#Demon Mitsuri AU

[reallypleasanttree]

Snippet for Demon Mitsuri AU Obamitsu fanfic wip. Setting: Modern Era

Mitsuri never stayed in one place for too long. It would be noticeable if multiple men disappeared from the same club or city. Now, she was standing beside the bar trying to decide who would be her next victim. She wanted to see her human lover again. The feeling of being loved was addictive. She craved it. 

She smiled at the man across from her. He was tall, blond with a mustache. He met her gaze and she winked. He made his way over to her. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?” He greeted. 

“Waiting for you,” Mitsuri said, the lie slipping out easily. He grinned widely. 

“I’m Lance,” he introduced himself. 

“Lily,” she said using a pseudonym, batting her eyes at him. It was over the top, but men couldn’t resist a girl throwing herself at them. “I’m in town for business.”

“What are you drinking?” Lance asked and pulled her to the bar’s service counter. His hand rested on her upper arm. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

“Such a gentleman,” she praised him. The bartender was facing away from them preparing drinks. 

Her heart thudded for the first time in decades. The man from her dreams. Her usual calm vanished seeing him. Black hair pulled back into a ponytail and his two toned gaze honed in on Lance and her as he looked over his shoulder. She licked her lips as he glanced her way. The only thing missing was his scars. His cheeks were smooth, she wanted to run her hands over them. 

“Okita, my girl wants a whiskey on the rocks,” Lance yelled over the cacophony of sounds. She barely registered the man she decided would be her meal tonight. 

“Is that right?” The bartender asked. Mitsuri nodded, unable to speak. He was so close, the man she craved more than anyone. The bartender  turned around again to prepare her drink. He was well built, his hands tactful as he pulled out a chilled glass and one of the bottles of whiskey. He didn’t even bother looking for it. He memorized the selection. 

Lance was talking, but she failed to listen. The man who haunted her dreams stood before within her reach. So close, yet too far. Her a demon and him a human. She shivered.

Obanai. 

[colourstreakgryffin]

Demon mitsuri x human! Reader?

Ooooh, okay! I say Upper Moon Mitsuri because that one is much cooler! Interesting fact: Shitsuren, according to Google Translate, means Heartbreak in Japanese

Kanroji Mitsuri

“Kaaaawww! A Upper Moon has been found! Kaaww!” Your crow called out from above, hidden by the dark beauty of the night as you ran at your top speed to follow the intelligent bird. She was leading you to the location of the demon and luckily, you were the nearest Hashira.

Though, ‘Upper Moon’ frightened you as Upper Moons were beyond your strength level but at the same time, you were ready to sacrifice your life to save Japan for good

Arriving in a dark, misty forest where nothing seemed lived in, you pasted the village but yet, you were confused by the lack of living breathing beings. Nothing was in this forest; no chirping of birds, no human screaming

It was rather eerie as you slowed down your running and beginning to walk with your katana flaring upwards as a warning to any nearby demons that you mean business. A rather elegant female voice harmonised through the air like the trees were the ones making that noise, out of nowhere

A stream of see-through fabric flowed past your sight as you hopped back in instinct. It was dead quiet for quite some time whilst you looked around for any signs of demons. Now something has finally come out and it all came crashing down, you were rather nervous but you flipped on your bravery

Preparing yourself and raising up your katana to strike, you stopped in place entirely and whipped your head around to find the demon, why waste your energy until you can actually start the fight. Traces of the demon was very faint so you had to carefully try track it down. The silence enveloped you, your intensity fading slowly until your body jolted up at the feeling of sharp drags on your thighs

A pair of claws ran up your skin, touching your thigh-high socks. You immediately swung your katana down with a deep breath, effectively cutting those hands clean off and jumping back in sync to finally see the demon. Your eyes sparkled in shock at the sight before you, you didn’t need to find the demon yourself, it came to you

The demon was bizarrely beautiful. Bright pink hair fading to lime green with three long braids, lime green eyes with the Kanji of “Upper Eight”, a pretty pink kimono with a open slit at her thighs, a light green haori with that same see-through fabric at the ends, a pair of green thigh-highs with a thick navy blue stripe at the top. She looked rather human, she could easily come off as one if you didn’t have the ability to sense her demonic nature

