🖤 🐈‍⬛

But you can't, sent here to purge this Earth of the evil, of the sinful things defying Death as they linger in the shroud of night, too unholy to see the light of day.

Clouds lazily float over the full moon, momentarily blocking out what little light filters through the canopy and by the time the dense vapor eclipsing the moon dissipates there is a shadow looming in the clearing across from you.

You should startle, your ancestors must be even louder now, more worried as you think you feel a tug at your silver starlight hirori. Yet still training for endlessly, tireless years proved the steady stance you had. The blankness to your face as you relax your muscles.

Telling yourself this was just another sparring match.

Amber eyes glow in the dark, kanji in his eyes as you fight the flinch in your spine as you read the unluckiest of numbers.

Three.

Upper three.

A slow steady intake of breath through your nose. Inflating your lungs with the force of your diaphragm, held at the apex of breath.

"A woman slayer?" His voice is velvet sin.

Sucking on your tongue harshly as you feel every inch of skin that his eyes rove over. Like having the evil eye pointed directly at you. Fingers gently ghosting over your very soul and you feel nauseated from his presence.

"Shame I don't fight women. Your spirit is….interesting." In an instant that weighted gaze is gone as the broad man with harsh lined tattoos begins to give you his back. The pink haired man choosing to ignore the sweet lull of your smell that makes his cock stir. He chalks up a discrepancy encouraged from Douma speaking of fertile women non stop.

His fucking mistake to give a tiger his back.

You're pouncing him faster than he can react, first form, Swift Nightshade, severing a part of his head but his vertebrae are too thick. Your amethyst blade is lodged, struggling you place your between his shoulder blades trying to force it free to no avail.

"Oh little moon flower." He sighs, his voice soft before it turns darker, clipped, "You're gonna regret that."

He grabs onto the blade and shoves it from his throat as if he were merely dusting off his shoulders, sending you flying. Bursting through the trunks of thick trees, hundreds of years of growing just to be snapped like a twig in the matter of seconds.

Before you can take in another breath he's on top of you, smile dripping with cruelty. Reminding you all too much like a cat with a mouse in their claws.

Toying as he does, tossing you again in the opposite direction and by the grace of muscle memory you land on your feet.

If you see an Upper Kizuki. Run.

But that command falls on deaf ears. Now that fear has melted, hot as it turns into molten rage. Rage you've worked so hard to control, the flames of it licking at your insides, tongue sharp and jagged as it rips away the sinew from bone.

Turning you into something anew.

A quick change in your stance and you're launching yourself at him again. Fifth form Might of Wolf's bane.

A visage of a giant wolf forms from the swift movements of your blade, slicing his arm clean off only for his fingers to flex a moment later, a new limb grown from his body.

"Pathetic. Your fighting spirit wavers between nothing and supreme territory, you have no control at all."

"Fuck off." You hiss, jumping backward as he advances. Combining two forms, Lily of the Valley and Swaying Foxglove.

Flowers break through the soil in the ground, creating a meadow so vast and thick that there isn't a place that Akaza cannot step without crushing the head of a flower.

"Cheap parlor tricks moonflower." He takes another step and a scent washes over him. Wrapping around him like a silken blanket as his eyes flutter with a sudden exhaustion.

It's weird how the feeling is how you smell. Like the courtyard in his home and just in the distance he thinks he can hear a rhythmic thump as water is dumped into a pool meant to reflect the sky. A mirror for the moon to dance in.

Who used to say that to him again?

Suddenly there is a searing pain in his chest, he looks down and sees you, looking up at him before you slice again, crossing over your original cut.

The wound takes a moment to heal as you retreat to a safe distance, barely felt on his compass as he looks down.

"Aaahh." He grunts and the sound reverberates in your chest, "You crossed my heart."

He touches two fingers to the wound as it heals, wetting them in blood before he licks it away.

"Guess I'll fight for real now." He changes his stance and with it the air about him. The flowers wilt at his feet before it spreads like a blight. Killing everything in its path including withering some of the pre existing trees.

You have to attack now, before the sound at his heart clears all the way up, you need to send the tip of your blade back through his heart in order to paralyze him long enough to cut his handsome head clean from his shoulders.

If it was even enough time with how thick his skin and vertebrae are.

Swinging your blade down, a breath almost fully activated he reaches out with ungodly speed.

Grabbing onto your blade and he has the audacity to yawn. As if he's bored, snapping your katana in his vice grip before he shoves you into the closest tree and shoves the deep amethyst blade right through your shoulder. Pinning you like a delicate insect for display.

Your smell is even more enticing now, the heady metallic tang coating his tongue making him dizzy. His cock stirs again and he rushes for the wound. Pressing his nose just above it and inhaling deeply as you lean your head away from him. He laps at the blood, like a mistreated dog in the summer months finally finding solace in a half dried puddle. His fangs elongate and for the first time he's tasting the blood of a woman. Growling as he huffs over your throat before taking a deep bite.

