❅ ── edging is one of his many cruelties, and he’s exquisitely sadistic about it. he’ll watch you squirm, listen to your begging, and only allow release when your voice cracks into sobs. not that he’s merciful, but because he finds your swollen eyes and runny nose unbecoming.
❅ ── control disguised as generosity. he’ll make you ride him, but only so he can sit back and watch how pathetic you look scrambling for your own pleasure, while he corrects your pace with a lazy hand on your hip.
❅ ── takes particular delight in humiliating post-climax rituals: watching his spend leak out of you, ordering you to push it back inside with trembling fingers while he scolds you about how wasteful and ungrateful you are. his tone is closer to a lecture than dirty talk, but the cold authority in it makes your pussy clench all the same.
❅ ── aftercare is selective at best. he might smooth your hair back or examine the marks he left with the detached eye of a critic, as though checking a painting for flaws. if he’s feeling magnanimous, he’ll even hold you for a while, though his embrace is stiff, his skin unnaturally cold. affection offered as a favour, not a given.
黒死牟 KOKUSHIBŌ
❅ ── isn’t vocal in the conventional sense, but he mutters in a low rasp when he’s close, words half-intelligible, praising and damning you in the same breath. his dirty talk is sparse, they take the form of orders (“spread your legs wider. hold still.”) that leave no room for refusal.
❅ ── values control above all else. if you try to assert power over him, he will correct you with severity.
❅ ── cannot resist marking you. loves sinking his teeth into your shoulder or throat, leaving half-moon dents and dark bruises that blossom under his mouth, but he stops short of blood.
❅ ── often corrects your posture during sex, and you do it because his displeasure is rarer than praise and therefore terrifyingly precious.
❅ ── has a fixation with filling you. presses in deep, keeps you spread open until his spend is dripping out, and still thrusts shallowly to push it back inside.
❅ ── slow thrusting that turns into violence only when provoked. he can be methodical for hours, then ramp up suddenly with a directive so small you almost miss it and find yourself sobbing with the force of it.
❅ ── soft moments are almost always conditional. a whisper of praise, a chaste kiss to your temple, they are rewards and you will crave them because they are so seldom given.
童磨 DŌMA
❅ ── doesn’t really feel desire the way most do, but he recognises a shallow level of lust like one recognises hunger: a gnawing, bodily itch. so he follows it with zeal, as though fucking you is simply another form of consumption. and dōma is enthusiastic to the point of unnerving, praising you between mocking giggles, all while splitting you open on his cock as if he’s sharing an inside joke with himself.
❅ ── foreplay is essentially provocation. doma delights in pissing you off. his usual antics include nuzzling along your jaw without actually kissing you, circling your clit with a frozen fingertip until you’re thrashing.
❅ ── verbal degradation is his lingua franca. “such a greedy little thing, can’t believe you’d sink so low for me” paired with a smile so saccharine it almost sounds like a compliment. the jolly cadence creates a dissonance, because he never drops the cheerful act.
❅ ── has an air of cheer even while being cruel. especially then. no matter if you’re begging or crying or even cursing at him—he only laughs, clapping his hands as though you’ve told a particularly good joke.
❅ ── finds your tears hilarious and hot, usually licks them right off your cheeks while laughing.
❅ ── overstimulation. keeps you in his lap, while he tsks about how sensitive you are, how silly it is that you’re trying to wriggle away when your cunt clearly doesn’t want to let go. if you cry, he cups your face sweetly and coos, “adorable! i knew you’d look prettier like this.” (he genuinely thinks he’s complimenting you)
❅ ── doesn’t understand aftercare in any genuine sense. wiping you down, holding you close, murmuring soft reassurances etc. those are things he mimics because he’s seen people do them, like an actor reciting lines from a play. the gestures are hollow, but his smile is so bright enough you believe he means it.
❅ ── cums inside you every single time because… well. why wouldn’t he?
猗窩座 AKAZA
❅ ── soft dominance is his default. doesn’t degrade you, won’t even tolerate you degrading yourself in a non-sexual context (he gets viscerally upset) . instead he builds you up with firm praise.
❅ ── refuses to finish before you. it’s a code of conduct, carved into him as deeply as his martial discipline. whether it’s his tongue flattening against your clit, his fingers curling inside you, or his cock stretching you out, your orgasm is the opening act, and his the encore.
❅ ── loves testing your limits, but not without consent. he’ll push you harder, but the moment you use your safeword, he halts as though your word is law. nothing makes him prouder than coaxing another orgasm out of you while you’re trembling: “just one more, you’ve got this. i know you can.” this is essentially a form of devotion, his belief that you are stronger than you think.
❅ ── his refractory period is basically nonexistent a.k.a he gets hard again real fast, but rarely pushes for more unless you initiate. when you do, he smiles almost sheepishly, like you’ve just given him another reason to be grateful for your existence.
❅ ── aftercare with akaza is meticulous to the point of ritualistic? he wipes you down with care, kneads the strain from your muscles until the ache fades. his body runs hot, and he uses it like a blanket, wrapping you against his chest, one broad hand stroking your back in steady passes until your breathing evens. always keeps watch while you sleep.
hiiii I love ur works!! may I request manhandling for akaza and if it's okay, maybe douma too.. 😓👉👈
── 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 ! manhandling with akaza and douma
✦ content. fem reader manhandling, dubcon elements, size kink, degradation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, biting, blood mention, creampie, predator/prey dynamics, choking, semi-public risk, aftercare (akaza), lack of aftercare (dōma), manipulation, power imbalance
author's ✿︎ notes. this request is soooo hot. honestly i could've written it in a totally different way-- but i chose to keep it close to the anime. the upper moons currently have a hold on me. anyways, thank you for this request & i hope it is up to your expectations. i love you angel
✎ 𝒂kaza 𓂃 ♡︎
the shrine had long since lost its holiness. once, maybe, people had come here with prayers, with offerings, with trembling hands clutching candles and coins, whispering for blessings into the air. but now the roof sagged under the weight of moss and rain, wood split open by years of rot, the altar cracked and jagged like teeth. it smelled of mildew, of damp stone, of something long forgotten. when you stepped past the broken gate, it felt like walking into a mouth that meant to swallow you whole.
you told yourself you came here to investigate, to track whispers of demons prowling in the area, to follow duty where it called. but the truth slipped into your mind, unshakable—you shouldn’t be here. not alone. not in the silence of night, where even the wind dared not move through the trees. the stillness pressed on you, heavy as a weight on your chest, until the fine hairs at the back of your neck prickled.
that was when he appeared. you didn’t see him walk in. you didn’t even hear the floorboards creak. you just felt it first—the crushing weight of presence, like the air had turned to stone, like your lungs forgot how to breathe. akaza stood where the moonlight bled through the broken roof, tattoos glowing faintly under pale light, eyes sharp, unblinking, unhuman. his voice cut the silence, low and steady, carrying a cruel amusement.
“hm. another slayer wandering in where they shouldn’t. fragile little thing… you really thought you’d make it out of here alive?”
your sword was already in your hand, heart hammering as you forced your body into motion. you lunged first, trying to seize control, trying to bite down on fear and twist it into strength. the blade sliced toward him—but it never landed. his hand lashed out, faster than thought, knocking steel aside as if it were nothing more than paper. his other hand clamped around your wrist, fingers digging so deep you swore he could crush bone if he wanted.
you jerked, twisted, fought, but it was useless. his strength was overwhelming. before you could gasp, your back slammed against the cracked altar, the sharp edge biting into your spine. the impact knocked air from your lungs, leaving you gasping like a fish on land. your blade clattered across the broken floor, useless.
akaza’s grin stretched slow, wolfish, as he leaned close enough for his breath to ghost against your face. “you fight with spirit,” he murmured, grip tightening when you tried to squirm free. “but spirit won’t save you. not when you’re this weak. not when you’re this breakable.”
his free hand moved to your uniform, fingers curling into the fabric over your chest. the tear was sharp, merciless—the sound of cloth splitting open echoed loud in the empty shrine. he didn’t bother with precision; he didn’t need to. your haori ripped down the middle, falling open to expose the skin beneath. his hand slid inside, palm rough and hot against your bare stomach, pushing higher until he gripped your breast hard enough to make you gasp.
“too fragile,” he drawled, thumb brushing over your nipple as if testing, then pinching cruelly, making your back arch against the altar. “i could crush you with one hand… but no. i’d rather break you in other ways.”
your legs kicked, trying to push him off, but he seized both thighs at once, fingers digging into flesh. in one brutal motion, he forced them apart, spreading you wide over his lap as he dragged you closer. the wooden altar dug into your back, sharp and unyielding, as he shoved your legs up until your knees nearly pressed to your chest.
“stay still,” he growled, pressing his weight forward to pin you. his hand slid down, tugging at the waist of your trousers. another rip—fabric splitting as easily as paper—and he yanked them off, leaving your lower half exposed to the cold air and his heated gaze.
you opened your mouth to curse him, but the words broke into a cry when he shoved two thick fingers between your folds, spreading you open with obscene ease. the intrusion was rough, fast, forcing your body to react before your mind could catch up. slick coated his fingers almost instantly, and his grin widened, sharp and cruel. “already wet? pathetic little slayer—your body betrays you.”
he withdrew just long enough to shove his own trousers down, his cock heavy and flushed, the sight alone making your stomach twist. then he lined himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance. the resistance was sharp, the stretch nearly unbearable—but he didn’t pause, didn’t give you time to adjust. with one brutal thrust, he slammed inside, burying himself to the hilt.
you choked on the breath that ripped from your lungs, body bowing off the altar as the stretch burned through you, walls clenching desperately around the intrusion. his grip on your thighs tightened, forcing them wider, locking you in place as he pulled back and slammed into you again, harder, deeper, the sound of your body taking him echoing through the ruined shrine.
“fuck,” akaza groaned, head tipping back, tattoos glowing faintly in the moonlight. “so tight. even your cunt’s trying to fight me.” his hips snapped forward with punishing force, each thrust rocking the altar beneath you. “but you can’t win this fight either, can you?”
your cries tumbled out broken, sobs and whimpers spilling into the cold night air as his pace grew merciless. he leaned down, his mouth hot against your jaw, teeth grazing before sinking in—not enough to pierce, but enough to make you jolt. “you’re trembling,” he muttered against your skin, voice dark, taunting. “your body loves this. every squeeze, every twitch—you were made to be ruined like this.”
each thrust forced slick down your thighs, dripping onto the altar, pooling beneath you. your nails clawed helplessly at the wood, leaving shallow grooves as heat coiled low in your belly, unbearable and blinding.
“don’t hold back,” akaza snarled, hips snapping into you faster, deeper. “cum for me—show me how weak you are.”
and when it broke, it was violent, tearing the breath from your lungs as you convulsed around him, tears streaking down your cheeks. your orgasm hit hard, walls spasming, dragging a guttural groan from his chest. he pounded through it, chasing his own high, until his hips stuttered and his cock spilled hot ropes of cum deep inside you, filling you until it leaked messily around his length.
you slumped against the altar, trembling, throat raw from sobs. akaza stayed pressed to you, cock still buried deep, his grin cruel and satisfied. his thumb brushed a tear from your cheek almost mockingly. “fragile little thing,” he murmured, voice rough, “and yet you take me perfectly.”
then his hips shifted again, his cock twitching back to life inside your overstimulated cunt. his grin widened, sharp as a blade. “we’re not done. i’ll break you over and over—until you forget what it means to stand against me.”
✎ 𝒅ōma 𓂃 ♡︎
the lotus temple was quiet. too quiet.
by day it seemed serene—bright lanterns swaying, golden statues smiling benignly, prayers murmured into incense smoke. but by night, when shadows pooled in the corners and the air grew still, it became something else. the painted faces of the bodhisattvas warped in the dark, their smiles eerie and knowing, their hands reaching endlessly in frozen blessing. you should have turned back the second you crossed the threshold, but you didn’t. curiosity or duty carried you inside.
and that was when you heard it—the laughter. light, airy, musical, but wrong. it didn’t echo properly. it slid through the dark like oil, clinging to your skin, chilling you to the bone.
“ooh… a guest.”
your stomach dropped. he hadn’t stepped from anywhere—you simply blinked, and he was there. dōma, upper moon two, sat casually at the base of a massive statue, lotus-shaped war fan twirling lazily between his fingers. his eyes—bright, gleaming with too much light to be human—fixed on you with a delight that felt like claws dragging over glass.
“how lucky am i?” he said with that too-cheerful lilt, tilting his head as if truly considering it. “the night was starting to feel so lonely, and here you come stumbling in. a pretty little slayer, all alone. ahh, i feel blessed.”
your blade was already out, shaking slightly despite your grip. you lunged—fast, precise, desperate. but before the tip could even graze him, his fan clattered to the floor and his hand shot out, clamping around your throat with effortless strength.
“tsk, tsk,” he sang, voice bubbling with laughter as he lifted you effortlessly off the floor, legs kicking. “so aggressive! but you’re trembling… do you really think you can hurt me?”
you clawed at his wrist, the pressure at your throat making spots dance in your vision. he smiled wider at your struggling, as though each desperate kick was entertainment. then, with a casual swing of his arm, he slammed you down against the polished temple floor. the breath flew out of your lungs, chest heaving uselessly as your sword skittered out of reach.
“much better,” dōma hummed, kneeling over you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand as if they were weightless. “look at you… all pinned down like a little insect. don’t worry, i’ll take good care of you. i always take care of my guests.”
his free hand slid over your chest, fingertips featherlight, deceptively tender. then, with a sudden vicious tug, he gripped your uniform and ripped it open down the middle. fabric tore under his claws like paper, exposing the soft skin beneath. his eyes glittered as he leaned down, tongue darting out to lap across your collarbone with mocking reverence.