“Oh my~ Tell me, what’s your name~” The Upper Moon suddenly chirped once her hands regenerated in a mere blink, clapping her new hands together in a act of innocence and kindness. You gripped your katana handle tighter and bit on your lip for a few seconds to steady yourself. Rather she be beautiful or not, she’s a demon. A monster, a killer and she was most likely trying to seduce you into lowering your guard

“… Myōji Dokusha” You answer firmly and somewhat reluctant as the demon chirped pleased, closing her eyes with a smile once she heard your name. You didn’t sense any hostility or aggression coming off her figure but you couldn’t let your guard down, she can easily trick you and lure you into a trap. “Call me Shitsuren!”

The uncomfortable silence was diced apart when Shitsuren begun cooing cheerfully, disappearing the second you blink and reappearing behind you. Her arms circled around your collarbone and a hand grazed down your hair in a rather enticing manner for a demonic creature like her, her eyes glowed predatory-like.

“Dokusha. What a gorgeous name~” Shitsuren’s silky voice radiated positivity, showing off her clean snowy white fangs through her smile as she leant her head on your shoulder. She was playing with you, the bitch. You hissed angrily in your head, planting your zori sandal down on the floor stably

You rose your arms to begin swinging as fast as humanely possible but Shitsuren moved much faster than you ever could, karate chopping the flesh of your neck hard enough to trigger a knockout. Her twisted sweet smile didn’t fade as your vision darkened quickly and your body fell limply into her arms, your sword jumping away on clinks

Shitsuren rolled her tongue excitedly, standing up with you tucked in her arms comfortably after seconds of readjusting you to lay bridal style up against her chest before she stomps on your katana full force, breaking it into pieces. Walking forward, such disgusting sweetness poured from her whilst the delicious smell of human blood wafted past her nostrils

“You are such a delicious treat~ I’m not gonna let you get away from me, Dokusha~”

[quozacheese]

[roleswap au]

i love the Kochos sm

[beddybites]

pint sized pillars / kid hashira experience joy and whimsy

[vazlinet]

Love this ship

[yuki2sksksk]

Crossover ship of Mitsuri and Sanji cause why not

I imagine a modern sort of AU with these two in the spotlights:

Mitsuri traveling away from Kimetsu town after tragically lost her boyfriend of years Obanai due to an incident involving his family (murder mystery maybe). Taking Kaburamaru with her, she stays in the Grand City, working as an art teacher in the New World Academy.

In the midst of her grief, she finds comfort in a cafe where the chef is nice enough to cook her enormous amount of food without any complaints every time she comes over.

Or maybe it's the chef himself.

(Mitsuri and Sanji are going to start off as friends and then close friends and it'd take a very long time for them to be together because one is afraid that she'd forgot her late boyfriend if she moved on, and another doesn't want to take advantage of the poor girl and he's unsure if he's worth enough to be with her)

[pint-sized-pillars-au]

welcome to the official pint sized pillars au blog!!!

created and run by @beddybites

the hashira are all de-aged by muzan in an attempt to weaken the demon slayer corps... until they can find a cure and return to normal, the hashira are given a second chance at a good childhood! includes fluff, some angst, some chaos... hijinks ensue!

general info / permissions - asks can be targeted at anyone, but remember the hashira are the stars here! - responses may come in the form of art or text posts - asks will be in character! - please keep everything appropriate ): these are children - you can also ask me (bite) things! asks targeted at me will be tagged with #author bite - you are absolutely permitted to draw stuff! if you make me anything please show me! - everything will be tagged with #pint sized pillars au and #psp au

the pint sized pillars

secondary cast

[pinkuurin]

Just finished this yesterday! 🌷

Mitsuri page + WIP !!

Wip time! 💖

[mooechi]

a few hashbrowns as celebs au

[af12art]

Recolor plus my au versions of hashiras as demon and the demons as hashiras. The Au demon version of Muichiro and Sanemi is still undetermined, so I used one of the concept ideas I have so I can finish this style.

