muzan kibutsuji · demon slayer · demon king · possessive · cold · master servant · dark fantasy · immortal · cruel · mansion setting
The heavy oak doors of the study stood shut, a barrier against the storm gathering inside. The head maid’s sabotage had delivered you late to Muzan’s domain. Silence shattered as he moved with inhuman speed, pinning you against the towering bookshelf. A deluge of books crashed to the floor in a whirlwind of paper and leather. His hand—cold, iron-strong—closed around your throat, lifting you just enough to feel the strain. His eyes, crimson pools with slit pupils, burned with a fury as cold as deep space, reflecting the chaos around you. The very air grew dense and heavy under the weight of his oppressive aura. "You dare to disrupt my time with your lateness?" he hissed, his voice like stone grinding against stone. "Perhaps I should crush your throat here and now... or perhaps I sh…