“mmm… delicious,” he purred, teeth grazing. “so warm. so human. you make the cutest noises when you squirm, did you know that?”
you tried to jerk your wrists free, tried to shove him off with your knees, but his grip was unyielding. he only laughed at your struggles, as if they delighted him. “oh, don’t pout. it’s fun when you fight. but you’ll learn—” his hand slid lower, cupping you between your thighs through the fabric of your trousers, squeezing with enough pressure to make you gasp, “—you’ll always lose.”
he didn’t wait. another sharp tug tore your trousers at the seam, leaving you half-bared under him. his fingers trailed along the edge of your underwear before hooking in and yanking those away too, discarding them in a careless flick.
“ahh, now that’s better,” dōma cooed, eyes darkening with something hungrier as he spread your legs apart with his knees, forcing you open under him. “so pretty like this. like a flower, just for me.”
you hissed through your teeth, shame and fury burning hot, but it only made his grin widen. he shifted down, one hand pinning your wrists still, the other spreading you with merciless ease. when his fingers pressed inside, the intrusion was sudden and unrelenting—two sinking deep without warning, curling against sensitive walls that made your body betray you with a sharp, unwilling moan.
“ohhh, listen to that,” he crooned, pumping his fingers at a punishing pace, each thrust stretching you open further. “music to my ears. mm, you’re squeezing me so tight already. how adorable.”
slick coated his fingers quickly, dripping messily onto the floor. he withdrew them just to lick them clean, humming with obscene delight at the taste. “sweet, sweet, sweet. just as i thought.”
then he freed himself—trousers undone with a lazy tug, his cock heavy and flushed, obscene in the dim temple light. he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing the head against your folds, smearing slick across your swollen skin.
“you ready?” he asked in a sing-song voice, mocking because he had no intention of waiting. “of course you’re not. but that’s the fun part.”
he slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. your body arched violently off the floor, a cry tearing from your throat as the sudden stretch burned through you, hot and unbearable.
“nnnh—” dōma groaned, eyes fluttering, his smile turning near feral. “ohhh… that’s perfect. you’re so tight. oh, you poor thing, you’re shaking already. don’t worry, i’ll break you in gently.”
he didn’t mean gently. his hips began to snap forward in quick, merciless thrusts, his cock driving deep again and again until the wet, lewd sounds of your bodies echoed through the temple. every movement shoved you harder into the cold floor, wrists aching under his grip, legs spread wide by his weight.
“so loud,” he teased, laughing between groans. “every moan, every cry—ah, i could eat you up.” his lips pressed to your jaw, sucking a bruise there before nipping cruelly. “and maybe i will. but not before i’ve ruined this sweet little body.”
your climax built sharp, unbearable, heat curling in your belly as each thrust hit deeper, harder, stealing every breath from your lungs.
“that’s it,” dōma sang, his pace quickening, hips slamming into you so hard it hurt. “break for me, my good girl. cum for me—i want to feel you drown on my cock.”
when it hit, it was devastating, your walls clenching violently around him, squeezing him so tight he groaned loud, head tipping back. he fucked you through it, riding your trembling spasms until his thrusts grew sloppy and he spilled inside you, filling you so deep the warmth leaked back out around him.
he slumped over you briefly, panting, then licked the tears off your cheeks with a bright, delighted hum. “mmm. salty. sweet. perfect.” his grin curved cruel and charming at once. “see? i told you i’d take care of you. aren’t you glad you wandered in?”
his cock twitched still buried inside, his smile widening like a blade. “and don’t pout, little flower. we’ve got all night.”
"you fall asleep on the upper moons, and none of them have the slightest idea what to do about it… or how to feel.”
✶⋆.˚ MUZAN KIBUTSUJI
The quiet in his study was absolute. Not even the ticking of a clock dared to exist there. Just the low hum of the gramophone spinning a slow, haunting melody that filled the dark room with a deceptive calm.
Muzan didn’t look up from his book when your head started to dip, though he’d noticed the way your posture kept slackening for several minutes now. Humans, he thought with quiet disdain, are endlessly fragile things.
He turned a page. You shifted.
And then, without ceremony, your head tilted and landed lightly against his shoulder.
The sound of the page stopped mid-turn.
Muzan’s crimson eyes flicked sideways, narrowing slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what you’d just done. His jaw tightened. “…You dare fall asleep on me?” he murmured, voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that could make even silence feel like a threat.
He stared down at you, expression unreadable. The nerve of you. The sheer audacity to lean against him, the progenitor of all demons, as though he were a pillow.
A faint scoff escaped him. “Foolish girl,” he muttered. “You’re so careless… I could kill you before you even woke.”
His voice carried the same flat detachment he used when dissecting someone’s weakness. Yet he didn’t move.
Your breathing slowed, warm against the fabric of his shirt. The faint rhythm of your heartbeat filled the quiet—fragile, human, alive.
Muzan’s gaze lingered despite himself. His eyes traced the curve of your face, softened by sleep. His lips parted slightly, as if to remind you aloud how stupid this was, but the words caught in his throat.
He clicked his tongue instead, shifting barely an inch as though to feign annoyance. “Pathetic,” he murmured, “falling asleep on a demon.” His fingers twitched once, resting against the couch. “Truly brainless…”
And yet, his shoulder didn’t move.
Your head fit there a little too easily. His shirt’s fabric absorbed your warmth, and the faint scent of you mixed with the polished wood and incense that filled the room.
Muzan leaned back slowly, eyes narrowing. “I should throw you off,” he whispered to himself. “I should.”
He didn’t.
Minutes passed. The record looped back to the start, the same low melody drifting again through the room. He sat perfectly still, eyes fixed straight ahead, pretending to read the same paragraph for the fifth time.
Finally, his gaze dropped again, to you, still sound asleep, lips parted faintly, unaware of how close you were to danger.
“Utterly senseless,” he said quietly, but his voice had softened without his permission. “If I were anyone else, you’d be gone already.”
He studied you for another long, silent moment. Then his hand moved—slow, deliberate—brushing an escaped strand of hair from your face. He froze mid-gesture, realizing what he’d done, and drew back sharply, face blank again.
He exhaled through his nose, dismissive. “Ridiculous.”
But he didn’t push you off.
And when your body slumped slightly closer in your sleep, he stilled again—irritated, silent, unmoving. The kind of stillness that wasn’t restraint, but confusion.
In the dim light, Muzan’s expression didn’t change. His voice, low and almost bored, broke the quiet once more.
“…Stupid girl. If you only knew.”
✶⋆.˚ KOKUSHIBO
The moon hung high above the forest, bathing the clearing in pale silver light. The air was still—too still—and the faint hum of crickets only deepened the quiet that surrounded you both.
Kokushibo sat with his back against a tree, sword laid neatly beside him, the hem of his kimono unstained despite the battle that had ended not long before. You sat near him, exhaustion written across your face. The fight had taken more out of you than you’d admit.
He noticed, of course. He noticed everything.
“You should rest,” he said finally, his tone even and distant, like a command rather than concern.
“I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice lacked conviction.
He hummed lowly, not replying. Your defiance meant nothing to him since the weakness of humans was inevitable. You’d close your eyes eventually, and you did. It started with your posture softening, your head drooping slightly, until your shoulder brushed his sleeve.
Kokushibo’s sixth eye twitched faintly. He turned his head slowly, gaze settling on you—your breathing slow, steady, unguarded.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
“…How reckless,” he muttered under his breath, his tone biting yet quiet enough that it dissolved into the night. “To sleep beside a demon as if he were a mere man.”
He should have moved away. The idea crossed his mind—to remind you of your place, of the difference between what he was and what you were. But he didn’t.
His expression didn’t change, yet his body stilled in an almost imperceptible way, as though he were afraid that any movement might disturb you.
“Foolish creature,” he murmured, his deep voice barely above a whisper. “Do you not value your life at all?”
You shifted slightly in your sleep, and your head—as if guided by instinct—rested lightly against his shoulder.
His breath caught.
Kokushibo went utterly still, every muscle tensed, every sense heightened. He could feel the warmth of you through the layers of his uniform, the steady thrum of your pulse so close to his. He could end it in a blink—one strike, one thought—yet his hand didn’t move toward his blade.
Instead, it rested where it was, his fingers curling faintly against his knee.
“Pathetic,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “Utterly foolish.”
His words carried irritation, but there was something hollow behind them… a faint echo of something older, quieter.
He exhaled slowly, a sound caught somewhere between annoyance and something he refused to name.
You shifted again, unconsciously seeking more comfort, your body leaning closer until your head fit securely against his shoulder. He let out a quiet, low sound—not quite a sigh, not quite a growl—and stared down at you with all six eyes, silent.
Finally, after a long pause, he spoke, his voice steady but softer than before.
“If you were anyone else, I would have cut you down already.”
Hours passed. The night bled toward dawn, and the edges of his composure began to fray just slightly. He caught himself glancing down again and again, each time telling himself it was merely curiosity.
“Do not make a habit of this, girl.”
But his voice betrayed him—quiet, resigned, and faintly protective.
And though the night slipped away, he did not move until you stirred.
✶⋆.˚ DOUMA
The temple was quiet for once, a rare and eerie kind of silence that even Douma didn’t try to fill. The air was cool, scented faintly with lotus petals and incense, the faint moonlight slipping through the cracks in the sliding doors.
He sat on the floor, legs crossed, idly flipping a decorative fan open and closed as he hummed tunelessly to himself. You sat nearby, head resting against one hand, watching the way his movements never seemed to stop—always smiling, always moving, always performing.
“Y’know,” he said suddenly, flashing you a grin, “most people can’t stand being around me when it’s this quiet. Don’t tell me you’re the rare exception, hm?”
You chuckled softly, exhaustion in your tone. “You talk too much,” you murmured, the words slurring slightly from fatigue.
He pouted dramatically. “Too much? Me? Impossible.”
But before he could make another joke, you shifted closer—too tired to care about boundaries, your body leaning naturally toward the nearest warm presence. His fan paused mid-snap.
Your head rested lightly against his shoulder.
For the first time all evening, Douma went completely still. His smile faltered—not gone, but thinner, confused.
He looked down at you, blinking once. Then twice. “Oh? Ohhh, my, my~” he said softly, voice lilting. “What’s this now? Falling asleep on me? How bold.”
His tone was teasing, but quieter than usual. The kind of quiet that carried more meaning than he wanted to admit.
He tilted his head, watching your face. Your eyes were closed, your expression peaceful. You weren’t trembling. You weren’t afraid.
How strange.
“Humans are so silly,” he murmured, the smile returning, though softer now. “You must be exhausted to think I’m safe enough for this.”
He laughed under his breath—low, airy, almost tender. His hand lifted, hovering near your cheek. For a moment, it looked like he might move it away. Instead, his fingers brushed lightly through your hair, careful not to wake you.
“See, this is how I know you like me,” he whispered with mock delight. “You can’t help yourself.”
But even as he said it, his chest felt strange. It was too still, too tight. He looked down again, eyes narrowing faintly as if he didn’t recognize the feeling crawling beneath his ribs.
He could smell your heartbeat—warm, human, real—and it made something twist inside him that wasn’t hunger.
Your head shifted slightly, your body leaning more fully against him, and he exhaled sharply—a soft, amused sound that wasn’t really amusement at all.
“…You’ll ruin me if you keep doing things like this,” he whispered eventually, a half-smile ghosting across his lips. “And the worst part is, I think I’d let you.”
He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded, that same serene grin curling at his mouth, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He simply sat there, statue-still, letting your warmth press into his side. The demon who devoured love for centuries now holding something that felt alarmingly close to it.
✶⋆.˚ AKAZA
The night was cool and quiet, broken only by the faint crackle of the campfire you’d built together. You sat across from Akaza at first, watching the flames flicker orange and gold across his skin.
He’d been unusually calm tonight. No lectures about strength, no gritted teeth about weakness. Just stillness. You could almost pretend he wasn’t a demon at all—just a man sitting under the stars, lost in thought.
When you yawned softly, he glanced over. “Tired already?” he asked, voice low but steady.
You gave a small nod. “Didn’t realize how much the day took out of me…”
He grunted lightly, eyes turning back toward the fire. “Humans burn out fast,” he said, but there wasn’t mockery in it. More like quiet acceptance.
The silence stretched again. The warmth from the fire mixed with the chill of the night, and before long, you were fighting to keep your eyes open. Your posture slumped, your hands folded loosely in your lap.
He noticed. He noticed everything.
“Don’t,” he muttered softly. “If you fall asleep out here, you’ll—”
But before he could finish, you’d already leaned forward, your head finding its way against his shoulder.
He froze. Completely.
Every instinct told him to move—to pull away, to bark something sharp and cruel enough to break the moment. But he didn’t. His body, usually so quick to react, felt rooted to the spot.
He glanced down at you, his face unreadable, eyes flicking between your peaceful expression and the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“…You really are hopeless,” he whispered, his voice carrying the faintest tremor. “You’d fall asleep on a demon and call it peace.”
Your only answer was a quiet sigh as your fingers brushed lightly against his arm. The contact sent something strange through him—a pulse of warmth, discomfort, and something heavier that he couldn’t name.
He clenched his fists once, then relaxed them slowly. His gaze drifted toward the stars.
“I could kill you right now,” he said softly, almost as if he were reminding himself. “You’re defenseless… fragile.”
The words were hollow. Empty.
Because even as he said them, his body shifted slightly—just enough to make sure your head rested more comfortably against him. He didn’t even realize he’d done it.
He looked down again, his expression faintly pained. You were asleep, unaware, trusting him with the kind of innocence he’d long stopped believing in.
“Why…” he murmured, voice barely audible, “why do you make it so hard to hate you?”
The fire crackled softly, illuminating his face in waves of amber light. He could feel your warmth seeping through his arm, grounding him in a way nothing else did.
