My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character MASTERLIST
Featuring:
isekaid!older sister!Reader and younger brother!Gun Park
reverse harem: core five
Goo Kim, James Lee/DG, Samuel Seo, Gitae Kim, Jake Kim
reverse harem: minor love interests
Lang Jin/Jinrang, Seongji Yuk
Synopsis:
If God is real, then He has one hell of a sense of humor.
Life hasn’t been perfect. There were ups and downs, times where you wished you were born as someone else, someone prettier or richer or more talented, but you had reached a point where you were content. Happy, even. A promotion abroad, a new apartment with no roommates, delicious paychecks and what does the Big Guy do? He kills you. What’s more pathetic is that you died choking on chicken skin while celebrating your new life of independence.
Just when you were an official, proper, working adult of society, the universe spat in your face and now you were back to square one.
No, scratch that, you didn’t regress—you reincarnated as the only known daughter of a yakuza boss. Sounds fancy, you know, but this is no romance manga. Actually, it’s somehow worse, because your baby brother is the infamous Gun Park.
Your Character Settings: AFAB, older half-sister of Gun Park, civilian, medical professional
Content/Trigger Warnings: swearing, typical Lookism violence, sexual themes (will put warning/s for each chapter)
Other Tags: slice of life, isekai, reincarnation/rebirth, sister complex, reverse harem/why choose, fluff, comedy, humor
💋 : smut (from mild to explicit)
Author's Note: There is no deep plot to this. This is just fluffy family stuff with Gun Park being protective of you, his older sister and a magnet for weirdos. NO INCEST. Also, Goo, Gun, Samuel and Jake's ages have been lifted.
IMPORTANT: Hello, reader. I'm glad that you're enjoying the AU, but I'd like to remind everyone that I am not taking requests. I will write for a character when I feel like it so please refrain from asking me to include certain characters in the next update. Thank you.
Episodes:
First Meeting
You've been reincarnated and now you have a weirdo younger brother.
Games
Gun has a special place in his heart for toys and puzzles.
Birthday
Goo shows up unannounced after Gun missed a work meeting.
Angel of J High (featuring: the J High first years)
You've grown accustomed to your life as the school nurse for J High.
It's a Promise (featuring: James Lee/DG)
A forgotten promise comes back to haunt you.
Swift Waters Parted
It's the day of the festival, but why do you feel like you're forgetting something?
Morning Sun (featuring: Samuel Seo) 💋
You meet up with a friend for drinks.
Safe and Sound
You and Gun finally share a meal again.
Weirdo (featuring: Goo Kim)
Gun Park has been acting weird and Goo will get to the bottom of it!
Like Water for Chocolate (featuring: Gitae Kim)💋
Once upon a time in Mexico...
Paper Snow, Glittering Fish
Gun reminisces about his two very different experiences with Mother's Day.
Scammers and Strange Fellows (featuring: Goo Kim)
You have a word with the man who tries to scam your students.
Like Tears in the Rain (featuring: Jake Kim)
A near chicken skin fatality leads to a fateful encounter.
Kryptonite (featuring: James Lee/DG)
You struggle to find a gift for your brother so you rope in a "former" admirer for help.
Bert and Ernie (featuring: Goo Kim)
The tension in Goo and Gun's friendship reaches its boiling point.
Morning After (featuring: Samuel Seo, Goo Kim)
Samuel doesn't do breakfast buffets, but then the elevator greets him with an unexpected surprise.
Trip to Busan (featuring: Goo Kim, Busan Gang and Lang Jin/Jinrang)
Gun accompanies you to Busan for a medical mission, and where Archie goes Jughead follows.
Noah's Ark (Gun-focused but with minor Goo Kim x Reader)
One fishing trip changes the course of history.
Anchor
The bad days come and go like the tide, but luckily, you found your anchor.
Fish Out of Water (featuring: Seongji Yuk and his students, Samuel Seo)
Seongji Yuk and his students visit Seoul for the first time.
Fire! (featuring: Samuel Seo)
Your house catches fire, forcing you to relocate.
Alibi in Ashes (featuring: Samuel Seo, James Lee/DG, Goo Kim)
(Direct continuation of "Fire!")
Life goes on after your house is set ablaze, but the culprit maybe closer than you think.
Out of the Frying Pan (featuring: Samuel Seo, James Lee/DG, Goo Kim)
(Direct continuation of "Alibi in Ashes")
You confront the so-called arsonist.
Stupid Piece Of (featuring: Samuel Seo)
A glimpse into Samuel Seo's devotion.
If I Love You, Beware (featuring: Gitae Kim, James Lee/DG) 💋
Gitae Kim's hunger remains unsatiated and he doesn't understand why.
So This Is Love (featuring: Gun Park, Jake Kim, James Lee/DG, Gitae Kim) 💋
You encounter an old acquaintance while doing a favor for your senior.
Lovefool (featuring: Gitae Kim, James Lee/DG) 💋
(Direct continuation of "So This Is Love")
You finally get a whole day to yourself. No boys, no drama. Or so you thought.
Haunted (featuring: Gitae Kim, James Lee/DG) 💋
(Direct continuation of "Lovefool")
What's worse than one persistent freak?
Second Puberty (featuring: James Lee/DG, Gitae Kim, Gun Park, Goo Kim)
(Direct continuation of "Haunted")
DG forces you to stop looking away, Gitae Kim is a surprisingly decent conversation partner and Goo Kim realizes something.
Tempting Fate (feauturing: Jake Kim, Samuel Seo)
Jake Kim invites you for a drink.
Better Than Candy (featuring: James Lee/DG) 💋
You're right, he can't keep sucking on lollipops forever.
Bonus Content:
Timeline explanation
smut scenarios with the men of the harem (James Lee/Diego Kang, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, Gitae Kim, Goo Kim) 💋
content/trigger warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dubcon, male masturbation, use of improvised sex toys, violence (not inflicted on Reader) in Gitae's section
NSFW Alphabet: Gitae Kim💋
“Uh, I like noses. I like big noses because well, because you can kind of like, you can like sit on them.” – Doja Cat, 2021
These headcanons are specific to MBBITSC! Gitae Kim and references his first time with AFAB!Reader, which occurs in the episode "Like Water For Chocolate."
NSFW Alphabet: James Lee/DG💋
These headcanons are specific to MBBITSC! James Lee/DG.
NSFW Alphabet: Samuel Seo 💋
These headcanons are specific to MBBITSC! Samuel Seo, who is way softer than canon!Samuel.
Love Languages with Younger Brother! Gun Park
A fluff-filled exploration on how Gun Park communicates his affection for you, his older sister.
What if...
MBBITSC! Gun Park switched consciousness with canon!Gun
You're reborn into the Pre-Generation (masterlist)
You ended up in Korea at age 8. (ask/discussion)
You had a son with Gitae Kim (masterlist)
Twins
You were in a sorta love triangle with Gap Kim and Minseon Kang
Fan art (^///^):
Single mom!Reader and Baby 1
Single mom!Reader and Baby 2
Single mom!Reader and Baby 3
Disclaimer: The image used does not belong to me. It is a screencapture from Ep. 505 - Lookism, Webtoon.
Y/N fell in love with him in high school, married him after graduation, and moved in with him whenever she decided to go to college. But something about him was odd. Disappearing at night, being gone for days on end, answering suspicious unknown phone calls, being overly clingy... He's not cheating, right? Or was something worse going on?
• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD, TUMBLR, QUOTEV
𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ( dark reverse harem x villainess! reader )
Y/N wanted her arranged husband dead. Who could blame her? After she was forced to marry the Grand Duke, she knew that she'd live a miserable life, especially if it meant being tethered to him til the end of her days. So she started to make a plan. A sinister plan to kill him, his close friends, and topple his empire of fame to the ground. If she wasn't allowed to have rights, why should they? But it was easier said than done... because unbeknownst to her, three men would do anything to appease her.
• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD
𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 ( yandere! emperor x female! reader )
Emperor Cadmus Dimitriou. Whether people knew him by his title as emperor of Kiaba, or his cutthroat win in the war three years ago, they all knew that a man like him was destined for greatness. But Y/N? She was destined for the constant spray of blood, the roaring of the crowd, and the thud of bodies dropping. It wasn't like Gladiators had a choice. However, that all changed when she was bought for a cheap price by a cruel man who wanted to test her fame. And Emperor Cadmus wouldn't take no for an answer.
• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 ( yandere! vampire x male! reader )
The Devil stopped at the doorstep of Y/N's church with a charming smile. Business, he said, that was why he came by to visit. His touch left Y/N's skin in flames, his gaze made his stomach twist, and his voice made his head spin. This man, Linus Ambrose Wittherson, had to be Lucifer himself.
Everyone inside Fulminare Academy had secrets; the professors, the students, the scrappy dogs outside. Y/N was no different. However, she never thought those secrets would lead to her demise. Mysterious men were out for her head, or more specifically, the knowledge inside it. May curiosity kill these wicked cats.
• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & QUOTEV
𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐓 ( yandere! serial killer x male! reader )
Y/N knew there was something wrong with him but he couldn't help it. He was 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. Who wouldn't be hooked onto someone like Micah Ariti? A transfer student from Greece who was perfect in every way; his athleticism, his creativity, his 'no-bullshit' type of personality. Even if he knew then about who he really was, he was already addicted. He would never let him go.
You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.
00 — prologue
01 — budding friendship
02 — a sudden encounter
03 — set in motion
04 — fateful beginning
05 — anomaly
06 — what lies ahead
07 — moving in
08 — the last member
09 — teacher’s pet
10 — facing the future
11 — on the brink of death
12 — claimed
13 — in mourning
14 — entrusted with a secret
15 — long time no see
16 — memories erased
17 — rude intrusion
18 — someone dearly beloved
19 — a happy day
20 — seize the opportunity
21 — best friends
22 — everyone's favorite
23 — hand in hand
24 — foreboding
25 — cursed place
More chapters are available on Wattpad and Ao3!
⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰
▶︎ The Friendly Knight (starring. some original characters Various! x Fem!reader)
synopsis. You were thrown into this world, a book that you read from time to time and now this was just a small day of respite with the Knight.
A series of one shots that I want to put out
The jealousy that often surfaced when you thought about the life you used to have felt almost embarrassing now. It was difficult to dwell on it when you were surrounded by a beautiful village and even more charming people to complement it.
