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extra-v1rgin · 5 months

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This fic is,,, weird. But I enjoyed writing it. I still feel slightly embarrassed posting it however lol

Root idea inspired by phantasmiafxndom

Cw for mentions of child abuse *cough cough* Shinjuro

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Demons, in their current form, were not just disgusting to Kyojuro but also pathetic in a way that made his heart burn with anger. Decades ago it had been perfectly fine to kill them. The creatures were a scar upon humanity and extermination was agreed upon by nearly everyone.

Now people treated them like a nuisance at worst, some even tended to coddle them. Protests grew daily, demanding the demons be treated more humanely. Humanely? For creatures that used to eat humans, still did in some cases. It was a fate kinder than they deserved.

Despite Kyojuro’s distaste most people didn’t share his feelings on the matter. Perhaps the most upsetting was the fact that Senjuro had complete adoration for demons. He tried his best to tolerate his brothers ideas, but couldn’t often hide his disturbance.

It only got worse when a few of Senjuro’s schoolmates got demons of their own. They had become a new fad, and the ultimate status symbol. Why have a dog or cat when instead you could find a demon who you could dress up with hair to brush.

Even his own brother cooed over the creatures. One or two of his classmates (alongside a few of Kyojuro’s own students) sported such popular pets and enjoyed showing them off. During lunch students would gather around pictures to oo and ah over whatever unique features the particular example had.

And while Rengoku worked a humble job as a teacher, their father still had plenty of money to spare even after retirement, something his younger brother was well aware of. It was no surprise when Senjuro too started to beg for a pet. The man was less secretive of his distaste inside his own home. He wasn’t harsh or cruel with the boy, simply firm. Senjuro had asked for pets before. This obsession would fade much like rest.

—-

Six months later Kyojuro gave in. Senjuro had earned some sort of reward. The elder brother didn’t like to leave the home often, not for elongated periods of time. Shinjuro mostly kept to himself now but it wasn’t impossible for their father to lash out. These incidents were few and far between. The only connection between them was that they occurred when Kyojuro wasn’t in the home.

But he had a job to do. Volunteering for an overnight field trip had perhaps been a mistake on his own part. In the past Senjuro had been able to find appropriate accommodations for the night or two his brother was gone. This time it was simply a combination of all the wrong things coming together.

He shouldn’t have believed his younger brother’s insistences that everything would be ok. Uzui or Sanemi would loathe watching the children but he could’ve forced one of the other men to take his place. That didn’t change the fact that he was the one who left on the trip. Everything on his end went rather smoothly. The children were rowdy, but didn’t cause any major problems. After constantly checking in and several reassurances from Senjuro he pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

They rushed forward again when Kyojuro arrived home. Even upon his return his brother greeted him with a smile and warm hug. It would’ve been a nice welcome under most circumstances. Senjuro wore a high collar, creeping above his neck. It wasn’t entirely inappropriate for the weather but wasn’t part of his typical ensemble.

Rengoku went to pull at the turtleneck. Though the boy nervously tried to avoid the attempts it wasn’t as if he could run away.

“It’s fine aniue,” he mumbled. Kyojuro saw a purple spot forming. It wasn’t too large, not the largest Senjuro or himself had ever recieved, but still there nonetheless. Softly he brushed the area with his thumb. His younger brother let out a little puff of air despite his attempts to hold in any reaction.

Finally allowed to pull away he backs up. Already his eyes are clouding with tears. Kyojuro waits for a moment, gently reaching his hand out so it barely hovers above the boy’s shoulder. When Senjuro leans into the touch he’s quickly smothered in an overbearing hug. He doesn’t quite sob, but tears soak into the elder brother’s shirt.

Even though Senjuro is mature (which sometimes makes Rengoku guilty in a way, because he shouldn’t have to be so mature) he’s still fourteen. Beyond that he’ll always be the younger of the two. Kyojuro had gotten used to sharing a bed and taking care of a sick brother and buying birthday gifts the moment their mother died, when Senjuro had barely started school. It feels natural to pick him up and settle on one of the softer couches. He’s small enough to still be able to curl up in Rengoku’s lap.

The two are happy to sit there for awhile. Senjuro was never much of a talker so the man doesn’t push him for now. Tears roll down his cheeks, which Rengoku swears still carry a bit of baby fat.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left. I’ll be more careful next time. You didn’t-“

“It’s not your fault aniue. F-father just- he got mad because I dropped a plate and it’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” More water wells up in the corner of his eyes. After sucking in a shuddering breath he tries again. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

“Ok.” Kyojuro’s eyes soften. “You did a good job though.” He shouldn’t have had to, but Senjuro’s been forced to grow quickly. “We’ll do something for you though. Whaddya want? We can get dessert or go to that fancy ramen place or whatever else.”