It was infuriating. And comforting.
He sighed quietly through his nose—a small, human sound that felt wrong coming from him. “Stupid girl,” he said, more to himself than to you. “You’re lucky I don’t have the heart to move you.”
He leaned back slightly, his head tilting toward the stars above. The faint sound of your breathing blended with the crackle of the flames, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, Akaza allowed himself to stop thinking about strength.
He just sat there… still, quiet, alive.
And when the fire finally dimmed to embers, he spoke once more, his voice so soft it was almost a prayer:
“…Don’t wake up yet.”
Because in that rare silence, with your head resting against him, Akaza could almost believe that peace was something he still deserved.
✶⋆.˚ SEKIDO
Thunder rolled low in the distance, mirroring the mood of the demon beside you.
Sekido sat stiffly on the engawa, arms crossed, the faint crackle of lightning flashing under his skin every few seconds. You’d long since stopped flinching at it. He was always angry—angry at the world, at his brothers, at himself—and tonight was no different.
You’d been sitting with him in silence, the rain whispering against the roof. You didn’t say anything; you knew words only made him explode faster. Instead, you just sat there, close enough that your knee brushed his.
It was late when your head finally drooped forward, the soft patter of rain and his distant grumbling lulling you to sleep.
When you slumped sideways, your head came to rest on his shoulder.
For a long moment, Sekido didn’t move. Lightning flickered across his temple, the air around him humming with restrained energy. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath.
You didn’t respond, of course. Your breathing had already gone soft and steady.
He clenched his jaw. “Tch… humans.” He said it like a curse, but his voice was quieter than usual.. almost uncertain.
The frown that crossed his skin softened, dimming until it faded completely. He turned his head just slightly, enough to see the calm on your face. You looked peaceful. Unbothered. Like the chaos that burned inside him didn’t exist.
No one ever touched him without fear. No one ever got this close.
Something twisted painfully in his chest. He let out a slow, frustrated exhale and looked away. “You’re insane,” he muttered, though his tone had lost its bite.
When a particularly cold gust swept through, you shivered against him. Instinct moved faster than thought—his arm shifted, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you closer.
The movement made him scowl. “...Don’t read into it,” he whispered to himself.
The rain kept falling, the thunder faded, and the light beneath his skin finally went still.
For once, there was no storm. Just the sound of your breathing against his chest, and a demon who didn’t know what to do with the sudden quiet.
✶⋆.˚ KARAKU
The forest was still, the only sounds were the hum of cicadas and the gentle rush of a nearby stream. You sat beside Karaku, both of you leaning against the wide trunk of a tree as twilight stretched across the sky. His fan rested lazily against his shoulder, the other hand draped casually over his knee.
He looked utterly at ease—like the chaos he was born from had finally quieted for a while.
“Humans always get tired so fast,” he muttered with a grin, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open. “You fall asleep and miss all the fun parts.”
You hummed sleepily, your head tipping slightly to the side until it found his shoulder. He froze for a second, blinking in surprise. The corners of his mouth twitched — a smug smirk threatening to form — but it softened instead.
“…You’re really doin’ it, huh? Just knockin’ out on a demon,” he whispered. His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful than teasing.
Karaku shifted, careful not to wake you, letting your head rest more comfortably against him. He studied your face for a long moment—the slow rise and fall of your chest, the relaxed expression that came only with trust. It was strange to him, this calm. He didn’t know what to do with it.
The night breeze brushed past, carrying the scent of wisteria somewhere far off. He tilted his head back, gazing up through the branches, and for once, didn’t move away.
“Tch. You’re lucky you’re cute when you sleep,” he muttered under his breath. “Guess I’ll sit still for a bit.”
He wasn’t used to stillness. He liked the rush of wind, the thrill of fighting, the noise—anything that made him feel alive. But right now, he felt it in a different way. Quieter. Stranger. His gaze flicked back down to you, your lashes fluttering slightly as you dreamed.
When your body unconsciously leaned closer, his jaw tightened, then relaxed. “Unbelievable,” he mumbled with a quiet laugh. “You really trust me, huh?”
Karaku’s teasing grin had faded into something unreadable. He exhaled softly, eyes half-lidded as he whispered to no one in particular,
“Don’t make me get used to this, human.”
And though his words carried that familiar edge of mockery, his hand finally settled lightly against your back—not in possession, but in quiet, wordless protection.
✶⋆.˚ UROGI
The night sky stretched endlessly above, a canvas of stars scattered across velvet black. The wind was strong at this height, tugging through your hair and ruffling the feathers along Urogi’s arms as he glided effortlessly above the treeline.
“Hold on tight, human!” he laughed, voice carrying over the rush of air. His laughter was wild and bright—like the kind of sound that could scare off nightmares.
You clung to him at first, heart pounding, but after what felt like hours of flying and laughter and teasing, the rush of adrenaline melted into warmth. The beat of his wings grew rhythmic, steady… comforting.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me up here,” he called, glancing down with a grin that showed sharp teeth. But when he looked again, your head had slumped gently against his shoulder, your breathing slow and peaceful.
His laughter died in his throat.
For a moment, he just hovered there—wings spread wide against the moonlight, the forest glimmering below—trying to process it. You, a fragile human, asleep in the arms of a demon that could drop you at any second. And yet, you looked completely at peace.
He blinked, then let out a low whistle. “You really are fearless, huh?”
Urogi shifted his grip, one clawed hand sliding to support your back, the other cupping the back of your head to keep you steady. His feathers brushed your cheek, tickling lightly as the wind grew cooler.
“Guess I’ll take it easy for once,” he muttered, wings angling downward. The air whooshed softer now, carrying the scent of earth and pine as he descended toward a quiet cliff overlooking a stream.
He landed lightly, talons scraping against stone, then folded his wings around you like a blanket—the rustle of feathers drowning out the rest of the world. You stirred a little, mumbling his name before settling again, your face unconsciously nuzzling itself against his neck.
The movement made something in his chest tighten.
“Tch… You really trust too easily,” he said, though there was no bite in his voice this time. Just quiet wonder.
He shifted, sitting down with you still nestled in his lap. The weight of you against him was warm, grounding, strange for someone who spent most of his time in the air. He rested his chin atop your head, eyes flicking up toward the moon.
“Not bad,” he murmured softly. “You’re kinda nice to hold, you know that?”
A faint smile curved at his lips as his wings instinctively curled tighter around you, shielding you from the cold.
✶⋆.˚ AIZETSU
The rain hadn’t stopped all evening. It wasn’t heavy—just a constant drizzle, whispering through the leaves and dripping down from the eaves of the small abandoned shrine you’d both taken shelter under.
You sat close to the dim light of a lantern, watching the tiny flame flicker, while Aizetsu leaned against one of the old wooden beams, his long sleeves damp at the edges, his expression unreadable as always.
He rarely spoke, and when he did, his voice was soft—quiet enough that you sometimes had to lean in to hear. But tonight, even the air between you seemed to understand silence was safer than words.
You shivered slightly, pulling your knees close. He noticed, of course. His eyes—deep and distant, like rain-soaked glass—shifted to you. Without a word, he moved closer, draping a blanket lightly over your shoulders.
“Humans catch cold so easily,” he murmured, his tone even, but there was something faintly troubled behind it. “You shouldn’t stay out in the rain like this.”
You smiled tiredly. “I’ll be okay.”
He stared at you for a long moment, as if wanting to argue, but the words never came. Instead, he sighed—a slow, almost weary exhale—and sat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours.
Aizetsu watched as your posture softened, your body tilting closer to him. He thought you were simply tired from the long day, but then your head gently rested against his arm.
He froze. His breath caught, not from fear, but confusion.
You were asleep. Just like that. Leaning against him as though the weight of the world didn’t matter, as though he wasn’t what he was.
For a moment, all he could do was stare. Rain pattered softly against the roof above. Your hair was damp, a few strands sticking to your cheek. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted a hand—fingers trembling slightly as he brushed them away.
“…You shouldn’t,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You shouldn’t trust something like me.”
His hand lingered near your face, hovering just above your skin. He wanted to move away, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked so peaceful. Not when your breathing was slow and steady, unafraid.
He lowered his gaze, eyes softening with something that almost looked like sorrow. “If only you knew how easily I could hurt you…”
But he didn’t move. He didn’t breathe too deeply, didn’t shift an inch—afraid that if he did, he might wake you, or worse, lose this fragile moment that felt too human to belong to him.
He tilted his head slightly, allowing your head to rest more comfortably against him, and whispered — barely, almost to himself.
“…I hope you dream of something better than this world.”
✶⋆.˚ ZOHAKUTEN
The night was tense with the crackle of distant thunder. Storm clouds rolled across the sky, heavy and dark, and every few moments lightning would flash, illuminating the temple ruins where you and Zohakuten had taken shelter.
He sat cross-legged beside one of the pillars, his expression sharp as ever, small hands gripping his weapons as if he were waiting for something to attack. His golden eyes flicked toward you every so often—suspicious, cautious, though he’d never admit it was out of concern.
You sat near him, damp from the rain, hugging your knees. “You really hate humans that much?” you asked softly, your voice carrying over the low rumble of thunder.
He shot you a glare, his tone clipped. “Don’t ask stupid questions. I just don’t like weak things getting in my way.”
You only smiled, unfazed, which somehow irritated him more. “Mhm. Sure.”
He scoffed and turned away, grumbling something about how infuriating humans could be. But then, when another flash of lightning tore across the sky, you flinched, barely, but he noticed.
His brows furrowed. “You’re scared of that? Pathetic.”
Still, his gaze lingered. He didn’t like the way you shivered when the thunder cracked again. He shifted closer, not enough for you to notice right away, but enough that his arm brushed lightly against yours. When the next flash came, your body instinctively leaned toward him.
Zohakuten froze. He opened his mouth—maybe to bark at you, maybe to tell you to move—but no words came. Your head had dropped gently against his shoulder, your body relaxing as sleep began to pull you under.
He stared down at you, disbelief flickering across his face. “Are you—? Unbelievable.”
You didn’t respond. Your breathing was already even, soft and calm, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.
Zohakuten gritted his teeth, cheeks faintly flushed. His jaw unclenched slowly, and with an annoyed sigh that didn’t match the softness in his movements, he shifted again, letting your head rest more comfortably against him.
“Ridiculous. You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, though it sounded more like an admission than an insult.
When your hand unconsciously brushed against his, his entire body went still. His heart—that strange, borrowed thing that still pulsed with Muzan’s essence—gave one quiet, unsteady beat.
Through the night, through the dripping rain and faint echo of thunder, the youngest of the clones sat in silence, glaring at the shadows, daring them to come closer… all while keeping a human girl tucked safely against his side.
“Pathetic… but I guess I don’t mind it.”
✶⋆.˚ GYUTARO
The district was quiet for once. The revelry, the lights, the laughter—all of it had faded into the late hours, leaving the alleys dim and empty. Moonlight spilled weakly across the rooftops, glinting against the faint scales of Gyutaro’s skin as he sat perched on a ledge, knees drawn up, arms crossed loosely over them.
You sat beside him, legs dangling over the edge, listening to the faint hum of the city below. It wasn’t often he let you sit this close. Most nights, he’d keep his distance, muttering something about “not wantin’ ya to get too comfortable.”
But tonight he was quiet. Almost thoughtful.
“You ain’t scared?” he asked finally, his voice a low rasp. “Sittin’ next to me like that. Humans usually don’t last that close.”
You smiled softly, glancing at him. “If I was scared, I wouldn’t be here.”
He scoffed and looked away, scratching absently at his arm, a habit he couldn’t quite shake. “Feh. You say that now.”
You didn’t hear him. Your head had dipped forward slightly, and a moment later, your shoulder brushed against his arm before you went still.
He stiffened instantly, eyes darting down. “Oi. Hey.” He nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Don’t fall asleep on me, ya dumb—”
But you didn’t move. Your breathing had already deepened, slow and steady, your head now resting gently against his arm.
He froze completely. His hands twitched at his side. For a long moment, he didn’t know what to do—didn’t know how to hold something so… gentle.
The world had always flinched from him. Women screamed at the sight of his face. Men laughed behind their hands. No one ever leaned in. No one ever trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him.
“…Idiot,” he muttered finally, but the word came out hoarse.
He shifted carefully, making sure you wouldn’t slip. His arm hovered awkwardly behind you for a moment before he let it rest, tentative but steady, against your back. Your body leaned instinctively closer, and he almost forgot how to breathe.
The city lights flickered below, and for the first time in years, Gyutaro didn’t feel ugly. He didn’t feel like a monster hiding in the dark.
He felt human.
His throat tightened, and his voice dropped to a whisper you weren’t meant to hear.
“Why’d you have to do that… fall asleep like I ain’t some freak…”
He swallowed hard, turning his head away. His hair fell over his eyes, hiding the expression that crossed his face, something raw and breaking.
“Guess I’ll let you stay there,” he muttered quietly. “Just this once.”
By the time the moon dipped low, Gyutaro sat unmoving, a quiet silhouette against the dying night—a demon who had never known peace, holding the one person who made him forget, if only for a few fleeting hours, what he was.
tags *ೃ༄ fluff, angst, arranged marriage (not kokushibo), yandere behavior, attempted SA (not kokushibo), canon typical violence, suggestive moments, misogyny, comfort, rationalization of traumatic events (reader), let me know if I missed anything!
summary *ೃ༄ making a friend of a demon was unthinkable ー unheard of, even. but when a particular demon saves your life and makes it a point to conversate with you every night.. well, it's a little hard not to become acquainted, isn't it?
note *ೃ༄ i really really hope you guys enjoy this.. >:) it's super long and i didn't mean to write that much but nonetheless, i look forward to writing for Koku & some of the Hashiras :).
masterlist *ೃ༄
The night he first saw you, it was snowing.