The days spent trying to understand this world beyond what you had once read in the pages of a book were unlike anything you could have imagined. No matter how detailed a page was, it could never truly capture the whole of something. None of it could ever be translated completely into ink.
Being thrown into a world filled with power while possessing none of your own had been a devastating blow to your ego. Especially when all you had ever dreamed of was becoming part of the magical wonders this world had to offer.
A breeze brushed against your face, tickling your nose as you tried to make sense of your thoughts.
"Are you nervous?" A voice emerged from behind you.
Your role in this world was that of the princess's lady's maid. It wasn't particularly glamorous, but it came with one major advantage: you weren't part of the main cast. From your perspective, there was far too much emotional turmoil among them. Each one nagging to be the one that ends up with her. Gladly you didn't have to deal with that.
The princess's many suitors were all kind people, but following their stories felt strange. In the novel, it was entertaining enough. Living through it, however, felt like aging decades overnight and finding yourself at fifty while watching a group of teenagers stumble through first love.
Today, the princess's knight had been assigned to accompany you. It was odd how much the princess fussed over you, but it afforded you a comfortable life, so you couldn't complain too much. On your rare days off, you liked wandering through the market. You didn't leave the castle often, but whenever you did, it was nice to mingle with ordinary people.
"Ive been around town before," you laughed. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about."
You often wondered whether the knight's constant concern was the result of the princess's orders or simply his nature.
"Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he continued walking beside you. "What are we looking for today?"
"I'm already spoiled enough back at the palace, but I think it'd be cool to check out some of the trinkets around here." Admittedly, you had once tried to suppress your old slang. However, after years of living through a second growing up and life you suppose, you had stopped caring. It felt like one of the few pieces of your old life you still possessed.
"Now I'm the one getting nervous," the knight huffed. "For your sanity, because I don't think you're nearly as spoiled as you claim."
"Yeah, right." If the knight wasn't constantly following you around like an exceptionally well trained guard dog, his argument might have been easier to believe. Your wardrobe alone was proof enough.
Every dress you owned was made from luxurious silk in varying shades of baby blue and pink. They were undeniably beautiful, but they were also wildly impractical. Not that it mattered you weren't allowed to wear anything else.
The arrangement had earned more than a little resentment from the other servants. Many of them thought it was ridiculous, and honestly, you couldn't entirely blame them. Still, it wasn't something you had any control over. The princess treated you less like a maid and more like a doll she had stubbornly refused to outgrow.
The walk into town was short.
The palace sat at the heart of the kingdom, elevated just enough to loom over the city below. White stone walls gleamed beneath the afternoon sun, visible from nearly every street like the kingdom's own personal star.
The knight walking beside you had become one of your closest friends over the years.
At least, you assumed that was how he saw you.
Whenever the two of you found yourselves in the servants' quarters, he somehow always ended up sitting in front of you while you fixed whatever part of his appearance he'd neglected. Straightening his collar. Brushing dust from his uniform. Retiring his hair after training.
He always had an excuse. His favorite was particularly absurd. "We both work directly under the princess, so it only makes sense that I come to you."
You still had no idea what that was supposed to mean.
The logic was complete nonsense, but eventually you'd give up trying to understand it. You simply assumed he felt comfortable around you.
The thought made you smile. You remembered your first meeting surprisingly well. Back then, both you and Princess Veria had only been sixteen. The king had summoned her to the Great Hall, and after declaring that she absolutely could not attend alone, she'd dragged you along despite repeated objections from the royal staff.
Standing before the thrones of the King and Queen was a boy.
"This is the one?" Princess Veria asked, sounding genuinely alarmed.
The king sighed. You remembered desperately wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. One thing that set Veria apart from most noble daughters was that she possessed absolutely no sense of restraint. If she disagreed with something, everyone within hearing distance would know.
"Veria," the king said patiently, "I wanted to introduce you to your personal guard."
The princess looked toward the boy.
At the time, his hair had reminded you of ash after a fire of soft silver strands falling across his forehead. His skin was pale from years spent training indoors rather than laboring beneath the sun, and despite the sword at his side, he looked strangely nervous standing before the royal family.
More than anything, he looked out of place.
"Why?" she asked.
You nearly died. How could she possibly speak to her father like that? The king, however, didn't seem remotely surprised.
"Don't be difficult," the queen said, amusement dancing through her voice. "You'll be taking on more responsibilities soon. If you're expected to lead nobles one day, you'll need someone capable of protecting you."
Veria folded her arms and looked the knight over.
She had never been particularly fond of having men around her. Most of the young noble sons she'd met were insufferable, arrogant, or both. Still, this one seemed harmless enough. Not especially charming, not particularly impressive, but at least he looked like he possessed a functioning brain.
Then he glanced away from her. Toward you. The moment Veria noticed the subtle softening in his expression, it was over.
The princess whipped around to face the throne. "I don't want him."
Before anyone could react, she marched across the hall, wrapped both arms around you, and pulled you firmly against her side.
Then she glared at the knight. It was not a good day for your cortisol levels.
"Veria..." the king warned.
"No."
"Veria."
"No."
Her grip tightened. The glare she directed at the poor boy could have frozen an ocean.
The knight looked completely bewildered. You weren't doing much better.
"Rotten luck, daughter," the king said with a weary sigh. "The assignment has already been approved."
It had been one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Even now, five years later, you still had no idea why she'd reacted so strongly. You'd spent weeks apologizing to the knight on her behalf, followed immediately by several lectures directed at Veria herself about respecting her parents and new people around her.
Neither effort had accomplished much. Thankfully, time had softened everything.Still, whenever you thought back to that first meeting, a grimace immediately came to mind. The poor man never stood a chance.
By the time you reached the market district, however, the memory had faded beneath a far more important distraction.
Your attention darted from stall to stall, immediately captivated by the countless displays lining the streets. You couldn't use magic yourself, but that hardly stopped you from appreciating it. To your left, a weaponsmith had several enchanted swords displayed on a rack outside his shop. Traces of elemental magic shimmered across their blades a glow dancing along one edge, frost clinging to another.
Your eyes practically sparkled. to you that was so fucking cool.
“You know I’m here to protect you. If you’re looking to be on your own, then you should remember that I’ll always be by your side.” The knight's voice carried a hint of disappointment as he watched you drift farther into the weapon shop.
“Wyll, you and I both know that’s not true,” you replied with a small laugh. “Besides, I just think it’s an amazing sight.”
You stepped closer to the display of enchanted swords. One of the fire infused blades seemed to radiate a gentle warmth, its crimson runes glowing faintly beneath the polished steel. Captivated, you immediately began questioning the salesperson about the history of each weapon, the forging process, and the magic woven into their construction.
Beside you, Wyll gave you a quiet once over. Though he served the crown and had been assigned to your side just to watch over you by the princess, he had been hopelessly smitten from the very first day he met you.
He never quite understood your fascination with magic. Coming from a ducal family, he had been surrounded by it his entire life. Enchanted artifacts, powerful mages, elemental weaponry were all ordinary to him. Yet every spell and magical trinket seemed to fill you with wonder.
Perhaps, he thought, it was a testament to your innocence. How cute.
In the original novel, Wyll had been nothing more than the princess's loyal friend. Readers had spent years questioning why he was never considered a love interest. He was gentlemanly, dependable, and kind to a fault. Even if the princess herself never regarded him as particularly handsome, he was undeniably one of the author's most striking character designs.
Wyll himself never received much attention in the story. Most of his scenes involved accompanying the princess or standing guard beside her.
The two of you often spent your time mocking the ridiculous suitors who came seeking her hand whenever formal introductions were arranged.
Still, he couldn't deny that he disliked how excited you became whenever those suitors appeared. To him, it looked like you were simply fawning over handsome men. Perhaps there was a touch of jealousy involved. Not that he would ever admit it.
True, he was the son of a duke, but with an older brother set to inherit everything, his own prospects were considerably less impressive.
Little did he know, your excitement had nothing to do with the men themselves. You were excited about the routes. Every new suitor meant another potential storyline for Veria.
Unfortunately, you had never finished the novel series in your previous life, leaving you completely unaware of who she ultimately ended up with. While you liked to think you had matured beyond your former fangirl tendencies, that part of you never truly disappeared.
“What beautiful craftsmanship,” you said after finishing your conversation with the salesperson. “The weapon work here is really admirable.”
You turned back toward Wyll.
Want to know what else is beautiful? The thought appeared uninvited. He shoved it away immediately.
“They are impressive,” he said instead. “Though I’ve only worked with ice and quantum swords myself.”
He lifted an arm casually.
“Quantum?” Your eyes widened. “That’s surprising.”
You instinctively grabbed his arm.
A grin tugged at his lips. “Surprising? You think I can’t handle it?”
“I’m sure you can. I’m just shocked because don’t knights usually master the elemental disciplines before moving on to quantum?”
“Well,” he said, trying and failing to sound modest, “those with exceptional talent tend to advance a little faster.”
“Oh, how humble of you.”
You brushed a strand of hair from your face as you rolled your eyes.
“I’m allowed to be proud of my accomplishments.”
Eventually, the two of you moved into the bookstore next door. The moment you stepped inside, you immediately wandered away from Wyll, drawn toward rows upon rows of books stacked from floor to ceiling. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.
There was little point in studying magic. Without any mana of your own and no way to control it, such books would only serve as a reminder of what you lacked. Instead, you gravitated toward history, folklore, and fiction. If this was truly your life now, then you needed an escape somewhere. As your fingers skimmed over the spine of a weathered novel, a familiar voice suddenly cut through the atmosphere.
"I cannot believe my eyes." You froze. That voice. Turning around, your eyes widened. Standing several feet away was a young man with dark hair and an amused smile spread across his face.
"Viktor!" The book nearly slipped from your hands.
Without a second thought, you rushed toward him. The viscount barely had time to brace himself before you collided with him in a hug. A laugh escaped him as he caught you effortlessly.
"There she is."
You grinned so hard your cheeks hurt. Of all the people to run into today, Viktor was the last person you expected. He wasn't even supposed to be here. he was little more than a background character mentioned in passing. Someone that was in flashback that helped Veria with some tutoring when they were simply small children.
