TOKYO

𝘀𝗵𝗲 / 𝗵𝗲𝗿 ♥︎ 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖺 ♥︎ wattpad; -0RGANISM

[artemiszy]

Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer

Love me for all eternity | Douma

There is no happiness | Kokushibo

To the last moment | Kagaya Ubuyashiki

Pretty things | Gyutaro

Shuumatsu no Valkyrie | Record of Ragnarok

When the seasons change | Hades

The wrath of the sea | Poseidon

Only you, darling, only you, babe | Apollo

[artemiszy]

Hello,will there be more Ror stories🥹? They're all amazing!🤤♥️✨💫

It will depend on my creativity, but I do intend to do more! ❤

[artemiszy]

Hey, you've been gone for a long time. Is there something wrong?

Sorry, I ended up taking a break from Tumblr to take care of other things, but I ended up overdoing it 😭

[artemiszy]

I ADORE ur stories of poseidon and Hades x Reader, u portray them and mixing them with actual myths is just ieiejwjwiqiwn!! Can I request an Apollo x either Daphne!reader or Hyacinthus!Reader (if that's okay of course!)

ONLY YOU, DARLING, ONLY YOU, BABE | Apollo X Reader

Apollo x Daphne!Reader | Record of Ragnarok

"In which no matter how much time passes, the sun god will never forget how much he loved her."

WARNING. idiots in love, modifications to the original myth, angst. FEMALE READER

First of all, I wanted to apologize profusely for disappearing. I've been focused on personal matters and have given more attention to my fanfics on other platforms, and ended up neglecting Tumblr too much. Although this ask was sent several months ago, I apologize again for only seeing it now. I will try to be more frequent and not disappear for another year.

First, it was just a faint glow, like the reflection of the rising sun on the calm sea. Then, it intensified, becoming almost blinding, forcing even the gods to half-close their eyes as they anxiously awaited the appearance of something unquestionably superior.

And then, he appeared.

Apollo, the God of the Sun, crossed the portal of light with slow steps as if time bent to his will. He walked as one who possessed the stage of the entire universe. The gods in the stands greeted him with acclamations, and the nymphs let out passionate cries, but Apollo did not look at any of them, although he signaled that he was listening with both hands over his ears. His eyes were fixed on the center of the arena, where Leonidas, his opponent, also appeared too. His smile was perfect and radiant, which provoked more cries from the nymphs.

But, the instant his feet took another step on the arena floor, something changed.

A subtle aroma reminiscent of green leaves, damp earth, and freshly picked laurel filled his nostrils like an unwanted—or perhaps desired—memory. His steps faltered for a fraction of a second, almost imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him intimately. His eyes widened slightly, and behind the mask of absolute confidence, something stirred.

(Name).

The name echoed within him like a dissonant note in his symphony of perfection. The girl who had seen him when he was still just a mediocre god, sweating in the hills, missing arrow after arrow, punch after punch, until he conquered each title with his own hands. The girl who had known him before the light, before the glory. The girl who had laughed with him, who had challenged him, who had loved him—and whom he still loved, with an intensity that no eon could erase.

(Name) remained a shadow of his eternal existence, a haunting presence that never fully revealed itself, an emptiness in the form of a memory he carried beneath his golden crown.

Apollo blinked once slowly, as if banishing a ghost. The smile returned to his face, brighter than before. He raised his arms in a grand salute to the crowd, turning his body in a dramatic pose that made the light dance around him. The applause erupted again, more intense. He continued to walk to the center of the arena. His chest rose in a deep breath, absorbing the expectations of everyone around him, converting them into power.

Apollo finally stopped before Leonidas, raised his chin, his pink hair fluttering slightly.

He was ready.

The ninth round of Ragnarok could begin.

The hills echoed with the rhythmic sound of muffled impacts, as if the earth itself were being shaped by an insistent force. The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the landscape, tinging the stones with a scorching gold and making the air tremble with heat. There, in a small valley surrounded by trees and thorny bushes, Apollo trained.

In those immortal days, he was just Apollo, a young, mediocre god, lost in the shadow of the great figures of the Greek pantheon. His titles did not exist, and glory was a distant promise, forged in the sweat and frustration that now streamed down his face.

His pink hair was disheveled and clung to his skin with perspiration, swaying with every movement. He wore a simple tunic, stained with dust and clay. His muscles, though defined by divine heritage, still lacked the precision and strength that would come with tireless effort.

Apollo was punching an olive tree trunk that had been dead since before he arrived, which he had improvised as a training bag. His bare fists collided with the hard bark, sending splinters flying through the air. Each blow was an echo of his inner rage, as if he were striking not only the wood, but his own limitations.

— "Why am I like this?" — He murmured through clenched teeth, sweat dripping from his chin and forming puddles on the dry earth.

He felt small, insignificant. The other gods were born with gifts that seemed innate, as if destiny had blessed them from the cradle. But Apollo? He was ordinary, a god without any special brilliance, forced to conquer every crumb of power through arduous training.

Mediocre, the word echoed in his mind, a self-imposed prophecy that tormented him. He hated it, hated the weakness he saw in himself, the reflection in the nearby stream that showed a handsome face, yes, but empty of true greatness. As he punched harder, the trunk creaked in protest, but did not yield, just as his doubts did not yield.

The pain in his knuckles was welcome; it reminded him that effort molded the soul. Apollo paused for a moment, panting, flexing his reddened hands. Meanwhile, he was just an aspiring athlete training alone in the hills, far from the eyes of the Great Ones of Olympus.

The solitude weighed heavily on him; there was no audience to applaud him, o one to witness his transformation.

"I will know myself." he promised himself. "I will know my weaknesses and transform them into strengths." Another punch, stronger, and a thin crack appeared in the bark of the trunk. A small triumph, but enough to ignite a spark of pride in his chest.

Eventually Apollo had to force himself to pause more often. He wiped the sweat from his eyes, which shone with a fierce determination mixed with a subtle melancholy. He loved beauty—his own, and that of the world around him—but hated how superficial it seemed without the fire of effort. Each day of training was a battle against complacency, against the good fortune that the lazy gods accepted. Apollo would not be like that; he would burn his soul to become supreme. But, deep down, he longed for something more, someone who saw beyond the surface, who understood the inner struggle that consumed him.

It was in this moment of pause that he heard the subtle rustling. It wasn't the wind; It was something alive and graceful, like the whisper of leaves in a distant stream. Apollo raised his head, his senses sharpened by training, and spotted a figure emerging from the shadows of the nearby trees.

A nymph? She walked lightly barefoot, her (h/c) hair waving like wild vines, intertwined with green leaves that seemed part of her. Her (e/c) eyes, deep as the depths of a forest, fixed on him with curiosity, not flattery.

The impact was immediate.

Apollo felt a tightness in his chest, as if an arrow or a punch had pierced him—not from pain, but from something new and vibrant. His heart, immortal and usually calm, quickened slightly.

Who was she? Why did her presence make him feel exposed, as if she could see through his facade of effort?

He stopped punching the trunk, his hands falling to his sides, and for the first time in hours, the valley was silent. Her beauty wasn't divine, polished like Aphrodite's; it was natural and wild, like a flower that blooms without permission, defying the sun it would one day control. She was dressed in a white chiton, slightly damp fabrics, as if she had just emerged from a river, moving gracefully among the trees until she reached him.

— "You strike that trunk as if it were your greatest enemy." — She said, her voice soft as the murmur of a stream, but with a hint of amusement that cut through the tense air.

It wasn't a criticism; it was an observation, honest and disarming. Apollo blinked, surprised—no one approached him like that. He straightened his posture, wiping his hands on his tunic, feeling a subtle blush rise to his face, something rare for a vain god like him.

— "And if it is?" — He retorted, trying to sound confident, but his voice came out softer than intended.

Internally, a storm raged—curiosity mixed with attraction, a feeling that she was seeing the real "him", the mediocre man struggling to rise.

She smiled, drawing closer, her feet leaving light impressions on the earth. — “Or maybe it’s yourself you’re trying to bring down.”

The words hit him like a precise punch, straight to the core of his self-awareness. Apollo felt a shiver run down his spine. Who was this nymph who could decipher his soul with a glance? He observed her more closely—the soft curve of her lips, the glint in her eyes reflecting the sunlight, the relaxed posture that contrasted with her constant tension.

For the first time, his obsession with beauty turned to another person, not as a mirror, but as an inspiration.

— “I… I am Apollo.”

The nymph tilted her head slightly to the side. — “I know who you are, you’re the god who’s been training around here lately.” — Their eyes met, and she smiled, making Apollo swallow hard. — “I am (Name).”

The nymph took another step forward, now so close that Apollo could feel the freshness emanating from her—an aroma of freshly flowed river, wet leaves, and something sweet like honeysuckle warmed by the sun. The white chiton clung lightly to her still-damp body, outlining soft, natural curves, but she didn't seem to mind; in fact, she even seemed amused by the way his eyes, for a brief moment, betrayed his surprise.

— "(Name)…" — Apollo repeated, the name escaping his lips as if he were testing the weight of a new arrow. He tried to regain his composure, raising an eyebrow with that air of superiority that was already his by nature, even though he was still so raw. — "A naiad, I suppose? It's not every day someone interrupts my training."

She laughed, an open, crystalline laugh that echoed through the trees like birds taking flight. No restrained giggles or downcast glances; It was the sound of someone who feared neither gods nor their vanities.

— "These hills have been mine longer than you've been training on them. I'm the one who should be charging admission." — (Name) crossed her arms in a relaxed, almost defiant way.

Apollo winked, unarmed. No one spoke to him like that. Not the other young gods, who treated him with distance, nor the nymphs who occasionally crossed his path and quickly lowered their eyes, enchanted by his divine beauty. But (Name) looked him in the eye as an equal, with a mischievous glint in her eyes (e/c).

He exhaled through his nose, a half-smile appearing.

— "Fair enough." — He conceded, raising his bruised hands in surrender. — "Then consider me an unwelcome guest. But since you're here… what do you think of my opponent?" — He pointed with his chin to the cracked trunk, trying to regain some control of the conversation.

(Name) approached the trunk unceremoniously, running her delicate fingers along the chipped bark. Her bare feet stepped exactly where his had been, as if measuring something.

— "Strong enough to hold you off until now." — She commented, turning to him with a sideways smile. — “But you’re hitting wrong. Look here.” — Without asking permission, she took his right hand, raising it to the sunlight.

Apollo froze for a second at the touch; her fingers were soft and firm, without hesitation. She turned his palm over, examining the reddened calluses and small cuts.

— “You’re punching with anger. Do you see how the knuckles of your fingers are all bruised on the same side? That means you’re twisting your fist at the last instant. Wasted anger.”

Apollo stared at her, stunned. It wasn’t empty criticism; it was precise, as if she truly understood what he was trying to build there.

