artificial nocturne

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/20684996.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Category: F/M
Fandom: 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime)
Relationship: Kamado Nezuko/Kamado Tanjirou
Character: Kochou Shinobu, Kamado Nezuko, Kamado Tanjirou
Additional Tags: Incest, Blood Incest, Rape, non-con, Futanari, Futa, girl cock, Bottom
Tanjirou, Top Nezuko
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of everybody loves tanjirou
Stats: Published: 2019-09-18 Words: 2909

artificial nocturne
by orphan_account

Summary

She wakes him up with her touch.

Notes

promiscuous makes an entrance, her mouth is full of questions

are we all brides to be, are we all designed to be confined
buy ourselves chastity belts and lock them
organize our lives and lose the key

...

contains manga spoilers (ch100+) regarding nezuko

i spelled tanjirou as tanjiro and i'm too lazy to fix it, sorry
got the idea from "thinking of you" by slippingdown

See the end of the work for more notes

There’s something about Nezuko as a demon that is different than Nezuko as a human; something
beyond bloodlust, merciless disregard for her enemies, something twisted that Tanjiro can’t place.
She’s still his sister, still sounds like her when she speaks—even in broken, childish Japanese. And
he still loves her, no matter how many parts of her have changed. He’ll always believe in being
able to change her back, even if he knows she’ll never be the same as she would be if she had
grown up as a normal human girl.

It’s the best he can do, and he would do anything for Nezuko.

Whenever they’ve been apart for long, he spends that first night back with her in her room in the
butterfly estate, regardless of his own injuries. There’s just a single bed with wispy, dusty sheets
and her box—even though she doesn’t need it anymore, he still finds comfort in the sight of it.
Deep down, he’s a little sad he doesn’t have to carry her around anymore. It was as much of a
comfort as it was a burden.

Before he calls Nezuko inside, Tanjiro changes the sheets, fluffs the pillows, all while hobbling
along on a broken foot, still healing. He makes it as nice as he can for his little sister, and then
heads outside to call her inside for the night.

There’s one reprieve with Nezuko staying here—she’s long since grown used to being cleaned and
changed by the other girls. When Tanjiro arrived earlier, the girls had been excited to tell him that
she was able to do most of it herself now. For the first few years of their travels, Tanjiro had done
the duties of taking care of her. Standing in icy cold river water with only the light of the moon to
guide him isn’t something he particularly misses.

But he’s always happy to say goodnight to her. She lets him tuck her into bed, pressing a soft kiss
to the top of her head. He crouches by the bed, says “Goodnight, Nezuko” and holds her hand until
she falls asleep, murmuring “good night, good night,” to herself, in mimicry of Tanjiro’s whisper.

After she falls asleep he settles beside her, sitting in front of the low table he’d borrowed from
another room, writing in his journal. It’s a pastime he tries to continue whenever he can—he’s
chronicled much of their journey together.

Eventually, though, his head begins to nod, exhaustion winning him over. Although he had planned
to head to the shared ward to sleep in his usual bed, he finds himself unwilling to travel across the
estate. He glances over at Nezuko’s sleeping form and tries to judge whether the bed is big enough
for them both—after a moment, he realizes she’d shrunk at some point.

Tired, he crawls into bed beside her, careful not to disturb her. Once comfortable, he takes a
moment to survey her face—she’s as gorgeous as ever, pale skin still completely unmarred. He
can’t help but hope that when she returns to being human, her skin will still be clear of scars. He
brushes his fingers over her brow, pushing away a stray lock of her hair, heart bursting with
adoration. His only baby sister. Safe, at least for tonight.

Happy, Tanjiro rolls over, back facing her. Sleep whispers over his senses, and he curls up with a
smile on his face.

When he wakes up, he’s not sure why. For some reason, he feels a little cold—with a start, he
realizes that he’s been stripped of his blankets, stolen by Nezuko. He rolls over and tries to
disentangle her, but she’d grown bigger again at some point during the night, dwarfing him.
Realizing he won’t be able to get the blankets out of her iron grip, he coincides with a sigh, rolling
back over.

