Doma X Reader - Blog Posts

Please can you write the demons meeting Ghost Ronin Male Reader they think his a demon Slayer and put a hole in his chest or something fetal and thinking it's over walks off and hears him laughing and his voice sounding normal then demonic and he looks at them eyes burning blue fire and says "Time to put you to rest" and it ends with them dying or escaping with some burn and some cuts maybe a missing limb and they can't heal themselves

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You were walking around the forest when you ran into...

Akaza

thinks you are a weird-looking demon slayer but doesn't hesitate to fight you

The fight didn't last long and both of you were left panting

He's faster than you and takes his 'final' strike

"Time for you to rest." You say, gripping your sword and forming a steady stance.

Akaza turned around to see you charging at him with your sword engulfed in flames. He just barely dodged.

You let him go. He was too fast.

Daki/Gyutaro

Daki would be cocky and think that one punch was the thing to bring you down

Gyutaro comes out when he hears you laugh

You cut Daki's head off and then went for Gyotaro but he was smarter

"Daki you IDIOT." Gyutaro picked up Daki and ran out of your range.

Douma

He thought you were pretty cool

If you were a demon he'd annoy you with endless questions about yourself

Douma is very unpredictable and caught you off guard that didn't stop you from having a big comeback

"Aww, that's too bad. We could've had so much fun together... Oh well." He turned and walked away.

You rose from the ground, sword in hand.

(An: Call an ambulance. Call an ambulance... but not for me.)

"Time to rest, demon."

"Huh?"

Douma took the most of your attack and ran away with his tail between his legs.

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(fluff) Muzan with reader thats like marceline from adventure time? pranks, awesome abilities, musical, estranged demon overlord parent from a alternate dimension- seems very fun, don't it?)

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Let's say your father is alucard from hellsing (he is gorgeous)

Akaza tolerates you (kinda like he is princess bubblegum without the relationship problems)

He is your prime subject for pranks. He gets you back everytime. If someone were to hurt you he'd kill them and not just because of muzan

Doma cherishes you

He loves pulling pranks with you, no matter how much the others hate it. You keep him entertained

Kokoshibo has a soft spot for you

He likes you additude and how you deal with your feelings in song. Anytime you want him to listen he will

Muzan is... Muzan

He doesn't even remember when you first came to the infinite castle, it's like one day you just showed up and never left.

As weird as your relationship with muzan is he knows all your insecurities and makes sure that no one brings them up around you weather they know or not

Daki loves you while gyotaro is wary of you

If you are around gyotaro would never put his guard down while you and daki have fun doing whatever

It's never quite in the infinity castle with you around and they like it that way

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This is kinda sad, but I was scared to watch adventure time after that one episode where they were on the train and people turned into skeletons, I think it was Jake's birthday. But I've seen enough clips to be familiar with her and marshal lee. I like her and this request. thank you.

Sorry it took so long

A/n: While writing this I realized I had a draft like this but I didn't know how to finish it. The draft in question was written in June.

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"@imgonnamixit maybe the reader meets the slayers and DOMA has to get them back"

You had successfully escaped the infinity castle away from your father and his demon's eyes. One demon, in particular, was tasked with watching you and as of right now was shitting bricks cause he couldn't find you.

Walking out in the open air was something you never got to experience. You liked the outside but you couldn't just stop and look around so you followed your father's tracks.

It happened in a big blur you had followed your father out of the infinite castle to his other family when you were taken away by the kakushi.

They took you away. You don't know where you are but it's no where near home.

They put you in a room without windows you didn't understand why, living in the infinity castle they had loads of windows even if they just lead to other rooms. You've never seen the sun and your father had taught you to fear it.

The first person you saw was a man with a scar covering the top half of his face. He had a soft smile of his face matched with a soft personality. You couldn't help but feel at peace whenever him and his children came by.

Days had went by with you in his care. You didn't mind staying in the small room but you did miss your father.

"Do you feel like talking today." He waited for a response that never came. "That's fine my child. Take your time." He reached his hand out to you. "I want you to meet the demon slayers."

'My child' your father never called you any terms of endearment. You liked it.

Your father warned you about the demon slayers. He told you to stay away from them. That they were dangerous.

So you were terrified.

-----

"Hey, Y/n... Wake up it's time to go home." A familiar voice said to you as you were shaken awake.

"It wasn't very nice to run away from me like that. I got in trouble cause of you." A whiney Doma said while picking you up.

"I didn't technically run. We were playing hide and seek, and I just happened to find a good spot." You replied not worried at all about the consequences of your actions.

getting back at the mansion you were greeted by your father and his usual scowl.

