#kibutsuji x reader

Rain feathered against the windows and the lanterns threw a soft, amber haze around the room, turning edges to shadow. You sat folded against Muzan, your head cushioned on his chest as he tilted over delicate viles of liquid, fingers moving with grace. A cup of tea warmed your palms, you watched him while drinking the tea.

“This tastes a bit off Muzan,” you said, angling the cup so the surface caught the lamplight and swirled.

“Hmm?Didn’t you brew it yourself love?” he asked, looking up from his work, eyes amused.

“No, the maids prepared it for..” you started, the sentence died on your lips. Your hands slid from the cup, your body folding inward. Suddenly everything slowed and then stopped. Your face drained of warmth, the color leaving your skin. Your muscles slacked. You were paralyzed.

Muzan’s head snapped toward you. “Love?”. He shook you hard enough that the teacup rattled on the low table, and when your breath still brushed faintly against his fingers, he slid a cushion beneath your head and draped his haori over you like a cloak. Then, with a careful technique he had learned long ago, he lifted the cup you’d been holding and brought it to his nose. The scent was wrong,  metallic, sharp and the realization slotted into place.

Poison.

He studied your closed features, eyelashes dimmed, the slow pale that crept across your skin. There was a pulse but faint. He let out a quiet breath and left the lantern-lit room. He moved through the house and he crossed into the servants’ quarters. The air there smelled of soap and disinfectant and of frayed linen.

When Muzan entered, every head bowed. The maids’ faces were a mixture of composure. He stood at the doorway and scanned them. “Who served tea today?” he asked.

A hush pressed the room. Eyes slid sideways, groups whispered together. One maid, hands knotted at her apron, kept her gaze fixed to the floor. Muzan advanced until he stood close to her.

"I-is there anything you needed my lord?" she asked, voice thin.

"You served the tea today?" he asked, brows furrowed as everyone in the room watched.

"Y-Yes My lord," she stammered.

"Then why didn’t you answer when I asked who made it?"

"I-I—"

"You what?"

"Is there something wrong My lord?"

"You tell me. The tea you served her, where did it come from?" he asked as he held up the cup infront of her face.

"From the usual jar My Lord, I brewed it like always," she said.

"You brewed it yourself, how diligent. Did you perhaps happen to add something special to it?" he asked lowering the cup from the maids face.

"N-No my Lord I swear."

Muzan’s gaze flicked and landed on the small, familiar curve of the maid uniform pocket, a pocket you had once filled with little things for him, medicinal herbs, a folded note, a sugar cube saved for later. He saw a tiny bag, its string peeking like a pale thread. With a motion, he plucked it free and held it between two long fingers.

"Well what do we have here? The same smell that was coming from her tea also seem to be coming from this little bag."

He opened the pouch. A white powder, unlabeled and lay inside. The maid’s composure cracked.

"I-I don't know wh-what that is—"

Muzan’s hand closed on her chin.“Don't insult my intelligence. I can smell the powder all over you.”

"P-please, I was told to—" she tried to explain herself.

"By whom? Speak."

"I can't tell you tha—" Muzan’s thumb pressed harder on her chin.

"You can't? Or you won't?" his eyes bored into hers.

"My Lord please—"

He threw her back into the wall the impact set a line of vases shattering with a sound that made everyone suck in a breath. Gasps went through the room like a current, some in horror, some with a sick, fascinated delight. Muzan knelt, close enough that his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Do you think her life is something you can gamble with? Every breath she takes is worth a thousand of yours," he said.

"I didn’t mean to hurt her, they promised me money," she pleaded

A smile touched his mouth as he looked down at her. "Oh so you were a rat carrying poison for a coward," he said. "Tell me..did the coins feel warm in your hands, at least? Did it feel worth making her suffer?" His whisper dug in like a dagger.

"I-I just wanted a better life," she managed, eyes darting away.

"Then allow me to improve it. You will never have to worry about hunget ever again." He said the words softly with a smile.

"W-what do you mean?" she whispered.

"Dead bodies don't eat do they?" he said so low no one else would be certain they’d heard.

She let out a choked sound and tried to back away.

"P-please spare me, I'll tell you who sent me."

"Go on," he said, smugly.

"The head maid."

"And what reason does she have to harm her?" he asked impatiently as he was done listening to her nonsense.

"She said that your affection to your lover was making her bothered and she deserved it more than her," she said, eyes lowering.

Muzan laughed then, a sound that began with disbelief. He covered his face with one hand as if to hide his amusement from the room,“So this is jealousy turned into attempted murder.” He paused.

"Tell me..where is the head maiden now?"

"The west wing of the servant quarters My Lord. She is in her personal chambers."

"Right. Follow me now."

The maid followed, knees unsteady. They moved into the garden, a place that usually held quiet.

Muzan stopped and turned to her.

"Honestly, did you really think you'd get away with this?" he asked, voice even but cold.

Her body burst into pieces before she could form any words. Muzan stood over the thousand pieces of flesh scattered around the garden, expressionless.

Pity, he thought.

“no,” you reply, surprising yourself with your boldness. “i’m not afraid. i want to understand you.” it’s a risky statement, and you can feel the weight of it in the air. his lips curl into a smirk, one that sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you.

“understanding me will come at a price,” he says, his tone dropping an octave. as he steps closer, the scent of him envelops you—a mix of cedarwood and something intoxicatingly sweet. your heart races as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, the touch both tender and electric.

“i’m willing to pay,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. the moment hangs in the air, thick with tension as he studies you, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker.

“very well,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a predatory smile. “let’s see just how far you’re willing to go.”

before you can react, he pulls you closer, his hands gripping your waist with a firm yet gentle pressure. your breath catches as his lips hover just above yours, teasingly close. “do you trust me?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

“yes,” you reply, the word tumbling out before you can second-guess yourself. his smirk widens, and in that instant, you realize just how much power he holds over you.

without warning, he captures your lips with his, the kiss fierce and demanding. you melt against him, the heat radiating between your bodies as his hands explore your waist, pulling you even closer. the kiss deepens, and you can feel the world around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intoxicating moment.

his hands slide up to cup your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. your heart races, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through you. you’ve never felt anything like this before—his kiss is both an invitation and a command, igniting a fire deep within you.

as the kiss breaks, you gasp for air, and he chuckles softly, a sound that sends a thrill through you. “you’re stronger than i expected,” he muses, his eyes gleaming with something akin to admiration. “but strength isn’t everything.”

with that, he steps back slightly, his gaze appraising you. “let’s see how well you can handle temptation.” there’s a challenge in his tone that sends a rush of adrenaline through you. you stand your ground, determination coursing through your veins.

“i can handle it,” you declare, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. his smirk returns, a mix of amusement and intrigue.

“is that so?” he questions, stepping closer once more. this time, there’s an edge to his movements, a predatory grace that leaves you breathless. “then let’s see just how strong your resolve truly is.”

he leans in again, capturing your lips with a fervor that makes your head spin. this time, it’s deeper, more urgent, as if he’s testing your limits. you respond instinctively, kissing him back with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands.

as the kiss intensifies, you can feel the heat between you growing, an undeniable chemistry that ignites every nerve ending in your body. he pulls you against him, the solid warmth of his body pressing into yours, making your heart race even faster.

“tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and intoxicating. the question hangs in the air, and for a moment, you hesitate. the power he holds is palpable, and you can feel the weight of your desires crashing down around you.

“i want you,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper but filled with longing. his eyes darken with desire, and a low growl escapes his throat.

“then you shall have me,” he declares, and in that moment, you know you’ve crossed a threshold you can’t uncross. with a swift motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the plush couch in the room.

he lays you down gently, hovering over you, his gaze burning with intensity. “are you ready for what comes next?” he asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

When the cart was out of sight, you sighed, groaning in frustration at the part you had to play. Being a slayer had its perks, but there were the more incognito missions like this one, that strained both your body and mind. This man was suspected of being one of the 12 upper moons posing as a human to get by among humans but having trained to become who you are you knew the signs of a demon.

The fact that he left during the night was a big giveaway among the other mannerisms you had picked up through the months you have been “happily wed.”

You walked inside the house. With him gone, you could practice freely with your sword without being afraid that he would sneak up on you. Wiping the wifely smile off of your face, you went to your shared room. The good thing was that this one was not interested in you fulfilling your wifely duties, and he barely got into bed with you. He spent most of his time inside his office, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Even though you were forced to marry this man, your heart has always belonged to another. Thinking of his golden and fiery hair, his boisterous and upbeat personality made your heart jump. Your heart has always belonged to him and his to you. Both of you dream of a time when the demons would be vanquished, and you could be together in peace. But in the meantime, you both worked the hardest and met in secret whenever you could.

Thinking of his bright smile made you smile. You exchanged your kimono for your slayer uniform pants, a sleeveless vest shirt, and a haori. Your “husband” said he loved seeing you in traditional kimonos with perfectly styled hair. The man had a knack for the old times and perfection. Often it became overwhelming and overbearing. You slid open the garden door and walked calmly and quietly into the forest. The coldness of the night seeped into your skin, but it felt refreshing, washing over the suffocating feeling of the kimonos and the perfection you left back at the house.

You stepped with light feet, almost inaudible as you made your way to where you hid your sword. The big tree was the only marker you had because that’s where the sword was hidden. You took the sword wrapping, pulling the katana out of the hole in the trunk of the tree.

A twig snapped from behind you, and you took a breath, turning to see your lover standing brightly a few feet away from you.

“I received your letter and could almost hear your voice through the ink.”

He smiled, arms opening wide as you ran into them, and he closed them around you in a crushing hug.

“I have missed you dearly, beloved” you felt your cheeks heat up at the name.

“I have missed you as well. This mission is dragging too long, and I can’t stand it anymore” your head leaned unto his chest, hiding your face in his warmth. His chin rested on the top of your head, looking forward somberly. His hands petted your hair in comfort.

“You must be strong, dear, this too will pass, and we’ll be together again” Rengoku’s hold on you tightened.

“I’m sometimes afraid that he will find out. That he will slay me in my sleep and eat me afterward,” you confessed in a lower tone, almost ashamed of being afraid.

“Now now, there’s nothing you should be afraid of; you’re strong, beautiful, and one of the best slayers in the corps. Cheer up, beloved, I brought bento!”

He smiled brightly at you, making you smile in return. The two of you sat down in the forest under the silver moonlight, enjoying your bentos.

Rengoku made you smile, laugh, and forget about your worries, and for a moment, everything felt right.

Of course, you weren’t mindful of the plum red eyes looking at the two of you.

Muzan had coveted you the moment he saw you. He knew you were a slayer, and he knew how much of a nuisance you would become. But he couldn’t help how much fun he would have toying with you. They do say keep your enemies closer.

He would act like the loving husband any woman would be head over heels to have. He was perfect and was certain that you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him every passing day. He could see the adoration in your eyes, how you would don the kimonos he asked you to wear and fix yourself to be perfect just for him. Muzan knew he had you eating from the palm of his hand, and it wouldn’t take much to squish you and the other pests with just a clench of his fist.

You were pathetic; he scoffed every time he left the house; how had you become a slayer with such a weak mind. Whenever he conducted his experiments, his mind would often drift to you and what new ways he could use to reel you in further and keep molding you to be perfect. He brimmed with sadism the more he thought about you. Your crimson blood would look lovely on the flower prints from his favorite kimono. The thought alone was enough to make him salivate.

Muzan started catching himself doing this more often than he would like.

The more time passed, the more he spiraled down into the different ways he could bring you further into his cage. But he started to suspect you were unfaithful.

You would sometimes smile and look into nothingness with the same look of adoration you used to look at him. You started asking him less when he left for his “meetings” and would often look like you didn’t care at all before slipping back into the mask. He started loving you more aggressively; his touches lingered longer, almost imprinting themselves on your skin. He would insist on taking you out, pinning it on the fact that he worked too hard and neglected his beautiful wife. Despite all this, your mask would often crack, and he would stare at you as you got lost in some blissful memory away from him.

He couldn’t stand that. You were his and slayer or not; you were legally married to him. He would make sure you remembered your place.

After your night picnic, you trekked back to the house with renewed patience and determination to finish this mission successfully. The wind blew gently, yet the breeze felt cold, and as it passed you by, it left an eerie feeling, like you were being meticulously watched. You stopped walking, listening to the critters of the night and the distant wind chimes. But instead of finding comfort, the sounds felt like an omen.

Something was off.

You were a few feet away from reaching the back door, but it still felt like a threat. Without a sword, you felt naked and vulnerable to whatever was preying on you, and you already knew what it was.

The shoji back door slid open with a swish. Your knees bent, and your body got into a fighting stance, hands reaching for the katana on your side like muscle memory, momentarily forgetting it wasn’t there.

“Is something wrong, dear? Why were you in the forest so late at night? Don’t you know there’s all sort of dangers lurking about?”

Your husband stood under the door frame. He had taken off his western clothes wearing a black yukata shirt and white flowing pants. The fedora he wears often didn’t cover his black curls, and they flowed gently pushed by the breeze. His pearly white skin almost gleamed under the moonlight. Your husband has always looked like an ethereal vision, and knowing what he truly was, didn’t comfort you, but it didn’t keep you from admiring his beauty.

For the sake of keeping face, you visibly relaxed, showing off your practiced smile.

“Ah, I apologize if I worried you, I couldn’t sleep and decided to take a brief walk. I should’ve been more careful.”

Your husband’s stoic and mildly concerned expression slowly morphed to an unbelievable closed-eye smile.

“I see; my wife thinks she’s not lovely enough to be devoured by demons. Even if you can’t sleep, you shouldn’t wander into the woods, my dear.”

You gave him a smirk. “Would you devour me if you were a demon?”

His eyes seemed to glow as he glanced at you from under his lashes.

“I would gobble every last bit.”

A shiver ran down your body, and you swore you were paralyzed.

“D-Dear, I thought you had a meeting and had to leave. Is everything alright?”

You changed the subject taking a couple of steps forwards. It would be weird if you didn’t come closer to the one, you’re supposed to trust.

“I forgot some important paperwork and realized once I was at the station. I have sent a letter informing them I will be one day late. Imagine my surprise when I return home to find my wife gone in the middle of the night, only to see her coming out of the forest.” his tone was clipped at the end like he was holding back his temper.