Yet to you, he meant much more than that. When you had first arrived in this world terrified, confused, and nearly drowned in a river. Viktor had been the one to find you. The one to pull you from the water. The one who made sure you survived those first frightening days. You'd never forgotten it.
He spun you once before setting you back on your feet. "I've missed you, man," you blurted out. "Seriously. Things have been so different without you around."
Your hands rested on his forearms as you looked up at him. The years had changed him. He'd grown taller. Not to drool but also looked very good.
"Well, I would hope so," Viktor chuckled. "It's been what? Six years?"
"Something like that."
"Hm." His gaze softened looking at the dress you had been draped in. "Looks like my little sheep has been doing well for herself."
You rolled your eyes immediately. "Oh no. Not that nickname."
"Oh yes. Were you not a lost lamb in need of shelter." he gloats
"You sound crazy."
"And?" You groaned while he laughed.
"Yes, she has done good for herself."
The sudden voice made both of you turn. Wyll had appeared beside you. Several books were stacked neatly in his arms, the ones he'd gathered while looking around the store. Books he thought you might enjoy. Unfortunately, the pleasant feeling he'd had while picking them out had vanished the second he walked back and found another man holding you.
A nobleman, no less. His expression remained polite.
"Ah," Viktor said, eyes lighting with amusement. "And you've got yourself a knight. I always knew you were special."
"Why is everyone boosting my ego today?"
Viktor laughed; he always enjoyed your less than nuanced way of speaking.
"No, seriously," you continued. "After you sent me to the castle all those years ago, I ended up meeting Wyll while working under the princess."
Wyll gave Viktor a polite nod. The viscount returned it. Neither man looked particularly impressed by the other. You, however, remained blissfully unaware. Wyll stepped forward and, with almost suspiciously casual movements, inserted himself between you and Viktor. The books shifted into one arm as he did so.
You blinked. Viktor's smile widened. ‘Oh,’ he thought. "This is entertaining."
"On that topic," Wyll said smoothly, "don't you think the princess may want us back soon? We wouldn't want to keep her waiting."
The words were perfectly reasonable.
You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think we've been gone that long."
Wyll gestured toward the bookstore windows. The sun had shifted noticeably lower. "You know how she is."
He had a point. The princess had a talent for becoming drastic whenever she couldn't find you for too long. She gets quite fussy when it's your day off because she always wanted to be near you.
"I suppose." A little disappointment slipped into your voice.
You'd only just found Viktor again.
"I like this one." the viscount said.
You blinked. "What?"
"The knight." he continued
Wyll frowned.
"Very loyal."
The frown deepened.
"Nice pet."
For a brief moment, you genuinely wondered if a murder might occur inside the bookstore. To his credit, Wyll's expression barely changed. To his discredit, the grip tightening around his books suggested he was imagining several ways to dispose of a viscount's body. The audacity of this pompous asshole. He honestly wanted to sock the guy for calling him a pet but he couldn’t deny that he is loyal to you through and through. If you asked him to walk into a burning building, he'd probably ask how many floors.
"Ignore him," you sighed.
"I intend to."
Viktor laughed loudly.
"I'd still like to see you again," he said, directing his attention back to you. "Could I call on you sometime?"
Your face immediately brightened. "Of course! You know I'd see you in a heartbeat."
The answer came so quickly that Wyll visibly frowned. You failed to notice. Again.
"I'll have to check with the princess first, though," you added. "I'm surprisingly busy these days."
"As I would expect." Viktor reached for your hand. "I would never dream of intruding." he lifted your hand and pressed a light kiss against your knuckles.
Wyll looked seconds away from developing a migraine.
You simply smiled. "It was good seeing you again, Viktor."
"And you as well, little sheep."
"There it is again." you laughed out at the stupid name.
"There it is." With a final laugh, the viscount stepped away and headed toward the exit. The bell above the bookstore door chimed softly as he disappeared outside.
For a moment, you watched him go. When you first met him you had no idea what and where you were, in fact he had just been seventeen when finding a girl in all white struggling to get out of a lake. He felt normal before finding out you were in some nonsensical situation.
"Ready to go?" You turned toward Wyll. His expression had settled back into its usual calm neutrality.
"What pissed in your food?" Without waiting for an answer, you relieved him of several books and began inspecting the titles.
"I don't think you should have strange men calling on you."
"First of all, he's not strange. I feel like that interaction made that pretty obvious."
You flipped through one of the books.
"Secondly, I know what you're thinking, but calling on someone doesn't automatically mean romance. If I said I was calling on you, would that mean I'm asking you out?"
You turned to another page. To Wyll, it felt like being transformed into a wilted leaf moments before fifty goats were released to shit on him so he became one with the manure.
"Fine," he muttered. "But you haven't seen him in years. People change. You don't know if he's become weird."
"Wyll, be serious."
Your irritation was beginning to show.
"I'm just trying to do my job."
You responded by ignoring him completely. Ironically, after all that effort, the three books you ended up choosing were the exact three he'd picked out for you. The knight noticed immediately. That fact cheered him up far more than it should have.
premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for each day of the week. it’s a bit overwhelming, but you try you’re best to keep each relationship relatively independent from the other. that means no hickeys. except, well, each one of them wants to make you theirs exclusively and they’re not above marking you secretly to send a message to tomorrow’s person. (yandere! possessive! genshin reverse harem x reader) (modern au!)
*if you want more yandere genshin sugar daddy content the introduction is here but this can be a standalone read!
diluc is no stranger to jealousy. you can sense it in the way his eyes constantly beckon for yours. the way he grips tightly onto your waist. he never asks anything more than your gaze on monday evenings. they have to be on him. always. not for a second more are you allowed to look at anything else but him. he’s greedy, always pulling you to look at him once more. naturally, his gaze is always on you.
you feel it drag up and down your back. crawl into the little dip in your neckline to see what’s underneath your clothes.
so the one time, the one time, kaeya’s crafty attempts to leave hickeys on your folds and inner thighs in the midst of eating you out, diluc catches it.
he sees it the moment he peels off your panties. what should’ve been a slow sequence of him sinking his tongue into your pussy is immediately halted at the sight of a very small but noticeable bruise in the juncture between your thighs and your labia minora.
kaeya’s warning.
the change in his demeanor is undeniable. his heavy gaze flits over to your face. intentful. unaware of the hickey, you’re understandably confused.
if diluc’s seen something, he doesn’t tell you. instead, he internalizes the sight. it’s a warning and a challenge.
mine.
he’s quick to grab onto your wrists and pin them above your head. before you can brace yourself, he’s slipped a finger inside you. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, but welcome him as he curls his finger towards him, gently brushing against that spongy spot that leaves you breathless.
he chuckles lightly as you roll your eyes back. his thumb presses on your clit, nudging it side to side. “you’re soaking wet,” he mutters, sliding another two fingers inside you. “all for me?”
your hold on the sheets tightens.
he leans closer to your ear. “i can’t wait to smear the remnants of your orgasm on my cock. make it slick enough to slip inside you. make you feel good. we want my darling to feel really good, right?”
you hiss when he starts thrusting his fingers into you at rapid speed. desperate. eager to make you spill your affection onto his hands.
“that wasn’t a rhetorical question, sweetheart.”
you can’t help the moan that leaves you as you approach your climax. “y-yes! yes—ah—diluc!”
his grin looks so unlike him. his thumb starts to draw circles on your clit, going quicker and quicker the more you squirm and moan.
“cum on me. do it for me, princess. cum all over my hand. give me all your everything.”
you can barely understand the undertone in his words. instead, you reach your high. your orgasm pours out of you, onto his beckoning fingers. and instead of letting you go, he continues mercilessly until your left whining for him to stop.
and he does. eventually. he slowly pulls his digits out of your crying cunt. he collects the droplets that trickle out of your lower lips and let’s it drip onto his twitching dick. he runs his hands along his shaft, letting out a shaky groan.
“look how pretty you’ve made me. this is all you, darling.”
he fucks you like it’s he’ll die if he doesn’t. blinded by the mixture of pain and pleasure, you close your eyes and submit to the feeling of overwhelming bliss.
you’re so overwhelmed, that you don’t register how he’s kissing your neck like a man on a mission.
დ
the two of you are in the middle of a normal tuesday brunch when childe sees it. when you turn to accept the menu from the waiter, he can see the slightest marks that you couldn’t hide, even with the most expensive foundation.
you curse internally when you see his eyes narrow in on you. you should’ve known better than to ever believe that diluc would ever follow one of your only rules: no hickeys.
and now childe, notoriously competitive, will feel compelled to have his fill.
you should’ve worn a scarf.
you thought that the position of the hickey, and the slight fadedness your foundation was barely able to provide would’ve been enough. you were wrong.
like a built-in reflex, you smile. “what’s the matter? is there something wrong?”
he gives you a smile, an all-knowing smile as he takes the menu from you. “nothing is wrong at all, girlie. i’m just admiring that new necklace i bought you.”
you’re good at pretending nothing’s wrong, so you fiddle the crystals with your hand. “i love the way it shimmers,” you add, “i love how sparkly you’ve made me.”
if you’ve done anything to settle his displeasure, he doesn’t show it. instead, he averts his eyes to the menu. you know better than to believe that nothing bad will come out tonight.
for the rest of the night, he engages in small talk with you. about the weather. a new store that’s just opened up. some story about some poor guy who borrowed more money than he could ever give back. the thought makes you tighten your grip on your fork.
when you get back to his penthouse, he’s quick to strip you of your luxurious gown and all of it’s accompanied gold accents. when you reach to take off the necklace that decorates your neck, he stops you.
“keep it on,” he whispers, his hand crawling up your thigh to grip your ass. “wanna fuck you looking so pretty in my jewelry. wanna make you shine with sweat as pretty as those gems.”
“oh really?” you retort, sliding your hand between the two of your bodies and cupping his sex. he groans as you run your fingertips down his groin. “wanna make me shine with your cum?”
“yes,” he gasps. in the heat of the moment, his eyes catches the faint outline of diluc’s mark just below your jaw. overtaken by some primal instinct, he presses your waist against him. “you’re letting all those side-fucks give you hickeys?”
his words almost make you want to freeze. but you’re quick to resume back to normal, to pretend that those words don’t phase you. that you don’t hear the implications in the undertones of his voice.
it’s worse if you tell him it was unintentional.
