#gxg

[riverrexd]

The criminal lack of Van Palmer fics makes me feel like I personally need to step up

[teaandtweed]

Shinobu x reader where another hasira accidentally kills reader in a mission because she appeared behind them and they thought she was a demon and her reaction time was slowed because she thought she was safe with this person. Irreversible damage like head lobbed off because that’s how they kill demons. No one knows how to tell Shinobu but when they do, Shinobu swears till the end of the earth that she will kill the person responsible and try she does. The hasira that did it kinda wants to let her because the guilt of taking a friend and fellow human life is almost unbearable. They punish themselves any chance they get until one day it’s too much and they beg Shinobu on one of her attempts to just get it over with. Shinobu, while she’ll never forgive them, sees the mess they are, takes pity and spares them but she will always hate them.

Wow, what an unusual request. I've had a lot of unusual requests, but this one is really unusual.

And I don't know why I chose Tomioka. I could have used the character's OC, but that would have been a pain.

The Shattered Cup

Shinobu Kocho x female reader

Word Count: 2766

The night forest was shrouded in a thick, unnatural fog. It was not merely cold air descending from the mountains, but a Blood Demon Art—a viscous, suffocating veil that distorted sounds and scents. In this forest, where shadows intertwined with illusions, every step could be the last. Giyu Tomioka, the Water Hashira, stood in the middle of a small clearing, breathing heavily. His haori, split into two colors, had darkened from both his own blood and that of his enemy. The demon he had been fighting was a master of deception, a creature capable of creating phantoms and attacking from behind with incredible speed. Giyu was pushed to his absolute limit. All his senses were heightened, every nerve stretched like a taut bowstring. He was in a state of absolute combat readiness, where thought gives way to pure, lethal reflex.

You were on the other flank, clearing the perimeter of lesser demon minions. Your mission was accomplished, and you hurried to assist Giyu. You knew Tomioka. You knew his silent reliability, his care hidden behind a cold mask. He was a comrade with whom you had passed through many battles. And more importantly, he was a person Shinobu trusted, even if she constantly teased him. Near him, you always felt absolutely safe.

Emerging from the dense bamboo thickets, you saw his back. The fog muffled your footsteps. The demon Giyu had been fighting had just crumbled into ash, but the Water Hashira did not yet know it. The illusions still hung in the air.

Seeing the familiar haori, you sighed in relief. Your muscles relaxed. The feeling of safety proved fatal. You did not call out to him from afar, so as not to reveal your position to any potential surviving enemies. Instead, you approached him quickly, almost silently, from behind, intending to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Tomioka-san…" you began softly, taking your final step.

Your reflexes, usually honed by years of training, slowed down. You did not expect a strike. Your brain simply refused to perceive the person standing in front of you as a threat.

But for Giyu, whose mind was still held captive by the mortal battle, the unexpected rustle behind him and the suddenly appearing figure meant only one thing: the demon was attacking. The Hashira’s instinct, honed by years of bloody combat, acted faster than he could comprehend the situation. His body moved on its own.

A flash of blinding blue light cut through the fog. Water Breathing. A perfect, flawless horizontal slash, intended for the instantaneous decapitation of an enemy.

The sound of flesh being severed seemed deafeningly loud in the ensuing silence.

Tomioka finished his turn, his blade covered in fresh blood. He exhaled heavily, expecting to see the crumbling body of a demon. But instead, his gaze met your face. Your body stood upright for a fraction of a second more, and then your head, with an expression of absolute bewilderment and trust frozen upon it, slid gently from your shoulders and fell onto the moss-covered ground. Your body collapsed shortly after, flooding the grass with a crimson pool.

The sword fell from Giyu’s weakened fingers. The ringing of steel against stone echoed through the forest. Time stopped. Air became trapped in the Water Hashira’s lungs. He stared at your face, illuminated by the pale moonlight breaking through the fog. Your eyes were open; there was no fear in them—only surprise.

"No…" a hoarse, strangled sound escaped his throat. "No, no, no… Y/N…"

He fell to his knees directly into the puddle of your blood, his hands reaching convulsively toward your face, but he did not dare to touch it. The realization of what he had just done crashed down on him with the force of a falling cliff. He had killed you. He had killed a human. He had killed the beloved of Kocho Shinobu. With his own hands, by cutting off your head as if you were a wretched demon. The forest resounded with Giyu Tomioka’s inhuman, heart-wrenching scream, full of absolute, pure despair.

Twenty-four hours passed. The Butterfly Mansion was bathed in the morning sun. Shinobu Kocho stood on the veranda, humming a quiet melody. She was waiting for your return. You had promised to return for breakfast, and she had already prepared your favorite tea. Her heart was filled with the calm you had brought into her life. You were the only person capable of making the Insect Hashira smile sincerely and tenderly.

When the kasugai crow flew into the courtyard, its hoarse cry made Shinobu frown. The crow was followed by Kakushi. Their faces were hidden by masks, but their postures expressed incredible horror and grief. They carried a stretcher covered with a thick white cloth. The cloth near the neck was soaked red.

No one knew how to tell her. How to explain to the Insect Hashira that her loved one had perished not by the claws of a demon, but by the blade of a comrade?

The news had to be delivered personally. Oyakata-sama stepped into the courtyard, supported by his daughters. Behind him followed several Hashira who were at headquarters: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Mitsuri. Everyone stood in deathly silence.

Shinobu’s smile froze, turning into a fragile porcelain mask. She looked at the stretcher, then at Ubuyashiki Kagaya.

"Oyakata-sama? What is happening?" her voice sounded unnaturally shrill. "This is some kind of mistake. Y/N is on a mission with Tomioka-san right now. She… she is very strong."

Kagaya sighed deeply. His sightless eyes were full of unspeakable sadness. "My dear child," he said softly, but infinitely heavily. "A terrible, irreparable tragedy has occurred. The dense fog… the demon's Art… Tomioka Giyu… he made a fatal mistake."

Mitsuri covered her face with her hands, hiding her sobs. Sanemi looked away, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Shinobu stopped breathing. Her mind refused to connect the words into sentences. Mistake. Tomioka. Tragedy. Stretcher. Decapitated.

Slowly, as if in a dream, she walked to the stretcher and pulled back the white cloth. The silence that hung in the courtyard was more terrifying than any scream. Shinobu stared at your lifeless, pale face. Your head had been neatly placed against your neck by the Kakushi, but the crimson scar screamed the truth. Of the irreversibility of death. Demons have their heads cut off. Humans have their heads cut off. But humans, unlike demons, do not put themselves back together.

Shinobu did not scream. She did not cry. Instead, her artificial, empty smile returned to her face, distorting into something frightening, insane, and icy. "Is that so…" she whispered, and the whisper made even Sanemi shudder. Shinobu’s tone was saturated with poison of such concentration that it seemed the air around her became toxic. "Tomioka-san mistook a human for a demon. What an… annoying… blunder. Where is he?"

"Shinobu…" Kyojuro tried to intervene. "Tomioka is beside himself with grief. He is broken. It was instinct, he didn't…"

"I asked where he is," Kocho’s voice clanged like steel. Her eyes, devoid of highlights, now resembled bottomless wells filled with black hatred. At that moment, the Shinobu you had loved died. At that moment, an avenger was born, for whom neither forgiveness nor understanding existed.

She spent the whole night with your body. Locked in the morgue of the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu let no one in. She washed your body herself. She took the needle and surgical thread herself. Every movement of her fingers sewing your flesh back together was saturated with agony. She remembered how you laughed, how your hands gently touched her cheeks, how you promised that you would grow old together.

Now, all of that was shattered. Destroyed by the person they had broken bread with, the person they had stood back-to-back with.

"I will not forgive," Shinobu whispered in the deathly silence of the room, looking at your face. "I killed demons because they took my sister from me. I killed them because they are monsters. But Tomioka… he is a human. And he took everything from me."

She leaned over you and kissed your ice-cold lips one last time. "I swear to you, my love. I swear by the blood in my veins. I will kill him. I will poison him, I will hunt him until the end of his wretched days. I will make him choke on his own blood."

The next morning, when your body was laid to rest, Shinobu stood at the grave without shedding a single tear. Her face was impenetrable. But inside her, a brilliant, genius pharmacist’s mind was at work. She was creating a poison. Not for demons. For a human.

Giyu Tomioka ceased to be a human. He became only a pale, walking shadow, a shell containing an ocean of guilt.

He could not close his eyes. Every time his eyelids lowered, he saw the flash of his blade and your falling body. He heard the sound of flesh being severed. He felt the scent of your blood on his hands, no matter how much he scrubbed them with sand and ice water. He stopped eating. He stopped sleeping.

He took the most lethal, suicidal missions. He burst into demon nests without using defensive stances, exposing himself to blows. But his body, trained to survive, moved on its own, killing enemies. He returned wounded, bleeding, but cursed with life.

He thirsted for punishment. And Shinobu became his punishing sword.

Their first skirmish occurred a month after your funeral. Giyu was returning from a mission, wandering through the hallways of headquarters. From around the corner, silent as a butterfly, Shinobu fluttered out. In her hand flashed a kunai coated in a powerful paralytic poison mixed with aconite.

She threw it straight at his neck. The Water Hashira’s reflexes worked—Giyu barely dodged, the blade leaving a deep scratch on his cheek. The poison instantly began to burn his skin.

Giyu did not raise his sword. He stopped, looking at her with his empty, dead eyes. "Kocho…" his voice was hoarse.

"Oh, Tomioka-san," she sang with a murderous smile, drawing her blade. "Such quick reflexes. It’s a pity you don't know how to control them when it concerns your comrades."

She lunged at him. Dance of the Insect. Fast, stinging strikes. Giyu dodged, retreated, but did not attack. He allowed her to cut him. Her blade’s edge left thin, bleeding lines on his arms and chest. The poison penetrating his blood caused unbearable pain, muscle spasms, but he endured. He believed he deserved every drop of that pain.

Only the intervention of Oyakata-sama via a crow forced Shinobu to retreat that day. But it was only the beginning.

She tried to poison his tea at meetings. She set ambushes for him in the forest. She shot him with poisoned needles. The other Hashira watched this perverted game of cat and mouse with horror. Sanemi and Obanai tried to talk to Shinobu, but her gaze forced them to retreat. They understood her pain. They did not dare judge her. And they saw that Giyu, in essence, agreed with her sentence.

He became an outcast by his own will. Guilt consumed him from within, corroding his soul worse than any acid. Life became an unbearable torture for him.

Six months passed. The rainy season hit the lands of Japan, turning roads into muddy rivers. The sky wept, as if mourning the sins of this world.

Giyu stood on a vacant lot outside his estate. Water streamed down his hair, soaking his uniform through. He had a broken arm after a recent battle with a demon, his body covered in deep lacerations he hadn't even bothered to bandage. He simply stood in the downpour, waiting for the cold and blood loss to take him.

But she came.

Shinobu appeared from the veil of rain. She wasn't wearing her usual haori. Only her black Slayer uniform. In her hand, she clutched not her usual stinger-blade, but a real, full-sized katana she had borrowed. The blade was coated in a lethal dose of wisteria and arsenic—a cocktail guaranteeing a painful death even to a Hashira.

"It’s time to end this farce, Tomioka," her voice cut through the sound of the rain. There was no more fake cheerfulness in it. Only pure, undisguised, primal hatred.

She lunged. Water sprayed in a fan from beneath her feet.

Giyu raised his sword, blocking the first strike solely on muscle memory. The ringing of steel was drowned out by a roll of thunder. Shinobu attacked again and again. Her strikes were full of blind fury. Giyu blocked, retreated, stumbled in the mud. His broken arm throbbed with hellish pain, but the pain in his chest was stronger.

With the next strike, Shinobu knocked the sword from his healthy hand. The Water Hashira’s blade flew into the mud.

Giyu did not attempt to pick it up. He did not try to use hand-to-hand combat. Instead, his legs gave out. The Water Hashira, one of the strongest swordsmen of his generation, collapsed to his knees in the icy mud before Kocho Shinobu.

Shinobu raised the sword for the final strike, aiming straight for his neck, wanting to repeat what he had done to you.

But the movement stopped.

Giyu raised his face to her. It was as pale as death. A mixture of rainwater, blood, and tears streamed down his cheeks. His eyes, always so detached, were now full of such unbearable, soul-tearing torment that the sight could have broken even a demon.

His chest rose convulsively. He folded his hands on his knees and bowed his head low, down to the very mud, before her.

"I beg of you…" his voice broke, turning into a pathetic, intermittent sob. This was not the voice of a proud warrior. This was the voice of a broken, destroyed man pleading for an end. "Please, Kocho… I beg you."

Shinobu froze. The rain drummed on the blade of her raised sword. "What?" she hissed.

"Kill me," Giyu raised his head, his eyes desperately searching hers. His lips trembled. "Please, finish this. I can’t anymore. I can’t close my eyes. I see her. I see her face every time I blink. I feel her blood on my hands. I hate myself more than you could ever hate me. This guilt… it’s burning me alive. Please, Shinobu… show mercy. End it. I want to die."

He opened his arms, exposing his chest to her, completely defenseless, surrendered, begging for death as if it were the greatest gift.

Shinobu looked at him. She did not see a murderer before her. She saw a pathetic, shattered cup. She saw a person who was dead inside, whose soul was torn to pieces by the feeling of his own guilt.