Snowflakes fell slowly, as if they were in limbo not able to make up their minds about falling or staying mid air; It was a breathtaking sight. Blankets of snow covered the once lush green grass that surrounded your home like a sea of white. The First Upper Moon did not usually venture out into the world unless absolutely necessary, so it was unbeknownst even to him why he found himself among the trees, his eyes focused on the woman who constantly came out to the engawa on the back side of her home in the middle of the night.
Kokushibo knew all too well, the naivety of human beings and you were no different. All humans by now, knew the dangers of staying out too late. Especially the women — So was this habit of yours due to your stupidity or did you just like to tempt death? Your reasoning was beyond him. Sooner or later, it would cost you your life; He was sure of it.
But he'd like to watch while you were still able to take in the breath of life — it did not come from a cynical place, not in the way Douma probably would regard it, but you intrigued him, weirdly enough.
After all, he was human once as well.
Tentatively, you reached a hand out into the air before you, catching snowflakes on your palm and watching them turn into water once they made contact with your warm skin. Winter had finally come. This season was your favorite for many reasons; The fluffy snow, the warm meals.. but most of all, you loved the long nights. When the crescent moon revealed itself to you, it was as if the spirit of tranquility took you over — as if nothing else but this moment mattered.
And maybe it was escapism.
Maybe it was just your way of coping with reality.
But the privilege of seeing the moon every night out on the engawa, with your legs dangling off the edge and your eyes glued to the sky, is something you would never change. The fact that you were betrothed to a landowner would not change this habit. If anything, your longing gaze would only increase evermore.
The cold bite of the wind felt like kisses on your cheeks, and the feeling of snowflakes melting in your tresses only brought you that sense of comfort you so desperately sought out in these long nights. Often times, you left the shoji door open because you wanted to keep these nights close to your heart like a secret. Like a treasure only you knew of. You inhaled slowly with your eyes closed, the cold air entering your lungs and exiting your mouth in visible warm puffs of air.
Fabric brushes against wood but it isn't yours. It's close, but not you — you know it is not you because of the fact that you're sitting completely still in this silent night. You wonder then if maybe it was a good idea to be out tonight. Then again, you should have never felt this comfortable to be out on your own at night, everyone knew these were the hours in which demons were most active..
But would dying at the hands of a demon really be that damning when you were destined to live a subservient empty life anyway?
The sound grew closer, only this time it was accompanied by heaving and what sounded like laughing. You dared not open your eyes, but you didn't run either. If this was your fate, you would accept it with a warm embrace. This decision was a split second decision, one you regretted the moment you opened your eyes to reveal the grotesque visage of a demon. It's horns and multiple eyes should have made you scream and cry, but not even a peep escaped your lips.
And before you could even register what happened, the demon was disintegrating in a flash, only for the image of a tall man with a purple and black kimono, his black hakama draped over him and a katana at his side, to grace your vision. His long tresses obstructed his face from you, but you weren't looking too hard anyway, if anything you were intrigued as to how and why you were saved by this stranger.
How had he managed to sneak onto the grounds of your home without you noticing?
Unfortunately, before you could ask this man anything, his disappeared within seconds as well, leaving nothing but the memory of him as a trace that he was ever there. His presence left you with questions that ran rampant in your mind like mice in an abandoned home. That night, you left the engawa with more confusion than the solace you'd come to seek out in the quiet of the night.
"Father.. Is this marriage really necessary?"
"Yes. We've already talked about this, _______. It is final." The firm tone of your fathers voice was absolute. As his eldest daughter, this was your fate: To be married off to a wealthy landowner, therefore ensuring that you would live out a comfortable future. Truthfully, you family wasn't the wealthiest but you were more well off than the beggars in the streets. If anything, this marriage was a miracle.
It felt more like a curse though.
With a deep breath, you dismissed yourself from your fathers presence and headed to your room. Your mother did not utter a word to you, they all — including your younger sister — knew you were upset about the marriage. However, it seemed that they cared more about the benefits of your marriage than the way you felt about it. You suppose maybe you should too; You were only helping your family after all. It would be selfish to keep the fortune that awaited you from them, wouldn't it?
Your pushed open the shoji door and entered your room with quiet footsteps. Right now, all you needed was a distraction; You set up a canvas on the side of your wall, uncaring about the paint that would surely get everywhere. You wouldn't be living here for much longer anyway — What's a little paint spillage?
As you scattered paint over the blank canvas like the skilled painter you had become, your mind became clouded with thoughts of the day you met your now fiancé. The day had begun as any other; With your sister helping you carry the wagon that held your supplies into the village square, where tourists and newlyweds would often frequent. Here, you sold paintings fairly quickly which meant good business for your family. It was a simple occupation but it made a wonderful pastime, especially since you enjoyed the work so much.
Seeing smiles on the faces of couples and children made you happy, you didn't need anything else. Yet to your dismay, you caught the eye of a watchful wealthy man. To any other woman, it would have been the greatest thing that had ever happened to them; It would have been a fulfilling experience.
But you didn't need to be filled with anything — You were whole and happy.
But reality doesn't stop just because you're happy.
"Did you paint those yourself?"
Questions about your paintings always made you happy, so you smiled. "I did, actually. Would you like a custom painting? Maybe one for your wife?" This was a seller's question — not to be mistaken for someone who's interested in getting to know him. Unfortunately for you, this man did not distinguish between the two.
He laughs and dismisses your question. "I am unmarried. I have yet to find a suitable wife."
"I see. Maybe I could paint you something suited to your tastes instead?" You moved on quickly. Not because you were rude, but because this man's personal life was not of your concern.
But he cared not. "Suitable to my tastes.." he hums, "Then how about a self portrait?"
You chuckle, pulling out a blank canvas and adjusting it onto the easel. "Of yourself? That's quite a high self-esteem you've got."
He laughs at your question, like there's something you don't understand. "No, not of me."
"Then, who?"
"You."
It takes you a second to register the words this man has unashamedly spoken to you. And once it does, this feeling of disgust is born in the depths of your stomach. Was it supposed to be romantic? Because you could assure him that it wasn't.
You laugh awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. "Sorry. I don't do self portraits." Under the sleeves of your kimono, your fingernails dig crescent moons into your skin. Who was this stranger to make advances towards you? The man had sleek black hair that draped behind his back freely and a neat thin mustache that adorned the space above his upper lip. He wore linens of exquisite manufacturing and smelled clean.
From the moment this man approached your stand, you should have known he was not here with intentions you would agree with.
"Marry me," you repeat the words he spoke to you a week ago and scoffed at your impending marriage to him. You were angry, needless to say. Angry because all it took was a word about his status to your father to get him to agree to marrying you off. Angry because you knew you would not be seen as anything more than a decoration beside this man. Angry because you knew you should feel at least some form of gratitude at the fact that such a man looked upon you.
Your breaths began to grow ragged and your features distorted with anger. the black paint muddled in with the red you'd laid down prior. It looked like a bloody explosion, what you had painted. When the brush touched the canvas, you did not have a clear plan, but just looking at it you could tell it was a reflection of your emotions. Overcome with an urge to dispose of it, you got up from your place on the tatami mat and hauled the painting outside.
The afternoon had long since morphed into night and snow was falling again. It should have been calming but your anger had you clenching your jaw as your nails ripped through the canvas. Out on the engawa, you allowed angry hot tears to stream down your cheeks as you tore the piece to shreds. Your hands were stained from the paint but all you cared about was ripping every last piece of canvas off the wood it was attached to.
In the midst of your tantrum, you heard once again the sound from yesterday as clear as day: Fabric rustling against wood. "Who's there?" You called out. Could it be the man from two days ago? The one who practically saved your life without so much as a word? You hated this silence that you shared with an unknown stranger. You thought for a moment that it might be your soon to be husband but immediately shook the thought away from your mind — It seemed impossible, a man like him would not get his hands dirty even if it was for his future wife.
"You should know better than to stay out this late."
The deep voice of this stranger immediately ruled out the possibility of it being your fiancé, but it also confirmed the fact that you were being watched. Was he.. Human? Based off of what you had seen of him the last time- Wait, was he even the same stranger?
"Why did you save me?" you asked out into the open.
It was silent for a moment. "I did not feel like witnessing your death." You scoff at his words. It was a shallow and self-serving reason. Then again, you don't know what you expected. Your life wasn't some slow-burn, romance novel — this was reality.
"My apologies, I didn't know my death was such an inconvenience." Your tone is laced with sarcasm while you focus your eyes on the paint staining your arm. It hardened by now which allowed you to chip it off. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Why did you ruin that painting of yours?"
"Answer my question and I'll answer yours."
Kokushibo holds back the desire to chuckle. "Do you really want the answer to that, Human?" He wondered how you'd look upon realizing the man you spoke to wasn't a human himself. It seemed that you were aware enough to pick up on the words he used and the expression of realization washing over you was not lost on him; It was amusing. What would you do next?
".. I do." You answer. If you knew he was a demon, you weren't letting him know it explicitly.
"Since the beginning of the previous month."
You should have been afraid, like anyone else would have been if they knew they were speaking to a demon. Instead, you leaned your back against the wooden pillar beside you as if this was normal. "You don't have anything better to do?"
"That does not sound like an answer to the question I asked." He reminded.
"Oh. ..The painting." your eyes drifted back to the ruined canvas at your feet. "I didn't like it."
"That is the reason for which you tore it so viciously?"
You roll your eyes, "Please, it's not like it was a masterpiece of some sort. It was just a painting I hated."
"You do that to all the paintings you dislike?"
"Why do you ask so many questions? I should be asking you why you're even here." you looked towards the direction of his voice and wondered what he looked like. Would he be scary? Deformed like most demons are?
"You should be. However, something tells me you do not care to know that information."
"How would you know?"
"Need I remind you of the fact that I have been observing you?"
"Oh." You let out a humorless chuckle, "That."
There was an awkward silence between the two of you after that, with neither of you saying anything. Despite that silence though, you could still feel him there. For some reason his silent presence was more intimidating than when he spoke to you. You sigh and stand up, taking the shreds of your painting inside your room. It was getting late and you were due for a dinner with your fiancé tomorrow. And for that, you'd need all the rest you could get.
But before sliding your door closed, you looked back in the direction of the trees, where you had heard the demon's voice. "What's your name?"
Minutes passed and you began to wonder if he was still even there. Just before you slid your door completely closed, you heard his response.
"Kokushibo."
Onigiri and fish would have satisfied you on any other day. Rice balls tasted good when you made them for yourself as a snack before painting, it was a nostalgic type of food — one of your favorites, actually. Fish was savory and filled you during dinnertime with your family; When all of you shared conversations about your younger sister's new friend down the road, how your father had been able to hire more young men to work in his fields..
But today, the food and the conversation made you sick.
Not in the 'there was something wrong with it' type of sick, but the type of sickness that comes with faking enjoyment for the benefit of those at the table. Dinner was supposed to be going well. After all, in two months time, you'd be wed to the man you sat beside. So you should at least try and get to know him right?
Wrong.
You maintained a performative smile and spoke to him in a polite voice out of respect for your parents. You knew they only wanted the best for you, the least you could do was accept this miracle you'd been handed. "Is the food not to your liking, my Flower?" You resisted the urge to wince at the nickname he used. He would have been a nice man had he not made his intentions with you so blatant.
He didn't even court you like a man should; Jinsei needed only ask your mother and father for their blessing, which they gave freely after hearing of his status as a landowner.
"It's perfect, Jinsei. Thank you."
Jinsei's mother, Aiha, was a woman with hair as black as her sons long tresses were tied up in a neat bun which was held together by a golden hairpin. Her face was pristine and smooth with minimal wrinkles around her eyes. Her eyes were piercing blues that remained on you for the entire dinner. "You've found yourself a polite woman, Son. I'm grateful your search has been successful."
Jinsei smiles at his mother, his hand snaking around your waist comfortably and bringing you close to him as if to show you off like a decorative painting, "As am I. You should see her paintings, mother. They're absolutely exquisite; Her passion for artistry is what drew me in — It was like a dream when I laid my eyes upon her for the first time." He looks down at you tenderly with those blue eyes that resembled his mother's.
You part from him discreetly, feigning a cough as if something got stuck in your throat just to be released from his hold.
Aiha smiles at her son, "I can only imagine how wonderful it was to fall for such a beautiful woman." She then turns to you, a cup of green tea resting in her hands. "So, tell me, my daughter-in-law, why did you agree to his proposal?"
For my mother and father. "To be truthful, Miss Hirusanji, His persistence ultimately drew me in." You smile and feign a look of longing at your fiancé. "I want to make him as happy as he makes me."
"They're adorable, aren't they?" Your mother gushes to your father who only looks at the two of you with a warm gaze. Seriously, you couldn't believe that they were buying this act of yours. It made you feel disgusted to be someone you weren't in front of everyone sitting at this table. But so was the price of a comfortable future, was it not?
The dinner continued with both your family and the Hirusanji family getting to know each other. Both of your mothers seemed to be the most content about this marriage so you guessed that the deal was pretty much sealed. There was no way out of it no matter how much you tried to ask them about it.
When you arrived home, you were the first to break the silence.
"Can you both explain to me why this marriage is necessary?"
Your father sighs tiredly and your mother turns to hold your hands. "Honey, we want to see you live your life comfortably with a nice man. Your father and I don't want to see you struggle with our burdens, it would be much more-"
You took your hands from her, "But I don't care about any of that..! I don't mind sharing in your struggle and helping the two of you like I have been my entire life!"
"Helping me work the fields isn't the life I want for my daughter!" Your father erupted. "Maybe you fail to see it now, but ten years from now you'll be thankful for the man you'll soon have at your side. I can guarantee it."