“it’s a new development.” you tug at his hair as he digs his face into the crook of your neck. “you get only one.”
you need to have the upper hand. in a sea of seven men who are constantly demanding things from you, you have to take what you’re dealt with and do something before they overtake you.
he grins. “you’re such a tease. which motherfucker left this on you?”
you know better than to tell him. everyone knows that there’s seven who you’re regularly seeing. but they don’t know the names—not the order. you know better than to give names. these men are as powerful as they are rich, you wouldn’t do anything that’d upset the city’s dynamics.
so you avoid the question, like you’ve always done.
“i can think of better ways you can use that mouth, other than asking silly questions.”
his brow twitches, but he doesn’t do anything else to push you. instead, he smiles into your neck. “only one?”
“only one,” you confirm.
he doesn’t hesitate to take off your necklace. his hands dive to the back of your neck to unclip it and toss it to the side. you let out a yelp in surprise when it clangs onto the coffee table.
“i’ll buy you a better one,” he says in-between open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. “fuck, i’ll buy you a thousand more.”
he sinks down to your collarbone. “’been dreaming of this. my girl, my pretty, pretty girl, wearing reminders of me.”
♡
the two of you are in the comfort of kazuha’s home. wednesdays are reserved for writing, and like always, you’re pinned under his watchful gaze while he writes his thoughts away in his notebook.
with every few scrawls, he peeks over the paper to steal glances at you. you hum, pretending to be blissfully aware. you’re just here as his muse.
as of this moment, you snuggle into your comfortable place in the back of his study, leaning against the window that expands to his backyard that oversees the sunrise and sunset. your own notebook rests on your thighs, your knees pressed close enough to your chest to allow you to write smoothly. kazuha sits across from you, his feet sometimes brushing against yours. if you laid your legs out straight, no doubt that the balls of your feet would meet his waist.
he keeps stealing glances at you. has been for the past hour. no matter how much you try to focus on your own poems, you can’t brush away the feeling of being watched.
his eyes are impeccable, and can spot the marks that occasionally peak underneath your scarf when you move a certain away.
“you let them mark you?” he asks out of the blue. not accusatorily, per se, but you can detect the edge in his voice.
the corners of your lips perk unnaturally. the moment you’d been dreading since you woke up had arrived. you let your eyes soften, as if it could soothe kazuha by any means. with a gentle hand, you reach out to softly grasp his hand that tightens around the edge of his notebook. it’s something he accepts readily, enveloping your hand with his.
“i was meaning to talk to you about this, kazu,” you say tenderly. “it’s just something i’m trying out. everyone gets one. see if everyone’s okay with it.”
kazuha doesn’t say anything. his gaze is fixated on your intertwined hands. “my love, they mark your skin like animals.”
you smile like it’s no trouble. because that’s what you need him to believe. you feel like kazuha’s a loose thread. tug him in the wrong direction, the wrong idea, and he’ll undo the entire sweater.
“it’s only going to be seven,” you reply, trying to lessen the tension.
“it’s better if there’s just one,” he retorts gingerly. “they aren’t gentle at all, are they?”
you don’t like the way his eyes sweep over your entire figure. you hold back a shudder, feeling as if a ghost had just passed through you.
“they are,” you mumble, although you can hardly say it’s true. “don’t you worry kazu, i can handle myself.”
your line of sight flits back to your intertwined hands; he lets go, instead running the pads of his fingers down the back of your hands before settling on your wrist. his hold is firm. it’s not tight enough to cause you pain, but not gentle enough to let you pull away.
“i’m sure you do, love,” he mutters. but the way he says it makes it seem as if he doesn’t believe you.
his eyes connect with yours intently.
the rustle of your clothes shuffling echoes through the quiet study as he pulls your wrist towards his mouth. in doing so, you’re forced to lean forward. his eyes never leave you, not when he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist.
“they just want you for your body,” he says, more to himself than you. “they don’t love you at all. everything would be so much better if you just dropped them. let me take care of it. take care of it all.”
you don’t say anything back. he doesn’t want you to. and even if you did, it wouldn’t be something he’d want to hear. you have bills to pay. you have enemies a wealthy poet wouldn’t be able to defend you from on his own.
his tongue slides out of his mouth to lick a long strip up your wrist, all while looking at you. he presses open-mouthed kisses in the same spot, sucking and nibbling with purpose. in-between kisses, his tongue draws letters on the expanse of your skin in a sentence you’ve begun to fear.
A L L M I N E
დ
when spring comes, tighnari will sometimes give you hickeys. he’ll do it in the heat of the moment in a passionate rut. he can’t think of anything else but you. how perfect you are for him. how beautiful. how you belong to him.
while he drives his cock into you the only way he knows how, his lips will find their place in the crook of your neck. on the curve of your breasts. on the plush of your thighs. he’ll kiss you like you’re his air.
he’ll whimper into your skin. in that moment, you’re powerless to stop him. his pace is godspeed, pummeling into you like you’re his lifeline. driven to leave his white reminders of his love and devotion into your aching pussy. you can barely hold yourself up steadily. your fingers tremble. overcome with an insurmountable high, you can’t push him away as he leaves hickeys all over your body.
it’s not to send a message to everyone, per se, but to express the feelings he’d been keeping pent up during autumn, winter, and summer. the overwhelming infatuation and adoration he feels for you.
his pension for leaving nonstop hickeys on you starts to settle on the fourth day. and by the end of the week-long rut, they’ve faded just enough that you can cover it up with foundation and expensive jewelry.
but when he’s not blinded by his sexual desperation during the spring, it’s a different story.
it’s a perfectly fine thursday mid-afternoon in the comfort of tighnari’s study when he sees it.
he catches a glimpse of kazuha’s kiss on your wrist when you pass a cup of tea to him. your sleeves ride up just a bit under the beaming sun. you notice too, and are quick to pull back. but it’s too late. the moment he’s set down the cup he’s grabbing onto your wrist and pulling back the sleeve. “what’s this?”
you’re tempted to let out a breath of relief that he didn’t notice the hickey that barely rested on the edge of your collar. when you donned on the turtleneck sweater, you feared that he’d notice it if it slipped down and grow even more livid.
just play it off. pretend. if you’re lucky, by the end of this week, you’ll end up with only six hickeys.
“oh, i must’ve bumped into something.”
tighnari scowls. “this doesn’t seem like an ordinary bruise. how’d you get it?”
you’re scrambling for a believable response. “i was leaning back onto the counter and didn’t realize the corner was there.”
he chuckles. “clumsy you.” his forefinger inches up the slightest bit to press on it.
you wince. subsequently, your entire body tenses. this isn’t like those times where you can lie sweetly to him whenever he asks for you to stay for good. this isn’t like one of those times you can charm your way out of a situation. the way he looks at you is knowing. feral.
“i wasn’t born yesterday, love,” he hisses. “i know a hickey when i see one, especially when i leave them on you every spring.”
the way he kisses you after is rougher than usual. desperate. needy. aggressive. he presses into you, his tail wagging tentatively. he brings your arms to wrap around his neck. his tongue caresses your own, exploring your mouth like it’s a new discovery. a new treasure trove.
he whimpers into the kiss, his little squeaks and moans muffled by his need to devour you.
you close your eyes and let yourself get swept up with the pacing. to get distracted by him. you hardly register the time pass before the two of you are naked, your clothes strewn across the floor in his bedroom.
your back is pressed against his chest, your ass hugging his dick while he slides his hand down the valley between your breasts, stopping to pinch your nipple until it hardens. his other hand is left to its own devices, settling on your waist.
his fingers find themselves in the comfort of your pussy. he whimpers at how amazing you feel around his fingertips. how every time he pulls in and out, there’s squelching noises that almost overtake his little whines and yelps. every time he pushes his fingers back in, your ass presses a little closer to his dick.
he moans like you’re the one pleasuring him. like he’s on the cusp of euphoria, only silencing himself to press open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
when alhaitham gets home after a long week of working, all he wants to do is relax in warmth of your embrace. friday is his reward.
he eats dinner as always, asking you questions in-between bites while delivering long stares that still make you feel like you’re being researched. but this week, instead of insisting you two spend quality time together reading on the couch, he coaxes you into the bedroom.
he groans into the kiss, pressing you to the wall as he helps you out of your clothes. but when he opens his eyes to admire your body, he doesn’t like what he sees.
he lets out an unamused chuckle. his hand brushes over your shoulder. “what’s this?”
you try to speak, but he cuts you off with another kiss. when you gasp in surprise, his tongue dives into your mouth.
he leaves you breathless; his pace is rough, almost angry.
“what a bad girl you are,” he seethes, “letting all those bastards touch you like that? bruise your pretty, pretty skin?”
he doesn’t let you talk. he envelops your opportunity to reply with his relentless kisses. he presses harder into your mouth, your teeth almost gnashing together. it’s almost painful, as if he wished to bind you two together.
“every friday is my solace, my holiday, didn’t you know?”
you gasp for air. “i-”
“i’m not done yet.” he brings his lips to yours for another hungry kiss. “every week i work so hard so i can see you, cherish you, and this is how you repay me? i thought you were my good girl.”
he chuckles darkly. “but you’re just a bad apple, aren’t you? i’ll have to fix that.”
he continues to kiss you. to ravish you with his mouth. he swallows your moans, his hands eagerly exploring your body like it’s his first time. and like always, his hands find their place on your chest.
“i’ve always loved your breasts: the way they curve, the way they sway so sweetly every time you arch your back for me, how your nipples perk up with every caress of mine.” he flicks one and you yelp.
“those imbeciles really have no intelligence at all.” he licks a long stripe in-between the valley of your breasts. “your body is a canvas.”
his eyes connect with yours, beckoning your gaze. a silent connection, a guarantee that you’re looking at him. at what he’s doing. at what he’s making you feel.
he stares at you attentively, and once again you feel like you’re being studied. every gasp that comes from your lips. every twitch of your brows. every time your eyelids flutter is under his watchful gaze like it’s the only thing his sight is for. like he’s a scientist researching the cure to his very own hunger.
his lips find purchase just on the edge of your areola, sucking intently. “to mark you is a form of art.”
he relishes in the way you shudder. but he needs more.
with one hand on your waist, his other comes up to fondle your other breast, craving for more reaction.
“only idiots wouldn’t be able to realize it.”
