Same Poison in a Different Vein.
ꕥ Being of the earliest demons that was transformed, you sure as hell weren't used to this bright city landscape you suddenly awoke in. But you're a quick to realize the creatures that roam this place that seem to suffer from similar problems of your own world. Will you remedy them as you're trying for those in your own world?
wc: 3.1k
extra: i'm not too familiar with her character so im sorry if this is ooc! + kinda rushed, my badddd
tamayo!fem! reader x kpdh | should i do a pt 2?
MASTERLIST | Akaza ver. | part 2
Your presence was as soft as a hum lost in a loud concert, barely noticed, but still real.
On the same wide rooftop, was a battle you weren’t supposed to see, or, that’s what you believed. But your sudden appearance on that rooftop so close to the eight who were in the middle of battling made you second guess the initial thought.
Nonetheless, you lowered your body to conceal most of yourself behind the nearby large ventilator, it fanned your face as you gazed carefully at the fight.
Three girls in matching attire with weapons that glowed a bright white with colors of pink and blue mixing in, it glowed against the night sky. One had a long purple braid with a sword that swung diligently, another with buns that threw a weapon that looked like shurikens from a distance, and another girl with bright pink hair that wielded a weapon that resembled a polearm.
While the five boys held less human appearances, you could barely observe that the ends of their hands were a dark and unnatural purple, patterns of a deep hue of purple patterns crawling up their necks. Their eyes glowed a bright amber that when they moved, it’d leave streaks in the air where they moved.
You stare at them, the girls are sure to be human. Despite their unnatural hair colors that you weren’t used to, you tallied the marks and it’s evident that between the eight of them, the girls were much more human-like.
Now with the men, they were tall and too quick for those untrained, not only that but they weren’t even attacking with weapons- just their claws.
You observe a bit more and it takes you a moment, your sharp nails digging into the metal as you debated whether it was worth it to stop the fight.
But then you remember your time with Tanjiro and the others, how much he and Nzeuko worked to collect the blood of those of high ranking demons.
Then that makes you think of the pitiful creatures in this world: were these men being kept in the same cage of sorrow and desperation as you were once in?
Your wide eyes narrow softly at the thought, the thought of it all broke that part in your soul that still felt human empathy.
Then one of the girls fell, the one with the long hair, landing on her side with a sickening thud, but you catch sight of a deep gash from the claws of one of the attackers, the one with a teal head of hair.
Then another one screams a threat, the one with bright hair tied up in two ponytails, a sharp swing to the being that harmed the one with braided hair. The other one with black hair pulls the girl back to save her from another attack.
“Now you’ve done it!”
“Rumi! Are you alright?!”
While on the battlefield, Rumi, who had fallen, got up, gritting her teeth as she swung her sword with her other hand somehow still skillfully, aiming for the neck of Baby, who had deceived her into falling in the first place.
Zoey purses her lips but falls back, letting Rumi move freely as she also continues to battle the Saja boys.
All while Mira and Zoey kept on wielding attacks, sending out swings and spikes like their lives depended on it, sweat building up on their brow as the fight spurs on.
“You’re more than your patterns.. More than a demon.”
A whisper sounds through, you can’t tell who said it, but it felt like a signal for you to interfere. The injured girl, her eyes flickered with sympathy in that moment, and so did the man with jet black hair, the two swinging at each other despite this strange tension between.
And the words themselves make you pause, you blink.
These girls must be defending something the same way the Demon Slayer corps were defending humanity by slaying demons.
So demons exist here as well? And more than that, there is sympathy? At the very least some sort of pity towards them.
You decide to pull up your sleeve,
“Scent of Illusory Blood, Visual Dream”
Then all of the sudden, a harp plays a single note, then for all eight of those fighting, their senses get overloaded with bright floral visuals.
Hemp leaf backgrounds of purples and blues that are half covered by bright colored flowers that continued to bloom across the stream, roses and such ignited in thin air. Sparkles that shined too bright made some wince from the sudden gas.
Rumi grips her shoulder and sword tighter, tense and swinging at the patterns to try and release herself from this bubble of florals.
Mira does the same, but when she cuts at the patterns, they only bleed downwards, and smoke that looks like it burned from old scrolls of a forgotten time erupts from her swing, creating more flowers to confuse her..
Zoey throws more of her shin-kal, but it gets lost after flying through a flower, the air ripples but doesn’t grow any less dense, she panics and tries to run and feel the blade run across the sensation. She’s horrified when the sweet aroma grows stronger.
Jinu gasps, looking behind him for his crew, only to lose them in this amalgamation of a floating garden. The patterns look traditional despite being surreal that he was trapped in this little cube of distraction.
Mystery’s jaw drops at the sudden intrusion, instinctively sniffing at the flowers, but only an empty sweet scent follows through, he wanders through the strings of this strange mirage.
Romance claws at one of the flowers almost reverently, if this was an illusion, it was a beautiful one. Being lost in the aesthetics, he follows this stream of moving objects, he only stops when he realizes just how potent these images are.
