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#demon slayer
noisylovepatrol · 2 days ago
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Kimetsu no Yaiba Post Card
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smol-ackerman · a day ago
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FLAME BREATHING: FIRST FORM - UNKNOWING FIRE
鬼滅の刃 MUGEN TRAIN ARC: Ep. 01: Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro
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cutie-writes · 2 days ago
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Warnings: R18+, arguments, smut f!reader
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
angst to fluff to smut, 3K
Summary: You are still recovering from a “simple” mission that left you severely injured, much to your embarrassment. You laugh it off in hopes of making light of it so your husband doesn’t think of you as weak— but “weak” is no where near close to what Kyojuro thinks of you.
A/N: Several months later and I’m posting something on my blog that has nothing to do with the academy au 😭
NSFW AHEAD
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“You understand why I’m angry at you, right?”
“…is it because now it takes me longer to make those pork buns you love so much?” You say, sheepishly.
The joke didn’t land. If anything it just made it worse.
“Stop it,” He grits out. “Stop making fun of..all of this!” He runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends.
“What do you want me to do then, cry?” You snap. You’ve been trying so hard to keep it in, you are not going to burst into waterworks over some shitty attempt at what you guess was a reconciliation.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “I don’t care what you do as long as you just take this seriously!” He shouts, “you were injured! How Reckless can you possibly be?!” It is rare for Kyojuro to raise his voice in anger, much less towards you.
Tears well up in your eyes and you turn around to avoid him from seeing. Unfortunately, he takes this as an act of pettiness and fully unleashes his temper.
“You were so careless! Your comrades almost died, you almost died! And you walk around as if it were nothing! As if you’d just scraped a knee, it’s ridiculous!” He yells now, and you can’t bear to face him. Hearing his disappointment was enough, to actually see it might just kill you. Out of all your years together, your arguments were never this bad.
You stay silent as he paces around the room. You feel shame rise to your cheeks and wrap your arms around yourself. You can’t do this. But it’s not like you can really leave, either.
“The side of your head was drenched in blood, Y/N. They could barely recognize you. Your left leg was crushed. They didn’t know if they’d be able to help you walk again. They didn’t even know if you’d survive the night.” He seethed out before falling into complete silence, not a sound save for the crackling of the fire.
The moment stretches as you become nauseous. You hope those footsteps are moving towards the door but instead sound like they’re getting closer and closer.
“Stop,” you mumble.
He freezes. “Stop what?”
“I…” you take in a deep breath, praying that the words about to come out are steady and firm. The opposite of how you truly feel.
“I want to be left alone,” you say shakily. You start to hiccup and hear a strange “hmph” behind you. You hate crying in front of people and you hate crying during an argument even more. You try to stumble towards your room, cursing as your leg gives way. The next thing you knew you were falling, the floor getting closer and closer…
Then it stopped.
You keep your eyes shut, a whimper crawling out of your throat.
“Y/N,” he calls out softly. “What is this really about?”
That question along with his gentle tone tore down every wall you struggled to build.
Tears flood from your eyes as he moves to cradle you towards his chest, tucking your head under his chin. He sits you both down and waits for you to settle, rubbing circles on your back.
“I’m sorry,” you eventually croak out.
“For what?” He asks.
“E-everything, the crying, the jokes, the mission, I know I failed. I know I disappointed you. I thought that if I played it off, you wouldn’t see it as a big deal and we could just move past it. But that just made it worse. I’m sorry I failed you.”
There’s silence and you slowly lift your head away from his shoulder. As scary as it is, you need to see his face right now.
And right now, he looks completely and utterly broken.
“You…you thought I was disappointed in you?” He asks and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
“Why wouldn’t you be?! You’re right! My friends were hurt, I barely killed that demon, and to make matters worse, I almost got slaughtered in the process instead! I can’t stay with you if I can’t even manage to come back from a stupid mission in one piece.” You rant, hands clenching in self-pity. “You said you heard from the other hashira what had happened to me! I’m sure you were embarrassed!”
His gaze tenses, but the fire in his eyes held a different light. His grip grows harsher, though it’s not in malice.
“I was upset because I could’ve lost you.” He whispers. “I was afraid that if you kept laughing over this, you’d never take yourself seriously and would end up dying on another mission. And that I wouldn’t be there to protect you.”
“I don’t think you’re weak,” he continues, “I’ve never thought that and never will. You spoke without a problem while your leg was bent in all sorts of angles, for Gods’ sake. You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he smiles gently. “I wasn’t embarrassed when Shinobu and the others told me. In fact, they were just about as concerned as I was.” He was an honest man, you knew he was telling the truth, but you found it unbelievable nonetheless. Still, you fake a smile as you try to lean back into his chest, only to stop as his fingers firmly grasp your chin.
“I mean it,” he says. “No one had a single bad thought about you. They care about you. You’re worth caring about, Y/N.”
Your smile is wobbly as you throw your arms around his neck, he arms wrapping around you just as tightly. “I’m sorry for making you worry about such a thing,” he tells you. You shake your head as a way to say “forget about it” but he pulls you back to take a strand of your hair, stroking it before putting it behind your ear.
“I thought you died Y/N. I thought I’d never see you again.” His hand moves to your cheek, cradling it with the gentleness you’ve been craving since you were confined to a lumpy mattress at the mansion. You nuzzle into it, receiving a playful huff in return. The atmosphere starts to change, and It’s not long before those caring hands move towards the back of your head, gripping the roots of your hair, firmly pulling them back. You shutter as he makes you bare his neck to him, choking out a gasp once his tongue finds your pulse.
“Of course,” he lets out a dark chuckle, “this isn’t something that I can forgive with just a hug and a kiss” he moves to push you down onto the floor before thinking better of it, moving the both of you to the bed.
He sets you down gently, and looks at you silently, hoping that you wanted this as much as he did. You smile and wrap your good leg around his waist, tugging him closer. “Oh? Then what can I do to make you forgive me?” You smile coyly and his eyes narrow. He isn’t as fast as usual, trying to maneuver himself in a way that wouldn’t irritate any of your injuries. “I’m not fragile,” you joke.
His head snaps up in irritation.
“It isn’t a matter of whether you’re fragile or not,” he grips your hip tightly. “It’s a matter of me taking care of you— and for you to learn to take better care of yourself.” If it hadn’t been for your leg, you knew he would have turned you over and spanked you. You mourn for the loss but he more than makes up for it when he seizes your throat.
“I thought you knew that this isn’t some casual fuck. I’m fucking you to teach you a lesson.” His hand is firm over your neck and you can’t hide your smile. He gives pressure and you let out a whine, grabbing his wrist with both of your small hands— not to stop him, just to ground yourself.
“Slut,” he grits out, but it’s not in anger. He chuckles in disbelief. “I try to teach you something and you can’t even listen. I’ve barely touched you yet but you’re already sounding like a whore.” He travels a finger down the middle of your legs, skimming your clit through your clothes along the way. It isn’t by any means close enough, but if you can’t listen, you can at least try to behave. You bite back your whines as he plays with the hems of your clothes, not touching you where you needed it most. Part of you wants to beg, but you’re not quite sure if that’d work or just prolong the torture. He grins as he watches you struggle, your face pulled into a pout and your hands clenching the sheets.
“Good girl,” he whispers, and you involuntarily let out a whimper. You wince, hoping he didn’t hear it but there was no way he could not. However, instead of adding any more punishments, he coos and strokes your bottom lip. “Aw baby, you’re trying so hard to behave, aren’t you?” He says and you shake your head furiously in response.
“It’s nice to know my girl still has her manners” he praises you. You lift your head up in hopes of getting more praise, more stimulation, just more, but instead are met with him pulling away. He tsks as he grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head. “But the lesson isn’t over yet,” he grins and you don’t hold back the sob crawling out of your throat in response.
He takes pity and does his best to rid you of both your pants and under garments without discomfort. You can’t help but wince when he slightly nudges your injured leg to the right. He notices and kisses your knee gently, before slowly moving the leg back down.
“Kyojuro,” you whisper, and he immediately stops what he’s doing, staring into your eyes with an intensity you’ve never seen before.
“I love you,” you say. It wasn’t a tease, or a way of trying to manipulate him into giving you what you wanted. You genuinely wanted him to know how much he meant to you. How much you loved him.
He pulls back from your lower half and smashes his lips against yours, foregoing any slight hint of teasing and instead focusing all of his energy onto you.
“I love you too,” he replies, “so damn much.”
He takes off your top as you start unbutton his uniform, only for him to take over and finish the job quicker. “Some punishment this was,” he laughs and you grin sheepishly.
His gentle sigh turns into a soft frown as his fingers trace over the side of your face that was damaged. You try to turn away to save yourself from the embarrassment, but that only made Rengoku’s grip tighter.
“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t hide from me.”
His hand is warm against your cheek and you can’t pinpoint what exact emotion he was feeling right now. You nod and give a soft smile.
“Since my first attempt at punishment wasn’t much of one.. I have some rules for you.” He tells you, traveling his hand down and over your heart.
Dammit.
You groan at him, “really, Kyojuro?”
Next thing you know you’re finding it hard to breathe and you blink up to your boyfriend hovering over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes and his hands around your throat.
“Watch it,” he warns, “or I won’t let you come at all.”
You try to nod but he shakes his head before relenting his grip, “words, Y/N.”
“Yes sir,” you gulped.
He relaxes and sits back. “I’m going to give you a choice” he says, “you come from my mouth or my cock- whatever you choose you can’t come during the other. Not unless I say so.”
He’s kidding.
He’s absolutely kidding.
“Ah I guess this requires some thinking, don’t it? I’ll give you some time.” He leans on one of his elbows, an evil grin spread across his face.
“Kyojuro please,” you beg. “That’s not fair!”
“Yeah, that’s the point,” he laughs.
You resist to complain again despite desperately aching for release, because you know it won’t get you anywhere.
“…Cock. I-I want to come on your cock.” You huff out.
“Okay sweetheart,” he smiles cheekily before his head is in between your thighs again.
What?
“Kyojuro wha- ahh! What are you doing?” You’re interrupted by a long swipe of his tongue over your cunt.
“I didn’t say which one you’d get first,” he says.
He grips your good thigh while keeping a gentle hand on the other. You’d like to say you appreciate it but you’re more frustrated than anything.
His nose pushes against your clit and you try to resist moving your hips but to no avail. You hiss at the pressure it puts on your bad leg and hope Kyojuro hadn’t noticed so he wouldn’t stop.
Of course he noticed.
But instead of stopping to ask if you’re okay, he grabs your hips closer and thrusts your hips for you, his tongue entering your hole. Giving it the attention you’ve been craving for.
“G’ah!” You gasp and shoot a hand down to his hair, tugging at his blond locks.
“K-Kyo…” you try to get out, but he’s leaving no room for you to breathe. His tongue dives into your hole once more before moving up and nipping at your clit.
“P-please…” you pant out. You don’t know if you could do this.
He moves over to your thigh, sucking on a patch of skin before biting down on it. You yelp and clench your fists. He huffs a laugh before moving back to your pussy. He leans forward to start again but your hand stops him.
“Oh?” He asks, mockingly.
“I-I can’t,” you admit. “It’s too much.”
“Oh sweetheart,” he croons. “I understand.”
His hand moves up to grab yours, leaning up to place a kiss on it.
“The thing is…” he starts “I don’t ever remember saying YOU could tell me when to stop.”
You don’t get the chance to say anything as his head delves into your pussy, licking and sucking with more tenacity than ever before. You throw your head back and scream, not caring if the neighbors hear.
He adds two fingers into your hole and within minutes you’re shaking, eyes brim with tears. How can you not cum when he’s putting his all into this?
“You taste so good” he moans out.
“Please…” you cry out, shutting your lids and shaking your head from side to side. You open your blurry eyes to see fierce red staring back at you and whine. “I-I can’t” you sob.
