it was you who killed those people and that I did nothing to stop it.” Your voice had broken, both from the emotional haul of betrayal from someone you thought you had made a friend of and from your lungs being squeezed in the grip of your constraints. You’d spoken to him about the missing people for several nights, about how you wouldn’t sleep most days just to investigate. And that whole time, despite his words of encouragement or support, he knew you would never figure it out without getting yourself killed. Did he get some kind of enjoyment from seeing you act so stupid? For believing every sweet lie he told you?
When tears began to spill down your face, both his hands cupped your cheeks, stealing their warmth and catching any tears.
“I already told you I won’t cause any disappearances tonight, remember?” His head cocked to the side, the same smile in his eyes, “Just because you’ve worked oh-so hard!”
You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or genuine, watching as the tears rolling down your cheeks got caught in the space between your skin and his.
His hands finally parted, and you opened your mouth to protest once more, but you weren’t fast enough. The base of his fan met with your vagus nerve, shocking your system. He watched as you tensed before falling limp in the grip of his chains.
“Rest well, sweet slayer.” Douma pressed his bitter lips to your hairline in a parting kiss, and as quickly as he’d appeared beside you that very evening, he was gone.
Authors Note | This idea came to me while I was working, alongside some unsavoury things about the potential with his chains,,, Anyways I dont have ANY requests so I am just writing whatever comes to mind!
Hiii I have a question… are there rules for specific requests? Because there’s something that’s stuck in my head that’s kinda specific that I thought I’d request but I know some writers don’t like specific requests sooo… I just wanted to know 😅
No rules at all besides the one listed in my pinned post! Out of my two previous requests I had one that was 'can you write something for x character' and one that was 400 words,,, so,,, genuinely go wild!
I do like specifics because they often give me details I wouldn't have thought of! And I like non specifics because then I can do absolutely anything!
Hiiii can I request headcanons of Inosuke x fem reader who is kinda like Giyuu like very strong, stoic and can appear very intimidating at times and rearly talks and over time she surprisingly got along with inosuke but not like tanjiro did, let’s say that when he tried to steal her food instead of handing him an extra plate she almost impaled his hand to the table w a fork- (jk jk but you get the point🥹) Inosuke kinda admires her like he admired giyuu when he first met him and over time she starts to like his chaotic personality finding it cute amusing. Idk I think it could be an interesting dinamic. Like a golden retriever x black cat but instead of a golden retriever it’s a wild boar 🤣
Inosuke [x Reader]
In which you're the tsuguko of the wind hashira, and to survive someone like him you'd certainly be able to handle Inosuke.
Reader is female | Human | Romantic
Warnings | N/A
The first time the two of you met was just after the fight against the spider demon
He'd been bored, waking up before his friends, and his body ached in ways he never admitted
Naturally that meant he had to distract himself by pushing into others' business, including your own
In the rehabilitation room he picked up on two voices, one he recognized from the final selection and another he didn't recall
You two were training together, and once Inosuke heard you giving pointers to the other, he barged in demanding to be taught too
Of course, Genya ran off the moment Inosuke started making a fuss and left him with you, whom he immediately challenged to a fight
One whack to his neck with the hilt of your nichirin sword, and he was grumbling on the floor
Before you could walk away, too, he had grabbed your ankle and demanded you teach him
"Leave me alone."
You flicked your foot up, smacking his mask under the chin with the bottom of your foot to disorient him while you made your escape
After that he was completely hooked on bothering the shit out of you
Usually by asking questions: Why are you so strong? Are you also a god of some kind? Why won't you train him?