Abby is not doing all that much better, mindlessly thrashing at the flowing glitter, the shimmer lands on his skin and it irritates him further, trying to find a way out of this overwhelmingly bright fog or images.
Baby grunted, trying to run away and create gashes at this wall of flowers and hemp leaves, only for it to mesh together even more, creating an even more distorting affect that spooked the teal haired demon.
You walked through your given powers easily, spotting the wounded girl, walking up from behind, but she senses you, swinging her sword instinctually at you. The blow lands and blood spurts out from the wound.
A blow in the side of your head that landed in an oddly familiar spot as the demon who claimed to be one of the Twelve Uppermoons, a part of yourself falls to the ground but you grimace.
The girl’s eyes widen at the sight of blood, and the sight of you yourself.
You were on the shorter side, with big lavender eyes that had a soft gradient into a pale color, hair that was neatly tied up before, a pin in your hair, adorning a kimono with a dark colors and flower patterns that gave away that it was you who incited this gassy mirage.
(Tamayo is literally 4 '11/150 canonically, so you’re short too…)
And despite the wound she gave you, you merely step one small step closer, like you were approaching some scared prey.
“Do not fret, I have no ill intention of hurting you more than you have already been hurt.” You say, checking in on the deep scratches of your arm that had rising wisps of smoke that looked nearly animated in the air.
Rumi’s breath gets caught in her throat at the sight of your self-inflicted injuries.
Your voice was so soft and wistful, your appearance and aura itself was so cloudy and hazy. Like you were smoke that would disperse when wind passes through.
And your eyes, blank but brimming with sophistication and worry, your hands slightly outstretched for her to take.
“You- your head..”
Being reminded, your hand reaches to the blow she had made into your visage, and the regeneration process starts, and you look back at her in the eye.
“I will be fine.” You curtly reply, not letting her truly feel like you fully addressed what she did to you.
Unfortunately, someone had managed to see through tiny gaps of the streams of plants and shimmer, and his claws sharpened to attack.
Noticing this before you do, due to your back being turned, the girl in braids whisks out her arm to pull you in haphazardly.
With your face facing her torso as her arm curls around you boldly and protectively as she swung her sword out, Abby’s hands bounce from the failed attack, causing him to have to jump over and once again, get lost in the running rivers of dreams.
You gasp, turning your head up to see the expression of the hot pink haired demon, his cat eyes widening when he catches sight of you.
“For such a soft looking lady, you sure are bold to show your face mid battle.” The woman huffs, loosening her grip on you, her eyes scaling across what she could register now that she had an extra body to protect.
(I headcanon that Rumi has a personality gap if you compare her personality when battling and normal.)
Abby crashes into Romance, which causes him to screech, causing everyone to wince from the horrid noise, which finally causes them all to disappear into a pink puff of smoke, teleported against their will back into the underworld.
Then the air grew too quiet, devoid of confused grunts and cries, a girl's voice cries out. “Rumi?! Mira?!”
Taking that as a sign that this battle could possibly be over, you stop your blood demon art, the flowers circling into a more organized and uniform flow that went in one direction, leading the two girls towards you and this ‘Rumi’.
Rumi! Is your arm alright?!” A deep voice rings, a soft smile crosses Rumi’s face at the sight of her girls again, safe and unharmed.
Sharp eyes grow sharper when the girl sees you, raising her weapon, your eyes are not normal for a demon so it’d be plausible you could be a threat too. Or an unruly force, especially if you were the one who made that illusion.
“Rumi, who is she..?” the girl with space buns asks, tilting her head to see you better. Her tone held less malice and more curiosity.
“I made the illusions with my blood demon art.” You clarify, shifting so you would be easier to see to both of them.
“That was you? Then that would mean…”
“Yes, I am a demon, but I am also a doctor.” You introduce, your hand resting on your chest, the girl with purple hair’s eyes widened, so did the one with buns.
“My name is Tamayo [Name].” You introduce yourself, trying to frame it so you wouldn’t be perceived as a threat because if they were trained to be demon slayers, they could very well attack you.
The girls pick up from your soft tone that you are not here to cause more trouble and their edges soften, mostly.
“I am so sorry to ask, but is it possible that I could reside in your abode? At this very moment I have no place to go and I cannot bear to survive in the sun.” You plead, tucking your hair that fell from your hairstyle earlier behind your ear. Rumi notices how you somehow recovered and got a new ear,,,
You stand off to the side when the girls regroup and discuss in silent whispers about what to do with you, you pay them their privacy. All you really need was somewhere to stay so your skin wouldn’t meet the sun, and that was all you’re hoping for.
Then they all turn back to you.
“Well then.. Tamayo… we think we can make room for one more, if you’re willing.”
A small smile lights up your face, it doesn’t reach your eyes, but it doesn’t have to honestly.
“Thank you in advance for your help.” You bow, the girl exchanges looks, some less trusting than others, but your misty way of talking somehow smoothes the tension over with an icy coat.
And with that, you’re carried to the Huntr/x headquarters, you’re surprised to see such a grand home so high in the sky with cushions that you knew that only the richest could afford in your time.
