𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✓ | Muzan X Reader X Giyuu

36. Fly High

A bright light blinked in your brain as you registered the scene in front of you.

Muzan's here.

Muzan's here.

Muzan's here.

And you couldn't believe it.

Through your teary and blurred vision, one cautious glance in his direction told you that he was angry.

No, he was beyond angry.

Your husband's fury was a hot and boiling one, bubbling just under the surface of his skin such that you can nearly see the fiery crimson of it.

Furthermore, his gaze was deeper and darker than anything you'd ever seen, primal emotion reverberating from its unmeasurable depth.

Despite the various emotions that popped like firecrackers across Muzan's face, one thing was clear:

That man was starving.

Starving for revenge.

However, Douma, who turned towards the demon lord, hardly appeared surprised by his master's sudden and dramatic arrival.

Instead, the Upper Moon Two tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, much like a dog that had heard a faint noise off in the distance.

He was also the first to speak.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Douma sang, cheerfully waving his arm to secure your husband's attention. "Come join, this'll be so much fun with the three of us!"

The subordinate held his smile even as Muzan neared, your husband's knuckles highlighted in black and white as they protruded from the curl of his fingers into his palm.

"You've been so slow with everything," the Upper Moon continued to whine, completely ignoring his leader's signs. "Now that I captured Y/N, and we can figure out where the—"

"Shut up," Muzan interjected, a shocking change from his typically calm demeanor. "Say one more word, and I'll staple your freaking mouth closed."

You nearly shouted at your husband, almost cautioning him that Douma was not a normal person.

Had he gone absolutely nuts for trying to command the Upper Moon like an untrained horse?

But then, you stopped yourself.

Muzan was the demon king, right?

Whenever he wanted to, he could whip out a bazooka and kill the blonde in an instant.

So, if you were Douma, you would obediently zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket.

But you weren't, which meant that the real Douma had a bit of trouble following his orders.

"You shouldn't hold yourself back just because Y/N's your little wifey," the blonde complained.

Everyone in the half-shambled room tensed at the words, and so did you.

Muzan's eyes held all the deadliness of a violent predator, narrowing into thin lines that ignited with unresolved irritation.

Douma's eyes, on the other hand, had lost the magical radiance in its rainbow and were replaced by a cold and emotionless detachment.

Crap, they're surely not going to—

But faster than you could stuff a twinkie down your throat, Muzan lurched toward the Upper Moon Two, rearing his arm back aimed at Douma's perfect face.

The resulting punch is lightning-fast, filled with enough power to suggest that Muzan was very, very dangerous.

It was enough to get Douma to finally shut his trap as the blonde massaged his reddened cheek in pain.