Senjuro sniffles again. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“Of course I won’t, you can choose anything.”

“Ok.”

—-

A demon was not was Kyojuro had in mind. He had lightly protested at first but after Senjuro relented with a horribly sad look the man ended up being the one to insist. He bit back the opposing words on his tongue and tried to be supportive.

It was obvious the boy had been thinking about this for quite some time. He already had a list of several local rescues and even pulled an older futon into one of the many spare rooms they had.

Rengoku had trouble keeping a solid smile on his face, but even when it slipped his brother didn’t notice.

So they (well mostly Senjuro, who finally insists on going one day after school) arrive at a vaguely creepy facility, white walls with rows of cages on either side. The cashier is a young woman who drags her voice out too much, weirdly high in an attempt to appear more friendly. Her lax appearance was strange with the rest of the sterile environment.

Senjuro was free to pick one of his own out. Kyojuro found all of them equally repulsive, and had no preference for which one ended up in their home. The only thing he wanted was for his brother to change his mind and let them leave empty handed. He felt bad for thinking such bitter thoughts considering what had propelled their visit. Everytime he tried to improve his attitude Rengoku would catch sight of meat sitting in feeding bowls or little signs declaring the temperament of a specific pet.

Senjuro was firm in his choices however and they ended up with something vaguely human, though that wasn’t very remarkable. It (They, Senjuro kept on insisting, like it was an actual being) had greyish skin and sunken eyes. With a few random spikes and other inhuman qualities it was pretty typical in terms of demons. It wasn’t the most repulsive one there, plenty had more appalling traits like multiple eyes or huge fists perfect for clawing people.

The chatty saleswoman cooed as she opened up the cage and beckoned you forward. “Good choice! This one’s quiet, but the most well-behaved cutie you’ve ever seen.” As you drag yourself out of the cage and rise to your full height Rengoku grimaces. You don’t look particularly threatening, smaller than him with blank eyes and greasy hair. ‘Cute’ is not the word that comes to mind.

Hesitantly taking the new leash clipped to your collar Senjuro tugs you forward. You move along with the motions, following quick enough that the lead never draws taut. One of your feet drags slightly each time you take a step.

“Hi.” The boy is so quiet as he whispers it. He seems a little shy, reverent maybe? Holding eye contact for only a moment or two he looks away and back towards his brother. “I want this one aniue.” The shyness holds as he

at Kyojuro.

The man bites his tongue for a minute and tries to think of an appropriate response. “And you’re sure?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice.

It’s detected anyways. Senjuro’s brow furrows slightly. His brother is never truly angry, but annoyed seems like a just reaction. “Yes! I promise.” The words rush out quickly in a way that leaves no room for argument.

“Awesome! And just so you know each adoption comes with some basic care items, a bit of meat, feeding bowls, um I think there’s a booklet included.” The saleswoman bounces around the counter and roots in the drawers underneath. “Is this your first one? Honestly I thought about adopting in the past but after spending all my time here I’ve gotten my fill of demons.”

Senjuro nods along politely to each sentence. Rengoku merely stares out the window and waits until she asks for a card. When she finally finishes her spiel he slaps the card down. Demons can be low-maintenance (in actuality that means negligent owners who can’t quite get in trouble with how resilient demons are) but when properly taken care of they can be rather expensive. The cost of meat alone, synthetic human or the animal kind, can scare many away. Money here isn’t the problem.

Kyojuro has to carry all the accessories back to the car. His brother opted to chose about a dozen different types of collars and bowls and whatever else in his excitement. Trailing behind slightly he still holds your leash in hand. Every few steps he’ll nervously look back as if to make sure you’re still following. You don’t react to any of these glances, don’t react to anything at all other than stopping when he does and moving forward when prompted.

Once you’re brought to the car Kyojuro directs you towards the back, where several plastic covers have been put over the seats. Senjuro has to lean over to buckle you, jolting each time his skin brushes against yours. Pulling away he hovers for a moment before his brother directs him towards the front seat.

—-

Their house is nice. You’re led to a mostly bare room which is dubbed as yours. The older Rengoku dumps the toys in the corner and is quick to leave afterwards. You can still smell him sharply though, lingering just beyond the doorway.

The younger one parades you around the room to show off the space. Currently there is a futon in the corner with a shelf pressed against the opposite wall. Senjuro promises to get you more to furnish the space but it makes no difference to you.