— “And you… do you understand boxing?” — He asked, his voice lower than he intended, still feeling the warmth of her touch on his skin.

(Name) released his hand, but didn’t back down. Instead, he took an even closer step, close enough for him to see the droplets of water glistening on her collarbones.

— "I understand fighting." — She replied bluntly. — "Trees fight every day against the wind, against fire, against axes. I see it. And I see you here, every day, from sunrise to sunset. Alone, striking, missing arrows, cursing softly when you think no one is listening." — She smiled again, but this time there was something softer in her gaze. — "It's not easy, is it? Wanting to be more than you were born to be."

The words hit him hard. Apollo felt his chest tighten again, he lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked back at her, the mask of vanity cracking a little more.

— "It's not easy..." — He admitted, his voice hoarse with accumulated fatigue. — "Everyone up there was born with something. I… I have to pull mine out of thin air."

(Name) nodded, as if she'd known this for ages.

— "Then let me help you." — She said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She positioned herself beside the tree trunk, raising her clenched fists in a playful but correct gesture. — "Show me how you punch. And I'll show you how to make this trunk beg for mercy without destroying your hands in the process."

Apollo looked at her for a long second. The sun shone on her (h/c) hair, creating a natural halo, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone in the valley.

— "Alright, (Name)." — A genuine smile finally breaking through his expression. — "But if I hit it right, you'll have to applaud me."

She laughed again, throwing her head back. — "Okay. But if you keep hitting it wrong, I'll be the one booing you. And the nymph's jeering echoes far away, Apollo. Far away."

Under the blazing sun of the hills, the mediocre god and the daring nymph began something neither of them yet knew how to name.

What had started as a casual encounter in the valley had evolved into something deeper, as if (Name) had become the air Apollo breathed, the sun he still aspired to have under his dominion. It wasn't a love fabricated by the whims of the gods, one full of intrigue and illusions; it was pure and genuine, born from shared sweat and exposed weaknesses.

In the beginning, it was just the training, those raw moments where (Name) arrived at dawn, the dew still fresh on her leaves intertwined in her hair (h/c), a provocative smile illuminating her face like the first ray of light. She helped him refine his punches against the dead trunks, correcting his posture with firm touches, her fingers tracing the line of his shoulders or adjusting the angle of his fist. She told him he was overexerting himself in certain areas, that he should loosen up and feel the flow.

He responded dramatically, raising his hands in feigned offense at how she dared question a rising god, but internally, he laughed at himself, that initial spark of attraction spreading like wildfire, hot and uncontrollable.

Love had sprouted subtly, like a seed planted without fanfare, a slow growth rooted in the admiration he felt for someone who saw beyond the divine shell—not as the aspiring beauty, but as the mediocre man who struggled, day after day, to reinvent himself. She was important there from the beginning—without her, his blows would be empty, his determination a weak flame; with her, each attempt gained purpose.

Over time, the training naturally extended beyond fists and bows, as if the valley invited them to explore further. They began to wander through the surrounding forests, (Name) guiding him along hidden trails that he, despite his divine heritage, had never noticed—winding paths between trees where soft moss cushioned his steps and the air smelled of living earth.

One misty morning, she led him to a hidden stream, a trickle of crystal-clear water that meandered between mossy stones. (Name) dove in first without hesitation, her white chiton leaving her body, emerging naked with her (h/c) hair clinging to her damp face, her (e/c) eyes gleaming with pure mischief, beckoning him to join her, referring to him as the future God of the Sun while playfully asking if he was afraid of getting wet.

Apollo hesitated for a second, his vanity making him question whether he would look ridiculous, exposed like that, but her laughter—free, echoing like birdsong—drew him in. He undressed slowly, feeling the cool air against his skin, and plunged in beside her, the cold water shocking his immortal body like an awakening. They swam splashing each other like immortal children, bodies floating in the cool current, accidental touches becoming intentional like a brushing of legs, a bump of shoulders that sent shivers down his spine.

He watched her laugh, her head thrown back, the drops of water glistening on her skin like natural jewels, her breasts rising and falling with her quickened breath, and he felt a tightness in his chest. He thought about how she made him feel alive as his heart raced not from training, but from the simple joy of her company, from the way she saw him naked, without armor, and still challenged him.

As time passed, a deeper intimacy emerged, interwoven in everyday gestures that Apollo began to crave as never before, as if each day without her was an empty shell. They walked through the hills at dusk, (Name) always ahead with her nymph-like grace, her bare feet leaving light impressions on the earth, turning to tease him with a mischievous glance over her shoulder, provoking him to try to reach her or if he would simply stand there admiring the view. He followed her with a smile that grew increasingly genuine, less calculated to impress, purer in its joy.

On one of these walks, under a sky tinged with purple, they stopped in the shade of an olive tree. (Name) leaned against him, her eyes fixed on his with an intensity that disarmed him, the sweat from the walk glistening on her forehead like dew. She spoke of how much he had improved. Apollo felt pride swell in his chest, but more than that, a profound gratitude, almost painful—she saw the progress he barely admitted to himself, the weaknesses he transformed into strengths thanks to her words.

At that point, love was a flame burning in his immortal heart with an obsessive intensity, as if losing her would be the end of everything; a mixture of desire for the way her body moved, fluid and wild as the wind in the leaves, and an admiration for the daring soul that challenged him to know himself better. He found himself thinking of her during the lonely days and nights, reliving casual touches like an adjustment to his posture during training or a playful slap on the shoulder that left a lingering warmth; and he longed for more.

The closeness naturally evolved into moments of quiet, as if the world conspired to isolate them. They would sit under the emerging stars, the cool night air laden with the scent of wild jasmine, Apollo playing his first lyre—a gift from Hermes—as melodies spontaneously arose, inspired by her. His fingers danced on the strings with a passion he had never felt before, composing verses about nymphs dancing with the wind and defying vain gods, verses that actually spoke of her, of how she saved him from his own mediocrity.

(Name) listened, her head resting against his shoulder in an unconscious gesture, her eyes reflecting the brilliance of the constellations. She responded in a soft voice that it was beautiful, about how he made everything special thanks to the passion he put into it, as if his soul sang through the strings.

Her words struck him like precise arrows, fueling their love. He loved her for her audacity, for the way she mocked his mistakes with loud laughter and applauded his successes with enthusiasm. That united them, transforming Apollo's solitude into something shared, and the feeling deepened in layers—physical desire existed there, however, for the damp glow on her skin after a run, for the curve of her body when she stretched; but also a special connection.

As if she were the muse that ignited his quest for self-knowledge, the light that dispelled the darkness of his doubt. Without her, his progress would stagnate; with her, every title he aspired to—Poetry, Music, Medicine, the Sun—seemed within reach, because she taught him to see beauty in effort, not in innate perfection.

Much more time passed as the seasons turned like an eternal cycle and mortals came and went. On a golden afternoon, they returned to the stream, undressing each other under the light filtered through the leaves, laughing softly at the insecurities Apollo confessed about feeling as if she saw all his flaws, and she responding with a soft kiss on his shoulder. They swam naked again, hands exploring curves and muscles, bodies intertwined in the warm water, kisses exchanged beneath the surface. Apollo held her close, feeling her heart beat against his, and thought of how deep that love was, red as blood.

After that, (Name) taught him about medicinal herbs, gathering leaves and roots that healed divine wounds, saying that this would help him become the God of Medicine he dreamed of being, while pressing a compress to a recent cut, her soft fingers tracing his skin with a tenderness that made him tremble. Apollo held his breath in those moments, her touch sending waves of heat through his body, and he thought about how much he loved her.

In a bolder moment, under a torrential rain, a wild boar appeared, having invaded the territory—a ferocious beast with eyes as red as Apollo's love. (Name) distracted it while Apollo knocked it down with a precise punch. In the aftermath, she impulsively embraced him, her body damp with rain and exertion pressed against his, her lips meeting his in a passionate kiss, telling him he had been incredible. Apollo felt the world stop, love igniting like a blazing bonfire, uncontrollable like a flame that shone brighter than the sun. That embrace, those kisses in the rain, deepened everything—she was the essence of his progress, the muse who transformed his mediocrity into divinity, the partner who saw his soul.

"I love you, (Name)." He had thought countless times, the feeling pulsing in every beat of his immortal heart, a feeling that made him vulnerable, yet invincible.

The rain passed and the sun rose on the horizon. Apollo and (Name) lay side by side on the bank of the stream under the still-damp grass. Her (h/c) hair spread across the grass like a river of wild leaves, and her (e/c) eyes gazed at the sky with a tranquility that Apollo silently envied. He turned his face to her, tracing with his gaze every curve, every drop of water that still glistened on her smooth, soft skin, every breath that gently lifted her chest.

The silence between them was comfortable, filled only by the distant song of cicadas and the murmur of the water. (Name) lazily stretched out her hand, intertwining her fingers with his without looking, as if that gesture were already part of their shared breath. Apollo squeezed her hand harder than he intended, an almost desperate grip, like someone trying to hold back time.

He wanted it to last forever.

He wanted the sun to stop there, on the horizon, suspended between day and night, so that they would never have to rise from that bank. He wanted the seasons to cease their cycle, the trees never to lose their leaves, the stream never to dry up. He wanted the whole world to freeze in that instant—the two of them naked, without titles, without Olympus or Valhalla, without destiny. Just them. Only that peace he had never known before her and feared he would never know again.

But, deep in his immortal heart, a dark feeling pulsed like something he didn't want to hear. A premonition that wasn't divine prophecy but something more fragile, the certainty that nothing like this lasted. That loves like that—pure, wild, born of effort and vulnerability—were exactly the ones the gods most liked to break.

Apollo turned his body to the side, propping himself up on his elbow to observe her better. (Name) smiled, without opening her eyes.

— "What is it?" — She murmured.

— "Nothing." — He lied softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her lips. — "Just… stay here with me a little longer."

She opened her eyes then, those (e/c) eyes that truly saw him, and smiled in a way that made his heart ache.

— "I'm here, Apollo. I'll always be here."

He wanted to believe it. With all the strength of his ascending soul, he wanted to believe it. But as he kissed her slowly, tasting the river and honeysuckle in her mouth, as her hands moved up his back as if wanting to etch him into her memory, Apollo felt the red of that love deepen even more—not just passion, but fear.

Fear that one day the sun would rise and she wouldn't be there.

Fear that the valley would be empty.

Fear that everything he was becoming had been built upon something that fate had already decided to take from him.

He hugged her tighter, like someone trying to hold back the wind.

He wanted it to last forever.

But, in the silence that followed, with the sky slowly darkening and the first stars appearing, Apollo knew—with a pain that had no name yet—that forever was not a word the gods allowed for loves like theirs.

Oh, how he wanted it to have lasted forever.