Hide N Seek was permanently banned in the infinity castle and Doma was no longer able to watch over you. Now you were babysat by Kokushibo and Akaza. Strictly.

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𝐎𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬.

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐍𝐨 𝐘𝐚𝐢𝐛𝐚.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬.

frostbites /// Douma x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: [Mermaid AU] An ecologist studying a deserted island stumbles across a creature straight out of a fairytale…or a nightmare.

✧ open season thirsts but this one turned into a full fic so fuck my life [7–8/?] ✧

Request 1: Ooh can you write yandere mermaid AU’s?

Request 2: Oh my gosh. Okay, this is so exciting. Since I realized you write for Demon Slayer I've been itching for the opportunity to see anything from you about Doma. He's just. So awful and terrible. I'm trash, I love him. He's an actual monster with a saccharine smile. I'd love to see ANYTHING from you about him. Headcanons. A scenario of him with a demon slayer, or a demon, or just some pathetic human. Even just your thoughts on him would be a blessing, your choice. I’d just love to hear anything you have to say about him. Your writing is so beautifully unsettling, (your Oikawa piece Fanatic. That left me thinking about him for weeks.) So anything about Doma would be fantastic. But no pressure, if Doma isn't your cup of tea please don't force yourself. Honestly I'm just excited to see what you write from any of your requests. Thank you for being so lovely!

A/N: Combined these requests bc I feel like Douma was honestly perfect for this, and I’ve been holding off writing him until he gets animated but who knows how long that’ll take. Thank you so much, btw—I’m also Douma trash and I’ll absolutely be writing more for him in the future!

Is this yandere? It’s more like an origin story of Douma going yandere for cute ecology RA!reader. I haven’t written a scene like this in ages and it was really fun! I know I’m cursing myself by saying this, but maybe one day I’ll write more in this AU…no promises though ♡

Tags/warnings: yandere, mermaid AU but more on the spooky side (shoutout to @yandere-daydreams, the og yan mermaid fucker & a huge inspiration—thanks!!), fear, action, blood kink (?), mild violence, horror/beauty paradigm, size difference, animalistic, HEAVY predator/prey dynamic, one-sided sexual implications (reader is oblivious), ‘it’/‘the creature’ , hand kink, OSHA violations, there are many benefits to being a marine biologist, unfinished business…

You’ve never slept well in the cold.

Maybe you should’ve kept that in mind when you applied for a research assistant position on a tiny, uninhabited island off the Russian coast, but you thought you’d get used to it. You were sure—you were so sure, cocky little past-you—that you’d adapt to the below-freezing temperatures, that the worst part about the 2-month long field study would be the boredom of spending your days taking water samples and tagging birds with no cell service. But it’s not. The worst part is the cold.

So technically, one could argue that there’s a decent reason for you to be out of your bed tonight, yes? You couldn’t sleep from the stiff pain lancing through your sore muscles and the cold, so you made the (undeniably stupid, you’re now realizing) decision to leave camp and wander through the forest looking for…something. But by now you’re starting to regret it. You don’t think you’re far from camp, but everything feels sharper and stranger when you’re alone like this—the collar of your heavy jacket chafing against your throat, the crunch of hoarfrost under your boots, the thin beam of your flashlight catching the steam of your breath here and there before glancing over the surface of the water. God, you should have stayed in bed.

Even so many hours past sunset, the river that cuts through the center of the island is darker than the night and twice as cold. You haven’t forgotten the cautionary words the team leader imparted on your group before you came to the island: how easy it would be to get caught under the current, how quickly the icy water would seep into your limbs and your blood and your heart. You’ve been following the river because there are no paths and no markers, but you keep a safe distance—that is, until you see it.

A flash of light reflecting back from something under the surface. A rippling tongue of silver cutting through the black water. You start, shiver. You look again for the fish (how could it be a fish, though? nothing that big lives in the water here) but the churning waters are dark again. Just to prove to yourself that you’re being silly, you take a few slow steps closer to the bank—crouching low to keep your balance, shining your flashlight into the river, straining your vision to stare into the depths.

And someone—something—looks back.

You know about the fight or flight instinct, how the nervous system kicks into gear with the right stimulus; that reminder that humans are prey animals too. But you don’t run, and you don’t fight. Every muscle in your body stills, locks into place. You freeze. The thing in the river places its hands on the bank to rise half out of the water and tilts its head to the side; stares into your face. And you stare back at it. Behind it, in the river, you see hints of what caught your eye earlier: a silvery tail, like a fishtail but impossibly long, winding effortlessly through the water and keeping the creature’s torso afloat.