Her hand clutching the hilt of the lethal blade trembled. All her hatred, all her thirst for revenge that had been accumulating these long months, collided with the reality of his torment. She wanted to punish him. She wanted him to suffer just as she had suffered losing you.

She slowly lowered the sword.

Giyu flinched, not understanding. He looked at her with panic in his eyes. "Why?" he exhaled. "Do it. Please!"

Shinobu looked at him with unspeakable contempt, but somewhere deep, at the very bottom of her broken heart, pity stirred. A pathetic, humiliating pity for this destroyed man.

"Death…" Shinobu’s voice was quiet, but it sounded louder than thunder. "Death would be a release for you, Tomioka. Death would bring you peace."

She took a step back. "You ask me for mercy? You took the life of a person who trusted you. You took my light from me. And you want me to give you peace?"

She threw the katana into the mud next to him with contempt. "No," the icy verdict escaped her lips. "I won't kill you. I won't do you that favor."

Giyu groaned, clutching his head with his hands, his fingers digging into his hair. "No… Kocho, I beg you! I can't live like this!"

"You will," she cut in ruthlessly. "You will live. You will wake up every morning with her face before your eyes. You will live with this burden until your heart stops from old age or in battle. You will carry this guilt every breath, every second of your miserable existence. This is your punishment."

Shinobu turned her back on him. The rain washed the blood from her clothes, but it could not wash the poison from her soul.

"I will never forgive you, Giyu Tomioka," she called over her shoulder, her voice dissolving into the noise of the downpour. "I will hate you until my last breath. Live with it. Live and suffer."

She dissolved into the night mist, leaving the Water Hashira kneeling in the mud. Giyu Tomioka was left alone with his demons, filling the wasteland with a desperate, choking scream, begging the heavens for a death that never came. Shinobu had gifted him life, but that life was more terrifying than any hell.

[teaandtweed]

Hi! I’m like a huge fan of your writings, and especially since shinobu is my favorite character and all. Could you maybe write one of shinobu x fem!reader where reader is the newest moon hashira (age is the same as shinobu’s), and belongs to the Tsugikuni family, so she kinda inherited moon breathing. The reader is calm, serious, but is very respectful towards all the hashira and has a special like towards aoi, kanao, sumi, naho and kyio especially after started having a crush on shinobu. I was thinking something like, after they met, reader and shinobu keep getting closer but shinobu keeps pushing reader away cause she often finds herself thinking too much about the tsukiguni. So, one night, reader goes to shinobu’s office t try and talk the matters, but shinobu enters into a spiraling panic, venting to the reader about how she can’t put a name to the feelings she’s having towards her since we know our girl shino is clueless in romance canonically) and after all that, to shut her up, the reader kisses her and names those feelings love, and they kinda have a moment (in which could be turned into a non explicit smut but just clear that something between them).

Anyways, I hope you like this request, it’s kind of an OC of mine but less detailed. And tomorrow is my birthday btw, so I’m asking this as a birthday gift, (I’m kidding please don’t take me seriously). Love your work! Xo

Hi, thanks for your kind words. And happy birthday!! Since it’s your birthday today, I decided to prioritize your request. Usually, all requests are handled in the order they’re received, but since today is a special day, I decided to change my plans a little. I’m sure the readers won’t mind. Right? Right? Right? (Just a reference to an anime, by the way.)

Consider it a birthday present—it’s always nice to get a birthday present.

The Hidden Phase of the Moon

Shinobu Kocho x female reader

Word Count: 2899

The wind wandering through the Ubuyashiki estate garden that day felt unusually cold, even though the calendar read mid-spring. Wisteria petals settled softly onto the perfectly even gravel while the nine strongest swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps knelt before their master. A palpable tension hung in the air, thick enough to be cut with a blade. You were the cause of this tension.

Oyakata-sama, with his invariably soft, soothing smile, had just introduced you to the others. Y/N Tsugikuni. The new Moon Hashira.

Your surname rang out like thunder in a clear sky. Every Hashira knew the old legends passed down by word of mouth, hidden in the most secret archives of the Slayers. Tsugikuni—the family that gave the world the first user of Sun Breathing, but also the family that birthed the greatest betrayal. The family whose blood ran in the veins of an Upper Moon. And now, standing before them, was you—an eighteen-year-old girl, the same age as the Insect Hashira, with eyes in which the calmness of a deep, dark night lake rippled.

Shinobu Kocho, who had bowed her head slightly to your left, was stealthily studying your profile. Your slayer uniform was standard, but over it, you wore an elegant dark blue haori with a pattern of silver crescents. Resting on your belt was a katana with an unusually long handle and a tsuba resembling a total eclipse. You radiated an aura of seriousness and unwavering calm, which contrasted sharply with the whisper of anxiety that ran among the Hashira.

"Tsugikuni…" Sanemi Shinazugawa growled in disbelief, barely restraining himself from jumping to his feet. "Oyakata-sama, with all my boundless respect… Are you sure we can trust the blood of this cursed clan? Moon Breathing… that is…"

"That is enough, Sanemi," Kagaya Ubuyashiki’s voice was quiet, but it instantly silenced the Wind Hashira. " Y/N has proven her loyalty to humanity. Her sword strikes demons with the same ruthlessness as yours. She has inherited the technique of her ancestors, but her heart belongs to us. From now on, she is your equal comrade. The Moon Hashira."

You slowly raised your head and, turning to the others, bowed respectfully, touching your forehead to the ground. Your movements were precise, fluid, and devoid of any aggression. "It is a huge honor for me to stand among you," your voice was even, without a single tremor, deep and calm. "My blade and my life belong to the Demon Slayer Corps. I know the weight of my name. And I swear to wash away the disgrace of my ancestor with the blood of every demon that stands in my path. I hope for your support and guidance."

Shinobu felt goosebumps run down her spine. There wasn't a drop of arrogance in your voice. Only heavy, conscious humility and steel determination. When the meeting came to an end, the Hashira began to slowly disperse. Kyojuro Rengoku was the first to approach you, smiling widely and greeting you loudly; Giyu Tomioka merely nodded in silence, while Sanemi demonstratively turned away. Shinobu approached last.

Her face was adorned with her customary, flawless smile, behind which hid an entire ocean of suppressed anger and pain. "Welcome to our ranks, Tsugikuni-san," Shinobu sang, and her voice sounded like the ringing of silver bells. "What an unusual and… intriguing legacy you carry. I hope we can get along. If you ever need medical assistance, the doors of the Butterfly Mansion are always open to you."

You looked into her large, violet eyes, devoid of highlights. You understood at a glance that this smile was just a mask, a facade behind which a wounded soul was hiding. "Thank you, Kocho-san," you bowed your head. "I will keep that in mind. And please, call me just Y/N. My clan’s name should not stand between us."

Shinobu only giggled, covering her lips with the sleeve of her butterfly haori, but something strange twitched in her chest. Your direct, serious gaze pierced right to the bone, making her feel as though all her secrets were laid bare.

Months passed. During this time, the Hashira managed to verify your strength. Moon Breathing in your execution was a mesmerizing and frighteningly beautiful dance of death. Silver blades, woven from your will, sliced demons to pieces before they could even realize their demise. You were taciturn, focused, and impeccably polite to everyone. But the real surprise for everyone, especially for Shinobu, was how you behaved off the battlefield.

After one of the difficult joint missions, you ended up at the Butterfly Mansion. Your wounds weren't critical but required bandaging and rest. It was there that Shinobu saw that side of you that no one expected to find in the heiress of a bloody clan.

You sat on the veranda, illuminated by the soft rays of the afternoon sun. Kiyo was curled up comfortably on your lap, and Sumi and Naho sat on either side, listening intently to the fairy tale you were reading to them in your deep, soothing voice. Your eyes, usually cold as a winter night, now radiated tenderness. You gently stroked Kiyo’s head, carefully running your fingers through her hair.

When Aoi Kanzaki, eternally angry and fussy, accidentally dropped a basket of laundered linens, you, without even interrupting your reading, rose fluidly, appeared beside her in an instant, and helped her gather the things. "Don't blame yourself, Aoi," you said softly, noticing how the girl was ready to burst into tears out of frustration at her own clumsiness. "You’ve been working since dawn today. Go get some rest, I’ll hang these sheets myself."

Even Kanao Tsuyuri, whose heart was locked behind many bolts, found a strange comfort in your presence. You didn't make her toss a coin. You just sat beside her in the garden, and you could sit for hours watching butterflies flutter by in absolute, comfortable silence. You accepted her as she was, without demanding words.

Shinobu watched this from the window of her office. She squeezed a glass flask in her hands so hard she risked cutting herself. The girls from her mansion, her little sisters, were drawn to you like flowers to the sun (or, rather, to the moon). And the strangest thing was—Shinobu didn't feel a prick of jealousy. On the contrary, watching how you smiled—barely noticeably, with just the corners of your lips when Naho braided a flower into your hair—the Insect Hashira felt a frightening, hot feeling spreading in her chest.

You were the embodiment of a paradox. Lethal power, a cursed name, but such an incredibly kind, caring heart. It was during those days spent at the mansion that you realized you had fallen in love with Shinobu. You fell in love with her caustic comments, with how funnily her nose crinkled when she was angry, with her dedication to her work, and with the hidden pain she carried on her fragile shoulders. You wanted to become a shield for her. You wanted to take some of her burden away.

But the more you tried to get close, the colder Shinobu became.

It started with small things. If before, Shinobu could afford to stay late after training to have tea with you, now she invented ridiculous excuses, citing urgent experiments with poisons. If you stopped by the infirmary to check on the wounded, she tried to leave the room under the pretext of an urgent round. Her smile in your presence became plastic, stretched to the limit, and her eyes avoided your gaze.

You, being a direct and serious person, couldn't understand the reason for such a sudden change. You didn't push, respecting her personal boundaries, but with each passing day, the abyss between you grew, echoing with a dull pain in your heart.

For Shinobu, those days had turned into a living hell. Her outstanding mind, capable of synthesizing the most complex antidotes in mere hours, was helpless before her own heart. Every time she saw you, her pulse quickened to unhealthy rates, her breath caught, and a treacherous blush flooded her cheeks. For a person who had suppressed all her sincere emotions for the sake of revenge, such physical manifestations were akin to a severe illness.

Shinobu, who knew nothing about romance and had never allowed herself to think about love, began to seek a logical, scientific explanation for her condition. And, being consumed by the darkness of her profession, she found the worst excuse possible.

"It’s all because of her surname," Shinobu convinced herself at night, pacing the laboratory. "She is a Tsugikuni. She is connected to the Upper Moon. Subconsciously, I feel a threat. My body reacts to her as a danger. This rapid pulse is an adrenaline spike before a fight. This trembling is an instinct for self-preservation. I’m afraid she will betray us. I’m afraid of losing the girls if she turns out to be an enemy. Yes, that’s it. It’s just an instinctive fear of Moon Breathing!"

She lied to herself so selflessly that she almost believed it. But every time she remembered how tenderly you stroked Kanao’s hair, how your deep voice sounded in the silence of the garden, her brilliant logic crumbled into dust, leaving her in a state of total, helpless panic. And that is why she pushed you away. She pushed you away as hard as she could to protect her fragile, artificial world from destruction.

But you were a Hashira. You weren't accustomed to retreating before difficulties, and even more so—to allowing a loved one to drown in their own fears.

It was late at night. The Butterfly Mansion had plunged into sleep, and only the light of an oil lamp burned dimly in the Insect Hashira’s office window.

You walked through the long wooden corridors, and your steps were absolutely soundless. You wore a simple black kimono, your hair loose over your shoulders, shimmering with silver in the moonlight falling through the shoji. You had made a decision. Today, these games of hide-and-seek would end. You had to know what had caused Kocho’s disfavor. If she wanted you to leave the mansion and never approach the girls again—you would do it, no matter how much it hurt. But you had to hear it from her personally.

You stopped before the office door and knocked twice, softly, with your knuckles on the wooden frame. "Shinobu. It’s me. We need to talk."

On the other side of the door, there was a crash of a falling stack of papers and the tinkling of a rolling vial. After a few long seconds, her voice sounded—unnaturally cheerful and high-pitched: "Oh, Y/N-san! What a surprise! I’m afraid I’m incredibly busy right now… I have here… a very important report for Oyakata-sama. Shall we postpone our chat to… let’s say, next month?"

You didn't answer. You simply slid the shoji aside and entered the office, carefully closing the door behind you.

Shinobu stood by the table, clutching some scrolls. Deep shadows from lack of sleep lay beneath her eyes. Seeing you, she instinctively took a step back, pressing her lower back against the edge of the table. Her eternal smile wavered, threatening to shatter into pieces at any moment.

"Shinobu," you walked closer, stopping at a respectful distance. Your voice was low, calm, and enveloping. You didn't use polite suffixes. You spoke to her as an equal to an equal. "I ask you to listen to me. I know you’ve been avoiding me for three weeks. I see how you leave the moment you catch sight of me in the hallway. If my presence, if my blood, and my surname cause you disgust… tell me directly. I will leave. I will never step across the threshold of the Butterfly Mansion again and will not disturb your girls. I don't want to cause you pain."

These words, spoken with such sincere, stoic sadness, were the final straw for Shinobu’s fragile nervous system.

The dam broke.

"Disgust?!" Shinobu suddenly snapped, her voice trembling, rising an octave. The smile vanished without a trace, giving way to absolute, uncontrollable despair. The scrolls fell from her hands to the floor. "You think it’s disgust?! Y/N, you… you are completely unbearable!"