“I’m cold,” he grumbles sleepily, even though he knows she won’t answer him.

But to his surprise, two strong arms wrap around him from behind, drawing him into a backward
hug. Tanjiro smiles, patting her arm, curled protectively around his middle. Her skin is cold to the
touch, but not unpleasantly so. “Sorry, Nezuko. Did I wake you up?”
“Mm,” she makes a noise in affirmation, and then cuddles close, nose against the sensitive skin of
his neck. He squirms instinctively, ticklish. “Tan.”

“Tanjiro,” he corrects, trying to pull her arms away from him. In response, she simply holds him
tighter against herself. “N-Nezuko, could you let me go? Your robe…”

At some point, she’d not only grown double his size, she’d outgrown her clothes. Embarrassed by
the feeling of her soft breasts pressing against his back with only thin sleep clothes as a buffer, he
tries to create some distance between them, cautiously tugging at the arms around his middle.

Nezuko only buries her face further into the junction between his neck and shoulder, causing
Tanjiro to squeak in surprise. Her cold lips hovering over his sensitive skin makes gooseflesh
prickle up and down his arms, a shiver tracing his spine.

Tanjiro feels his face flame, embarrassment boiling up his blood. “Nezuko,” he tries, desperate.
“Please.”

“Mm,” she murmurs, pressing her cool lips to his warm skin. He jolts, the contact startling him.
“Jiro.”

“Nezuko,” he pleads, squirming against her strong hold, fighting the arousal coming from such
close, intimate contact. This must be some kind of twisted nightmare—worse is the thought that
they might be found in such a comprising position in the morning. Nezuko won’t retreat because of
the sun rising anymore, after all.

If he hears about this, Zenitsu might kill him. Tanjiro almost wants to laugh at the thought.

“Let me go,” he tries to turn to face her, but she continues to pepper soft kisses against his nape,
eliciting a startled moan from him. “Ah, Nezuko… you have to stop…”

A pause—what was that smell? Something acrid hit his nostrils, a strong, powerful scent—

Tanjiro turns around in her arms, only to find her wide awake and smiling, tongue swiping over her
upper lip, eyes half lidded.

Ah. The smell of desire.

“It’s—it’s me, Tanjiro,” he stammers, face flushing. “You can’t kiss me—like, like that,” he
chokes, flustered.

She blinks, some semblance of understanding in her eyes. She can tell he’s saying no. “Why?” The
rapid beat of his heart threatens to drown out her quiet response, and he struggles to answer her for
a moment.

“Siblings… well… um, they don’t kiss like that,” he manages, even as she rocks her thigh between
his legs. He can’t waste the opportunity—he has to explain and get it through to her. “So—you
—ah! You can’t. Stop…!”

“But…” she abruptly stops moving against him, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “But…!” she
raises her voice, pitching in upset.

“Shh!” he blurts, pressing a finger against her lips. “We can’t.”

“Tan…jiro,” she whines, a hand sneaking between the folds of his robe, groping any of the skin she
can reach. “Please.”
Tanjiro closes his eyes, heart shattering. Nezuko wants to play with him, but she doesn’t
understand it—she can’t, she won’t—not ever could he commit such a taboo, not even under her
yearning gaze. He bites his lower lip, suppressing a shudder as she grazes a nipple with her nails,
exploring his flesh thoroughly.

He gasps as she shoves a leg between his, flipping him onto his back as she hovers above him.
Pinned down against the bed, he’s helpless to stop her from taking what she wants—not when he
can’t even look at her, head turned away from her bare breasts, stubborn.

Nezuko doesn’t seem to mind one bit, returning to bury her nose against his neck, licking the salt
off his skin with a hungry enthusiasm. He squeezes his eyes shut, pressing a palm against his
mouth to stifle any noise; but he doesn’t expect her to suck at the pulse point on his neck, tongue
working in tandem with her lips. Tanjiro throbs between his legs and lets out a choked gasp, giving
an indignant shove at her shoulder.