Olympus rose as the gods gathered in the Great Hall. It was a day of ascension, and Apollo, the once mediocre aspirant, now stood at the center of the circle of golden thrones. His now long, pink hair fell in perfect waves over his shoulders. His toga, now adorned with solar jewels that captured and reflected the light, opened at the chest, revealing a body sculpted by eons of tireless effort. He wasn't born this way; he had earned every muscle, every title, with sweat and determination.

Zeus, the King of the Gods, his father, raised his arm to officially proclaim him one of the Twelve–God of the Sun, of Prophecy, of Music, of Medicine, of Archery, of Poetry, of Boxing—Apollo felt the weight of the journey echo in his mind. But, amidst the glory, his thoughts didn't dwell on his own beauty or the adulation of the surrounding gods. No; they revolved around her. The only one who had seen him when he was nothing, the only one who had propelled him to become everything.

As the divine crowd applauded, Apollo relived fragments of his ascension, each intertwined with her presence. She had taught him to recognize his weaknesses, to transform them into strengths; thinking about this made his immortal heart beat with an intensity that no divine title could match. The only one who saw him sweat, fail, and yet loved him for his effort, not for his glory. The only one who made him feel that true beauty lies not in innate perfection, but in the fire that burns within. He saw her as the complementary light to his sun.

As Zeus placed the final seal on his ascension, declaring. — "Apollo, Phoebus, the Brilliant, take your place among the Twelve."

Apollo bowed his head in gratitude, but his mind was already planning the future. (Name) would be his wife, he decided, with a certainty without haste or imposition. It was not a selfish conquest; it was a desire to share eternity with the only one who understood him.

The applause echoed, and Apollo raised his arms in a grandiose pose and smiled at the crowd. The ceremony ended, and Apollo descended the steps of the hall, his chest swelling with triumphant pride. The gods congratulated him, but it was there, in the gardens adjacent to the hall, that he encountered someone.

Eros leaned against a column, bow in hand, arrows gleaming in the setting sun.

The God of Love, with his curly hair and mischievous eyes, played with an arrow, casually shooting it at a distant target not with the precision of a warrior, but with the capricious grace of desire.

Still euphoric from his ascension, Apollo approached with a superior smile. — "Ah, Eros. Still playing with toys while the true gods conquer Olympus?"

His voice was light, but laden with a subtle mockery now amplified by the recent glory that made him underestimate the power of love as mere play. He had thought of (Name) at that moment, his love for her so profound that, ironically, it blinded him to the dominion of Eros.

The little god stopped spinning the arrow, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint, like the reflection of a blade under the light. He straightened slowly, his wings trembling slightly, a subtle sign of irritation that Apollo, immersed in his thoughts, didn't immediately notice.

— "My bow shapes destinies, Apollo. Your sun may illuminate the world, but without love, it's just empty heat. How many mortals and gods have fallen because of one of my arrows? And you, with your 'conquered beauty', think you're above that?"

Apollo laughed, a dramatic laugh that echoed through the gardens. — "I conquered mine with effort, not with arrows. Save your arrows for foolish mortals or lazy gods... I have the only one that matters, the one that completed me without artifice."

But Eros, now standing, slowly raised his bow, fitting an arrow with an audible click that echoed through the gardens like a warning. His mischievous eyes now burned with genuine offense—the God of Love did not tolerate being diminished, especially by someone who had just ascended.

— “Then prove it, God of the Sun.” — Hissed Eros, his voice low and venomous. — “You speak of love, but mock the power that creates it. Your effort is laudable, but without desire, without the spark I ignite, you would still be a lonely god pounding empty tree trunks. Perhaps I'll show you what it's like to be consumed by a passion you can't control."

The valley was bathed in the soft light of the late afternoon, the sun—now officially his domain—hanging low on the horizon like a golden crown Apollo wore with newly acquired pride. He descended from Olympus with his immortal heart beating to a rhythm he only knew when he thought of her. (Name), the one and only. The idea of ​​telling her everything—the ascension, the titles, the place among the Twelve—made his chest swell with pure joy, without vanity, only gratitude. He imagined her smile, her (e/c) eyes shining like dew-kissed leaves, her (h/c) hair dancing in the wind as she embraced him and said, with that boldness only she possessed, that she always knew he would get there.

He found her exactly where he expected, on the bank of the stream, sitting on a smooth stone, her bare feet immersed in the flowing water, her white chiton clinging slightly to her body from the dampness. She hummed a melody softly, something he himself had composed on nights past, when he played the lyre just for her. Hearing his footsteps, (Name) lifted her face, and the smile that spread across her face was as radiant as the sun that now belonged to her.

— "Apollo!" — She called, leaping to her feet, water splashing around her ankles. — "You look different. Shining brighter than usual."

He laughed, a genuine, open laugh, and ran the last few steps to embrace her. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, her body fitting into his as it always had—like roots intertwining effortlessly. He inhaled the scent of river, honeysuckle, and damp earth that was uniquely hers, and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the whole world shrink into that embrace.

— “I am… everything I dreamed of being.” — He murmured against her (h/c) hair. — “The Twelve.”

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands rising to cup his face. Her thumbs traced the lines of his cheekbones, as if to confirm that it was real.

— “I know.” — She said in a soft voice. — “I always knew. You were never mediocre, Apollo. You just needed to believe in the fire that already burned within you.”

He felt his chest tighten in a sweet, almost painful way. That was his love for her, a gratitude so profound. (Name) wasn't a trophy, nor a distant muse; she was a partner, a mirror, and a flame. The only one who had seen him doubt and yet still chosen him every day.

— “You were that fire.” — He confessed, leaning his forehead against hers. — “Without you, I would still be punching tree trunks alone, lost in my own vanity. You taught me what true beauty is... knowing yourself, changing, growing. You made me who I am."

(Name) smiled and kissed him, a slow, deep kiss, full of everything that didn't need to be said. His hands slid down her back, feeling the warm skin beneath the damp fabric, and for a long moment the world was just them, together with the sound of the stream, the distant birdsong, and the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

They sat on the bank and Apollo told her everything, and (Name) listened attentively, her head resting on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his hand.

— "And now?" — She asked finally, her voice low. — "What does a Sun God do when he conquers everything he wanted?"

Apollo turned to her, his eyes serious.

— "Now I want you. As my wife. Not as a prize, not as a possession. As an equal. I want to spend eternity with the only person who saw me whole... weaknesses, vanity, effort, everything. I want to wake up every day by your side, compose songs that only you will hear, sculpt art for you. You are the only one, (Name). You always have been and always will be. So... will you marry me?"

She slowly raised her face, her lips parted in a smile that hadn't yet fully formed. Those (e/c) eyes that he loved more than any constellation, shone with tears of emotion that balanced on her eyelids, ready to fall, but still held back. Apollo saw the "yes" forming on her lips—he saw it in the slight trembling, he saw it in the way she leaned towards him, he saw it in the warmth that still emanated from her skin. He was ready to take her with him to Delos, to the sacred islands, to Olympus if she wanted. He just needed to hear those words. He just needed her to say "yes" and everything would be complete.

— "Apollo…" — She began in a low voice, full of a tenderness that made his heart swell almost to the point of aching. — "I…"

But then, suddenly, something changed.

It was subtle at first. A tiny tremor in the lips that were about to smile. An almost invisible furrow in the brow. The eyes (e/c) that seconds before overflowed with love now widened—not with joyful surprise, but with pure, absolute horror.

(Name) recoiled abruptly, her whole body stiffening as if his touch had turned to liquid fire. The hands that had previously held his face tenderly now rose defensively, her fingers trembling violently.

— "No…" — She whispered as if something inside her had been torn apart. — "Don't come near… please…"

Apollo froze. His immortal heart, which had pounded with happiness moments before, stopped for an instant.

— "(Name)?" — He called, his voice low and incredulous, extending his hand slowly as if she were a frightened animal. — "What happened? Did I… did I say something wrong?"

She jumped to her feet, stumbling backward, her bare feet slipping on the wet stone. Her face, which seconds before had been pure light, was now pale as ash, contorted in an expression of such visceral revulsion that Apollo felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. The eyes (e/c) he knew better than his own—eyes that challenged him, that laughed with him, that gazed at him naked with confidence—now stared at him as if he were a monster from the depths of Helheim.

— "Stay away from me!" — She screamed, her voice shrill, tearing through the silent air of the valley like a blade. — "Don't touch me! Never again!"

The words struck Apollo like poisoned arrows directly into his chest. He rose slowly, his hands raised, his whole body trembling with a terror he had never, in all his divine existence, experienced. Her horror was real. (Name), the nymph who had seen him whole—with his vanity, weaknesses, sweat, flaws, and effort—and loved him despite everything, now looked at him as if he were the most repulsive thing that had ever existed.

It was unbearable.

The idea that she, the only true light of his eternity, now rejected him with such revulsion was worse than any defeat, worse than never having conquered the Twelve. It was as if the sun he had just received as his domain had been extinguished in one fell swoop, leaving only icy, empty, and eternal darkness.

— "(Name), please…" — He pleaded in a trembling voice, broken for the first time in eons. Tears—a rare thing for a god—began to form in the corners of his eyes. — "Tell me what happened. I love you. You know I love you. We just… you were going to say yes. You were going to come with me."

She shook her head frantically, her (h/c) hair flying around her pale face and her eyes filled with tears of panic that now streamed freely.

— "I can't…" — She sobbed, her voice choked with terror. — "I can't look at you! Your face… your touch… it disgusts me! Stay away! Please, stay away!

Each word was a knife twisting in Apollo's chest. Disgust. She felt disgust for him. The only person whose proximity he most desired in the universe now felt physical revulsion for him. He felt the world spin, his stomach churn, his heart shatter into pieces that no divine title could mend.

His mind raced in despair, searching for an explanation—Spell? Illusion? Possession? And then, like an internal thunderclap, he remembered Eros's words in the gardens, the bow drawn along with the veiled threat. The leaden arrow… the arrow of repulsion… had Eros been cruel enough to strike her?

The terror turned into utter despair, a black abyss threatening to swallow him whole.

— "No…" — He murmured, his eyes wide, his face pale as marble. — "Eros… what has he done to you?!"

He stepped forward, his hands outstretched in supplication, desperate to touch her, to calm her, to bring back the (Name) who had embraced him moments before, who had laughed with him, who had kissed him as if he were the only being in the universe.

— "(Name), listen to me!" — He pleaded, his voice now hoarse with anguish. — "It's a curse! I would never hurt you! You know who I am! You know me better than I know myself! You've seen me sweat, fail, cry in frustration… and you loved me anyway! Please, fight this! I love you… I love you more than light, more than the sun, more than eternity!"

But with each step he took, she recoiled further, terror growing in the eyes he loved so much, now filled with a blind, animalistic panic.