Tears spilled down your cheeks, "Why do you disregard what I want for my own life? Has it not ever occurred to you that perhaps I find fulfillment in the life I already lead?"
"You're foolish if you believe that this life of struggle is better than the life of comfort that is being offered to you. Have you no gratitude? We accepted his proposal because we love you."
"If you loved me, you wouldn't wed me to a man I know nothing about; A man whom I do not love." you clarified, looking into your fathers eyes with disdain in them.
"Even if you don't love him now, dear.. You can learn to love him, can't you? He's a generous man and you'll be more than well off with him. Think about the future, this is a good thing." Your mother tries to ease the tension but you can't find it in you to capitulate. You were never an easy daughter and you wouldn't begin being one now.
You scoff and storm off into your room without a word. You had nothing to say to them, nothing that would change their minds about it anyway.
.
.
.
You sat out in the engawa, watching the sun set and waiting for the moon to arrive.
This marriage.. It wasn't at all what you wanted. Your heart was dedicated to your artistry, your creativity and your ability to make others happy with it. You found happiness in the simple art of expression. If you were to marry, all of your achievements would be attributed to your husband — This was a fact. Jinsei was a decent man and yes, he was blessed with riches, but that alone did not mean you would allow him to take your individuality in exchange for money — It wasn't who you were.
After about an hour of waiting for the moon to come down, you decided to quickly venture out and retrieve two apples as a snack. You cut them as you sat on the engawa, leaning on the pillar while you separated the apple skins from flesh. A few minutes later and you heard the familiar sound of fabric against wood.
Without looking upwards, you spoke, "Kokushibo?"
A minute passes, "_______."
"Wonderful night we're having, huh?"
"Agreed."
You cut a slice of apple and take a bite of it. "I'm getting married in a month."
".. Are you?"
You nod, despite not knowing if he can even see you. Somehow, you think he does. "Yup, so you'll have to find somebody else to stalk."
"I was not stalking you."
You chuckle, "Right, you 'observe'." Like that's any different.
Kokushibo, despite not being quite the talkative man, he sure likes hearing you speak. Or at least, that's what you think since he hasn't stated his actual reason for being here constantly now for two nights in a row — that and he hasn't told you to shut up yet.
"You're a demon, right?"
"Yes."
"Why haven't you eaten me yet?"
"That's a gruesome question for a bride-to-be."
You frown, "Don't remind me."
He says nothing but notes your disdain towards the mention of your impending marriage.
"Why do you make it a habit to watch me?"
"Ask me anything else." Kokushibo says, as if he was annoyed by the type of questions you were asking; The type that assumed a relationship between he and you.
The skin of the apple falls onto the dish you laid out while you cut through the second apple, "Tell me something about yourself."
"Why should I do that?"
"I'm not keen on conversing with strangers."
"It would be in your best interest to think of me as nothing but a stranger. I am a demon after all."
His words caused the light to momentarily leave your eyes, your expression darkening slightly. "You know, I'm sick of people telling me what's in my best interest." In your anger, you fail to notice the sharp end of the knife cutting through the flesh of the skin and slicing a shallow cut into your thumb. You wince at first but instead of going to wrap it up, you simply stuff the digit into your mouth and lick it clean. "It's annoying, having people tell me what I should do, as if I'm incapable of making good decisions for myself."
Kokushibo smells your blood from his place hidden in the trees. It's a sweet aroma, he notes. "Is that why you're unsatisfied with the marriage?" He asks, his eyes narrowing at you. He can see you clearly even as the snow falls outside.
"I'm more than unsatisfied. I'm angry," you admit, looking at your thumb to check if the bleeding stopped. ".. The painting you asked about yesterday — the one I destroyed .. I ripped it up because I was angry." At this point, Kokushibo was just letting you air out your emotions to him. He wasn't speaking back to you but instead was listening to you.. and it made you a little relieved to think about it, even if he was a man-eating demon.
"..My whole life, I've done nothing but support my parents, even when they struggled. I helped mother cook and clean, I've taken care of my sister when mother and father couldn't — I've helped make money for our family.. My entire life, I've asked for nothing in return because I was happy doing it." Your throat closes up and you feel tears sting your eyes. "I was happy with painting and seeing the smiles on the people that would buy them; I was happy at home.." you sob, wiping your tears hastily. Desperate to get rid of them, "-and I'm tired of crying about it so much when I know there's nothing else I can do about it..!" Frustrated sobs wrack through your body and you find it hard to stop once you've already started.
You seldom cried in front of people, even your own family. It was strange that you felt so comfortable doing it in front of a demon who could definitely eat you for lunch — or dinner for that matter.
Kokushibo is not really a people person, so you can guess why the demon just watched you as you cried, not really knowing what to do. He wasn't sure what you'd do if you actually saw him — not that you hadn't already, but that was different. "I'm assuming your parents were not receptive to your feelings on the matter."
"You assume correctly.." you tell him, your sobs turning to sniffles and the skin around your eyes was no doubt raw from you rubbing them with your kimono. After a moment, you begin to laugh which confuses the demon that's still watching you from afar.
"Why are you laughing?"
You're still giggling through your sniffles when you explain, "Sorry, it's just.. It's a little funny that I'm telling all of this to you.. You could kill me at any moment and yet I'm talking your ear off about my marriage."
"I will not kill you."
You smile slightly in the direction of his voice. "I'm not afraid of that happening.. You don't seem to want to hurt me."
Kokushibo scoffs, "Do you normally make it a point to converse with demons?"
"No, not usually. Though I guess I probably shouldn't make it a habit, huh?"
"Either you're incredibly naive, or you've no self-preservation skills. Or both." Kokushibo points out, as if he's disappointed.
Your next words, however, wipe that look of disapproval off of his face.
"I don't think I have to worry about self-preservation when I've got you watching over me, Kokushibo."
For the next three and a half weeks, your talks with Kokushibo persisted.
Late into the night, you'd be talking with the demon well into the hours of the morning. The cloudy skies kept him from falling victim to the sun but still, you did not manage to catch a glimpse of what he looked like. Despite that, you grew to have a sort of warm feeling for the man that would listen to you rant about quite literally anything.
You could be complaining about something that happened during the day or explaining a new painting technique you learned and he'd be willing to listen every time. He didn't even stop you when you spoke of your dates with your fiancé — not that you expected him to feel some type of way about such things, it's not like he could feel things like that, you think.
"Jinsei isn't a bad guy, at least, from what I've seen so far.. But I still don't think I would like to marry him. You know?" Currently, you were in the backyard of your home, painting on the canvas positioned on an easel you'd set up before sunset. You wanted to paint the sky at night because the moon would be full tonight.
"The ceremony is in three days.."
Your brush halts, hovering over the canvas and you sigh. ".. I know."
"How.. Are you feeling?" Kokushibo would have never asked this question before, but the time he's spent with you reminded him of his human habits — habits he had long forgotten even existed. It was strange, to feel this way about you; He wasn't sure he would feel things like this after he became a demon. But it seemed that becoming a supernatural being did not save him from feeling the warmth of passion or the sting of envy — in fact, it amplified those pesky feelings of his.
Maybe that's why he had gotten so comfortable asking you such frivolous questions.
".. I don't know." your voice was quiet, but he heard you still. "My heart is heavy.." you let out a tired sigh, "Kokushibo?" You set your supplies down on the small table and turn in the direction of his voice, where he always is.
"Hm?"
He watches you turn around, noticing the conflicted look on your face. "Ca.. Can I see you?"
The question catches him off guard. It's understandable that after about two months of constant talking, you'd want to see him — but he didn't think about what he would do once you actually asked him. How would you react? I mean, it's not like you didn't know he was a demon but.. He mentally groans at his hesitation. Was he.. nervous?
Impossible.
The soft sound of rustling leaves and the all-too-familiar sound of fabric against wood travels to your ears and you find your heart beating a little faster. The cold night air kept your hards from getting clammy but that didn't stop you from getting goosebumps once he appeared before you. Your gaze traveled from his black hakama and up, up, up, to the visage of the man you'd grown to be more than acquainted with for the past two months.
His eyes — he had six of them, three on each side — were a striking yellow with kanji written over the two middle ones; His sclera was the color of a vibrant crimson rose. His skin was pale and looked smooth, you almost felt compelled to reach out and touch it. You were quick to notice the scarring on his forehead which trailed down until his lower sets of eyes and continued on his right side down to his neck where it disappeared.
His long hair and the purple kimono he wore you remembered from the day you first saw him. The more you took him in, the less nervous you became. He looked awfully human, then again, the only other demon you ever saw was the one he struck down. Still.. it brought a sort of warmth to know he was real.
That you hadn't gone crazy and started talking to random voices hidden in the wind.
".. Hi." you pause, "Wait, that was awkward- I mean.. um, It's nice to finally meet you..?" The statement came out as a question, you could thank your lack of people skills for that.
He resists the urge to laugh at your awkwardness. It was kind of adorable, the way you were so nervous about the ordeal — It seemed as if you'd forgotten what the two of you were talking about before you asked to see him.
"Did you have a goal when you asked to see me?"
His voice was deep. Not that you didn't already know, but that didn't stop it from leaving goosebumps on your skin. Hearing it this close was.. weird.
"Oh, that.." you gathered yourself and avoided his gaze, "I guess I.. just wanted to see you before, you know, before I get married."
".. I see." It was strange to feel so.. protective over you — perhaps it was because you were a fragile human.
"Will you come see me, even after I'm married..?" It was your way of asking if he would leave you. To want to be close to a demon was not something you ever thought could happen, much less to you.
But Kokushibo was kind.
He listened to you ramble on about your days: About your human affairs. He lent you an ear when feelings concerning your marriage got especially hard to deal with on your own. Every night, without fail, if you called out to him — he would always respond. He would always be there.
"Why would that matter to me?" Kokushibo asked. It made your heart flutter.
You look up at him with a surprised look, "I.. I won't be living here anymore, that's why I.."
He doesn't smile, doesn't chuckle — But even then, his words manage to warm the edges of your soul.
"I shall follow you wherever you go, no matter the place."
It should've been creepy. Should've scared you off and intimidated you knowing that this demon would not leave you alone even if you were to leave the home town he met you in. For Kokushibo, the only constant place he ever 'lived' in was Muzan's castle. Though you're comparing him to a regular human man, which made Kokushibo do away with the confusion he initially felt upon hearing your question.
Maybe a human man would have felt some sort of pain upon the prospect of knowing you would be wed and soon leave this place, but to a demon? Borders such as those did not apply. It would be erroneous on your part to think that rules applying to men of your world would apply to a supernatural being such as he.
Nonetheless, Kokushibo did not tell you so and instead relished in the warmth radiating from your cheeks. You were so far away, but he could feel it regardless of that fact.
You sigh in relief and reach out to take his cold hand in your warmer ones. You then proceeded to hold it to your chest, as if it was some sacred treasure.
"Thank you, Kokushibo. I'm happy to have met you."
In last two nights leading up to your wedding, Kokushibo made it a point to sit beside you on the engawa instead of conversating with you from afar like he had been doing for the past two months. Tonight, the night before your wedding, you were all kinds of nervous and Kokushibo unfortunately was the witness to your endless (and very nonsensical) worries.
"What if I trip on my kimono and fall in front of everyone during the ceremony? Or worse, what if I spill sake during the San-San-Kudo??" You let out a groan and curl into yourself, your knees pressed against to your chest as your head leaned on Kokushibo's shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It shouldn't be.
"Everything will go accordingly." He tells you, his voice confident like you're not clumsy in front of the public on a daily basis. "I am sure of it."
"You don't know that! I could say the wrong thing or- or embarrass myself in front of his entire family!" Your worried eyes shut at the thought of messing up and you don't know it, but Kokushibo thinks its adorable how much you care about a wedding you didn't even want.
"Your fears are irrational."
"Pleaase, keep stating the obvious, Koku."
The nickname causes him to turn and look down at you, who isn't looking at him but instead at the snow. "Koku?"
You nod, "Yeah. It's a cute nickname, don't you think?"
"Cute?" This draws him further into the depths of confusion. Kokushibo was not 'cute', he was a man-eating demon that has killed thousands. The blood of innocents are on his hands and yet you dare equate a ruthless, powerful being like him to the softest adjective in your vocabulary? It should insult him to be seen in such a childish way by you.
Key word: should.
However, in the time he's taken to observe you and remain in your presence, he realizes that there are many things that should be, that aren't. Like the way you so casually hold his hand when you sneak out of your family home, eager to walk with him through empty forest trails. Or when you ask to braid his hair during his last few nightly visits like he isn't an arbiter of destruction.
You should be scared of the man you're next to and yet, instead of fearing him, you lean your head on his shoulder and snake your arm around his as if he's a pillow of some sort.
"I am not cute." Kokushibo says simply. It's a fact.
You look up at him, leaning up to place your chin on his shoulder; Your faces too close to one another. Closer than a demon and a human should ever be. Your scent was sweet; Like that of Moon Cake. "You are cute, you're just in denial."
"Denial? It's an irrefutable fact. I have killed thousands and even demons fear my name. You would be a foolish woman to think of me as anything other than what I am."
"Then I guess I'm a foolish woman." you smirk, eyes locked with his as if everything else melted away and it was just the two of you. A solid minute passes but it feels like a lifetime; Until Kokushibo clears his throat and begins to speak again.
"..Speaking of foolishness.." He reaches into his side, where is Katana would usually lay; Except his Katana is at his side on the floor, so it must be something else. Your eyes widen when he presents you with a fan. A Sensu fan to be exact. "I know you would rather not think of it, but.. I acquired this for you. Think of it as a wedding gift."
