Requested by: Brooke216159
Summary: you were a demon, who had the misfortune of running into the Wind Hashira. Your Blood Demon Art wasn't suited for fighting, but rather avoiding it: it made whoever you were fighting feel whatever you wanted them to feel so they would let you live. Originally, you wanted him to want a platonic relationship with you. However, you lost your grip on your BDA, and accidentally made him feel intense romantic love and lust. He couldn't let you leave after that.
Tws: r@pe
Cautiously making your way down the street, you held your breath as you waited for the Hashira stalking you to emerge from his hiding place.
The only warning you got as he attempted to behead you from behind was the metallic whine of his katana slicing through the air.
You threw yourself to the side, spinning around to find the white-haired male who'd been hunting you for hours.
He growled when he noticed he'd missed, and muscles tensed as he prepared to spring forward.
But you had a trick up your sleeve.
Just as he went in for the kill, you activated your Blood Demon Art:
"Blood Demon Art: Intense Feelings."
There were two options with this particular BDA: platonic or romantic feelings. Platonic made the victim feel an urge to protect you, allowing you to kill them instead.
Romantic made the target feel crazy amounts of love and lust for you. Made them downright obsessed with you.
The effects were permanent too. You'd found that out when you'd turned two Slayers into your 'willing' slaves. They killed humans for you, and kept you safe.
Unfortunately, you couldn't communicate with them if they were away from you, so you were unable to call upon them when the Hashira had attacked.
Now though, you didn't need to worry. He would keep you safe.
Even as he tried to fight it, the BDA was clearly doing its job. His posture was slumped, relaxed, and perfectly content to not attack.
You made your way to the Hashira, savoring your victory. He was practically clay, to be molded as you saw fit. You couldn't help the grin that split your face.
"Come, little Hashira," you said, fingers tilting his eyes to meet yours, "we need to kill your friends."
You made to turn away, sensing the man's eagerness to help you out and grinning again.
"SHINAZAGAWA!" a voice screamed, and you flinched at the unnecessarily loud voice, losing your grip on your BDA simultaneously.
"Wind Breathing: First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter."
You watched in awe as the Hashira in question sliced and diced his comrade like raw meat. The blood splattered over his white uniform, making for a terrifying sight as he turned to face you.
Your horror deepened when you saw the look on his face: lust.
The problem with your BDA is that the primary defense was the romantic aspect of it. Only by concentrating can you make them love you platonically. If you lose your grip, it reverts back into romantic, and stays there.
That normally wasn't too big of a problem. Most of the Demon Slayers you came across were pretty submissive, and wanted to do as you asked to win your affections.
But you couldn't force them to act that way. You could make them feel love, but couldn't pick which way they expressed it in. Most were easy to manipulate, to control.
One look at Shinazagawa's eyes showed he wasn't like that.
He was the kind who, when they found someone to obsess over, would force that person to accept their love.
And you had just bought a front row seat to how unhinged he would be.
He moved, a white blur you couldn't follow with your eyes, and something slammed into your head.
You slumped into the waiting arms of your captor.
Time Skip
When you awoke, you knew two things.
One: there were chains smelling of wisteria restraining you against the wall.
And two: there was a man in the futon with you, arms holding you tight against him.
You struggled, unfortunately alerting him to your consciousness, and soon enough he too, was awake.
After purple met E/C, hell followed.
The white-haired male yanked your face to his, and kissed you.
You attempted to pull back, finding hands of steel preventing you from doing so. You continued to try, and Shinazagawa pulled away from you to glare.
You returned it in full, and watched as anger shifted into a smirk as he surveyed your body.
It was then you realized you were wearing nothing but a thin robe. One that he would have no trouble taking off.
You thrashed, trying to force yourself away from the man, but his grip never lessened.
He let you move about until the perfect opportunity arose.
When you had tired yourself out, he pushed himself on top of you, making it so you could no longer move.
Filled with a new burst of energy at knowing what came next, you tried. And failed again. Your meager strength was no match for the Hashira's.
It was no surprise what came next. The tearing of the robe, the forcefullness of his entry, and the sobs that emerged from you as you begged him to stop.
When he'd relieved himself, had his pleasure, and slept soundly beside you... you wished for death.
And you regretted ever using your BDA on this man.
910 words