"Heh." You smirk beside him, "Ya like that?"

It's a growl before you're shoving his face deeper into your wound, letting out a gasped breath as you activate your final form. Wisteria Bloom.

The poison makes quick work as you feel the grip of him failing before the bitterant of the poison coats the back of his throat. It gives him an inkling of a feeling. Of a piece so long forgotten as it burns up the nape of his neck, spreading through synapses with each pounding thought of his head.

"Poison?" He spits onto your clothes, "You did that to them?"

You aren't sure who he's talking about but you'll take credit for killing some vile demon if the taunt meant giving you the upper hand. But before you can his pupils flicker in and out as if his body were combating your deadly, delicious blood on pure rage alone. His black fingers sink into the flesh of your ribs, slowly pushing through the tender meat between the bones.

"You killed them? Poisoned the well?" He growls and your yelp is high pitched. It causes him to slow, to quickly retract his fingers from your frame and dig into his own forearm. The four fingers separated in the middle as he digs two thick and deep wounds on his forearm. The only area that isn't banded in the twilight ink.

His head pounds, louder and louder is the call of a woman's voice just at the fringes in his mind. A soft thing drifting through the veil she toed so easily in life.

Enough. ᴉɾnʞɐH

His ears ring and the pressure on his body is more than any he's felt from his master before. The very master who now slithers into his head, speaking over what can barely be comprehended in his drunken state.

Enough Akaza. There is a finality to it that makes his stomach clench, You hate the weak.

Revitalized, the poison slows but his lust for you doesn't. He claims it is the affect of your blood but he's on you again without so much as a second thought. Running his tongue over your wounds, gently pressing his fingers on the weeping wounds he made in your ribs.

"Are you alright, Moon flower?" His voice is soft and you swallow thickly, it makes your stomach flutter. A gentle press of his lips to each wound on your left side awakens something in you that you wish not to speak aloud. It causes heat to collect and pool between your thighs, as it does his senses heighten.

Repeating the action on the other side. Dark fingers ripping away the buttons at your front, tearing away and yet keeping your haroi intact aside from your own sword holding you in place.

"D-dont." You try to squirm out of his touch, the cool night air causing your nipples to peak.

"Oh shy now are we?" He smiles up at you, mouth smeared with your blood, the moonlight plays tricks on your eyes and it almost looks as if he were flushed.

As if his eyes were flickering between blue and amber. Dark twilight making room for the stars and moon before they return to a golden shine of the rising sun.

You feel dizzy yourself, mostly from the blood loss of so you say as he brings his mouth to your breast. Pulling your pebbled nipple with his teeth gently before giving a harsh suck. A breathy shine escapes you and when he looks up you freeze. Like a bunny seen on the forest floor by the grinning fox in the brush.

It's well known how that will end.

Just like this as he rises back to his full height, looming over you with that look. His hands finding your sides, gently squeezing your ribs in his massive grip making you feel so small.

"Do it moonflower, use a breath to heal these." As if under a spell you speak so softly.

"Y-yarrow's touch." White lace flowers blossom over your ribs and throat, slowly healing wounds not being kept open. The demon slaps his hand onto your throat over his bite wound.

"Not this one, Princess." Sinful velvet again and you concentrate elsewhere. Soon they are healed, skin barely discolored and the only sign you were ever wounded at all is the lingering lines of blood that the demon leans over to lick. Thick tongue pressed flat against your smooth skin to take in your sweet nectar.

A shiver runs down your spine, cunt clenching embarrassingly and again he looks up. That predatorial look shining in his eyes. He wipes away the blood, your blood and comes closer to you. Pressing his lips to yours with such a softness, such a need it makes you whimper.

He groans, licking your lips that you part for him. Tongue swiping, swirling over yours and when he pulls away for just a moment the two of you share a silvery string of spit. He groans, coming back for more when he smells that insanely sweet smell again that clouds his mind before he finally realizes what it is. Hand sinking down your front, paste the dark fabric of your pants and panties cupping your heat for just a moment. Feeling the weight of you here and his harder than he's ever been before. Slowly his middle finger parts your folds and when he feels a wetness to you he shudders.

"So wet." He presses himself into you further, nose over your bloody throat, "I've hardly done anything to you Princess."

"Or maybe…maybe you like fighting as foreplay huh?" He bites you again and the moan you let out is loud, long. Makes your face and throat heat as he sucks. Letting your blood flood his mouth and he groans with each swallow. Pressing harsh sloppy circles to your clit, mouth at your ear.

"'S that why you're a demon slayer moonflower?" He teases, gently nipping at your ear, "Wanna be corrupted and fucked by a big bad demon?"

You can't speak, can hardly breathe as he hovers in your personal space. Drowns you out with his scent. Smelling faintly of salt. He grabs onto your throat, squeezing so tightly your eyes flutter.

