The moment everything changed was the moment Doma felt something within him. His chest was not hollow - his heart was not still... not anymore. Something in him stirred and he felt a small twinge of his lungs, filling him with foreign warmth. Suddenly, the world was vibrant, and at the center of it was her. She was called Kotoha, a young woman with dark hair, deep beautiful eyes, and a truly lilting voice that seemed to soothe the heavens in its softness.
Doma was transfixed. The baby in her arms suddenly didn't seem so annoying in its cooing and her smile didn't seem fake as he assumed most were.
The day everything changed was the day Doma smiled for the first time.
WARNING: Contains death, gore, reference to SA, trauma, blood, foul language, and angst. There will be more specific TW on chapters that handle heavier topics but these are the main ones.
WARNING: Also contains a reformed Doma, a redemption for Akaza (with some romance included), Inosuke gets a family, Kotoha gets to be happy, Daki and Gyutaro get to heal, Genya and Sanemi WILL communicate eventually, Uzui is vibin', Kanae gets to L I V E, Tamayo gets some motherly recovery, Kokushibo has an existential crisis, Nezuko will eventually get some character development, Muzan is TICKED, and life is good... mostly.
Also, Kotoha adopts... everyone. Just... everyone.
I don't own Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba) or any of the art!
Yes, I am aware most spellings spell Doma's name as Douma; no I'm not changing it no we're too far gone. If you have any comments or questions you can head over to my Tumblr: https://the-dragon-hearted.tumblr.com/
The bandages that covered his face in life have fallen away, all incinerated and hanging loosely around his neck. His face is completely destroyed. Unrecognizable. The skin covering his face is no longer there, all having melted away. His blood vessels have all burst, his nerves have fried along with the majority of his muscles. His jaw opens and closes a little bit. His eyes bore into me. They're large and round and completely accusing. His teeth are covered in bits of burnt muscle. I feel my heart thudding in my chest. He steps closer, closer. His bone gleams in the dim light. As he closes in on me, a pounding noise begins ringing through my ears. My heart beat- ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. It looked like he had been tossed into a fryer, fried alive, and he had been. By me. I did this to someone. I killed someone's team mate, someone's son. I killed someone's important person.
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Kimiko Kioku, a memory keeper. Never forgets anything, always notices, from the exact way the wind blew her hair against her face to coloring with her brother at five to the lullaby her mother would sing to her as she rocked her when she was not even a year old. She remembers. She remembers the blood, the glassy, clouded over eyes her brother had as he said his last words. She remembers the very first person she killed. She remembers how abandoned she feels, and how everything always feels like it's falling apart at the seams.
(Can you say 'worst summary ever to exist'? Okay, maybe not that bad. But still pretty bad.)