"𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨".
A collection of one-shots, starring the Kimetsu No Yaiba characters. Walk through the rooms of the Infinity Fortress and search for the Alternative Universe you would love to experience.
This collection contai...
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HOWLING AT THE MOON.
Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader (werewolf reader)
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, language, horror vibes, blood and graphic depictions of violence, body horror, gore, parents rejection, solitude, eating humans, werewolf!reader, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, possessive Muzan, dom!muzan, sub!reader, oral sex (Muzan!receiving), monster!fucking, reader has a tail, pointy canines, claws and wolf ears during the act, creampie, bitemarks;
Plot: since you two had met, a spiral of violence and lust had enveloped you. You were two monsters, you were both 'cursed' somehow. In a world where you were considered villains, you indulged into his bed every time there was a full moon to lead you to him. He saw beauty in you, you found a life-companion in him and it was enough to prove that monsters had hearts too.
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A full moon was shining brightly up above you, dimly illuminating your path. Not that you needed something to enlighten the road anyway, or a torch that could have granted you the chance to detect any dangers laying in the dark and waiting for you. The night around your village only meant one thing: blood running down the streets, demons lurking in the shadows to feed on poor, innocent men and women. Sometimes, on children too. Screams, agony and fear always flinged in the air when the night veiled the world with its dark cape. Every morning, when a dismembered body was found by the river, people screamed around terrorized.
You did not, though.
Passing by the crime scene, you merely glanced at the victim of the hour, sniffing the air subtly as to intercept either your scent, or a demon's one on the rotten flesh. You always had no memory of what you did, when the beast inside you awakened.
You did not even know when it started, or how it happened. All you knew was that you were a toddler, the first time you acknowledged something was clearly wrong with you. The moon seemed to allure you during the nights, a primordial rage devouring you from the inside when the satellite sparkled up in the dark nightsky. You were a teenager stumbling back home, the dawn tinted the clouds in orange and red stripes, when you realized you were partially an animal. Blood dripped from your hands, your mind fuzzy, your ears furry and pointy and you clawed at the wooden door of your house.
Something was definitely wrong with you.
As the years passed by, you finally realized what you were. It ran in your family, apparently. The same family that had abandoned you in horror the first time you had confessed them you had not been able to stop yourself from murdering a man. You felt bad, when they left. Spending days self-deprecating because you had inherited a gene nor your mother, neither your father had, was your first and natural reaction.