Whenever your mentor, Sanemi, is on a mission you can't follow him on, you'd be at the Butterfly Mansion to assist Shinobu and discreetly train his younger brother whatever he'd taught you
And Inosuke would be there regardless, doing rehabilitation and waiting on his friends to get better
He likes that you say so little, because it means whenever he can get you to speak, 'he wins,' whatever that means
Inosuke is too careless to realize you always choose to sit next to him during meals or that you leave the rehabilitation room door open so he can watch you train Genya and learn himself
And every meal he tries to take something from your plate, which always ends up with him earning a new bruise or having to eat in the hallway as punishment
If you think your stoic personality will scare him, he will never, ever get sick of it
Expect him to try tricks he learned from you in a surprise attack, because if he wins, then it boosts his ego, and if he loses, you're teaching him how to prepare for someones counter attack
All he sees is that he learned more
And one day he'll be at your level, so maybe you'll teach him one-on-one, too
Authors Note | Added my own twist about her being Sanemi's tsuguko because I feel like anyone under him would be mopey as hell just like Giyuu lmao
I already sent the Mui ask from before so this is more of a chit-chat and not a request, but who do you think would do best with a shy reader? I think there's all kinds of shy so I'll try my best to explain... I've written for the humans for now (Tanjiro, Genya, Kyojuro, Sanemi and Gyomei), but I also have something for the Demons (Enmu, Akaza, maybe Yushiro), too, if you like this... if the ask cuts off (and it's very long) I'll just send you the rest <3
I think if you're the sort of girl who struggles to let people take care of you, or is kinda sorta distant, Tanjiro would be your best bet? If you started distancing yourself he would push closer to you, and he's the responsible type so he wouldn't let you break the bond you two have just because you're afraid. I think he'd call you out on it, but very gently... he also wouldn't take no for an answer if you're not taking care of yourself. He'd keep smiling for you, encouraging you until you opened up for him, and there's no going back after that! Somehow when he's next to you it all dissipates, he makes it feel okay.
For someone not necessarily afraid but really reserved and easily flustered, I'm thinking Genya (believe it or not), provided you're honest with how you feel. I think meeting someone shyer than him would make him feel more comfortable, like he has to take care of you (that's what girls are for, after all), and you being more flustered than afraid and responding to him very innocently would make him feel he's doing something right. He'd talk to you constantly if you're not a talker, constantly trying to make you pleased, he'd go crazy for the smile of a shy girl, making you feel safe and comfortable would be his greatest reward (like taking care of his siblings was). You'd be like a princess to him, so delicate but so warm... I can just see him trying to get you to feel better, gently and half-flustered himself holding a wallflower to your palm, saying, "See?... it's not hiding, it's just shy..."
If you're reserved with cool manners, and your shyness mainly comes off as formality... maybe Kyojuro! He's formal himself, so I think he'd look past it easily. If you're also especially helpful - the kind of woman who does behind the scenes work relentlessly, invisible kindness -, perceptive as he is, and appreciating people with passion in their heart, he'd fall head over heels for you. He'd pursue you very intensely, he'd be able to tell when you want him to ease on it and when you want him to keep going. And it's not like he's getting fooled by your behavior; you have this kind of womanly innocence, that's what it is, he can tell you're not snobbish. He'd just tell you one day, out of the blue, confidently but warmly, slightly quieter than his usual voice, "You're shy, aren't you. It means you're thoughtful. You always do right by everyone.", and if you don't die on the spot then you're lucky. Also he definitely thinks you'd make a good mom, and it's a very exciting thought for him, but he can't have you dying on him, so he doesn't tell you.
If you're the sort of shy that's always wearing a mask, this sort of friendly layer for everyone around you, if you're terribly reserved and secretive, but still want to make others feel better, always exhausted from your own kindness... it wouldn't be illogical to say Sanemi. I think he'd see you, he'd appreciate the way you make others feel, he wants to take care of you so you can ease up a little bit (I also think he believes women are for looking after and spoiling, just like his brother). He sees your work and he knows, *knows* how difficult a woman's life can be, you deserve having someone you can let go with, let go of all these things you've bottled up, especially if you're angry, or frustrated. He wouldn't push you to say anything that's troubling you, he knows what it's like to want to be by yourself, be alone, but he'd be by your side, quietly, until you're ready. He'd hold you through the waterworks, he'd make you talk without saying a thing. Also, if you ever wanted something and couldn't bring yourself to ask him - subterfuging or teasing him instead - he'd know immediately and give it to you directly, no playing around. You're his woman, and women are for spoiling, after all... Make of that what you will.