[lelee-tdn]

“When snowflakes fall, I wish you love”

Finally had the chance to finish this comic 😭💖💖 I love them sm.

Akaza barista being a gentleman has my whole heart 😫

[reallypleasanttree]

Part 2:

Okita’s eyes widened upon seeing the pink and green haired woman appear through the back exit. Since he saw her with Kenji he grew irritated. Kenji went through girls like they were tissue paper. He would string them along and most of the women would have residual feelings for the jackass. It was none of his business, but a new emotion emerged with the new woman. The corners of his mind prickled as he worked and caught sight of the pair. 

The woman smiled and laughed beside her companion. To most people her interest in Kenji would have seemed genuine, but it was missing something. Her movements were precise and her expressions poised. It was unlike the expression of shock she had when their eyes met as he handed her the whiskey. Their fingers brushed for a mere second and it was enough to captivate him. After the shift ended, he decided to smoke a cigarette before heading home to calm his mind. 

Okita stared at the pink and green haired woman. What could she possibly want with him? She had barely said more than five words in his presence. However, he caught her looking in his direction for the duration of his shift. His appearance was an oddity, but this woman was as well. Certainly, she knew what it was like to be gawked at for her hair and other assets on display.

She wore a short black skirt with a green crop top. Her stomach was exposed, showing the generous curves of her hips and smooth skin. If he could, he would have wrapped her up in his coat to keep her warm. Though, he made it a policy not to pick up women from work even if they were as attractive as her.

“Why?” Okita raised an eyebrow. Her mouth twisted as she considered the weight of her next words. Due to the light and patio above them, her face appeared in strips of light and shadows, almost like pinstripes. Her emerald eyes enchanted him and he found it difficult to look away. Her lips reminded him of sakura blossoms. He could not specify what it was, but she had an ethereal quality to her. Nearly too perfect to exist. 

“You remind me of someone,” she answered. 

“Is it your ghost?” He asked jokingly. Her face fell. Her lips curled down and her eyes lost their glimmer. Okita immediately wished he had said something different, but the damage was already done. He gritted his teeth. “That was a bad joke, sorry,” he attempted to apologize. He dropped his cigarette and squashed it into the ground where he belonged for offending her. 

“I knew this was a stupid idea,” the woman muttered with a bowed head. He barely heard her. She lifted her face. “Sorry for bothering you. I didn’t mean to disturb your night.” She turned and he could almost hear the string of fate snapping. If she left now he would never see her again and unease settled in his stomach. He reached out his hand and caught her wrist. Her skin was cold to the touch.  

“I didn’t mean to come off as insensitive,” he said. “Can we start over? I don’t know your name.” Her eyes traveled down to where he held her before meeting his gaze. A shadow crossed over her features and he noticed the beauty marks beneath each eye. She nodded slowly.

“I’m Kanroji Mitsuri,” the woman said. 

“Genji Okita,” he introduced himself and dropped her wrist. “Are you from around here or just visiting?” 

“Business trip, but I’ve been here before. I used to go to a ramen shop with a good friend around Kiiroi Tsubaki Street. I forget its name,” Mitsuri said. 

“Is it Kuroyuri Ramen?” Okita questioned and she nodded. “It’s the oldest ramen shop in town.” He glanced at his watch as it was nearly 1 A.M. His grandmother would worry if he wasn’t home soon. She lived in the apartment next to his and despite his protests, she would stay up until he got home. 

“I have to get home. I don’t normally do this, but can I give you my number?” He asked. It was against his better judgement and breaking his policy. Deep inside he knew if he let her slip through his fingers, he would regret it. Mitsuri took her phone out of her purse and pulled up the new contact screen. He recited his number and she asked him to repeat it to ensure it was correct. She typed a quick message and he heard his phone buzz in his pocket. He would have to check it when he got home. 

“Let me know when you get home safely,” Mitsuri said, “otherwise, I’ll worry.”

“Isn’t that my line?” He asked jokingly. This time when she laughed it was real, the corners of her eyes crinkled. The sound of her laugh made him pause. It was the sound of bells chiming. He’d heard it before, but he could not place where. Either way it brought forth a sense of warmth to his heart. 