— "Don't come near!" — She screamed again. — "I feel… I feel like I'll die if you touch me! Please… leave me alone!

She trembled violently, her arms wrapped around her body as if trying to protect herself from something terrifying. Tears streamed down her face, her chest heaving in short, desperate breaths. She didn't understand what was happening; she only knew that the man she had loved seconds before now caused her a visceral, uncontrollable horror.

And then, unable to endure another second of that proximity, she turned and ran.

Apollo stood paralyzed for a fraction of a second—his heart shattered and his world in ruins—before running after her with all the strength of a god.

— "(Name)! Wait! Please!"

She ran like the wild wind that inhabited the forests. Panic propelled her forward, blind and irrational, her heart racing and her lungs burning along with the tears. She didn't know where she was going—she only knew she needed to run, that every step he took behind her was a threat to her very existence.

Apollo followed her, his divine body moving with a speed that could easily overtake her, but terror held him back—he didn't want to frighten her further, didn't want to force closeness, didn't want to be the monster her eyes now saw. Each time he got close enough to almost touch her arm, she let out a sharp cry of terror and sped away, dodging between tree trunks with desperate grace, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear.

— "(Name)!" — He pleaded, his voice choked, hoarse, broken by sobs he no longer even tried to suppress. Tears streamed freely down his divine face. — "Come back! I love you! It's a curse! I can fix this! Please, don't run away from me! You are everything to me! Everything!"

But she didn't stop. She ran as if her life depended on it, crossing the valley, entering the dense forest, weaving between trees. Her chest ached, her legs trembled, but she couldn't stop. Not while he was behind her.

Apollo followed her, his chest burning not from physical exertion, but from an anguish that threatened to destroy him from within. The idea of ​​losing her—that the girl who completed him, who made him better, who was his true light, now saw him as a monster and fled from him forever—was worse than any defeat on Valhalla, worse than non-existence. He imagined an eternity without her eyes (e/c) boldly challenging him, without the laughter echoing in the valley, without the slow kisses, without her voice. It was a black, absolute void that he couldn't bear.

— "(Name)!" — He shouted again, his voice tearing through the forest air, full of naked despair. — "Don't leave me! You're the only one! The only one in all eternity! Please, come back to me!"

She didn't look back. She just ran, ran, and ran—blind panic guiding her steps, her heart broken with terror, pulling her away from the only true love she had ever known, while Apollo chased after her with a completely shattered heart, begging fate, the gods, the entire universe, that there was still a way to bring her back before it was too late.

She didn't understand. Seconds before, the world was perfect—Apollo, the man she loved with a depth that sometimes frightened her, had just asked her to be his wife. She was going to say yes. She was going to hug him, kiss him, accept spending eternity with him. And then, as if a dark fog had invaded her mind, everything changed.

His face, which she knew in every detail—the lines of his cheekbones, the gleam in his eyes, the narcissistic smile that hid vulnerability—became repulsive. His touch, which had once made her melt, now provoked physical nausea. The sound of his voice, which she loved to hear singing or whispering her name, now terrified her. She felt as if she would die if he touched her again.

Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision, but she kept running, her (h/c) hair plastered to her sweaty forehead, her arms pumping at her sides as if she could ward off the horror with sheer movement.

“Why?” Her mind screamed silently. “Why does he suddenly do this to me? What happened to me?”

She didn't want to run from him. She wanted to go back, she wanted to run into his arms, she wanted the world to return to what it was five minutes before. But her body wouldn't obey. Her body betrayed her, driven by a terror that wasn't hers.

— "(Name)!" — He shouted, his voice broken, desperate, unrecognizable even to himself. — "Please, stop! I won't touch you! I swear by the rivers of the Styx! Just… stop and listen to me! I conquered the Twelve for us! For you!"

Finally, after what seemed like hours of hellish pursuit, her strength completely gave out. (Name) stumbled violently on an exposed root, falling to her knees in the center of a small clearing. Her whole body trembled in uncontrollable spasms, her lungs burning as if she were inhaling fire, her hands digging into the damp earth for support. She tried to stand, but her legs gave way again. Panic still gripped her, but her nymph-like body had reached its limit.

Apollo stopped ten meters away, also falling to his knees, his face contorted in a mask of anguish. He dared not approach any closer. Seeing her like this—exhausted, terrified, destroyed because of him—was the most unbearable sight of his entire immortal existence.

— "(Name)…" — He whispered, his voice so broken he was barely recognizable. — "I… I’m here. I won’t move. Please… look at me. Fight this. It’s Eros, he did this. I was a vain fool and provoked him, and now… now you’re suffering because of me. But I’ll fix it. I swear by my own light. I’ll go to the ends of the earth, I’ll beg Zeus, I’ll face Eros… anything. Just… don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us."

She slowly raised her face and her eyes (e/c) were swollen from crying, her face pale and dirty with tears. For a brief, very brief instant, Apollo saw a flash—a fragment of the (Name) he knew, struggling to emerge from the abyss of terror. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, as if to fight.

But horror won again. Her eyes widened once more, her body convulsed in a violent tremor.

— "I can't take it anymore…" — She sobbed, her voice weak, desperate, broken into pieces. — "I don't want to feel this… I don't want to hate you… but I feel it… I feel like I'm going crazy… help me… please, someone help me…"

And then, in a gesture of utter despair, she raised her trembling arms to the sky, her whole body bent as if carrying the weight of the world.

— "Father!" — She cried. — "Peneios! Save me! Change me! Take away this form that attracts what I can no longer bear! I beg you… transform me… anything… anything so that this stops!"

And the earth responded.

A deep tremor ran through the ground, as if the Peneios River itself, her father, had heard the cry of his daughter in agony. A sudden, cold wind, heavy with the scent of deep waters and roots, blew through the clearing, making the leaves of the trees tremble in unison. The light of dusk seemed to concentrate around her, as if destiny were weaving its final verdict.

Apollo felt the air change. He felt the divine presence, ancient and irrevocable. And he understood, in the most terrifying instant of his life, what was about to happen.

— "No…" — He murmured, his face losing all color. — "No… (Name), don't do this! Wait! I can fix it! I will fix it! PLEASE!"

He leaped to his feet, running the last few meters, his hands outstretched in desperate pleading.

— "(NAME)! LOOK AT ME! FIGHT! PLEASE! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GO! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

But it was too late.

Her feet began to change first. The smooth skin of her legs and ankles hardened, turning brown and rough like young tree bark. Her toes lengthened, sinking into the fertile earth like roots, digging deep into the soil. (Name) screamed—a long, heart-rending scream, full of physical and emotional pain, a sound Apollo felt as if his own heart were being ripped out.

— "(NAME)!" — He yelled, falling to his knees again beside her, his hands hovering over the forming trunk, not daring to touch. — "NO! STOP! PLEASE, PENEIOS, DON'T TAKE HER FROM ME! I BEG YOU!"

Her legs merged completely, becoming a straight, firm trunk. Her arms rose higher, her fingers branching into delicate twigs, sprouting bright green, spear-shaped leaves. Her torso widened, the silvery bark covering the skin he had kissed so many times. Her (h/c) hair, which he loved to twirl in his fingers while she slept resting on his shoulder, blended into the canopy, becoming undulating foliage that trembled in the wind as if still weeping.

Her face—the last to change—contorted in a final expression of anguish, her (e/c) eyes fixed on his for an eternal second with a farewell she didn't want to give. Then the bark rose, covering the features he knew by heart, transforming them into wood.

Apollo embraced the trunk with desperate force, his face pressed against the still-warm bark from the transformation, feeling the last vestige of warmth disappear beneath his fingers.

— "(Name)…" — He sobbed, his voice completely broken, his body convulsing with cries that came from the depths of his immortal soul. — "No… no… come back… please, come back to me… I can’t take it… I can’t take it without you…"

He fell sideways onto the earth, his arms still wrapped around the trunk of the newborn laurel tree, his face buried in the roots that were now her feet. He wept as no god had ever wept—deep sobs that shook his entire body, tears soaking the earth around him. The despair was absolute and utterly overwhelming, a pain that transcended anything physical. He, who had conquered the sun, who had mastered light and prophecy, was now destroyed, reduced to nothing, because the only person who gave meaning to his existence had been torn from him forever.

— "You were everything…" — He whispered against the bark, his voice almost inaudible between sobs. — "My light… my flame… my only one… I love you… I love you so much it hurts more than anything… forgive me… please forgive me for being vain… for provoking Eros… for causing this…"

The wind blew softly through the new laurel leaves, a sound that seemed like a distant whisper, almost a sigh. Apollo slowly raised his face, his eyes swollen and red, and with trembling hands gathered a crown of the still tender leaves, then remained there, embracing the trunk, weeping in the darkness that fell over the clearing, until night covered everything.

The Sun God, who should have illuminated the world, was now enveloped in darkness deeper than any night, embracing the trunk of the first laurel tree, weeping for the only one fate had stolen from him forever.

The ninth round ended with Apollo standing.

Now his body was supported by Python, who carried him to recover. His face, once an immaculate symbol of divine beauty, now bore a fresh, jagged scar right in the center, still bleeding. He still felt a sharp pang of physical pain, but it was nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to the pain he had carried for millennia, a wound that no nectar could heal, no victory could soothe.

Not a single day had passed, in all the eons since that fateful clearing, that Apollo hadn't thought of (Name).

As Python carried him, his mind returned, as it always did, to those final moments. To her desperate cry calling for her father, to the bark rising from the skin he had kissed so many times, the warmth fading beneath his desperate fingers.

He remembered, with a clarity that tortured him, how he had gone completely mad after the transformation. Artemis, his twin sister, had found him days later still embracing the tree trunk, his nails digging into the bark until it bled, still screaming her name until his voice failed him. Other gods had tried to calm him, but none had succeeded. Apollo had hated Eros with an intensity that burned hotter than the very sun he commanded—a blind and voracious hatred that had lasted for centuries, only appeased when the other gods, fearing he would destroy half of Olympus in an incandescent revenge, intervened with solemn oaths, veiled threats, and finally, the temporary exile of the God of Love, despite Aphrodite's protests.

In the millennia that followed, Apollo had tried, in every possible way, to fill the void (Name) had left. Nymphs came in droves—beautiful, graceful, ethereal, some even as daring as she had been. He lay with them, kissed their lips that smiled at him with adulation, touched bodies that offered themselves with desire, heard whispers of love.

But none—none of them—came even close to touching the wound, much less healing it.

Their eyes lacked (Name)'s wild and honest challenge. Their laughter didn't echo with the same freedom, the same tender provocation. Their touches didn't heal like hers, didn't make his soul burn with that perfect mixture of admiration and vulnerability. Every time he closed his eyes during an embrace, it was her face he saw; every time a nymph spoke his name in ecstasy, it was her voice he longed to hear. All were faded figures of a light that had been extinguished forever, leaving him in a darkness that no sun could completely dispel.

