🍁

Kokushibo stroked his temples to ease the mounting headache forming. He may be a demon, but even demons weren’t immune to such pains. Muzan-sama should quite frankly figure out a way to deal with that in all honesty. That was an issue for another time though, the source of this migraine? The general search he’s been undertaking for Aoi.  There was nothing so far and that was rather infuriating. Kokushibo needed a break… How exactly he does that, Kokushibo didn’t know.

It was also the fact that the corps hadnt been ‘dragged to hell’ as Muzan-sama put it, didn’t happen made things worse. Muzan-sama was preoccupied with his child. It has been two weeks since his son was born. That was good for him, there was slight jealousy. Not because Kokushibo was envious of Nezuko. No, it was that Kokushibo wanted his own with Aoi. That would be for the future though. Kokushibo huffed and opened the door so that he could get to his section. Kokushibo would have had Nakime teleport him, but a walk was better for his head.

Or it should have been.

Instead, Kokushibo was met by a violent force striking his face and chest. The lanky man wheezed as he was shoved to the floor with a hefty weight on top of him. Six eyes blinked in shock looking up at what had happened. The demon’s lower eyes were closed as plush, slightly crusty flesh pressed against it. There was something think, warm dripping onto his lips. The other four eyes stared up at a well toned back adorned by silver hair.

Wait, Douma!?

Douma looked back and down at his superior. There wasn’t a look of fear or anything like that, rather there was surprise. Douma gasped and got off swiftly. It was in that process in which Kokushibo realized what has been dripping on his lips. Douma had been being fucked by someone. Which demon, Kokushibo supposed that he’ll find out soon. Kokushibo felt ill realizing semen was on his lower face. A hand raced up and wiped off the fluid in disgust. Kokushibo shot up to his feet to access the situation in anger.

In the room were Akaza, Daki, Karaku, Gyutaro, and Zohakuten. Judging from the state of dress, Akaza, Gyutaro, and Zohakuten were passing through and saw an illicit affair with the remaining three. Seeing how Akaza was standing, he was the one to throw Douma towards the door. All the other demons were staring with their eyes filled with unease. Deep down Kokushibo could see amusement, they found humor in this situation. How despicable…

Douma chuckled playfully and stepped closer. His tone was grating to Upper One. “Oh! That is my bad! Akaza had gotten all offended at me asking if him and his group wanted to join us! I should have stood in a different place that’s on me! Are you alri-?”

Kokushibo drew his sword and pointed it at Douma. Upper Two didn’t look all that concerned, he didn’t care that his life was in danger. Kokushibo’s eyes were filled with disdain as he gazed at Douma. “I am going to fucking kill-“

Kokushibo fell through a door created by Nakime before he could finish that statement. Is she serious?! Kokushibo’s irritation was at an all time high. He needed to kill someone, anyone right now. Perhaps even the next person he sees. Kokushibo put his blade away as he raced downward. Upper One landed on the floor at once. Eyes snapped to see where he was and who he was ripping apart.

Muzan-sama was the one Kokushibo was facing.

Never mind then…

Kokushibo straightened his posture and attempted to calm his mind. A polite tone breached the demon’s lips. “Muzan-sama… What have you summoned me here for?”

Muzan-sama looked to the side for a second, he appeared nervous. Kokushibo was rather perplexed initially. Then it hit him. Muzan-sama confirmed that thought. “I need you to… well you know…”

Kokushibo’s center left eye twitched in frustration. Sure, Kokushibo was fine with this sordid affair they were engaged in. Still it was an incredibly one sided relationship. Upper One was not quite attracted to his master in the same way that his master was towards him. This whole ‘act as if you are raping me’ dynamic began after Nezuko escaped. It still continued to even now. To an extent, it was a means to vent for Kokushibo. For Muzan-sama… that was harder to figure out… If Kokushibo could assume, it was something to do with his master’s past…

No matter…

I must be sick.....

For @echantedtoon

Poor Sekido has some brief empathy for Angel trying to slice fruit while a bunch of kids whine....

Follow up for the Sekido scores post

Muzan glared as Karaku dragged a chair over and sat beside him as if they were equals.

Across the room, Douma and the other Hantengu clones were efficiently using the Demon Slayers who had made the fatal mistake of insulting his wife. The carnage and gang rape orgy was impressive, if not a little theatrical, but effective.

Karaku jerked his chin toward the last surviving Slayer, tied up and shaking as he watched the depraved gang bang in real time.

“Can’t I have that one?” Karaku asked brightly, like a child begging for a festival toy.

Muzan sighed, fingers twitching toward the bridge of his nose.

“Karaku. I already told you. He is off-limits. He has been shown mercy. He leaves here alive to tell the Corps what becomes of those who insult Nezuko.”

Karaku blinked slowly, unconvinced.

Muzan gestured lazily toward the pile of mangled bodies.

“The one on the left is still twitching. You may take that one.”

Karaku inched his chair closer, grin widening. Unpeturbed.

“C’mon. Just a little bit.”

Muzan’s eye twitched.

Karaku’s hand hovered in the air,

“Absolutely not.” Muzan snapped.

Karaku only leaned in further cranking his index and thumb

“…Just the tip?”

Muzan stared at him, unblinking, reconsidering centuries of leadership choices.