✻|| 𝓡𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮 ||✶ - 鬼滅の刃

【𝓓𝓸𝓾𝓶𝓪】

↠Fem Reader
↠Fluff

Word Count - 1074
Fleur de lys - Published 1/26/21

Fleur de lys: A species of flower that grows along France, commonly depicted as a deep purple. It is a lasting emblem of royalty, power, honor, grandeur, faith and unity.
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Padding down the halls of the compounds, your long silk haori fluttered with each distracted step. You had been wandering the hallways for what seemed to be forever, your mind never comprehending each turn and change of scenery. The delicate flower pinched between your forefingers had certainly caught even your picky attention.

Earlier that evening you had been rummaging through the estate's flourishing gardens, and the small purple blossom stood out amongst the rest of the overgrowth. You didn't have to think again before your slender fingers plucked the poor thing, now carrying it along with your curious form for the entirety of dusk.

For now at least, you had wanted to show off the unique little thing before it lost its last drop of life—it had been wilting considerably since you found it. Unlike the other full bouquets of blossoms you had received in earlier days, this little thing was nothing of the sort. Maybe it's drooping petals were not as luscious as the full lotuses that were bestowed upon you, but the color was simply fascinating.

Surely you just had to ask what it was.

Twirling the stem between your fingers and bringing it closer to your inspecting eyes, the loyal calls of the followers about you hadn't filled your ears, brushing them off like any other unnecessary thing in your life. When you finally reached the secluded corridor at the edge of the compound, your empty hand eagerly pushed at the formidable doors locking you alone.

And with the heavy groan of the entrance creeping open, the company within the room wasted no moment longer to glance up. You payed no mind to the poor beggar prostrated before your bare feet, merely approaching with the same entranced gaze to the flower in your grasp. Even when dark sticky blood crept along the floorboards a second later, and a loud thump fell deaf upon your ears, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

"What's the matter princess?"

The amused voice called out to your tranced form, shuffling amongst the crimson shrouded throne before a pair of colorful eyes caught your gaze. A sharp, threatening grin stretched along the demon's soon-to-be bloodstained lips, watching your every move. Pushing the translucent drapes aside, you lazily slouched in the lap of danger itself.

Raising the limp blossom to the demon's face, you sunk deeper against the frigid embrace that soon enveloped you. The foul stench of blood didn't really matter to your human consciousness that moment. When the object of your chagrin finally met his vision, the twisted grin fell from his lips.

"Douma, what's this?"

Staring boredly at the flower, sharp claws reached for it yet you shifted to protectively encase it against your chest. He wasn't quite fond of the fact that you were so entranced with such a thing, distracting you from his own godly figure. Leaning back against the padded throne, the demon perturbedly tapped a single pointed claw against his pale cheek, pouting at your sparkling gaze.

"It's a flower, just like any of the others." Attempting to reach for the lone blossom once more, a dangerous frown stretched across his face when you dodged him once more. Curling in on yourself, a hand rested along your shoulder in a tight grip. "Why won't you look at me princess? Surely I'm much more captivating than that dying thing."

Shaking your head to be difficult, you finally sat up once the hand forced you to. There was no other option but to watch as he snatched it from your weak grip. Bratty fat tears had begun to well in your eyes the moment the flower left your hold, reaching to take it back with futile efforts.

"But Douma, what flower is it?"

Humming at the question, Douma raised the blossom far out of your reach, studying its droopy petals with each twisted turn of the stem. Relaxing at his hesitant motions, you collapsed back against his chest, slumping limply once a muscled arm wrapped tight about your waist. Bringing it back down to your eyes, you took a final mesmerized glance before the soft petals were crushed beneath his fingers.

"An iris. I make them all the time for you, what's so special about that one?" And as if on cue, a replicated form of the blossom appeared at the tip of his finger, fully crafted with shimmering ice. Leaning your tired head beneath his own, you watched each flickering flame within the room reflect off its glinting surface. It still wasn't as beautiful as much as you loved his little sculptures.

Shaking your head in a lack of response, Douma thought nothing of your sudden shift in tone, snapping as the ice figurine shattered to snowy fragments. He only took the initiative to pull you closer, studying each and every move you made.

Feeling you still and silent in his lap, Douma glanced down at the mess he previously made before him. Your presence was quite unannounced and he knew of your impassiveness with his darker side, yet it didn't stop him from tearing the poor man to ribbons. What a bother, he'd have to find someone to clean the mess.

Mulling over his next few duties for the evening, he hadn't noticed the growing warm wetness seeping into the fabric of his shirt, glancing down to see your shoulders trembling ever so slightly. Scoffing at your attempted hidden display, the hand against your hip slid to run through a few tangled strands of your hair. You never really got upset.

"I'll ask the servants to bring you a whole bouquet of them later." And that seemed to do the trick as you instantly perked up at his words. Sucking in a quiet sniffle and lifting your glistening gaze to his own, you stared up in awe.

"Really?" You breathed, clutching tight at the front of his shirt. A faint nod verified your thoughts, and a bright smile was what you offered in return. Pulling you closer before either one of you had the chance to utter a single syllable, his cold lips quickly sought your own.

"As long as you don't forget about me."

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