Your knees and the heels of your palms press into the ground. The ice underneath stings through each layer of clothing that was supposed to protect you from the elements, biting a little deeper with every second you spend sitting rigid and looking at the creature in front of you. Run. Run. Run, you think.

It blinks slowly, pale lashes shuttering down over kaleidoscopic eyes that your mind can’t seem to categorize into human or inhuman. You’re so focused on its face that you don’t see its hand move, don’t even know it’s reaching for you until you feel the icy weight of it against your cheek. Its lips part—those teeth, oh god, oh god—and it speaks something in a low, eerie voice that you know by instinct wasn’t built for human language.

(You don’t understand then—the version of Japanese he learned so many decades ago was too archaic and too heavily inflected by his unnatural manner of speaking for you to comprehend. Later, when you’re able to understand him, he’ll repeat what he said that first time he saw you kneel down by the edge of the water like a frightened doe: he’ll tell you he laid his hand on your bare skin and felt the beat of your heart and did his best to remember the human word for warm.)

But you hear different.

You hear the whispered, slithering curse of a monster from a nightmare—a beautiful one, but still. Your prey instinct thrills into pure terror, and finally a thought rips its way to the surface. You know—your brain knows, the logical part of you that you’re supposed to rely on—you know what you need to do. You have to get away. Heave your shivering body off of the muddy snow and force it into motion. You know this, you should know this, and yet the fear radiating through your body is concentrated not on your legs, but on the point where the—

—the what? the mermaid? the monster?—

—this thing is touching you, its fingertips resting delicately on your cheek. The body below the human torso resembles something between a shining fish and an eel, but the skin touching yours would almost feel human if it weren’t so cold. (Like a dead man. Like a dead thing, your mind tells you, and if every hair on your body wasn’t already pricked up in goosebumps, it would be now.)

The nails, too—not like a person’s nails you’ve ever seen—thick and long, tapering into points that could tear your flesh open like paper if the thing in the water decides to move them just a fraction of an inch down into the delicate tissue of your cheek—and because you can’t stop yourself, you don’t do the sensible thing. You don’t run. You release something that sounds like a choked scream (you can see the steam of it staining the frigid air white more than you actually hear it) and you force your stiff muscles to take hold of the creature’s wrist and try to drag his hand somewhere, anywhere it isn’t touching your face.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You’re going to die here, aren’t you?

The terrible, beautiful form before you flexes, rippling like a current’s passing down from where your covered fingers are feebly trying to pull at the cold, thick mass of its arm; in an instant, it’s lifting itself out of the black water to tower over you, and it—

Not it. Him.

The thing, the monster in front of you isn’t human, but from the waist up you can’t help categorizing it—him—as male in your head. Even without considering the dozen feet of his tail, it’s a body with power threaded into every centimeter of flesh: muscular, serpentine almost, and larger than a human man’s but unmistakably male, even if the slick contours of his abdomen, his pectorals, the V-shaped muscles framing his hips and disappearing into scales below would be better suited to a stone carving of a pagan god than any man you’ve ever seen in real life.

The wrist you naively thought you could move is so large that despite the added bulk of the mitten you’re wearing, your fingers aren’t even close to meeting around it; when he bows his head toward yours, forcing you to arch your own neck back to avoid another unwelcome touch, the pristine architecture of his face fills your field of vision. In the periphery, you see a few wet strands of silver-gold hair slip over his shoulder and onto the surface of your puffer jacket, dripping frigid river water into the nylon and the fill until it soaks through to your collarbone.

More important than that, though, is the way he’s looking at you. He’s surprised, or you’d think so if this were a human and you could trust your interpretation of his wide eyes and his head cocked to the side, the slight part of his mouth and the way it curls up at the corners—some mixture of shock and delight, like a child who’s managed to catch a bird in his hands and can’t really believe his good luck.

You feel the muscles in his arm contract and then the grip you had on him is inverted—it’s him squeezing long, agile fingers around your wrist, easily spanning the width of it even over the thick sleeve of your jacket, nails stroking over the fabric like he’s deciding whether or not to shred it to get at your skin.

After a moment of deliberation, where you scrunch your eyes closed and grimace away from the cold seeping off him in waves, you feel the synthetic texture of your insulated mitt slipping over your hand—he’s taking your mitten off? You chance a quick look over, and he’s already tearing through the thick wrist strap with a single swipe of his claw to pull the mitt over your hand and drop it limply to your side. It’s too cold here for bare hands—you instinctively try to draw your hand back, curl your fingers into a fist, but the creature doesn’t let you—a short hiss escapes his mouth, and then his own hand is flattening against yours, forcing your fingers straight so he can—

—it’s strange. Almost like he’s comparing the size of his hand to yours. But that wouldn’t make sense, would it?