You made it to the ledge of the balcony. In this manner, he was taller than you because he was standing on the edge looking down at you.

“Come inside; I will join you shortly.”

You gave him a stiff nod and made your way inside, passing him by as you entered. He sniffed your scent as you went, eyes closing as he took in your essence. With the way you smelled, he always swore you were a marechi; maybe that's why he couldn't seem to keep away.

You knew he wouldn’t really join you. He always told you the same lie every night, but he ended up cooped inside his study, and tonight you doubt it would be the exception. Of course, you were glad about it.

You went under the covers after changing. Mind fondly thinking about Rengoku and his warm embraces.

Your body stiffened as you felt the covers lift and his body move closer to yours. Cold hands slithered around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. His black curls grazed your cheeks as his face hid in the crook of your neck. You felt him take a breath, leaving a kiss that made you shiver.

Everything about him was cold.

Instead of feeling safe in the only place you could, you felt like prey.

“My beautiful wife,” he whispered, “so fragile and lovely” he left another kiss behind your ear, hands slithering over your body “why oh why do you have to be so unfaithful” your blood went cold in your veins, and you felt your heart swell with shock.

Your reaction made Muzan chuckle. He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face as your brain was scrambled for a second.

“W-what do you mean, dear?” You replied, trying to relax your body and as innocently as possible slip away from his embrace to face him. His hold on you tightened.

“He’s very boisterous for a hashira. I wonder how long his positivity would last in a fight with me. Would you like to see us, beloved?” Your body tensed, your mind went blank, and you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips.

“Back in my time, if a wife was caught being disloyal to her husband, man and wife would both be executed in public while the husband watches” his fangs grazed your pulse as he leaned even closer to your ear, “but I am merciful.”

The move was so fast you barely had any time to think how to counter it. Muzan grabbed your shoulders, pinning you to the bed, straddling your hips with the rest of his weight. His red eyes glowed in the darkness of the room, no longer hiding their slit pupils as they glared into your own.

“I haven’t heard you pleading yet, mmm, perhaps you think I joke about this matter.” Muzan leaned until his lips were almost touching yours “do you think me a lesser demon that the likes of you could easily defeat? Someone who looks so close to death’s door that a strong wind might make them fall?” He licked a strip from your lip to your cheek and leaned back, smirking smugly at you.

“My darling, do you still not know who I am after all the time we’ve spent together?” He teased, hips suddenly jerking forwards. By now, you were terrified. But you kept your composure on the outside, merely looking at him in slight surprise for being so bold.

He had to be toying with you; the assignment clearly stated he was one of the upper moons, and you didn’t miss any details. As long as you kept calm, you could diffuse the situation and escape to the forest where your katana was.

“Very well, I grow bored of your own stupidity. I did think you were perfect. I groomed you to be so. But perhaps I made a mistake somewhere along the way that made you think you could look at someone else. Your eyes are for me and me alone, and I won’t let others have what is mine” Muzan was much too quick for you, and you couldn’t move your arms fast enough to protect yourself from the slash.

You screamed.

The stinging pain was unbearable as you cried and thrashed under him. Your whole body tried to twist and turn away, legs kicking out from under him, but he wouldn't budge. Your hands went to your eyes, but he intercepted them, holding each wrist beside your head.

Blood poured from your wound, rivulets came down the sides of your face and even into your ears. The feeling of it going down your ear canal was uncomfortable, but it couldn’t be compared to the pain in your eyes. You tried to open them but didn’t even know if they were opened or remained closed.

There was so much blood.

Muzan leaned forward, still gripping your wrists to keep you from touching the wound. His nails dug into your skin as you twisted, trying to get out from the hold. He laid his head in the crook of your neck, body hunching over yours as he hummed and nestled against your neck, feeling some of the blood drip unto him.

Cold lips kissed a path from your neck to your collarbone, nibbling the skin and coming to rest his head on your breasts. Like a newborn, he nuzzled into your chest, feeling content and completely ignoring your cries or the way your chest rattled with your sobs.

You couldn’t breathe properly, hyperventilating as if with each breath, the air wasn’t really reaching your lungs. Hysteria was setting in. Tears of blood were streaming down to your hairline as your dry throat coughed up.

“P-please,” your voice wavered, and it brought delight to the demon, making him shiver. Muzan straightened once more, licking your blood from his fingers, looking down at his masterpiece. His body shuddered in delight at the taste of your blood, so you were indeed a marechi.

In a couple of minutes, you would truly be perfect.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he cooed, “it’s alright, my beloved, I forgive your trespass. I leave so much you probably thought I didn’t love you. It was my fault for neglecting you. Don’t despair; from now on, I will be the loving husband you want me to be” Muzan kissed your cheek as you began to lose consciousness. “We will be perfect.”

“I’ll see you when you wake, beloved.”

Everything began on that day.

Everything began on that day.

You were a beautiful woman. With your brown skin and dark hair, twisted and braided into a style foreign to the land. You stood out among the pale-skinned and tanned people. Your beauty was chalked up to the result of the western beauty standards. However, despite your beauty, the treatment you received was not something a person of your appearance would experience. After all, you were a slave. Sold to the highest bidder like livestock. When your master first bought you, he stripped you bare and had the other servants wash you to try and rid of the “black ink” on your skin. I was only when your skin started turn red and bleed after the continuous rough scrubbing. Did your master realize that the brown color was your natural skin color.

For a short while, he was outraged that the slave trader had scammed him of his money. Going as far as demanding that they be brought to him and accept punishment. Soon though, he had come to accept you as a servant. You were fast and efficient with your chores, and you were definitely easy on the eyes as well. Something that irked him about you, was that you rarely showed emotion. You always kept an impassive expression on your face, and looked at him with your dull eyes as if you weren’t really looking at him.

Your master was a bad and sadistic man, and when you gave him a lack of response upset him. So, he did whatever he could to get a reaction out of you. Beating you, killing or whipping whoever got close to you in front of you, upping your chores, accusing you of crimes you didn’t commit. Even going as far as making you lay in bed with him against your will. But even as he defiled and tainted you in the worst ways possible, you remained somehow even more emotionless as before. Looking like a doll as you put up with everything he did to you.

As time passed, your master grew even more angry with you and you took it. You tried to fake an emotion to appease him but that only angered him more, thinking you were mocking him. He beat you worse that day and you never tried again. All this happened behind closed doors, and when guests were over, he would doll you up and send you out to entertain his guests. Especially the male ones as they stared at your exotic form with awe and lust. They had no restraint with touching and speaking with you as they pleased. Through these social events, you learned a lot of stuff that was happening in your area. Whether it be gossip or news, you knew it all. People had oil on their tongues when a lowly slave was around.

Despite your pretty face and slender body, your skin was littered with scars from beatings. Parts of your skin blackened from all the hard work. Soon enough, your master grew tired of you. Sending you off to serve his sickly son as a sort of punishment. Seeing as none of the other slaves and maids wanted to near or tend to him, not wanting to be close to such a sickly person. But you didn’t mind, you simply bowed your head in recognition of your assignment. It didn’t take long for you to move into the separate building, you didn’t own much and the things you did were easy to move.