“You can,” he ignores you.
“No! I want you!” You yell out.
“And you have me,” he snarks back.
“Your cock!” You slam a fist down. “I want your cock! Please! I need it.”
You don’t hear anything for a moment but you don’t pay mind to it, you’re too busy crying from the overwhelming pleasure- only for it to stop completely.
You look up towards Kyojuro to see him rising from his position, both hands coming to cup your face.
“You did such a good job, baby.” He sighs, “I’m so proud of you.”
You hiccup in his hands and try to stop the after shakes, to which Kyojuro waits to settle down.
“Do you still want me?” He asks genuinely.
“More than anything,” you mutter.
He moves a strand of hair behind your ear and gives you a long kiss. You hum in return.
He is finally going to give you want you wanted. You watch him stroke his cock and move it towards your pelvis but it comes to a halt.
“Which way?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I…your leg,” he tries to explain, “which way is best for your leg?”
That’s a great question, actually.
Except it’s one you don’t have an answer for.
Thankfully he seems to have an idea as he picks you up and goes to place you in his lap.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to help much…” you trail off.
He laughs, “Baby you don’t have to worry about something like that.”
He gently wraps both legs around his hips and your hands around his shoulders.
“You ready?” He asks one more time.
You nod feverishly.
He slows his cock into you and you can’t help but groan in relief of finally feeling full. He stills for a moment and gives you a look, and you hang on tighter to his shoulders.
He starts to thrust and has no problems lifting you up and down whatsoever. It’s not long before he goes faster and deeper and you’re starting to cry again.
“Fuuuck” you moan out, feeling drool start to spill from your mouth.
“Such a good whore,” he praises. The way he moves you up and down is as if you were nothing but a sex toy— and god it felt amazing.
“Yours,” you drawl out. “Only yours.”
“Oh yeah? A good whore only for me?” He smirks as you fail to respond, croaking out nothing but groans and cries for more. He doesn’t slow down when you start to drift off, if anything he seems a little proud of himself. You retaliate by clenching down on him tightly and hear a choked gasp from your lover.
“You…fuck,” He wanted to warn you to not do that but it just felt so good.
“A-again,” he begs, “do that again.”
“Oh? What happened to you being in charge?” You sassed.
He doesn’t take well to that and lifts your hips up to deliver a sharp slap to your asscheek, never minding your whine of pain.
“I said. Again.”
You nod and do as he says, and it’s not long before you start to do it involuntary.
“Kyojuro, I’m close.” You tell him.
“Me too baby,” he pants as his thrusts start to falter.
“Can I come?” You ask, “please? I’ve been good.”
He laughs and tugs your chest to his face. “Yeah, you can come.”
He leans into one of your breasts and bites down on a nipple— and that’s the end of it.
You sob as you finish, feeling one of the most powerful orgasms you ever had. You whine at the overstimulation of him continuing to plow into you and start clawing at his shoulders.
“C-Come on…” you choke through your tears, “come Kyojuro.”
He lets out a loud moan as he finishes inside of you. With the sweat crawling down his body, tongue sticking out and panting, he paints the perfect picture. You grin at the feeling of being completely full and reach for his face.
“Fuck, Y/N” he huffs and rests his forehead to yours. “Perfect. You’re just..perfect.”
Now you start to cry for a different reason and he quickly moves you both to the side, your back to his chest.
“Sssh,” he hushes you, “it’s okay. You’re okay.” He rubs at your stomach and rests his chin on top of your hair.
“I love you so fucking much. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re safe.” He says in a hushed tone, almost as if he were holding back tears himself.
“You too..l-love you too,” you reply.
You both continue to wrap yourselves into each other, uncaring of the world around you. The only thing important at the moment was right at your bedside.
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curemi · a day ago
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a scared Zenitsu
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I'm not sure if requests are open, but if they are can I get a yandere Rengoku (My flame haired chicken boy...) With a darling that has major anxiety and is afraid of leaving the house?
Yandere Flame haired chiken boy
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Kyojuro is secretly really happy.
He knows he shouldn't be.
Kyojuro knows it's wrong.
He knows he should be worried about you and help you overcome your fears.
But at the same time, it makes him happy.
This will help keep you safe.
And keeping you safe is really important to him.
So Kyojuro a little encourages your fears.
He doesn't think it's anything serious.
However, you are always safe at home with your husband.
Maybe he’s just telling you stories about his “work”.
Many stories of dangerous demons that would surely eat you if you left home.
Lots of stories.
You really dare not go out anymore.
This gives you a lot of freedom.
Kyojuro does not need to lock you in any room.
You can move around the house completely freely.
Of course you can also go out together for a day time.
But he has to be with you then.
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somelattes · 2 days ago
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twelve months
pairing: sanemi x reader wc: 6k warnings: injuries, violence, abuse, sanemi's mouth note: just some really long, really slow burn, self indulgent content right here
The wind hashira is no master, nor he ever intends to be one. That is until you show up to sabotage his whole goddamn existence
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Sanemi Shinazugawa never wanted a Tsuguko. He never wanted a successor and he certainly didn't want to have to train one.
You had applied for the position a year before, in the most annoying way he had ever have the misfortune of experiencing. He had no idea how you managed to find his estate, appear out of thin air just to kneel on the ground and bow dramatically, forehead resting on your overlapped hands as you asked him to become your master.
“Get the fuck out”, was the only thing he spat, before turning his back to you and disappearing behind closed doors.
But there you were again, the next day. And the day after that. For a whole month, you showed up every single day, with the same identical request, making the veins on his temples throb and his eyebrow twitch. He even attacked you, hoping it would be enough to make you desist. It was pathetic, the way you took his kick to the stomach, gasping for air, tears in your eyes. But even while on all fours on the dusty ground, struggling to breathe, with his foot painfully pressing on your hand, you had repeated your plea. It was infuriating.
At this point, he was ready to simply beat you every single day until you decided you had enough. Except, his brilliant plan coudln't properly take form because somehow Oyakata-sama came to know about the odd situation and asked to see him individually. Kind and balanced as always, he asked him to give you a chance. He asked him to train you. “A slayer with such an iron will, bold enough to ask for your guidance, surely deserves an opportunity. Don't you think, my beloved child?”
Sanemi curled his hands into fists.
“With all due respect, she's no slayer, master. And I do not wish to have a successor”.
Oyakata-sama smiled.
“I kindly ask you to guide her, Sanemi. I will not force any final decision on you, if after a year you won't be willing to take her as your Tsuguko, you will be free to let her go. It would give me some peace of mind, knowing that you would be her master. She refused the offer of every other Hashira willing to train her”.
First thing he thought: what? A whole fuckin' year?
Second thing he thought: is she a dumbass? Does she even know who I am?
Third thing he thought: goddamn it. Fine, but I'll give her hell.
And he really did, give you hell. He wasn't training you to be a Tsuguko. Truth be told, he wasn't training you at all. Sanemi actually liked having students sent his way from time to time, both because of how badly they feared him and the fact that he had permission to do as he pleased. He never gifted anyone with advice or instructions, by any means. Whoever was unlucky enough to be in his presence for a supposed training session, experienced one thing and one thing only. Relentless, violent, heavy beating. Like some sort of punishment. For having been so weak and yet dumb enough to insist on being slayers. For having been arrogant enough to think they'd be able to keep up with him. For just being there, instead of living normal lives, instead of traveling far enough to leave their pitiful stories behind and start everything from scratch.
That's what he did with you as well. One day, instead of telling you to fuck off for the millionth time, he just threw a wooden bokken your way.
“On your feet”, was the harsh order.
You did as instructed, no trace of triumph or satisfaction on your stoic face. He was so ready to wipe any smile or gratification from your face, yet you never showed any. Your expression always remained impassive throughout the months. Apathetic, even. Except for when you took his harsh, brutal blows. Then you allowed yourself to let the pain break through the outer layer.
Much like every other slayer, you never received advice or instructions from Sanemi Shinazugawa. Every single day, you were mainly just beaten to a pulp. It had gotten so bad that one of the other pillars, Kocho Shinobu, insisted that you went to see her at least once a week so that she could check on your injuries.
“At this rate you're gonna get yourself killed, y/n”, she would say, sorrow evident in her worried eyes.
“I'm being trained by a Hashira. It's the greatest of honors and I am grateful”, you would reply, making her sigh in exasperation.
Just because Sanemi didn't guide you through your training, didn't necessarily mean that he was quiet either. By the end of the second month, he had called you a number of things. Weak, pathetic, delusional, a sorry ass excuse of a slayer, the stubborn bitch who insisted on wasting his time. But anger didn't consume him just because of how inexperienced you were. No, it was just you. Never complaining, never surrendering, completing each day of nothing more but tormenting beating without a single protest. Hell, even on the day he broke two of your ribs, one of your fingers, you said nothing more than “I apologize, master Shinazugawa” or “I will do better, master Shinazugawa”. You apologized a lot, promised a lot, barely saying yes master, no master, whenever he harshly demanded for an answer. But that was it. And it infuriated him. Not knowing why you wanted specifically him to train you, why you even bothered suffering so much, how you became a slayer, who were you, how the fuck did you resist all day without a single drop of water or any food. Your training went from 6am to 6pm, no rest days except if your injuries were too severe.
To make things worse, you had met his brother. And you two had hit it off, bonded by the way Sanemi treaded both of you. Each day, he allowed a break of twenty minutes, so he could consume his lunch and you could do whatever the fuck it was that you did sitting in his garden, no matter the weather. If Genya happened to pass by, he sat with you. It was the only times Sanemi could hear what your voice sounded like, actually sounded like. You talked a lot, really, and you were friendly, kind, considerate. Asking him about his training, replying to his questions. Yes, Sanemi eavesdropped, so what? His estate was silent as he ate and you two were just outside. Not that he ever stepped out to greet his brother.
“Why are you doing this?”, Genya asked you one afternoon, casually offering you an onigiri. You didn't accept it.
“Doing what? I'm training, like every other slayer”.
He scoffed.
“Don't deflect. Why this? Why him?”
You refused to look at him, suddenly feeling very small and vulnerable. Dumb, even.
“He's the harshest”.
Genya blinked at you, confused. Your half smile didn't reassure him at all.
“I deserve the harshest training, Genya. No mercy, nor pity. I don't deserve the easy way, I just need some rigid, rigorous, rough training. I know he thinks I'm not even trying, but I am. I will be better, I will succeed”.
Sitting at his table, Sanemi honestly wanted to throw his rice bowl to the back of your head. What the fuck were you on? Just what did you even mean? And how could you so foolishly convince yourself of something as impossible as succeeding?
“You think you deserve this? My brother's training is not rigid, y/n. It's brutal”, Genya's words were exuding concern, so you felt the need to smile again.
“He won't kill me, so please don't worry!”
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Sanemi kept his alarmingly violent pace until one day, after three whole months, you successfully not only guarded but even pushed back one of his blows. And then, it happened again. You had grown accustomed to how his movements cut through the air around you, you had memorized each angle he jumped on you from and the exact way his wind would tickle your cheek before the blow landed.
It shocked him. That day, it took him ten whole minutes of attacks to brutally take you down again. Then you got up and fought him. Sure, you never even managed to graze him, but it wasn't a one way only battle anymore. You were making progress, under someone who had never given you a single ounce of actual guidance.
It started gradually, so slowly he never gave you the chance to feel any excitement.
“Don't bend your knees like that, dumbass”.
“Release the tension in your shoulders, idiot”.
“Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed? Watch your goddamn back!”
“Faster”.
“Harder!”
And then, one afternoon, on month four, he put down his bokken and looked at you, pale eyes met with a familiar stern gaze.
“Good”, was all he said.
Yet, you didn't allow your heart to fill but with a little, tiny bit of pride. You still weren't good enough and you knew you had a long way to go. To prove to your parents that you were ready to go through hell, if it meant proving them that even if they were probably right about the wrong sibling having been murdered by that demon, you were willing to atone for your sin of being still alive.