With the damp cold of his palm aligned against the warm softness of yours, you can tell that his hand is enormous—each fingertip outstretches easily five, six centimeters past yours, even without the added length of his sharpened nails. The stillness, the strangeness of the comparison quiets the part of your mind that’s curled in on itself with sheer terror enough that the researcher in you can start making notes—skin resembles human’s but slightly…smoother? glossier? could be something covering the surface along with water—abnormally large hands but seem to correspond with body size—small amount of transparent webbing between the fingers…

The massive hand pressed into yours shifts by a few degrees, fingers finding the gaps between yours, lacing your hands together and applying pressure until, until—

You flinch, trying without success to yank your hand away from the source of the pain and you speak without thinking. “—stop—stop, that hurts!”

He stops, easing the pressure on your delicate hand, but only by a little. Curious eyes move back to you, lingering over the movement of your mouth when you speak. His own mouth opens, and you force your gaze back up to his multicolored eyes so you don’t have to look at his teeth.

“h—ur—hur—ts?”

You frown through the persistent ache in your wrist—did he just—? Is he trying to imitate you?

“hur—ts?” the creature says again in that low, slithering voice that still feels wrong somehow. “it—hurts?”

“Can you understand me?” you gasp, the words leaving your mouth so quickly that your breath in the cold air clouds his beautiful face for a moment.

His head dips into a fluid nod. “—can— un—under—stand.”

You’re marveling at the discovery—not only can this creature sort of…mimic human speech, it seems like there’s a chance he actually understands what you’re saying. Does that mean he’s met humans before? Is he part human—some kind of human hybrid, a species never before believed possible until you stumbled across it on a completely unrelated research project? What does this mean—for your team, for your career, for the world? Never mind that he’s still gripping your hand so hard that the bones are starting to throb with pain—for the first time since you spotted his tail moving through the water, your fear moves to the back burner. Instead, your mind is humming with the possibilities of this finding.

Which is why you don’t notice him leaning in closer until it’s too late.

“sm—ell— g—ood. smells—good,” he repeats breathily, the air exhaled from those unearthly lungs washing like a cold rain over the side of your cheek. His face—so much larger than yours—is nudging up against the place where your jaw meets your throat, breathing in your scent. You can feel the brush of his pale eyelashes against your sensitive skin.

“want to— t—taste—want to—eat—”

You’re so numb from the cold that you barely feel the razor-like edge of his claw slice through your bared skin, drawing a shallow cut from your thumb down the back of your hand to the bulge of the carpal bones in your wrist. It’s not deep—the pain isn’t even as noticeable as the strangeness of the heat you feel seeping from the injury a second later—which you realize, as the creature pulls back just enough to lick over it—is blood.

Your blood.

He’s lapping at your blood.

You try to scramble to your feet, boots scraping haphazardly against the slippery coating of snow on the ground only to pull him closer by his grip on your hand when you stumble back almost flat to the earth. You prop yourself up on your elbows and then he’s looming over you, nose almost touching yours, the bulk of his broad chest gleaming white like the snow underneath you.

He’s smiling—beaming down at you, eyes wide with joy, such an angelic kind of beauty that for a second, despite everything, your heart seizes up with longing—ribbons of metallic hair curl around his face as they dry or drip down over his chiseled shoulders like rivers of gold—his eyes shimmer in a million colors you couldn’t put names to, almost luminescent even in the scattered halo from the flashlight you discarded a few feet away without thinking—this monster, your angel of death staring you in the face, so beautiful it hurts to look at him—

Stop freezing. You have to run. You have to do something. Your adrenaline isn’t working right, it’s pinning you into the frozen earth just as surely as the creature on top of you. The weight of his body—the juncture between his human abdomen and the tail—settles between your knees, forcing your legs wider to accommodate the mass between them. His mouth moves and again you’re transfixed piecing together his fractured speech.

“you—taste good—soft— sw—sweet. want to—touch—feel. inside.” His low, raspy voice is laced with something besides pleasure—hunger? you can’t tell, you’re not sure, but it has to be—and his eyes drift closed happily as he speaks, one thick arm curling underneath your rigid body to draw it up against his. “let me—inside—? let me feel inside—”

“Get off me!” Do something. Now. You don’t know what he’s talking about (‘feel inside’? what the fuck?), but considering common sense is telling you that there’s a decent chance you’re about to be wolfed down like Christmas dinner, it can’t be anything good.