The laurel leaves he wore in his hair, even now, wounded and exhausted after the battle, were not a mortal replica or a divine imitation. These were the very same leaves he had plucked from the original laurel tree—the one she had become, preserved forever. Each leaf was a piece of her. Each leaf was a reminder that he had failed to protect her, that his vain pride had cost him his own love.

Over time, their story—or rather, a distorted version of it—spread among mortals like a poetic and tragic myth. They told it around campfires, in theaters, in temples, about the nymph pursued by the god Apollo, fleeing his burning desire until she begged the river father to transform her into a laurel tree.

Mortals, in their simplicity, now called her "Daphne", her true name had been lost to time. But what pained Apollo most was what had been erased—the most beautiful part, the true part. The bards and poets had omitted their mutual love. In their versions, he was merely the vain pursuer, struck by Eros's golden arrow, while she had already suffered the repulsion of the leaden arrow from the beginning.

Their profound love and partnership were lost in the mists of time, reduced to a moral lesson about unrequited desire. Apollo heard these stories echoing in the temples dedicated to him and felt his chest tighten even more—mortals honored his victory with laurel wreaths, unaware that each leaf was a dagger in his soul.

As Python carefully laid him on a bed, Apollo closed his eyes and let his mind wander to where it always wandered—to her.

“What would you think of all this, (Name)?” He thought, his inner voice as weary as his broken body, burdened with a longing that never diminished. “This tournament… gods fighting against humans… me here, bleeding in the arena like a common gladiator, having to prove my worth with blood, sweat, and scars that I choose to keep… you would laugh at me, wouldn’t you? You would say, with that audacity that only you had, that my vanity finally put me in the right place, forced to sweat for real, like in the old days when I punched tree trunks alone and you would show up to correct me. You would applaud my most precise blows and boo my mistakes, you would clap when I hit the target. You would say that I still swing my fist the wrong way when I’m too angry.”

A solitary tear trickled down the corner of his eye, mingling with the dried blood on the new scar that crossed his face.

“You would find Leonidas beautiful, wouldn’t you? For his soul ablaze until his last breath, for his effort that fears no death. You always saw beauty where I, blinded by vanity, was slow to see. And I fought thinking of you the whole time, every time I rose after falling to the cracked ground… it was to prove that the man you loved still exists somewhere within this vain god. That I am still worthy, even if only slightly, of the love you gave me before everything crumbled because of me.”

For a brief moment, while physical pain throbbed in his shattered body and the exhaustion of battle enveloped him like a heavy cloak, Apollo allowed a treacherous, cold, and seductive thought to cross his mind.

“If I had lost… if Leonidas had brought me down once and for all… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

To cease to exist. To fade away like a flame in a strong wind. The only true way to silence, once and for all, the pain that had haunted him since that clearing. No longer to wake up to the echo of her scream in his ears. No longer to look at a laurel tree and see the face he had lost. No longer to carry the crushing weight of an eternity without the only true love he had ever known. Nothingness would be relief—an emptiness without memories, without regret, and above all without the pain of longing.

But the thought passed as quickly as it came, leaving only a bitter void and renewed guilt. Because even that—even nothingness—would be cowardice. It would be abandoning the only thing that still bound him to her, the stubborn and fragile, almost childlike hope that one day, somehow, there could be redemption.

Python walked away silently, leaving him alone in the room. Apollo opened his eyes slowly, looking at the translucent ceiling as if he could see through it.

“If you still exist there, (Name)… if any piece of your soul, of your wild and daring essence, remains trapped in these leaves, in these deep roots… I will continue.”

He brought his trembling hand to the laurel wreath, touching the leaves as if they were her skin, still warm from the sun they shared.

“I will continue fighting… in eternal life. I will continue carrying this pain as a burden I deserve. I will continue wearing your leaves as a crown, even if they remind me every day of what I lost because of my foolish vanity. Because if there is the slightest chance, the slightest, however impossible it may seem, that one day you will forgive me, that one day I might deserve again the love you gave me so freely… I will wait. An eternity and another. As many as necessary. I will persist until time itself bends, until fate tires of punishing us.”

Apollo closed his eyes again, a final tear running down his temple.

“I love you, (Name). Still and always. More than the day you ran away from me. More than the day you changed. And if you're still there, somewhere among the roots and the leaves… wait for me. I will find a way to bring you back. Or at least… to deserve that you look at me again without horror, with the same love I never stopped feeling.”

The Sun God, wounded in body and eternally wounded in soul, fell asleep in bed carrying in his chest a pain that no title could erase, waiting for the day when fate, perhaps, would take pity and return his beloved to his arms.

This ended up being longer than I expected; I guess I got carried away. Anyway, I hope my writing has improved since the last time I posted something.

[artemiszy]

I read your Hades x Persephone reader story when the seasons changed, and I loved it. Is it okay to request a story about Poseidon and Amphitrite reader? If it's okay with you?

THE WRATH OF THE SEA | Poseidon X Reader

Poseidon x Amphitrite!Reader | Record of Ragnarok

"In which the fearsome sea god is furious, and perhaps a wife can give him some peace."

WARNING. poseidon being himself(a little shit). forced relationship. FEMALE READER

The waters, normally an extension of Poseidon's serene power, were now in constant turmoil. High, violent waves crashed against the shores, dragging away boats and leaving the skies covered in dark, threatening clouds. Fishermen were afraid to venture out to sea, and the usually peaceful sea creatures were restless, as if sensing the anger emanating from the depths.

Poseidon, the God of the Sea, rarely showed his emotions so openly, but in recent days, even the other gods had begun to realize that something was terribly wrong. Deep in the ocean, his palace of coral and precious stones was shrouded in a heavy atmosphere. Marine guardians and servants moved silently, fearful of disturbing their lord. Poseidon himself remained on his throne, his eyes fixed on a distant point, as if searching for something that even he could not define.

In the great hall of the Council of Valhalla, where the gods gathered to discuss the fate of the world, the tension was palpable. The thrones were occupied by the powerful deities, but there was a notable emptiness; Poseidon's place was unoccupied. He, who should have been present to discuss the matters affecting his domain, had isolated himself, absent both in body and spirit.

— "There is something wrong with the seas." — One of the gods began as the others murmured throughout the vast hall. — "Poseidon is not at peace, and his unrest is affecting our entire domain."

— "And what should we do?" — Another god questioned. — "We cannot allow the outburst of a single enraged god to cause irreparable damage."

— "Then let us send someone to confront him!" — Proposed another god with a determination that bordered on enthusiasm, perhaps a god of war, be it Ares or from another pantheon. — "Perhaps some powerful creature, a titan, or even an army of monsters or gods. That should calm him down."

Before another god could answer, two black ravens, Hugin and Munin, Odin's messengers, flew into the hall, landing on the arm of their master's throne. Odin, the father of all, tilted his head slightly, as if he were hearing a whisper that only he could understand, his wise eyes turned to Zeus.

Zeus, the king of the gods, held his hand up signaling for everyone to be silent, then the old-looking god put his hands behind his back and began to laugh a few short times.

— "Brute force will not solve this problem." — Zeus informed, in the center where his throne was. — "What my brother needs is something more... delicate. Poseidon has always been lonely, even among us. He needs someone who can bring balance, calm the chaos that is in his soul." — And then he announced it to everyone as if it were a simple and obvious solution. — "My brother must marry."

Zeus's suggestion hung in the air like a bolt of lightning about to strike. There was a murmur among the gods, who exchanged uncertain glances. The idea of ​​Poseidon, the ruthless and secretive tyrant of the seas, marrying was almost inconceivable. However, the circumstances called for extraordinary measures, and everyone there knew it.

And who, among the many deities, nymphs, and other beings, would be capable of assuming such a role?

Odin, the wise father of all, who had remained silent until then, nodded slowly, his long beard swaying slightly.

— "Balance is the key to avoiding chaos." — Odin said, his deep voice filled with ancient wisdom, silencing everyone else with only his powerful aura. — "A marriage could provide that balance. But who would be capable of uniting with Poseidon?"

The question hung in the air, with no immediate answer. The gods knew that finding a wife for Poseidon would be no easy task. The choice should be made with caution, for this union was not merely a matter of love or desire, but a necessity to preserve the order of the seas.

— "Let me handle it." — Zeus waved one of his hands in a relaxed manner. — "I know my brother very well. We will calm the seas, and he will find the peace he so seeks."

The murmurs grew in volume, but no one openly disagreed with the suggestion, although they had their doubts. The idea of ​​the merciless God of the Seas of the Greek pantheon who was capable of even terrorizing other deities, and marrying seemed like a distant idea.

Zeus turned his gaze to Poseidon's throne in the council of Valhalla, which, at all times, was empty. His brother was absent from the meeting, wrapped in his own internal storm. Zeus knew that to persuade Poseidon, it would take more than words or orders. It was a matter of making him realize that, without balance, even the most powerful could fall.

— "I will speak with him." — Zeus declared at last, banging the gavel. — "And with that, I declare the meeting closed."

In the heart of the ocean, far below the tumultuous surfaces where the storms raged, tranquility still reigned. It was there, in the depths, where the currents were gentle and the sunlight was only a distant whisper, that (Name) and her sisters, the Nereids, spent their days. (Name), the oldest and most beautiful of the sisters, was known for her kindness and grace, virtues that made her beloved among all the creatures of the sea.

On that particular day, the sea was rougher than usual, even in the depths where the Nereids usually gathered. However, (Name) and her sisters did not allow the tumult of the waters to interrupt their moment of fun. They were on a reef near the surface, where the currents brought a refreshing sensation, and the environment was perfect for their games.

— "(Name), look at that wave!" — Shouted one of the Nereids, laughing as she glided along the crest of a wave that was forming over the reef. — "It's taller than anything we've ever seen!"

(Name) smiled, her (e/c) shining with the light filtering through the water. She was about to answer when a distinct movement caught her attention. Two figures were approaching the reef, their imposing outlines quickly recognized by all the Nereids. It was Zeus, the king of the gods, accompanied by his older brother, Poseidon.

— "Look there..." — Murmured one of the Nereids, bowing slightly to them.

The Nereids, always respectful, moved away discreetly, leaving the way clear for the gods to approach. (Name), however, felt her heart accelerate unexpectedly. Poseidon, the god of the seas, was a figure that inspired fear. She only knew him from afar, from the stories told by the others, and from the austere presence he maintained over his domain. But now, he was there, in front of her, and his eyes seemed fixed on her in a way that made her stomach turn.

— "The sea is rough today, brother." — Zeus commented, his tone carrying a lightness that contrasted with the gravity of the situation. He cast a playful glance at Poseidon. — "But it seems you found something that caught your attention."