დ
unlike all of the other saturdays, where you’re probably swept up in the grand scheme of things (attending formal events, meeting politicians, or shopping like ayato’s wallet depended on it), you’re lounging in ayato’s home office on a calm evening.
the two of you decided to end things a bit earlier today and relax a bit. and by that, you suggested to spend some quality time alone so that you didn’t need to walk anymore. although you prided yourself on stamina and tolerance to soreness, even you couldn’t keep up after just about a week of aggressive men fucking their jealousy into you.
“it was hot today,” ayato mutters lazily as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. your head rests on the plush of his thigh, just as he likes it. “are you sure that you’re comfortable in that turtleneck, love?”
you curl into yourself a little bit more, tugging the collar up. “yes, i’m perfectly fine.”
you’re not fine. you’ve been sweating up a storm underneath your sweater but you were adamant on ending this week with six hickeys instead of seven. your stubbornness refused you the pleasure of ice-cold showers to wash away how your clothes burned you.
he pouts. “are you sure? you look awfully uncomfortable, dear. you can take a shower in my bathroom, if you’d like.” he smiles. “i won’t look, promise.”
you turn to look at him, contemplating. on one hand, you don’t believe anything good will come out of undressing in ayato’s house. you don’t believe his promise, either. if you knew him any better, he’d walk into the shower on the grounds of saving water, where he’d see all the hickeys imbued into your skin. while diluc, childe, and kazuha’s marks were getting a little faded, you doubt you could somehow explain alhaitham and tighnari’s hickeys.
but on the other hand, you’d been in this sweater for a whole day already. and your skin was started to get irritated. you felt gross with all of the sweat you’d accumulated. maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt.
you smile like there’s nothing to worry about. like you’re an adoring lover. like you’re whoever ayato wants you to be. you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he warmly receives.
“okay. i’ll be back soon.”
he chuckles as you get up from his lap to head to the shower. you had to be quick.
you all but run to the bathroom once you’re out of sight. you head to ayato’s bedroom where some of your clothes are. dresses, lingerie, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, and all other items of clothing he’s ever bought you hang neatly in his closet. you pluck whatever seems practical and make a break for the shower.
you slip off the diamond ring he’d given you months ago. you all but slam it onto the counter, relieved your ring finger can breathe for once.
the quicker you take, the more likely you can shower without incident.
but the moment you’ve stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped secure around your torso, to your horror, the door opens.
“hey, love, i was wondering—”
just before you can close the door shut on him, his eyes connect to the discoloring on your shoulder.
regardless of his discovery, you move to usher him out. but mid-way, your feet are halted in the middle of the bathroom floor. the words are crawling in your mouth. you want to tell him that you’d like to shower in peace, tell it to him teasingly, but you don’t think you can.
that’s not what he wants. that’s not what pays the bills.
you offer a tight-lipped smile. “like what you see?”
he paces towards you, caressing your shoulder. he leans closer to you, examining the color, the shape, the size. “hm, so that’s how they want to play this game,” he whispers, ignoring your question entirely.
his hands gently tug at your towel. he smiles. “won’t you open up for me, love?”
he guides your hands as you drop the towel, revealing alhaitham’s mark.
“hm.” he looks at you as if he’s silently critiquing an art piece. “i see what’s going on here.”
he takes the ring that you left behind on the counter and works to slide it slowly onto your finger again. “you almost forgot to wear the symbol of our love, dear.”
“oh, it must’ve slipped my mind.” it’s like there’s cotton in your mouth. your throat feels dry.
he chuckles at that. “poor thing. my poor lover can be so forgetful.”
his eyes drift down to your chest.
he presses a kiss above your breasts, where your heart is.
“she almost forgets that she’s mine.”
დ
even if he’s your designated sunday, if you aren’t careful enough, kaeya will create a week full of trouble for you.
when he eats you out, he becomes pussy-drunk. he kisses your lower lips like it’s his prize. his reward for working so hard this week. his tongue runs up your pussy to your clit in a slow, deliberate stroke.
when he reaches your clit, he lets his mouth mold over your nub. he licks at it gently, cherishing it like it’s his only rose on a lonely valentine’s day.
he makes love to you like he’s reached his happily ever after. his lewd slurping overshadows the shuffling of the sheets, your moans. when he dips his tongue into your cunt, he whimpers.
his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place. even when you’re overstimulated, begging for a break, he won’t let you go. he savors the way you tremble so cutely under his touch. how your cum leaks out of you in small streams after your fifth release. he’s immersed in your cunt, yearns to make out with your lower lips while his nose nudges at your clit.
it’s too much. the feeling of your climax is so overwhelming.
he wants you to feel this euphoria, to remind you of how he feels every time he looks at you.
he wants you so much. so fucking much it hurts him when he can’t see you. when he can’t hold you. when he can’t be with you like a real lover. he needs you like he needs air. he needs to feel you wrapped around him to give him life. to give him purpose.
that’s why when you’re so swept up in the feeling of a constant climax, when your legs feel numb, he gets so carried away.
if you don’t catch him in time, kaeya will leave secretive hickeys along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your folds. he needs the others to know he’s staking his claim.
to know he’s making you feel so good that there’s definitive proof.
at the end of the week, when you see him again after seven days of trying to calm down the jealous storm among your seven sugar daddies, he’ll grin.
it’s that same devious smirk he gives you at candlelight dinners, except it isn’t one to mask his vulnerabilities with charisma and one-liners. it’s one to tell you that he knows exactly what he’s done.
he knows what he wants, and he’s finally had enough of the fucking waiting.
NOTE!!
- so chat... I'm also going to slide this in.. hope this feeds y'all! MWAHAHAHAH IM PUTTING MY DISTRACTIONS ON YOU SO EATTTTT, EAT IT.
(also I tried to make this as 1993 as possible and the hearts with the sentences, are the opinions about what the person has to say abt the character!! ex: hermione to (name) - "I love her so much it hurts.")
HOW I WOULD DRESS (NAME) & CHARACTERS!!
(NAME) (SURNAME).
- (minji is not a face claim for you, I just needed a face for the pictures!! (name) is you, and not someone else. It's an x reader for a reason chat)
- might or might not be wearing cedric's jacket.. hehe
- carries her walkman and earphones EVERYWHERE, music is her first love before julian tho! loves listening to sade and mj a lot!
- idk what chanel 5 smells like.. so erm you can change it lmao
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ⭑.ᐟ
HERMIONE GRANGER.
- she's wearing a bracelet given by (name), treasures it!! wears it everywhere, unless she needs to go swimming or somewhere she knows it can be lost or broken!
- brings her wand everywhere just because she's paranoid of something happening, considering harry also gets into smth that she could possibly fix!!
- I feel like sofia by clairo really highlights the lightness and fluff of both of them, and how (name) thinks abt them tgt!!
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ⭑.ᐟ
CEDRIC DIGGORY.
- literally the definition of bf material! wears a few accessories (watch, bracelet, and scarf!)
- smells so FUCKING GOOD. literally might sniff him down to between his toes because he smells so fricking farting amazing.
- bring's knuts and sickles for hogsmeade, but bought more incase he was going to bump into (name), and so he could also buy her smth ehehe!! (which he DID bump into her and spent every single second with her.)
- dark red by steve lacy just gives off him I don't even know chat!! gonna kiss him, he gives off pinterest autumn pins, cinnamon rolls and candles
Beware what or who you let into your heart. Some love bites deeper than you expect...
Echoes of a Past Slayer — Demon Slayer Various X Reader
Chapter One — Was It Fate? Or Your Own Stupidity?
Previous — X // CHPTR 1 — You made it! // CHPTR 2 — Here!
Masterlist — Here!
Directors' Cut — Heyyyyy! Welcome to the first chapter of my Demon Slayer Canon insert! I have read a couple in the past, and they are just so much fun, I finally got the courage to write one myself! Mainly, @ islandsofviolence on AO3 was a big factor of me wanting to create my own tale. Please check out their Demon Slayer Isekai called, "Kimetsu no...Isekai? [Demon Slayer Various X Reader]" on AO3, it is a super fun read. I hope you stick around to read more as I intend to write many more chapters to this because this was very fun to do~! Thank you for taking the time to read my work.
Word Count — 6.9K Words
Reader Gender — Female (She/Her)
Warnings — Cursing (from Reader and various other characters), Canon-typical violence, slight changing of the actual story of Demon Slayer
What is Fate?
The order in which one’s life will progress is the base understanding of our existence. We appear through the lens of existence for a brief moment in time, this exact moment, and we get to experience life. Thriving and full, or empty and tragic—such is the balance we must endure. Our entire world dangles on a thread barely standing on the precipice of succeeding to breathe another time or fall into the icy cold grip of demise. Though only two things in life are a guarantee, something that everyone and everything shares together. You are born, and you die. We never know when either event is going to be, where it is going to be, but it’s there.
Can you control it? Can you avoid a predetermined path? Invisible to your eyes, but straight in front of you at every moment? Should you avoid it? Will life become even more of a hellhole if you defy nature?
Can you even begin to declare making the choice of defying Fate if that is exactly what Fate had in mind for you? The “choice” to deviate and be “different from the rest”; is it even a “choice” at all?
Fickle and fleeting is the life of the fool who labors over such mundane concerns.
Well, a fool you certainly are, if that’s what you’re thinking about when a pair of sharpened talons and vicious eyes honed in on your throat is in front of you at the moment.
You’d be lying if you said you had “no idea” how you got caught up in this whole ordeal. Earlier that day, your crow had given you the task of hunting another demon in the next town over. You’d kicked up a fuss at the time, having only just finished a mission an hour prior, begging the warden keeping your downtime locked away from you for one extra night to recuperate.
“Quit pouting,” your crow, Hoshiko, squawked as it dived to deliver a peck right to the top of your head, barely missing when you hastily ducked its ambush, “You must head off! Slayers just beginning their journeys with the Slayer Corps have been dying in much too numerous amounts as of late, so you must provide aid to the slayer in need!”