Meeting you master’s sick son was probably the most important encounter you’ve had in your life. His name was Muzan, and he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. When you first saw him, something in your heart fluttered, and for once you were thankful of your dark skin to hide your probably flushed cheeked. Despite his pale skin and frail body, you saw a handsome man who only yearned to be somebody important. You didn’t express your feelings though, that would be something you took to the grave. No matter how much your master disliked Muzan, and discarded him as a burden. He was still ranks above you and it would be blasphemy for him and you to have any sort of relationship past master and slave.

So you locked away your emotions and did your duty with the best of your abilities. For some time, you both rarely shared words apart from the formalities. However, as time slowly passed, you and him gained a trustful relationship. He was the only person who saw your smile and heard your quiet laugh. Who could sometimes feel your hair on the rare occasion you’re feeling bold and didn’t care about boundaries. Who saw your eyes change from their usual dull hue to hold sympathy at the sight of his illness flaring up. The only person who could see your face show any emotion besides indifference. The only person who could get a reaction from you from his lingering touches and flirty words.

Your relationship has long passed just a master and his slave. From longing touches and gazes, to secret kisses behind closed doors and lovesick conversations made in the dead of night to keep from getting caught. It was a whirlwind for you, to go from being an empty shell to being a human being in love. With her masters son no less. However, you didn’t care about what your master thought. This time, you wanted to be selfish, you wanted to love this man freely and be happy.

And nothing was ever going to take him away from you.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You first found out about Muzan’s transformation when he had killed one of the maids that attended to him. You had noticed his strange behavior after the doctor had visited him. After all, you were the one to dispose of the body. It was on one of your round trips around the manor when you heard a lowly thud. The sound was so quiet that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been paying attention. You ran to the general direction where the sound came from and a small amount of fear ran through you.

The only room in that direction was Muzan’s bedchambers, since he preferred to be alone. So he stayed in a secluded and dark part of the house. You were quickly to open his sliding doors, not bothering to knock or ask for permission to enter. What greeted you though was a horrific sight that will forever stick with you. Even through the future centuries. Your hands flew to your mouth to stop yourself from screaming and from shock.

One of the maids mangled and dead body laid on the ground in a pool of their blood. The acrid smell of iron hit you in the face and it suddenly was a struggle to appear composed. The missing arm of the maid was held in your lovers hand. Large bite marks littered the limb and blood stained his face. Flashbacks from your time in the masters house made you really want to recede back into your empty shell.

It was only when you finally looked into Muzan’s eyes did you somewhat control yourself. His eyes shined a bright crimson red in the dark room, illuminated by the full moon. His pupils were predatory, eyeing you like it’s next prey. While beautiful, they were soulless, empty, and uncaring of the action he had just done. Those were the same eyes he looked upon you with. The same eyes that striked an unfamiliar fear into your heart and a bone-chilling shiver through your body.

A part of you understood that if given the right reason, he would kill you like he did her. You’re sure that he saw that understanding in your slowly dulling eyes. He stood up. Something he would usually have trouble doing, it only occurred to you now that he wasn’t in bed. Walked towards you, leaving the arm as if it was some old boring things, and stood over you. It was also now that you realized just how much taller he was than you, not that you had the will to even strain to look up at him. Opting to stare aimlessly at his now broad chest, and restraining yourself from glancing over at the dead girl laying in a dark corner of the room.

He placed his bloody hand on your cheek, caressing your face with his thumb and smearing blood on your face. This loving gesture didn’t last long before he moved his hand to your throat. Using his thumb to forcefully move your head up and look at him, you both only stared at each with empty eyes. His grip around your throat wasn’t necessarily tight but the threat was there, that at any moment he could kill you and silence you forever.

“I’m sorry my love, for you to see me in such a unsightly situation. Surely, you would still love a beast like me right?” He spoke, his words flowing off his tongue like oil.

“After all, who else would love you like I do? My dear father abuses you, the other servants and slaves all hate you, and you have nowhere to go. No one would dare take you as a wife and love you as much as I do. So, you wouldn’t betray me right?”

His words stung yet you couldn’t help but agree with him. He was the only one who treated you well, and you were willing to risk your life on the fact that he loved you. He was playing with the ribbon in your hair before pulling it, making it come undone, releasing them from its neat bun. Your beautifully done and decorated braids almost gracefully fell down to your sides and face. Your hair was the only luxury you were allowed to have, since people were enamored with the unique hairstyle and your master often made you do your hair to satisfy his guests.

You stared into his dull eyes that didn’t match with the loving expression he made. But you didn’t care, as long as he continued to love you then it didn’t matter what he did. You weren’t allowed to be picky. So you smiled, reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I would never Muzan-sama, I will forever love you and follow to the ends of the earth. I will worship you, care for you, fight for you, and do everything you ask of me. So please, continue to love me.”

Your words were like sweet honey to his ears, as his hand moved from your throat back to your cheek. Uncaring of the blood that now stained your skin, he kissed you with such passion that you just couldn’t resist returning. You loved this man. So you didn’t mind the disgusting taste of iron in your mouth, or ignoring the poor dead girl with lifeless eyes that stared at both your forms. You didn’t mind when he closed back his door and carried you to his bed, your legs wrapped around his waist, swollen lips, and messy clothes. You didn’t mind when he bit his own tongue while kissing you, giving you his blood. Making you go through the painful process of turning into a demon, nearly tearing your own throat from the intense burning sensation.

A part of you died that night, both physically and emotionally. As he peppered kissed along your panting form, only being able to let out pained moans in return. You felt a sense of acceptance as he held you so intimately.

“My beloved toy~, forever and always~”

Yes, you’ve accepted your position in this accursed life. You’ll forever be Muzan’s woman, his toy, his wife, his lover, his one and only, for as long as your body still walked this earth.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Muzan had multiple ways of punishing you when you stepped out of line, some are more enjoyable than others. To be fair, he’s had thousands to perfect and come up with ideas to punish you. To keep track, you’ve categorized them into three categories. The physical, mental/emotional, and the sexual. Your least favorite is the mental ‘cause while you can heal physical wounds, you can’t heal your mental state.

You don’t have a most favorite. The other two are equally as bad, but if you had to choose, then sexual would be your choice. At least then you experience some type of pleasure. However, he rarely choose sexual punishments. Only when he’s already riled up does he decide ‘to show mercy’ on you.

You were hoping that he was in that mood today. It had been a really rough day and was annoyed with the useless bloodshed he was doing over simply getting annoyed. So you stopped him from killing a drunken that had accidentally stumbled into him in an alleyway. He didn’t take to kindly to that and was silent for the rest of the walk. You knew that your actions would have consequences, but you only hoped that he wouldn’t be so harsh.

So here you find yourself seated on your lovers lap, your back pressed up against his chest. His hand tightly gripping your bare waist to keep you still and from running away. His sharp nails dug into your skin and drew blood that trickled down your body and onto the bed. He didn’t care about it though, he would simply just replace the fabric once he was done. Not that you cared either, you were to busy clawing at his arms. Trying to escape from the immense pleasure he was giving you. His fingers working wonders on your cunt and making your vision go in and out.