Your eyes widened while you took it into your hands, your hold delicate as if it would break if you applied any more pressure. "Kokushibo.. This is so thoughtful, I- ..Thank you..!" You're still holding the fan when you reach up to envelop him in your embrace. Your arms feel soft and delicate around him; Instinctively, one of his palms immediately goes flat on the floor behind him to hold him up so he wont fall from the impact of your embrace, his other snakes around your middle and holds you close to him.
You're draped over him like a blanket, hot tears falling from your eyes and a bright smile on your face like he's just given you the world. You feel so freely around him; It makes him feel almost as if he's human again, weirdly enough.
After a moment, you pull yourself off and wipe your tears, "Sorry, I didn't mean to cry all over you, it's just.. I don't know. ..I feel happy when I'm with you.. Safe." You're not looking at him anymore but there's an evident warmth on your cheeks. You seem like you're glowing, like the light of a star enveloped by night.. and it's then that he realizes the weight of what it meant for you to marry.
You would inherit the role of a dutiful wife; You would by unhappy, surely. Kokushibo knew this because you hated doing what others told you to, even if you ended up succumbing to expectations out of the kindness of your own heart. You hated being someone you weren't and this marriage would go against every aspect of your core being.
And yet, he could not tell you to say no.
He wouldn't because it was not who he was.
Yes, he was powerful and ruthless; A force to be reckoned with — but he would never violate your wishes in exchange for his own pleasure unless you allowed him that selfishness. He respected you too much to whisk you away and claim you for himself without your consent.
"You should get some rest." Kokushibo says, his tone quiet and his voice softer than usual.
You shook your head softly, looking at the fan and opening it to admire it. "I don't want tonight to end."
His hand squeezes the fabric on your waist ever so slightly, you would have missed it if you weren't hyper-aware of your surroundings when you were with him. It makes the heat rush to your face and shivers run down your spine in a way you haven't experienced before.
Somehow, in the months you've known Kokushibo, he's made you feel things not even your fiancé manages to make you feel.
Could it be possible to have feelings for a demon?
No.. that would be unheard of.
Time passes and you somehow end up falling asleep on his shoulder, curling into him as if he'd disappear if you let go. Kokushibo must have tucked you in because when you awoke, your shoji door was closed, you were tucked into your futon with the Sensu fan at your side.
"You look so beautiful, dear! Jinsei will be delighted to see you." Your mother looked upon your face full of makeup; You were already dressed in your Shiro-muku Kimono and ready for the ceremony — at least in the physical sense. Mentally, you were absent and actively trying not to think about the whole thing at all.
This was for your family.
"I'm sure he will be." You smile slightly at your mother.
She begins to tear up and you only sigh, "Mother, please. It's not that big of a deal.."
"'Not that big of a deal'? My eldest is getting married!" Your mother smiles and wipes her tears, "I'm happy for you, my daughter. Even if this wasn't your wish.. I pray you two will find love in one another and stay together for many years." Her hands come up to caress your face. You want to cry but you can't — and not because you're happy, but because you're mourning the death of your freedom.
"I hope so too.." you lie, your voice quiet.
.
.
.
".. My dear wife, I vow to make you happy all the days of your life. I will make sure you lack nothing and that your days are filled with nothing but love, peace and happiness. I pray to the gods that we may live in harmony and love for this year and the years to come. _______, you are the most beautiful woman I .."
Your now-husband Jinseo's vows should have made you fill with warmth and appreciation — yet all you could think about was whether or not you would see Kokushibo tonight.
It was shameful, you know, but you couldn't help it!
Not when you still felt the delicacy of his hand on your waist, or the soft kiss of his breath on your skin, or the Sensu fan he had given you before — one with the design of purple orchids and white roses. The gods would surely punish you for thinking of another man at your own wedding, there was no way you'd be forgiven for it. But it's not as if you wanted this wedding anyway so maybe punishment isn't so bad.
After the San-San-Kudo, the wedding vows, and other rituals were completed, you left with Jinsei — Now your husband — to the new place where you would now reside. When the two of you arrived in a carriage pulled by horses, you were bewildered. You had never seen a vehicle such as that and Jinsei's home was also different to your own. It was more modern and less familiar to you. Gone were the shoji doors and tatami mats you were so used to — Yes, this place felt completely foreign to you.
It was even worse when you were led into a room, your hand being held by your husband. "I'm sure you're tired," Jinseo began, "This is the bathroom, the housekeeper has laid out a change of clothes for you, my flower."
Your brows knitted together. All of this was so confusing and new; The place you lived in now was near a bustling city that seemed to glow even at night. The scent of nature and vegetation was replaced by strong sweet smells and other things you couldn't even discern. It had not even been a single day and you were already feeling that familiar pit in your stomach from such a strange environment.
Would Kokushibo even manage to find you?
With a weary sigh and a heavy heart, you shed your wedding kimono and took the floral yukata in your hands. It was pink and adorned in flowers; It would have been beautiful under different circumstances. Regardless of your feelings, you continued on and soon emerged from the bathroom. You tried to find your room, but before then you were busy getting lost in every corridor of this two-story house. There were many rooms, all had already been furnished but everything seemed new.
"Flower!" Jinseo called out to you with a smile on his face. When he stood before you, he cupped your cheek, "Did you get lost?"
"This house is different from the one I lived in…" you explained. Jinsei laughs and his thumb caresses the skin of your cheek back and forth — You wished to pull back but didn't.
His hand falls from your face to grab your own, "Ah, I see. I can show you everything tomorrow, yes? You must be tired. Why don't we get some rest, hm?"
You nod and follow him, your wedding clothes still in your arms while he leads you down a corridor. When he opens the door, it leads to an ostentatious room; It's huge — bigger than the room you had back home — there was a balcony near the bed and wait .. there's only one bed.
"We- uh .. we'll sleep together ..?" You hated how meek your voice sounded.
"Don't be shy my flower," Jinsei coos, holding your hand and leading you into the room. "You'll get used to it soon enough." Yes, it had gone over your head that because he was now your husband, you would probably have to be more intimate, but that wasn't your concern upon seeing the king-sized bed.
How were you supposed to speak to Kokushibo if he was here with you all the time?
You'd have to be careful, it seemed.
Soon enough, you found yourself tucked away in the large bed with an extremely handsy man at your side. His arms enveloped you, like a snake choking its prey. Not at all like when Kokushibo held you yesterday. Really, you shouldn't be comparing your demon .. friend, to your human husband, but still.
At every turn, it seemed that Kokushibo stood leagues above your husband. Maybe it was because you weren't as comfortable with your husband as you were with Kokushibo. Dates with Jinsei were always.. ordinary. It felt more like a routine than a romantic date between two people. No matter how many flowers he bought you, or how many pieces of expensive jewelry he could give you, not one of those gifts compared to the Sensu fan that Kokushibo gifted you.
Before you could think more about Kokushibo's role in your heart life, you heard a sound near by the window — the balcony.
Curiously, you turned and carefully lifted your husband's arm off of your stomach. Jinsei seemed to be a heavy sleeper, so he couldn't hear the sound you had heard seconds before. In the span of a few minutes, you were free from his grasp and you slowly walked to the doors leading out to the balcony. Once you twisted the knob and pushed forward, you looked around the area to see.. nothing.
You searched around for something that could have made the noise but it was only until the door closed behind you that you looked behind you.
And there, underneath the moonlight, you were met with Kokushibo's tall figure looming over you.
Excitedly, you lunged upward to embrace him, your arms around his middle with your cheek pressed against his chest. "I didn't think you'd find me..!" You were whispering so as to not wake up your husband.
"You underestimate me." Kokushibo states, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His fingers were cold and you could feel his nails grazing your skin but it brought you immense comfort. "There is nowhere you could go that I would not find you."
You smile and hug him tighter, as if you're afraid he'll disappear if you let go. In the blink of an eye, Kokushibo's arm circles around your waist and presses you close to him to jump off of the balcony. You let out a squeal once you realize what's happening, "Kokushibo! What are you doing?!" You hold him tight, afraid he might drop you as he jumps from building to building. Your adrenaline spikes up and you don't know whether to feel excited or scared — you think both maybe.
"I won't drop you."
"You better not!" You yelp, burying your face into the fabric of his kimono.
"Do you distrust me that much?" he chuckles to himself, not noticing the way your gaze grows warm from hearing the sound of his laugh. It's the first time you've heard it. It distracts you so much that you forget to respond to him until he looks down at your starstruck expression. "What is it?"
You blink and look away, your cheeks feeling warm. "You laughed.."
"…" Kokushibo remains silent; He's bashful that you pointed it out — That you noticed, but he doesn't show it. After a few minutes, he finally stops jumping from building to building. He lets you gain footing before letting you go, but even then, his hand doesn't leave your own.
"Where.. are we?" You held his hand tightly and stood close to him — You've never stood atop a roof before so you were still afraid of falling. The city below was bustling and lively; You kind of wished you could walk the streets with him, but his appearance would surely draw attention.
You look up to him, only to see that he's already gazing down at you, his upper and lower eyes closed. It makes him look more human and it almost makes you melt when you consider he might be doing it to make you see him as less of a demon and more of a human. "There are fireworks.. It's still your wedding after all, you should celebrate."
But when the fireworks start to light up into the sky, you pull him down to your level and place a chaste kiss on his forehead. It catches him completely off guard and for a moment, you think you've done something wrong with the way he stays frozen in place. "I'm sorry..! I um, I don't know what came over me, I just.. you're being so kind to me- you've been kind to me and I just.. It made me happy.."
Kokushibo blinks and watches you fret over a mere kiss as if you've done something grave to anger him. He thinks you're adorable, over explaining yourself like this like any of it matters. His hand comes up again to cup your jaw and his golden eyes flicker to your lips and then back to your eyes; It was as if he was asking for your permission to kiss you. He leans in and his breath ghosts over your lips but he doesn't go any further, waiting for you to give him your consent.
You tilt your head upwards and close your eyes when you close the space between his lips and yours. Its slow at first and you follow his lead because you've never kissed someone before, which he takes note of. He deepens the kiss by angling your head to the side, you whimper at the feel of his tongue swiping across your lower lip. "Koku.." you sigh, your hands gripping the fabric of his sleeves slightly while he keeps kissing you.
His tongue brushes over yours, earning a whine from you that frankly made you embarrassed; Kokushibo was making you feel and do things that you never had done before, it made you nervous.. and maybe a little excited — Which you shouldn't be, because your husband was laying on the bed you both shared, only a few blocks away. Your skin started to feel warm the longer you kept making out with him; His lips were addictive — You almost forgot he probably ate humans with that same mouth.
He pulled apart from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your mouths until it snapped, leaving your lips glossy and breathless. Your cheeks were still warm and you were all of a sudden bashful after what you had done with him. "Uhm.." your hands still held onto his sleeve.
"Are you ..alright?" Kokushibo's voice is more gentle, almost like a deep whisper only meant for you.
"Mhm..!" You nod, "It's just, well.. I've never kissed anyone before, so.."
It would be a lie if Kokushibo said it didn't fill him with pride to know he was your first. He found his desire to have you growing by the minute — It was dangerous to feel this way, especially about you since you were already married to someone else.. But Kokushibo then realized that the legality of it didn't really apply to him, for he wasn't a human in the first place.
Why should he care? It wasn't as if you loved the man you were wed to, and you leaned into the kiss as well, so that must have meant you wanted him too.
"Did you enjoy it?" Kokushibo asks, completely unaware of how nervous he's making you feel.
"I, ah.. I did.." you say quietly, still not looking up at him.
The sound of a firework popping in the air broke the two of you out of your little bubble. After the firework show had stopped, Kokushibo did you the favor of returning you home, but not without a tight hug and a kiss that you yourself had requested of him.
After around the fifth month of you being married to Jinsei and seeing Kokushibo during the nights, you noticed that your husband was getting increasingly irritated with you. You refused to sleep with him and would rarely kiss him; You acted like a wife in all other aspects but when it came to having access to your body, Jinsei had none. You could understand him because it was normal for a husband to want his wife, but you were only his wife by title. Your heart belonged to another and your understanding of him would not change this fact.
It was honestly a miracle that you had managed to keep your relationship to Kokushibo under wraps for this long because when you were going to see Kokushibo again at the beginning of the night like you usually do.. Well, your husband wasn't exactly having it.
You took Jinsei's arm off of your stomach, like you usually did and waited for a moment before leaving the bed entirely. Just as you were turning the knob and pushing the door outward, the voice of your husband made chills run down your spine.
"_______."
Your eyes widen and you feel a cold shiver run all over your body; Starting in your stomach and spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes. ".. Jinsei?"
"What is it that you're doing?"
"I'm getting some air." You lied through your teeth as best as you could. It was logical and he shouldn't suspect anything.
"Is that right?"
"Yes, Jinsei." You said as you began walking out in the hopes that he'd leave it alone.
But arrogant rich men like him don't exactly like being left as if they were nothing more than an afterthought by their wives, now do they?
You close the door and pray he goes back to bed so you can see Kokushibo like you always do, but your husband pulls the door open and snakes his warm hands around your waist, laying his chin on the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. You freeze in place and feel that familiar twinge of anxiety well up in your stomach. You felt suffocated under his touch, like you couldn't breathe when he caged you in like this.
"What are you doing, Jinsei?"
"What, I can't hold my wife?" Its a rhetorical question. One he doesn't expect you to answer — and you don't. Instead, you freeze in his hold and his hands keep messing with the obi of your yukata. "I think.. it's about time we consummate our marriage, don't you think, my flower?"
Your blood runs cold in your veins. "J-Jinsei, We've talked about this.. I'm just-"
"-'Not ready yet'? Are you going to use that same excuse? Flower, I've upheld all of my vows and taken care of you and your family, don't you think you can do something for me, too?" His voice is playful but the situation is anything but.
You wanted your first time to be shared with someone you love.. why did none of your wishes ever matter to anyone?