“I’ll see if there’s a salon or something like that. They can bathe you and help with your nails.”

They’re claws, pointed and sharp but also splintering from lack of care. With no other way to respond you give a dull nod.

“I didn’t really think about clothes, but I do have an oversized shirt for you. It’s more like a dress really.” While explaining he plucks the piece from the bottom of your new belongings. “Aniue might have some old clothes that fit you, just until I go shopping.”

At that your mouth drops into a sharper frown. His brother smells like anger and hatred and something too harsh for your nose. It’s not as if you’re not used to being disliked. Demons generally don’t get along with one another and being put in a shelter usually meant whatever previous owner you had wasn’t great. His distaste though was sharp on your tongue as the smell wafted through the air. It wasn’t like casual neglect or dehumanization— there wasn’t even subtle joy taken in the sight of your current state, he didn’t want you there at all.

Put off by the thought of the man you turn away and crawl underneath your futon. It’s warm against your chilled skin. Peeking your head out from the thick sheets you watch as he spreads the rest of the accessories around the space. The whole time he talks softly, not to you specifically, but fills the space with sound. He’s quiet and doesn’t say things pointlessly which keeps your annoyance from rising.

By the time he finishes you’re already half asleep. You’ve spent the last few months sitting in a cage most of the day, even just moving from one home to another has worn you out. Nerves alone keep your eyes open, at least while he’s in the room. The moment he leaves however your willpower thins.

—-

Days pass slowly. Senjuro feed’s you before he heads to school, at which point you’re mostly left alone. Kyojuro occasionally passes the room, but never pauses. A few times when it’s absolutely silent you’ll poke your head out of your room. You don’t ever end up passing the threshold of it though. Nobody’s invited you outside of the space and you don’t fancy getting punished for such a small journey.

Mostly you nap or pace around your room. There’s not much in terms of entertainment but it’s not a horrible existence. Senjuro is only gone for a few hours. When he gets home the boy will do homework in your room. It becomes so much of a habit that an extra desk gets shoved into the space. While he works you rest at his feet or watch him through your blankets.

Your routine rarely shifts, which is nice in its own way. Change is more often bad than good, but the humans seem to have their own ideas about what you need.

This afternoon when Senjuro enters his brother follows. When you sense Rengoku approaching however you try to scramble backwards. Senjuro’s arms stick out in front of him as he tries to calm you. You’re not very happy but you soften slightly anyways.

Now that you’re paying attention his words make real sense. “I want you and aniue to get along. He’s not mean so you can’t be either.” His brother stands in the doorway, looking threatening still.

“Please aniue, you have to be nice.” Senjuro looks up at the man. “Can’t you just pet them once? I don’t like it when you ignore each other.”

Rengoku approaches you carefully. In an attempt to please his brother the man wasn’t quite as brash as usual. But his feelings were still clear on his face, and the smell of his anger flows through the air. You’re tempted to back up even more, hiding flat beneath the chair.

In turn his expression only grows more displeased.

After a few minutes of him standing angrily in the middle of the room Senjuro observes the threatening aura easily and was quick to intervene. “Aniue! You have to be more gentle.” He runs to your side. Though the boy wasn’t particularly strong you allowed him to pull you into his lap. His soft hands run over your hair in soothing motions. “See, you have to be nice if you want them to trust you.” While he continued to cradle you an eye opened to peek at the elder brother. He looked even more upset than before, which brought a sly smile to your face.

With your sharp nose you could smell how hard Kyojuro had bit his tongue. The faintest smell of blood drifted in the air while saliva pooled in your mouth. Turning your smug face away you attempted to burrow further into the carpet and soft fabric. You roll around in the gentle feeling of his hands and the sweet smell of his clothes. He must’ve been cooking earlier, something sweet like sugar or baking mix is smeared over the front of his clothes.

Though you’ve hidden your face Kyojuro’s presence is still clear. When he settles beside you all your muscles pull tight. His hands graze over you twice while you lie as still as possible.

“Alright, is that good?” The man is already standing up.

Senjuro doesn’t seem satisfied at all, with your performance alongside his brother’s, but nods anyways. It seems the mood has gone sour, the way he leaves soon after. He tries not to make it feel like a punishment but a bit of guilt gnaws at your bones.

—-

The next day Senjuro is back to his usual routine although the air still feels a bit too quiet. Worry keeps you alert to his movements. A few times he opens his mouth without speaking. On the third or fourth try he finally manages to get a few words out.

“I’m having aniue take you to get all washed up and everything tomorrow. You have to be good otherwise he won’t want to do this for me again.” His sternness is in full force, and surprisingly authentic. Blinking up at him you give a curt nod, waiting for the petting to resume.