Poseidon, always austere and rigid in posture, gave Zeus a stern look, but did not respond immediately. His eyes, however, betrayed his interest. He observed (Name) with an intensity that he could not hide, even from himself. It was as if, in that moment, the rest of the world became irrelevant, and only (Name)'s graceful figure mattered.

— "She is... interesting." — Poseidon finally murmured, more to himself than to his brother.

Zeus let out a low laugh, noticing Poseidon's rare tone of voice, which almost seemed like a glimpse of vulnerability.

— "Different, yes. Maybe that's exactly what you need, brother." — Zeus said, with a mischievous smile on his lips behind his long white beard. — "Who knows, a wife to calm the seas?"

Poseidon looked at Zeus with sharp eyes, but did not argue. Instead, his thoughts began to fixate on the idea, something he had never considered before. Zeus's suggestion, although made with a playful tone, planted a seed in his mind.

Meanwhile, (Name), unaware of the conversations that were happening between the gods, went back to playing with her sisters, but the weight of Poseidon's gaze did not leave her mind. She tried to focus on the laughter and fun around her, but a part of her consciousness was alert, feeling that something was changing.

The days passed, but (Name)'s mind kept returning to that strange and silent encounter with the god of the seas. She tried not to think about it too much, but something inside her knew that that moment, that look, held more meaning than she could understand.

Until one night, when the waters were calmer and the sky shone with the starlight reflected on the surface, (Name) was alone, lost in thought. She had moved away from her sisters, seeking a moment of peace in a deeper corner of the ocean, where the currents were gentle and the rarefied light created an atmosphere of stillness.

It was in this moment of solitude that (Name) heard, in the distance, a whispered conversation that made her stop. Curious, she swam towards the source of the sound, hiding in the shadows so as not to be noticed. Her ears caught the voice of her father, Nereus, in discussion with figures she did not immediately recognize, but who seemed to exude an unfamiliar authority.

— "We will calm the seas when Poseidon is satisfied." — Said one of the voices, deep and emotionless. — "He needs a mate, someone who can calm his fury."

(Name) felt a chill run through her body. They were talking about Poseidon and his need for a wife, her mind began to connect the dots quickly, and a feeling of unease settled in her heart.

— "But who would be worthy of such a role?" — Nereus asked, with a worried tone.

Before the answer came, (Name) heard a whisper from her sisters, who were closer, but still out of sight hiding in some corner. They were talking among themselves, and the word "marriage" reached (Name)'s ears clearly, followed by her own name. She held her breath, her heart racing.

— "It can't be..." — She murmured to herself, backing away slowly, fear forming in her chest.

Without waiting for more, (Name) turned and swam as fast as she could away, the sound of her own heart drowning out any other thoughts. She didn't stop until she found a safe haven, away from the disturbing conversation, but her mind was in turmoil. Poseidon, the god of the seas, was being pressured to marry. And the looks he had given her, the whispered conversations, everything pointed to a single, terrible conclusion.

For days, (Name) tried to avoid thinking about the subject, but the idea that she might be considered for marriage to Poseidon was something she couldn't shake. She felt torn between duty and her own desire for freedom. However, before she could make any decision, her destiny caught up with her.

On a night when the full moon illuminated the waters with a pale glow, (Name) was alone, once again, near a coral reef. The environment, which would normally calm her, now seemed suffocating. She couldn't shake the thoughts of Poseidon, and what it could mean for her future.

Suddenly, the sea around her began to change, the waters, previously calm, began to swirl slowly, creating a growing whirlpool. (Name) felt a fear plant itself in her chest even before she saw the imposing figure of Poseidon emerge from the center of the current, his rigid posture and icy gaze made it clear that he was not there for trivial conversations.

— "(Name)." — His voice echoed like a raging ocean, filling around them, despite being in a calm tone. — "You will be my wife."

The statement was more of an order than a request, and Poseidon's intimidating aura made (Name)'s heart beat even faster. She instinctively backed away, fear taking over her senses.

— "I... can't..." — She shivered, trying to find words that wouldn't come. Poseidon's overwhelming presence made her feel small, insignificant.

Poseidon stepped forward, his face impassive but his eyes betraying the fury contained within him. He wasn't used to being challenged, and the idea that (Name) could refuse his proposal, or rather, his demand, seemed inconceivable to him.

— "You will be my wife." — He repeated, even more firmly, as if his will could bend reality around him.

(Name), in a panic, took one last look at the god of the seas before turning and fleeing. She swam with all her strength, her desperate movements creating a trail of bubbles behind her. Poseidon watched her escape, his eyes narrowing, and the sea around his began to churn violently, reflecting the storm brewing within his soul.

As (Name) disappeared into the darkness of the depths, Poseidon remained behind, his anger growing by the second. The seas began to roar in response.

(Name)’s escape was not just an act of desperation, but a catalyst that threw the ocean into even greater chaos. Her refusal and fear in the face of Poseidon had wounded the god’s pride, and he was not one to be challenged, least of all by someone he believed had a right to claim. While (Name) dove into the darkest depths of the ocean, seeking refuge in the vastness of the sea, Poseidon remained on the reef, his face a mask of coldness as anger bubbled within him.

The currents around the world began to go haywire, the tides became dangerously unpredictable, and the waves swept across lands with a fury that made even the gods fear the worst. In Valhalla, the Council met again, this time under much more serious circumstances.

The great hall was filled with worried murmurs. The gods were restless, aware that Poseidon's destructive power was not something that could be easily contained. Odin, sitting on his throne, watched the unfolding chaos with stern eyes. His ravens, Hugin and Munin, flew around the hall, their caws adding an even more ominous tone to the atmosphere.

— "The seas are out of control!"— Said one of the gods, his voice thick with concern. — "If this continues, there may be a catastrophe that not even we can foresee!"

Zeus, who sat on his throne in the center, remained neutral, but the way his nails scratched hard on the arms of his throne suggested that not even the king of the gods had been able to foresee this. He knew that Poseidon's wrath was as much a force of nature as a reflection of his brother's emotional state. And now, that wrath was being manifested in a way that threatened to become even more dangerous.

— "We cannot ignore this any longer." — Zeus said, his eyes darkening beneath his thick brows as he looked at the other assembled gods. — "We must find a solution, before it is too late."

Hugin landed on Odin's shoulder, his voice rough and full of knowledge.

— "Poseidon will not be appeased until he has what he desires!" — The raven said, his words echoing through the hall.

Munin, flying close behind, added in a somber tone. — "And what he desires, he believes is rightfully his!"

Odin nodded slowly, his thoughts immersed in possibilities and consequences. Poseidon's stubbornness was well known, and it was wise to recognize that forcing the god of the seas to bow to the will of the Council would not only be difficult, but potentially disastrous.

Zeus, on the other hand, was determined to resolve the situation once and for all. He knew there was only one thing that could calm his brother, the presence of (Name) by his side. But finding the Nereid, who had hidden herself in the depths, would be no easy task.

— “I will go and solve this myself.” — Zeus declared, his voice firm. — “If it is the Nereid that Poseidon desires, then we will bring her to him. But this must be done carefully. We cannot risk making the situation any worse.”

The other gods agreed. As the Council dispersed, Zeus’s thoughts were focused on one thing: finding (Name) before the sea became a destructive force beyond any control. He knew where to begin his search, for even the vast ocean could not hide its secrets from a god.

He remembered Doris, the mother of the Nereids, who had a strong bond with (Name) and knew all the secrets of the ocean. Doris was the only one who knew exactly where her daughter was hiding, and Zeus knew he could use that to his advantage.

At the bottom of the ocean, Doris was in her sea cave on the surface, worried about (Name)'s fate and the chaos that was ravaging the seas. She felt the weight of responsibility, knowing that her knowledge could either save or destroy.

It was at that moment that Zeus appeared, his imposing presence filling the narrow space of the cave, his eyes glowed yellow, but there was also a calculating coldness in his gaze.

— "Doris, I need your help." — Zeus said, his voice reverberating through the walls of the cave despite his calm tone.

Doris, although she respected the king of the gods, felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew he had not come here without a dark purpose.

— "What do you wish, Lord Zeus?" — She asked, her voice cautious.

— "You know where (Name) is hiding," — Zeus stated bluntly. — "And we need to bring her back to Poseidon before things get worse."

Doris was silent for a moment, her eyes falling to the ground. She knew that betraying her daughter's trust would mean losing her love forever, but she also knew that denying Zeus could have dire consequences.

— "I cannot force my own daughter into something she does not want..." — Doris finally answered. — "She fears Poseidon, and rightly so."

Zeus, unmoved, stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. — "I do not ask you to force her," — He said, his voice soft but filled with veiled threat. — "I ask you to convince her, to use your motherly love to bring her back willingly. Tell her whatever it takes to make her return."

Doris felt her heart sink, but she knew she had no choice. If she didn't act, the sea would continue to rage, and Poseidon's fury would not be contained, and Zeus didn't seem like the type to take "no" for an answer without terrible punishment.

With a resigned nod, she agreed. Zeus knew he had gotten what he wanted, and disappeared, leaving Doris alone with her thoughts and her difficult mission.

(Name), hidden in a cave at the bottom of the sea, felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She could feel Poseidon's fury in the waters that surrounded her, and she knew she couldn't hide forever. But fear paralyzed her, the fear of being forced into a fate she had not chosen.

Alone and desperate, (Name) wondered if there was any way to escape her situation. But at the same time, a part of her knew that the sea, with all its vastness and secrets, was Poseidon's domain. And in his domain, no one could hide forever.

It was then that she heard a familiar voice, sweet and comforting, calling her from outside the cave.

— "(Name), it's me, your mother, Doris." — The voice called. — "I need to talk to you, my daughter."

(Name) hesitated for a moment, but then ran to the cave entrance, relieved to see her mother. She threw herself into Doris's arms, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth.

— "Mom, I'm so scared..." — (Name) confessed, her voice breaking. — "Poseidon... I can't go back to him."

Doris held her daughter's face, looking into her eyes with a mixture of love and pain. She knew what she needed to do, but that didn't make the task any easier.

— "I understand your fear, my dear." — Doris began softly. — "But what you don't know is that Poseidon's fury isn't just anger... it's pain. The sea is in chaos, and he needs you by his side to find some kind of peace."

(Name) shook her head, still hesitant. — "But he's going to force me to be his wife." — She whispered. — "I can't live like this."

Doris sighed, trying to hide the pain in her heart.

— "Poseidon promised he won't force you." — She said, lying softly. — "He just wants to talk to you, to understand what you want. If you don't want to stay, he'll let you go, but first, he needs you to restore the balance of the seas. Everthing depends on you, my daughter."

(Name), despite her doubts, began to give in. She wanted to believe her mother's words, in the love Doris had always shown her. If there was a chance to prevent the destruction of the world and restore peace, maybe she should at least try.

