#demon slayer fix it

[eternally-tired-muffin]

some doodles of the hashira surplus au I made while travelling :3

[just-null]

i would love to see mitsuri in your art style! im not sure if you post girls to often but i saw you drew daki and thought i'd ask! anyways have an amazing night or dayy!!!

LOVE BEAM CANON

i dont draw women often but i do enjoy the moments when i do, it's very fun!! i really like mitsuri. she scratches the dumb strong airhead with a good heart character type that i adore.

a bonus kimetsu gakuen meme except the version where MY BOYS ARE THERE.

[og image under the cut!]

[xxlady-lunaxx]

i will never stop with them

[bbq-potato-chip]

this is my son he has every disease

[foxnikki]

No because I do not understand why most of the villains are so hot, like- look at them!

I know they're villain, please leave me alone-

[reineydraws]

renkaza sketches based off the opening scene of the bear 2x09 bc the shots were nice :') less nice was me squinting at the low-lit scenes trying to make out their features and getting mad at my screen's glare but i digress 😂

[honeygutzz-kmt]

The mist reemerges, dancing under moonlight...

Spoilers under cut!

Part of an AU where Muichiro survives the battle against Kokushibo. He still loses his hands and a foot but Kotetsu creates prosthetics for him based off Yoriichi Type 0. Muichiro is out of commission for about a year. This is the night he returns to slaying demons.

[eternally-tired-muffin]

Shinobu enjoying watching demons suffer with exactly zero pretenses in the hashira surplus au

Edit: pose ref

[komoboko]

okie hihi its me again, I'll resending the request plantonic with teen-reader and (fatherfigure)kokupuffs

It will be simple same sitution with tanjiro and nezuko, but differeny dymanic, kokupuffs trained reader with his moon breathing(as a spy in the corps), and he continues teaching them until somewhere along the year, he grow attach to them so he discards the die of the spy in the corps and continues to train and raise reader, and reader grow wonderfully, time skip- reader hearing about what happened to tanjiro in hashira meeting, and just have a blow oit panic attack, what if someone found out their teacher(father) is a demon? a upper rank one? and just kokushibo comforting them quietly, pat pat the head of smt.

just fatherly love.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

Platonic kokushibo tsugikuni x teen!reader

I wrote this three different times to get to the same ending the writing block is killing me

Your method of training was much more unconditional compared to any other slayer to say the least.

You still learned all the basic, excelled well in them to. Techniques came much easier to you and you had a great mentor, it was only the little things that made it different. Maybe the small part that you started to adapt moon breathing into your skills, a breathing style not picked up or used by slayers for a long time. That’s fine, maybe you were just ahead of your game.

Maybe it was the fact that you mentor just happened to be a demon, an upper moon. Which demons are obviously prohibited in the corps, but upperanks specifically? If they even find out about it they’ll be hunt down and hopefully executed immediately. That’s not to good is it..

Kokushibo was an interesting man. His way of going about things is different, this thought process is different, his entire body structure is different. Everything about him was strange. Some ways it still surprises you that he even decided to help you in the first place.

He never planned keeping you around for this long in the first place. It was only so he could blend in with the rest of the slayers nearby, making him less suspicious in case anything happened. He trained you for a while, he was more surprised by how quickly you grown. He didn’t expect himself to grow attached to you. He tried to fight it off for a while he really did but it just wouldn’t work.

So reluctantly he persisted, trained you much longer than a spy mission would require. As much as he denies it he can’t say he doesn’t look out for you. He’ll tell you it’s nothing and you’ll just need to repay him for doing this but you know he doesn’t want anything from you in return. He’s surprised at how far you’ve grown in moon breathing. He’s proud of your growth and he doesn’t regret taking you in while he could.

You’ve been practicing for awhile with kokushibo and with others in the corps. You wouldn’t ever tell them how you learned it, you’d just tell them it came natural to you. That’s all the information they need to know, especially after what you seen today.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop you just happen to be in the area at the same moment and the same time. The new boy you seen at the corps was outed for smuggling a demon, having been protecting his little sister in the giant box he carried around. You could sympathize for him as you had your own situation with handling a demon. You couldn’t blame him for his actions, but you’d never say this out loud. You wouldn’t dare.