"Answer me. Tell me how you want to beg for my fat cock." He palms himself before he lets you go, fingers still pressing on your clit as you quake beneath him. Your vision blacks out and you let out the most beautiful, constricted moan he's ever heard.

"Is that a yes, pretty flower?" He pulls it from you again and again and again until his fingers are so soaked in your juices it drips from his wrist.

"Pl-please." You're so dizzy. So overstimulated as he has you reeling again. He leans close, pulling away his fingers from your clit and shoving them roughly into your spasming pussy. Angling them back towards him, lucky he found your sponge spot right away.

"Akaza." He breathes into your ear, "Now moan my name and I'll fill this angel cunt."

"Akah...I- can't." You pant, trying to desperately grind against him but his free hand slams your hips into the tree, cracking it even.

"You can and you will." He bites your throat again, worsening the wound and lapping at the blood, he feels dizzy. So drunk off of the smell of you, "Say it."

It's obvious in his tone that he wants to fuck you as badly as you want him. Lust and nothing short of delirium riddle your mind and swell your tongue.

"Akazaaahhh." You pant, your head resting on his heavily, "Please fuck me."

Without thought his voice changes, soft, endearing, protecting and filled to the brim with want.

Need.

As if it were you who were denying him.

"As you wish, princess." He slides himself into you with ease. Right to the hilt and he stays still. Savoring the feeling of you fluttering around him as you adjust to his size.

"M-move, p-please." Your head is spinning and the wound in your shoulder and bite marks pound in time with your cunt. Sick with want and need, for this demon to fill you up with sticky white, "Akaza."

"Anything for you." He moves slowly, setting a deep rut that has your head hitting the trunk of the tree. The pleasure is unimaginable, cresting in you with each steady roll of his hips. You've been fucked before but no where near like this, it felt different.

Like devotion.

Like he needed you to know what you did to him, how you make his heart pound and the way he's moving you, the way his hands touch at your body as if you were something to be marveled had your brain twisted.

Love sits on your tongue when it shouldn't, especially as he gently grabs onto your chin with on big palm. Fingers and thumb causing divots in your cheeks with no real malice as he forces you to hold his gaze.

"So pretty. So fucking pretty." He rasps, eyes deepening into twilight blue, hair turning jet black and where his self inflicted wounds were now twin bands of black ink on both forearms.

"Akaza?" Your voice is soft and suddenly the image is gone and he's back to how he looked before. Tattoos elsewhere on his skin, on his throat and face. Eyes a golden color as upper three stare back at you. He comes closer, swallows your moans with a kiss. Its hungry, deep, as if he's finally come home.

"What is it, Princess?" He asks after he breaks the kiss, "What do you need, let ᴉɾnʞɐH, take care of you."

But whatever name he uses doesn't come out right, it sounds blurred and fuzzy and it makes his free hand grip at the back of his neck so hard he draws blood. Pushing his fingers in knuckle deep as if trying to rip a parasite from his spinal cord.

"N-need you." You pant, hands coming up to class at this back, "Need you to fill me."

His cock twitches at that and whatever was bothering him fizzles out at the back of his head. He chases his own high as you continue to squeeze him so tightly he sees stars. His pace lacks structure as he sloppily thrusts into you. Painting your walls with white hot ropes. He says something so low. Three words but you can only make out.

"Princess." Like it's a sacred word, a song to be sung to the gods in worship, a sound that he makes seem as if it's only for you.

Slowly he pulls out and when he is without you he suddenly feels enraged. Anguish, head throbbing with such an intensity he falls to his knees.

"Where are you? Moon flower?" He begins to claw at his face, lost in some sunbleached illusion, "Princess? Where the fuck are you?"

You think you see fat tears fall down his cheeks before they are followed by thick ribbons of crimson.

Panic devours you whole and in your own hazed mind you pull the sword from your shoulder, feeling his pain well in your stomach as you rush to him.

"I'm here. I'm right here." You coo, wrapping your arms around him as you bend over to cradle his head. Quickly he wraps his arms around your waist while he stays on his knees burying his head into your legs. He gasps, fangs elongated but like a spell the smell of you placates him before globs of blood land on his shoulder.

He looks up at you shocked, your knees turning to jelly causing you to fall but he rises to catch you before you hit the ground holding you tightly to him that your bones groan from the force. Passing out with a final breath.

"Akaza."

You were a liability, a fucking problem as he slowly comes back to his senses. Unsure how this scene unfurled before him. How he ended up whispering so softly that he loved you as he fell into his own sweet abyss as you encouraged him with the sweet sounds of your mewls.

He should let you die.

He should kill you.

He knows he should.

It would be easy to just crush you together in his grip as you lie limp in his strong arms.

But instead he grabs the blade of your sword and the hilt, pushing you closer to him as he jumps from the clearing in the forest.

Bringing you back to God knows where.