She covered her head with her hands, her fingers digging into her dark hair with violet tips. The Insect Hashira’s breathing became ragged; her chest heaved heavily. Panic overtook her completely.

"I can't… I can't control it!" Shinobu rattled, words flying out of her in a fast, incoherent stream. "You are a Tsugikuni! You are connected to Moon Breathing, you should be a threat, you should inspire fear! I’m a doctor, Y/N, I know how the human body works! I tried to diagnose myself! When you’re near, I have tachycardia, my pulse goes over one hundred and twenty beats! My palms sweat, my thoughts get tangled. I can't synthesize the simplest poison because I keep seeing how you smile at Aoi!"

You took a step forward, your eyes widening slightly in surprise, but she waved her hands desperately, forbidding you from approaching.

"No, don't come closer! Listen to me! It’s fear, right? It’s just an instinct of self-preservation before the Tsugikuni clan!" tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks, glistening in the lamp’s light. She looked like a confused, frightened child. "But why then… why then do I want you to always be nearby? Why does it hurt so much when you go on missions? Why do I want… want to touch you? It’s a disease, Y/N! I’m poisoned, and I don't even know the name of this poison! I don't understand what’s happening to me!"

She was choking on words, trembling all over. All her composure, all her genius as a Hashira shattered against the misunderstanding of her own human feelings.

You looked at her, and your heart, which a second ago had constricted with pain, suddenly began to beat evenly and strongly, filling with boundless tenderness. You understood. The brilliant chemist, the icy avenger, the frightening Shinobu Kocho simply didn't know what love looked like.

You didn't listen to her excuses and medical terms anymore. You took two quick steps, closing the distance between you. Before Shinobu could cry out or pull away, you gently but decisively cupped her face in your warm, strong palms.

She froze, her eyes widening in shock. And then you leaned in and covered her lips with yours.

The kiss was soft, but the unquestionable authority of the Moon Hashira could be read in it. It was as if you were transferring your calmness to her, pouring it straight into her lungs. You felt Shinobu tense up like a string ready to snap, but a second later… she surrendered. Her hands, a moment ago trying to push you away, timidly rested on your shoulders, then desperately clutched at the fabric of your kimono. She responded to the kiss clumsily, but with such a searing passion and need that your head began to spin.

When you finally pulled away slowly to let her breathe, Shinobu was breathing heavily, her eyes were hazy, and her lips were swollen. She looked up at you with awe and absolute confusion.

You affectionately brushed your thumb against her tear-stained cheek. "This 'poison' has a name, Shinobu," your voice was low, saturated with adoration and a soft smile that you gave only to her. "It’s love. Ordinary, human love. You aren't sick. You just fell in love with me, just as strongly as I fell in love with you from the very first day we met."

"Love?.." Shinobu whispered with her lips only, as if testing the word for taste. All her logic, all her defense mechanisms collapsed, leaving only ringing, relieving clarity behind.

She suddenly laughed quietly, sincerely, burying her forehead in your shoulder. There wasn't a gram of falsehood in this laughter—only pure light breaking through the darkness of many years.

"How foolish I am…" she muttered, her hands sliding over your waist, pressing you tightly to her. "The Insect Hashira who couldn't recognize the most obvious symptoms."

"It’s okay," you kissed her softly on the crown of her head, inhaling the scent of wisteria and herbs radiating from her hair. "I will remind you of this diagnosis every day until you learn it by heart."

Shinobu raised her head; her eyes now shone not with tears of panic, but with a desire that burned through all obstacles. "Y/N…" her voice became quiet, husky, and unbearably intimate. "My office… there is a daybed here. And the door locks from the inside with a very sturdy bolt."

You understood her without extra words. Picking Shinobu up in your arms, which made her gasp quietly and wrap her arms around your neck, you carried her to a small alcove in the depths of the room.

That night, the shadows of the Tsugikuni clan forever left Shinobu’s mind. In the silence of the Butterfly Mansion, hidden from the whole world, you finally found each other. The rustle of falling silk fabric, intermittent, hot breathing, and quiet moans full of tenderness filled the room. Your hands, accustomed to holding a lethal sword, proved incredibly gentle, exploring every curve of her body, forcing Shinobu to arch toward your touch and whisper your name as if it were a prayer. You kissed her scars, wiped away her pain, proving to her with every movement that your strength existed only to protect her.

She gave herself to you completely, without remainder, allowing the moonlight to heal her wounded wings. And when dawn came, illuminating the two entwined figures on the daybed, Shinobu Kocho slept on your chest in a completely peaceful sleep, knowing that as long as the Moon Hashira was nearby, she no longer needed to fear anything.

[roonieswag]

hickeys on thighs drive me crazy

[teaandtweed]

Hi! Me again! I love the two you’ve done for me, I was wondering if you could maybe do a Kanao one this time, They aren’t sisters but Kanae and Shinobu rescued them from the same bald man, Kanao of course became quiet and unable to make her own decisions, but reader… well the trauma made her constantly angry, the only person she was ever calm with was Kanao, reader decides to become a slayer like Kanao but goes a year earlier, she makes it through and is the one to convince Kanao to go, reader uses Star breathing, one she created herself, reader gets called on a mission and due to her still very rampant anger issues, gets distracted and gets hurt badly, she still manages to kill the demon but almost dies, she’s brought back and Kanao maybe helps her learn to control her anger and at the same time she teaches Kanao to choose for herself… they fall in love and Reader realizes and starts pushing Kanao away until Kanao is attacked by an injured slayer who she rejected and reader attacks him, maybe end with a confession and a kiss?

The Light of Extinguished Stars

Kanao Tsuyuri (kny) x female reader

Word Count: 3082

The world around you smelled of road dust, sweat, and dirt. Ropes dug into your thin, childish wrists until they bled, but you had stopped crying long ago. Your tears had dried, giving way to an entirely different feeling. It was born somewhere deep in your chest—hot, dark, and pulsating. As the bald man with the greasy face dragged you along like cattle to the slaughter, the girl walking beside you was utterly hollow. You weren't blood sisters, but the rope binding you together made you sisters in misery. She stared into the void; her soul seemed to have left her body to avoid feeling the pain. She had broken, retreating into a dull, absolute silence where there was neither fear nor hope.

But you... you were burning. Your trauma didn't make you quiet. It turned you into a clot of concentrated, churning rage. You hated this man. You hated the ropes. You hated the passersby who turned away, pretending not to notice two tormented children. You wanted to sink your teeth into your tormentor’s throat and tear until you tasted blood.

And when two girls in beautiful cloaks—Kanae and Shinobu—bought your freedom, literally throwing money into the face of that bastard, the fire inside you didn't go out. On the contrary, once you were free, it flared up with renewed force.

At the Butterfly Mansion, you were washed, dressed, and fed. Kanao remained a silent doll, unable even to eat without an order. Shinobu was angry, Kanae smiled softly and gave her a coin. But you... you broke three cups in the first week. The moment someone approached you from behind, the moment someone raised their voice, blinding rage would flare up inside you. You snarled, threw punches at the Kakushi, and broke wooden training swords, rubbing your palms raw until they bled. Your anger was your shield, your way of saying to the world: "No one will ever dare to hurt me again."

No one, except for Kanao.

With her, and only with her, the storm inside you would subside. When you looked into her empty, emotionless eyes, your anger was replaced by a poignant, desperate tenderness. You could sit beside her on the veranda for hours, silently interlacing your fingers. With her, you didn't need to defend yourself because she posed no threat. Kanao was your anchor in a sea of rage, and you became the only source of warmth she responded to, however faintly.

Years passed. You grew up under the care of the Hashira. You quickly realized that the only way not to go insane from the aggression overflowing within you was to direct it at those who truly deserved death. The demons.

Kanae tried to teach you Flower Breathing, but it required a grace and lightness that you lacked. Shinobu showed you Insect Breathing, but that required cold, calculated cunning, and you were too impulsive. Your fury was uncontrollable, like a supernova explosion. And so, you created your own path.

Star Breathing.

It was a style based on incredible speed, destructive power, and dazzling, explosive attacks. You concentrated all your anger, all your hatred into your blade, and then unleashed it in a single lethal strike.

You turned fifteen when you decided to head to the Final Selection. A year earlier than Kanao.

The evening before you left, you sat in the wisteria garden. Kanao held her coin in her hands, her fingers trembling. "I will return, Kanao. I promise," your voice, usually sharp and growling, became soft as velvet beside her. You reached out and covered her palm, hiding the coin. "You don't need to toss it to know if I’ll survive. I will survive for your sake."

You kept your word. You returned from the Selection covered in blood, with a scar on your shoulder and a broken rib, but with a burning gaze and a Slayer uniform. When you entered the mansion courtyard, Kanao, for the first time in many years, took a step toward you without an order or a coin. She simply walked up and pressed her forehead against your uninjured shoulder.

That evening, you talked to her for a long time. "You can do this too, Kanao," you whispered, stroking her hair. "You don't have to be a doll. You have power within you, immense power. I’ve seen how you watch Kanae-san’s training. Go to the next Selection. Not because someone ordered you, but because you want to yourself. Let me be your reason if you can't find your own."

And she went. A year later, Kanao returned from the Final Selection, having become a Slayer. You were so proud of her that your heart felt like it would burst.

Your paths as Slayers rarely crossed on missions, but you always returned to each other. However, your anger, which made you so strong, was a double-edged sword. You were too easily provoked.

It happened in a remote mountain village terrorized by a demon that fed exclusively on young girls. When you tracked it down, it was sitting on the roof of a temple, playing with a blood-stained hair ribbon.

"Oh, what an angry little bird," the demon hissed, licking its lips. Its narrow-pupiled eyes glittered mockingly. "You smell just like that girl I ate for breakfast. She was angry too when I broke her fingers. And then she just... whimpered."

The demon’s words hit you like a whip. Memories of that bald man, of the ropes, of the helplessness flashed before your eyes. Blood rushed into your ears. Instead of assessing the situation, analyzing the distance, and attacking with certainty, you lost control.

"I’ll rip your filthy tongue out!" you roared, gripping the katana handle until your knuckles turned white.

"Star Breathing. Fourth Form: Meteor Fall!"

You lunged forward, not caring about defense. Your blade crashed down on the demon from above, smashing through the temple roof. But the demon was faster and trickier. It was a trap. The moment your sword was supposed to cleave his neck, he bent at an unthinkable angle. His arm, transformed into a blade of sharpened bone, ran straight through your side.

The pain was blinding, paralyzing. You choked on your own blood. But the rage proved stronger than the pain. In that same second, spitting blood, you grabbed the sword with your left hand.

"Star Breathing. Fifth Form: Supernova Explosion!"

A flash of dazzling light flooded the night courtyard. Your blade described an unthinkable arc, burning the air, and the demon’s head flew off his shoulders with a sickening slop. The demon began to crumble into ash; his mocking cry drowned in the night. And you, having lost your support, collapsed to the ground. Blood pulsed from the wound, soaking your uniform. The stars overhead began to fade, and the last thought before the darkness swallowed you was Kanao’s name.

You woke up to the sharp smell of medicine and quiet bustle beside you. The attempt to breathe resulted in such hellish pain in your side that you groaned through clenched teeth.

"Shh... don't move," a quiet, almost ghostly whisper sounded.

You opened your eyes with difficulty. Kanao was sitting by your bed in the Butterfly Mansion infirmary. Her usually expressionless face was now pale, and deep shadows lay beneath her eyes. She squeezed your healthy hand with her thin fingers so tightly that it seemed she was afraid you would disappear if she let go.

"Kanao..." you wheezed. Her violet eyes, like two deep pools, filled with tears. She didn't reach for her coin to decide whether to cry or not. The tears simply rolled down her cheeks, falling onto the sheet. For the first time in your memory, she was crying.

Recovery was long and agonizing. Shinobu lectured you until the walls shook, calling your behavior reckless and idiotic. You were angry. Angry at yourself, at your weakness, at the demon, at the aching pain. You lashed out at the Kakushi who brought you bitter medicine and even threw a pillow at Aoi when she tightened the bandages too much.

But the moment Kanao entered the ward, your anger evaporated.

She took care of you. She fed you with a spoon, changed your bandages, and brushed your tangled hair. And, most surprisingly, she began to teach you the one thing you lacked. Calmness.

One afternoon, when you were once again starting to rage because you couldn't stand up properly, Kanao sat down silently beside you and placed both palms on your chest, where your heart was pounding frantically. "Breathe," she said quietly but firmly. "With me. Inhale."

You looked into her eyes. There was such an infinite, soothing depth in them. You slowly inhaled. "Exhale. Leave the anger here, with the exhale. You don't need it anymore, Y/N. I’m here. You’re safe."

Day after day, week after week, you healed each other. She taught you to control the inner demon of rage. You taught her to make decisions. When she reached for her coin to choose which tea to brew—green or jasmine—you gently covered her hand with yours. "What does Kanao want?" you asked, looking her straight in the eyes. "Not the coin. Not an order. What do you want?" And Kanao, timidly, stammering, answered: "I... I want green."

Every such small victory felt like a holiday. In those long days of rehabilitation, your relationship moved to a new level. You caught yourself watching her lips. Watching how sunlight played in her dark hair. Watching how gracefully and carefully she touched your skin. You had fallen in love. Fallen in love so deeply and desperately that it scared you more than death.

Realizing your own feelings became a curse rather than a blessing for you.