Just when you were about to succumb to someone else's desires, yet again — Kokushibo appeared in front of you, his body in between the railing of the balcony and you. A glimmer of hope returned to your eyes upon seeing him, but fear quickly settled in. Not because of him, but because your husband would surely find out about Kokushibo and you.
"Wha-?! What the hell are you?!" Jinsei immediately pulled you behind him — no longer focused on his desire — and confronted the demon that loomed over him unwaveringly. Kokushibo paid your husband no mind and instead directed his gaze towards you. Jinsei stepped in front of you to get his attention. "Look at me, Not her!" Jinsei arrogantly confronts Kokushibo and you almost begin to feel a sort of fear for him. Yes, you disliked your husband immensely, but it wasn't as if you wanted him to suffer — especially not at the hands of your .. You couldn't even call him your friend because friends did not kiss you as passionately as Kokushibo did— Hell, friends didn't kiss at all!
But you couldn't worry about what Kokushibo was to you right now, your husband's life was in danger, you knew that much just from the expression Kokushibo wore. He wasn't angry, but you knew what his calm demeanor looked like — and it wasn't like that.
You yank on the sleeve his yukata, "Please, don't do anything rash — Let me handle it. Please."
"Stubborn woman, You can't possibly—!"
"I'm not talking to you." you say, brushing him to the side and stepping forward to put yourself in between Kokushibo and your husband. "Don't do anything, I'll.. I'll handle him and see you tomorrow night, okay?"
Your husband let out a low grunt and pulled you back against his body, his arms circling your waist and keeping your back pressed to his chest. "Just what the hell is going on? Do you know him?"
You squirm against him, "That's none of your—!"
"Release her." Kokushibo's deep tone sends shivers down your spine and you can tell it shakes your husband as well because his hands start to shake.
"Kokushibo, please." you plead, your frantic eyes meeting the two middle sets of his eyes. You notice his hand rests on the scabbard of his Katana, the click of the sword separating from its sheath terrifies you.
"I will not leave you with the likes of him."
"Then take me with you— but leave him breathing." You weren't sure then of the words you were saying, but you had just given Kokushibo your full permission to be selfish without even knowing it.
The click of Kokushibo's sword against the hilt of the sheath brought you relief, "Very well."
"Hey! Wait, you can't make that decision by yourself!" Jinsei reaches for your hand, desperate to get you back in his vicinity as he watches you walk towards the demon. "You're my wife!"
You were about to turn to respond to him; To tell him that he should just accept it, that he should forget about you. Yet as soon as you begin to turn your head, the sound of a sword unsheathing fills your ears and in a flash, your husband's hand comes clean off of his wrist. At the same time that blood spills from his wound, you're pulled back with a strong arm around your waist. Before you can even react, you're lifted off of your balcony.
Hot tears pricked your vision and a multitude of emotions washed over you as Kokushibo jumped from building to building. "What.. What did you do? Kokushibo, Why?!" You yelped, speaking through your tears. "I told you not to hurt him!"
"You told me to leave him breathing." Kokushibo responds, carrying your crying self away from the city and into the forest. Despite how distraught you were, you made no movements to get away from him — To him, that was already a victory in and of itself.
"That's—! You know what I meant! He's not like you, he can't regenerate limbs!" Your holding onto him tight as if you don't know that there isn't a way a hell he'd ever drop you. Kokushibo relishes the feeling of your physical dependence on him, but he doesn't let you know that.
"He should be grateful I only cut one of them."
"He won't be able to live like before! What'll happen to my parents if he decides to retaliate?! You can't just do this without thinking!"
"No harm shall come to your loved ones, I guarantee it."
"How do you know that?!"
"If he ceases to exist, he cannot inflict damage upon them." Your lips are slightly open and your eyes are widening. Right.. He was a demon. How could you have forgotten such an important detail? How could you have been so careless as to forget that you had made friends with a supernatural being who saw humans as nothing more than sustenance?
But.. Kokushibo had never been that way towards you, So why?
You said nothing more to him, deciding instead to hold onto him and hide your face in the fabric of his kimono. For some reason, its scent was comforting despite the situation you now found yourself in. All you could feel then was Kokushibo's strong hold on you and the wind that kissed your skin.
.
.
.
When you awoke, you were in a strange place.
It resembled the room you used to live in; With traditional shoji doors and tatami mats.. But something was off. The room was lit dimly with intricately crafted lanterns. You were tucked into a futon when you first awoke but after getting up, you were starting to get a weird feeling. You then remembered what had happened last night and looked around for Kokushibo to confront him about this place.
It was then that you noticed that he was sat in the middle of the floor with his back turned to you. You bit your bottom lip nervously and walked towards him, your footsteps cautious and quiet. You noticed his eyes were closed the more you moved closer to him, was he meditating?
".. Kokushibo?" Your voice was quiet and a little hoarse from the night before.
His eyes opened slowly and they drifted towards you, watching as you sat beside him. "Speak your mind."
"I'm sorry for yelling at you.. I know you just wanted to protect me." Your gaze was downcast and you failed to even look at him. More importantly, it seemed that you understood why he had done what he did during the night before. It was true, he wanted to protect you. He knew that your husband was about to manipulate your kind heart into giving him whatever he wanted that night. Kokushibo knew well how guilty you felt about being married to another man and yet still choosing to see him.
But it seemed that you severely underestimated the lengths he was willing to go through to make sure your heart belonged to him and him only. Your kindness and ability to give the benefit of the doubt to others was you downfall, but don't worry. He's here to protect you after all; You and your kind heart.
"..Are you upset with me?" you asked him meekly. You looked so vulnerable, sitting beside him so ashamed of your own reasonable anger at him. It was normal that you should feel concern, but here.. here, you were completely putting his feelings above your own.
"I could never be upset with you." Kokushibo said, his gaze softening slightly and laying his hand atop your head. It was then that you looked up, your gaze brighter now and a slight smile on your face.
"I'm glad to hear that, Koku." You then slip your arms around his middle and hold him close to you, as if you'd missed him or something of that sort. "I guess.. I don't have to worry about him finding out now.. I hope he can find someone else, someone who can genuinely love him."
Kokushibo admired your optimism.
You had no way of knowing that Kokushibo was the death that did the two of you part.
See, while legality did not apply to a demon like Kokushibo — he was still an old-fashioned man. There was no way he was going to let that sorry excuse for a husband walk free after the events of the night before. You didn't have to know that yet, though. For now, he'd receive your warm embrace like you were the only being that mattered.
He pulled you closer so that you sat in his lap which you did not protest. Cupping his jaw, you leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. It was soft and slow; A kiss that he would engrave into his mind for years to come.
You pulled apart after a few minutes, smiling and breathless.
"Oh, I wanted to ask you — What is this place?" Your sight drifts to the room around you. "It's different.."
Kokushibo holds your chin in between his index finger and thumb.
"You need not worry about such things.. Just know that you are safe with me."
Pairings: Kokushibo x reader, doma x reader, Akaza x reader, Hantengu Clones (Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi) x reader, Gyokko x reader, Daki x reader, Gyutaro x reader, Muzan x reader
Contains: Pure fluff! Kinda heartwarming (they're demons i meaaan)
A/N: Banners made by me!! Burning the midnight oil rn by posting. Does anyone actually like Gyokko? (Genuinely asking) ALSO THREW IN MUZAN FOR A BONUS AT THE END!!!
Hashira version here.
Main trio & Extra Characters coming soon!
Kokushibo🌙🖤
♡ Up before sunrise
♡ Polishes his blade like a monk doing a ritual
♡ Has that terrifying "been awake and watching you" energy if you're watching him
♡ Doesn't say good morning, just stares at you until you acknowledge him.
As you slowly stir awake, you turn to see Kokushibo sitting beside the bed with his legs tucked under him. His sword sat across his lap, his motions slow but deliberate as he cleans his blade. Though since he had six eyes, he could focus on his work and keep an eye on your resting figure. When he notices you stir awake, he pauses his ministrations and turns his head to you. Every morning it's been like this since you got with him. He never greeted you first; instead, he would just wait until you woke up to greet him. "Good morning, Koku." You said sleepily as you rubbed the remnants of exhaustion from your eyes. He hummed in response before turning away once more. And with that, he can finally start his day.
Doma🪭🩷
♡ Too cheerful. He's like GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE at full volume
♡ Absolutely the type to hum or sing while stretching dramatically
♡ Already has tea and snacks prepared???
♡ Hangs off you physically even if you're half-asleep
Doma wakes up before the sun rises, as he doesn't really need to rest, but he loves lying beside you and holding you all night. He watches you with a silent smile on his lips until your eyes finally woke. "Good morning sunshine~!" Doma greets you, his smile growing bigger. As he sits up, he stretches like a cat to ease his joints after being in the same position all night. "Hungry?" He would ask you eagerly, already holding a tray of snacks and tea for you. You blinked in surprise because, how in the world did he prepare all that if he didn't leave the bed once? (His little ice clone, duh)
Akaza👊💙
♡ He's up at dawn to train.
♡ Wakes you up by shaking your shoulder like 'come on lets go on a run' HELP???
♡ But also gets flustered if you're still in a cozy bed and you ask him to stay
♡ Morning = Fight prep, but you might convince him into a hug first
As dawn slowly encroaches in your winter wonderland, you already know what is coming. Normally, you would join Akaza during his morning routines. But today it was way too cold to. Before you could even open your eyes, Akaza was already by your side. He gently removed the covers from you, which you held in a death grip. "Good morning, my love. It's time to go on our run." He spoke softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. However, you whined because you didn't want to leave the warm bed. Not yet, anyway. "..stay." You plead, holding onto his wrist. He looked at you, surprised, but soon enough, he crawls back under the sheets with you. He holds you as you snuggle into him.
Hantengu (Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi) 🌈🤍
♡ His clones wake up with their own moods (Good luck bestie)
♡ Blanket-stealer. Constant blanket drama
♡ Not a restful morning EVER.
"Stop it." Sekido grumbled as Urogi tugged at the blankets, rolling them around himself as if he were a burrito. Aizetsu just frowned, letting out a defeated sigh as he snuggled into your side to try to cherish the fleeting warmth. "Make me~," Urogi laughed before Karaku kicked him off the bed. He landed with a muffled 'thud' and as soon as he hit the ground, Sekido grabbed the ends of the blanket, unrolling him as if he was rolling out the red carpet. Urogi made some shocked sounds as he was rapidly spun around until Sekido retrieved the blanket. Karaku fought with Sekido, using the blanket as if it were a rope in a tug-of-war. "Let go, we can all share!" Sekido grumbled while Karaku laughed. "No! You don't even share properly!" Meanwhile, Aizetsu gave up before the fight even started (???), and he was now basically on top of you, trying to keep both of you warm with a frown on his face.
Gyokko🎨💙
♡ Wakes up muttering about his "artistic vision" and immediately goes to scribble or sculpt (dead ass me waking up and writing fanfic)
♡ Probably doesn't even eat breakfast-just obsessed with his creations (LITERALLY ME-)
♡ Would 100% talk to you about how you sleeping looked like, "a masterpiece of serenity"
♡ If you're still asleep, he'll stare at you and whisper criquites like an art profession. Lowkey might even mess with your hair or your posture so you look more magnificent while sleeping.
You were awake. You always were. But you kept your eyes closed, because it was quite rare for Gyokko to praise anything but his own artwork. You shamelessly loved how he would praise you were were the greatest masterpiece he's ever seen while you slept, so that's why you pretended. You let him gently fuss over your hair, as well as fix the sheets or pillows. "A masterpiece of serenity...this would be so beautiful on a vase, my muse." He quietly murmured, watching you with a big smile. And then, your daily shower of praise and affection was over with as he slithered (?) away to create a vase that was on par with your beauty.
Daki🏮❤️
♡ Complains if you wake her up too early. "I'm too pretty to wake up this early."
♡ Buries herself in blankets and refuses to move until dragged out
♡ If you try to leave the bed (good luck), she'll grab your arm and while, "Stayyyy"
♡ Morning cuddles are MANDATORY
Daki is a night owl, so do not expect her to be awake in the mornings. Her room is completely pitch black, save for a single paper lantern she kept on at all times. Despite being a creature of the dark, she was scared of the dark. Well, more specifically, she was scared of being alone. So she keeps the small lantern on so she can always see you. Though it didn't matter if you were also a night owl or not, you were banned from leaving the bed while she slept. It was the only time she really ever let her guard down, and having you by her side made her feel safe. As you slowly stir awake, she instinctively holds you tighter, burying her head in the crook of your shoulder and neck. Gods save you if you had to use the bathroom or if you were starving, you were being held prisoner until nighttime now.
Gyutaro 🎐💚
♡ Light sleeper - wakes up the second you move
♡ Groggy, raspy voice, rubbing at his face
♡ Pretends he doesn't like cuddles but will cling to you if you shift away. (Claims it's for warmth)
♡ Grumbles a lot but secretly doesn't want to let you out of bed.
Another night owl. Much like his sister, Gyutaro absolutely loathes being awake during the morning times. But at least you had the freedom to leave the bed whenever you pleased. (Or at least that's what you think). When you woke up, you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. Being a light sleeper, Gyutaro was instantly awake the second your breathing shifted from its slow, steady pace to a more alert one. "...Morning..." He grumbled. The second you move to sit up, he holds you tighter against him. "...Gyu...?" You blinked at him in surprise. He doesn't say anything, he just closes his eyes and gives you a small squeeze. Eventually, you sigh and snuggle back into him.
Muzan Kibutsuji 🍷🖤
♡ Doesn't "wake up"; he just exists. (Demons don't blink, so by definition they don't need to sleep either, soooo) I imagine he just lies there like a mummy, but he has his eyes open LMFAOOO
♡ If he does entertain the idea of actually sleeping, he wakes up perfectly put together (how is that fair). Hate him for it, fr.