Month five, and you had started to have lunch with him. Your break was now half an hour long and you got to sit at his table, something he had rudely insisted on. “I swear your stupid ass will die of dehydration before any demon gets the chance to kill it”.
Sanemi looked at you way more often than he liked to, and that's how he noticed the first time. Yet, he didn't say anything. The second time, however, he had put his chopsticks down.
“What the hell is that?”, was the question that had made you look up from your food. You followed his gaze to the bruise on your arm and cleared your throat.
“Just my negligence, master Shinazugawa. I am still unfit to-”
“Don't give me that bullshit”, he interrupted you, fuming. God, why did you never talk to him? Just say something different for once? Something true?
“That shit's not from training. Tell me”, he demanded. I never grabbed you like that.
You shook your head.
“You are mistaken, master. It is from training”.
“I am ordering you to tell me, y/n”.
Of course he knew your name. Then why was it so weird to pronounce it out loud for the first time in five months? And why was it so strange to hear him saying it? It gave you an odd sense of security. He was acknowledging you. Yet, you were firmly determined to keep your private life completely separated from your slayer one. Especially from him. You didn't want him to know anything about you, about your past, motives, fears, suffering. You had to be nothing else but a student, an empty shell. You had to conceal everything else, cause nothing else was as important as your training.
“With all due respect, master Shinazugawa, you cannot order me to tell you anything”.
Sanemi had to restrain himself from punching a hole in the table.
By month six, you almost never had to visit Shinobu anymore. Sometimes you'd do it anyway, especially if you knew that Genya was going to be there. He was the closest thing you had to a friend and you liked talking to him, as much as he liked talking to you. You were allowed one rest day per week, which was usually spent working if your parents asked you to be at the market in their place. But if they didn't, you usually visited the butterfly estate, hoping Shinobu would offer you that special green tea of hers.
Month seven and Sanemi had received another crow from Oyakata-sama. He knew he couldn't find excuses to refuse anymore. His master believed that enough time had passed for Sanemi to bring you on a mission with him, as part of your training, and he just couldn't write another she's not ready yet as a reply. So he brought you with him to the village, barking not to do anything in the slightest and just stand there watching. But neither of you had anticipated the presence of two demons. One of them successfully luring you far enough from his battle, so that he couldn't notice. You had followed a voice that was just so painfully similar to your brother's, a voice crying for help, sobs suddenly turning into maniacal laughter as it cornered you, claws and fangs in sight.
Too consumed by anger to even think about running, you drew the sword from your back. It wasn't your first time cutting a demon's head off, it was just your first time having to fight one completely on your own. Which explained the blood dripping to the ground from your stomach, from where its claws were planted just seconds before you killed it.
You had managed to breathe steadily enough to close the wound on your shoulder, but you weren't entirely sure you could to the same to stop the bleeding from your other injury.
He had found you sitting on the ground, back pressed against a tree, crimson dripping from the hands you were pressing on your stomach. Oh, he got so mad. His entire being burned with rage as he ripped part of his haori to tie it around your stomach, cursing, insulting you, mentally insulting himself for not having been able to face two threats at the same time. For being late. Just while he was trying to decide how to carry you, where to carry you to, he froze as one of your hands faintly reached his cheek, then his forehead, to gently smooth out his furrowed brows.
“Don't worry, master. It's dead. I did well”, you had managed to whisper before passing out, making him erupt in a new series of profanities as he picked you up and pressed your stomach on his back, running as fast as he could to the butterfly estate. I want to finish this year, was all he thought while sprinting across the trees. That and yes, you did well.
When you woke up, a day later, Shinobu was sitting beside you. She had gently informed you about your conditions and kindly congratulated you on the successful mission. When you tried to get up, muttering about having already skipped a whole day of training, her hands rested on your shoulders as she kept per gaze down.
“Shinazugawa-san has decided not to continue with your training”.
That was a low fucking blow. Too low, even for him. So what if you got injured? You did your job. There weren't any casualties. Hell, you were making progress. You weren't to accept such an unfair decision without fighting back, so you ignored all of Shinobu's protests as you slowly got up and made your way to his estate. At that pace, it took you five hours of walking to reach the familiar entrance. The sun was setting as you marched into the garden, where he was training on his own.
“I don't accept your decision”, you let out between gritted teeth.
“I don't give a fuck about what you do or don't accept”, Sanemi didn't even turn to look at you while you stood there, breathing heavily.
“But why? Is getting hurt considered a failure? I've been getting hurt for months. You can't do this just as I'm getting better at-”
“Getting better? It took you three months to guard for the first time and after seven months I still can't trust you on an easy, regular mission because you almost fucking died like a dumbass”, he barked, making you flinch.
Rage bubbled up in your chest as you walked over to him and snatched the blade he was holding. He let out an incredulous, mocking laugh.
“Fight me”, you growled, struggling to control your breathing. God, that wound was giving you hell.
“You can't be this much of an idiot”.
You drove the blade across his chest, not hesitating and doing it again as he easily avoided your clumsy attack. The blade was heavier than yours and it didn't grant you enough agility, so you let it fall to the ground as you decided to rely on your body instead. Your kicks cut through the air as you chased him across the garden, furious because he wasn't taking you seriously and wanted you to throw away seven months of hard work and still didn't consider you worthy enough. Tears blurred your vision as your fist was finally able to come into contact with his jaw. That's how much he doesn't care. He isn't even willing to properly attack me. Very well, then.
You quickly spun around, leg lifted, ready to land your right foot on his stupid cheekbone, but he was faster. Of course, he was faster. You were pinned to the ground in a split second, wrists held above your head, knees painfully pressing on your thighs as tears of anger and frustration rolled down your heated cheeks.
“You're bleeding, you fucking moron”, he panted, eyes almost reddened by how angry he was.
“Don't worry, I'll go find myself some other place to bleed out in peace. I won't die in your goddamn garden, master”, you spat. Hand around your wrists tightened, his jaw visibly clenched.
“Watch your fucking tone”.
“Why? You won. You're not my master anymore. Maybe I'll make you even happier and leave the corps, so you won't be my superior either. Let me go”, you wiggled uselessly under his iron grip.
So, this is finally you, he thought. The cracks of your impeccable discipline and deference had finally let something raw, real, leak through. His lips curled up in a pleased smirk and it was a good fucking thing you could not see it, face stubbornly facing his mansion, eyes avoiding his.
He didn't know, what had made him tell Shinobu that he was done training you. After spending almost 24 hours at her estate, impatiently waiting for you to open up those big, stupidly bright eyes of yours, he just felt that he didn't want to do it anymore. He didn't want to take you on missions, he didn't want to guide you towards a future of battles, injuries, death. He didn't give a fuck if you thought that it was the kind of path you wanted, no, you deserved.
Your unexpected progress had startled him. Your improvement gave him no escape. He had never met someone so ridiculously stubborn, burning with such determination to be willing to be beaten every single day, month after month. It had been hell, yet you kept up. Without disclosing a single fragment of yourself, you kept up. Sanemi had to gather some pieces and put them together on his own: he came to know about your friendliness and wit through Genya, discovered your kindness through everything Shinobu would ramble about while stitching him up. And then, there was everything else he had both guessed and witnessed during those seven months. Determination, fury, discipline, intelligence, endurance, talent.
He had already changed his mind as soon as he had arrived to his estate. Not even his stubborn temper would've been enough to convince him to disappoint Oyakata-sama, especially after making a commitment. He was well aware of how much he cared about him and the other pillars, especially about them guiding and helping other slayers. He took great pride in all of his children and had waited a long time for Sanemi to be willing to actually train someone, to pass his legacy on. He wasn't going to bail out on his master, truth be told he didn't want to bail out on you either. Not after everything you had willingly went through. Not after you had almost fucking died on him. Not after all your shared meals, your daily “good morning, master Shinazugawa” and your ridiculous “thank you for today's training, master Shinazugawa”, even with broken ribs or fractured ankle. Not after the first “excuse me, master Shinazugawa, are you okay?” when he had greeted you with bandages wrapped around his torso.
“Can you let me go already?”, you snapped again, your attempts at freeing yourself getting weaker by the minute.
Sanemi's eyes traveled to your stomach, specifically to the wet, red spot on your uniform. He let go of your wrists but kept you down, letting out an exasperated growl.
“I said, watch your fucking mouth”.
You scoffed.
“You're not-”
“I am your master and you will shut the fuck up if I tell you so. You will let me check that injury, then you'll eat something and go to bed, I will have the guest room prepared. I want you up before sunrise, we're gonna start practicing breathing forms tomorrow”. So you can learn how not to bleed out in my goddamn garden.
You were at a loss for words but, for the first time, you also failed to suppress a content smile. A smile that forced him to get up and look away. It took a very long time after that night for Sanemi to admit that he was guarding, during your dumb assault. He was guarding, and you still managed to land a blow on him.
Month eight and he was barely able to catch you during your training sessions. Even with a blindfold on, you could sense his movements well enough to avoid his attacks and successfully land a few on him. You were fast, even while using his heavy sword, so fast you were able to complete the one hundred round runs around his estate each morning and afternoon in half the time he expected you to.
Month nine and Sanemi had learned about your parents abusing you. You couldn't blame any more bruises on your training, so you had reluctantly told him that sometimes you disappointed your father and it was simply his duty to teach you a lesson so that you wouldn't make the same mistake again. He honestly didn't know what made him feel more furious: if your asshole parents or your stupid, familiar, self destructive mindset.
“You're gonna stay here”, he had decided one day, during your lunch break. You only ate and drank if he offered you something, which made him think that your parents didn't want you taking anything with you before you left the house. Christ.
“Where?”, you had asked, stunned.
“There's a spare room”.
“I really can't, master”.
Sanemi took a deep breath in.
“You're gonna stay here. Go get your things and come back by sunset, your training's finished today”.
The confusion was evident in your apologetic gaze.
“But... I don't think I have ever been late? I get up very early to be here on time, my house is not that far away and I-”
“I'm sick of you showing up here beaten and bruised and not willing to do shit about it. So I'll do something about it”, he snapped, eyes very much focused on his curry.
You didn't look at him either.
“I can't leave them”, you muttered slowly, too surprised to realize that, for the first time in almost a year, your master was showing some form of concern.
And so you told him everything about your stupid, pathetic life. You told him about your brother, the absurd beliefs you gave in to, the reason why you wanted to become a better slayer so badly. Sanemi hid his clenched fists under the table, listening in silence. Listening for a whole hour and then, incredibly, telling you in turn. Not everything, but enough. He was a man of his word, after all, and your training that day was already finished.
Sanemi was overly conscious of the fact that there were only three months left before he had to make a decision. He kept updating his master about your progress, always sharing nothing but the truth, with a bitter taste longing in his mouth, in the back of his thoughts, something that kept him up at night, especially if you happened to be there. In the end, you had partially accepted his offer, just after asking your parents for permission of course. Each week, you would spend the night at his estate for two days. The relief he felt, knowing that you would be far from your parents for a while, wasn't enough to soothe his spirit. Not when he could hear you, at night. Whether you quietly walked out of the bedroom next to his at 3am to go and sit on the engawa until sunrise just to greet him with a joyful “good morning, master! I woke up early today”, or you just screamed until you woke yourself up. He had always heard everything, never gathering up enough courage to confront you about it.
Sanemi wished for a world in which someone like you didn't have nightmares, didn't feel like they had to go through his infernal training to make up for the fact of being still alive. As much as he would've preferred getting stabbed a hundred times before admitting it, he also wished for a world in which he didn't have to go through all that shit either. A world in which he could've met someone like you under different circumstances. Someone who could have called him by his name at that point, no stupid ass honorifics, meals shared while having actual conversation, a household shared with you and his brother who maybe could have just a little bit made up for the loss of yours. Sanemi knew he couldn't make up for shit. Not for the way he had treated you, cause it wasn't far from what your parents had done. Not for the loss of your brother, cause he had never been a good one. And, well, he certainly didn't want to be a brother to you.