“Well, it’s mine for now. How about you use it tomorrow night?” Mitsuri suggested as she fiddled with her purse strap. She was adorable. 

“Are you asking me out?” Okita asked. 

“Depending on your answer, yes,” Mitsuri said, her cheeks tinting pink. “So, tomorrow night?” 

“Yes,” he answered before he could think too much about it. This was definitely breaking his policy.

The completed section I have for the Demon Mitsuri and Reincarnated Human Obanai fic where Muzan won and turned Mitsuri into a demon.

“If we survive the battle against Muzan, will you marry me?” Mitsuri asked. They laid, staring at each other. She ran her hand over his cheek, caressing his scars. They ran from his mouth to his ears, deliberately made for him to look like a snake. He never cared how they looked, only if she would be bothered by them. However, she adored them. The raised lines brought her comfort in the familiarity. He entrusted his secret and his face to her alone. He sought solace in her and she in him. 

“Yes,” her lover agreed. 

Nothing could describe how she felt. Warmth blooming beneath her breast. With that single promise, he tied himself to her forever. Scars and all. Except it was not to be. He died fighting one of the Upper Moons. She nearly died before Muzan turned her into a demon. When she first became a demon she had no memory of her former life. It came back in pieces. 

Muzan explained how eating humans would make her stronger. Hunger clawed inside her stomach. Instinct drove her to kill and devour her prey. It didn’t matter who it was. She needed to fill the void in her stomach when in actuality the emptiness originated in her heart. 

—-

“Mitsuri,” the man said. She blinked and tried to focus her eyes on his face. They were inside a large fortress with rotating columns, platforms, and bridges. Nothing stayed in place. “If things get bad, promise you’ll run.” 

“I’d never leave you,” she said automatically. His long black hair shielded her from reading his expression. A white snake coiled tighter around his neck. 

“Please,” he breathed and raised his head. His teal and amber eyes were glossy. Scars graced his cheeks along with a downtrodden expression. She held a hand to her chest. “You’re important and deserve more than this.” He gestured to the demons crawling around the Infinity Castle. “You have to live, so please,” he said, tightening the grip on his sword. “If we fail, run,” he said. She nodded. 

They wouldn’t fail. They had a life to live after this. 

—-

The next night Mitsuri woke feeling full for the first time in ages. Just as she was important, he had been important. She couldn’t remember his name or all of his features. The scars across his cheeks though. She remembered those. 

Her fingers traced an outline of where his scars had been on his face. Jagged, harsh lines meant to frighten, yet… they brought forth joy and fulfillment beneath her breast. For the first time in years, she felt her heart. There was a steady thump, she heard reverberate over her body. She grasped the light blue bed sheets. 

Mitsuri. A smooth voice echoed in her mind. It wasn’t like the times Muzan called upon her. No, this was different. It was like a soft caress  as someone pushed back one of her thick braids and whispered in her ear. 

I will always love you. Chills ran down her spine. It was what she craved. Someone to love her. 

Over the next night, the joy Mitsuri felt vanished. That feeling disappeared in the fog like the scarred man who held her heart. They had been lovers, yet she remained. 

———————

They called it a Glasgow smile. When someone’s face was cut from the corners of their mouth and upwards. A permanent scar to make someone look like they’re always smiling. And who wouldn’t smile when they were with her? 

When she looked in the mirror to see a demon with smooth, pale skin. Pink and green hair with emerald eyes. Her face was sweet enough to look at and a body comparable to a goddess of love. It drew in her prey like a Venus flytrap. An offering of sweetness only to be entangled in her vice grip and torn apart.  

She felt nothing as she recalled the vivid, brutal details of her kills. Muscles and ligaments snapped as she tore them from the bone. Blood, the metallic taste sat on her tongue. With each bite, she hoped to fill the void. 

Before the main event, she would charm them, luring them in with a soft chuckle and a touch on the shoulder. With a single touch and a drop of her blood, anyone would fall in love with her. Their eyes would dilate, heart would quicken, and skin would sweat. All signs that her blood demon art worked. Now she was in an alleyway with a stranger. 