It surprised you how harsh the boy was treated, even more so at how his little sister was treated. It brought you even more fear at realize the repercussions of anybody finding out how you’ve even trained. Seeing how bad this boy was treated despise being here for such little time, it would be devastating if they figured out how long this “scandal” has been going on.

Panic soon began to consume you as your breathing picked up and your eyes widen more as you darted off. Running into the woods in no particular direction as your breathing soon became much more intense as fear only seemed to control your actions even more. Your body leans up against a tree as you slowly shuffle down. Your knees pressed to your chest as you stare at the leaves on the grassy floor.

You were unaware of kokushibo presence who awkwardly stood behind the tree. He was aware of the demon child and its slayer brother as muzan had informed him. Your mumbling only confirmed his suspicions on what he believed happened. He walks to stand beside you unsure if the first way to approach this, he never needed to really comfort you in this manor. The only time he did so was to motivate you to train more, nothing like this.

His hands finds it way to the top of your head as he stiffly attempts to pat your head to comfort you. You only stare up at him as your distress is still present, “what if they find out? Especially if they realize hiw long this has been going on?!” You mumble as the fear in your voice is evident. Kokushibo only shakes his head at you to stop yourself from continuing on.

“Nonsense child, mortals like you are easy to deceive. If they ever do I..” he stops himself he can’t tell you he would kill them, it would only cause you to fall deeper into despair than you already are. “I will personally come to defend your honor.” He finishes his sentence before looking down at you again, hoping to bring you so firm of closure.

You couldn’t help but still fear some fear, no matter how calming the demon’s words were meant to be. “I know I know, but if they even find out for a second I’d be cursed. Banished from the corps, I’d be persecuted by every slayer around. It would be an unforgivable action possibly.” You ramble out as kokushibo only kneels down to get closer to your eye level. Before you can continue he only stops you before you can say more.”

“Being a child like yourself should not be some sort a sin.” He states staring back at you with all six of his eyes. “If they even have any theory of you working under me I shall take the weight and th blame. A child like yourself shouldn’t and won’t feel any remorse nor any pain. I will make sure of this myself.” His words are meaningful in deep despite the strange way he puts it.

Your eyes only drift back to the ground as silence falls between the two of you. Your knees shift before your head turns to look at kokushibo. Who can tell hopes you understand what he was trying to tell you. He shifts as he stares out into the distance becoming stiff when he feels a pair of arms around him. He blinks when you hug him not very sure on how to react quickly.

He sits still for a moment before slowly just letting you hug him. One of his arms wrap around you in hopes to comfort you a little bit more. He feels you calming down more and it eases him to know your original state of panic washes away. Even to this day despite how long he’s been strolling the earth he does not get why he feels any attachment towards you in the first place. Never the less he embraces it.

You on the other hand are grateful for his presence just being here with you in the first place. You know he’s gonna go on with his “mortals are insignificant” and his “humans are so stubborn and so weak at the same time” rambles later on. You can appreciate him being here to give you his piece of mind now and to really tell you he’s here for you even if he can’t express it right.

Your mentor still is pretty weird, immoral to others. You can’t say you don’t appreciate him being him whether others will like it or not.

[mooechi]

it's time for a taisho secret ‼️

[upperranktwo]

☆Gifset Per Episode - Kimetsu No Yaiba☆

Swordsmith Village EP06 - Aren't You Going to Become a Hashira?