By month eleven, you knew you were finally good enough to officially become his Tsuguko and stay by his side. You felt like he knew that too. But was it going to be enough for him to... actually want you? Sparring sessions had become much shorter, he only managed to land a couple of blows on you each day and you were finally able to reciprocate. The rest of the time, he would sit and watch you practice all the katas he had teached you. Harsh corrections were still being barked your way, but you could tell that deep down he was actually satisfied with your progress. So you finally allowed yourself to feel some pride. What you didn't allow yourself, was to feel anything else. Not when your master had made it a habit to get up and sit with you in the middle of the night, not a word nor an explanation escaping his mouth. Not when he had remembered your birthday and had proceeded to shove a plate full of ohagi in front of you at the end of your training session. Not in the moment you had catched his half smile as he had watched you successfully master his breathing technique for the first time. Definitely not every time your heart would beat alarmingly faster whenever he was close enough your hands could've touched by accident.
What a disappointment, you were. The path you had chosen to undertake with such resolution and discipline, had brought you unexpected, unwanted feelings for someone you were supposedly going to become the successor of. It didn't help, the fact that he was everything he was trying so hard not to be. Your master was considerate, sharp, unfortunately extremely good looking as well. But he was also in pain. He was someone who constantly punished himself, someone who didn't care about his life as long as he could save civilians or other slayers. Someone who didn't think he deserved to have anything. Not friends, not a brother, not a family. No relief, nor happiness, ever. Your master was harsh, brutal, lethal. Then why was it so easy for you to see beauty in him? To seek more than his approval? Why did you hope so badly that you hadn't fooled yourself, all those times you saw him stare at you from the corner of your eye? Why did you so badly want to share the burden of your vulnerabilities, make them merge, discover if they were compatible enough to keep each other company?
Sanemi couldn't figure out how you came to know about his birthday, too startled to remember you were friends with Genya. He had brought his gift early in the morning, wished him a happy birthday, reminded him of how much he loved his older brother. Sanemi had rolled his eyes and reluctantly accepted the wolf carved in wood Genya had been so eager to give him.
“It kinda reminds me of you, aniki”.
“Cause I could slash your throat under the fuckin' moonlight?”
Genya had done his best to hide his surprise at Sanemi almost cracking what honestly sounded like a joke.
“Well, yeah”, he faintly smiled, “but mainly because of how strong and protective you are”.
“Whatever. Get lost now”.
But he couldn't ask you to get lost when after lunch you pulled out a basket of fresh fruit and what looked like a handmade journal with a leather cover. You had never smiled at him like that, in such an embarrassed yet cheerful way.
“I hope this is not inappropriate. The fruit is from our market, I believe you once said you don't mind peaches, and this is just something I have made last night cause I couldn't think of anything else as a suitable gift. Happy birthday, master!”, you extended the basket towards him, struggling to keep eye contact because you were frankly terrified of the possibility of angering him. On his birthday.
But Sanemi just couldn't be angry while accepting your gifts with a barely audible “thank you”. He had promptly put the basket aside, cleared his throat and urged you to resume your training, cause he wanted to take his time. That day, after you had left his estate, his hands had gently grazed the cover of the journal, having to resist the urge to destroy it. Why should I keep something like this, anyway? I can't even use it. Goddamn it, of all people you could've made this for. But of course, he didn't. He couldn't. He hated and he was so scared of just how much he couldn't.
Month twelve, and you were sitting on the engawa at reasonable distance from him, having accepted the suggestion of consuming your takoyaki outdoor. He had turned to look at the entrance of his garden first, suddenly so vigilant you had turned as well, anxiety and fear clenching your stomach. Neither of you could anticipate the white shiba inu that had trotted your way, tail wagging so much you failed to hide your smile.
“Where the hell did you come from?”, Sanemi's unusually soft tone as he let the dog sniff his hand almost shocked you. You couldn't help but get closer, still smiling.
“Oh, you're beautiful”, the dog had probably understood that your tone had implied a compliment, cause it barked happily as you gently scraped behind its ears.
“Master, do you think someone lost it?”
“I-”, Sanemi's reply was harshly cut short as the shiba decided that both of your laps were the ideal place for it to hop onto to take a nap. Your cheeks had definitely grown hotter as you had noticed just how close the position had brought you to him, shoulders grazing, both of your faces frozen in embarrassment. Well, you were embarrassed. He was probably just fuming.
“Uh, sorry. Maybe we could just get up? I don't think it would be a problem”, your suggestion was barely muttered, drenched in the hope of your master not snapping at you.
But Sanemi had done nothing but let out a heavy sigh, hands distractly traveling across the dog's soft fur.
“I would like you to stay here”.
You had turned to look at him, appalled, heart suddenly beating furiously against your ribcage.
“You... accept me?”, your voice nothing but a faint whisper.
The pause had been so long it made you think you had imagined his words. But then he looked up from his lap, not at you, just over his garden as if you hadn't been sitting the closest you've ever sat next to him.
“I still haven't decided that. What I mean is, I don't want you here as my Tsuguko. I just... want you here as you”.
Month twelve and you were on a mission with your master again, this time ready as ever not to disappoint him. Ready to face anything with him, really. Ready to face anything except that woman, once again so dangerously close to your village. The gorgeous woman who had lured your brother out of his house, left him alive, hurt him long enough to force him to scream your name over and over again, just to slash his throat the minute you had managed to reach them.
Sanemi knew the second your breath had hitched in your throat, as soon as your lips had lost pigment. He knew from the cold sweat your forehead had suddenly been covered in. Although he ached to get it done and get it gone quickly, he knew he should've let you have it. He was there anyway, ready to intervene.
“Get the bitch”, was the only thing he said and you just felt ignited. You had never cut a demon's head off so quickly, so lethally. For just a split second, Sanemi thought you were a sight to behold, practicing his breathing technique perfectly, angrily, fiercely. And then you fell apart, crumbling on the ground as ashes flew around you, some of them getting caught up in your hair.
Sanemi knelt in front of you, took the blade out of your hands and tossed it to the side.
“It's fine. You're fine. You did a good job”.
Your sobs just wouldn't stop as you hid your face in your hands, shaking, feeling so cold and so numb and so angry at how easily it had been over.
“I did it all wrong, she should've suffered, she should've known it was me”, you whispered and it broke his heart, the way he couldn't recognize your voice. We're all so fucking broken.
Sanemi didn't think, he just placed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, holding in a sigh of relief as you grabbed his haori and clenched your fists around it.
“I'm proud of you”, he said, eyes still closed cause it was easier telling the truth in the dark.
It was strange, not feeling embarrassed when your forehead found his shoulder and he hesitantly placed a hand on the nape of your neck, allowing your tears and the blood that had splattered on your face to stain his haori. When he lightly turned his head to the side and his nose grazed your hair, he closed his eyes again. I wish I could've met you in a different way. I wish I could've treated you right.
Month twelve and Sanemi couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt ever again. However, he never allowed himself to forget just how much he had hurt you either. It served as a reminder of how undeserving of whatever you were willing to give him, he was. Still, he knew you were willing to give. Weren't you always?
Month twelve, and you were a perfect fit to become his successor. But Sanemi hadn't changed his mind, he still didn't want to make you his Tsuguko, although for reasons that were entirely different from the ones he held when he had first met you.
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honeybuv · a day ago
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𝓖𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 
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Warnings: finger fucking, squirting, tag teaming, [mentioned] sadism, [fem] reader, subspace
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𝓚𝔂𝓸𝓳𝓾𝓻𝓸 𝓡𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓸𝓴𝓾
-Remember that scene where he strangled that kid? (that should've been me tbh) Imagine that but he's pulling on your hair.
-Flushed out face, clinging onto his thighs for dear life, and let's not forget the obvious loud plapping noises as drool drops from your chin to your chest.
-In my au, I see him as a bit of a sadist when it comes to the bedroom; So expect some very rough slapping and manhandling of your face, neck and body in general.
-But he's very willing to stop, calm down or switch positions if you ask him nicely; by either grabbing onto his hands or saying the 'safe' word.
-He also looks like the type of guy to be very loud and open about it, fucking you infront of an open window, or in a public space (forests, park, you name it). And a good majority of the time it's either Giyuu, Shinobu, sometimes Zenitsu (he doesn't see it, he hears it accidentally).
-If someone were to actually want to join in and tag team you, Tengen is always there and surprisingly, Giyuu as well; Sometimes all three of them jump you at an unexpected time which always leaves with your clothes torn up, face flushed and ruin of makeup and paralysis.
-Of course after this he's gonna be your average, cute sweetheart and help you; giving you cuddles, slow make-out sessions, feeding you food and giving you a nice, warm bath.
Roughness level: 7/10
Freakiness level: 8/10
Sweetheart level: 10/10
Horniness level: 9/10
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𝓣𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓷 𝓤𝔃𝓾𝓲
-Not really rough, but not really soft, just inbetween.
-There are times where he's just lazy and wants a bj so he just, asks nicely. By lifting you up and and carrying you to the nearest couch/bed and taking off whatever pants, skirt or dress you're wearing. Extra points if you're not wearing any panties underneath.
-What's a guy without his girls? is his motto, as you best believe you're sharing that cock with either one of the girls, whom of which is Hina.
-Suma is definitely gonna be the one eating you out while you suck him off; Makio is definitely going to town riding his tongue and Hina is sharing his cock with you.
-However if you just want him for a while he can deal with that; Petting your hair and comforting you as you take your time to stuff him in your mouth.
-He's willing to give you the same pleasure you give him back as well. Finger fucking you till you squirt, mess with your clit as he uses his fingers to drive you up a wall, basically anything.
-Who's a man to not please his woman?
Roughness level: 8-9/10
Freakiness level: ∞
Sweetheart level: 10/10
Horniness level: ∞
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𝓜𝓲𝓽𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓲 𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓻𝓸𝓳𝓲
-Very soft and it goes both ways
-She loves to give than to receive when it comes to giving you pleasure.
-Kissing up your scars, loves to grab n caress your ass. Basically a huge fan of touch in general.
-However, if you were to switch things up she'd go into subspace so fast that it's really adorable when she does.
-Major Pillow princess alert.
-Will hide her face in pillows if she can. Sometimes you have to move it from her face otherwise she might accidentally stifle herself hiding her adorable face from you.
-Also a major turn on for her is when you're praising her; Call her your good girl and pretty princess and she's total puddy in your hands.
-Very scared of hurting you or getting hurt; she doesn't wanna see bruises or scars that were inflicted by her :(
-Not really a freak; very tame for some reason which is kinda sad cuz you wanted to actually see her get angry and ravish you.
Roughness Level: 3/10
Freakiness Level: 4/10
Sweetheart Level: ∞
Horniness Level: 6/10
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©𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐛𝐮𝐯 2022; All rights reserved
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xxsabitoxx · a day ago
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Good Girl {Teaser}
Giyu x Fem! Reader
Warnings: full fic will contain smut & proper warnings!
A/N: alright one more teaser, I’ll be working on this fic + the Nanami fic! I hope to have both of them done before or by mid-June!
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“You should have seen him, you barely left anything to the imagination. Even Tengen was eating you up, as if the bastard doesn’t have three wives to satisfy his needs.” The heel of Giyu’s palm began rubbing rough circles. Not really aiming for your clit, he just wanted to hear the slick noises you were already beginning to make. “Listen to that, what an attention whore. I bet you’d fucking strip naked and fuck yourself with your own fingers if they asked you too.” A harsh laugh left him as he felt your cunt contract and twitch, you were loving this. “You’re so fucked up.” The grin on his face was cold, palm digger deeper and making you yelp into his hand.
