[re-written]
♤
„Hello there"
„That's f*cking Obi-wan Kenobi"
„[ y/n ] that's a demon!"
♤
• Demon slayer various x fem!reader
• Contains manga spoilers
• Mention of blood, violence etc.
• No mary sue mc
• Englisch Is not my first language
Have fun re...
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「I don't expect you to agree with everything I say. But I do Expect you to know that I have my own view of things」
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SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY inside of a mansion hidden in a pocket of space — the infinity castle, how some might call it, there stood a man with curled, raven black hair and eyes as bright as rubies.
His rage was palpable — simmering and boiling within him and made apparent by the miosis and tense muscles that it caused.
He stared at one of the countless shoji doors, hidden within the deepest corners of the castle and only found by whomever already knows where to search. It had stayed untouched for the last few centuries. This certain door depicted a painting on it — the colors already crumbling and pale. Its content, however, could not be any clearer to the individual who gazed upon it.
Kibutsuji Muzan — the demon king, how he was referred to, had not felt this kind of irritation in ages.
It wasn't long ago, for a demon at least, that he suddenly felt the balance of this world shifting. Something had changed, altering the fabric of reality with it. It couldn't have been longer than two years ago that he felt the core of the world trembling. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there.
Back then, this certain painting had resurfaced in his memory. His instincts led him back into this corner that was so sparsely ever visited. He had never deemed it worth of notice, seeing as it only contained a plain, vague portrait of a female with closed eyes. Sun rays circled around her head in a symbolic manner.
In front of her was a demon, representing Beelzebub — one of the many forms of the devil himself, as he seemed to crumble in the presence of the woman towering above him.
It was a symbolic painting. The woman who embodied the deadly sun, and the demon which was executed by its mere presence. It described the flow of nature, or so he had thought.
He had spent numerous hours observing the picture ever since that shift in this world had occurred. He searched for meanings of it that he had been oblivious to before or objects hidden within it. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he came to the only rational conclusion there was; it wasn't just symbolic.
As absurd as the idea sounded to Muzan, he couldn't just turn his back onto the possibility that something had descended upon the plains of earth; setting foot upon these lands as harbinger of his ilk's demise.
When no immediate consequences followed this disruption of reality almost two years back, Muzan had grown restless. Perhaps, though, he was mistaken with his original assumption and there was no actual threat that loomed over him.
That was not the case, how he came to realize. Something had unleashed. A power so great he felt it tingling under his skin, calling upon him.
There was no questioning anymore that the painting in front of him had captured a fate yet to come. One of Muzan's downfall and one he would defy with all his might.
There now wandered someone in this realm who harbored the power to defeat him, and Muzan saw only two possibilities to see it extinguished.
"Nakime," The demon called out, not letting his irritation taint his voice even in the slightest.