[wiklm]

IN HONOR OF MY VERY COOL FRIEND @interstate35south DRAWING TRANSFEM GENYA I ALSO DREW HER. OH HOW I LOVE YOU FEM GENYA

[xxlady-lunaxx]

it’s hard to tell how tengen should feel. sitting here, waiting quietly as sanemi sleeps. he replays everything that had happened in the last few hours, folding his hands over his lap. he gazes uncertainly down at sanemi’s pale, almost sickly face. it’s resting now, at least. slack and unlike the previous defeated expression he’d held a moment ago.

somewhere around noon, sanemi’s crow had come to the uzui household asking for tengen, and only tengen. confused, but with time to spare, tengen heeded the order and headed over to sanemi’s estate. on first glance, it had seemed normal. but tengen has always had tuned hearing. he could tell, as he slowed, that there was something unnervingly off.

with sudden concern, he’s at sanemi’s door in an instant. he knocks, waits, knocks again. after another minute of waiting, he hears reluctant footsteps trudging towards the door. a hoarse, “uzui?” from the other side before the door opens to reveal a disheveled sanemi. which is putting it lightly. sanemi’s hair is a mess, his skin much too pale, and eyes sunken in, supporting eye bags so dark they could rival the feathers of his crow.

“shinazugawa,” tengen says, his worry increasing by the second. he’s let inside by sanemi, who stumbles aside before closing the door. “what happened?”

sanemi merely shakes his head, swallowing once. and then again. it strikes sanemi, suddenly, that the place reeks of alcohol. oh, fuck. sanemi shuffles towards another door, opening it and stepping through. he’s clearly expecting tengen to follow, which he does. he finds himself in a bedroom—sanemi’s. the room is in even more disorder than sanemi, and it looks like a group of demons could’ve pummeled through it several times to get to this level of disorganized. many things catch tengen’s eye, but the first thing is a bundle of purple fabric: a stark contrast against the grayish white of the futon it sits on.

it takes a moment for him to place it in his mind, pair it with the initial owner of the clothing. but he does recognize it, more specifically from the days spent training the lower slayers before the war. and then the name comes to mind, and he breathes: “genya…”

genya shinazugawa. sanemi shinazugawa. shinazugawa. oh, fuck.

something about sanemi’s had pulled tugs of familiarity in tengen’s mind, but he’d yet to place it until now. because he’d been the same, once before. when he was younger—burying himself in his room as he struggled with the truth of everything. and how the reality crashed upon him too many times to count, awakening him from dreams he’d pretended were real only to be cruelly torn back into the ache and the pain of what it actually was. he remembered that his wives had been main reason he’d managed to pull himself out of his current of thoughts enough to run away from his clan. back then, he’d just recently married them, yet they were the most supportive of him and he’s made sure to cherish their every action because they had done so much for him he felt he could never repay.

but sanemi has nobody. in the past, there had been people. fleeting or not, there had been. he hadn’t been alone until now. even tengen, who could toy with the possibility that he was something for sanemi, could see it. he knows. that sanemi is truly, and utterly alone.

he recalls, vaguely, the name masachika kumeno, and sanemi’s final acceptance in kagaya. the momentary something that kanae had managed to snag from sanemi before she’d died. the close friendship obanai and sanemi were able to build, the bridge between them never breaking. and now, tengen can see that genya had been so much more than sanemi let on. because of course he had. even tengen, knowing how badly his father had managed to twist his younger brother’s mind into one full of thorns and knotted vines, had still cared for him. had rejected the idea of killing them, despite the turmoil he’d been. sanemi and genya were no different, it seemed. but now, it feels like caring had much more consequences than if sanemi had truly hated genya.

the thoughts flit through tengen’s mind in an instant, and he clamps his mouth shut, realizing a moment too late that he shouldn’t have spoken his thoughts. the name. genya’s name.

sanemi sags, wobbling enough so that he has to lean against the door for support. “fuck,” he mumbles. “fuck.” he repeats it again, and then again and again, like a mantra. like it’s the only thing grounding him. and tengen understands. he agrees, silently, and then interrupts. because sanemi will get nowhere this way.

“shinazugawa.”

there’s a brief, sober understanding that flickers through sanemi. he pauses his chanting, swallowing again. then he rambles, quietly, “fuck, i’m sorry, uzui. i’m sorry.”