— "Okay... Mom." (Name) said reluctantly. — "I'll go with you, but only to talk to him. If he tries to force me, I'll run away again."

Doris smiled, though her heart was heavy. — "I'll be by your side, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Upon returning to Poseidon's kingdom, (Name) was immediately greeted by the tyrant of the seas. His eyes were filled with a mix of desire and fury, despite his neutral expression.

— "(Name)." — Poseidon said, his voice deep. — "Finally, you've come back to me."

(Name) stood her ground, trying to remember her mother's words. — "I have returned, Poseidon, but only to talk. Do not force me to do anything, or I will leave again."

Poseidon smiled, a smile that did not reach his eyes. — "We will talk, my dear."

He promised, but (Name) could feel the weight of his will, the power he exerted over the ocean and over her. As Doris watched, she knew she had thrown her daughter into the clutches of the sea monster, but she also knew there was no other choice. The world was at stake, and sometimes, even a mother's love had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

And so, (Name)'s fate was in Poseidon's hands, and the future of the seas was uncertain as never before.

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[poltoreveur]

I can’t fix him but I could fuck him.

[artemiszy]

WHEN THE SEASONS CHANGE | Hades X Reader

Hades X Persephone!Reader | Record of Ragnarok

"In which the god of the underworld falls in love with a young goddess of spring."

WARNING. stalking, hades being a little creep(?), reader is persephone. FEMALE READER

Among the deities of the Greek pantheon, (Name) was always a curious little thing compared to everyone else around her. The strange momentary union between the king of the gods and the goddess of agriculture came unexpectedly. When the young goddess was born, her mother, Demeter, took her in her arms for the first time and swore to herself that she would never allow anything to happen to her sweet girl.

(Name) grew up and lived in her mother's domain, who kept her away from the eyes of others and any greed of thirsty gods. The girl on the other hand, was eventually becoming a beautiful and adorable deity.

Something her mother always told her was to never go to corners of Valhalla that did not belong to her domain, or any corner where the young goddess was not under her watchful eye. (Name) however, never worried about such words, obeying her mother without any protest, preferring to be among the beauty of the flowers and the abundant flora than among so many gods with curious looks.

Zeus was an interesting father, but he rarely saw her; on one of those rare encounters, where (Name) was walking through a forest right before playing with some flowers that sprouted from the ground thanks to her presence. Her father appeared and became very excited when he invited her to her first meeting among the gods, where every thousand years they would all come together in a great council and decide the fate of humanity.

Her mother, of course, immediately objected, firmly stating that there was no need for her daughter's presence as she was still a young deity and that she did not wish to expose her so soon to all those male gods so eager to feel at least a single taste of his much-loved daughter. And if (Name) didn't want to go, she definitely wouldn't have to.

And oh, how Demeter wished she had denied it. But (Name) put on her best dress made of flowers and roots that matched her (h/c) hair that was always blowing in the wind adorned with small flower petals scattered among its strands, and decided with determination that she would attend.

(Name) always thought that her first time at the council of the gods wouldn't be a big deal, but oh, she barely noticed when she started getting looks from all around, which were furiously returned by the icy, dangerous-looking gaze coming from the goddess of agriculture, who uttered words like “stay away from my daughter”.

Gods from different pantheons who observed with curiosity — others even with desire — the mysterious so-called goddess of spring of the Greek pantheon who for some reason was so well kept from everyone.

When the council finally began, (Name) sat in her seat among so many others — Demeter at her side, as always — and listened to everything her father, in the center, had to say, about how humanity could be poor and at the same time beautiful, and how mortals could or could not receive back everything they accomplished, whether good or bad. Some gods had their own arguments, about how they deserved to perish or live. Some of them just interested in causing disorder instead of really caring about such things done by humanity, others wishing they lived because they deserved it, despite the world being beautiful and also cruel. Others just remained silent listening attentively to everything the council had to argue.

And he was one of those last.

Initially, (Name) was able to notice that someone was watching her longer than usual; Normally, Demeter would notice even before she did and would make such a deity look away immediately. However, the older goddess was too busy having her own arguments, whether good or bad.

The feeling never disappeared since the beginning of the council, and trying to remain discreet so that no one would notice that something was bothering her, from the corner of her eye (Name) carefully observed any corner of that place in search of that god or goddess that the watched tirelessly. And then, her eyes met him.

At no point did he remove his gaze from her, even after she noticed. He was a deity of the Greek pantheon, and she recognized that guy very well, even though she had never met him in person. He was a tall, well-built man with platinum hair and was well dressed, his serious face, one of whose eyes was covered by a type of mask with a bright blue sphere. One of his parents' older brothers, Hades, the ruler of Helheim.

(Name) felt her body a little strange, not because of discomfort caused by that powerful god, but out of curiosity. Why did he look at her more than the others?

The young goddess was barely able to pay attention to the rest of the council and all the words spoken went in one ear and out the other, as if they were just muffled sounds in the distance. The feeling of being watched never disappearing, (Name) having the desire to be able to look at in the corner of her eye again only for their eyes to meet again, as she knew very well that he remained the entire meeting looking directly at her.

She wondered if everything that was said at the meeting also went in one ear and out the other for him.

In the end, Demeter instructed her daughter to return to her palace where they both lived. (Name) obeyed, however, before leaving, she saw him again. Some god was talking to him about something, he seemed barely aware that Hades' gaze remained fixed on her. The young goddess looked at him one last time and disappeared along with the wind that carried flower petals into the air.

And then spring arrived.

As time passed, (Name)'s visits to Valhalla became more and more common, but not frequent; especially when the young goddess ended up making a friend with the goddess of love, Aphrodite, who seemed extremely excited about something involving (Name).

In this period of time, all the previous sensations felt by her during the council returned from time to time, whether in Valhalla or in some other realm. (Name) knew he was watching her from afar. She didn't feel scared, on the contrary, curiosity spread throughout her divine body when she thought about that god, wondering why he was watching her so much, at that point, Demeter would have already intervened, and like her mother until that moment didn't show any reaction, (Name) guessed that she most likely still didn't even have in mind what was happening between her beloved daughter and the ruler of Helheim.

Not that anything was really happening, sometimes, during the very few moments they met — which basically consisted of events happening in Valhalla, he was always with one of his brothers and she was with her mother or Aphrodite — they never even exchanged a one single word, just quick glances, he kept while she looked away when he noticed.

He didn't look at her seriously, much less severely, nor with disgust. His look conveyed something that seemed more genuine, as if he wanted to get closer to her but never knew how, maybe greet her and kiss her hand. However, he just looked away back to what he was focused on as nothing happened. And then everything was repeated.

The only time (Name) felt watched outside of Valhalla was when she was in an open field in Midgard as she used to do for fun or just to pass the time. She sat on the greenish grass in front of a lake where a large group of different flowers with different colors were blooming around it, giving the field a more lived-in look along with some trees present there.

And then it was as if the air had cooled and all that color was slowly disappearing as the flowers were dying. (Name) stood up and looked back, and then she saw him. Hades was standing about ten meters behind her, with his usual well-groomed appearance and elegant suit; the common stoic face looking straight at her. (Name) didn't move, didn't get closer, much less try to run away. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, until he slowly approached, and she finally said something.

— "Why are you here?"

— "I wanted to see you." — It was the first time she heard his voice, it was worthy of a powerful god, it only sounded melodious to her thanks to the way he spoke with such calmness in his tone.

— "Why here?" — (Name)'s voice was soft like the breeze that swayed the flowers and leaves. — “We used to see each other in Valhalla... you could have talked to me a long time ago."

And then he stopped five meters away and observed her as if he were analyzing her being, (Name) almost wanted to ask another question, but her eyes met again until he said:

— “The way those other gods looked at you... in such a thirsty way as if they were doing everything to be able to resist temptation...” — He said calmly and seriously, despite his voice seeming distant. — “I felt like I couldn’t resist the urge to gouge out their eyes.”

(Name) didn't respond immediately, feeling surprised by such words spoken by the powerful god in front of her. And then she pressed her lips into a line to keep from gasping and slowly turned her body to the side, watching the flowers at her feet lose their color — not literally, but as if Hades's presence alone was enough to take away the life of anything, it was to be expected that Greek mortals would fear him so much.

— “You were also watching me...” — She murmured without taking her eyes off the flowers.

— “Not like them.”

And then her eyes met once again, (Name) felt as if she was back to her first time at the council of Valhalla, where their eyes first met that time, when he remained watching her from afar while she was unable to pay attention to anything else thanks to that.

And then the god approached again, and (Name) made no protest at that, much less when she felt him carefully hold one of her strands of hair and wrap it around his own index finger.

— “Demeter has always been very protective of you.” — He said, looking at the strand now in her palm. — “I wish I had met her sooner.” — He closed his eyes and let out a short sigh. — “I don’t blame her, to be honest. It bothers me so much just to think what would have happened if someone had gotten there before me.”

(Name) was not a fool, she recognized that there were many people out there who would love to do things against her will, Demeter always warned her to be careful, perhaps that was one of the reasons why she was such a protective mother. But (Name) never complained, after all, she loved her mother and greatly appreciated all her care.

And then she turned to face the god, and despite also being a goddess, the way Hades' aura was so powerful it even almost knocked her off balance, which was no surprise, since the he was one of the three great gods of the Greek pantheon along with Zeus and Poseidon.

— “I talked to Zeus about you.” — Hades spoke in his usual calm and stoic tone. — “He said you were a lovely goddess, you know?”

(Name) hummed in agreement. — “I once asked Aphrodite about you... she seemed pretty excited about it.” — She informed and Hades threw his head back and let out a grumble.

— “I know a lot about that woman...” — He mumbled before returning his face to the front, where (Name) could see a small frown. — “I know exactly what she plans.”

A short silence fell between the two, but it was quickly dissolved when (Name) decided to question:

— “And what does she plan?”

The god faced her in silence, taking two steps forward, making both (Name) and him feel each other's soft breathing, Hades tilting his face down so he could be face to face with the goddess.

Normally in a situation like that (Name) she would have been instructed to turn her back on the god and leave that place as quickly as possible, as Demeter had instructed her since the young goddess was able to understand the world around her. But instead she didn't move, she was curious and wanted to finally face it, she remained still in front of Hades while he moved one of his large hands against (Name)'s soft face.

And then he brought his face closer to hers.

— “Do you want to know?”

(Name)'s head slowly bobbed up and down in confirmation, and the next moment their lips came together. And he kissed her, it was a calm and unhurried kiss, but there was a flame of desire that seemed to already burn in the god's chest while something hot was lit in the goddess's.

Hades' other free hand then grabbed (Name)'s waist and pulled her closer, both of them pressing their bodies against each other while the girl's arms wrapped around the god's shoulders, pulling him closer and giving him more depth to the kiss. It was as if time had disappeared, not just time but everything around her; the sky, the wind and even the flowers. It was as if there were only both of them in the world as their lips intertwined sweetly in an act of longing.