When you were finally able to walk and started training in the yard, you began to analyze yourself. You were nothing but sharp angles, an exposed nerve ready to explode. Your nature was Star Breathing, fire and destruction. And Kanao... she was a fragile butterfly just starting to spread her wings. She was learning to feel, learning to live without orders.

"I will burn her," you thought, fiercely striking the mannequin with a wooden sword. "Sooner or later I’ll snap, my anger will burst out, and I’ll destroy the fragile peace she has only just attained. I am not worthy of her purity."

Your fear of hurting her proved stronger than love. And you chose the stupidest, cruelest path—you began to push her away.

When she came to your veranda in the evening, as before, you would stand up, throw a cold: "I’m tired, I’m going to sleep," and leave. When she tried to talk to you after training, you answered in monosyllables, looking away. You saw the misunderstanding and pain in her widened eyes. You saw her hand reaching for her pocket for the coin again, instinctively, because she didn't understand what she had done wrong and how to fix it. Each of her movements resonated in your heart like a bleeding wound, but you told yourself it would be better this way. For her.

You started asking for missions more often, took the furthest patrols, just to avoid crossing paths with her in the mansion. You tried to burn your feelings in battle, but Kanao’s image, her quiet voice, and soft hands haunted you every night.

Your alienation lasted for a month. The Butterfly Mansion began to seem foreign to you.

That day, you returned from a short assignment. You handed in your report to Shinobu and were walking through the courtyard to your room, feeling incredibly exhausted. Suddenly, a tense male voice and the sound of a struggle reached your ears.

You stopped instantly. Your Slayer instincts howled. You silently glided around the corner of the veranda and saw a scene that made your eyes darken with rage.

Deep in the courtyard, backed against a wisteria trunk, stood Kanao. A tall, muscular Demon Slayer loomed over her. His head was bandaged; he had been receiving treatment at the mansion for the last couple of weeks. You remembered him—an arrogant, self-confident type who joked lewdly at the Kakushi far too often.

Now, his face was twisted with malice, and his hand was roughly squeezing Kanao’s thin wrist.

"Are you completely mute, you idiot?" he hissed, leaning in close. He reeked of sake. "I’ve been hitting on you for three weeks! I’m a Slayer, I spill blood for your sake! You could at least smile or say a few kind words instead of staring at me with your fishy eyes! Answer me when I’m talking to you!"

Kanao tried to pull her hand away, but he was too strong. Her free hand trembled, hovering over the pocket where her coin lay. She didn't know what to do. Panic began to paralyze her body.

For you, time slowed down. All that control Kanao had taught you, all your mantras about tranquility, crumbled to dust. The glow of your rage eclipsed your reason. No one. Dare. Touch. Her.

You didn't use your sword. You didn't need Breathing. Your body operated on pure, primal adrenaline.

In three giant leaps, you crossed the yard. The Slayer didn't even have time to turn his head when you crashed into him from the side, knocking him off his feet like a maddened bull. He flew several meters, crashing onto the wooden decking with a thunderous clatter.

Kanao gasped, pressing her freed hand to her chest, her eyes widening.

You didn't stop. A beastly roar erupted from your chest. You jumped on top of the stunned guy, pinning him to the boards with your knee. Your left hand gripped his throat in a death grip, cutting off his air, while your right balled into a fist, pulled back for a devastating blow. Your eyes burned with a crazy, maniacal fire. You were going to smash his face into a bloody pulp. You wanted to break every bone in his body for daring to leave a bruise on her skin.

"Die, scum," you growled, and your fist began its descent.

But the blow never hit its target.

Someone gripped your raised arm with both hands. The grip was surprisingly strong, desperate.

"Y/N! Stop! Please!" a clear, crystal-like voice rang out, piercing the veil of your rage.

You froze, breathing in heavy, whistling gasps. The guy beneath you wheezed, convulsing, his face beginning to turn blue. You turned your head slowly, as if in a dream.

Kanao was on her knees beside you. Her eyes were full of tears, but there was no fear of you in them. There was only pleading.

"Let him go, Y/N," her voice trembled, but she spoke on her own. On her own. "He’s not worth it. Don’t dirty your hands. Please, look at me. Breathe."

Her words acted like ice-cold water. The veil of rage lifted, leaving exhaustion and trembling behind. You slowly loosened your fingers on the guy’s throat. He greedily gulped for air, coughed, and, looking at you with horror, scrambled backward, then just ran away, stumbling and clutching his neck.

You sat on the floor, breathing heavily. Your hands were shaking. This was it. You had snapped. You had shown her the monster you were so desperately trying to hide. You covered your face with your palms, feeling a lump rising in your throat.

"Forgive me," you whispered dully through your fingers. "Forgive me, Kanao. This is why I was leaving. This is why I kept my distance."

You felt soft, warm hands touch your wrists and carefully pull them away from your face. Kanao moved closer, so close that you could smell the wisteria from her hair.

"Why?" she asked quietly but persistently.

The tears you hadn't shed since childhood suddenly burned your eyes. Your defensive barriers collapsed.

"Because I’m a monster," your voice broke into a miserable sob. "I’m full of anger, rage, and hatred. My Breathing burns everything around me. And you... you are so gentle, Kanao. You’ve only just started to live. You deserve someone calm, someone who won't snap over trifles. I’m afraid that one day my fire will burn you. I love you so much that it was easier to push you away than to allow myself to destroy your life!"

The words burst out, hanging in the evening air as a heavy confession. You bowed your head, expecting her to stand up and leave. Expecting her to be frightened by your intensity.

But instead, Kanao cupped your face in both hands, forcing you to look up at her. Her large, expressive eyes shone in the gathering twilight. There wasn't a shadow of fear in them. There was only unwavering, absolute certainty.

"You aren't a monster, Y/N," her voice, though quiet, sounded harder than steel. "You are my light. When we were there... with that man, I gave up. My world turned gray. And you... you didn't give up. Your anger is what helped you survive. And your anger is what protected me today."

She traced your cheek with her thumb, wiping away a lonely tear.

"I don't want someone calm. I want you," Kanao sighed deeply, as if gathering her thoughts, and then reached into her pocket. She took out her copper coin. The very same coin that Shinobu and Kanae had taught her to make decisions with. The very same coin her life had depended on for so many years.

You flinched, deciding that she was about to toss it to decide whether to stay with you or not. But Kanao didn't toss it. She swung with force and hurled the coin far into the wisteria bushes. The quiet clatter of metal against stone rang out, and the coin vanished forever.

"I don't need the coin anymore," Kanao whispered, returning both hands to your face. Her cheeks flushed with a deep blush, but her gaze didn't waver. "Because I’ve already decided everything myself. I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not afraid of your fire. I will be the rain that calms you."

Your heart skipped a beat, then began to pound with insane, deafening joy. All the pain, all the doubts and fears evaporated, swept away by the power of her words.

You leaned forward, and your lips met.

The kiss wasn't violent or explosive. It was incredibly gentle, timid, as if you were both afraid of shattering the moment. You felt Kanao exhale into your lips; her hands slid over your shoulders, embracing your neck and pulling you closer. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pressing her to you, feeling the warmth of her body. In this touch was everything—the bitterness of past trauma, the long healing, and the promise that from now on, you would handle everything together.

Your inner fire no longer roared, demanding destruction. It turned into the steady, warm light of a star that warmed without burning. You had found your peace, and she had found her voice. And nothing in this world could ever separate you again.

[teaandtweed]

Heyyy

May I ask for shinobu x fem reader. Shinobu just does whatever the reader wants, even the simplest order from her, she would immediately stop what she's doing just to tend to it. And whenever she accidentally snaps at anyone at the butterfly mansion, just one look from the reader and she would immediately stop that just makes kanae giggle and tease her sister. One day tanjiro and the others got curious why shinobu is so obedient with the reader, only to find it out themselves, and they found themselves being punished by running up the mountains and back for half a day straight.

The Power of a Soft Gaze

Shinobu Kocho x female reader

Word Count: 3378

The Butterfly Mansion was always a place of contrasts. On one hand, it was a quiet oasis, drowning in the scents of wisteria, medicinal herbs, and freshly brewed tea. On the other, it was a strict medical center ruled by iron discipline, enforced by Shinobu Kocho. The Insect Hashira was known for her unwavering determination, sharp wit, and a smile that masked a frightening, and at times poisonous, temper. No one in their right mind dared to defy Shinobu when she was immersed in her work or when she was pushed to the limit by neglectful patients. No one, except for one person.

That person was you.

It remained a great mystery to all the residents of the mansion how you—a girl with a quiet voice and gentle manners—had managed to achieve what no other Hashira, not even Kanae, Shinobu’s eldest sister, had managed. You didn't possess an intimidating aura, you didn't carry heavy swords, and you never raised your voice. But you held absolute, unquestioned power over Shinobu Kocho.

It was an ordinary Tuesday. The laboratory was thick with the scent of roots crushed in a mortar and alcohol. Shinobu had been working on a new antidote for the fourth hour straight. Her brows were furrowed, and her fingers, clad in protective gloves, measured out drops of dangerous reagents with surgical precision. An aura of such intense concentration radiated from her that even Aoi, who needed to deliver a report, hovered by the door, not daring to enter and interrupt the Hashira.

You sat in an armchair in the corner of the lab, slowly turning the pages of a book. Sunlight fell upon your hair, creating a halo of calmness around you that contrasted sharply with the tense atmosphere of the room.

You turned the page, sighed quietly, and looked up at Shinobu. "Shinobu," your voice sounded quiet, but in the ringing silence of the lab, it was like the chime of a crystal bell. "I think I’m a little cold. And the tea in my cup has gone completely cold. Perhaps we could take a break and sit on the veranda?"

Aoi at the door squeezed her eyes shut in terror. Interrupting the Insect Hashira during the synthesis of a complex poison because of cold tea? It was akin to suicide. Aoi was already prepared to hear Shinobu’s icy, sarcasm-laced response about how some people were busy saving lives.

But something unthinkable happened.

Shinobu froze instantly. The pipette with the dangerous reagent was placed back into the rack with neat but incredible speed. Her protective gloves were removed in one elusive motion and tossed onto the table. The tense crease between her brows smoothed out, and the most sincere, warm smile blossomed on her face, devoid of even a trace of her usual poisonous irony.

"Of course, my dear," Shinobu cooed, walking over to you. "How could I not notice that there’s a draft here? Forgive me for my inattentiveness. Let’s go to the veranda; I’ll bring you a blanket and brew fresh jasmine tea, just the way you like it."

She gently took your hand, helping you up, and led you toward the exit, completely ignoring the unfinished antidote that a minute ago had been more important to her than anything in the world. Aoi, standing in the doorway, barely managed to jump aside, watching you both go with a stunned expression.

In the hallway, you ran into Kanae. The elder Kocho was carrying a stack of fresh towels. Seeing how her formidable younger sister had readily abandoned all her important tasks just to brew tea, Kanae couldn't restrain a quiet, melodic chuckle.

"Oh, Shinobu," Kanae said with gentle mockery, covering her mouth with her haori sleeve. "And here I was thinking you were going to finish that antidote before sunset. Didn't you tell me this morning that nothing in the world could distract you?"

Shinobu’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't even think about letting go of your hand. "Circumstances have changed, Onee-san," Shinobu hissed through her teeth, though her voice remained honey-sweet. "Y/N is cold. The antidote can wait an extra half hour, but Y/N’s health and comfort cannot."

"Of course," Kanae giggled again, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Our little, formidable Insect Hashira becomes an obedient house cat the moment Y/N asks. It’s so charming. Y/N, you should write a manual on taming Hashira."

"Don't listen to her, Y/N," Shinobu quickly led you down the hallway, throwing a murderous look at her sister, which, however, didn't impress Kanae in the slightest. "Come, I can already feel that your fingers are freezing."

But Shinobu’s absolute obedience to your requests was only half of the phenomenon. The second, much more impressive part of this dynamic manifested during moments when Shinobu lost her composure.

It was no secret that beneath Shinobu’s mask of a polite smile lay a volcano of rage. And sometimes, this volcano erupted.

It happened the next day in the mansion’s inner courtyard. One of the young Kakushi, recently transferred to the Butterfly Mansion, carelessly dropped a tray of rare glass flasks. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the yard.

Shinobu, who at that moment was explaining the medicine intake schedule for the severely wounded to Aoi, turned slowly. A pulsing vein bulged on her forehead. The smile on her face became so wide and unnatural that the Kakushi turned pale and began to tremble, sensing his imminent death.

"Oh... how interesting," Shinobu’s voice was quiet, but that icy whisper sent shivers down the spines of everyone present. "Tell me, my dear Kakushi... do you know how many months it took to ship this glass from abroad? Do you know how much one such flask costs?"

She began to slowly advance on the cowering youth. The air around her seemed to become heavy, permeated with invisible poison.

"I assume your hands grow from the wrong place," Shinobu continued, her tone becoming increasingly threatening. "Perhaps I should perform a small surgical operation and sew them where they belong? What do you think, hm? Or maybe I should use you as a test subject for my new paralytic poison? Since you’re so clumsy, paralysis would be a favor to you..."

You were sitting on the engawa, a few meters from the unfolding scene, sorting through a basket of freshly picked herbs. You didn't scream. You didn't jump up and run to them.

You simply set aside a bunch of mint, lifted your head, and looked at Shinobu.