He was meticulously rubbing your pussy from behind. Slow and gentle, then fast and rough thorough movements. Never really entering you, just rubbing and rubbing and rubbing with lots of pressure. Tips of his fingers grazing over your entrance, teasing you with an inch of penetration before going back. You’re holding onto his forearms while you grind yourself back against his fingers, whimpering as you get overwhelmed with pleasure. His lips on your neck. You’re pussy making such lewd sounds. You can’t hold back your orgasm any longer and you half expect him to pull away to deny you, your release. When you let out a loud cry from the intensity of your orgasm, you dig your nails into Muzan’s arms as he just keeps rubbing.

You realized that he intended to rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, and all you could do was lay there and take it.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You acting all heroic for a lowly human, hm?” He spat, hand moving from your waist to your throat, roughly moving your head back. A tight grip that would kill any normal person in minutes. It only served to make your vision turn white and arouse you more as he rips another orgasm out of you.

“Mghnn…M-Muzan-sama..agh, p-please forgive me” you moaned out.

“No no no, this is what you asked for so you take it like a good little whore. You wanna be a hero then take all the orgasms I give you”. You didn’t know that you would become such a mess simply from his fingers. Your body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure he was providing you, not even giving you a break in between your highs.

After what you presumed was your fourth orgasm did Muzan finally stop. By now, your clit was swollen and highly sensitive, to the point where it hurt with the pleasure. Fresh and dried tears stained your pretty face, along with your ruined makeup and blood from Muzan’s hand. Your neck was littered with hickeys and bleeding bite marks. Muzan still had a firm grip on your throat, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve blacked up at least once by now.

He forced your mouth open, shoving two cum soaked fingers into your mouth and down your throat. Despite being used to his rough behavior, your eyes still widened at the act and the taste of yourself on your tongue was sudden, but not exactly uncommon. After letting his fingers soak in your mouth, took them out and without warning, stuck his fingers into your still sensitive cunt. Eliciting a loud moan from your sore throat.

“You didn’t think that was the end, did you? Oh no, we’ve got all day to reward you” he spoke in a sultry tone, a smirk adorning him pale face.

He hoists one of your legs onto the bed and undid his pants, pulling it down to free his leaking erection. Even after thousands of years, his cock never fails to nearly split you open with its size. While it was the normal 6in in length, the girth of it was thicker and always stretched you out. The sight nearly made you drool in want and desperation.

He removed his fingers and lined up against your entrance. The feeling of him entering was dumbifying, making you cum just from the pleasure of him bottoming out. The sight of you was nothing short of shameful, with your hair a mess, tongue out and mouth wide open in a silent scream. His only act of kindness was giving you a second to get used to his size before pulling out and plowing back into you. He continued this rough pace, even letting you turn around so he could see your fuck-out face. You wrapped your legs around his waist and claw at his back. Even if the wounds from your scratches instantly healed, Muzan took silent pride in reducing to you to a mere lustful whore.

Your eyes were out of focus as your mind was fucked blanked, leaving no room for coherent thoughts. He loved hearing your sluttish moans, especially when it rose an octave higher when he hit that special spot. He loved watching your boobs jiggle from the force of his thrusts. Loved hearing your mindless babble of insensible words and his name. He loved everything about you, and this was his way of showing it.

So as you go through your latest release, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your back arching and fingers and toes curling up from the intense surge of pleasure wash over your body. Muzan is sure to ingrain the shameful images of you into his head, because you are the most perfect goddess to roam this earth. The only one fit to stand by his side and be tainted so much by him alone.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You knew this day would come.

The day where God would finally condemn you and your lover for your sins. You always dreaded the thought of finally dying. No matter the sugarcoated words Muzan would whisper into your ears, about how you and him would conquer the sun and rule the world. Bringing humanity to its knees. Even on the nights that he would hold your body so gently and spoke hushed promises of greatness. Deep down, you couldn’t believe him. God never favored the wicked, you knew this to be true. So Muzan’s words only gave you a temporary comfort.

There was no hope for redemption for you. You’ve done and said unspeakable things, some you don’t even regret nor care enough to remember. Muzan had tainted you through and through, with not only his blood running through you, but also some of his ways of thinking. You hated that part of you. You hated how quickly you were to anger now. How quickly you casted a humans’ life aside in favor of your own. How you were filled with a sense of ecstasy at the notion of being worshiped, seeing people grovel at your feet. You hated it with a burning passion. But what you hated more, was just how much you loved it.

You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re a horrible person. One that shouldn’t be allowed to roam the earth with the living. However, you were to selfish to concede to that. You didn’t want to die just to please humans, the thought disgusted you. All your life, you’ve bowed down to the will of man, enduring their lustful stare and inappropriate groping. Even now, you still had to bow down to your lover who had forced this repulsive lifestyle onto you.

So while it wasn’t a surprise, the revelation that you may actually perish tonight struck fear into your still heart. Tonight was the night that everything would finally come to an end. The continuous bloodshed between humans and demons had finally reached its peak. No matter how many slayer you struck down, more would rise to try and struck you down. The city was a a complete war zone. Houses and the streets were bathed in the fallen’s blood and lifeless bodies. It was a scene straight out of one’s worst nightmare. No. Even worse than that.

God showed no mercy that night. Neither for man or demon. While Muzan had ordered you to hide, the slayers forced their way to you and multiple fights ensued. While you were by no means weak, the mental strain from trying to fight off hoards of slayers was taxing. To the point where everything became a blur, the only thought in your mind was to survive no matter what and get back to Muzan. You told yourself that he fix everything, that you both would be able to live another day and he would fulfill all the promises of greatness with you.

You knew it was foolish thinking, but you wanted to believe so bad that it would become true. You loved him to much to simply give up. As the hours passed and the time of dawn grew closer, you slowly accepted your inevitable death. All the Upper Moons were dead and only you and Muzan were the last demons alive. The main two that everyone despised. In spite of the Upper Moons killing some of the hashiras, even the most badly injured ones stood tall and battled fiercely.

They swung their swords with such intensity and hatred that it almost made you want to surrender and beg for mercy on your death. You were starting to slow on your dodges, not finding openings to attack during their vicious assault. Your body was covered in your blood from multiple fatal wounds. Your eyes shined a bright red with narrow pupils and veins tracing the corners, canines sharp and stained with blood, showcased for all to see in a angry sneer. Your normally neat hair was wild and dirty from dirt and dry blood, more veins popping from your hands as you brandished you razor sharp nails. You looked absolutely feral and demonic.

During the fight, you were thrown into one of the abandoned houses. As you quickly got up, you got a glance of something from your side. You looked to get a clearer view, making sure it’s not a trap, the sight made your heart drop. It was a broken mirror, but in the remaining glass shards, you could see a broken reflection of yourself and what was looking back at you couldn’t have been what you looked like. This wasn’t what you wanted, you just wanted to live a happy life, not turn into a flesh-eating monster.

You didn’t have time to process your emotions as another barrage of attacks hit you. At this new revelation, you didn’t have the same fight to survive anymore. The horrific image of yourself haunted you. You wanted to give up, accept death and pray that God have mercy on your and Muzan’s soul. Muzan…..

That bastard.

At the reminder of Muzan, a wave of anger and hatred hit you. He was the cause of all of this. If he wasn’t so obsessed with power than you both could’ve just lived a happy life. But instead, he wanted more and more to the point where he hurt everything around him, even you. He was the reason why your life was so miserable, it wasn’t like he treated you good. He was constantly condescending and treated you like a trophy to the other demons, not even the lower moons respected you.