It does soon enough and you’re happy to settle back down.

—-

The spa- salon or whatever they call themselves is surprisingly pleasant. You’re shy at first. There’s lots of people there, other demons too. Some are carefully restrained, muzzles and harnesses and even one fashioned in a straight jacket.

You wish Senjuro had taken you. The boy would’ve coaxed you inside gently and explained everything along the way. Rengoku drags you towards the receptionist and clips your collar to one of the tethers there. As soon as you’re checked in and given a pickup time he leaves you there. You’re not shaking— that would be cowardly —but there’s a nerve running through your body.

The woman who takes you is nice. She has pretty pink hair with a friendly face, but ultimately is unfamiliar in a way that makes you resistant. When you don’t move with her she trues to guide you with a hand. It’s so warm again your skin. Senjuro’s touches are always light and the woman isn’t rough but it’s rougher than he is.

The hiss isn’t purposeful, not even threatening. It works to describe your discomfort. She tries soothing voices to guide you towards one of the chairs, but you stay rooted to the spot.

“Five steps ok? Why don’t you move with me and we can sit down.” When she nudges your legs you finally take one step. The woman guides you slowly until you settle down on one of the recliners. You’re still stiff, but in a position where they can start to take care of you.

Lots of different people do lots of different things. A man trims your talons and applies a thick shiny coat over them. He offers color but you staunchly shake your head.

Another person trims your hair. She carefully moves it away from your face and takes off a minimal amount. You can’t really see much of a difference, too distracted by all the little ends that have scattered across your face. The woman dusts them off with a fluffy brush that makes you sneeze. Everyone nearby coos after and you feel like more of a lapdog than a demon.

Someone else leads you over to a private bathroom, where you’re promptly scrubbed down. They use lots of bubbles and scented oils that edge on being too much for your senses. The after-effect is nice though, a calm lavender scent that’s much more pleasant than dirt and raw meat (even if the latter was tastier). You’re thrown into an oversized sweatshirt with matching pants, soft fleece lining the inside.

It all goes rather quickly. There’s dozens of new scents and people that cloud your brain. It’s hard to absorb the reality of everything until you’re allowed to actually rest. A side room lets you find a quiet place to curl up and rest.

Even though you’ve done just the barest amount of stumbling around there’s a weight to your bones that drags you down. You can’t remember if you were always like this or if it’s a side effect of being caged for so long. Either way you feel like a poor imitation of what a demon should be. A poodle compared to a wolf.

Part of you doesn’t really care. It’s not like you’ll ever be expected to kill or even hunt. This is the result from years of domestication.

You leave all the wondering for another day. Your mind is just a tired as your body and it’s no surprise when your eyes slip closed.

—-

Kyojuro drags you back into the car after a harsh awakening. You’re still half asleep but stumble out once he has a hand on your leash.

Slumping over in the back seat you drift back in and out of sleep. Everytime the man hits the breaks you jerk forward and wake back up.

But by the time you get home you’ve been knocked out fully. Your head dips downwards only to lose ok up an indeterminate amount of time later.

For a few minutes you wait awkwardly in the car. It’s hard to tell how much time has passed, but in reality it probably hasn’t been too long. Senjuro would’ve come out to wake you if he was home.

You decide nobody else would be inclined to fetch you. Crawling out of the backseat you dart towards the door leading inside.

Unsure of where exactly your room is you’re forced to rely on scent. You’ve never been outside of your room in length, and can’t recall the layout of most of the home.

Currently your strategy is to point your head in one direction and sniff. It seems to be doing a relatively good job of leading you in the right direction, or at least the smell isn’t getting any weaker.

Though much of the house is rather boring, plain walls with nice furniture that doesn’t really tell you anything, you do take note of whatever is a little interesting. There’s fresh flowers in one of the vases along the hallway. They must’ve been cut just a day or two ago. As you pass the kitchen you notice four seats at the dinner table, with room for more if needed. You haven’t heard any guests in the weeks you’ve been here, so it’s an odd sight.

Kyojuro seems to be absent at the moment, making your movements much more relaxed. You don’t drag your feet or wander aimlessly but you’re happy to poke your head in certain places were it doesn’t belong.

One room in particular captures your attention. Most of the home smells the same, with the brother’s scents flowing and ebbing depending on the space. In a darker hallway however there’s the sharp scent of alcohol. Underneath it you can sense another human within, a damp smell like overripe fruit. At first it makes you pause (the only sound is heavy breathing inside the room) and then scurry away from it.