You struggle awkwardly against the pressure of his arm, but you’re nowhere near worming your way away from him when your bare hand scrapes roughly into the dirt near your leg searching out the pocketknife you keep zipped into one of your chest pockets. Somehow you have a hard time believing the 6cm blade you use to clean under your fingernails is going to do a whole lot of good against the literal monster that’s wrestling you into the snow at the moment, but maybe a decent slash over the face could distract him enough for you to get away?

It doesn’t matter, though—as soon as the back of your thumb makes contact with the rough fragments of ice littering the ground, your escape attempt is thrust to the side in deference to the line of fire screaming out from the cut on your hand. A mixture of clean and dried blood smears out over the dirty snow and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from whimpering like an animal.

The pressure against your chest lets up as the monster…sits up, or whatever the anatomically-correct equivalent position is, staring down at you with patronizing concern over his face. “it hurts?” he asks slowly, almost mockingly, but your eyes are fixed on the newly-reopened injury spilling a few final drops of scarlet into the white canvas underneath. So red, like…

The flare.

The fucking flare you were given, for emergencies only.

You’re an idiot.

Before the creature can resume its attack, your abused hand shoots to the thigh pocket where the flare is resting parallel to your leg—you can barely get your cold fingers to move to the right position but you force the stiff digits to grip the zipper and yank it open, bending a few of the metal teeth in the process. He notices you moving, but just cocks his head to the side again, waiting patiently to bat aside whatever pathetic resistance attempt you’ll mount this time—and then you have it—the long rod of the flare is resting in your hand and you slide it out of the pocket to point it out to the side as far from your body as possible—

his eyes narrow a little and he makes to reach out for you again, probably wondering what you’re holding—

your team leader taught you how to use these flares on the first day of the boat trip: hold it downwind remove the cap strike the lid like a match—and in the chaos you barely remember to turn your face away and close your eyes but you do and then—

Heat explodes through the icy air as the black behind your eyelids blooms scarlet from the light of the flare. You can hear it hissing and spitting—or is that the monster?—but more importantly you can feel it, the fiery warmth roasting through the darkness at the end of your arm. You thrust the flare upward blindly (careful not to let it anywhere near you but so desperate at this point that you’d take a nasty burn over being eaten alive) and an instant later you feel the weight of his body lift off you. You don’t have any time to waste—it’ll only burn for a minute, and with the frost still biting through your lungs you’re not going to be running as fast as you’d like—but hey, he’s part fish, right? So all you have to do is get away from the water. At least…you hope.

56 seconds left. You toss the still-burning flare to the side and roll in the other direction, squinting through the all-encompassing red glow to make out the plastic glint of your flashlight. You spot it, dive for it, and wrap your undamaged hand around the familiar grip, tucking the other into the pocket of your jacket for warmth. 49 seconds left. You can hear him behind you—growling or something in that creeping voice—but you can’t look back. Can’t look into those eyes, or you’ll be trapped again, pinned and licked and taken. You haul yourself to your feet and pick a direction—doesn’t matter where, as long as it’s away from the scarlet fire of the flare and the river and him. 43 seconds left.

Behind you, the growling has started to sound like laughter.

Run. Run. Run.

///

In the morning, you wake up cold.

You’re nested in your bedroll, but icy sweat is soaking through the fleece lining of your undershirt and your whole body is shaking trying to get you warm again. What a horrible dream, you tell yourself. Just a bad dream. You’re still wearing your outdoor jacket but that must be because you were so tired after the job you were assigned yesterday that you forgot to change into your nightclothes, so silly. One of your hands feels prickly and achy and it stings but that must be because you scraped it on something while taking samples. So careless of you. What a horrible dream, you tell yourself.

The morning light filtering through the tent is silver-grey, almost gold at some angles. You stare into the perfectly normal light, straight up into the place where the sun should be behind the fabric. There’s condensation collecting on the ceiling of the tent; when it drips down onto your bare face, you have this strange idea—that the sudden shock of cold water spilling down your cheek feels almost like…

…almost like the echo of a touch.

THIS IS DOMA ORIGINAL DESIGN, HELP-

Kimestu No Yaiba / Demon Slayer

☆ KNY DEMONS x fem! upper moon reader

“𝐀 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞” - Doma x fem! reader

📎🎧UPPERMOONS WITH A GF WHO IS STRONGER THAN THEM

Domestic Headcanons with Gyomei!

♰ ★ 𝖀𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖌𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

♱♱♱ “Beginning andthe end” 

`` Kokushibo with an innocent princess reader

📎🎧UPPER MOONS WITH A GF WHO IS STRONGER THAN THEM

; Fandom ``` 🎱 Kimestu No Yaiba

w.c - 711

Muzan would be totally caught off guard by how strong you were stronger than his, the very beings he made that manage to be stronger than him.

