✞ 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝. 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 '𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐲.
Muzan was someone who did not hold any sympathy, nor love for anyone...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-⚠︎︎mature & dark themes ahead
☾THIRD POV☽
The progenitor of demons was angered, once more. The twelve kizuki bowed their heads to their master, who's plum eyes glowed red in rage.
The room was silent, heads bowed as they all felt the heavy influence of the only and only, Muzan Kibutsuji. The power he held was enough to make anyone choke up out of fear, his presence alone was suffocating.
"Are you telling me... you let that slayer, escape?"
His voice though calm, had venom in his tone, biting into them with his authority. Clearly— their master was upset.
"I gave you a simple order to kill that slayer with the hanafuda earrings— yet you let him get the best of you." Muzan's eyes pierced into them, his slitted eyes becoming more noticeable, as veins popped from his forehead out of anger.
"Do you all fail to bring me any good news, each and every time?"
Silence.
"...Lord Muzan, please pardon my interruption—"
Another glare was thrown at them, this time pointed at Akaza, the pink haired demon stiffening up a little, but kept his composure.
"...But I would like to report to you, that we have recovered his body."
This rendered Muzan to halt his anger just a tad bit. Tilting his head up, he furrowed his brows as his eyes glowed a bright red, slitted eyes with a frown.
"Do not think that is something to boast about. Follow my original orders— I expect a good report next time you dare to appear in front of me again."
With that Muzan turned his back on the twelve, expression formed into his usual blank one. As Nakime strummed the biwa, the door opened and closed behind him immediately.
The demon king was greeted with the interior of his bedroom, the king sized canopy bed in the middle of the dark room that would usually be empty— lay a boy.
His body laying upon the red velvet silk sheets, unmoving. His (S/C) reduced to a pale color.
Darkness engulfed the room, if not for the candles by the bed side that burned a light orange color, emitting a glow into the room. The light reflecting softly on the unmoving male's body.