“I love you, baby,” her prey whispered. She felt nothing, but the sickening hunger as her stomach growled. Love was no longer part of her vocabulary. At least not in the waking world. Her dreams were another matter. 

The woman dug her nails into the back of his shirt as he kissed her jawline. He was completely intoxicated and reeked of alcohol. She pulled back her lips, her teeth elongating as she prepared to strike.

Her saliva contained a natural sedative. As soon as she bit his neck it would take less than three minutes for him to lose any feeling except for his overwhelming love and affection for the pink haired woman he picked up at the bar. She pulled her head back and before she could read his face, she bit his neck, just hard enough to draw blood. An appetizer before the feast. 

He groaned. She sucked on his neck, drinking his blood. Alternating between sucking and biting, she could feel his body becoming slack. His hold around her loosened and his knees started to buckle. She paused to hold his body up against the wall. 

She flexed her hand to make her nails grow. With her long nails, she carved a permanent smile onto the man’s face. Blood dripped down the man’s cheeks. Her blood demon art was stronger than the pain and fear he should have felt. 

“I love you,” he murmured past the bloody smile. 

“You don’t,” she said. His eyes closed, the blood loss too great to ignore. 

Looking at her work, she could see the man she longed for. He had black hair, sweet almond shaped eyes, and the Glasgow smile. How she missed running her hands over the ridges of the scar. In the next second her former lover was gone. She gritted her teeth before she bit into the stranger’s neck again. The blood quelled her rage, but it would never fill the emptiness inside. Seeing him, though? That was the only time she felt full. It would only last a short time before she’d hunt again. 

Anytime she carved a smile into her prey’s face, she saw her lover and remembered how it felt to be in love instead of the fallacy of being loved. The feelings ushered forth. The coolness of his hands in hers, his arms encircling her in an embrace, the look in his different colored eyes as he watched her race towards him, reunited after a mission. Carving into her victims was the only way to keep his memory alive and her emotions. 

Otherwise, she was a shell of the woman she had been. She could act like the happy go lucky girl, but it never reached her heart. Her smiles were disingenuous along with her promises to care for the men she devoured. No, it was only his confession that quickened her heart. 

————

“Iguro-San, if I became a demon what would you do?” Mitsuri asked. The question was prompted by the last hashira meeting where they met the Kamado siblings. Iguro-San had been unnecessarily harsh with the brother while the Wind Hashira tormented the demon girl. It made her wonder how the Serpent Hashira would react in the boy’s place. Would he be so willing to demand her execution? 

He sat beside her on a bench. There was a plate of dango between them. Iguro-San took one out of twenty, leaving nineteen for her. His grip on the stick tightened and he stared directly ahead of them. 

“Don’t speak like that,” he said loudly. Mitsuri blinked. He never raised his voice around her and spoke kindly. The stick broke between his fingers. She raised her hands up to catch one of the fallen pieces. Instead he caught her wrist and faced her. Her cheeks warmed at the contact and his heated gaze. 

“I’d never allow you to become a demon, not while I’m alive,” Iguro practically growled. 

“I-I’m only joking,” Mitsuri stuttered. 

“Your life is not a joke,” he said. “You’re the most important person to me.” He moved his hand from her wrist to hold her hand. Her heart stuttered this time. Did she really mean that much to him? Surely he was only being kind. Mitsuri tried to pull her hand away, but he held tighter. 

“Kanroji-San, don’t you get it?” He asked, leaning towards her. Her ears buzzed until all she could see was his face. His earnest gaze hypnotized her, leaving her frozen on the bench. 

“I love you,” Iguro admitted. He reached up and pulled the bandages down. She didn’t even care to look at his unmasked face before their lips met. Soft and gentle despite the fire raging inside her. When she finally pulled back she took in the sight of his smile, the one that extended past the corners of his mouth. 

“I love you too,” Mitsuri said, lifting her hand to caress the scars for the first time. 