☆ Muzan would have definitely put you to the test with your strength. Would still be in disbelief that you were actually stronger than that, might be gotten a flashback of Yorrichi.

☆ He would probably favor you over all his other uppermoons either than or he would totally envy you.

☆ You would accompany him every time he is in a meeting, right by his side, showing his favoritism even if in front of the other uppermoons.

☆ I have a feeling he would try to kill you just to get packed up by you. 💀

📎 Kokushibo, along with Muzan would be shocked too, about how strong were are; no doubt he would be a little jealous.

☆ Kokushibo would be shocked, especially with his years of trying to get stronger just for you to spawn in, beating him.

☆ He would definitely be jealous of you but also admire you at the same time.

☆ You would probably spar with him as practice for him to get stronger or smth.

☆ You guys would be a totally cute power couple.

Doma would be little shocked but would still tease you about it.

☆ Doma would be lowkey shocked that A) your woman and B) you stronger than him.

☆ He would tease you either way; when you're fighting a slayer or you're just doing something in general, he would follow you.

☆ I feel the thought of you being stronger than him would make him horny or smth.

☆ You would probably punch his head before he can even speak to you.

📎Akaza he wouldn't care about it, he demand you to fight him.

☆ Akaza would be the first to want to spar with you (though you beat him every time he always demands rematches).

☆ He would literally worship you from the ground up by your strength, literally in love.

☆ He would definitely get teased by Doma about it, but he wouldn't care at all because he is with you.

Nakime, she wouldn't care, she would still treat you like demon you are.

☆ Nakime lowkey wouldn't care. She would be chill about it. You would be her little bodyguard from Doma.

☆ She would be there while you train or fight a demon slayer, just chilling there.

📎Hantengu, you would be his bodyguard, especially with the upper moons and muzan.

☆ Karaku and Urogi would definitely admire your strength and find it entertaining how strong you really were.

☆ Sekido is envious of strength, but he would secretly respect and applaud your strength too, though he is seething right at you.

☆ Urogi would definitely tease you about your strength and would want to spar with you, everything.

☆ Aizetsu wouldn't mind the strength difference; more like he would be less agitated when he's with you, and able to protect as well as him.

☆ Zohakuten would be slightly bitter about you being stronger than him, maybe unbothered. He would probably want to spar with you as well.

☆ You would be Urami's bodyguard, he would be scared of you but probably hide behind if he sees a threat or is scared.

📎Daki, she would adore you and you would also be a body guard for her.

☆ Daki would love to be around you; you would be her little body guard.

☆ She would admire your strength, always wanting to be you.

☆ You would accompany her to the red-light district, helping her and stuff, and she would be following you, always complimenting you; you would definitely replace muzan on her scale.

Gyutaro, he would be low-key envious but look up to you at the same.

☆ Gyutaro would also respect your strength and always wondered why a person like you was even with him.

☆ He would love to spar with you, and even Daki likes you with him, thought you kind of intimidate her.

☆ I feel he would make passive-aggressive comments about you and your strength, most definitely maybe positively, but hey, he still loves you but envies you all the same time.

"𝐀 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞"

n.o.t.e.s - The animate version of Doma got my toes curling.

w.a.r.n - penetration, creampies, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), non-con.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Douma x Fem!human reader

w.c. - 1.2k

You remember your childhood like it was yesterday, living in debt by your parents. Sitting down on the grass, with your dirty kimono and hair, was messy as well.

Your parents were in debt, barely able to afford food for you and your siblings, working day and night for you while you helped with your siblings until your parents sold you off to the Ogimoto house. While you sat down at the wooden vanity, you removed white powder off your face.

It wasn't hard for you to climb the ranks of the Ogimoto house; it was preferably easy because of your beauty which tricks many of your clients into spending a lot in the house.

You were now a high-ranked Oiran, earning the Ogimoto house honor for your beauty and body. Rubbing off the red pigment off your lips, staring at yourself in the mirror with your bare face, gently touching your skin.

Here you are, looking at your raw beauty in the mirror, covered by powder and makeup, the top of your yukata slipped down to your shoulders, showing pieces of your skin. Unsurprisingly, your beauty was a weapon against other houses, your price went up, and your demand was higher than other Oirans in the red-light district, making the Ogimoto house busy with business.

Before you got to stand up, you heard the sliding shoji door open. A silvered head man walked into the room, he wore a black-to-red kimono. "Oh, I thought Daki was here" he exclaimed, flicking his golden fans over his face, his multi-colored eyes staring at you menacingly.