♡ His idea of a morning routine is sitting in absolute silence, sipping something ominous, and planning world domination. (relatable)
♡ If you're there, he expects you to wake up before him, waiting obediently
♡ 100% the type to shame you for sleeping in. "You slept in. How...disappointing," EVEN IF IT'S ONE MINUTE AFTER YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE AWAKE LOL
♡ The concept of "morning cuddles" does not exist. The closest you get is him standing by the window like a gothic oil painting while you shuffle in, half-asleep, and he just raises an eyebrow at you.
The moment you wake up and roll over, you almost have a heart attack. Because there he was. The demon king in all of his glory. He pulled up a chair to your side of the bed, sitting nonchalantly while drinking from a cup of something. "You overslept." He said plainly. When you look at the clock, it's only 5 minutes after you were actually supposed to be awake. You narrowed your eyes at him, to which he just sipped his drink as if he were watching some nature documentary instead of your early rising. So, of course, you open your mouth to defend yourself, but he just raises a hand up to silence you. Perhaps if you pout hard enough, maybe, just MAYBE, he'll place a hand on your arm.
₊°ᗢ₊˚✧☕ Writer's note: I'm not sorry. I'm obessed with baby daddy AUs okay...
Starring: Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza.
Notes: nothin much, just fluff.
───────୨ৎ───────
Kokushibo was absolutely the “I do not care for such trivial vulnerable attachments” type… until you got pregnant, and suddenly he’s standing there like an awkward 6'3 nightmare samurai who now has to figure out baby logistics.
His demon brain is like “offspring = strength” but his heart (yes he has one, shhh) is quietly freaking out because you’re carrying something that’s half him.
He’s overprotective in a very Kokushibo way — not loud, not gushy, but always watching, always keeping danger 20 miles away. He’s practically your shadow.
His scent obsession goes crazy. He can smell every tiny change in you — heartbeat, blood composition, even your emotions — and it both soothes and worries him.
He starts hunting more before you even mention cravings, just leaving fresh kills in your space like “eat. now.”
You’d think demons don’t have the hormonal mood swings humans do but… yeah, you still do. He just stares blankly through your emotional outbursts, waits until you’re done, and then quietly pulls you against him.
Lowkey hates seeing you fight while pregnant — even if you’re strong enough to win — because his instincts are screaming “protect the heir.”
When you’re sleeping, he’ll sit nearby with his sword resting against his shoulder, watching both the moon and you.
Refuses to let Muzan overstep — if the Demon King so much as implies interest in the baby for his “plans,” Kokushibo shuts that down with a cold glare.
Doesn’t smile (ever, duh) but his tone softens around you without him realizing.
Doesn’t want to admit he’s curious about what the child will look like, but he’s always thinking about it. Six eyes? Your features? Will it inherit both your abilities?
Secretly has a name picked out but won’t tell you until the day the baby’s born.
Ohhh they’re done. He won’t just kill them — he’ll erase them from existence so thoroughly it’s like they never lived.
Other demons know better than to even look at you too long.
He feels… peace when his palm rests against your stomach and he can hear two heartbeats. It reminds him that not all eternity is just blood and war.
For someone who’s lived centuries drowning in Muzan’s orders, the idea of having something that’s his — his family, his choice — feels almost rebellious.
───────୨ৎ───────
Douma doesn’t really get pregnancy in an emotional way at first — like, he knows what it is but doesn’t fully grasp the weight of it. He’s just like “Oh my! How delightful! We’re going to have a little us!” with that empty smile.
Then it slowly clicks that you’re literally carrying his child and suddenly he’s fascinated in a way that’s almost obsessive.
Treats the whole thing like a festival in your honor — constantly telling everyone in the Eternal Paradise cult about “the little miracle” and how blessed they all are to witness it.
Brings you ridiculous amounts of food, even if you didn’t ask — everything from fine meats to maybe lotus tea, because “I want our little one to grow big and strong!”
Always rubbing your stomach without asking, not even realizing that some days you might be over it.
The king of making lighthearted jokes about the baby like, “I wonder if it’ll be born with fangs! Or maybe those cute little claws~!”
You’ll never lift a finger for anything. He’s carrying you around, fanning you, tucking your hair behind your ear like you’re royalty.
Extremely handsy in a protective-but-playful way — arm always around you, pulling you into his lap, making you sit sideways on his beanbag throne with him.
Acts like he’s not worried, but his attention sharpens whenever someone gets too close.
Tries to make the pregnancy “fun” — decorating the temple with flowers, throwing little ceremonies “for the baby.”
Already has dozens of names picked out, half of which are ridiculously extravagant.
Tells you constantly how “perfect” the child will be — in his mind, it’s an extension of his beauty and yours, so obviously it’ll be divine.
Has probably already started making tiny matching outfits for the three of you.
The smile stays, but the eyes go sharp. He will cheerfully dismember someone while humming if they even hint at hurting you or the baby.
Cult members know better than to annoy you — Douma’s wrath is fast and weirdly creative.
He doesn’t think he’s capable of true love… but he does feel something different with you and the baby. There’s this strange warmth he can’t name, and it keeps him hovering around you more than usual.
When you’re sleeping, he sometimes leans close to your stomach and quietly talks to the baby — telling them how they’re going to “see the most beautiful sights with Papa” and “always be adored.”
Part of him is oddly excited to see if this child will make him feel something genuine for the first time in centuries.
───────୨ৎ───────
The second Akaza finds out you’re pregnant, his whole brain rewires into hyper-protective mode. Like, he was already protective before, but now? He’s basically your walking, talking, growling guard dog.
He treats the idea of you carrying his child as the most sacred, honorable thing ever. In his mind, this baby is his new reason to keep getting stronger — a living legacy.
Very serious about it too — there’s no joking around like Douma, no detached observation like Kokushibo. He’s invested.
Refuses to let you fight, even if you’re strong enough to win. “Not while you’re carrying my child. I’ll handle it.”
Brings you fresh prey constantly — insists on it being the “best quality” kills, nothing stale. He wants you eating well so the baby’s strong.
Will literally sit by you for hours just watching you rest. Not in a creepy way — in a “I’m making sure nothing even breathes wrong in your direction” way.
Gets extra touchy with you — palm on your back when walking, carrying you if you’re even slightly tired, wrapping his arm around your waist.
Talks to you differently — still blunt, but softer and more careful with his words.
If you start feeling insecure about your changing body, he immediately shuts that down with genuine compliments. “You’re beautiful. You’re carrying our child. No one will ever look better to me than you do right now.”
When you sleep, he always sleeps between you and the door. No one gets past him.
Already imagining training the child when they’re older, teaching them martial arts and discipline — he will brag about it too.
Wonders out loud if the baby will inherit your powers or his fighting strength. Secretly hopes for both.
Names are important to him — he’ll want it to have meaning, something strong and honorable.
Ohhh girl… they’re gone. Not just killed — annihilated. Akaza will go full Upper Moon rage mode and it won’t be pretty.
Even other Upper Moons keep their distance when you’re around. The only one who might poke fun is Douma, but even he knows Akaza will snap if he pushes too far.
He didn’t think he’d ever have a family again after his human life — and now that he does, the thought of losing it terrifies him.
Sometimes when you’re asleep, he’ll rest his forehead against your stomach and quietly promise the baby that they’ll grow up safe, strong, and loved.
There’s a part of him that’s scared he won’t live up to being a good father — but he’s determined to try anyway.
hihihihiijihihii. i wanted to ask if you're taking kny requests. if yes, i wanted to request yandere!character headcanons. thank you.
Yandere headcanons.
Some of my Yandere Headcanons for the Upper Three.
Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x gn!human!reader (established relationship)
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Unhealthy behaviour, stalking, possessiveness, implied murder, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, touchy behaviour, if I missed anything, please tell me!
Note: Yummy yummy. I wanted to make this for the upper 3, I thought it’s perfectly fitting for them.
Kokushibo // Upper Moon One.
Like a pet.
Kokushibo is a prideful and powerful demon, meaning that if he chose you as a partner, you must be his perfect mate and nothing less.
As his perfect partner, it is his duty to make sure nobody, and that means nobody, is allowed to even lay eyes upon you. You are too sacred to be defiled by looks from demons that are drooling at their mouth at the sight of your soft and unscathed skin, humans that leer at you for your beauty and animals that not have the cognitive ability to appreciate your person.
You know that you are never fully alone or not being watched over, you’re not sure how but you can feel it beneath your skin how his eyes are always hiding somewhere, watching your every move. Not that you can move around a lot anyway.
He treats you like a pet that needs constant attention and pampering. Kokushibo confines you in his wing of the infinity castle so that he is assured that you are nearby and a sliding door away while he meditated. When he is not around and out to hunt for a meal or to so his master’s bidding and search for the damned flower that kept pulling him away from you, you are trapped inside a single room with some necessities to keep you alive until you come back.
There are some clothes to change into, food to eat, water to drink and some paper to write or draw on. If he feels generous and you have been on good behaviour, Kokushibo may leave some books or a board of shogi to play with yourself. If you misbehaved or upset him in any way, which is not very hard to do, you loose your mind out of sheer boredom. But because of that, you seem much more compliant and overjoyed to see Kokushibo return to keep you company.
Every now and then he allows you to accompany him outside of the castle. You never visit villages or cities, enjoy festivals or take lengthy walks hand in hand, Kokushibo only takes you on a the same small walk you two have been taking every single time and the only one he deemed safe enough for you to walk.
He never walks with or beside you, always standing by the same spot and waiting for your return. He knows you’re not stupid enough to try and run somewhere, you’ve tried before and failed. And you know the punishment for it.
Besides, you don’t even want to run away anymore. Why would you?
Kokushibo brings home beautiful kimonos to dress you in, more than enough food to keep you satiated, keeps you close and safe in his arms, allows you to live in his wing of the infinity castle, and he is the only man that will ever love you the way he does. Of that he assures you every day.
Only he can provide for you, only he can care for you, only he matters in your life.
Kokushibo is a prideful demon, so you should be infinitely grateful that he chose you as his partner.
Douma // Upper Moon Two
Like a doll.
Douma doesn’t like it when things break. All of his things are valuable, so especially when one of his precious valuables shatter and become unusable, ugly and tossed aside, his dead heart aches a little.
And since he considers you to be one of his things, his most precious doll, Douma makes everything in his power to keep you happy and pretty.
He sends his followers far away to gather you expensive silks and hand-woven kimonos and yukatas, hair pieces and jewerly, shawls, handheld-fans, exotic foods and whatever else that comes into mind that could make you even more precious than you already do. He adores dressing you up for his sermons, making a mess of your wealthy closet as he rummages through the neatly arranged and tucked away clothes to pick out the perfect colours and theme.
Douma doesn’t have emotions of his own, so be often forgets that you have them. He finds it funny when you get embarrassed about him insisting to watch you change or when you explode on him about being to overbearing and obsessive. You admit, it was cute and nice being showered in lavish luxuries, but you feel like a decoration to him. Something to have on his lap and show off in front of many.
He also makes sure you keep your life for as long as you can. Human lifespans are so short and their health fragile, so Douma orders weekly physician-checkups to check for sicknesses and forces you to take daily spa breaks where he personally tends to you to keep your appearance fresh and perfect.
Despite all this, Douma gets jealous whenever someone else admires you. Only he is permitted to gaze upon you with admiration, to pray to you like an idol and fantasise about you day in and out, your face eternally plaguing his mind. Nobody but him can play with his doll.
”Playing”, to him, is watching you squirm beneath his grip and gaze as he forces you to sit beside him as he feasts on his next snack. It’s his way to say “stay in line or this will be you”.
Overall, he is rather tame. Douma would only hurt you physically if absolutely necessary. He wouldn’t do anything to compromise his doll, after all. His punishments for disobeying him, which could be as little as staring at someone for too long, will be either luring the next human into his chamber for a meal and watching him have his dinner, or isolation for days on end without food or water, entertainment or light, to really make you think about if it was worth it to asking him to go for a walk without his permission.
Akaza // Upper Moon 3
Like treasure. Or capture.
Akaza is comparable to a dragon protecting his den with his precious treasure inside that no other has ever had the privilege to lay their eyes upon.
He is paranoid about what could happen to you during the day, when he is not around, so Akaza barricades you inside your house. The windows are closed up and doors locked. No one living near even knows somebody lives inside this abandoned house down by the thick forest.
Akaza brings you food during the nights to keep you satiated during the day, but you still have to ration everything out. He provides clothes, entertainment like books, art supplies, shogi boards and whatever else you request. Some of the things may be a little more bloodstained than others though.
He can’t bear the thought of you getting in harms way. He’d simply break and die himself alongside you, so whenever he can, Akaza remains with you. Thanks to the closed up windows allowing no light in, he can even sometimes stay during the day, although he isn’t great company.
Instead of playing shogi or keeping up conversations, he sits in the corner and stares at you. Akaza enjoys watching you live your daily, although boring, life. It’s unnerving to have a demon watch every move and jump out of the shadows in worry whenever he even suspects that you got gravelly injured, although you just stubbed your toe.
Akaza is shy in a weird way, uncomfortable to regard himself as your lover or whatever. He gets embarrassed at the thought of even touching you, gets angry at himself for fantasising about those lips again. You are too precious to be dirtied like that. Too precious for him.
Akaza overall doesn’t want to be your lover, unworthy of being yours. Instead he’ll be content to protect you from anyone like him and worse, to keep your pureness for as long as he can, in this small house where you’d much rather just die than live another day.
💠
Author’s note. Thank you for reading!
You didn’t specify what characters so I thought I’d write it for them <33 It was fitting I think
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough<33 Especially now, it’s very hot.