“You realize I've also only recently passed the trials too, right?” you sassed to the bird. A yelp escaped you as the bird persisted you to move on with threats of more pecks. You decided to stop complaining, if only for the sake of being able to help the new recruit. You remembered how grueling your first set of missions were after you’d completed the horror show known as the Final Selection. It’s only been a year since you passed, but the visions of those seven nights have yet to leave your mind. You’re not sure they ever will. Thinking back, you would have been eternally grateful to the Corp for sending a more experienced slayer to provide aid if things got out of hand. A particularly nasty injury you got on your back, that has since healed, began to ache at the reminder of the battles you faced. Fixing your breastplate to sit comfortably again on your torso after it had moved during your fight, you decided to shove the memory back into the vault, and focus on packing up.
You took off not too long after, waving to the family you’d rescued during the wee hours of the morning. The two children, a young boy and a girl slightly older than him, were sobbing into your shoulders, gripping your uniform with their tiny, shaking hands. Their overwhelming relief made perfect sense, you had just saved their lives from the clutches of the snarling demon only a few minutes prior. The parents were no better off, throwing their arms around the three of you in a frenzy of tears and wails of gratitude. “Thank you for saving our babies!”, they profusely sobbed over and over to you. You took their sopping thanks with as much grace as you could provide after feeling exhausted and sweaty from the battle. Though, seeing the parents fuss over their children and plant wet kisses all over their red faces made it worth it.
Miraculously, as thanks, they sent you away with a huge helping of the dinner they were so rudely interrupted during. That act gave you all the strength you needed to take off and tackle the next horde of beasts you would face. You walked for hours, observing the rolling hills of grass and the forests you passed through bursting with life. The trees stretched tall and expanded wide, showing the thriving health of the woods. Life thriving never fails to make you smile.
You passed by farm after farm, most harvesting their latest crop of rice, some growing sweet potatoes. Children playfully chased each other through the fields, laughing together. Young adults—their parents, no doubt—hollered at them to be careful to not hurt the budding crops. An older couple passed you as you moved onward. You gave them a formal bow, wanting to show respect by bidding them a good day. The woman giggled at your action, expressing her delight in how nice of manners you possessed, and placed two hard candies into your palm with only the gentleness a beautiful woman could. She gave your head a gentle pat and she and her husband bid you a nice day. You watched them walk off, arm in arm, conversing about this and that, just sharing their time and love with each other. It made you smile how they shared the little pleasures that they knew would make their other half happy. You stopped only a handful of times after that to munch on the helping of dinner you received and poke fun at Hoshiko, eventually reaching the town you were assigned to investigate. Crossing a large wooden bridge arching over the lapping river below, you see the town.
It was dusk, the sun slipping slowly behind the mountainous landscape. Pinks, oranges, yellows, and blues bled into each other in the darkening sky. Clouds began to blot the skyline, not dark enough to suspect rain, but thick enough to blanket the world in darkness. The perfect time to begin the hunting of a demon.
From the little light that was left for the day, your eyes scanned about. Well built, sturdy buildings filed together in singular lines in uniform fashion. Dozens of homes and shops with blue roofs stand firmly. Shops had big painted signs displayed outside with their names brushed in bold colors. Wares were dotted along the busier roads in front of shop doors to entice curious onlookers inside. Power lines draped along the streets like curling vines dangling from their place in the high treetops above. A looming peak stood proud on the border of the city, its jagged crown stabbing the cloudy sky.
The faint waft of freshly cut pine wood filled your senses. Earthy and heady, it grounded you. Various insect chirps buzzed through the air and electricity surging through the lines gave the night a familiar comfort. The shuffling of people’s feet as they make their way home for the night, the creaking of branches with the budding life of spring, a wind chime singing far off in the distance—all of this spelled out the signs of a peaceful village. But, you knew better, as a monster lurked in the shadows somewhere, threatening to desecrate the happiness of these townsfolk.
Rather immediately rushing in to behead the demon, you bide your time. As much as you want to slay the demon on your own to get this mission over quicker, this wasn’t your task. The task you were assigned to, you made sure to clarify with your crow, was to interfere as little as possible with the fight that will ensue, and simply provide aid to the new recruit. This was meant to be their fight, but if the battle began to prove fruitless, then you had permission to take the helm.
To make use of yourself, you decided to walk through the desolate alleyways of the village in search of clues of the demon’s whereabouts that may have been left behind. A torn scrap of attire of a poor victim of the demon’s slaughter, a lost shoe, a splatter of blood, dried or fresh—anything. You had the awareness to keep an eye and ear out for the slayer that was supposed to already be around somewhere. You saw and heard nothing for a while. Lights that had been flickering in windows of the townsfolk’s homes were now beginning to be snuffed out for the evening. Chattering died into meager whispers.
The hour drew much later into the night, and the lack of sleep was starting to get to you. Two nights and a full day of walking in the hot sun drained the life out of you, not to mention the fight with a whole different demon the day before was nothing to lift your nose at. The only thing keeping you awake at this point is your game of gently humming a familiar tune and quizzing yourself on if you could remember where it was from. You were starting to wonder if there really even was a slayer being sent to this location. Hell, maybe there wasn’t even a demon in the first place! Who knows. Funny thought, but you knew that the higher ups wouldn’t waste your time with a fake mission.
“Hmm…,” you rounded another corner. Nothing. Nothing but pitch black emptiness and a couple pieces of litter. Random glass bottles tipped over and broken, a half-eaten fried fish on a stick from one of the local vendors no doubt, and a few crumpled up sheets of, now drenched and grossly stained, paper. Your eyebrows pinched down, a dirty look forming on your features. You moved on, a complaint ready to dig at nobody on your tongue.
“Ugh,” you sighed, “Demon sure is takin’ its time. Is it not hungry? Is that why it hasn’t begun hunting? Hm, not likely. Demons are always gluttons,” you glowered as you carefully lifted your foot high and forward enough to avoid stepping in a sticky clump of some garbage plopped on the ground.
You continued to rant to yourself, “Hoshiko better give me a smoother mission next time, or I swear on that bird’s life, I’ll add a new fashion statement to my uniform. A feather boa! I mean, is it so hard to say, ‘Hey, (Y/N)! Since you’re such a great slayer, the big boss decided to send you to a bustling, bright town! You can relax, and eat all the delicious food you desire—aw heck, you know what? You don’t even have to hunt the demon here! Just take the day off, you’ve earned it!’. Would be much nicer than sifting through…whatever this stuff is,” your face pulled into another disgusted twist as you saw two rats fighting over what looked to be an old, moldy pastry.
“Okay. Quit complaining, (Y/N). Now, which way haven’t I gone yet? I think I’ve checked the whole West and North ends. Maybe move more towards the East—,” a shrill grating sound pierced the deafening silence that had swallowed the land. That shut your mouth tight. Your head shot over in its direction. East. Damnit. You left no time for hesitation, already darting out of the alley and rushing off into the darkness enveloping the roads towards that terrible noise that was rattling off.
You raced along, jumping up high to sprint atop the thin walls lining streets, sharp eyes scanning for any sign of a fight breaking out. Hopefully the new slayer isn’t inept enough to get themselves killed before you arrive. You didn’t want to arrive and see a gory massacre. You ran faster at the harrowing thought, closing in on the beacon. The sound was more aggravating than scary, if you were being honest. It made the back of your tongue unconsciously curl up like a viper ready to strike, the muscle trying to block the vicious resonance from bouncing around in your skull. You pull a face at how ugly it rang, your highly trained ears wincing at the intrusion of such an awful shriek as you neared. Finally, you arrived at the epicenter.
You hopped down from the ledge of the fence into the mouth of a street hidden behind a few residential housing structures. The road was rather lack-luster from an architectural standpoint. Only the wooden fencing surrounding the backyards of the houses and a few entrances to more homes that were latched shut for the night. Though, the scene that lay before you was anything but ordinary.
There were two people, a man and a woman, cowering off to the side. The woman appeared to be passed out in his arms, judging from the limpness of her posture. The man was trembling but not looking at the woman in his arms. Instead, he gazed out further into the road as if just having seen something horrific. Telltale signs that you're exactly where you need to be. Demons spark that primal fear in humans, and only a demon can drag that expression out of someone.
A few paces ahead of the couple, a boy with a large wooden box on his back and a green and black checked haori draped on his back was pointing a blade at something hidden in shadow. The color of the metal was as black as the night sky. That told you he was most likely the beginner slayer you needed to aid. From what you’ve heard from your personal swordsmith, only indecisive and inexperienced slayers get that color of blade gifted to them from the Gods. At last, your final obstacle. A creature halfway poking out of the ground was the recipient of the end of the slayer’s blade. A portal of some kind shields the rest of its body from your view, murky black water lapping at the edges of the foe’s torso. Its hideous face was constrained in a deep frown, its brow bone framing blood red eyes that practically glowed with intensity. Blue hair draped long down its back in a repulsive waterfall. Its stare was beaming straight at the boy with mahogany-colored hair, hardly acknowledging the man and the woman nearby.
Your heart said to jump in and protect the boy and those caught in the crossfire of the fight, but you held back. Remember. You were tasked with aiding the slayer in case they could not handle the mission, not to rush in and risk yet another life. You’d just get in the way. You had to stay put. No matter the ache you felt, no matter the fear or worry about another person’s life. Your loyalty was to your master, not some random boy.
Though…why does it feel like you know him, even though you know you have never met?
You stalked closer into the fray just as the demon began hollering in anger. Not at you, but at the boy pinning him to his spot with his sword.
“You bastard!” The demon shouted at the slayer staring him down. As you neared, you noticed that with the hellish eyes and furrowed non-existent brows, two horns sat crudely across from each other on its forehead, jabbing outward with the same likeness as the mountain at the edge of this town. You locked your dominant hand steadily along the shaft of your weapon, your beloved naginata, lifting it from its resting spot on your shoulder and lifting up your other hand to firmly grasp the pole. You’d long since removed the scabbard from the blade, so there was no hesitation from not being prepared. The red gloss of your naginata’s pole glinted in the moonlight. You continued to examine the scene. You wanted to test the idea of an ambush approach as the demon hasn’t shown that it's noticed you yet.
The creature clenched its fists and pointed at the girl helplessly asleep in the arms of the civilian, “Back off for crying out loud! That girl’s gonna go stale on me, dammit! That girl’s already 16, okay? If I don’t devour her soon, she’s gonna lose flavor by the second!” You wanted to rush in already at the vulgar words spat out by the wretched beast. Absolutely disgusting, all of them. Vile cretins being shit out by the dozens by the demon lord’s work. None of them were salvageable. You wanted to roll your eyes, but another mucky puddle appearing from seemingly out of nowhere swept the thought of showing the demon a thing or two away.