If you're the quiet type, not necessarily afraid but definitely struggling in social situations, if you prefer working behind the scenes and the limelight burns a little too brightly for you, if you're helpful but afraid you'll get between people's feet, I can see you with Gyomei! Sure, he thinks it's a little bit childish - people can't always bend over backwards for you, you know - but... you've such an innocent heart, and you're sincere to the point of wisdom, so... it isn't necessary to resolve your shyness, but he can definitely make you put yourself forward - you can't waste your good heart like that, he won't allow it. He'll be by your side; he'll look after you, and you can look after others together. He lives for witnessing you blossom under his guidance, still reserved but confident, willing, even happy. He doesn't take the gift of your heart lightly - he knows he's holding it in his hands, you're that sort of woman, giving yourself over completely, trusting him, listening to him... he'll always be thinking of ways to elevate and accomodate you. He'll do right by you always; you're his to know, to love. Knowing you're confident next to him makes his heart flutter, and the day you'll be able to move forward on your own, while still seeking to stay by his side, will be the day he grasps his prayer beads and be grateful for the Heavens bringing you to him.
This was more of a monologue than a chit-chat, but I wanted you to have it <3 Just sweet, strong guys loving their cute, shy girls <3
Firstly, wow! This is the same anon that requested Sunny Days, and it was just so cool seeing someone share so many of their headcanons with me!
You see a gentleness in these characters that I struggle to think about. It's kind of like listening to a Laufey song and realizing how much of a hopeless romantic you actually are, but just weren't sure how to put it into words.
I'm more demon-centric, so I figured I would help there. Except, I also am far too silly for my own good so I made it a tierlist! I based it off the ones you mentioned, but I was very limited in text so its more of a cheap summary,,,
I said it before, but I really hope you're a writer on here! You have so many fun ideas I genuinely think readers in the kny community would simply eat them up!
ooooh I love mui so much too, he was my undisputed favorite when I first watched demon slayer, I still love him and thank you so much for writing for him romantically <3 something about him just caught my eye, there's something so under-the-skin sweet about him, you just know he'd pin your hair into place when nobody's looking, really non-chalantly too, just stating that it had fallen out of your hairdo and not mentioning it at all... or you could just be staring at clouds together and you turn to the side and just... see him looking at you! you ask him why and he's all like "what do you mean? you're cute, that's why I'm looking at you." don't tell him he's cute too, your shyness will just move him closer to you, cradling your face to the crook of his neck, telling you, "do you really think so?", teasingly... he'd just fluster you so bad, I just know it, but he has a cute honesty about him that puts you on ease at the same time. I think he'd actually be very forward when in love.
Ok, enough with my rambling (sorry...). Do you think Mui would take care of his sweet girl regularly? Like spending a cool afternoon brushing her hair next to the open shoji screens, tying an obi he got for her in his colors around her waist, washing her face gently before letting her try on lipstick for the first time, using the brush to tenderly trace the shadow of her lips... pinning a custom hair pin to her hair so she can remember him... taking care of her as she takes care of him... I just think it'd be so cute. Whether you fill this or not is up to you, thank you however for reading up to here, it means a lot, I hope that at least you liked my silly little imaginations <3
Sunny Days [Muichiro x Reader]
In which you spend some time together after his long night, and get some rest for the next day.
Reader is female | Human | Comfort | 2.2k words
Recommended Song | Ladyfingers by Herb Alpert
Warnings | N/A
Muichiro was thankful demons could only cause problems at night.
Because on a day like this, with blue skies and white clouds drifting in the warm summer breeze, he wanted nothing more than to be at home with you.