You find your room soon after, happy to dive into your sheets. Pulling off the oversized clothes you’re happier to take in more familiar fragrances.

—-

When Senjuro gets home he showers you with compliments. Fingers sweep through your soft locks.

However he seems determined at ruining your peace. “Wasn’t Aniue great for taking you?” He tries to hide his pointed tone.

You give a non-committal shrug.

The boy huffs but doesn’t leave you like he did last time.

“They were booked too far ahead on Saturdays but next time I’ll plan for that so we can go together.”

Letting out a pleased trill you flop onto the ground.

The boy moves backwards. “Let’s get some food yea?” He waits for you to follow.

Never having been invited out of your room (Kyojuro taking you out earlier was less of an invite and more of a demand) you move hesitantly. Within the home there’s no leash attached to your collar. It’s nice most of the time but you could use it as proper direction for where he wants you to go. Every few steps you end up stopping because you’re so hesitant. You’re just grateful that Senjuro doesn’t mind how slow you make the journey.

The open air of the kitchen makes you nervous. There’s so many places to look that it makes you dizzy.

Senjuro opens the refrigerator. At the bottom there’s stacks of meat, all different kinds. Technically it makes sense. It’s not as if someone is purchasing your food everyday. The steaks and patties you get eat night have to appear from somewhere.

With it all in front of you however saliva fills your mouth.

“You can pick out your dinner this time. I thought that could be fun!” He pulls your arm towards the icy cooler.

Moving slowly you just point to the top of the pile. You’d eat the whole thing if you could, but given the choice to pick one there’s not much difference to you.

Senjuro looks a bit disappointed so you instead take more action. Moving the packages around pointlessly you choose another from somewhere in the middle. The letters outlining it explain nothing to you, but there’s juice and blood flowing around the free spaces. Mostly you’re just excited to run back to your room and sink your teeth into the fat and sinew. It leaves saliva pooling in your mouth.

With slightly shaky hands you hand it over to Senjuro. Even though you know it’ll end up back in your hold your instincts scream at you to keep it. The tips of your fingernails burn as you try to keep your claws in control.

With dilated eyes focused on the meat you don’t notice the smell of alcohol wafting into the room. The younger boy does, and he tries to take your hand and guide you away. As you’re unworried you drag your feet along the way. Ignoring his urgings you’re caught off guard when a hand hooks into the back of your shirt.

Turning around you think it’s Kyojuro who’s grabbed you. They look almost identical but a bit of extra height and some light stubble indicate him as someone else. You may be dumb but you’re not stupid and it’s easy to guess that this is the pairs father. You hadn’t considered the full image of their family, only caring to note those you interacted with.

His anger is different than Kyojuro’s. Is less pointed, engulfing the whole room rather than poking your skin alone. It smells rotten.

“Who brought this damned thing into my house?” Shinjuro’s question doesn’t require an answer, it’s already obvious. You try to turn tail and race into your room once he releases you, but you’ve been turned around and there’s no clear line to the exit. Senjuro reaches out to his father, trying to calm him.

“Aniue said it was ok so I just thought-“

“Kyojuro’s not your father is he?”

“N-no but-“

“Stop letting him act like he runs the fucking household. If he wants to be in charge he can get his own place.” Along with his cruel words his hands twist into fists. As an arm raises Senjuro shakes in anticipation.

You dart forward, nearly knocking the boy over. A strong fist collides with your forehead. You’ve been hit before, but you can’t remember a time a human had been able to hurt you this much.

Knocked off balance you’re happy enough to crouch to the ground. As the room comes back into focus another hand comes towards you. Lifted up harshly you’re face to face with the man. You’re hissing and spitting as you resist Shinjuro’s grip. Lying down and drinking had brought down the man’s physique, but shadows of muscle still remained. He clutches your hair in one hand. The minute you raise your claws he captures your wrists in the other. You try to gnash your teeth and aim yourself at his skin, but you can’t get near him. The best you could do now was lash out with your legs.

Twisting like a serpent you tried to loosen his grip. Senjuro was crying as he pulled on your clothing, trying his best to free you in his own way.

You’re only dropped when a door at the front of the house softly opens and shuts. The noise is barely perceptible to human ears, but Shinjuro still senses it. The moment he pushes you to the ground the man is quick to disappear back into his room.

Senjuro dashes to your side. At the moment you curl into yourself. The bruises around your wrists are already fading but your muscles are stiff when you move.

The boy clutches onto your body like you might be dying. Currently you’re not inclined to brush away his tears though you wish they’d stop.