“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” His voice had dropped an octave, his volume lowering with it. You nodded shamelessly, the idea of getting off in front of the other pillar men had you giddy. Especially since you knew it pissed Giyu off to no end. “Tell me…” he lifted his hand off your mouth. “What would you do? Describe it for me…” the hand that had been on your mouth hand lowered to your breast. “What I’d do? Y-you want me to describe how I’d fuck myself?” He nodded, squeezing the tender flesh and liking the way you stuttered. “And I’m the fucked up one…” you were breathless as he stopped palming you. Instead his hand moved to slip under the waistband of your panties, making contact with bare flesh.
“Oh~” you swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself enough to speak. “I’d probably start with a strip tease, but only my top. I’d want them to see my bare breasts fall from my binding. See the way my nipples would harden from the cool air and my own hormones.” Two fingers slipped between slick folds, easily finding your clit and pinching. “Keep going, little slut. Be a good girl for me and continue.” Your eyes fluttered, cheeks growing hot as Giyu found a balance between rubbing and pinching your clit. “I’d play with my tits…In the way they wish they could. Squeezing them, pinching my own nipples, moaning their names…”
The idea of Tengen, Sanemi and Kyojuro watching you play with yourself had you clenching around nothing at all. “Keep going.” Giyu’s hips were restless, you could tell part of him wanted to abandon your breast and palm himself. So you did him a favor, hand tugging at his belt. “I’d tease myself until I was dripping…willing to grind on anything that would relieve the ache I felt.” You got the belt undone with the help of your other hand, to your surprise, Giyu allowed you to toss the material to the side. You didn’t hesitate shoving your hand under the waistband of his uniform pants, making contact with his throbbing cock. “You aren’t wearing…” he cut you off by pinching your clit harshly, earning a gasp.
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annie-jpg55 · a day ago
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Missing rengoku so I imagine him hiking hours
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tomiokasensei · 2 days ago
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TOMIOKA GIYŪ + colour palette
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silverynight · 2 days ago
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The curse
After Kagaya finds a boy named Zenitsu for Nezuko to get married and Tanjirou realizes that she likes him too, he honestly stops caring too much about his own situation.
But his older brother cares about him and the curse upon the Ubuyashiki family members that will kill Tanjirou eventually (sometimes it hits when they're really young, but the lucky ones don't feel its presence lurking until they're eighteen, like in his case) if he doesn't find someone to get married to and changes his last name.
"It's alright. Don't worry about me," Tanjirou smiles at him; he knows he can't see his face, but he can hear the smile in his voice. "I'm just glad Nezuko is safe now."
"Me too, Tanjirou," Kagaya grins back, caressing the boy's cheek gently. "But I don't want anything to happen to you either."
"I don't want to... make people miserable," he mumbles, feeling suddenly shy. "An arranged marriage doesn't usually lead to happiness. I just... I don't want someone to agree to make me their husband only because they have to."
"The hashira are good people," Kagaya says and Tanjirou can smell in his scent that he truly believes it. "They'll take care of you, you'll be safe with them. Trust me. However, if it makes you feel better, I'll encourage them to be honest. You worry too much, little one; you're really easy to love."
Tanjirou honestly doubts it, if there's someone in their family who's like that is Nezuko and Kagaya himself.
But if one of them chooses him, he'll do his best to make them happy.
***
He can smell the irritation coming from some of them; they're not sure about it, even if it's Kagaya himself the one asking them to consider it. When his older brother asks him to come out, Tanjirou walks towards the front yard and notices that all the hashira are now standing in front of his brother; he bows because he respects every single one, even though he hasn't met them personally before.
"I'm Ubuyashiki Tanjirou," he mumbles with a smile. "I'm Kagaya-san's younger brother. I know he's talked to you about our situation and the curse before and I know how much you respect my brother, but please do not do this just because of your sense of duty... If none of you want to marry me, I'll understand. I just want to be with someone who really wants me."
His answer is only silence; Tanjirou gets nervous and a little bit sad knowing that's a rejection. However, when he looks up at them he realizes they are staring at him with a weird expression on their faces. There are a couple of sweet scents filling the air, but Tanjirou doesn't know what they mean and he's too flustered to think about it.
For some reason, Kagaya looks amused.
He bows again, ready to walk back inside; it's alright, at least he gets to be with his family for a little bit longer or the time he's left if he doesn't find a spouse.
"Thank you so much for considering it. I understand your decision, you deserve to be happy for all what you have done for this family and people in general."
He's ready to go when someone almost stumbles in his desperation to get to him quickly; fortunately the twins, his nieces, have talked to him a couple of times about the Pillars and their names.
So Tanjirou knows the one taking both his hands in his and grinning from ear to ear at him is Rengoku.
"I'll marry you, my boy!" The flame hashira says, bringing their foreheads together.
For a moment, the only thing that Tanjirou does is to blink in surprise and confusion before he smiles back because he can smell sincerity in Rengoku's scent.
"Thank you!" He beams, prompting the other to blush. "I'll try to make you happy!"
"You already–"
"Wait," the water hashira cuts him off, drawing Tanjirou's attention. "Please consider me as well, I'd like to marry you..."
"Don't listen to them. You need someone who can protect you," Shinazugawa looks at him before turning to Tanjirou's brother. "You know I'm the best option, Oyakata-sama."
"I can protect him too," Himejima protests, surprising Tanjirou.
"I'd gladly give you my last name, Tanjirou," Kocho smiles, managing to move Rengoku out of the way to kiss the boy's hand.
"Marry me, pretty boy!"
"You have three wives already, Tengen!" One of them hisses viciously, like a serpent... That's probably Iguro if Tanjirou remembers correctly.
"And that's why I'm the best option to do this, I have experience," Uzui grins, winking at Tanjirou.
The love hashira jumps into his arms before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Choose me, Tanjirou!"
"He's mine, I want him," the mist hashira declares, making Tanjirou blush to the tip of his ears.
Tanjirou looks at all of them overwhelmed and very much confused; they all smell like they're being honest and they actually want to marry him, but he doesn't understand why... They just met him.
"Perhaps you should start courting him so he can choose," Kagaya mumbles, amusement written all over his face.
"That's an excellent idea!" Rengoku says as the others agree and Tanjirou panics because how is he going to choose?
How did he end up in a situation like this?
***
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noisylovepatrol · 21 hours ago
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Kimetsu no Yaiba Post Card
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mc-pepi · 2 days ago
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THE BOY
(Also I'M BACK)
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sailor-moon-rei · 2 days ago
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by  倔强汪JJW
art republished with artist’s permission
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meowzfordayz · a day ago
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Author’s Note: procrastinate writing by writing? #procrastinate writing by writing
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Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader
Word Count: ~1,700
CW: Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
~faqs/suggestions~
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Isn’t a huge drinker
Nonetheless, enjoys the pleasant ambience of a drink or two
Doesn’t mind sitting at the bar of a restaurant if the main dining area is full
The type to make overly enthusiastic small talk with the bartender
Also the type to order whatever you order
Isn’t a huge drinker = relies on your expertise
“I’m literally not an expert though?”
“That is fine! I believe in you!”
“Thanks?”
“I will have whatever she is having!” Kyojuro smiles brightly, cocktail menu untouched.
“So two Flaming Gorillas,” the bartender nods.
“Pardon-” Two what?
“You don’t want a Flaming Gorilla?” How are they saying that with a straight face? “She ordered a Flaming Gorilla. Would you like something else?” the bartender offers, not unkindly. Possibly noticing your failing attempt to hide your giggles.
“Oh no, a Flaming Gorilla sounds delicious!”
“It’s peppermint and coffee technically peppermint schnapps, Kahlua (coffee liquor), and Bacardi, but you don’t want to confuse him,” you take ~some pity on him.
“Exactly!” he exclaims, “Delicious!”
Shaking their head amusedly, the bartender nods again, “Of course.”
As soon as they turn around, Kyojuro stares at you. He suspects you’re up to something, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly. Sure Flaming Gorilla is an… odd, name, but its flavor profile is intriguing — certainly not displeasurable?
“Love,” he’s hesitant, fearful of accidentally offending you.
“Hm, Kyo?” you grin a little too widely (not that he doesn’t adore your wide grins!), eyes twinkling, equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying.
“Why did you order a Flaming Gorilla?”
You snort, “I like mint.”
“And coffee?” he feels like he’s catching on…
“And coffee,” you wink.
Oh “You’re teasing me,” Kyojuro states, tone neutral. Suspicious. 
“Only a bit,” you poke his shoulder, giggles finally escaping as your face scrunches happily.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he’s still staring, rare flicker in his gaze as he watches how beautifully, perfectly, you celebrate your success, adorable hiccups jostling your body, “Love?”
“Y-yeah?” you barely manage to gasp, on the verge of clutching your chest as unabashed laughter threatens to burst.
“First, I am happy that I can provide such entertainment for you,” he chuckles fondly, voice lowering to a calm, assured tone, “And second, I believe you are forgetting how unyielding I can be when I tease back.”
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Hates the bar
Hates how loud it is
Hates how dirty it is
Hates how overpriced it is
Hates the sleazy patrons
Hates the inattentive bartenders
Maybe he just hasn’t gone to the right bar? 
HOWEVER
You getting ready to go to the bar?
Yeah
He loves that a lot
“Red or black?” you hold up two dresses for Sanemi — who’s lying on the bed, feet dangling off the end, head propped contently on a few of your Annoyingly puffy damn it throw pillows.
“Red,” because he adores how vibrantly—deeply—it accentuates your figure.
“Shoes?”
“Heels,” because your legs are one of the only distractions he willingly tolerates, “But not too high,” because he cares about your comfort. Although sometimes he chooses High knowing he’ll get to carry you once your feet begin hurting. It’s a delicate balance: obnoxious PDA versus the smug, tender satisfaction of holding you.
“You’re not even dressed yet,” your brows furrowing pointedly, “Why are you still in bed?”
“Because I’m helping you,” he states matter-of-factly, sly glint barely restrained, “And because I can get dressed in about two minutes.”
“You’re the reason I take so long,” you huff.
“I appreciate you listening to my opinions,” he smiles nonchalantly, poorly feigning oblivion.
“Are we actually going to make it to the bar this time?” you roll your eyes, dresses tossed aside in mock defeat as you walk toward the bed.
“Not if you never get dressed.”
I’m totally going to wipe that grin off your stupid face you hum cheerfully, eyes narrowing as you rest your thighs against the mattress.
“I’m not getting dressed until you get up,” you declare, hands reaching subtly, teasingly, for his chest.
“Then I guess we aren’t making it to the bar,” your hands don’t go unnoticed as Sanemi’s stare sharpens.
Anticipation. Enthrallment. Seduction.
“We’re not?” you pout coyly, fingertips ghosting across his pectorals, relishing the crisp attraction of his perfectly ironed shirt. This man irons everything because he enjoys being responsible for later dishevelment. Every wrinkle, every crease, is evidence of his—of your—desire.
A low groan vibrates under your fingertips, slender fingers wrapping gently, demandingly, around your wrists, guiding you impatiently, hungry, to plush lips.
“Absolutely not.”
You’re inclined to agree as Sanemi sucks on the tip of your index finger, tongue hot and delicate; nuzzles into your palm, warm breaths erratic and vulnerable; nips at your pulse, melting your resolve as he mouths at your goosebumps; kisses along your knuckles, licking between them, grazing, torturous ministrations; grinning triumphantly as you cave. Sanemi’s grin: 1. You: 0.
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Goes to the bar because you want to go
And he wants to go wherever you go (within reason, of course — he isn’t codependent!)
Not exactly nervous
More so overstimulated
Who knew there were so many kinds of rum? as he eyes the shelves of liquor behind the bar And whiskey? fingertips digging gently into your hip, grounding himself Why is that green?