—

Mitsuri woke up still feeling his warm hand clasped over hers. The memory etched into her heart. The heat in his gold and teal eyes as he confessed and the kiss afterward. Why couldn’t she stay inside the dream for a bit longer? She traced the outline of her lips. 

Her lover kept his promise. He died before she became a demon. He never had to see her like this. A shell of her former self. Listless, selfish, gluttonous. She rolled to her side. Her stomach growled. Another night in the endless days where she sought a cure to this hunger. 

There was no cure. She pinched her stomach. There was no cure for the emptiness, eating away at her insides. The only relief were the memories of Iguro and his all encompassing love. 

I wish you were here. She looked at the empty side of her hotel bed. What would it have been like if he was turned into a demon? He would have been beside her now. She ran her hand over the sheets, recalling how she would search for his sleeping form in the middle of the night as humans. The longing was still there. Mitsuri rolled out of the bed, her white silk robe trailing on the floor. Tonight she had to hunt. 

—-

Mitsuri never stayed in one place for too long. It would be noticeable if multiple men disappeared from the same club or city. Now, she was standing beside the bar trying to decide who would be her next victim. She smiled at the man across the crowd. He was tall with bleached short hair. He met her gaze and she winked. He made his way down the steps to her. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?” He greeted. 

“Waiting for you,” Mitsuri said, the lie slipping out easily. He grinned widely. 

“I’m Kenji,” he introduced himself. 

“Haru,” she said using a pseudonym, batting her eyes at him. It was over the top, but men couldn’t resist a girl throwing herself at them. “I’m in town for business.”

“What are you drinking?” Kenji asked and pulled her to the bar’s service counter. His hand rested on her upper arm. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

“Such a gentleman,” she praised. 

The bartender was preparing drinks. The lights were dimmed, but she could see his features clearly. The man from her dreams. Her flirtatious nature vanished seeing him. Black hair pulled back into a ponytail and his two toned gaze honed in on Kenji and her as he looked over his shoulder. She licked her lips as he glanced her way. The only thing missing was his scars. His cheeks were smooth, she wanted to run her hands over them. 

“Okita, my girl wants a whiskey on the rocks,” Kenji yelled over the cacophony of sounds. She barely registered the man she decided would be her meal tonight. 

“Is that right?” The bartender asked. Mitsuri nodded, unable to speak. He was so close, the man she craved more than anyone. Her usual calm demeanor lost as her hand shook. Okita turned around to prepare her drink. He was well built, his hands tactful as he pulled out a chilled glass and one of the bottles of whiskey. He didn’t even bother looking for it. He memorized the selection. 

Obanai. 

Thud, thud, thud. 

It was the first time she felt her heart race in decades. Her past lover stood in front of her. All she had to do was reach across the counter and run her hands over his face. His scarless face. 

I love you. He told her nearly a hundred years ago and it still rang true. At least for her. This man was a mirror copy of her lover. 

“Here,” the man said, holding the amber drink and meeting her gaze. She took the drink and tried to ignore the way their fingers grazed and the spark of electricity under her skin. Did he feel it? Her lips tingled. When was the last time they had kissed? It must have been the night they fell into the Infinity Castle. “Are you alright? It looks like you saw a ghost,” he questioned with concern. Mitsuri stood straighter.

“No, I just-“ she said, losing her cultivated calm. 

Before Mitsuri could find the words, Kenji pulled her into the crowd. Her goal tonight was to find her next meal. She could not get distracted by the man who looked like her past lover. She sipped on her drink as Kenji continued to flirt. Mitsuri kept the conversation going, easily enough. Kenji talked about himself, not bothering to ask her any more questions. He was less of a gentleman than she thought. 

As much as she tried to focus on Kenji, her eyes kept drifting back to the bar every few minutes. Okita was methodical as he went from person to person. He took orders and made drinks and small talk. 

He smiled at the customers, yet it never reached his eyes. He was pretending, just like she was. The thought was sobering. They were actors tonight. He was cast in the role of a working man while she was a woman looking for a casual hookup. Obanai told her once he loved her because of her authenticity. The memory made her sick. What would Obanai think of her now? 

“It looks like you need a refill,” Kenji said, breaking her concentration. Mitsuri looked down at the empty drink in her hand. “I’ll grab you a new one.”