“Nezuko!” he breathes, astonished at the lack of her restraint and the enormity of her confidence.
No matter how much he refuses her, his body still reacts to her sloppy assault—cock stiff between
his legs, spine tingling at the amount of skin-on-skin contact, the hot wetness of her tongue on his
neck, the thought of what more she could do making his stomach lurch with excitement.

“Tanjiro,” she breathes, voice raspy with want. It’s too much and yet it’s too little; it’s nothing he
wants but it’s something he’s needed for a long time, some sort of release, pleasure more
overwhelming than anything he’s ever felt before.

Nezuko is drooling over him, literal strings of it curling down from her bared lips, landing in wet
pools around his collar bone. She reeks of desire—powerful, pungent—not so different from
bloodlust, hanging heavy in the air like a cloud of smoke, threatening to choke him.

He can’t give in.

“We can’t,” he starts, but she lunges at him again, not wasting her time with delicate, careful kisses
anymore; she sucks at his neck like she wants to devour him, pulling apart his robe to expose more
of his skin. The blankets have been long forgotten, kicked aside as they moved around, fumbling
with each other.

Nezuko. My little sister. I can’t let her do this…!

But even as Tanjiro struggles to get away, Nezuko continues to assault him with wet, open
mouthed kisses, trailing down to the peak of his chest, latching on. He cries out and slaps a hand
over his mouth, startled by the pleasure. If he makes too much noise, he’s certain someone will
hear them. Tanjiro can think of nothing less humiliating than this—to be stumbled upon in bed
with someone, much less his demon sister?

A part of him desperately wants to give in. Despite the fear and adrenaline pumping through his
veins he feels weak underneath her broad frame, unable to fight back. She’s his sister, and he won’t
attack her because of that—but even if he tries to strike her, she’s stronger than he is right now. If
he convinces himself he doesn’t want it then it makes it easier, somehow, to come to terms with the
situation he’s gotten himself in.

She rocks her knee between his legs and he arches his back, still muffling his mouth with his hand,
the other twisted up in the bedcover. She leans back with a grunt to survey her work, spreading her
clawed hands over his chest, examining his face.

“Tanjiro,” she rasps, smiling with teeth. “Likes.”

He stares at her, shock making his mouth fall open. He removes his palm and hisses “Nezuko,”
admonishing her as he pulls his robes back over himself, ashamed of how easily he fell to pieces
under her touch. “Enough, already. We can’t do this anymore.”

She tilts her head, still with that same smile plastered on her face. It makes him nervous, like
there’s something she knows that he doesn’t. “Can’t?”

“We can’t,” he agrees hurriedly. “So let me up, okay?”

Drool spills over her lips, even as she abruptly drops her smile. Tanjiro opens his mouth to speak
again—please, Nezuko—only for her to shove two fingers into his mouth. He chokes, closing his
mouth around the two digits as she shoves them deep into his mouth, nearly grazing the back of his
throat. Tanjiro gags and Nezuko goes stiff, quickly withdrawing her hand.

Coughing, Tanjiro hurriedly wipes the tears off his cheek. Nezuko doesn’t seem to notice or care.
She forcibly spreads his legs and reaches underneath his robes, but he doesn’t quite understand her
intention. It’s not until the pads of her fingers press against his hole that he startles, shocked by the
sensation. She pets his taint with cold, wet fingers even as he whispers a repetitive mantra of no,
no, no, beyond horrified of the implication behind her touch.

Eventually, she pushes past the first ring of muscle and begins to pump her fingers in and out of
him, spitting down at his hole when her fingers get dry. Tanjiro can barely breathe, paralyzed by
the sensation of being assaulted inside and out, too stunned to move. His heart thunders in his ears
as she stops just long enough to lift his hips onto her lap, pushing something bigger and harder
against his entrance.

No fucking way.

Tanjiro looks down at his sister’s cock in disbelief, amazed. “No—Nezuko,” he stammers, trying
to escape the vice grip on his thighs. “You can’t, you can’t—it’s impossible,” she pushes forward,
hands resting on either side of his head, slowly stretching him around her thick cockhead. Tanjiro
gasps, head lolling back as she pushes inside until her balls settle against him, sheathed completely.