Your screams were still in your chest, as your heart was pumping fast, "But you're a too beautiful and for me not for me to enjoy"

"W-who are you" you yelled, crawling back until you hit your head on the surface of the wall, you manage to take one of your sharp hair pins. your eyes still on the silvered-head man. He walked towards your shaking body.

"Does it really matter" he cooed at you, cocking his head to the side, giving you a eerily smile.

Before you can even protect yourself, he was face to face with you holding your throat. You tried to pry his hand from your throat but failed too, struggling to find your breath.

"Be a doll, and don't scream" he whispered into your ear, your eyes staring at him in fear.

"Nod if you understand, darling" he demanded, you reluctantly nodding to his demands, his grip off your throat

"Now, beautiful, you'll do what I say before I consume you. Take your clothes," he said, gently cupping your face, his sharp fingers grazing your cheek, making a little cut on the cheek, soon licking the blood droplet.

You obeyed what the demon said as you trembled to remove your yukata, His multicolored eyes looking at you while you stripped yourself of your clothes, every piece of it.

The last fabric slipped off, showing your bare body to the silvered-head demon.

The rainbow-eyed demon licked his lick, as he saw your bare body in a display of him, your hands fisted in a ball. You were too smart to go against the strong demon, but the aura of the said demon gave you a bad feeling, especially with the kanji that look to be carved into his eye.

The number two.

You never saw a demon before, but from your first encounter, there were fearful beings.

The silver-head demon walked to you and cupped your face, he force you to look into his colored eyes, "You are gorgeous, maybe even tastier than most women, what's your name" the demon exclaimed.

"Y-Y/N" you stumbled out,

"Y/N" He tested it out, "Y/N-chan" he smiled at you, before he placed his hands on your bare shoulder, looking at you up and down, "Daki wasn't lying how beautiful you are, you sure look like a oiran"

"My name is Doma, Y/N-chan" he analyzed you and your name body.

You could barely even respond, how quick his fingers were already side you, before you got pressed on the wall.

You stumbled a moan out, from the quick action.

Your breast up against his chest, his finger plunging further side you, before pulling it out of you, giving a quick lick of his fingers.

"Your even more delicious, Y/N-chan" he looked at you with lust covered eyes.

The beating of your heart seemed to be growing rapidly near him, "Y/N.." Doma said, before he cocked his head to the side.

"...Turn around and bend over" he demanded, giving you a creepy smile.

You obey Doma, bending yourself to the walk, gripping your hands to the wall, exposing more of your parents to the demon.

It felt like the tension in the room could be sliced with a knife, before you felt his hands taking both your hands with one of his own pressing it to your bare back, forcing your body into the wall, your breast squished into the shoji wall.

You watched his movement with the corners it your eyes. The noise of a belt coming off, made your body tremble.

It was normal for you in the district with your clients, but you never did this with a demon nevertheless.

You felt him lining up to your entrance, his member splitting you open, the searing pain in your cunt. The simmering pain, as you tried to just to his size.

Your walls fluttered around his cock.

His hips rolling into yours, jackhammering in your pussy, you felt the pain in your lower region, hitting your lips.

"Fufufu, who knew your this wet for me, y/n-chan~" he whispered into your ear teasing you, he licked the tops of your ears.

Your hand still binds together, his razor-sharp nails scraping your hips. The pain turned into pleasure as he frequently plunged into you, you curved your back more, and your moans ranged out.

You lolled out your tongue, and your breath got heavier, feeling your legs numbed. Your cunt was on fire before you saw white, moaning out loud, turn your head back to get a glance of Doma.

His eyes were still filled with lust and contentment.

Your head was on the wall, his cock getting further into your cunt, your moans ranged out of your lips, eyes watering. Your pussylips dripped off your juices and blood.

He placed his head on your shoulder, muttering sinful things into your ears, making you hotter.

He bit your shoulder before spilling his seed into you; his white essence dripped down your legs, your walls sucking him dry.

Before he withdrew his dick from you, you fell to the floor, mixed liquids dripping onto the floor, before he shoved his dick into your mouth, kicking the oxygen out of you.

"Suck it" he demanded, his cock coming out and in into your mouth. Slick coating your lips, dripping onto your chest.

You looked at him, your e/c making eye contact with his own multi-colored eyes, before he took your head, slamming your head to his pelvis.

His pelvic hair tickled your face, drooling dripping out your mouth.

His length hit the back of your throat, gagging on it, trying to get air into your lungs, before he spilled his seed into your mouth, he grabbed the back of you by the hair off his cock.