It was a long, calm, deep gaze. There was no anger or judgment in it. It was a look that carried a silent reproach and a gentle call to stop.

Shinobu, who had been a step away from actually injecting the poor guy with something unpleasant, suddenly froze, as if she had bumped into an invisible wall. She felt your gaze on her. Her shoulders, tense as strings, dropped sharply. The frightening aura dissipated in an instant, like morning mist under the rays of the sun.

She turned her head slowly toward you. You continued to watch her in silence, your head tilted slightly to the side.

Shinobu exhaled convulsively, closed her eyes for a second, and then turned back to the Kakushi. The vein on her forehead had miraculously disappeared.

"However," Shinobu said, and now her voice was truly calm and even a little tired, "glass is just glass. The important thing is that you didn't get hurt. Please, clean everything up carefully so no one steps on the shards, and be more careful in the future."

The Kakushi, who had already mentally said goodbye to his life, collapsed to his knees, showering her with gratitude, not believing in his miraculous salvation.

Shinobu quickly walked over to you, sat down next to you on the edge of the veranda, and hung her head guiltily, like a child caught in mischief.

"Forgive me, Y/N," she said quietly. "I almost lost it again. You know I can't stand negligence. But you’re right, I shouldn't have scared him like that."

You smiled softly and reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s alright, Shinobu. You stopped in time. I’m proud of you."

Kanae appeared from around the corner, having watched the entire scene from start to finish. She approached, gracefully covering her lips with her haori sleeve, her shoulders shaking slightly from suppressed laughter.

"Amazing," Kanae sang. "Simply amazing. No shouting, no persuasion. One single look—and our ferocious butterfly folds its wings. Y/N, if Oyakata-sama knew about your talents, he would appoint you as the chief supervisor over all the Hashira."

"Onee-san!" Shinobu exclaimed indignantly, her face flooding with a deep blush. "Stop talking nonsense! I just... I just respect Y/N’s opinion."

"Of course, of course," Kanae gently patted her younger sister on the head, despite her weak attempts to dodge. "It’s called 'respect.' I’ll write that in my diary."

News of the strange dynamic between you and the Insect Hashira couldn't remain a secret for long, especially when three of the loudest and most curious Demon Slayers were in the mansion.

Kamado Tanjiro, Agatsuma Zenitsu, and Hashibira Inosuke were undergoing rehabilitation after a difficult mission. And they had far too much free time.

It started when Zenitsu witnessed you asking Shinobu to help you untangle a ball of yarn. The Insect Hashira, who terrified Zenitsu with her mere presence, sat obediently on the floor and held the yarn on outstretched arms while you wound it into a ball. Shinobu didn't even look annoyed; on the contrary, she seemed absolutely happy and peaceful.

Zenitsu ran into the infirmary with wide eyes.

"I’m telling you, it’s magic!" he whispered hysterically, waving his arms. "Shinobu-sama is a demon in human form, we all know that! But with Y/N, she acts like an angel! Y/N must be using some kind of hypnotic demon art! Or she put a love spell on her!"

"Don't talk nonsense, Zenitsu," Tanjiro frowned, sitting on his futon. "Y/N is human. And I don't smell any magic or lies coming from her. Y/N only smells of kindness and warmth. And when Shinobu-san is near Y/N..." Tanjiro sniffed, recalling his sensations. "Shinobu-san radiates the scent of absolute devotion. And... immense, unconditional love. But the scent of anger, which is usually always inside her, isn't there at all."

"That’s because that quiet woman is the real Boss!" Inosuke growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "She defeated the Queen of Bugs in a one-on-one duel and took her title! I must challenge this Y/N! If I beat her, I’ll be the boss of this mansion!"

"Inosuke, no! You won't fight anyone!" Tanjiro protested. "Y/N isn't even a slayer."

"But it’s strange, Tanjiro!" Zenitsu persisted. "Yesterday, Shinobu-sama almost made me drink a bucket of that bitter medicine just because I yelled in the yard. But when Y/N just looked at her, Shinobu-sama calmed down immediately and said I only had to drink one cup! Y/N has some kind of secret. Some secret word or gesture she uses to control the Hashira. We have to find out! If we learn this secret, we can use it so Shinobu-sama stops torturing us during training!"

Tanjiro, despite his righteousness, couldn't deny that Shinobu’s training was brutal, and the idea of finding a way to make it a bit softer seemed tempting. Plus, his own curiosity had been piqued. Why did such a strong, independent, and sometimes frightening woman like Shinobu show such incredible obedience?

"Fine," Tanjiro nodded. "But we won't do anything wrong. We’ll just observe them from the side. We’ll try to understand what the secret of their interaction is. It will be... a stealth mission."

The next day, the trio began executing their plan. Finding out from the girls that you and Shinobu had gone to the far part of the garden to drink tea in the gazebo, the boys decided to set an ambush.

They crept through the dense azalea bushes, trying not to make a sound. Zenitsu trembled, expecting a snake or a poisonous spider to jump out of the bushes at any moment. Inosuke kept trying to stand up straight and charge through, but Tanjiro pulled him back into the mud every time by his pants.

Finally, they got close enough. Through the foliage, they could see the gazebo. You were sitting on a bench, and Shinobu, to their great surprise, was sitting on the floor right in front of you, resting her head on your lap. You were gently running your fingers through her violet strands, and Shinobu was dozing, her face relaxed and peaceful.

"Just look!" Zenitsu squeaked barely audibly. "The Insect Hashira is sleeping on someone's lap! If I had tried to get that close to her, she would have pierced me with her sword!"

"Quiet!" Tanjiro hissed, peering into the scene. "They’re talking about something. We need to listen. Maybe Y/N is saying a spell right now!"

The boys held their breath and stretched their necks, trying to catch a single word of the quiet conversation in the gazebo.

"...are you sure you don't want to rest in the room?" your gentle voice reached them. "It might be chilly here."

"I’m always warm with you, Y/N," Shinobu murmured without opening her eyes, pressing her cheek against your knees. "I just want to stay like this for a little longer. No reports, no demons, no fuss. Just you and me. You make me so calm. When you look at me, all my anger... it just disappears. I’m ready to do anything for you, as long as you always look at me like that."

Zenitsu’s jaw dropped. Tanjiro blushed to the very roots of his hair from eavesdropping on such a personal and intimate moment. Even Inosuke went quiet, not understanding the meaning of what was said, but feeling the importance of the moment.

"So that’s the secret..." Tanjiro whispered. "There is no magic. It’s just love. Y/N is her quiet harbor."

"Oh, so that’s love?" Inosuke asked too loudly, in his usual bass voice. "Does that mean if I also fall in love with the Queen of Bugs, she’ll give me her title?!"

Zenitsu panicked and covered Inosuke’s mouth with both hands, but it was too late. The crunch of dry branches under their feet and Inosuke’s loud voice echoed through the garden like a clap of thunder.

In the gazebo, Shinobu instantly opened her eyes. The peaceful expression vanished from her face, replaced by cold, deadly composure. She rose from your lap in a fraction of a second.

The boys in the bushes froze.

"Tanjiro," Zenitsu whispered, tears of terror streaming down his face. "She... she doesn't smell like love anymore, does she?"

"Run. Right now," Tanjiro answered with his lips, his face turning pale.

They turned to bolt, but suddenly, a violet figure materialized before them right out of thin air.

Shinobu stood before them, blocking their path to retreat. Her hand rested on the hilt of her blade. Her face wore that very same soul-chilling smile that made demons’ blood run cold. An aura of such dense bloodlust swirled around her that Zenitsu almost lost consciousness on the spot.

"And what are you boys doing here?" Shinobu sang, tilting her head to the side. "Spying on other people's conversations? Crawling in the mud like pathetic worms and ruining my favorite azalea bushes? What kind of punishment do you think is deserved for spying on a Hashira in her own home?"

"Sh-Shinobu-sama, we can explain everything!" Tanjiro waved his hands. "We were just... we were just collecting a herbarium!"

"Looking for strong bugs to fight!" Inosuke roared, taking a fighting stance, despite his knees shaking.

"I don't want to die! Don't make me a test subject, I beg you!" Zenitsu sobbed, falling to the ground.

Shinobu took a step forward, her smile widening even more. "Oh, I won't kill you. That would be too boring. I think I’ll test a new drug on you that causes hallucinations and makes a person feel like thousands of centipedes are crawling through their veins..."

The boys screamed in unison.

And then, from behind Shinobu’s back, soft footsteps were heard. You walked up to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Shinobu flinched and turned to you. Her deadly aura instantly dimmed.

"Shinobu, dear," your voice was calm, with a slight note of reproach. "Don't scare them so much. They are still children and just too curious. Please, no centipedes."

Shinobu sighed deeply. She looked at you, then back at the trembling trio. Her eyes narrowed, but the bloodthirstiness was gone.

"As you wish, Y/N," Shinobu said, and her voice became soft again as she addressed you. Then she turned sharply to the boys, and her tone shifted to a commanding one. "You are incredibly lucky that Y/N has such a kind heart. But I’m not going to forgive the spying. You wanted to unravel the secret of my strength? Excellent. Your secret is endurance."

She pointed a finger toward the high mountain rising behind the mansion.

"You three. Run to the mountain top and back. And do it without stopping until the sun goes down. If you stop for even a second, if you try to cheat or sit down to rest, my butterflies will inform me. And then you will find out what real hell is. Go. Move!"

Her tone brooked no objection. The boys, realizing this was their only chance to stay alive, jumped to their feet and, kicking up clouds of dust, bolted toward the mountain as fast as they could. Inosuke was shouting something about being the first to arrive, Zenitsu was sobbing, cursing his legs, and Tanjiro was simply thanking all the gods that you were nearby.

Several hours passed. The sun began to slowly sink toward the horizon, painting the sky in golden and crimson hues.

You and Shinobu were sitting on the veranda, sipping fresh tea. Kanae had joined you, enjoying the scene unfolding in the distance.

From the mansion's height, the mountain trail was perfectly visible. Three figures were running along it, heavily shifting their feet. They stumbled and fell every now and then, but kept getting back up and continuing their endless marathon, apparently terrified to death by the prospect of facing Shinobu’s wrath.

"Poor boys," Kanae said sympathetically, but with a slight smile. "They’ve been running for almost six hours now. Maybe you should forgive them? They’re barely alive."

Shinobu elegantly sipped tea from her cup, not even looking in their direction. "They must learn a lesson, Onee-san. The Hashira’s personal space is inviolable. Besides, this training will be good for their breathing. Oyakata-sama would be pleased."

You looked at Shinobu, who now looked so relaxed and satisfied with life. Then you shifted your gaze to the exhausted boys on the mountain.

You sighed quietly, setting your cup on the table. Your hand rested on top of Shinobu’s hand.

"Shinobu," you called softly.

Shinobu turned her head to you instantly. Her eyes, in which sadistic sparks had been dancing just a second ago, softened instantly.

"I think they’ve already understood everything," you said, looking her straight in the eyes. "They have been punished enough. Let them return and take a bath."

Shinobu looked at you for a few seconds. Her gaze held a slight struggle between the desire to extend the punishment for the annoying boys and the absolute impossibility of refusing you any request.

The struggle didn't last long. Shinobu gently squeezed your hand in return.

"Alright, Y/N," her lips stretched into a sincere, tender smile. "If you ask it of me, I will let them go."

Kanae, watching this scene, laughed quietly again, hiding her face behind her sleeve. "You know," the elder Kocho sang. "The boys were looking for some great secret, a secret technique or magic by which you subjugated Shinobu. They thought it was something complicated."

Kanae leaned closer to you both, her eyes shining warmly. "But they didn't understand the main thing. There is no magic. It’s just that when someone loves as strongly and faithfully as Shinobu loves you... you don't need words or orders for subjugation. One look from you is enough."

Shinobu blushed deeply, turning away, but she didn't let go of your hand, merely interlacing your fingers tighter.

"Onee-san, you talk too much," the Insect Hashira grumbled, hiding her face in embarrassment.

You smiled softly, pressing your shoulder against Shinobu’s, and looked at the setting sun. The boys, hearing about the end of their punishment, collapsed joyfully onto the grass right where they stood. Peace reigned in the Butterfly Mansion once again. And, looking at the embarrassed but so happy Shinobu next to you, you understood that this mysterious bond between you was the most precious thing you had. And no secrets in the world could compare to that.

[teaandtweed]

Hello I absolutely love your work, Can you do a shinobu x fem reader who uses Bone breathing, and has known shinobu since her and Kanae join the demon slayer corps. And treats Shinobu and everyone super kindly and is extremely calm but constantly acts on her impulsive thoughts. Often saying it out loud and then actually acting on it. It was very very consistent when they were teens, but it lessened when they got older. But still happens a lot. To the point where Shinobu and All the butterfly girls can just tell when the reader is having an impulsive thought and about to act on it. Also acts on impulsive thoughts during battle, and never notices. Just does it. The only times the reader really TRIES to contain intrusive thoughts is during Hashira Meetings. But 25% of the time the reader acts on it. The reader does it unconsciously and doesn’t know why she does it. I don’t really know how it should end so it’s up to you.

White Bone and Purple Butterfly

Shinobu Kocho x female reader

Word Count: 3525

Among all the swordsmen who ever wore the Demon Slayer uniform, you always stood out for your special, almost frightening serenity. The Bone Breathing you practiced required absolute, unwavering concentration from its user. It was an offshoot of Stone Breathing, but while Stone relied on raw, crushing power and the immobility of a mountain, Bone was about something else. Your style focused on internal structure. On finding vulnerable joints, on understanding how the enemy's body was put together, and on pinpoint, destructive strikes that broke the very foundation upon which the opponent stood. To see these invisible lines of fracture, your mind had to remain smooth and serene, like the surface of a forest lake on a windless day.