Trusts you to order for him
He’s the DD (designated driver) anyway
But you always encourage him to try new things (i.e. new drinks), and he always ends up enjoying whatever you introduce him to
Is constantly struck by the tenderness and intimacy of how well you know him — of how well you gauge his tastes, likes, dislikes
“We could’ve made these at home,” you smile softly, tone playful even as your gaze prods.
You’re tucked against a wall at a tiny, round high table, stools facing each other, condensed droplets lazily sliding down the sides of your glasses, coasters damp and sticky.
“You just want to continue curating our liquor cabinet,” he deflects your concern, returning his own gaze Please don’t let my social anxiety me ruin your evening.
“True,” you giggle, licking cutely at the sugar rim of your drink, “And I also want you to be comfortable.”
Deflection’s always futile when it comes to your intuition.
“I’m very comfortable,” he declares, taking a dramatic swig of his drink, winking exaggeratedly afterwards.
“Well now I’m uncomfortable,” you grin widely, cheeks flushed as you roll your eyes fondly, “That was quite un-Giyuu-esque.”
“I’m a little uncomfortable,” he shrugs, regretting the sharp tang at the back of his throat, doing his best to refrain from wincing, “But you want to be here,” his voice lightens, affection tempering the alcohol’s burn, “And I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you too,” you chuckle quietly How am I this lucky?
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he reassures you, stare unwavering, the surrounding din ebbing from his focus, sapphire glint locked only—solely—on you.
“Except for at home in bed asleep with me as your big spoon,” you smirk knowingly, laughter bubbling in your chest at Giyuu’s immediate, affronted expression. “Let’s just finish these drinks, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
Because I will stay here until they turn the lights on his dedication—devotion—evident in the way he searches the warmth of your offer. Ensuring its sincerity. Ensuring you’re happy. If that’s what you want?
“I’m one hundred percent sure,” you nod.
And suddenly, Giyuu realizes all over again that you might be sure about more than just leaving the bar with him. You might be—you are—sure about him. 
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He’s immediately intrigued by your perfectly fine thank you very much lonely silhouette, elbows perched neatly on the bartop, legs crossing and uncrossing as you sip slowly—steadily—on your drink
Decides he’d like to get your number, and maybe even your name
Puffs into his hand first to make sure his breath smells ~divine
Shakes out his hair (countless people have told him he looks better with his hair down), then puts it in a bun (countless people have also told him he looks better with his hair up), aaand then shakes it out again
Notices your mindful posture
Okay, so, no cliche pickup line(s)
Inhales, exhales
Confident strides!
“Is this seat taken?” large hands enter your peripheral, suave smoothness cutting through your wistful bored daydreaming.
“No,” you raise an unimpressed eyebrow, gesturing vaguely to the empty barstool, not bothering to glance over, “Does it look taken?”
“Um,” Tengen chuckles awkwardly, wishing you’d just look at him and his pretty face, “No?”
“So are you going to sit?” you snort.
“I feel like you don’t want me to,” he retorts, only slightly irked because he knows you’d be instantly smitten if you’d just look at him.
“I don’t care either way,” you shrug, “It’s a bar.”
“You sound thrilled that it’s a bar,” he mutters, settling beside you despite his sarcasm, eager to see the color of your eyes.
“I’d rather be home with a lover, but I’m lacking one of those two things,” you drawl bluntly, faint smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth Which is why I’m here, obviously and unfortunately.
“What kind of lover?” he asks softly, “Just for tonight?” leaning closer.
For whatever reason, you don’t recoil, caught off guard by the pleasant trace of sweet grass and warm amber meandering languidly from the collar of his shirt to your scrunched nose. Somehow, nothing about this man is overpowering or underwhelming. Curiosity seeps into your disinterest; the tips of your ears hot when you tilt your glass to finish your drink; searing, insatiable sensation licking from your clavicle to your throat to your jaw. You know he’s watching—devouring—you.
“For as many nights as he deserves,” you murmur, “As many nights as he can earn.”
“Look at me,” he’s gentle interlaced with promising — interlaced with tantalizing, “Let me look at you.”
“Haven’t you been doing that this whole-” your intended quip falters as you swallow thickly Such large hands, “This whole time?”
You look at him.
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sjhanny2000 · a day ago
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Fights and Sweet Touches (Part 2)
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A/N: First of all, thank you for all the love and support you've given me for this story! It has been a joy to talk with some of you and to hear your thoughts and to snag some potential story affecting materials lol! Also, we've finally hit over 500 followers which is huge to me so thank you! I hope you guys like this part just as much as the last!
Warning(s): ANGST, hurt no comfort, mention of spousal arguments, mention of child neglect, fratricide, self deprecation, mentioned child death, mentioned child abuse, graphic descriptions, gore
Word Count: 3.6k+
Tag-List:
@mshope16
@milkyanon @simpforerensattacktitan @trashfox @midnightmystic @ink-dot-kay @misshale21 @savagemickey03 @honeyhoneyhonie @hnm-mika @bittersw33t-lotus @hyuckie-s @firsthokage @happycandynoelle @duffyalamode @xadri3nn3x @splaterparty0-0 @thatcatladywrites @raylovessarcasm @little-bunnybabe @rosechvnel @the-celestial-kitsune @chl0rinewater @milkbttle @igobypersonorthing @shiphappen-s
If your tag didn't work, I apologize! Tagging with Tumblr can get a bit messy!
~~~
It is well-known that in moments of great emotion, whether it be sadness, anger, or excitement, some things spoken into reality are ones not intended or rather, should have never been uttered. Those kinds of words can either build or destroy, acting as supports or as blazing fires to a situation, it all falling on the speaker’s shoulders to choose how the scene before them will play out. 
His tongue seemed to be the spark to a flame more days than not now. 
“I am sorry to have been such a burden to you, Tengen-sama. It was never my intention to cause you nor your wives so much grief. I-I’ll ensure my things are packed and ready for transport by sundown, so as to not add to your building responsibilities, my lord.”
If he was truly honest with himself, Tengen did not believe you would do such a thing, leaving the estate, leaving them. He had let you leave him on the engawa, his hands curled into fists and his breaths short and quick with exertion, an overwhelming ocean of emotions overrunning his senses as painful waves of memories crashed repeatedly into the rocky shores of his mental defenses. At that moment, he didn’t realize exactly what he had said, what the consequences it would bring. Tengen had marched off in a rage instead, ninchurin blades burning hotly into his shoulder blades whilst the sounds of the world screamed relentlessly at him, only ceasing to exist the moment he unsheathed his swords and set to work attacking the practice dummies out in the field. When his body finally had enough, bruised, worn, and pushed past its limits once again, the sun had set and the estate had fallen into a lull, readying itself for a peaceful night ahead. He should have checked in on you, attempted to make some kind of apology or at least try to speak with you, but Tengen allowed his anger tainted stubbornness to influence his decisions, ones that led to him sleeping alone that night after a light and silent supper left out for him in the kitchen. The truth behind your words didn’t truly sink him until early the next morning, when everything fell apart before his very eyes. 
“Tengen-sama! We’re home!” 
 Removing his gaze from the destroyed training dummy now laying at his feet in what seemed to be at least a hundred pieces, the Sound Hashira found himself looking to the entrance of the training area with a fond smile. The morning had been quiet so far, having only heard the kakushi and estate staff moving about doing their assigned duties; he assumed you must have remained in bed or were simply deliberate in silencing your movements to avoid his attention. He had taken that assumption with stride and unleashed the suffocating emotions he couldn’t even begin to identify right then on the still functioning training gear, though little of it remained now. 
Such an assumption would prove to be his downfall. 
Suma rushed up to the hashira with a blubbering wail, the blue eyed kunoichi wrapping her arms around his sweaty neck. “We missed you so much Tengen-sama!” 
“Would you get off of him, you big cry baby?!” Haughty as ever, Makio approached the two of them with Hinatsuru in tow, the fiery kunoichi glaring daggers of disapproval at her fellow sister wife. “We saw him less than sixteen hours ago at the Butterfly Estate!” 
Their assigned mission hadn’t been a particularly difficult one persay; however, the filthy demon had proven herself to be quite crafty with her blood art, possessing flare that nearly made Tengen feel sorry for the poor monster. In the end, the girls had been left a bit more battered than his person, which had prompted the three of them to insist that Tengen return home where you were waiting. He had been eager, ecstatic even, to see you, the toll of being separated from your wonderfully unique and flashy growing heavy with time, and everything had been fine between the two of you upon arrival. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t. 
“Want you, Tengen, want your baby!”
The topic of children, let alone family planning, was like a sucker punch to the gut for the shinobi. His body had gone rigid the moment those off-key words struck his ear drums, stomach churning in distaste whilst it became hard to breath, bile creeping up his throat in protest. 
Family was a bitter pill that Tengen found hard to swallow. 
Having been raised within a shinobi clan, Tengen had never been given the chance to experience what being a family truly was or childhood for that matter. His father had been a cold and bloodthirsty individual, incapable of feeling emotion or listening to reason when given it, having been so steadfast in being superior, in being the savior of the Uzui clan that he decided to practically ensure their extinction. The man had sent all three of Tengen’s mothers’ into early graves through continuous, non-stop pregnancies and verbal and physical beatings, ones that often left them laying on the ground or in their beds, unable to move due to the overwhelming pain, whether it be mentally or bodily. Tengen had been present when his birth mother passed away, a mere toddler who had no business in watching one of his parents leave this world as one of his sisters entered it with a deafening wail. 
“It seems I was right about you after all, Tenko.” Father gazed at his newly dead wife with his arms tucked behind his back and nose held high in disgust, blood pooling beneath her sweet warm body. “Once a disappointment, always a disappointment.” 
His father had said the same thing when his sister, Tenri, died six years later due to his intensive, unforgiving training program, unaffected by the fact that he had been the one that slit her throat in one-on-one combat, that it had been her blood that stained the ground beneath his feet. By then, Tengen knew better than to cry in front of his father, but that hadn’t stopped him from screaming on the inside, rage licking violently in his core as he was forced to watch yet another sibling fall before his eyes. Akinobu died only three months later, his cause of death having overdosed with poison by their father in attempts to strengthen his immunity; the boy had only been nine years old. 
By the time Tengen reached the age of fifteen years old, the Uzui clan graveyard held the bodies of all three  of Zankoku Uzui’s wives and seven of his children, only two remaining topside with air in their lungs and scars telling of their damning survival. Hayahiko had supported their father in his methods of madness, having not hesitated for a mere second to literally stab their elder sister Umito in the back, a crazed smile on his lips as he licked her warm, coppery blood off the blade of his kunai. It was in that moment, Tengen swore with Umito’s final, crimson soaked breaths that he would never bring a child into this horrible world just to suffer at the hands of the deplorably wicked. 
How could he do so after taking so many children out of this world?
Even with time and his eventual marriages to Hinatsuru, Suma, Makio, and eventually you, his stance on having children never changed. How could it, when he additionally witnessed the cruel realities of the world around him for a profession? This world was no place for children, especially one of his cursed bloodline. 
“-you seen Y/N, Tengen-sama?”
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Tengen found his attention falling onto a patient Hinatsuru. “What is it now?” 
“I was just asking if you’ve happened to see Y/N-chan this morning, that’s all.” The kunoichi gave him a worried smile, clutching her hands before her chest. “Nao-san and the others mentioned that they haven’t seen them since yesterday afternoon so I assumed they were with you!”
The Sound Hashira felt his gut twinge at his wife’s statement, a sickly feeling developing in the deep recesses of his body, uncertainty swirling in the pit of his stomach. 