A string of spit connected his dick to your mouth, and your tongue lolled out, as you greedily tried to breathe in the air.

Your eyelids felt heavy before you turn around to see Doma already have his pants on, fixing himself together. He bent down to your level, "Y/N-chan, I will spar your life, but.." he put one of his fingers on his cheek.

"You have to serve me and suit my needs" he smiled, as he finished, before gently grabbing your chin, tilting it up.

Your face felt hot, but who knew that you would be here just fucked a demon and got cummed in, but you had to face the fact.

"Yes, Doma"

☆ KNY DEMONS x fem! upper moon reader

n.o.t.e.s - the sword arc was so delicious to watch literally, I just wanted to write something tbh. 📢

w.a.r.n - some crack energy, fluff, doma being a menace to society,

w.c. - 753

The strings of the biwa ranged throughout the infinite castle, summoning the upper moons to the castle.

From those few, you were already there due to Muzan's orders. You were trying to busy yourself playing with your h/c hair, waiting for the upper moons to span in.

It was pretty boring for you; you couldn't sit on the floor because of how uncomfortable it was because you managed to disobey his orders by helping some hashira. It was even a miracle that you didn't die because you managed to do it every time; some demons thought you were in a relationship with Muzan, so it wouldn't be surprising.

You were bored out of your mind, trying to converse with Nakime, "So Nakime wanna go out after this meeting" you chimed, clapping your hands together, looking at the biwa lady.

You lifted your head to see a upper moons before you, "That was quick," you murmured; you heard a familiar annoying voice saying your name.

"Y/N-chan," Doma's voice ranged out, his hand touching your shoulder; he irked everything in your body, "Did you miss me, y/n-chan" he gave you a toothy smile, and you looked at him with disgust.

"Don't be like that, Y/n-chan. Maybe we can go to my place and-' Soon, you found Doma's head on the castle's floor, thanks to Akaza.

His whole body was irked by Doma's presence, "Thank you, akaza" You gave him a smile that made Akaza blush, and his once-white face turned red.

You heard Doma's whines in the background calling your name

"It was no problem" he placed a hand behind his back, looking away from you.

You soon saw Daki and Gyutaro span in the castle, "Y/N!" Daki yelled at you before tackling you into a hug.

"Hey Daki" you smiled, patting her head.

"Y/N, I missed you," she sang out, burying herself into you, "Maybe if you're not busy, you we have a makeover," she exclaimed, "Sure," you smiled, "Daki, what about me" Doma whined.

"Go kill yourself, you perv," Daki yelled while protectively holding you, "Oh, hi Gyutaro" You smiled at him, and you waved at him supporting Daki's weight.

Gyutaro's cheeks turned light pink, and you giggled from the reaction.

Soon Daki got pulled away from you by her brother; the upper moon one caught your eye, and you walked up to him, "Hi, kokushibo" you exclaimed, he was mostly quiet, but you manage to get the word out of his mouth.

He looked at you briefly before muttering a 'hello' and walking away. You eventually saw Hantengu on the floor, cowardly to himself, and Gyokko talking to Doma with his regrown new head.

A swift wind made your h/c hair blow back as all the upper moons bowed to their demon lord, which appeared out of nowhere. You just stood there looking stupid, "Oh, Muzan finally you here; I was getting bored," you muttered still standing, crossing your arm, cocking your head at him.

The uppermoons were astonished at what you just said to Muzan, you're probably the only one that manage to get away with disrespecting Muzan without getting punished or even dying.

You saw Muzan's eyebrow switching at your comment; you smiled from the reaction.

He shot you a glare before your hand was force by what it felt like air to sit down but, which led to your face buried into the tatami floor.

It earned from sniggers from the upper moons before everyone was silenced by Muzan.

The meeting was quick and short by Muzan degrading all the upper moons except Kokushibo; your head was still stuck as you struggled.

You manage to get your head help by someone grabbing onto your waist and pulling you out of the floor. Whoever this hero was you were probably grateful, because Muzan manage to get your head really stuck to the floor.

But unfortunately for you, it was Doma, holding your waist. "Y/n-chan, we should do this more often" he exclaimed before you punched his head away from you.

Forcing his grip on your waist away before you whipped your head to the loud voice of Daki and Akaza charging to Doma's headless body.

"Get your hands off her, you pervert" Daki and Akaza yelled before jumping Doma.

There were crushing the stronger demon; you deadpanned at the sight. While the upper moons was busy, Gyutaro was laughing at seeing Doma being attacked by Akaza and his sister.

It was pure chaos.