“Calm down, my other self. So what? There are going to be nights like this.” You couldn’t see its face—no doubt it was just as hideous as the other one before you, but you could tell that it was nearly a mirror image of the other demon not too much further ahead. You could faintly see a singular horn sticking straight up from its skull rather than mirroring the dual horns of its “other self”. It was wearing slightly different clothes than the same demon a few yards ahead, it wore a greyish blue nagagi with mesh forearm sleeves, while the other wore a shinobi-style fighting uniform with a mesh undershirt. The same long blue hair hung down its back, the same sickly grey skin tone, the same tones in its vocal inflection. This demon must have spent quite a long time working with its own mutation blood art. Some were better at manipulating their skills than others, but all demons were capable of using it.
You moved your naginata further outward to have a clear shot at the new guest’s neck. If this added threat decided to get cocky, rush backwards, and go for you instead, you’d be ready.
It raised its hand to cup its chin, “I’ve already fed on plenty of 16-year-old girls in this town. They were all quite meaty and delicious~. I’m satisfied.” You could practically hear the smirk in its voice. You bit down a curse, so many innocents lost. Too many good young women lost to these disgusting things. Unclean, unfaithful, unworthy. You hoped it suffered wherever it ended up once it was slain. It wants a reaction. You know this. You inhale and exhale slowly. The slayer and the demon had yet to say anything about your appearance on the outskirts of their fight, nor did they give any indication that they knew you were standing there. You would like to keep it that way for the latter party.
With a pathetic whine, the demon with two horns on the opposite end groaned, “Well, I’M not satisfied, my other self! I wanna consume more!” It panted and shivered with its lust for the flesh of the living.
“You monster…,” the man who had been shaking like a poor leaf near the wall grit out. You didn’t blame him for his fear. Monsters were supposed to be fictional. And yet, here you are, stuck in a beautiful nightmare.
He took a defiant step towards the monster ahead, though his voice cracked under the pressure of confronting the beast, “Return Satoko to me. The one you abducted the night before last!” The man demanded, but it came off as more of a plea rather than any threat.
Shooting from the darkness, the terrible grinding began again. You cringed and saw a third demon nastily crushing and gnashing its own teeth together in a frenzy on the roof to the left of you. Its lower jaw ran at an unbelievable rate, rubbing and scraping to send out an ear-splitting rattle. It did not speak actual words, but it sure took the attention of the room. Soon after, the demon with two horns on its head joined in the decrepit language of poor dental hygiene.
Speaking through its co-partners' chittering, the seemingly most level-headed of the three demons—the one with the singular horn—took the helm, “Satoko? Which one are you babbling on about?” The leader lifted the left side attire, revealing something you couldn’t see because of your position. It was then that the demon slayer and the man turned around to face both you and the demon. Both of them shared a surprised look in their eyes at your arrival, but you raised a hand to silence any comments they could make to blow your cover. You slowly lowered your hand into position again, and winding back your stance. You naginata glistened with an opalescent sheen along the blade of your Nichirin ore. When you received your naginata from the swordsmiths that day so long ago, you surprised everyone around with the color the blade took on. From the nature of the Breathing style blooming throughout your body, it influenced the metal to turn an opaque white. A white so pure it rivaled that of the stars. The quality of the blade was evident in the power it stored slowly ramping up. You felt the wind around you churn into a spiraling wall surrounding you on all sides as you thought these words in your head.
Instinct Breathing…
“If her hairpin is among these collectibles of mine, then I’ve devoured her~,” A cruel snicker followed these harrowing words.
Third Form…
The silence that followed the monster’s haunting reveal gave you your answer. You couldn’t sit by and leave these people in the threat of danger. Demon slayer, or not. You’re better than that. A breath sent straight to the depths of your core was the finish of your long wind up.
Honed Vigilance of the Sturdy Soldier.
You launched forward, having built up so much force behind your swing that the singular step alone carried to the monster’s weak point. In a flash, you brought down the blade of your naginata, lining up perfectly to land the first and final blow. Without warning, all three demons slink back into the swampy muck. However, you anticipated this. Though your blade couldn’t fully connect with its intended target, you stuck it further forward than the demon thought you could. With the added length of the shaft of your weapon, you were able to at least slice open part of the soft flesh of the demon’s neck. It was a warning—no, a promise. A promise that your perfect blade wouldn’t miss next time.
Your gaze darts around, searching for any sign of the triplets, but nothing appears yet. You lifted your eyes to acknowledge your fellow slayer, but were greeted with the eyes of pure hatred. It stunned you for a second. How strange. After a lifetime of seeing the eyes of malicious people with ill intent, human and demon alike, you wouldn’t have expected such passionate eyes and rosy cheeks to be torn apart with such a ghastly rage. Given the situation, you can’t say you’re entirely surprised that the boy is expressing such powerful emotions, but did he know this poor girl? Does he share the same grief of the man who looks beyond shattered after the reveal of its master plan? Why is he so devastated? You’re intrigued, but the questions can come later.
“Unforgivable. Vermin like these cowards don’t deserve to be graced with the honor of a quick death my blade brings,” you say, mostly to yourself, but the slayer catches your words. You care not to give him an explanation, especially when a dripping puddle forms just to the right of you. One of the demons clambers out with a swift leap. It aims for your face, its claws lashing out to strike. You move quicker, propelling your torso backward and smacking the roach with the pole of your naginata. The hit forces the demon to miss your body and instead lodge its outstretched arm into the stone wall beside you. The slayer thankfully catches on to your evasion and helps by slicing the demon’s arm clean off. A rather refreshing splash of cool water dripped onto your arms after his attack. Making sure it was not the blood of the demon, you can guess what his Breathing style is now. Always helpful to have a Water Breathing user around.
While he did manage to hit the target, it wasn’t exactly the right spot. You saw the flaws in his form. It was obvious he did have formal swordsman training, but he was still rather clunky in his preparation for the finishing blow. You saw him attempting to move his body into the correct position to match up with the timing of his Breathing technique, wiggling a squirming as his legs and arms fought against the natural power his body held. It left too many openings for his enemy to evade the slice that matters the most—the one to the neck. Demons weren’t like humans, cutting off a limb or slitting their throat wouldn’t prove fatal. You have to sever the spine from the skull with a true Nichirin blade to ensure a definite kill. That, or the sun—but only idiotic or regretful demons allow themselves to be burnt alive by its warmth.
With not a single peep of distress, the demon slunk back into its home in the mud. No time is given to either of you to process the retreat as another well of water forms next to the slayer. You watch as the slayer reacts with stunning efficiency, flipping his body up and over the attacking demon. As the vermin tries to launch back into the ground, it gives you just enough time to swipe at its throat again. Though, the demon tucks down its head, and your blade only meets its back. You decorate its left shoulder blade all the way to its right hip with a deep slash. You bit back a curse again, damn. They’re quick.
The slayer dodges a swift jab from below from one of demons hiding in a pond, but it proves to be a distraction as the opponent with two horns takes a stab at him from behind. Oh no. You can’t get there fast enough. You can’t bring your blade up quick enough to slash off its arm. The boy is going to be attacked and you can’t reach him. No. You can’t stop the attack without potentially harming the other slayer, you don’t stop. You can’t explain why you did this because no thought drove you to. Your body just moved on its own. It was just instinct.
You put yourself between the slayer and the oncoming attack.
However, the attack that connects doesn’t quite come from the angle you expected.
Nothing prepares you for the moment the slayer’s box he’s been lunging around on his back swings open with a ferocity you haven’t seen in awhile. You also couldn’t have been prepared for a strong leg to come out lightning fast directly after and CRACK across the demon’s face dead on. That hit quite literally sent it spinning, its head swiveling in circles on its spine and its body launched back a couple yards. You saw it lay there motionless on the ground. No way it's dead, right? As you picked up your jaw up off the ground and turned your gaze to whatever the hell could be hiding in the box, all you saw were claws.
This is where we found you when we first started. A pair of sharpened talons and vicious eyes honed in on your throat as you prepare to be torn apart by a demon draped in a pink kimono with black and orange hair.
You don’t have time to prepare your weapon for any attack. The demon is too close to get a good hit either way. It’s too fast, faster than any opponent you’ve faced before. All you can do is stare as she guns to swipe her knife-like nails across your delicate throat and end your days. Though, that blow is never completed. You blink, and suddenly, the demon doesn’t look so monstrous anymore. Suddenly, she’s just a girl. Gentle pink eyes with round irises gaze at you, blown out from their previously cinched slits. The deep veins previously thrumming on her forehead that carry her potent demon blood now smooth down into soft, flawless skin. Her expression doesn’t look nearly as petrifying anymore. In fact, you’d go so far as to say that her eyebrows are no longer furrowed downward in anger, rather, they’re pinched up in…worry? Concern?
…What the hell?
You stand scared stiff as the girl fully exits her home in the box. She stands on sturdy legs and shuffles slowly closer to you. You can only watch as the girl directs a kindhearted ‘hmm?’ through a muzzle made of bamboo at you. Yeah, you think you’re seeing things too. Is that the new fashion trend of this era for demons? Safe to say, you’re not gonna jump on the bandwagon for that one anytime soon.
Sassy thoughts aside, you continue to stare perplexed at the girl. Why is a demon standing in front of you and not attacking? Matter of fact, why has the only thing she, a DEMON, attacked so far been another demon? Weren’t there wars or some shit between demons that outlawed them hurting each other? Hey, don’t judge, mystical mind reader! You’re not a demonologist or anything, you don’t know all the thousand-year wars between demons and their blood feuds…WAIT A SECOND, THAT SLAYER WAS—!
“Why would a mere human be accompanying a demon?” The leader demon with one horn muttered to itself in boiling fury. The demon girl took a battle stance, facing the demon still laying on the ground. You glanced over at the demon barely poking its body out of the puddle and barely caught its look of disdain before it slunk back into the void. With a quiver and a shake from the motionless foe still on the ground, the two-horned demon’s head began to whirl wildly in the opposite direction that it had originally been sent spinning in. She must have pummeled the wretch good because its head took a few seconds to finally slow to a stop once it reached its natural position. The body was then consumed in a sludgy mess of ick, disappearing from sight. Back into the darkness the demons fled.