She pulls back abruptly, and Tanjiro wonders if that’s all she needed until she slams home,
punching the breath out of his lungs. He seizes on her cock, body shaking with a shudder. The
violation is more painful than any battle wound, but it doesn’t seem enough for her—so she does it
again and again, until the only thing Tanjiro can hear is the sound of skin slapping against wet
skin.

“No, ah, stop,” His head feels foggy and light, like he’s bordering on the edge of passing out,
feeling breathless no matter how much he gasps for air. “My head’s—gonna melt,” he mewls,
writhing on her dick, his half-hard cock bouncing against his stomach as she fucks into him,
making wild, animalistic noises of pleasure her own.

“Stop, stop,” he cries out. Provoked by his voice, she flips them over—this time with Tanjiro sitting
in her lap as she lays back, manhandling him into riding her. She delights in the sight of him above
her, bouncing cutely on her cock, whining in a sweet pitch that makes her pulse roar. Tears splash
over his cheeks, drool covering his chin as he shudders, insides spasming around her.

“I’m gonna—” he gasps, coming in thick ropes across his stomach, cock pulsing—coming
untouched, with tears streaming down his cheeks, body littered with blossoming bruises.

With a guttural noise, Nezuko’s hips stutter, jerking violently as she orgasms inside him, filling
him up. He shudders, giving a weak sob as Nezuko lays him down, pulling out with a wet
squelch. Semen slides out of his abused hole, trickling onto the sheets.

There’s nothing more Tanjiro wants than to run away and hide. There’s nothing he can do, though
—not when Nezuko has her arms wrapped around him again, purring as she licks at the traces of
tears on his cheeks, still shaking through the aftermath.

It’s not until hours later that Tanjiro is certain Nezuko is asleep. It’s only then that he dares to
move, body still throbbing in the places she touched him. He redresses hurriedly, stumbling out of
the room to head toward the showers, mind spinning. Some part of him still wants to believe that it
was all just a nightmare, but the blood on the sheets and the drying semen on his thighs is proof of
otherwise.

On first inspection, the hallways are blessedly empty. It’s late, after all, and he can’t think of any
reason for anyone else to be awake at this hour.

The house of Kocho might have seemed quiet at first glance, but when he arrives at the showers, he
finds someone waiting there for him.

He flushes beet red at the sight of Shinobu, hands held politely at her sides, ever present smile
unwavering. Tanjiro knows that she knows exactly what happened without having to ask her—he
refuses to meet her eyes, looking at the floor in front of his feet, ashamed.

“Shinobu-san,” he tries, voice cracking. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she repeats sweetly. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Don’t be sorry.
You dealt with a bad situation in your own way. Was it hard on you? Did you have a difficult
time?”

Tanjiro doesn’t respond. He continues to stare at his feet, ice in his veins. He can’t believe this.

“I see… it’s hard to speak up after something like that. Don’t worry, Tanjiro-kun. I understand.”

He looks up at her, startled. He can’t sense any hint of deceit beyond her constant anger. “But I…”

She steps closer to him, petting his cheek. He stares on and on, face hot, beyond shame. “It’s okay.
I think you’re cute, Tanjiro-kun. And you have great willpower. I’m sorry you had to deal with it
on your own, but you can talk to me about it.”

He fidgets, hands picking at the edge of his sleeve. He desperately wants to shower, to scrub his
body clean of Nezuko’s marks, as if that would help him forget. Shinobu’s words sound kind, but
they don’t make sense to his addled mind.

“Talk…?”

“Mhm. I’d like it if I could talk to you about it… but maybe later is better?” she winks, glancing
down at the streak trickling down his leg. He winces, taking a step back from her.

“Okay,” is all he manages, feeling feverishly warm and oddly lightheaded. “Goodnight, Shinobu-
san.”

Shinobu watches as he walks away, eyes glinting.

“Goodnight, Tanjirou-kun.”
End Notes

wrote while drunk w/ no beta no morals and no sense of judgement, enjoy

like and subscribe if you want shinobu to fuck him also

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