You constantly had to watch what you said around him in fear that he would punish you, and spent many lonely night by yourself when he was tending to his human wives. It disgusted you and you through multiple fits which he always responded to with a mere disappointed glare. “You are my wife, don’t embarrass me by acting so shamefully,” he would always say like you were in the wrong for getting upset. Even when you took on human lovers yourself to make him jealous, he would simply kill them and leave you for days or even weeks to ‘teach you a lesson’.

Many nights you cried into Daki’s arms from frustration with him, knowing you could do nothing about his behavior. There were even times where a part of you wanted him to die. For him to burn violently under that harsh sun and for there not to even be a speck of ash from his body left. For a him to get bested by a slayer and get mutilated past the point of recognition, or you would mercilessly smash his face into whatever surface you deemed suitable and stab him repeatedly. You wanted to break him in both mind and spirit, you wanted to have him grovel at your feet and beg for your attention like he does with you. Have him lick at your feet and hump your leg like a dog in heat.

It was then you realized just how much he tainted you. In your previous life, you would’ve never thought like this, but after years of being with Muzan, you have changed and turned evil. You also realize that, that was exactly what he wanted. In order for you to stay by his side, you needed to be able to handle the role of being the second most hated person in the world. What made you hate you hate him, was the fact that despite all the abuse he put you through. You still love him. You love him with all your heart, body, and soul.

The sun was beginning to rise and you knew your time has come. Muzan was backed into many corners and had changed his form many times, but even then nothing could prevent his death. He had transformed into a big hideous baby to try and protect himself from the sun but it was futile. You could hear his inner cry and the form try to dig underground, desperately trying escape death. At this point, you’ve had enough and sent a power blow to the remaining slayer trying to finish you off. Making a dash for your husband, you evaded the slayer trying to stop you and reached Muzan’s deformed body.

You pressed your body against it and you could feel your physical body being absorbed. All you wanted to do was to see your husband one last time and you desperately searched for his subconscious. You saw him trying to convince Tanjiro to take his place as the demon king, to finish what he had started. But the boy refused, leaving Muzan behind to reunite with his fellow slayers and friends. Muzan cried out in frustration and desperation, for him to come back and fulfill his dying dreams. He didn’t listen though and left him alone in the darkness. You saw him become angry and it broke your heart to see him in such a state. No matter how badly he treated you, you couldn’t stand to see him experience such pain.

As you watch him, you saw that he is experiencing the true feelings of despair. He sees his dreams disappearing right before his eyes. Everything that he worked so hard for was slipping right through his fingers and there was nothing he could do about it. His eyes are wide as they try to process just what was happening, how something like this could happen to a god like him. He was supposed to have everything yet somehow, he doesn’t.

Then, through the darkness and hopelessness of it all, you appeared. He expected you to yell at him, hit him, curse him for not giving you what he had promised. Instead, you looked at him with loving and sad eyes with a reassuring smile. His anger got the best of him as he yelled at you, “what’re smiling at! We’re fucking dead and all you want to do is stand there and look pretty!?”.

He expected you to get angry back, after all, he had turned you into a vindictive woman. However, instead of retaliating and blaming him for their failure, you sigh, a tired exhale that holds no disappointment or contempt. “It’s okay, you tried your best and lost, it’s not your fault,” you say, and as your words finally catch up to him, Muzan feels his world come to a hard stop. Since he became a demon, he’s told himself that he always needs to be the best. That demons were superior to everyone else and he was the only one worthy to be the king. He was a god, everyone else should just bend to his will and die. There was no way a god like him would die by those filthy humans -

It’s the familiar warm fingers, gently caressing over his cheek that snap him back to reality. Slowing down his rapid breathing. When he blinks up at you, he finds you kneeling in front of him. Your arms wrapped protectively around him, his cheek pressed against your exposed cleavage as if a mother was hugging their child. His hands immediately come from tightly gripping your forearms to embrace you, to his palms on your back and nails curling against your kimono. Cradling the back of his head, uncaring of the way he breaks down before you. Nothing but a warm smile graced your bloodied lips.

“It’s okay, it’s all over now. You can finally rest,” you whisper, and for a moment. Muzan swears, he sees God’s deliverance through you. A overwhelming feeling of tranquility fills him as he embraced the sweet grips of your love and comfort. Now, the thought of dying didn’t seem so scary as it once did. He had no reason to fight anymore, his body was starting to disintegrate and as long as you were by his side then he didn’t care. His only wish would be that if there was a heaven or hell, then you would go to heaven. You didn’t deserve to burn in hell with him, you were just a soul that was tainted by the likes of him. However, some part of him selfishly wished that you would stay with him for eternity. Even if it meant that you would have to follow him down to hell.

“I love you,” Muzan spoke, voice hoarse from the pain of his burning body, and from the heavy weight of your words. Muzan’s shoulders hitch in an uncharacteristic sob, “my girl. The best woman in the whole world.”

“Yours…” you whispered back. A single tear slid down your cheek, the reality and acceptance of your deaths coming full force. “Yours, always and forever,” you added, a quiet tremble in your voice. You held him tighter, running your fingers through his hair, and let some of the sadness you felt seep into your tone.

“The Demon King’s wife. His Beloved Toy.”

Muzan looked up to see you smiling that small, fond smile again. Your eyes beaming with affection as you smiled down at him, your own body burning away. He felt tears sting at his eyes again, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret or feel shame for the way his legs trembled from kneeling for so long, or the way his being burned with anger and hatred for the demon slayers to reduce not only him but you to a pathetic mess. He just couldn’t, not with your hand on his head and around him. In his final moments, he enjoyed the view of all the colors of dawn as the sun rose over the destroyed village. Even after both of your bodies were no more than dust in the wind, he could still feel the warmth of your embrace. As the grips of death took ahold of him, he accepted his fate and let the darkness overtake him.

The next time he’s aware, he finds himself in his old home. The only difference was that it was surrounded by tall, thick, dark trees with red spider-lilies littering the area. He was dressed in his old garments that he wore before becoming a demon. Was this his punishment? To live as his old, weak and sickly self in that dark house caged in by a dark forest, for all of eternity. Even the sky was gloomy, with gray clouds blocking any potential sunlight. He was close to breaking down, but then the sliding door the to house opened. His eyes widened at the sight of you. Standing there in your past human form and clothes. Tears brimmed his eyes at the sight, hoping, praying, that this wasn’t just another way for hell to punish him. But when you smiled back at him, nearly as close to tears as him, he knew that you were his Y/n.

He walked to the porch and pulled you into a tight embrace. One you didn’t hesitate to return with matched emotions. Neither of you said anything, you were to busy crying into his clothes with happiness and he wanted to savor this moment of you finally back in his arms. Muzan buried his face into the top of your head, inhaling your sweet scent and smiling as a sense of peace washed over him.

He was home.

❄︎ kokushibo / michikatsu tsugikuni

you were waiting for him to arrive at your meeting place, where you two always meet during the full moon of the month. you were uneasy and anxious, clueless on how to bring up the topic to him.

it was earlier that day when the pieces finally fell in place and you managed to connect the dots in your head. you cannot believe that you were under a blood demon art all along.

that your feelings was nothing more than just a doing of evil and trickery.

the wind blew softly as you heard soft footsteps incoming, his familiar scent invading your senses but you knew better now, his scent no longer reminded you of flowers and spring, but it now reeked of blood and malice.

you turned to your left just in time to dodge an attack from him, easily avoiding a swing of his sword. you pushed back your tears as you forced yourself to harden and stand your ground.