And you truly were that way. Everyone around knew you as a girl with a soft voice, a kind smile, and infinite patience. You never raised your voice, didn't get angry over trifles, and were ready to listen to anyone's problems, from the youngest Kakushi to a stern Hashira. Your aura radiated warmth and reliability.

But this serene lake had one strange property: sometimes, for no apparent reason, geysers of absolute chaos would erupt on its perfectly smooth surface.

Your intrusive, impulsive thoughts.

For most people, such thoughts are merely fleeting, strange scenarios that the brain throws up out of boredom, which a person immediately discards. "What if I throw this glass at the wall right now?", "I wonder what would happen if I bit this person on the nose?" An ordinary person gets scared of such thoughts and forgets them. You, however... you simply voiced them out loud. And the very next second, you brought them to life.

Your face would remain just as serene and relaxed, as if you hadn't done anything unusual, but were simply drinking your morning tea. This paradox of your personality drove many mad, but for one particular girl, it became an integral part of you. A part she learned to read like an open book.

Your history with Kocho Shinobu and her older sister Kanae began many years ago, when you were all still quite young. You joined the Slayers around the same time they did, orphaned but unbroken. At that time, Shinobu was a true prickly hedgehog. She was angry at the whole world, her eyes burned with a thirst for revenge, and her character was sharp and temperamental. Kanae, on the other hand, was the embodiment of kindness and forgiveness.

You met at the Wisteria House after a difficult mission. You were sitting on the engawa, calmly treating scratches on your hands, when the Kocho sisters came out into the courtyard. Shinobu was arguing loudly about something with her sister, actively waving her arms. You watched her for a long time with your quiet, unblinking gaze.

And then, in a completely calm tone, you interrupted their argument: "You know, I think I’m going to go over and flick Shinobu on the forehead right now, because her nasal bridge crinkles so funnily when she’s angry."

Shinobu froze mid-sentence, staring at you with such bewilderment, as if you had spoken in the language of demons. "What the hell are you talking about?" she snapped irritably.

But you didn't answer. You simply stood up, walked over to her, and, without changing your blissful expression, neatly but perceptibly flicked her on the forehead. Click.

Grave silence fell. Shinobu flushed with rage, her hand instinctively twitching toward the hilt of her katana. "A-are... are you out of your mind?! Why did you do that?!"

"I told you I was going to do it," you replied softly, tilting your head to the side. "I just thought about it, and my body carried out the order on its own. Your nasal bridge really does crinkle very cutely."

Kanae, who was watching this scene, suddenly laughed ringingly, covering her mouth with her haori sleeve. This laughter defused the situation, and from that very day, you became inseparable.

In your teenage years, your impulses were frequent and sometimes uncontrollable. Shinobu remembered how once, during a joint patrol, you said: "I think I want to check how deep this river is without taking off my uniform," and the very next second, you stepped off the bridge right into the icy water, forcing Shinobu to dive in after you in a panic. She remembered how you said: "I’m going to braid the hair of this stray dog that’s growling at us," and you actually did it, miraculously avoiding being bitten.

Shinobu would get angry, lecture you, and call you "an impassable idiot with an angelic face," but she always... absolutely always stayed nearby to pull you out of the consequences of your own sudden decisions. Kanae’s death changed you both. Shinobu put on her sister’s mask, hiding her rage behind an eternal, affectionate smile. And you... you became even calmer, even quieter. Your impulses began to appear a little less often, but they didn't disappear. And now, Shinobu was the only one who could foresee them coming.

In the present, being a frequent guest (and sometimes a patient) at the Butterfly Mansion, you became a part of their big and strange family. The girls at the mansion—Aoi, Kanao, Sumi, Naho, and Kiyo—adored you for your boundless kindness. You could spend hours helping them wash bandages, prepare medicines, or just sit with Kanao in silence, not demanding a single word from her.

But all the residents of the mansion had developed a kind of radar for your state. It reached the point where they would notice changes in you before you even opened your mouth.

Everything started with subtle details. Your gaze, usually unfocused and soft, would suddenly become extremely sharp and latch onto a specific object. Your fingers would begin to tap a rhythm against your thigh almost imperceptibly. And then, a second of absolute silence would follow.

"Oh no," Aoi usually whispered, being the first to notice these signs. "Girls, take cover. Y/N-san is doing it again."

One summer day, you were sitting in Shinobu’s laboratory. The Insect Hashira was intently mixing reagents, working on a new wisteria-based poison, while you were simply drinking green tea, sitting on the tatami mat in the corner.

Your eyes settled on a glass flask with bright purple, bubbling liquid that stood on the very edge of the table. Your fingers froze on your cup. Your head tilted slightly to the side.

"You know, Shinobu," your voice sounded just as calm as if you were discussing the weather. "I think right now I want to take this flask of poison and pour it onto this beautiful ficus in the corner. Just to see how quickly its leaves will wither."

Shinobu didn't even turn her head. Her hand, holding the tweezers, darted to the flask with lightning speed, moving it to a safe distance in the center of the table, while her voice remained deceptively sweet:

"Oh, Y/N-san, I’m afraid that’s not the best idea. This poison costs an exorbitant amount of money, and this ficus was a gift from Oyakata-sama. If you do that, I’ll have to cause you a lot, lot of pain. And don't forget that I know anatomy better than any doctor in this country."

You blinked, as if returning to reality from some trance, and looked at your empty hand, which had already half-reached for the place where the flask had stood a second ago.

"Yes, I suppose you’re right. That would have been rude to the ficus," you agreed just as serenely, taking a sip of tea.

Shinobu sighed heavily, massaging her temples. She never understood how saintly purity and a thirst for absolutely meaningless, irrational chaos coexisted in your head. But she had learned to contain your episodes even before they led to catastrophe. She knew you better than she knew herself.

If in everyday life your impulses were just a quirk, then in battle they turned into a true test for the nervous system of anyone who fought side-by-side with you.

Bone Breathing made you deadly. Your blade, forged from a special, denser metal, didn't slice through flesh—it crushed joints and broke the vertebrae of demons, depriving them of the ability to regenerate properly. In battle, you were like a ghost—not a single emotion, not a drop of fear, only precise, mathematical calculation.

But your intrusive thoughts didn't make allowances for deadly danger. They came right in the middle of a bloody slaughter, and your body responded to them with frightening readiness, not even realizing the absurdity of the situation.

During a mission in the deep woods, you and Shinobu encountered a demon whose arms turned into long, razor-sharp whips made of bone-like protrusions. The battle was intense. Shinobu fluttered around the demon like a violet flash, injecting poison with tiny pricks, while you took the main hits, parrying them with your heavy blade and breaking the enemy's bone whips.

The demon roared, preparing to deliver a circular strike that would have wiped out everything within a ten-meter radius. Shinobu shouted for you to retreat.

You were already ready to take a step back, when suddenly your gaze fell on a long spike protruding from the demon's shoulder.

"I think I want to use this spike on his shoulder as a horizontal bar to do a backflip," you muttered absolutely calmly, right in the middle of the chaos of battle.

"Y/N, NO!" Shinobu screamed in horror, forgetting her signature smile.

But it was too late. Instead of dodging, you lunged forward, straight toward the deadly whips. You ducked under the strike, jumped onto the demon's knee, pushed off, and grabbed the blood-stained spike on his shoulder with both hands. The demon was stunned. You hung off him like you were on a pull-up bar and, using the momentum, actually performed a perfect backflip.

While upside down in the air, you said: "Bone Breathing. Third Style: Shattered Clavicle."

Your blade came crashing down, snapping the demon's neck and spine at the very base with a crunch. The demon collapsed to the ground, paralyzed, and at that moment, Shinobu delivered the finishing blow, injecting a lethal dose of poison right into his eye.

When the demon crumbled into ash, you landed softly on your feet, brushing the dust off your haori. Shinobu flew over to you, breathing heavily. Her eyes were throwing violet lightning bolts.

"You... you are completely insane!" she hissed, grabbing you by the lapels. "Do you have any idea that he could have sliced you in half while you were doing your circus tricks on his shoulder?! Why?! What for?!"

You looked at her with your usual, soft gaze and carefully placed your palms over her trembling hands.

"I don't know, Shinobu. My body just thought it would be effective. And, to be honest, I was very curious if that spike would hold my weight. It did."

Shinobu groaned, pressing her forehead to your shoulder. Her anger always quickly gave way to dull relief that you were alive. "One day you’ll lead me to my grave faster than any demon, Y/N," she muttered dully. "I swear, I’ll lock you in the basement of the mansion."

"I think I would want to dig a tunnel with a spoon if you did that," you answered honestly. Shinobu only squeezed the fabric of your haori harder, refusing to comment on that.

The only place where you truly, sincerely, and to the grinding of your teeth tried to contain your impulses were the Hashira Meetings. Out of the deepest respect for Ubuyashiki Kagaya, you forced yourself to concentrate on the rules of decency. You sat straight, breathed deeply, and mentally repeated mantras about tranquility.

But statistics were a ruthless thing. In seventy-five percent of cases, you managed to simply endure your intrusive thoughts, clenching your fists until your nails dug into your palms. But in the remaining twenty-five percent... the system would fail. You did it unconsciously; your brain would turn off the brakes, and the words would fly out of your mouth faster than you could think them through.

It was a warm autumn day. The Hashira Meeting was in full swing. Oyakata-sama hadn't appeared yet, and the Hashira were simply standing in the headquarters courtyard, exchanging news. Shinobu was standing next to you, periodically casting suspicious glances at you. You had been holding up well for an entire hour.

But then your gaze fell on Shinazugawa Sanemi. The Wind Hashira stood a few meters away from you, arms crossed over his chest. His unbuttoned uniform revealed a multitude of scars, and the straps cinching his chest looked very... tight.

Your brain sparked. Your eyes widened slightly. The fingers on your left hand twitched.

Shinobu, standing to your right, instantly caught this change. Her eyes widened, she opened her mouth to stop you, but it was too late.

"You know," your calm, melodic voice rang out across the courtyard, forcing all the Hashira to turn their heads toward you. "I’m about to go over to Shinazugawa-san, pull one of the straps on his chest, and let go, just to hear what sound it will make when it hits his skin. I think it will sound like a bowstring snapping."

Dead, ringing silence hung in the air. Tomioka Giyu blinked in confusion. Uzui Tengen choked on air, and Rengoku Kyojuro froze with a wide smile, not knowing how to react. Sanemi slowly turned his head toward you; his eyes filled with blood, and a vein bulged on his forehead.

"What did you grunt, you sicko?" he growled, baring his teeth. "Just try to come closer, and I’ll chop you into..."

But you were already walking. Your face was absolutely impenetrable, serene, like the visage of a Buddha statue. You didn't react to his threats. You were held captive by your impulse.

Shinobu bolted after you. "Y/N, for god's sake, stop! Shinazugawa-san, don't kill her, she knows not what she does!" shouted Kocho, losing the remnants of her composure.

You walked right up to Sanemi. He was so stunned by your audacity and lack of fear that he didn't even manage to draw his sword. Your hand rose gracefully, fingers catching the leather strap on his chest. You pulled it a few centimeters back.

Click.

The strap struck his scarred chest painfully. The sound was indeed loud and clear.

"Yes, just as I thought. Quite resonant," you stated with satisfaction, looking straight into Sanemi’s stunned eyes.

And the next second, hell broke loose. Sanemi roared like a wounded bear and lunged at you. You didn't even try to dodge, only blinked when Shinobu squeezed between you. She grabbed you by the waist, using all of her incredible speed, and leaped onto a wisteria branch, taking you out of the line of fire.

The other Hashira rushed to restrain the enraged Wind Hashira. Tengen laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes, Rengoku shouted loudly that this was "BRILLIANT BUT VERY DANGEROUS CURIOSITY!", and Obanai Iguro simply looked at you with unconcealed disgust and whispered to Mitsuri not to come near you.

Sitting on the tree branch in the arms of the heavily breathing Shinobu, you looked at the chaos below with slight confusion. "Why is he so angry?" you asked sincerely. "I warned him that I was going to do it. That was honest."

Shinobu covered her face with her palms. Her shoulders shook—whether from restrained anger or the hysterical laughter she was trying to suppress.

"Good God, what did I do to deserve this punishment," she groaned through her fingers. "You are the most unbearable, impulsive, and calm disaster on this planet."

Later that evening, after the Meeting had concluded (and Ubuyashiki had gently, with a kind smile, advised you to check the tension of straps on wooden dummies next time instead of on Hashira), you and Shinobu were sitting in the backyard of the Butterfly Mansion.

The cool night air was pleasantly refreshing on your skin. Crickets were singing their monotonous song. You sat on the edge of the wooden platform, dangling your feet into the garden, while Shinobu carefully combed your hair. This was their usual ritual, a moment of absolute peace when the world around froze.

Shinobu was silent for a long time, methodically running the comb through your strands. "I’ve tried to find an explanation for this from a medical point of view," she finally said quietly. Her voice was devoid of its usual playful intonations. It was serious and full of care. "Your impulses. The way your brain responds to stimuli. It’s like a short circuit between thought and action. Ordinary people have a filter. Your filter is either broken, or... you just trust your body too much."