“What happened here?” For once Kyojuro’s voice isn’t obnoxiously chipper or filled with disgust. There’s a genuine tone that you’ve never heard before. You still don’t bother to glance his way, trying to find comfort on the hard ground.

“F-father he um, he was being mean again and when he tried to grab me they got into a fight.” His voice is still thick with emotion as he crouches over you.

“Oh.” Kyojuro’s surprised. It’s silent for a quick second. “Well are you ok?”

“Aniue! I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” His arms grab your torso and try to lift you. With shaky arms you attempt to help him. There’s no reason you should be in such a weak state, perhaps after being pampered for a bit you’ve lost touch with what it’s like to be beast.

When the eldest is quick to scoop you up you’re at least well enough to let a quiet growl leap out from the back of your throat. You don’t move however. It’d be awful to get dumped on floor again and Kyojuro’s body is very warm against your side.

That doesn’t change the fact that the minute he sets you down into your room you run for your sheets. Hiding beneath them you try to peek without being caught. The worry is worthless because Rengoku has already disappeared and Senjuro is in his place.

He hand feeds you chunks of fancy meat, you think it’s cow, and pets your hair while you try not to fall asleep. The boy is whispering all kinds of praises that melt into one another but the culmination of all of them buzzes under your skin. Senjuro is often quick to praise but you’ve never felt as if it’s been truly earned.

—-

The next day Kyojuro approaches your room (willingly) again. Senjuro is already is his typical spot while you hide in the corner.

You’re surprised, but not enough to move. Glancing up with tired eyes you watch him go towards his brother.

“How come you took them out of the room?”

“I- Aniue! I said I was sorry.”

“I know, I’m not mad or anything ok? You just gotta tell me what’s going on.”

You stick your head out of your bed to listen. Kyojuro gives you a curious glance before looking away.

“Um, Muichiro-kun said it’s good to involve demons with their feedings. It cultivates bonding. He said he saw it in an article online.”

The elder brother sighs deeply. “It shouldn’t have to be this way but I need you to ask me before you do things like this ok? I’m just looking out for you.”

“I’m sorry aniue.”

“Don’t be. I don’t- you shouldn’t have to be sorry. I’ll have a talk with father.”

“It won’t do anything,” he mumbles under his breath. Perhaps Senjuro is feeling especially bitter today.

Kyojuro frowns but can’t muster a response. His eyes sweep over the room before the man turns around to leave.

—-

It’s another day where Senjuro is gone but the eldest is still home. You can’t keep track of the days or form any sort of schedule, you just know this happens on occasion.

You creep out of your room early in the morning. Though you can rely on scent to lead you it’s not as good as simply knowing the space. Every few turns you convince yourself you’re passing something relatively familiar.

After minutes of wandering you pass the room that contains Rengoku. The door is open so you step inside, then back out, and then back in. You’re not sure how to grab his attention.

Turning around you leave, only to re-enter. This time you let your foot collide with the door. The small tapping noise grabs his attention. You try to resist the instinct to hide. For now you just slouch more and hold your arms to your chest.

“What do you want?” Kyojuro speaks normally for once. You could imagine him asking anyone the question.

Peeling back your lips you try to get your vocal chords to form the proper noises. Instead of words you push out a low grumble that leads into a whine. You try the action several times to imitate something he could understand.

Moving closer you attempt the noise once more. His face holds a confusing mix of emotions, still a bit of disgust hidden within the layers.

Bowing your head and rolling your shoulders you hope that body language could bridge the gap in his understanding.

“Are you saying sorry?” At the question you look up and nod eagerly. Your face can’t form a proper friendly smile, but the result is hopefully close enough. It’s silly but a sense of accomplishment washes over you.

The man smiles back (his is warm and honest, painted with a touch of surprise). “Oh, well, thank you I suppose.”

A beat of silence. You wouldn’t be able to respond with anything other than more primal calls.

“And you do a good job of taking care of Senjuro. I’m glad someone is here for him when I’m gone.”

Ignoring the underlying bitterness (jealousy? blame?) you nod once more. As your head bows a sneaky hand rises to pet it. Kyojuro only taps your hair once or twice beneath turning and returning to his work.

Pleased you make sure there’s nothing remaining before running back to your room.

#kny #demon slayer #rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #senjuro #rengoku senjuro #demon!reader #demon pet au #pet au #pet demon au #Shinjiro rengoku

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sodamors · 8 months

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hantengu clones pet au headcanons

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. read at your own risk. this is bad.

background

> in the present, humans are no longer the prey of demons. the further development of high-concentration of wisteria poisons, as well as the integration of tranquilliser bullets, has gained humans the upper hand.