“I understand that remaining home alone without myself or our wives can grow lonesome, Y/N. The life you presently live is not one I wish to provide you in the slightest, so cold and deplorable.” He ignored your attempts to object, continuing forward with raging bitterness on his tongue.“But it frustrates me that you dare risk bringing a child, one of our flesh and blood into this demon-infested world, simply to quell your loneliness! You have seen what the world has to offer individuals incapable of defending themselves like yourself! It is already a constant burden on my shoulders to keep innocent civilians safe, let alone keep you out of trouble when you continually disregard my orders! I am sorry your waste of a father gave you to me as payment, that I cannot provide the stability and family you desperately crave! Perhaps I should have left you to a husband that could satisfy your wants since it seems I nor Hinatsuru, Makio, or Suma aren’t enough for you!”
He knew that the words he had spoken were as painful as freshly sharpened kunai piercing the body, that some of what he said to you was unfair if not downright cruel. Days without sleep had worn heavily on his immaculate form, heart yearning to simply lay with you and the others in your large bed and forget the blood staining his hands, the screams of the young civilian that had just witnessed the murder of her best friend right before her eyes echoing loudly within his subconsciousness. Every death of an innocent individual added to the world of regret and guilt resting on his broad shoulders, the weight only increasing at hearing the girl’s parents wailing in despair as they held their thirteen year old child’s body, their only child. Tengen was only able to gaze on in shame, crimson dripping from the cut on his cheek as he and his wives attempted to give the grieving couple space, Hinatsuru cradling the wailing mother as Makio and Suma tended to the father and the best friend. Thirteen years old and dead, all because of the disgusting greed for human flesh that one demon, who had taken countless other children, possessed. 
As he stood there, all the shinobi could see was you, body bare as the day you were born and littered with wounds, scratches, bruises, and more, marring your once beautiful, pristine skin. Tengen had to make a choice he never wanted to make before, one that had him choosing between rushing you to the nearest medical professional or dispatching the very demon he, Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma had been hunting for the last few weeks. Rage fueled his movements as he looked at you held within Hinatsuru’s shaking arms, ordering the violet eyed kunoichi to take you as far from the demon as possible, to save you while he slaughtered the creature that put you in such a state. His blades weighed heavy in his palms, the chains rustling in the cool breeze that followed the Sound Hashira with every step he took, the murderous intent wafting off his person so thick it was suffocating. The damn demon, the epitome of vile ugliness, was struggling to stand where Tengen had sent it flying, its gnarly claws digging deeply within the dirt ground below them. It had the nerve to mock the man, a crude smirk sitting on its ugly mug as it bragged about its evil deeds, eager to tell Tengen just what he exactly did to you. 
“What a lucky man you are! Such a beautiful, tight wife you got there, flesh so sweet and personality even sweeter! I just wish I had gotten the chance to truly feel how tight they truly are!”
It had taken all of his willpower to not cut off its head right then and there, disgust curling aggressively within his stomach as the truth of what that monster had been doing to you slammed into reality. That, that atrocious thing, hadn’t only kidnapped and tortured you, no, it had stripped you of all your dignity and stolen the little confidence you had managed to create in the time you had given to him that fateful day nearly three years ago. So blinded with boiling fury, Tengen lost all control and before he knew what was happening, Makio and Suma were trying to pull him away from the carnage he had wrought, each kunoichi visibly shaken by his handiwork. Suma vomited at seeing the demon hanging from the rafters, intestines pulled through its rectum and acting as its noose, its mouth gagged with its clawed hands. Makio had been the one to insist he stop in his torturing of demon, begging him to behead the creature so they could find where Hinatsuru had taken you. 
It was the least exquisite and flashy death he had ever given a demon in all of his years of service within the Demon Slayers Corps. Yet the demon’s screams were like music to his ears. 
His crow guided the three of them down the sleepy streets of the village, urgency fueling every step they took in hopes of finding you still alive. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the crow landed on the windowsill of a gateway leading into an estate, a crying Hinatsuru waiting impatiently underneath, clothing and hands red as spider lilies, colored by your blood. Hesitant, urgent relief flooded the kunoichi’s face as they approached her, swiftly gesturing them inside. 
“The doctor’s working on them now but he said their chances of survival are slim, Lord Tengen! I-I wasn’t fast enough, we should have found her sooner-!” 
No, not them, him. He was the one with superior hearing, he was the Sound Hashira for crying out, but he hadn’t heard what he had only been able to imagine as screams of agony that left your gorgeous lips. He had been stern in informing the woman of just that before slipping past her and into the estate beyond the gate, desperate to find his injured, no, dying wife. Using his hearing, Tengen found himself racing to the back of the house, and suddenly he wasn’t, his fuchsia irises landing on your unmoving body as the doctor and with whom Tengen could guess had been his wife worked to restart your heart in what would come to be three times it would fail in your recovery. The flurry of emotions that had coursed through his veins in that moment, forced to watch the village doctor do his damndest to save you, praying Shinobu was on her way with one of her little assistants in tow. There had been so much blood, on the floor, on the doctor, soaking what seemed to be bandage after bandage. Eventually, he found himself guided away by a solemn Rengoku, an even-keeled Shinobu rushing into the room with her medical supplies and assistants in tow, never taking a second to glance his way. His life seemed to halt from that moment until you finally opened your eyes six weeks later, fragile and scarred but alive, and he swore that he would never see you in such a state again. 
Suma’s upbeat cry rattled Tengen out of his thoughts, a grin on the kunoichi’s face. “I bet they finally slept in for once! I’ll go get them!” 
Before she could take off for the house, a slender hand took hold of the collar of her dress and yanked her back, Makio glaring at the older woman with distaste. “As if Y/N wants to be woken up by your crying! I’ll go wake them up!” 
“You’re nothing but a bully Makio!”
Makio stomped off with a mission, leaving Tengen, Hinatsuru, and Suma in her wake, the trio watching as the two-toned haired woman disappeared inside. 
“It’s alright, Suma, Makio’s just excited to see Y/N just as much as the rest of us. Try not to take it personally,” Hinatsuru pushed away the dark locks that had fallen in her fellow kunoichi’s eyes, tender and comforting. “I’m sure Y/N will want to cuddle with you to your heart’s content when she’s awake and ready, hmm?”
Sniffling, Suma nodding in agreement to the woman’s wisdom. “Fine, but Makio owes me one!” 
Hinatsuru turned her attention to Tengen with a soft smile on her lips, fondness shining brightly in her beautiful violet irises. “I see you’ve been quite busy since your return, Tengen-sama. Did you and Y/N have a nice evening together like you wanted?” 
He was never one to lie to people, especially one of his wives. Honesty was essential in relationships, romantic or platonic be damned, and Tengen was never afraid to throw a sucker punch of truth in someone’s face if they needed to hear it. Yet, he found himself unable to answer, mouth growing dry as the words he wanted to speak became stuck in his throat, never reaching his tongue. The crack of wood splitting saved him from his weakness, a desperate shout filling the air. 
“TENGEN-SAMA!!!”
Tengen found his gaze latching onto Makio’s panting form with the snap of his head, her voice drenched in fear. “Y/N isn’t in her room and her travel bag is missing! She’s gone, Tengen-sama!” 
Horrified realization began to bleed into his consciousness, eyes growing wide as your final words to him echoed loudly within his memories. 
-”’ll ensure my things are packed and ready for transport by sundown, so as to not add to your building responsibilities, my lord.”
What had he done? 
Without wasting a precious second, Tengen was on the engawa where Makio stood and rushing past her without a word, panic eating away at his stomach as time seemed to slow, the hallway to your bedroom suddenly so far away. When did your room become so far away?! 
The Sound Hashira finally, after what felt like an eternity, came to the doorway of your room, the door left open in Makio’s haste to alert them of your disappearance. He shoved the door out of his way, accidentally sending it off its track in the process, and entered the room that he had made especially for you within the months following your arrival. 
“I’ve seen how much you enjoy sewing, weaving, and painting, so I thought I’d give you a space where you can create your flashy pieces to your heart’s content!” Tengen gazed at you with a playful smirk, enjoying the awed yet shocked expression inhabiting your features. “Welcome to your craft room, my lovely spirit flower.” 
In the time following that exact moment, you had made the room yours, filling it with various fabrics and supplies over the years, making the space nice and cozy and most importantly, you. He enjoyed spending hours in here with you when possible, head resting in your plush lap as you knitted away, humming sweet melodies that kept his night terrors at bay. The others felt the same way, so much that the four of them often fought over who would be spending time with you in the craft room that day and who would get to nap in your lap. You never turned a person away when they appeared at the doorway, a kind smile on your painted lips always, never minding to share your sanctuary with those in need of your love and attention. So many times Tengen had found those annoying kids and the demon girl in there, all striving for your attention as you attempted to teach Tanjiro how to properly knit. It was a place never tainted by the cruelty of the outside world but rather the opposite; it was a safe place where anyone, civilian or demon slayer, could simply exist without a care in the world. 
That’s why it was even more damning to see what the room had become. 
Quiet and lacking of life, Tengen quickly took note of the room’s messy state, a sight he had never seen before since he gifted the space to you. The closet in which you kept spare clothes was bare, the drawers of the dresser either hanging out or only shut half way, a large pet peeve of yours. What was the most upsetting part of the scene before him was the empty space at the bottom of the closet, the man silently padding over to it without a word, heart crashing madly against his chest. He fell to his knees at the closet opening, fingers tracing the space where your travel bag once rested, an outline of the object made by dust that had gathered over the years. It was the same travel bag you had arrived with, the one you swore you would never need again that cool, fall afternoon. 
“I doubt I’ll ever need this again.” You carefully placed the bag at the foot of the closet, a fond smile blooming on your face as you looked at him with shimmering pools of (e/c). “My life is here, now and forever.” 
You really were gone. Kami, what had he done? 
“Tengen-sama!” 
“Tengen-sama, what’s going on?! Where are they?!”
“Tengen-sama, please! Say something!” 
The voices of the three kunoichi echoed through the air, shattering the silence that had encompassed his form. A cautious hand came to rest on his left shoulder, firm yet loose, warm yet cold, and all Tengen could do in that moment was look up into the pleading, worried eyes of his three wives with tearful eyes and the truth.
“She’s gone.”
~~~
Uh, sorry not sorry? 😅
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kurukosmochas · 2 days ago
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Incorrect quotes with Demon Slayer characters |pt 4|
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Kyojuro} “Y/N and I don’t use pet names.”
Tengen} “I see. Hey, what do bees make?” Kyojuro} “Honey?”
Y/N} “Yes, dear?” Kyojuro} “I um-”
Tengen} “Don't ever lie to my face again.”
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Text
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maaarshieee · 2 days ago
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Can I request Kyojuro taking his S/O to a date with HIS hobbies in mind like eating, watching sumo, watching kabuki, and noh plays? Which I imagine is the opposite of what he would do, typically prioritizing his S/O's likes, but his S/O wanted to know more about him which is endearing omg
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➢ Kʏᴏᴊᴜʀᴏ Rᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➢ 2,211 Wᴏʀᴅs
➢ Fʟᴜғғ
➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
Kyojuro wanted to take you out on a date after restlessly slaying demons left and right. He was about to ask you if there's something you'd like to do, but then you fired his question back at him; "What do you, Kyojuro Rengoku, want to do?"
➵ Dᴀᴛᴇ
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When Kyojuro thinks of dates, in his mind, he always thinks of his lover and it rarely crosses his mind what he wants to do himself. Does it matter? Whatever you want to do, he's down for it! He's not picky at all, and if you're happy, he's happy!
So imagine the excitement he felt when you asked him what he wanted to do for your date.
For weeks, Kyojuro has been extremely busy with his duties as a Hashira. More demons have been popping up recently, which led him to work twice as hard as he normally did to retain the peace humanity once had. His hard work, as always, paid off and he has been graced with a short break, courtesy of Oyakata-sama.
As much as he likes to slay demons to protect the weak, he felt inexplicably tired, so he's really glad he's able to take a rest. A break means more time to spend with you! Just thinking about it rejuvenates him, back to his grinning and energetic self.