You looked at the moon, enjoying the sensation of the comb in her hands. "I don't know why I do it, Shinobu," you admitted honestly. "When a thought arises, it doesn't seem stupid or dangerous to me. It seems... necessary. Like an inhale. If I don't voice it and do it, it feels like something inside me will break. Like a bone that has been pressed on too hard. Bone Breathing teaches me to look for fractures in others. But perhaps my own fracture is my head."

Shinobu set the comb aside. She moved closer, sat next to you so that your shoulders touched, and looked at your profile. In the silvery light of the moon, your face seemed perfectly serene.

She carefully took your hand in hers, interlacing your fingers. Her palm was warm, despite the night chill.

"You know, I was angry about it for a long time," Kocho whispered, looking at your joined hands. "I was afraid that one day your impulse would lead you to your death, and I wouldn't have time to catch you. I’m still afraid of that now, to be honest. Every time you open your mouth in battle, my heart stops."

You turned your head toward her. In her large, violet eyes, resembling the compound eyes of an insect, there was no mockery or hidden malice that she usually hid behind a smile. There was only deep, sincere, pulsing affection.

"But then I realized something else," Shinobu continued, and a faint, but real smile appeared on her lips. Not the glued-on mask that the other Hashira saw. "Your impulses are the only thing that proves you are alive. You are so calm, so proper and detached, that sometimes you seem like a spirit to me. An incorporeal shadow with a perfect blade. But when you suddenly decide to take a bite of a poisonous plant or pull Shinazugawa’s strap... in those moments, you are real. Funny, ridiculous, absurd, but alive."

She squeezed your fingers a little tighter.

"I’m not asking you to change, Y/N. I’m just asking you... to let me be nearby, to catch you when you decide to jump off another cliff, because you 'thought the rocks below looked like soft pillows'."

Warmth flooded through you, so strong and all-consuming that for a moment it drowned out any other thoughts in your head. You looked at her, at this girl who carried so much pain and hatred inside her, but who had learned to find oceans of patience for your sake.

Your mind became habitually empty, leaving only the smooth surface of the lake. And then, a slight ripple appeared on that surface. Another thought. Another impulse, bright and crystal clear.

"Shinobu," your voice sounded quiet but confident in the night silence.

"Yes, Y/N?" she looked at you expectantly.

"I think that right now I want to lean in and kiss you, because your lips in the moonlight seem softer than the wisteria petals in my garden."

Shinobu’s eyes widened in surprise. Her breathing hitched for a second. She was accustomed to your crazy, chaotic ideas, but this... this was completely different. This was what she had perhaps thought about deep down on long nights, but had never allowed herself to voice. She had a filter. She had fear.

You, however, had nothing but pure, undiluted intent.

You didn't wait for her answer. Your body was already carrying out the order. You leaned forward smoothly, unhurriedly, as if performing the most beautiful kata of Bone Breathing. Your free hand rested on her cheek, your thumb brushing her cheekbone. And then you pressed your lips to hers.

She flinched in surprise, but the Insect Hashira’s instinct, which had always forced her to pull away from a threat, didn't work this time. Instead, Shinobu exhaled quietly, her eyes closed, and she responded to the kiss. Her free hand buried itself in your hair, pulling you closer.

The kiss was gentle, long, and not impulsive in its essence, even though it was born from a sudden thought. There was no chaos in it—only calm, acceptance, and a sense of home.

When you finally slowly pulled away from each other, Shinobu looked at you with a hazy gaze. A blush burned on her cheeks, and her eternal, artificial smile had finally disappeared, giving way to a soft, slightly bewildered tenderness.

"You know, Y/N," Shinobu whispered, trying to even her breathing, and mischievous sparks danced in her eyes. "I think this is your first impulse for which I don't want to kill you."

You tilted your head slightly to the side, your face remaining as serene as always, but happiness shone in your eyes.

"Then," you answered calmly, "I think I will give in to this particular impulse much more often."

And this time, Shinobu didn't even try to stop you. She simply pulled you to her, laughing quietly in the night silence, happy that in her planned-out, tragic world, there was room for your beautiful, unpredictable chaos.

[teaandtweed]

Someone deleted the request, but thank goodness I still had a screenshot.

I had to look up a lot of things online—I don't really know much about live streams or slang.

Dual Stream

Shinobu Kocho x female reader

Word Count: 4351

The room was bathed in a pleasant, soft gloom, dissipated only by the neon lighting. LED strips ran along the perimeter of the ceiling, shimmering in deep shades of purple, smoothly transitioning into cold blue, and then into a delicate pink. In the corner of the room, a powerful system unit hummed softly—a true monster of the esports world, custom-built. Through the transparent side panel, one could see the coolers shimmering inside, resembling small glowing galaxies. The desk was in perfect, surgically precise order. Two enormous curved monitors, a professional studio microphone on a massive boom arm, a mechanical keyboard with custom lilac-colored keycaps that emitted a pleasant, dull click when pressed, and, of course, a streamer chair, the back of which was adorned with an elegant butterfly logo.

In that chair, with one leg crossed over the other, sat Kocho Shinobu—a girl whose name was spoken with bated breath on Twitch. In this alternative world, where demons existed only as pixelated monsters on a screen, Shinobu was one of the most popular and recognizable content creators. She belonged to an elite group of streamers called the "Hashira," which only admitted the best of the best. Each of the Hashira had their own unique niche. Tomioka Giyu, for example, was famous for his silent-as-a-fish speedruns of hardcore games; Uzui Tengen staged the brightest, loudest, and craziest IRL streams, blowing up the internet with his antics; Mitsuri Kanroji gathered thousands of viewers for cozy cooking streams and visual novel playthroughs; and Sanemi Shinazugawa was known for toxically roasting his opponents in shooters, breaking keyboards live on air.

Shinobu, however, was the queen of multi-gaming and psychological pressure. Her streams under the nickname Kocho_Shinobu gathered tens of thousands of viewers not only due to her phenomenal reaction time in esports disciplines but also because of her unique style of communication. She was always smiling. She spoke in an incredibly gentle, honeyed voice, with which she easily and gracefully declassified her opponents, driving them to white heat. Her poisonous, yet beautifully packaged commentary had become a true meme in the gaming community. Viewers adored her "toxic cuteness."

But tonight, the atmosphere in the room was different. There were exactly fifteen minutes left until the broadcast, and Shinobu hadn't even put on her signature headphones with cat ears. Instead, she turned in her chair, rolling a bit away from the desk, and cast her gaze toward a small sofa located out of the web camera's field of view.

That was where you sat.

Your hands nervously tugged at the hem of the oversized hoodie you had borrowed from Shinobu. Your eyes darted incessantly around the room, avoiding the black lens of the camera—which was still off, but already seemed to you like the eye of some terrifying monster ready to tear you apart in front of millions. You had never been a public person. You preferred to stay in the shadows, to be an ordinary viewer, to read books, to walk in quiet parks. And the thought that in a few minutes tens of thousands of pairs of eyes would see you, appraisingly scan your face, your clothes, and your mannerisms, caused a slight nausea from panic.

"Y/N," Shinobu’s soft voice cut through the silence of the room. It didn't have a drop of the streamer's affectation she used in public. Only sincere, deep tenderness.

You shuddered and looked up at her. Shinobu was smiling, but her violet eyes, usually hiding mockery, were now radiating only warmth. She rose smoothly from the chair, walked over to the sofa, and sat down beside you, taking your cold, trembling hands in hers. Her fingers, accustomed to incredible key-tapping speeds, were now gently stroking your knuckles.

"Your hands are like ice," she noted quietly, tilting her head to the side. "You can still back out, my dear. I will never force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I’ll just tell the chat that it’s a solo stream today, we’ll play some Valorant, I’ll tease Sanemi a bit in matchmaking, and that will be it. Just say the word."

You swallowed the lump that had risen in your throat. You knew how long Shinobu had been waiting for this moment. You had been seeing each other for over six months, and all this time, your relationship had remained a strict secret. Shinobu protected you from the insane attention of her fans, from potential stalkers and haters. But lately, she had talked more and more about how tired she was of hiding the most important thing in her life. She wanted the world (or at least her part of the world) to know about you. And despite your fear, you wanted the same. You didn't want to hide behind the scenes forever.

"No," your voice wavered slightly, but you tried to imbue it with firmness. "I… I want this. It’s just… what if they don't like me? What if they start writing nasty things? You know how cruel people can be on the internet. Your audience is used to a perfect image, to the Hashira, to esports. And I… I don't even know how to play properly. I’ll definitely ruin your match, and everyone will laugh."

Shinobu laughed quietly. This sound was like the ringing of silver bells, and it always had a calming effect on you. She moved closer and gently touched your forehead with her lips, leaving a light, weightless kiss there.

"Oh, my silly, sweet butterfly," she cooed, looking straight into your eyes. "First of all, if someone in my chat dares to write even one nasty word about you, they will fly into a permanent ban faster than they can blink. My moderators have already been instructed. I will personally tear their tongues out… metaphorically speaking, of course. Secondly, I absolutely couldn't care less about their opinion. I’m not introducing them to you to get their approval. I’m just stating the fact: this beautiful girl belongs to me, and I belong to her. And thirdly…" a mischievous, sly smile played on her lips—the very one her viewers adored. "Have I ever let anyone lose when I’m on the team? We’ll play a cooperative horror game. Your only task is to scream in fear and hide behind my back. The viewers will be thrilled. And I will be your knight in shining armor. Or, well, a samurai with a katana."

Her confidence was contagious. You felt the panic slowly retreating, giving way to light, tickling anticipation. You took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay. I’m ready."

Shinobu beamed. She hugged you impulsively, burying her nose in the top of your head.

"That’s perfect! And now come here, sit next to me. I’ve prepared a second chair for you."

She led you to the desk. Next to her gaming throne stood a second, equally comfortable chair. You sat in it, feeling as if you were taking the pilot’s seat of a spaceship before launch. Shinobu adjusted the lighting, checked the OBS microphone settings, put on her cat-ear headphones, and, casting one last encouraging glance at you, pressed the "Start Streaming" button.

As soon as the broadcast started, absolute madness began on the second monitor, where the chat was open. Messages flew in at such speed that they merged into one solid, unreadable river of text. Emotions, all caps, greetings, hearts in every color of the rainbow—it seemed thousands of people were shouting for joy at the same time. You sat a little further away, so that the camera lens wouldn't capture you. For now, viewers saw only the screen with the text "Stream starting soon" and heard pleasant, relaxing lofi music.

A minute later, the screen switched, and Shinobu appeared in the frame. You held your breath, watching how her facial expressions instantly transformed. She waved at the camera in a friendly manner; her eyes sparkled with feigned, but so charming, friendliness.

"Hello-hello everyone! My sweet butterflies, how is your mood today?" her voice flowed like thick honey, filling the room and the minds of thousands of viewers on the other side of the screen. "I hope you haven't missed me too much? I see many of you are already here. Hello, DemonSlayer99, glad to see you. Oh, TomiokaIsSad, thanks for the fifth-month subscription! I hope you all ate well today and finished your homework, because tonight we have a very, very long and unusual evening ahead of us."

The chat exploded with new messages.

“SHINOBUUUU!” “The Queen is in the building!” “Gonna roast Sanemi in Valorant again? Please say yes!” “You’re incredibly beautiful today!” “What does an unusual evening mean? Intrigue!”

Shinobu scanned the chat with her eyes, her smile widening slightly, revealing even white teeth. She leaned back in her chair, sighing theatrically.

"Oh, I see you’re asking me to invite Sanemi to the lobby again. You know, I would gladly, but I’m afraid that after last time, he hasn't bought himself a new mouse yet. They say he smashed it against the wall after I got an ace with a knife. Poor guy, his nervous system is so fragile," Shinobu giggled quietly, covering her mouth with her palm. This was her signature move that made viewers go crazy. "No-no, tonight we won't be mocking our dear Hashira. Or rather, we won't be doing it intentionally. Tonight, we have a completely different plan."

She held a dramatic pause. The chat slowed for a fraction of a second, listening.

"Tonight, my dears, I won't be playing alone," she said, lowering her voice to a mysterious half-whisper. "And no, it’s not one of the Hashira. It’s not Rengoku with his shouting that makes eardrums pop, and not Giyu, from whom you can’t drag words out with pincers. Tonight, I will be playing with a person who means more to me than all the ranked points in the world. A person I have been hiding from all of you for a very long time."

The chat literally exploded. The speed of the messages became cosmic. Viewers began building the wildest theories. Some wrote that it was her secret sister, others—that she had finally gotten a cat, but most of the comments were peppered with questions about relationships. The words "Boyfriend???", "IS SHE DATING???", "WHO IS IT?!" flashed before your eyes like stroboscope flashes. You felt your palms covered in cold sweat again. Your heart pounded so loudly that you thought the microphone would pick up the sound.

Shinobu turned her head toward you. She was no longer looking at the camera. Her gaze was riveted only to you. In her eyes, there was a silent question: Ready?

You swallowed convulsively, squeezed your eyes shut for a second, and then slowly but decisively nodded. There was no turning back.

Shinobu reached her hand out of the frame. You uncertainly placed your trembling palm into her confident, warm grip. Gently pulling you toward her, she forced your chair to roll out of the blind zone right into the light of the ring lamp.

You were on camera.