“i know. come on,” tengen says. and sanemi follows him, manages barely to guide him to the bathhouse. then he waits patiently as tengen fills the bath and warms the water. he obeys when he’s made to undress and sink into the tub. he’s quiet all of a sudden, though his jaw works itself. as if he wants to say many things, but can’t find it in himself to speak.

tengen washes him gently, because sanemi feels so fragile. and he’s afraid that if he holds him too tightly, or nudges too suddenly, sanemi will break. physically, sanemi is the strongest anyone could be. not in the type of strength that gyomei held, but with the sheer will sanemi had to persevere. it allowed him to live through things no human should be able to. yet now, sanemi feels as if he’s completely given up on living. somehow, tengen senses that the vulnerability that sanemi’s displaying is his way of telling him that there’s little to be done now except hope. sanemi isn’t one to let himself be defeated. but here he is. eyes closed, lips moving in words that never form, his body limp and at tengen’s complete mercy. god, fuck.

once sanemi’s clean, washed from the prior weeks of negligence, tengen dresses him in a somewhat wrinkled but relatively alright robe, then props him up somewhere safe to sit. he hurries to fix up sanemi’s room as much as he can in ten minutes, focusing on the futon before tucking sanemi to sleep. once he’s sure sanemi’s comfortable, he begins to clean the rest of the room quietly.

he puts away the clothes to wash—including genya’s—and rids of empty bottles or discarded food. he does as much as he can without being loud until he’s satisfied enough. leaving the clothes to soak in water for some time, he comes back to the room and settles beside the bed. he has no doubt he’d hear sanemi awaken no matter where in the house he is, but he wants to be there. because he knows that, even if he’s nothing compared to genya or masachika or anyone sanemi had loved, tengen had been a hashira. and a hashira’s duty was to hold up the people who couldn’t, support the ones who were too weak to do so themselves. sanemi would understand, and he does, really. because for the first time, he’d depended on tengen. he’d called him over and allowed him to do everything for him. for once.

tengen shifts, torn between watching sanemi dutifully or distracting himself from his concern by doing something active. he settles with staying when sanemi turns slightly on his side, facing tengen. he wishes he could do more for sanemi. but for now, he will do what he can. he isn’t even sure if there’s anything else he could possible do. and so he sits there quietly, waiting, and watching, and hoping sanemi will be okay.

[cheekykitsune]

Agitation

Hey guys!

So here's a little Kyojuro x Reader piece for you all! It's set in the Mafia AU and while it's not super spicy, it does have a certain kind of tension to it.

Now, this post is technically an hour late...but that's because I went to bed early last night, woke up late and then had things to do, cause I'm a functioning and apparently moderately functioning adult.

Usually I queue these up to post at certain times so that I can work on other things, but either way, it's here now! And that's the important thing.

Anyways, go ahead and enjoy the mafia-drenched charm of Kyojuro!

   You blinked, barely catching the sound of the study door slamming shut over the frantic footsteps that now echoed down the hallway.

  Two of Kyojuro’s subordinates—grown men—rushed past you. Looking completely and utterly terrified; avoiding eye-contact with you as if your gaze might drag them back into the lion’s den they had just escaped from.

  You tilted your head, eyebrows raising in a mix of surprise and curiosity. Kyojuro so very rarely lost his temper—and when he did, well, you couldn’t blame them for wanting to be anywhere but in his line of sight. Still though, it was curious, you hadn’t heard any shouting. No breaking glass. No blood. Just silence.

  Which, in all honesty, was worse.

  Deciding to satiate your curiosity, you made your way over to his study—each step light and purposeful, making little sound on the polished floors. You eased the door open with a gentle push, slipping through the gap and letting it close behind you with a firm click.

  “Kyojuro?”

  You kept your voice light—careful—as you called out to him. Treating the situation like you were stepping into a cage with a sleeping beast; but not out of fear. No, it was out of respect.

  He didn’t turn around. Kyojuro stood with his back to you, shoulders taut beneath the dark stretch of his tailored shirt. One hand held the neck of a crystal decanter, the other steadying a heavy glass as amber liquid sloshed into it with a slow, controlled pour.

  The bar cart beside the window caught the late afternoon sun, casting golden reflections along the edges of his broad frame.