After all, he can't really last if he's not able to feel your arms wrapping around him tightly, your gentle fingers raking his hair as you coo lovingly at his ear. He misses every single thing about you, the shine in your eyes, the way your lips curve up into a smile, your beautiful voice that he could sit and listen to for hours on end, and your embrace he's grown to call 'home'.
Kyojuro has been looking forward to taking you out somewhere you wanted to go to, perhaps a restaurant you've been craving to eat at? Or go shopping for extra clothing for you? He wonders what you'd like to do, and it's more the reason why he should keep moving forward, to do his best so he could see your smile once more, so you'd stay safe and sound, away from danger. It would be cruel if one day he doesn't return home to you when you always wait oh-so patiently for him. Unfair! He thinks, I'll make sure to do my very best! It's a silent vow he made to himself.
The two of you didn't immediately go out for a date, not when your dear boyfriend looked like he was halfway to death! You swear, one day you're going to have a word or two to Oyakata-sama for making slayers work until exhaustion settle in their bones. You ran him a bath, cooked him dinner, and ready his futon so he can just take it easy for the rest of the day and relax.
For a whole day, the both of you did nothing but lay on your shared futon, sleeping in each other's arms, pulling each other closer and closer as if it wasn't close enough. Your warmth filled him to the brim with a sense of calmness, your skin against his reminded him that you're here, in his arms, that you belong to him, and he belongs to you. That he's finally home, that he can take a break from his huge responsibilities as a Hashira, a pillar of humanity, and just be himself. Kyojuro Rengoku, a man that craved to be in your presence, a man starved of love, and be with you, the person he loves, the person who gives and gives to him, and whom he takes and takes from.
He hopes you feel the same way with him, that he's your home too. The hearth, your flame, your warmth, the one who would ensure your safety until the day he dies. And maybe it's clear to him that you, indeed, feel the same way. It's rather obvious with the way you look at him with such tender eyes, gazing deeply into his soul. Those eyes he grew to adore, along with everything else you had.
Lips, nose, cheeks, fingers, neck, everything. He wishes to press his lips in every crevice of your body, as much as you'd allow him. To feel you, to put your trust in him that he'd never do you harm, nor cross your boundaries.
To Kyojuro, it's always you, you, and you. It's hard to think of anything else when you're here, next to him, loving him, caring for him.
"What would you like to do tomorrow?" Murmured Kyojuro, burying his nose at the crook of your neck, drinking in your scent. You faintly smelt like smoke, not to the extent that it's unbearable, it rather smells good on you. Have you been staring at the fireplace again? He remembers telling you about this tradition his family has. The fact you haven't forgotten about it and even tried it yourself. It made him feel giddy.
You let out a small yawn, your fingers untangling the knots that formed in his golden locks, your leg laid on top of his', which he didn't mind at all, while your other hand cupped his cheek, tracing shapes on his skin. "You always ask what I want to do, Kyo." You stated, a slight drawl in your words as you struggled to keep your eyes open.
Kyojuro just smiled against your neck, tightening his hold around you. "Well, as long as you're happy, I'm happy!" He said, looking up at you, but he only saw a displeased expression on your face. You were frowning, and he grew confused. Did he say something wrong?
"Hmm," Your face shifted to a thoughtful one, closing your eyes as you rubbed your chin. He waited patiently, listening to you hum and admiring your features. Kyojuro was snapped out of his trance when you opened your eyes once again, giving him a dazzling smile. "What do you, Kyojuro Rengoku, want to do?"
Your question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, about to answer immediately but you placed a finger on his lips, your smile widening. "No no, I know what you're going to say!" You chuckled, shaking your head. "Think about it seriously, what do you want to do?" You insisted.
That made him look down, following your words to genuinely think about it. His answer was going to be simple, "Anything you want to do!" But after your reaction, saying it would further displease you, and that's the last thing he wanted to do.
He never really thought about it as far as he's concerned.
The feeling of your hands massaging his shoulders helped him decide. One of the reasons he never suggested anything he wanted to do is that it never crossed his mind. He mostly focuses on you solely, and your question made him realize how less he's been thinking much of himself. He wondered if he was beginning to annoy you for you to ask such a thing, but with one look at your reassuring smile, eyes that held only love for him, and your soft touches, he's sure that's not the case.
Finally, his signature smile emerged from his lips, eyes staring back at yours. "Well," He started, a hand rubbing your arm. "I have a few things in mind."
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If you're going out with Kyojuro Rengoku, expect the first thing you're going to do is eat! He took you to a restaurant he's been dying to go to but never had the time to check out. Now that you allowed him to drag you wherever he wanted to go, he happily ordered all the food that caught his eyes.
"I'll pay for everything," You offered, already preparing your wallet filled with money. Kyojuro paused, his smile thinning, but it stayed. Before he could even refuse, you only shook your head, showing him your wallet. "Don't worry, I got you covered. I earned some money just for this, so you can order as much as you'd like. You can even pick mine,"
Now that made him frown, unsure. Even if you wanted to dedicate this day just to him, he's still so considerate. It warmed your heart. "Are you sure? The food here is more expensive than the usual places we eat at." He asked, lowering down the menu in his hands. You only smiled at him, giving him a thumbs up and a nod. "What if you don't like what I picked?"
"I'm willing to try out new foods!" You said, eyeing the menu handed to you. You'll admit, it's not your usual type of meal you'd eat, but hey, you're really eager to try new things. "If I end up liking it, it's a win!"
Kyojuro was reassured by your enthusiasm. Who was he to refuse you? You looked absolutely serious about what you said, making him feel light on his seat. He was really endeared on how much you wanted to make him loved just as he loved you, even going as far as earning money for his huge appetite and going out of your comfort zone. He let out a loud laugh, grinning ear to ear as he called for a waiter as warmth spread from his chest and to his whole body. "Just so you know, most of these are spicy!" He informed you, watching your face pale, which made him laugh harder.
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Kyojuro was a man of history. If there's anything that makes him awe-struck was the history of his family, and his country, so he's a very traditional man when it comes to certain things.
You were familiar with history, having learned it from your parents at a young age, as well from the books you've read, but your knowledge is nothing compared to Kyojuro's. He knows them by heart and he indulges in a lot of traditional practices, as well as art. His admiration for the past makes you smile, and you listen to him rant on and on about the history of a certain item that pops up inside his mind.
Watching him get so excited about the things he's interested in makes you inexplicably happy. Happy that he's finally letting himself enjoy this day, a day he was so hesitant about, a day dedicated just for him. Not to celebrate his birth, or an achievement, but to just let Kyojuro be Kyojuro.
After asking you if you're totally okay with it, he brought you to one of the theaters to watch some traditional plays together. You've heard about them, when you were younger, your parents would bring you to theaters to mostly expose you to the past. He appreciates art forms with a passion, his eyes wide and filled with awe the more he watches. You're not particularly fond of plays, but it's worth it at the end of the day, to see how happy Kyojuro was after the play.
You've never seen him so cheerful on a date and you made sure to ask him out like this even more. He seems to be enjoying himself a lot more without him noticing.
He pointed out details, explaining things you overlooked or didn't understand. You couldn't do anything but listen with a smile on your face. Kyojuro looked like an excited child experiencing the best day he's had after a long time.
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The two of you were walking back to your home, hands intertwined and a stick of dangos in your hands. Well, Kyojuro had at least five but that's not the point. Walking down the road, the sun was beginning to set.
The day has ended, but you never planned on separating from each other just yet. Kyojuro offered to cook you dinner, but you refused, reminding him that today was absolutely just about him. At this point, he knew that no matter what, he wouldn't be able to convince you whatsoever, so he surrendered.
He'll admit though, that was one of the best days he's ever had, and he's glad to spend it with you. Throughout the day, he observed you whilst he had his fun. He looked for any trace of boredom, discomfort, or anything in your face, but he found none, and only saw fondness, sharing the same excitement he had, and the shine in your eyes never seemed to dull. You were enjoying the date as much as he did.
Grateful; that's what he felt. As much as he'd like everything to be about you, you wanted to learn more about him, to know about his interests, to be more open about the things he liked, the things he wanted to do. You pushed yourself aside for his sake, and you still had fun. It made him fall for you even harder as if he wasn't in love enough with you.
You made him feel so special that day, and he's forever thankful. He should start talking about his interests with you more, especially after seeing how eager you were to learn more about him.
While he knew you had a fun day, he still couldn't help but ask; "Did you have fun, Y/n?" He stopped in his tracks, facing you and pulling you close to him, red flaming eyes staring at you with such fervor, ever so considerate of you.
You beamed at him, nodding your head. "Of course! As long as you're happy, I'm happy!"
Kyojuro smiled, his heart beating against his chest. "I love you Y/n, thanks for everything."
"I love you too, my dear."
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✦ THIS THIS THIS. ANON YOU'RE BRILLIANT, I LOVE YOU /P, THANKS FOR THIS PROMPT, SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE. I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS !! I definitely got carried away and focused the relationship between the reader and Kyojuro and probably less of the date itself BUT. PLEASE FORGIVE ME LOL. also we recently studied about Kabuki theatre and Noh last year, but i was too lazy to put effort on research, so i hope i didn't mess up anything,, Have a good week everyone!! Stay safe and stay hydrated~ May the power of flaming boys be within you~
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o3o-aya · 2 days ago
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Please male part 5 yoriichi x Michi wife i really love the series 🫣❤️‍🔥
Hope you're doing good. Please take care of yourself lots of love ❤️✨
You guys are just so sweet 🫣😭
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You felt... Disgusting....
Sleeping with another man that wasn't your husband... How would you face him like this....?
"Now see... It wasn't so bad." Yoriichi mumbled, placing kisses against your neck.
"I... I've betrayed him..." You whispered, holding back tears.
You squeaked as Yoriichi suddenly grabbed your face.
"No... He betrayed you! He became a demon and left you! He left you and your children!" He said as he looked at you with narrowed eyes. "How hard is that to understand for you?!" He asked as he gripped you tightly.
You teared up before looking down. He was right... But Yoriichi took advantage of you.... Of your husband's absence...
You wanted to hate him.... You wanted to so bad.
“Please... Just leave me be...” You whispered as you turned away from him.
Yoriichi paused for a moment before he sighed and nodded his head. “Very well...” He muttered, gathering his clothes before he finally left you alone.
You gripped your sheets as you began to cry.
How could he do this to you? On your sacred marriage bed?
How....?
~~~~~~
You looked over to your children, a slight smile as you watched your son eat breakfast.
“Is mother okay?” Your son asked as he tilted his head to the side.
You paused before smiling and nodding your head. “Yes yes I’m fine... I just miss your father.” You said softly.
Your son looked down as he bit his lip. “I miss him too... But I hate him... He left us... I like uncle Yoriichi better.” He mumbled.
You flinched before placing your hand on his head.”Now now... He’s still your father...” You said softly. “Just finish eating... Alright?”
~~~~~
You looked up at the night sky as you sighed.
He would hate you now...
You flinched as you looked over at the sudden swoosh sound.
“Michi- Ah... I mean... Kokushibo..” You said before you began tearing up.
Kokushibo looked at you before cupping your face. “What... Is it...?” He asked softly as he wiped your tears.
You looked at him as you shook your head. “I-... I’m... I’m sorry... I have been unfaithful to you...” You whispered as Kokushibo stared at you, his six eyes wide.
“What...?”
So you recounted the night Yoriichi had taken advantage of you. As much as you wanted to remember.
Kokushibo stared at you before placing a kiss to your forehead.
“It... Was not... Your fault...” He said before standing up. “I will visit... Tomorrow....
You nodded before he placed you down on the futon, slowly covering you before leaving.
~~~~~
“What is it you wanted to see me for?” Muzan asked as he looked over at Kokushibo.
Kokushibo took a deep breath.
“Master... I beg you to turn my wife into a demon.”
That way... His brother would never lay his filthy hands on you again.
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