For a second, you thought time had stopped. You looked straight into the lens, feeling like a rabbit caught in headlights. You were wearing a large, cozy hoodie in a pale lilac color that was clearly too big for you; the sleeves covered your fingers almost completely. Your hair was slightly disheveled, and your face had zero professional makeup—just a light blush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks up to your ears. You waved awkwardly at the camera, trying to force a smile.

"H-hi…" your voice sounded quiet, almost squeaky, and you immediately mentally scolded yourself for it.

Shinobu, without letting go of your hand, moved closer to you so that your shoulders touched. She looked at you with such all-consuming tenderness and pride that this look could not be faked. And then she shifted her eyes to the second monitor with the chat.

"Meet my dear butterflies," Shinobu said, and her voice sounded uncharacteristically serious, without her usual poisonous mockery. "This is Y/N. My girlfriend. My greatest treasure and the reason I’ve been smiling so often lately—not just on streams, but in real life too. Please, be gentle with her. She is very nervous, and if you scare her, I will personally come for each of you in your dreams. I’m serious."

The chat stopped. Seriously, it just froze for a few seconds. And then a volcanic eruption occurred.

If the viewers had been typing quickly before, now the Twitch server seemed to be experiencing load issues.

“OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!!!” “SHE IS SO CUTE!” “SHINOBU IS TAKEN?! MY LIFE IS OVER (but you guys are so cute, crying)” “GIRLFRIEND?! WAAAAAOW!” “Protect Y/N at all costs!” “Tomioka is crying in the corner (jk)” “SHE IS WEARING HER HOODIE!!! DID YOU SEE?!”

Donations poured in one after another. The synthesized voice of the donation bot didn't stop for a second, reading out messages. People sent money just to congratulate you, to say how cute you looked together, and to wish you happiness.

You looked at this waterfall of positivity, and the tension that had been shackling your body all this time began to fall away. No one wrote anything nasty. No one discussed your appearance negatively. Shinobu’s viewers, who were famous for their snark and love of trolling, suddenly turned into an army of devoted fans ready to defend you from the whole world.

"Wow…" was all you could exhale, covering your mouth with your hand. Your eyes glistened with rising tears of relief. "They… they are so nice."

"I told you," Shinobu whispered in your ear, kissing you on the temple unnoticed by the camera. "They love me, which means they’ll love you too. And those who don't, we’ll feed to the demons. Just kidding! We won't feed them. Probably."

She winked at the camera, and the chat exploded with laughter again.

"Well, since the official part is over, let's move on to the games!" Shinobu loudly declared, switching to the desktop. "Y/N isn't very good at shooters, so tonight we won't sweat in ranked. Instead, we’ll play the new cooperative horror game, Lethal Company. The task is simple: we fly to abandoned planets, collect scrap metal, and try not to die at the hands of local monsters. Spoiler: we will die many times. Y/N, sunshine, put on the headphones."

You obediently put on the headset Shinobu had prepared for you. As soon as you connected to the game's voice chat, you heard the door of the virtual spaceship open with a hiss.

The first twenty minutes of the game went surprisingly smoothly and incredibly fun. You followed Shinobu like a lost duckling. Your game character in a ridiculous yellow spacesuit constantly stumbled, fell down stairs, and crashed into walls, which caused fits of "awws" among the viewers. Shinobu, on the other hand, acted like a professional mercenary. She gave you orders, shone her flashlight into dark corners, and killed small monsters with well-aimed shovel strikes, all while muttering her signature snarky comments.

"Y/N, dear, don't stand in the puddle, it’s acid. Come here, pick up this old kettle, it’s worth a whole fifteen credits!" she commanded.

"I… I’m trying! But it’s dark here and I can’t find the door!" you squeaked in response, feverishly spinning the mouse. The chat was dying of laughter.

And then, right in the middle of exploring a deserted bunker, a loud, deafening sound of joining the Discord channel rang in your headphones. Someone had brazenly burst into your private voice room.

"BRILLIANT! SIMPLY INCREDIBLY BRILLIANT!!!” Uzui Tengen’s bass boomed from the speakers. His microphone was so loud that you instinctively hunched your shoulders. "KOCHO! YOU’VE BEEN HIDING SUCH A RADIANT GIRL FROM US ALL THIS TIME?! THAT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT BRILLIANT ON YOUR PART!"

"I FULLY AGREE!" a second voice immediately broke in, belonging to Rengoku Kyojuro. He seemed to be shouting directly into his microphone, standing a centimeter away from it. "GOOD EVENING, Y/N! I AM RENGOKU KYOJURO, THE FLAME HASHIRA! I WISH YOU HAPPINESS AND LOTS AND LOTS OF DELICIOUS FOOD! UMAI!"

Shinobu rolled her eyes, but a suppressed smile played on her lips.

"Tengen, Kyojuro. You are interrupting our romantic stream. Who even gave you administrator rights on my Discord server?" she hissed through her teeth, although her voice remained deceptively sweet.

"I did," a third, quiet, and absolutely emotionless voice sounded. Tomioka Giyu.

"Tomioka-san," Shinobu narrowed her eyes, looking into the camera as if looking straight through it into Giyu’s soul. "I understand you’re here too? This is why no one likes you, Tomioka-san. You always show up where you weren't invited."

The chat went into hysterics. Interactions between the Hashira were always the favorite content for viewers. And now, when you had joined their company, the situation became even more comical.

"Don't pay attention to that mean butterfly, Y/N!" Uzui bassed cheerfully. "You’re very brilliant! Tell me, how do you even tolerate her poisonous character? She’s always biting everyone! If she bullies you, just tell me, my wives will gladly welcome you into our humble family!"

You blushed deeply, not knowing what to answer to such a barrage.

"Uzui. One more word about my girlfriend and your wives, and I swear I’ll delete all your Elden Ring save files," Shinobu sang, and steel notes slipped into her voice. The threat was too real, and Uzui immediately laughed conciliatorily, promising not to interfere anymore.

"Y/N-san," Rengoku suddenly addressed you. "DO YOU LIKE SWEET POTATOES?! WE MUST GO EAT TOGETHER SOMETIMES! IT’S ON ME!"

"Y-yes, thank you very much, Rengoku-san, I would love to…" you answered timidly, feeling your heart fill with warmth. They weren't judging you. They accepted you into their circle as easily and casually as if you had always been a part of it. You looked at Shinobu. She was looking at you, and her eyes were laughing. She was happy to see how you were integrating into her crazy, loud, but so sincere world.

"Alright, boys, you’ve had your say, and now scram from the channel. We are trying not to die at the hands of a Faceless Dog-like Something," Shinobu commanded, and without waiting for an answer, she simply kicked all three of them out of the voice chat. Silence reigned in the headphones once more, broken only by the dripping of water in the virtual bunker.

The game continued. The deeper you descended into the bunker, the bleaker the atmosphere became. Viewers watched with bated breath as your stamina indicator blinked red and your inventory filled with expensive but heavy scrap metal.

"So, Y/N," Shinobu said in a business-like tone, checking the radar on her terminal. "I have a big gear in my hands, I can’t run fast. You go ahead and shine the flashlight. The main thing is—don't make loud noises. Blind Dogs live here, they react to sound."

You nodded, though she couldn't see it in the game, and shone the beam of the dim flashlight into a long, rusty corridor. You walked slowly. Step by step. The silence pressed on your ears. The only sounds were your ragged breathing and the creaking of metal floors under your characters' feet.

Suddenly, ahead, on the border of light and shadow, something flickered.

"Sh-Shinobu… there’s something there," you whispered, and your real voice wavered with genuine fear. You hated jump scares.

"Don't panic, bunny. Slowly back up. Slowly…" Shinobu answered just as quietly.

You started pressing the 'S' key, backing up. And at that very moment, from the ceiling, emitting a soul-chilling metallic screech, a Bracken—a terrifying creature made of shadows and glowing eyes—jumped right in front of your face.

"AAAAAAAAHHH!" your scream was absolutely genuine. You jerked the mouse in panic, your character spun in place. You let go of the keyboard and, in reality, instinctively grabbed Shinobu’s hand, which was lying on the mouse, with both hands.

The chat exploded with spam from hundreds of OMEGALUL, F, and laughing emojis.

Total confusion began in the game. Because you grabbed Shinobu’s hand, she lost control. The Bracken grabbed your character by the neck and snapped it with a crunch, dragging the body into the darkness. A second later, the same fate befell Shinobu’s character, as she couldn't fight back because you were still holding her hand in a death grip.

The screen went dark. The inscription appeared: "YOU ARE DEAD. YOUR CORPS HAS BEEN FIRED."

Silence hung in the room, broken only by your heavy breathing. You slowly realized what had just happened. You didn't just ruin the match. You had killed you both in front of fifty thousand people because you got scared of a computer monster and grabbed the streamer.

You felt terribly ashamed. Your face flared red. You slowly let go of Shinobu’s hand and covered your face with your palms, ready to sink through the floor.

"P-sorry…" you mumbled through your fingers. "I told you… I would ruin everything… Oh god, this is so ridiculous."

You waited for Shinobu to sigh, or roll her eyes, or make a joke about your clumsiness. But instead of that, you heard a quiet chuckle. And then another. A second later, Shinobu was laughing at the top of her lungs. It wasn't her streamer’s, restrained laugh. It was the sincere, loud, almost gurgling laugh of a person who had just burst.

She turned toward you, clasped your wrists, and gently pulled your hands away from your face. Tears from laughter glistened in her eyes.

"Y/N… Oh my god, that was the cutest teamkill in the history of my streams," she squeezed out through laughter. "Did you see your face? You grabbed me so tight as if that monster was going to climb out of the monitor right now!"

You looked uncertainly at the second monitor, expecting to see a stream of hate from viewers who lost their channel points betting on your victory. But the chat… the chat was in absolute ecstasy.

“THE CUTEST JUMPSCARE IN HISTORY!” “AAAAA, SHE HID BEHIND SHINOBU, I CAN’T!” “My heart is melting, call an ambulance” “Shinobu isn't even mad about the thrown match. This is love, folks” “I DEMAND A YOUTUBE CLIP OF THIS MOMENT RIGHT NOW!”

Shinobu pulled you toward her and, absolutely ignoring that the camera was still running, hugged you tightly by the shoulders, kissing the top of your disheveled head.

"See?" she whispered, looking straight into the camera lens. "I told you, guys, that she’s the best. No tournament victories can compare to this moment."

You buried your face in her shoulder, feeling the embarrassment give way to absolute, boundless happiness. You felt cozy, safe, and the million eyes watching you from the other side of the screen no longer seemed hostile. They were just spectators of your love.

The stream lasted about two more hours. You played, laughed, died many times in the game, read funny donations, and just enjoyed each other's company and the audience. Shinobu told stories about how you met (omitting the too personal details, of course), and you even got bold enough that you started answering chat questions yourself, talking about your hobbies and how difficult it sometimes is to drag Shinobu away from the computer at three in the morning.

Time flew by unnoticed. When the clock on the computer showed half past midnight, Shinobu yawned sweetly, stretching in her chair.

"Well then, my dear butterflies, I think it’s time for us to wrap up for today," her voice had acquired a slight huskiness from the long conversation. "Y/N is already nodding off, and it’s time for me to rest too. This was an incredible stream. Thank you so much for welcoming my most important person so warmly. You are the best audience in the world. I am proud of you."

The chat filled with farewell messages, spam of hearts, and "Good night" emojis.

"We’re going to raid Mitsuri, she’s currently making pancakes on her night stream, so head over to her and say hello from us," Shinobu pressed a few buttons on the stream deck, setting up the raid. "Love you all, kiss you all. See you soon!"

She pressed the "Stop Streaming" button. The red indicator on the webcam went out.

Silence reigned in the room again, broken only by the measured hum of the system unit's coolers. Shinobu took off her headphones, laid them on the table, and leaned back in her chair with a heavy but satisfied sigh. She turned her head toward you. In the light of the violet neon strips, her face looked tired, but incredibly calm.

"So?" she asked quietly, reaching out and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Was it really that scary?"

You shook your head, feeling a wide, sincere smile bloom on your lips by itself.

"No. It was… it was amazing. I really liked it, Shinobu. Honestly. Your viewers are wonderful people. And the Hashira guys… they are very funny."

Shinobu laughed quietly, moving closer to you. She took both of your hands in hers and tenderly kissed each of them.

"I am so proud of you, Y/N. You held your own like a champ. And you charmed absolutely everyone. Even Sanemi wrote to me privately that you’re cool. And that, believe me, is the highest degree of praise from him," she smiled cunningly. "But most importantly… now I don't have to hide you anymore. Now I can officially brag to the whole world about what an amazing girlfriend I have."

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks again, but this time it was pleasant. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around Shinobu’s neck, and buried your face in her shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and coffee.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Shinobu hugged you back, pressing you tightly against her. At that moment, in this semi-dark room illuminated only by the light of the monitors, there were no thousands of viewers, no rankings, and no esports tournaments. There were only the two of you, and this small, cozy world that you had finally shared with each other.

"You’re welcome, my butterfly," Shinobu answered softly. "And now let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll have to rewatch a bunch of clips of your screaming on YouTube. I’m going to set that sound as my alarm."

"Hey!" you playfully punched her in the shoulder, making her laugh ringing once more.

And at that moment you realized that you were ready to share not only this evening with her, but also every next stream, every day, and every minute. Because on the other side of the screen or in front of it, as long as she was nearby, you weren't afraid of anything in the world.