> wisteria weakens the demons, disallowing their use of their blood demon art, if the poison is concentrated enough.

> muzan has gone dormant, and the demons he’s made are left to their own devices.

> most demons often surrender themselves to be captured, and sometimes domesticated.

clones

> the main body was hunted down, and then cut, so the clones formed. However, they were overwhelmed before they could form Zohakuten.

> they no longer look *exactly* the same, since they’ve been treated differently.

> They had been separated upon capture, then shipped to all sorts of places. Here’s what happened to them.

tw.

once again, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. read at your own risk. this is real bad.

graphic depictions of violence, torture, starvation, nsfw, mental and physical abuse, experimentation, absolutely inhumane acts, no comfort whatsoever

sekido • graphic depictions of violence.

> for his aggressiveness, Sekido was brought to an underground fighting ring, where rich people place bets on their favourite demons.

> he’s lost many rounds, resulting in beatings and whips, from angered betters who lost money from trusting his agression. They would pay the guards to starve him as punishment, and he would hunger for weeks on end.

> sometimes, before a fight, the betters will starve him again, but not for too long. This is so that he would become more aggressive for food, and that he’ll try to eat his opponent.

> Sekido’s body still has muscle, albeit little fat. his skin is covered in countless scars; bite marks, burns, whipping, stabs, etc. All of them are half-healed, his malnutrition disallowing his recovery.

> he no longer has his kimono, since all “clothing” are taken away from the demons. It is imposed that they deserve no covering, since their only purpose is to fight.

> because of his aggression, he is forced to wear a muzzle off-arena. It’s tight and bites into his skin, causing a terrible rash around his cheeks and neck.

> Sekido’s left leg is broken, the knee shattered and the ankle twisted at an grotesque angle. Since he’s not one of the top fighters, he is given no medical attention, and is left to feel a constant ache.

> he rarely fights anymore, and is left in his cell to remain in agony.

> but he’s more of a ‘safety net’ for betters, since he cannot die. The main body remains unharmed, so Sekido has no choice but to endure and live through all that happens to him.

~ Sekido greatly regrets speaking harshly to his counterparts, because in the end, he cared about them. He missed them all; Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi. he just wants to see them again.

~ he hates himself for being so weak, wishing he found a way to heal faster. But it is never possible with an empty stomach.

~ Sekido hates sleeping, since it’s a form of weakness and vulnerability. But he’s become so weak and starved that he has no choice, and when he does sleep, all he sees are his brothers.

~ He often sleep talks their names, and is prodded and sometimes beaten by guards to make him stay silent.

karaku • nsfw.

> Karaku was originally brought to another underground fighting ring, but one of the betters found him cute, and bought him.

> but since then, he’s been majorly neglected by that better, who was an impulsive buyer and only played with him for a day.

> he was resold to one of the buyer’s friends, who placed him in an exotic sex house. People go there to fuck with animals and stuff. demons were of the same level of animals, so Karaku was a ‘perfect fit’.

> he’s often tied down in compromising positions, allowing for patrons to use him however they want. Sometimes they inject him with aphrodisiacs, so his body would react better to their actions.

> they feed him considerably well, making sure that he stays good-looking. The food is often raw pork mixed with blood. Karaku eats it all up because he’a often tired after long, excruciating hours of twisted people using his body for fun.

> he often has a muzzle, since his sharp teeth are a hazard to patrons. The muzzle can be swapped out for all sorts of gags and whatnot. His nails are clipped and often he wears gloves to prevent patrons from getting scratched by him. He has a shock collar that activates either when he disobeys an order, or when a patron uses it to fulfil their twisted desires.

> he feels a constant, dull pain in his abdomen, because unbeknownst to the house owners, his insides had gotten ruptured by one overly-excited patron. Karaku needs human flesh to heal better, but since he’s just given pork, the healing process isn’t going well.

> whenever he’s used, he would whimper and hiss because of the pain, but patrons just assume it’s because of the stimulation, and continue ramming directly into the spot that hurts him so much.

~ he constantly wishes for everything to end, for someone to find the main body and just kill it.

~ he hates that he feels this way, since he knows he’s supposed to be the manifestation of pleasure, and that he should be feeling good, right?

~ Karaku has given up almost completely, often laying motionless when left alone, showing no signs of trying to escape.

~ his body is maintained by the owners and not him, and they punish him (shock collar) whenever he doesn’t eat.

~ Karaku often thinks about how life was before all of this agony, and wonders where his counterparts are now. He wants so badly to get back to them, and for all of this to end.