You started your day when he would be nearly done his own, likely tending wounds or ending his less eventful nights with training. In that time, you’d go to a nearby market to help collect ingredients for the Love Estate, where you prepared most of the food and ingredients used by the Butterfly Mansion and other hashira. Like clockwork, Muishiro would join you right as your baskets began to feel too heavy, helping carry them while you finished your work.
At that point, the sun would just be rising, pouring golden hues across the forests, fields, and mountains you walked between. The air would still hold the night's cool breeze to it, which meant Muichiro would stay close by your side to bask in your warmth. You’d ask him how his mission went, and he would ask you if anything interesting happened during your evening. Some nights you told him about a hashira visiting looking for him to train, and other nights he’d tell you about the demon blood art his opponents had.
Once you were dropped off at Mitsuri’s home to begin cooking, he’d help cut any vegetables or fruit you needed while you did the more elegant parts of cooking. Most of your morning preparations involved making breakfast and portioning pre-prepared ingredients for delivery. Most of the hashira only had staple ingredients delivered for the days they didn’t eat on the road, so the majority of your work went into meals made for patients at the Butterfly Estate. Not once, despite his long night, would he stop helping you. He’d lay out all the cloths you had for wrapping trays of food, taking anything you’d made and portioning it as you directed. Muichiro let you tie them off, though, since your bows looked nicer.
With the kakushi arriving just on time to handle the deliveries, Muichiro would start making tea, usually a blend of several kinds he figured you’d like. Something sweet and aromatic, but not too strong in intensity.
You’d begin making breakfast; this morning it was strawberry soufflé pancakes. You’d mashed strawberries and squeezed the mixture through a cheesecloth to separate the seeds, which you’d clean and plant later, mixing the puree into your batter and pouring it onto a pan. Muichiro watched from his seat, captivated by the smell of your cooking and the steam from the teapot that sat on the table. You were an expert with flavour; it was like no matter what you worked with, you knew exactly what’d make it taste right. He found you weren’t just like that with cooking, though; you always seemed to know exactly what to do to bring him comfort.
As per usual, Mitsuri rushed in through the front, following the smell of your cooking and greeting you both with a cheerful smile.
“Do I have time to get changed?” She asked, hugging you from behind and peeking over your shoulder at the pancakes.
Muichiro couldn’t help but form a barely noticeable smile. Something about how loved you were, even by others, made him happy.
“Of course, Miss Kanroji.” Your voice was quieter in the morning, a contrast to the excitement in Mitsuri’s as she jumped up with an exclamation of glee and made her way to her room to change and clean up from her evening scouting. She only stopped to greet Muichiro with a quick hug and take in the scent of the tea he brewed before disappearing around the corner of the hallway.
You plated all three of your meals with an Earl Grey-infused maple syrup you’d made the day prior and some powdered sugar dusted on top. You gave Mitsuri her plate first, right as she sat across from your place, since she allowed you to cook in her estate every day. Then you placed yours and Muichiro’s at the same time. He was always surprised at how amazing your cooking skills were, and the first bite of the fluffy pancake already had him hooked on the flavour.
It was only when he went to pour the tea for you and Mitsuri that he realized he’d forgotten to remove the tea strainer and oversteeped the tea.
“Ah, I forgot.” He spoke in a low voice, clearly dismayed that he’d messed up his portion of the breakfast.
“It’s okay, Mui! It will only be a bit bitter.” Mitsuri comforted him, patting his shoulder.
“Actually, wait!” You stood, rushing to the cabinet and pulling a jar out of one of the cabinets full of baking ingredients. Back at the table, you added one more cup of boiling water to the pot to help dilute it and then used a spoon to carefully stir in some of the powder.
“Baking soda will help neutralize the bitter parts of the tea that were drawn out from being oversteeped.” You hummed in delight at your quick thinking, setting the jar aside while Mitsuri clapped in astonishment. With that, you poured everyone a cup of the steaming drink. Much as you described, once Muichiro took a sip, he couldn’t taste any bitterness, as if it’d never sat there too long to begin with.