“No, I’ll get it,” Mitsuri said and turned before she could stop herself. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to Okita. She slipped away and through the crowd. When she stepped up to the bar she was faced with a white haired woman serving behind the counter. 

“What can I grab for you?” The new bartender asked lazily. Mitsuri scanned the entire bar, but he was gone. When had he disappeared? 

“Where did Okita go?” Mitsuri asked despite her best judgement. He wasn’t the same man as Obanai. They may have looked alike, but they were not the same. 

“His shift ended. You can probably catch him outside,” she said, pointing towards the exit. Mitsuri set her drink on the counter and ran out the door, forgetting about her mission. 

The cold air hit her lungs as she opened the heavy door. Mitsuri looked to the right and only saw a dumpster with a rat running across the top. 

“Ghost girl,” someone said on the other side of her. Mitsuri turned towards the sound, already knowing it was Okita. Even his voice was like Obanai’s. He held a cigarette in his left hand as he leaned against the brick wall. He flicked the ash on the ground. “Are you running away from Kenji?” He asked. “I don’t blame you. He’s an asshole.” 

“Sort of,” Mitsuri answered and shut the door behind her. It was only the two of them-and the rat looking for food in the dumpster. “If you knew he was an asshole, why didn’t you intervene?” 

“It’s not my place and, besides, you look like you can handle yourself. If you’re here, then it seems like I was right.” There was a glint in his eye. He smirked as he brought the cigarette to his mouth. He breathed in and out, blowing the smoke straight up.

Mitsuri swallowed as she stepped in front of him. She had not felt nervous in ages. It was foreign as other past feelings emerged with this man’s appearance. What was she doing right now? 

“The other bartender said your shift was over,” Mitsuri said. 

“Was it that good of a drink?” Okita asked, tilting his head. “Izumi could have made you the same thing.” Mitsuri shook her head. 

“No, I wanted to see you,” she confessed. She wanted to do more than simply see him. She wished to touch his scarless face, run her hands through his silky hair, and kiss him. Objectively, Mitsuri knew this man wasn’t the same as Obanai, but they’re similarities were uncanny. He ignited a spark and now a small ember burned inside her chest.

[meowzfordayz]

how they speak up for you — mitsuri, shinobu, kyojuro, sanemi, muichiro

Author’s Note: short and sweet, and hopefully a lil funny too. 😆

how they speak up for you — mitsuri, shinobu, kyojuro, sanemi, muichiro

Kanroji Mitsuri x Reader, Kocho Shinobu x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tokito Muichiro x Reader

Word Count: ~800

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Emergency Request Fulfilled: could you write comfort for when Their S/o like absolutely hates speaking up for themselves, like someone could be walking all over them and they'd be like "Oh, its fine" bc conflict= worst enemy? I would like to request Muichiro (love him sm) and Sanemi if that's okay, and the rest you can decide (-if you want to add more.)

~faqs~

Mitsuri will be all over the situation (in a good way, ofc 😌)

“Baby, didn’t you want your drink hot?” —> she’s already staring daggers at the barista who made your drink 😒

“Hm?”

You do your best to conceal the pinch of your eyebrows, as well as the goosebumps raising on your arms 🥶

“I thought cold drinks made you cold, and you don’t like being cold?”

… “Hm?”

She’s not buying your nonchalance 🙃

“That’s it.” Uh oh. “I’m getting you your drink made right.”

😳🫣🫠

“Nonono, Mitsuri, it’s fiiine.” 😭

Arms crossed, her lips purse, eyes narrowed as you weakly grin and take a big sip 😄

“If you won’t let me get you another one, then at least wear my sweater?”