With the fleeting moment of rest, you took a second to gather yourself. A cold sweat had broken out all over your body at the appearance of the girl and from nearly escaping death by her hands. You steadied your grip on your naginata. She’s a demon. There’s no way she’s not. A kick that powerful cannot be human. It also explains why she can curl up inside a box for who knows how long. The box. The slayer. He had to have known she was in there, the weight alone would have given it away. If he knew she was in there…he must know. He has to know she’s a demon. He’s harboring a demon instead of killing it. He’s hiding the enemy. He’s an enemy.
The demon girl had taken the chance while you were in shock to wander over to the man and the woman. She had raised up her hands to their faces, almost like a mother trying to sweetly cup the cheeks of her babies. Oh my God, she’s going to rip their faces off. She’s toying with them.
She’s going to hurt them.
They only hurt people.
Help them.
Protect the innocent.
Yet again, you don’t think, you just move.
With no warning, you rocket forward. Your naginata is outstretched to reach the creature quicker as you aim straight for the demon’s vertebrae. This time, you won’t miss.
Too bad the “hapless little” slayer you were tasked to babysit stops your onslaught with a hefty block of his own katana. A mighty CLASH of steel on steel echoes throughout the walls of the back alley road. Your breath is steady and calm as you draw it in to fuel your Breathing technique. Years of training has led you to breath this deeply unconsciously, it has been like this for you for since you were young. The boy’s is shaky and uneven. He tries to catch your eyes with his own, trying to reason with you through a wordless plea for mercy, but you don’t give him the chance. You stare through his head with a thousand yard stare. You’re honed in on her neck peeking through her unbelievably long black locks. He’s not a threat, he’s just an obstacle. A hiss resonates from your blades dragging against one another. Though his stance is weaker than your own, the fire you can sense blazing within his soul confirms your suspicions from before. His passion extends to everything, not whether or not he personally knows the woman who died. He’s just that kind of soul. It would be honorable, if he wasn’t being such a deplorable little nuisance.
“Let me explain—,” he tries to reason, but you hold your own. Only when he speaks up do you finally greet his nervous irises with your own infuriated ones.
“Explain what? That you’re as dishonorable as they come? Harboring a demon? Not only refusing to slay the enemy, but also preventing another slayer from cleaning up the mess you left behind?!” You step back. The movement forces the boy to nearly trip over from how hard he was pushing back against you. You bring down a harsh swing of the wooden pole of your weapon straight into his side. He coughs and hacks, the air shoots out of his lungs. He noticeably struggles from the force of your blow. Yet, he continues to stand tall. He blocks the incoming swipe of your blade with a counter slash of his own and delivers a hard shove with his weapon. You stumble back, witnessing him form a defensive wall in front of the girl, stance wide and body ready to retaliate your advances with more strength than ever before.
“I refuse to hurt you, but I won’t let you kill Nezuko!” The boy yells at you with incredible volume. After gasping for air from when you slammed your staff into him, you’re surprised he can even speak. You continue to observe him, processing his words. Nezuko. That’s the girl’s name. Hm. How the hell did you learn the name of the girl who's not supposed to even BE here and haven’t caught the slayer’s? The Corps needs to get better at disclosing what nutcases you’re going to be saddled with in the future.
Before you could shout your own overflowing anger back out at him, your little spat is interrupted by the swamp demons. Two of them slither back up to the surface like writhing worms both holding frustrated expressions upon their faces. You sigh, eyeing who you now know as “Nezuko”. It pisses you off. You don’t want to stop trying to slay the demon, but there are more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the three demons who are actively trying to kill you all right now. The only thing good about Nezuko so far is that she hasn’t actually tried to eat you yet, so, small blessings, you suppose.
The slayer seems to have noticed them too. With a smack of your lips, you cut away from the duo. You ready up your naginata, aiming at the demons lingering in the background and charging up another form, when the girl demon does another thing that surprises you.
You distantly hear the slayer calling Nezuko’s name, but you don’t acknowledge it as you see her face toughen up the same way it did when she first attacked the demon gunning for the boy, rush forward with miraculous speed, lift her right leg up almost perpendicular to the ground, and slam it back to the spot where the closer demon had been. You hear the ground splinter, and it physically caved underneath the incredible force of her stomp. Sadly, the coward fled away from her attack into the swampy marsh below, leaving behind no trace of its existence.
Okay. Maybe there’s more than just one good thing about Nezuko. Point taken, universe.
You shake your head to clear your mind, dash over to the slayer and barricade in the man and the woman he is still clutching onto. The second demon, the one with one horn, chuckles with a sinister grin and slinks back into the darkness as well. Nezuko goes to chase after her foe, but the boy calls for her to cease her hunt.
“Nezuko! Don’t chase after him! Get back here!” You hear the boy call out to her. She halts, looking back with a deceiving aloof stare, and begins her brisk jog back to the four of you like a dog following their owner’s commands. On her way back, the swamp demon tries to take a cheap shot at her by popping out of a puddle and swiping at Nezuko’s legs.
“Nezuko!” The boy cried, and even you got a bit nervous at how close the ingrate got. However, Nezuko somersaulted high into the air, practically floated back down into a safe landing on her knee, and carried on her merry way. Like nothing even happened! She reached you guys, having completed her journey back to the slayer’s side. Even the swamp demon shared the same shocked expression as you had at her amazing feat. The boy had a troubled look on his face as he stared at Nezuko, some plan obviously swirling in his mind. He took a second to look around. Apparently, the demon decided he was taking too long to admire the scenery. Another puddle appeared directly below him. It tried to latch onto his foot, no doubt attempting to drag him under, but he jumped back as quickly as it appeared.
“Watch out!” The slayer’s shout doesn’t reach either of you in time. Out of nowhere, another pool appears next to you and Nezuko, and the demon with two horns catapulted out. He swipes his claws at you both, Nezuko fending off the brunt of the attack as you stepped in front of the bystanders. You forced them further back from the confrontation.
“Careful!” you yelled back at the civilian. You felt his shaking through the woman he carried as you pressed them away. Your legs are bent and your hands are grabbing your weapon with a tight grip. You train your eye on the demon, watching him lift his upper body up from the ground and squat deeper into a fighting stance.
“Nezuko,” the boy catches both of your attentions with her name, “I’m going underground! I want you to protect these two! You can do that, right?” Nezuko stopped to give him a knowing look, nodding her head in agreement with his plan. Though, you didn’t share the same kindness with him. From the vicious look you branded him with, he decided in that moment he would much rather face a hungry demon than endure the wrath of a pissed off woman.
“Leaving a demon in charge of protecting the humans? Man, what numbskull trained you?!” You snarled at the slayer with even more animosity than an angry bear possessed.
“Well—um…I’d have asked you to take care of them too, if I knew who you were, miss!” The boy shook his hands back and forth, sweating up a storm and stuttering over his flaws. A fleet of “I’m sorry”’s spilled out of his lips, upset at how bold he was being to a woman he had just met. He appeared to be trying to reconcile all the broken bridges you had between you two thus far, but that plan didn’t seem to be going super well at the moment. You’d have laughed at the nervous expression he now donned if you weren’t currently in a life or death situation.
You deadpanned at him. You looked over at Nezuko, who only gave you a slight tilt of her head as if asking ‘What do you want me to do about it?’.
“Oh, don’t agree with him!” You muttered while shooting a much less intimidating glare at the cutesy girl. You’re sure if Nezuko could laugh through that freak muzzle holding back the maw of razor-sharp teeth she probably hid away, she would have. With a now hardened expression, the slayer lifted his foot and stepped forward into the swirling puddle of sludgy black goop sitting right in front of him. As he sunk further and further down, and bit your lip in worry. Hey, he might be a dumbass and a fugitive by the Corps laws, but if he was going to die down there, you might as well give him your name.
“Hey!” The boy glanced back up at you.
“I’m (Y/N) (L/N)! Don’t die down there before I get yours in return, okay?!” You yelled over at him. He didn’t have time to give you his name back, so all he could do was give you a wide smile. Those damn bright eyes and rosy cheeks. There was that passion again. The same drive that sent your brain floundering for an explanation. He is so odd.
“What a dreadful start to this evening,” You let out a deep sigh as you readied up for a dicey battle fighting alongside your sworn enemy.
~ To be continued… ~
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I do not own the story of Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba). I do not own the characters of Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba). I am not a part of the crew who has participated in the creation of the manga or anime of Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba). I am not making any profit off of this story.
After a week of being villainess it's starting to get difficult being around the prince, back talks with how they'd be a better princess next to the prince you're getting fed up! And the prince isn't any better.
So when you saw the prince and heroine hanging out more than with you YOU CELEBRATED, CHEERS! Tho the breakup didn't happen immediately?
Being a woman with riches OF HER OWN meant you could blow it all and still have plenty but you opted to help the people who weren't so materialistic, and hey they didn't back stab you yet.
You've always made sure villainess's personal knight didn't see your passion project. You wanted to stay away from the plot as far as possible and sir knight as loyal with handsome as he is he still chose the heroine even tho the villainess choose good
While out relaxing a kid bumps into you, you recognize the kiddy to be the Dukes missing son. You asked a village girl to take care of the boy and bring him back to Duke Evlot estate ehem heem which was near.
Now the villainess you didn't have friends and being quite bad at making any you opted out trying hobbies you always wanted to do but didn't have time for in your previous life because of social media distractions. Now! Languages wouldn't be useful since travelling around the globe isn't a thing in the past. Singing but people are into Oprah here...... Writing BAM ITS A HIT tho hard but you can stay up as late as you like since you don't have anything to do tomorrow
You were sick as a wet stick oneday not enough sleep bites you back I guess. Huh you have a visitor? Who? He's claiming to be your childhood friend I guess so... You play along, you see you were hit pretty hard in the head before you reincarnated so he couldn't blame you even if he wished. He's talking about how his parents miss you being around and you nod along Gezz this is getting awkward you don't recognize this guy either..
Finally I wanted to make Something just like this! And it's here envisioned and written PRAISE ME AHAHHAHAJAJK
“ψ(｀∇´)ψ and I'm very proud that I didn't write any dialog as everyone will have different thoughts=different delulu