He couldn’t help but wonder how you knew all these tricks. You may not be well versed in sword skills or breathing styles, but it seemed like in every other aspect of life you thrived in ways no one he had ever met knew.
Once everyone had finished breakfast, Muichiro being the first, he took to washing the dishes while you poured the remaining tea into a wooden cup and set it aside for Mitsuri to drink later. Although he found it strange, you and Mitsuri praised the flavour of cold tea; apparently it tasted that much better in the heat of the summer. You’d taken your apron off and looped it over him while he washed dishes, helping by scraping everything clean before handing it to him and putting each dish away once he’d dried them. With everything cleaned up and your work done just around the start of the afternoon, you both took your leave with a farewell to Mitsuri.
Muichiro was the type to stare at the clouds whenever he walked on his missions, but when it came to his walks with you, he was vigilant. He was sure to guide you on smooth terrain where you wouldn’t trip and to keep an eye out for anyone who may not mean well.
The Tokito Estate was close to Mitsuri’s, though in a far more secluded area up a hidden path in the woods. Trees were thin in the area, but they gave the estate a privacy he valued. His estate was one level, an open entry that led to a courtyard of sand, pebbles, and carefully combed cloud patterns. Rooms lined the outer edge of the home, each leading to the porch that encompassed the courtyard. The only exit was the archway you’d walked in through.
Tokito offered a hand to you to help you step up onto the porch, following you past the rooms until the central one, which was opposite the entry. It was the main room of the estate, with ink-painted shoji screen doors that you each slid one side open of to air out the room. Before you left for the market, you’d already pulled out your futon and sheets, preparing both beds for when the two of you slept in the early afternoon.
It was only when you kneeled down to sit on your ankles, reaching for the pins in your hair, that you noticed he seemed to be lingering by your side.
“Is everything okay, Mui?” Looking up, his teal eyes met yours, head tilted to the side and lost in thought. His lips parted to speak, though it took a moment for him to speak.
“It’s just strange how much you mean to me. No one else really matters when I compare you to them.” His honesty was always shocking, and he broke eye contact to move behind you, sitting down and helping remove the bow in your hair. You seemed frozen in place, feeling his hands carefully pull out pins that kept your hair neat and reaching around to set them in your cupped hands.
At a loss for words, you let him continue until your hair was fully down. He smoothed it with his palms, grabbing a comb from a shelf nearby and brushing through it.
Normally he’d stop there, and you were about to get up when he grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back down on your ass with a yelp.
“Mui! Careful!” You laughed, looking back at him with a smile.
“Just a bit longer?” Mui asked, expression serious, though calm. Your smile relaxed into a gentler one, nodding and turning back to facing forwards. This time his hands parted your hair in two down the middle, dividing each into sections so he could loosely braid them. He took two of the ties from your cupped hands again, finishing off each braid with the elastic to prevent them from undoing.
Gently, you felt the start of each braid and moved your hand down over the bumps, taking in his work.
“When did you…?” Your voice trailed off as you watched him stand up and place the comb back where he got it and take the pins from your hand to put them back in a cabinet.
“I asked Miss Kanroji to show me while you were making breakfast.” He had picked it up quickly while your back was turned, though he didn’t admit it was harder to pull off when he wanted it to be perfect for you. Normally you’d braid your own hair at night to protect it while you slept, but he didn’t like when there were things so simple he couldn’t do for you. Most of the night and day you spent without him, and Muichiro wanted to make sure you were well taken care of when he was there, to make up for all the things you had to do on your own.
He’d carry you everywhere if you’d let him; he’d do absolutely anything to show you that time spent with you was what made things easier to remember or easier to do at all.
It always felt like no matter what, you were always doing things for him: polishing his sword, cleaning his uniform, setting his bed, and cooking him meals he’d forgotten he was supposed to eat, and he never had enough time to make it up to you.