🤯 “Okay!” 🤭

So maybe she’s wearing a cropped tank top underneath — you’re only a mere mortal after all 

— #oops my thirst made an appearance 😅

Short girlfriend = scary girlfriend

And that’s a compliment 😎

Shinobu doesn’t need height, bulk, or a dick to defend you

Her scathing tongue and unnerving stare are plenty

Not to mention, she’ll go full Karen if need be, but the more eloquent, calculating, deceptively sweet version 😌

She can make anyone feel like a complete idiot in 2-3 sentences, give or take 

Which does include you, but you don’t argue too often 😅

Basically:

It’s highkey hot when she speaks up for you 🤭

But it may or may not make you cry when her sharpness is directed toward you 🥲

Fortunately, you in distress is also one of few things that immediately softens her — at least, when she’s the reason for it 🥺

Kyojuro always tries to solve your problems for you

Not bc he thinks you’re incapable, and not w/o your expressed consent/prior communication

But he just hates seeing you unhappy, uncomfortable, unsafe — really anything that isn’t grinning and laughing

He understands there’s a time and place for more difficult and painful emotions, but why on earth wouldn’t he go out of his way to ensure those times and places are as few and far between as possible????? 🤨

So, obvi, he more than willingly goes out of his way ☺️

“Do you want me to say something?” his quiet breath warms your ear, softening the frustration growing in your chest

“I dunno,” you sigh, gesturing hopelessly at the person who’d just cut you in line, “We’re all going to the same place anyway.”

“True,” he shrugs, “But that was quite rude and noticeable of them.”

“Do you want to say something?” you tease, elbowing his side with amused fondness

“Not if it discomforts you.”

“It wouldn’t discomfort me,” you mumble, cheeks darkening nonetheless, “You’re so cute.”

Albeit, you aren’t sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed when he somehow intimidates the person who cut you into leaving altogether 😅

On one hand, you know Sanemi has your back ☺️

On the other hand, you aren’t 100% positive that that’s a good thing 😬

“I swear, does that bitch even know I exist?!” 😤

… 🫣

“I bet she doesn’t! Otherwise she wouldn’t dare treat you like-” 😤

“And this is why she doesn’t know you exist.” 🥲

“Pardon?” 😐

“Sanemi, I love you, and I so appreciate how ready to go to war you are for me, but-”

“Ooh darling, you have no idea. Go to war? I will be the war for you.” 😤

“So sweet,” your eyes roll, “How about you just let me handle it?”

“And how are you handling it?” he scoffs, “With smiley face emojis?” 🙄

…

“You deserve kindness and honesty. Not her manipulative bitch shit.”

“I’ll block her.”

“You what?!” 😳

“Would that suffice?” 😅

“Actually… yeah.” Sanemi is very surprised. Gushing now, “I’m so fucking proud of you.” 🥰

It’s kind of alarming when Muichiro speaks up for you

Bc you get a faint taste of what he was like before he’d really opened up to love 😕

And that Tokito Muichiro is sharp and cold as steel w/ a -139% tolerance for bullshit

Impossible to impress 😬

But your Muichiro hugs you when you’re feeling low, rests his chin on your shoulder while you do your best to draft a stern, confident text msg to your asshole “friend”, and is more than happy to tell you what he would do were he in your shoes

… you usually ignore his advice 😅

Buuut sometimes he reaches over and hits SEND before you can stop him 🫠

“MUI! I was going to delete some of that!” 😭

“Nah, it’s great as is.” 😎

[luxthestrange]

KNY Incorrect quotes#139 The handcuffs...

In the event of a puppet master demon keeping people safe and tying them up, you three are left with an issue with what to tie them...

Iguro: Who do we know that has handcuffs? Kyojuro: Well Y/n and I!!!- Kakushi!Y/n*elbows Kyojuro*... Kyojuro: ...wouldn't know!!!

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Kyojuro is coming clean to his father about how he is now married to his kakushi...

Kyojuro: Y/n and I got married!! Shinjuro*Reading the newspaper has met you...and has received threats from you* Don't share your personal problems with everyone.

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Uzui: Make her pussy wet not her eyes Mitsuri: Make his dick hard not his life Kyojuro: Break their bed not their heart Iguro: Play with her boobs not her feelings Kakushi!Y/n: Get on his dick not his nerves Giyuu: Always salt your pasta while boiling it

Part 3 of:

[beddybites]

mom said it was my turn to genderbend the hashira

[vazlinet]

Mitsuri 1920s au