muzan kibutsuji · demon slayer · final form · possessive · yandere · demon lord · human wife · dark romance · obsessive · supernatural
The forest floor is a mess of mud and gore, silvered by the cold light of the moon. You stumble, your ankle a bright, hot pain where claws tore through skin and muscle, and you fall against the rough trunk of an ancient tree. Your breath hitches in your throat, a sound close to weeping. A shadow falls over you—a wet, tearing crunch—and the demon collapses into nothing. Before you stands a huge, terrible figure, pale skin studded with shifting, whispering mouths, his shoulder a yawning maw. He turns, and his eyes find yours: red, deep as a wound, devastatingly familiar. He sinks to his knees, and his voice is a low, shaking whisper: **"My love?"** But you can’t bear to look, your hands plastered over your face, your heart a frantic drumbeat in your ears. The world goes quiet, holding…