"when were you going to tell me?" you tried to ask as you avoided each of his attacks, breath halting when he grazed your cheeks. his eyes stared down at you, belittling you.

"never. you were nothing more than a pawn i needed to use" he responded and his attacks became more lethal, his speed and strength increasing. you nodded and continued on battling him.

you countered his moon breathing with your thunder, but you were obviously far less efficient. your breath was limited to six forms while his extended up to sixteen forms.

but you persevered, forced your body to go past its limits. you refused to die at this moment, not when you barely contributed anything in defeating muzan.

your fatigue was catching up as you felt your knees giving up. the cons of being a breath of thunder user is the extreme strain it gives to your body after repeating a few forms. it was powerful, but it also required a lot of your stamina and strength.

kokushibo saw you lose accuracy and your hit was not as powerful as your preceding ones. his six eyes enabled him to see your tiredness and strain. his transparent world let him see your broken bones, internal bleeding and stiff muscles.

he sighed and halted his attacks, gladly taking your attacks but when you neared his nape, he held your wrist in a tight grip. "stop it. you already know how this will end" he said and threw you to the ground.

you cried out in pain and let the tears fall as you can no longer conceal the pain you feel, both emotional and physical.

you heard him making his way towards you so you forced yourself to sit up and look at him. he had no emotion whatsoever on his face as if nothing meant to him.

you let out a dry laugh, blood exiting your mouth. and those laughter turned into sobs and whimpers, which later turned into screams of agony and anger.

you stood up and met him halfway. he halted and looked at you with indifference, not batting at an eye even though you had a foot in death's door.

"why?" you asked quietly as you balanced yourself, looking up at him. he did not waver, even as he saw your tear stained face and blood stained lips.

"for muzan-sama" he said, eliciting a chuckle from you. of course, the ever loyal and strong upper moon one would answer with this question.

"of course, i bet it was fun to play with me and use me for your advantage" you replied, tired and sleepy. you tiptoed and pulled him into a hug.

he stiffened and froze, alert for anything you might do to him. but at your state, you were incapable of doing anything so he let you rest against him.

"what a wonderful way to go" you muttered before finally succumbing to eternal sleep, entering death's door and closing it with a shut.

kokushibo didn't bother to move as your body slid to the ground, dropping dead on the soil, your blade beside you. he turned away, walked away, away from you and the bitter reminder that he lost you.

no, you left him. just like everyone does.

you were just like his brother, leaving him behind in the dust. that's why he will hate you as long as he's alive.

❄︎ douma

he noticed that you were not quite yourself the entire afternoon, often staring into space and not responding as quick as you usually do. he didn't do anything that could've possibly upset you, so he racked his brain, wondering why you're so down.

after a few moments, realization struck him.

he felt you giving him random glances and stares throughout the day, and whenever he would suddenly make a move, as simple as standing up or turning at you, your hand would unconsciously grab the handle of your sword.

so you found out, after all. he didn't expect that it'll be this soon though. it certainly would make his plans and efforts go down the drain.

alas, you decided to leave the confrontation in the evening, in your house. you felt that he knew that you knew, because he made no attempt to initiate a conversation. just staring at you with a playful smile on his face.

you cleared your throat and sat straight, trying to feel his aura and intent, but he was calm as always, showing no signs of malice or harm.

you stared at his eyes, which was already staring at your form and tried to look for answers there but to no avail. of course, what would you expect from this demon that has no emotions. a demon whose heart is not beating.

"were you ever planning to tell me?" you asked in a hoarse voice, holding onto the last of your energy and power left in your body.

you were mad at yourself for feeling this way. for feeling disappointment and for feeling pain for this demon. you felt worthless at that moment. you felt pathetic and weak when you connected the dots.

were you so unlovable that you held onto false pretenses given by a foul creature? were you so blind as to fall in love with a demon? you questioned yourself repeatedly what was wrong with you to develop such heavy feelings for the upper moon two.

you were holding them back for the entire day but your tears betrayed you as they began to stream down your face. you aggressively wiped them, not wanting douma to see your vulnerable state.

you heard him coo, walking over to where you are, and when he was about to pull you in for a hug, you reacted quickly and sliced his arms off, which grew back just as quick as it disappeared.

"yes i was. at your final moments, of course" he admitted and fanned himself, chuckling at your mortified expression. you hardened at this statement, forcing all the mixed feelings out of your chest, replacing them with anger and rage.

you brought up your sword, assuming a battle stance. you knew well where this was heading, but you refused to go down without a fight. you wanted him to remember you, you wanted him to know that you'll be waiting for him in hell.

"oh? i see. but, isn't it futile? you already know how this will end after all" he mocked you and got ready to fight you as well.

it was blow after blow, hit after hit. your body was worn out but your heart didn't want to give up yet. the shame, frustration and anger boiling deep inside of you made you want to go all out and push yourself.

your heart rate rose as you feel your body get hotter and hotter, and before long, you saw your blade turn a bright shade of red. you did not know what it is but you continued to swing it at douma, slicing his arms.

he stopped in his tracks, wondering why he wasn't regenerating. he looked back at you, eyes widening at the sight of thunder-like marks on your forehead and cheek.

"that-" but you did not let him continue. you felt a sudden surge of power and stamina and you were not letting it go to waste. you continued your assault, hampering his regeneration and slowing his attacks.

the mixed feelings made their way back and you had a hard time breathing again, losing control of your momentum and peak, creating an opening for douma.

you cursed as he sped to you and in a moment, he ripped your still beating heart out of your chest. he did not bother to turn around to see your limp body falling to the ground.

he held your heart close to his face, seeing it beat slower and slower. "ah! so this is what a beating heart looks and feels like" he said in amazement, frowning when it stopped beating and lay still on his palm

"oh? we have the same heart now, y/n-chan. dead and, not beating" he turned to look at your dead body, feigning shock and sorrow. "silly me, you wouldn't hear because you're dead already" he said and tossed your heart on the ground, walking away.

to douma, he just wanted someone to make his heart beat. you did actually, but you also made it stop.

so, you became worthless in his eyes the moment you no longer made it beat.