When he returned, he had a glass jar with oily water in it and a soft cloth. With the cork popped out, he held the cloth to the opening, getting it nice and wet. Holding your chin with one hand, he asked you to close your eyes, bringing the cloth to your eyelids and—as gently as he could—wiping the makeup from your eyes in slow circles. He did the same steps, using different parts of the cloth and fresh liquid to clean your face of makeup and any residue from your day's work. When he got to your lips, he started from the corners, carefully adjusting the cloth and swiping from left to right in deliberate strokes.
Your lipstick held the most pigment, so he was careful not to push it anywhere it’d spread or stain. Once your face was well cleaned, he took a smaller tin and unscrewed it, swiping his middle finger into the thicker transluscent balm and bringing it back to your lips. Muichiro first swiped some on your top and bottom lip, then went to massaging it in slow circles. Although he did it every night, you couldn’t help but feel a rosy tint take to your cheeks. When it was even, he leaned in, offering a quick kiss and stealing some of the balm for his own lips.
“All done.” He stated, letting go of your chin and helping you to your feet.
There was something of a routine in the madness of your lives. You helped him by removing his belt and sword, hanging the sword next to where he slept while he went to the bathing area to wash himself off. You changed into sleepwear while he was gone, the ones he brought in from the drying line before he went on his mission the night prior, and waited for him before closing the shoji screen to block out daylight.
Changed and comfortable, you’d rest side by side, silent and listening as the birds chirped outside.
“Rest well, Mui.” You’d kiss his forehead before retiring into bed, and he’d reach out, resting his hand on your forearm to make sure you were still there.
“Rest well.” His voice softer than usual, he’d whisper it when a few minutes had passed, making sure you were sound asleep.
Only when he was sure you’d fallen into a deep rest would he dare shut his eyes.
Authors Note | Anon you BETTER be a writer on here or I'll be mad... You've written some really lovely thing sin my inbox and inspired me so much! I hope this suits what you're hoping for 🖤
Hello, are you writing for the Demon Slayer? Can you write something for Enmu?
Enmu [x Reader]
In which you play the role of conductor for a demon whose taken a liking to you.
Reader is gender neutral | Human | Romantic
Warnings | Mentions of death
Much like the few others unfortunate enough to be on the train when it was first seized by the demon, you were turned into something of an actor
In fact, this train was chosen specifically because you were a passenger
A human he'd encountered plenty of times before, though you had no idea your encounters with the kind passenger whose ticket you'd stamped were anything as sinister as they had been
One evening, with the train on schedule and safely chugging along the tracks, you'd begun passing through the lines of sleepy passengers to check tickets
And the next thing you knew, you'd stamped his ticket with a familiar smile and wave, and everything went dark
It certainly took some convincing—and mild threatening—for Enmu to get you to calm down when you woke up on the floor of the locomotive cab
You'd never really seen his face since he usually wore a cap and had his hair in the way, but it was obvious from his appearance that he was no human
At first, you did as he instructed out of fear for your life
But out of all the people he commanded, he spent the most time with you, talking about anything
You thought it was because he wanted to be at the head of the train and watch you steer
Though it became clear with time he enjoyed his conversations with you
Partially because he is distracting you from the fact that he is absorbing everyone else on the train during your conversations, too
He'll protect you from any slayers, make sure everyone is unaware of your involvement, and help him choose routes that avoid actively guarded stations and other trains
Enmu will easily get attached, especially when you get talkative with him
His trust eventually leads him to revealing to you that the train was practically his body
He doesn't tell you that he put the most fragile portion of his body below where you conduct everyday
All you know is that if hell breaks loose, he's instructed you to cut the cables connecting the cab to the rest of the train and go full steam ahead
Authors Note | When I started this blog back in 2023 I did it solely for Enmu! My first fic on here was about him. I hope you liked these short headcanons!