And within that time of commuting, you had learned the names of these ‘Demon Hunters’, tucking them into your head.
You stay in place, moving when Rumi flopped onto the couch, her injured arm nearly staining the grey white couch, you’re quick to stop her blood from making contact with the cushion.
“Here, I will tend to that. Do you have any aid I can use?” you ask the other two, Zoey nods and disappears, reappearing with a pep in her step as she comes back and hands you a box with a handle.
Your eyes are low and focused as you go through the materials, recognizing the materials by their distinctive smells.
Rolling up her sleeves, your hands softly dab at the wound, but something catches your eye in the midst of your healing.
Actually, a lot of things catch your eyes while you’re tending to Rumi.
First: the fact that Mira was glaring from the kitchen in the back, but you do not blame her, for she must feel apprehensive about letting a demon into her home, you let her stare. For she is only trying to guarantee the safety of her comrades.
Second: the tension in Rumi’s body when you appeared to tend to her, especially when you started rolling her sleeves up.
Third: purple lines that ran in zigzags on Rumi’s pale skin. They looked a lot like the patterns that were on the men they were fighting.
So these are the patterns they were talking about? You take note of it, but take no action to call it out verbally, for your patient’s strained expression told you enough.
From Mira’s expression, she cannot deny how quaint and soft you were, despite being a demon, you didn’t have any of that smugness. No malicious look in your eyes, you weren’t poisoning Rumi from what she picked up, you didn’t mutter anything strange other than medicinal products, no small talk, nothing.
Maybe you were… harmless.
You tied a bow with the bandaids around her wound, signifying that you were finished.
Rumi was staring at you the entire time you were working. You were just so gentle, treated her with professionalism while also being tender to her wound.
And when you finished, you were approached by Zoey who wore an eager smile.
Clearly your looks, voice, and actions had won her over already.
“Do you have anything you’d like to eat?” she asks.
You pursed your lips, “Is there a possibility where you could get some blood from consenting blood donors?”
Zoey’s eyes widened and you both just stared at each other, blank looks.
“Uhhh, I’ll make some calls!” She gives you a thumbs up, a signal you’re not all too familiar with, you tilt your head- Zoey mentally fawns over you even more.
In about an hour, while you were sitting on a sage green chair near the window off to the side, admiring the bright lights of the city, a cold blue instead of the warm yellow from the lanterns of Asakusa that you were used to.
And true to her word, Zoey comes back with two packs of blood that are sealed in bags you’d see in hospitals often, your eyes soften at the sight of her bright smile.
“Ah, thank you Zoey.” You take two bags from her and let her lead you into the kitchen where you’d store the second one while you drank the first.
Sitting on a stool in said kitchen, you poke a small hole into the bag and let the red liquid pour into a cup from which you drank from, then you also drank the second.
All the while Zoey sat next to you and watched, you were so ethical when it came into blood drinking and a doctor too! With how well you treated Rumi, it’s possible they could rely on you for injuries instead of professionals paid to not ask questions!
And when the sun rises, you’re escorted into a guest room of a size that you were shocked with. You thanked them over and over for giving up such a large bedroom with a personal bathroom.
A few days flew by and everyone had grown accustomed to your presence in the house.
Always tending to wounds, even if they claimed it was fine, you shushed them and continued to tend to them.
They taught you about demons of their world when you explained yours; their eyes softened slightly when you mentioned that you are trying to help make a drug that could rid someone of the curse of being a demon.
Rumi perked up at that especially.
You were growing used to your new and modern surroundings, accepting slowly that this could be your life for who knows how long.
You always asked questions on how to approach things, tilted your head whenever someone tried to explain slang terms, bobbed your head on beat to the soft songs that any of them would introduce you to.
And with that slow acceptance, you were slowly melting your way into this dynamic trio, becoming a caretaker of their wounds and living space. You didn’t have much to do with all your resources back home, so you’d have to just make the most of it here.
You’re always careful as to not touch anything, especially anything electronic. It’s endearing to see you inch away from remotes or place them across the couch so you don't scare yourself with the TV turning on suddenly.
Your presence was welcomed in the house of Huntr/x, Bobby liked your very calm and professional yet considerate demeanor.
You never really slept so you’d always let the girls’ head rest on your shoulder or your lap, doing Zoey’s hair to look like your’s, braiding Rumi’s hair, listening to Mira about her day despite having nothing to add.
But despite it all, you keep yourself small, you don’t ask for much outside of meals, you don’t pry about their lives, even though you wanted to- especially towards Rumi, but it seems like she’s not ready for that conversation yet.
You try not to make yourself an attachment to these girls, to not be a distraction because it seems like they’re already dealing enough with the Saja boys.
Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use your demon blood art again, it would only raise questions, create more chaos, and garner unwanted attention from their leader- who you learned was Gwi-Ma.
A familiar feeling of resentment bubbles in your stomach at the explanation.
I REWATCHED THIS SCENE AND SMILED,
AHHH SHE'S SO CUTEEEE
anyways, IM SORRY IF SHE'S OOC, I DID WHAT I COULDD....