❄︎ akaza

you rushed to your home after finding out the piece of information that bothered you for the longest time. you knew since then that there was something off about your lover, but you fail to pinpoint it every single time.

so when you went to kocho for a medical exam, she was surprised to find traces of blood demon art on you, and you were finally able to connect the pieces in your head.

you did not know what to feel nor what to do nor what to think about in that exact moment. you just wanted to see him at that exact moment, you wanted him to explain.

you heaved and fought back the tears blurring your vision, because you hated it when feelings got in the way of the mission every single time. you knew that your only option now was to kill him, because he’s a demon, an upper rank moon at that.

so you ran and ran until you reached your home. you could feel his presence inside and you felt dread overcome you as you feel that he didn’t conceal his demonic aura anymore. does he know that you know?

but there was no time for hesitations, so you kicked in the door open and burst through the threshold, and you saw him there, standing in front of a portrait. all breath from your lungs when you see which portrait he was staring at. 

it was yours, he painted you on your birthday a few months back. it was not like the exquisite paintings you see at the market or the headquarters, but this portrait held a special place in your heart, simply because it was from your lover.

you walked up to him slowly, cautious of his every move. you knew that you stood no chance against him in a one-on-one battle, but you did not let yourself get disheartened at that thought. 

when you were finally beside him, you looked at the portrait before you, studying each stroke and color that blended with each other to create your face, hair, body. it is evident that he put in a lot of effort into painting your eyes, it looked so real and as if he took all the stars in the sky and placed them in your eyes.

you feel his gaze go from the portrait to you, studying your features silently, like he was memorizing each detail, like this was the last time he was going to ever see you up close. you turned to meet his eyes, and even though it said “upper moon three”, you did not feel any hostility from them. 

you felt sadness and despair, as if he is afraid to do anything or even think about anything. 

you sighed and with all your courage, you raised your hand to cup his cheek, letting your tears fall freely, not bothering to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. “you already know how this will end” you muttered and you stood frozen in place as he began to cry as well. 

you looked up at him and saw him crying his heart out and you did not know what to do. you stood rooted in place as he leaned in to hug you. on reflex, you evaded his hug and jumped back, your hand subconsciously gripping your sword. 

and your heart broke to pieces as you realize what you did, when you saw his reaction and his lost expression. but you did not mind, you pushed away the resurfacing feelings. because you needed to get the job done. 

“let’s finish this, upper moon three” you said, tired and helpless. you might die but at least you put up a fight, at least you did not surrender. but you were dumbfounded when you see him take a seat on the couch, still admiring the portrait hung on the wall, not making any move to attack you nor defend himself.

“i don’t touch women” he replied in a low voice, eyes still pinned on the painting. you lifted a brow and put your sword down, gauging his reaction and aura, trying to see if he has ulterior motives. “i don’t kill them, eat them, nor fight with them. i just don’t” 

you stared at him, giving him an incredulous look, but there was nothing you can sense or get from him, so you yielded and took a seat as well. silence engulfed the room for minutes and minutes until he stood up and walked to you slowly. before you can get away, he already has you in his soft yet strong embrace, sobbing into your neck. 

you did not know how to react so you just stood still, letting him be vulnerable in front of you as you also let your feelings resurface, crying silently but akaza caught your whimpers and teardrops. 

he pulled back to press a kiss to your temple, looking into your eyes after that. “hey, the sunrise is beautiful, right?” he asked and you knew right then and there what he was planning to do. you broke free from his grasp then. 

“w-what? no, you’re not going anywhere” you said which made him smile sadly, he pulled you in for a hug again, not minding your punches on his chest. you did not want to bid farewell like this, it was unworthy and an insult to your abilities. 

“there’s no way we can live like this. always remember that i will never regret meeting you and loving you, my only regret is that i tricked you” he said and broke free, walking towards the front door as the sun slowly began to rise, illuminating the small town you resided in. 

as the sun began its assault on the upper moon’s skin, he turned to look at you and smiled brightly and you saw his eyes return to normal, looking like a human’s eyes totally. 

“hakuji, i am hakuji” he said as the sun dissolved him, as you watched him disintegrate into ashes. 

you smiled bitterly as you gathered his ashes, a reminder that he was here. that you loved someone like him. 

because all akaza ever needed was someone to love and to be there at the right moment and time for the person he loves. and he was glad to fulfill that wishes for you. 

It wasn’t until you had purchased quite a bit of fabrics of different colors did Akaza think to ask you what you’d come for.

You smiled and playfully held a finger to your lips, an action so hauntingly familiar to Muzan’s, yet yours held an entirely different weight. Yours was lighter and softer, more of a playful shush than a demand of silence. “I’ll tell you, but only if you keep it a secret from Lord Muzan!”

Akaza’s eyebrows lifted, an expression of both apprehension and interest crossing his features. You told him about your hobby back when you were human, how you loved to sow and create delightful patterned kimonos and other fabrics. Your expression grew somber when you explained others around you would negate or dirty your work.

“But I still love to create those fabrics,” you continued, checking the colors you’d picked out already as you spoke, “and I wanted to create something nice for Lord Muzan as a thank-you for saving me from my dreadful human life.”

Akaza smiled gently at you then, absently wondering how something sweet and delicate like yourself could’ve been turned into a strong demon. You weren’t on par with any of the Upper Moons, perhaps not even a Lower Moon at that, but Akaza knew you would get there someday. You already showed promise of that.

“I’m sure Lord Muzan would love your gift. Do you have everything you need? I brought along extra money if it’s needed.”

It was your turn to smile up at him, your eyes glittering with warmth as your grin stretched wide across your face.

“Sometimes you’re too sweet to be as terrifying as you actually are, Akaza. But no, thank you, I believe I have everything.” You took a moment to adjust your grip on the basket of fabrics in your hands. “We can return.”

~~~

The minute you got back to the home Muzan had you stay in, you absconded to your room with your things, wanting to get right to work before Muzan could find you and ruin the surprise you had planned for him.

Your hands glided through each step of the process, the kimono beginning to form in shades of deep violet and black. As you worked, you couldn’t help but hope and pray your measurements were correct. You were too afraid to ask for Muzan’s measurements in fear he’d figure out what you were planning.

Still, if the measurements weren’t correct, you could always offer to fix them.

You didn’t hear your door slide open as you were making the final adjustments and folding the new clothing into a neat, presentable pile, nearly jumping a foot in the air when a voice sounded behind you.

“Are you hiding something from me? You’ve been avoiding me (Y/n).”

To your credit, you were quick to spin on your heels and give a respectful bow.

“Not at all Lord Muzan! I merely wished to create something for you and didn’t want the surprise to be ruined!”

It was quiet as he studied you, that piercing, red gaze of his settling a weight onto your shoulders. But only for a moment, as the weight lifted as his expression softened.

“A surprise? May I see what it is?”

You lifted your head and nodded with a smile, turning around as Muzan welcomed himself further into your room.

“I do hope the measurements are correct. If not, tell me and I can easily fix them!”

You wonder if you were ever the first to see genuine surprise on the Demon Lord’s face, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as you presented the kimono to him.

“You made this?” He asked, carefully unfolding the fabric to examine it in full.

“I did. Fabric making has always been a fun hobby for me. And again, apologies for not telling you, I really did wish to surprise you.”

Muzan’s face melted into a smile as he carefully folded the kimono again, holding it close to him. “Thank you (Y/n), I quite like the colors you picked.”

“You do?” You couldn’t hold in your happiness at this point, your joy shining through and breaking your formality. “Oh I’m so glad! I’ll happily make you anything else you’d like!”

“I look forward to it.” Muzan hummed, turning to exit your room with his usual grace.

~~~

You were in your room, sketching out a new design idea that had popped into your head before bed when you felt Muzan’s presence behind you. You didn’t have time to turn and acknowledge him when he sat next to you, the new kimono you made for him fitting his form near perfectly.

Wordlessly, he held out his hand, and you wasted no time in giving him yours, palm up as you’d been instructed to a few times before. He smiled warmly, leaning forward to kiss the backs of your fingers as his free hand dripped drops of his blood into your awaiting palm.