  You lingered at the door for a moment longer, watching the tension roll beneath the surface; then, your steps brought you closer. Slow, but unhesitant, until you were only a few feet behind him.

  “Kyojuro.” You spoke again, softer this time, but still loud enough to catch his attention—though he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he raised the glass to his lips, took a measured sip before finally speaking.

  “They forgot who they were speaking to.”

  The words made your stomach flutter with anticipation. That tone of voice always made you react like that; it told you that your Alpha was agitated—sure, he appeared to be calm and in control of himself; but experience told you that if you pushed just right, you were in for a fantastic experience.

  “I see…” You hummed, drawing closer until you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. “And do you think you managed to remind them?”

  Kyojuro’s broad shoulders rose with a breath—controlled, but tight. He set the glass down on the bar cart with a clink, knuckles flexing as though he was trying to resist the urge to crush it in his palm.

  His head turned slightly, just enough so that you could see the sharp line of his jaw. “Oh, I reminded them.”

  Your lips curled as you watched him. “And I’d bet you didn’t even have to raise your voice.”

  Kyojuro turned fully to face you, his gaze meeting yours—his face was composed, but his scent told a different story. Smoke. Spice. And the barely-there bite of aggression still simmering under his skin.

  “You know me better than that, Love.” He chuckled humourlessly, his voice low and smooth. “I never need to shout to make a point.”

  No. He didn’t. His presence alone was enough. You had seen full-grown men fall to pieces under nothing more than a look from him. But that wasn’t what made you step closer, and it certainly wasn’t what made your fingers itch to touch him.

  It was that low, controlled rage—the kind that made every muscle in his body hum like a drawn bow.

  “You do have a way of putting people in their place, I’ll admit that.” You smiled, eyes drifting down to his chest before dragging back up to his meet his gaze. “But it does make me wonder where my place is today…”

  In an instant, his arm was around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. The heat of his body poured into yours, his other hand sliding up your spine to cradle the back of your neck; tilting your head up as he looked down at you with narrowed eyes and a dangerous grin.

  “Careful.” He murmured; voice rough. “I’m not in the mood to be teased, my beautiful Omega.”

  “I’m not teasing.” You whispered back to him, tilting your head to the side, your breath brushing against his lips. “I’m offering myself as a distraction.”

  The growl that rumbled from his chest made your thighs clench. Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t soft, nor was it sweet. It was a claiming.

  An open-mouthed, bruising, breath-stealing kiss that pulled a soft whimper from your throat. His tongue pushed past your lips, tangling with yours, demanding more—demanding everything—as his hand tightened at your waist; fingers curling possessively.

  Your hands gripped at the front of his shirt, needing something to hold onto as the taste of rum and smoke flooded your senses.

  He broke the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling with a sharp edge. “You always come to me when I’m like this. Why is that?”

  You blinked up at him, more than a little breathless. “Because when you’re like this, you need me.”

  A dangerous grin stretched across his lips at your answer.

  “You’re right.”

  And then he was lifting you—strong arms gripping under your thighs as he carried you across the room; each step filled with barely-leashed hunger. Your back hit the desk with a gentle thud, papers sliding from beneath you and fluttering to the floor.

  You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands were tugging your thighs wider, sliding up higher while his gaze dropped to your lips; a low rumble building in his chest again.

  His fingers moved away from your thighs and to his belt, undoing it slowly. Taking his time and enjoying the needy expression on your features.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, (Name)…” He trailed off, dragging the leather through the hoops of his pants. “Then I won’t be gentle with you.”

  You shivered in delight at the lowly uttered warning; delighted. You didn’t want gentle from your agitated Alpha—you wanted everything he had to give, and then some.

[duncans-idahoe]

In another universe….

Rando Journalist (for some reason): What are your thoughts on the former flame hashira, Rengoku Shinjuro?

Me: I respect him as a pillar and swordsman but not as a person!

Rando: What about the rumor that if you couldn’t marry Kyojuro you would’ve been his stepmom?

Me, while aggressively covering Kyo’s ears: WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT

[navajja]

🌸🌿have you ever been looked at like that?🌿🌸