~ at night, he would sometimes cry because he misses them so much. But he keeps his cries quiet because he doesn’t want to be punished for making noise.

aizetsu • experimentation.

> unlike the rest, Aizetsu wasn’t sold anywhere (underground fighting, sex shop, etc). the original captors kept him, but sold the rest to fund their activities.

> his captors are in a scientific organisation, and he is one of their test subjects. His register number is 412G and he is kept in their more reinforced rooms.

> they have the main hantengu body, and understand that as long as it is unharmed, Aizetsu should regenerate.

> they experiment on him often, since his special case allows him not to die.

> they develop concentrated wisteria poison and inject it into him to witness the effects, and how long it takes in theory for a demon to fight it.

> whenever this happens, aizetsu cries and tries to huddle in the corner of the lab, because all the wisteria does is burn.

> his insides light on fire and his intestines feel as if they’re rupturing all at once. He screams, twisting and contorting himself, trying to find salvation from the pain but to no avail.

> the burning can last for days on end, as they inject higher and higher concentrations of wisteria. Aizetsu wails and shivers as the scientists show no mercy when handling him, using machinery to hold him in place when necessary.

> they don’t use anaesthesia because they ‘need to see the true effects’.

> Aizetsu is only fed water, and other nutrients are injected into him every morning, afternoon and evening. He also has a exercise routine, but he barely follows instructions, and remains shivering in the corner.

> aizetsu is extremely shifty, sobbing whenever someone tries to get close.

> sometimes, they use Aizetsu for psychological experimentation-

> leaving him starved for days on end, then seeing if he would eat, even if it means getting electrocuted when approaching the food.

> depriving him of breathing for several minutes, until he was barely conscious, and then ringing a bell. They will then see if ringing the bell independently will cause him to go dizzy.

> etc.

> Aizetsu often bites his nails from anxiety, so much that his fingers sometimes bleed.

> scientists ensure there are no sharp objects nearby, otherwise Aizetsu would try to cut himself.

~ Aizetsu never stops crying.

~ he horribly misses his counterparts, no matter ‘how annoying’ they were in the past. Day by day, he wishes he never scrutinised them when they were around. They were the only family he knew, and now they’re gone.

~ he has a horrible feeling that they’re experiencing things like he is, and maybe even worse. He often throws up at the thought, and is reprimanded by the scientists.

urogi • broken.

> urogi had been sold to a collector of sorts.

> the collector in question actually only wanted his wings and talons, so after purchase, requested for Urogi to be declawed and his wings amputated.

> in the waiting for the declawing/dewinging appointment, urogi thought that his owner cared about him, and was content with the care he didn’t know was only temporary.

> Urogi would fluff up in excitement whenever he saw food or the owner themselves.

> when the day came, urogi was obedient and friendly, thinking that he would be fine.

> but terror hit him when they strapped him down to the operating table, and took out the knives and tools they were going to use on him.

> it was an excruciating five hours-

> his wings were slowly removed, and he screamed and cried and tried to tell them to stop, but they put a shock collar on him to shut him up. The operators were unaffected since they wore rubber gloves.

> he had no choice but to silently endure the pain, soft whines of agony escaping him time to time. The blade dug into his precious, beloved wings, and soon enough, he found tears streaming down his face.

> and then his position changed. Since the owner did not care for him and only his wings and claws, the operators could do anything with the rest. They placed him on his back, sending sharp, violent pains throughout his body, the open wounds of his wing-bases pressed on the table.

> and his arms were strapped above his head, and bright lights shown on his face.

> he screamed again, causing another shock through his neck, and to follow that up, he felt a sharp piercing red feeling at his knuckles.

> his talons were pried off his fingers, from their very bases, at his knuckles. They tore of the surrounding skin bit by bit, forcing whine after whimper out of him, ignoring all forms of pleading.

> his remaining body, robbed of all of his prized features, was left in the warehouse of the collector.

> chained up to a pole, he softly squeaks at any shadow that moves, hoping and praying for rescue.

> stuck starving to death, but since the main body was unharmed, but he would never die.

~ urogi simply waits until his counterparts would come get him.

~ whenever they fought, they had his back, didn’t they? Wouldn’t they help him now?

~ why weren’t they coming? Did they forget him?

~ and the horrible realisation, that they were maybe captured too, dawned upon him, and his heart screamed in terror and denial.

#hantengu clones #hantengu #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #pet au #sekido #kny urogi #urogi #aizetsu #karaku #writeblr #headcanons #I feel so silly goofy #weeeheheheee #you can tell i love them very much

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