When they separated, still extremely close and never looking away from anything other than each other, Hades ran his thumb close to the lower lip of (Name's) half-open mouth, who was panting softly and imperceptibly. The god's eyes left (Name)'s eyes to now stare at her pink lips, as if he were about to place another kiss there, this time even more intense, the goddess recognized this when she noticed a certain type of sparkle in the god's eyes in front of her.

And then he looked at her once more.

— "Close your eyes." — He instructed, and without thinking twice, (Name) obeyed.

The ground shook, but it didn't bother her. And then she heard the sound of a crater being opened, and it was when she felt the ground beneath her missing that she realized she was falling. But that didn't bother her.

Later in that same greenish and sunny field, (Name)'s mother arrives, calling her daughter after spending the whole day looking for her. But with no sign.

And then winter arrived.

[artemiszy]

your work is fireeeeee mann!!! i hope you know ur writing is really cool and im anticipating for what's next <<333 have a lovely day/night!

Omg thank yooouuu 😭😭💗💗💗

[artemiszy]

PRETTY THINGS | Gyutaro X Reader

Gyutaro x Oiran!Reader

"When an angel appears in the life of a boy who has been hurt his whole life."

WARNING. Violence, blood, minor character death, open ending. FEMALE READER

Gyutaro was an ugly child, from a young age he was able to recognize this. His sick mother who constantly tried to kill him before he could even leave her womb because he was an ugly child; the way citizens in the streets looked away in disgust in his presence and some threw stones at him because he was an ugly child.

And ugly children never have a good place in this world.

However, this could still be used to one's advantage. He began to use his appearance to mess with people, and he enjoyed seeing them afraid.

But he still recognized that he was an ugly child.

He still knew that no one but his little sister would look kindly on him; with pacience; and much less with love. And he had already accepted, everything was fine, he could continue surviving as a debt collector with attempts to at least be able to make Ume have something close to a dignified life.

If only they had been born into a higher hierarchy, maybe people wouldn't care that he was so despicable.

During another of his countless attempts to find something to survive, Gyutaro was once again mistreated. He received a black eye from a vendor who accused him of stealing eggs, something that was confirmed when the adult man shook the boy in poor condition and from his tattered kimono fell one of the eggs, which broke upon contact with the floor.

There were women in the distance laughing at the boy who, despite being beaten, would not release the eggs at all. It was his and Ume's dinner! They hadn't eaten in days!

— "Now... I'm going to teach you a lesson, you little shit!" — The furious man raised his fist again.

Falling to the ground, Gyutaro just waited for the next blow, something he was already used to, it wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

But the next blow never came, instead he heard a voice.

— "Stop this!"

It was a soft and peaceful voice, despite being loud, something that caught the attention of the salesman who stopped beating the boy. When he looked at the owner of the voice, Gyutaro's mind stopped, seeing a girl as beautiful and charming as the jewels that he would never be able to even touch. She was the same age as Gyutaro, her silky (h/c) hair was loose and she wore a simple light lilac colored kimono.

— "Stop this!" — The girl walked towards them with firm (e/c) eyes. — "Look at his condition!"

— "He stole from me! That's what this little shit deserves!" — The salesman growled. — "Go away if you don't want to get beaten too!"

The young girl's eyes went over Gyutaro, who was on the floor panting with blood running down his nose, she seemed to understand his situation when analyzing his appearance. He was poor and those eggs could be a necessity to survive.

— "If that's so..." — She sighed and removed a bag from inside the sleeve of her kimono. — "They're just eggs... that should be enough." — She took two coins from the bag and threw them to the man.

— "Huh?!" — The man raised his eyebrow, grabbing the coins. — "What you—"

— "There's your payment! Now go away." — The girl looked at the adult angrily.

Without saying anything else, the man growled softly and just accepted the payment, leaving in silence. Gyutaro quickly looked at the eggs stored inside his kimono and they were still intact, he sighed with relief knowing that he wouldn't need to eat insects again to survive.

— "Everything is fine?" — One of the girl's hands reached out to him.

Her hands were delicate and small, having a great contrast when compared to Gyutaro's calloused and dirty hands.

He felt a little remorseful about holding the girl's hand in front of him, as if he would contaminate her. She was beautiful, god, she was so beautiful. Why was a pretty child like her worrying about an ugly child like him?

— "I... I can get up by myself..." — Gyutaro murmured, getting up with a little difficulty.

Gyutaro felt surprised when the girl's hands grabbed one of his arms to help him get up.

— "Why are you helping me?" — He held himself back so as not to appear so aggressive. — "Do you want something in return by any chance?" — He clicked his tongue. — "I can't give anything back...!"

— "Hm?" — Her big (e/c) eyes blinked. — "I don't want anything in return."

— "Then why did you help me?" — Gyutaro closed his fist tightly. — "I... I don't need charity!"

— "That man was hurting you a lot and intended to hurt you even more." — She replied, seriously. — "You couldn't find any means of survival with your broken limbs, don't you think?"

Gyutaro stopped for a moment, she was right.

— "Your lack of response only proves me right."

Seeing that he had no choice, he let out a sigh. — "Thank you..." — He lowered his head. — "I really didn't want my little sister to go hungry another night..."

The mention of his little sister seems to have surprised the girl. She quickly removed the small bag from before again and took out about six coins, placing them in Gyutaro's palm.

— "Use it to buy food." — She said, leaving Gyutaro surprised again.

— "Huh?!" — He widened his eyes. — "Why are you still helping me? If you want something, just say it at once!"

The girl snorted. — "I already answered you, I don't want anything in return!" — She clicked her tongue. — "You seem like the type of person who isn't used to acts of kindness."

She was right.

In silence, Gyutaro nodded.

The girl's face seemed sad but she looked at him kindly. A look he had never received before from anyone other than his sister.

She continued. — "My name is (Name)."

— "...Gyutaro."

— "I hope to see you around, Gyutaro-kun." — (Name) smiled and left waving.

Gyutaro remained in the same place, motionless and in complete silence, watching the beautiful girl's silhouette disappear from his sight. He put the coins in a pocket of his kimono and then looked back in the direction in which (Name) disappeared.

He wished he could see her again.

(...)

— "(Name)!" — A woman with a chubby face threw huge fabrics of different colors and prints on top of the girl. — "Clean it up!"

The girl just bowed and went to the back garden of the pleasure house so she could clean the kimono fabrics. Being an oiran's apprentice, she still had a lot to learn, and cleaning for her 'older sister' under the order of the lady of the house was one of them.

(Name) never bothered about it, except when Aimi-oiran yelled at her because of delays or other trivial matters that the apprentice never cared much to hear about.

One of those brief moments of reverie was when (Name) felt something not very hard hitting the back of her head as she rubbed the fabrics inside the bucket of water.

That is, at that exact moment.

(Name)'s eyes narrowed and she removed what hit her from the top of her head, seeing a small bag of coins. Still with the object in hand, the girl stood up and looked back over her shoulder, seeing Aimi-oiran standing under the engawa corridor, staring at the younger girl with a serious expression.

— "Stop what you're doing and go buy food!" — Demanded the oiran.

Aimi-oiran was wearing a pretty kimono, even though she was disheveled and it was still daylight. (Name) just nodded with a small bow and let another apprentice in the house finish her work with the sheets.

Outside, the district was busy as always, and (Name) was careful not to be robbed at that time of day.

The girl walked calmly towards the place where she knew she sold what Aimi-oiran liked to eat, looking around and having some glimpses of what was happening in the district during that moment; some sellers shouting, people talking and even fighting. There was also smoke from something that smelled good coming from somewhere.

In a more isolated area of ​​the district, where there were few people. (Name) caught the eye of a little girl not so far away, who seemed to flinch and look away quickly when she noticed the oiran apprentice saw her.

The little girl had white hair and blue eyes, wearing a tattered light pink kimono. She looked at the boy next to her who had his back to (Name) and started to pull his arm and say something.

What (Name) could hear because the girl didn't seem discreet at all.

— "Onii-chan, look! Is that the girl you talked about?" — The little girl shook her brother's arm as if she wanted to get his attention as quickly as possible.

— "Huh?" — The boy looked confused and looked over his shoulder at (Name), less than a second later he turned his full attention to his sister. — "UME!" — He shouted in a whisper, trying to silence his sister. — "Be quiet...!!!"

— "But look!" — The girl, Ume, got excited and pointed at (Name). — "She has the same beautiful (e/c) eyes you described!"

(Name) felt confused for a moment but was surprised when she realized that she knew that boy.

— "Huh? Gyutaro, is that you?" — She approached.

Gyutaro seemed to stiffen. Beside him, Ume perked up even more.

— "Are you (Name)?" — Ume practically jumped in front of her with an excited smile. — "Onii-chan couldn't stop talking about you!"

— "Ume!" — Gyutaro turned around with teeth grinding. — "I already told you to be quiet!"

— "He kept saying how a pretty girl appeared like an angel and— HMMF!"

Ume's speech was cut off when Gyutaro covered her mouth with one of his hands. Then looking at (Name) with his typical dead fish eyes, but he seemed pleasant when looking at the girl in front of him.

— "My bad..." — He said, Ume struggling furiously to take his hand away from her mouth, but to no avail. — "Sometimes my little sister can be a little silly..."

— "It's been a few weeks since we've seen each other." — (Name) gave a pleasant laugh. — "So... this is your little sister?"

Ume finally managed to take Gyutaro's hand away from her mouth, and looked at (Name) with an excited face.

— "I'm Ume! When onii-chan talked about you, I really got excited!"

— "You are adorable." — (Name) smiled and passed her hand on the top of Ume's head, who let out a happy laugh.

Gyutaro seemed happy to see the two together.

— "You are very beautiful! Are you an oiran?" — Ume asked.

— "Actually, I'm training to be one. Maybe next year I'll become one."

— "Cool!" — Ume became even more excited. — "I'm going to be one too, you know? Everyone says I'm very beautiful!"

— "Oh yes, you are." — (Name) nodded with a gentle smile on her face. — "Maybe you'll be my kamuro one day."

(Name)'s words seemed to cheer Ume up even more.

— "I liked her, onii-chan!" — Ume started shaking Gyutaro's arm once again while pointing at (Name). — "I liked her!"

— "Okay, okay, Ume!" — Gyutaro grumbled. — "I liked her too." — He accidentally let go, and the moment he turned away with a grunt, but his little sister could notice the blush on his face.

— "Onii-chan!" — The little girl's eyes widened and she laughed happily. — "You are in love?!"

— "What?! No! Ume, be quiet before I shove rocks in your mouth!"

But Ume just laughed, which caused soft giggles from (Name) as well.

(...)

As the months passed, Gyutaro would secretly show up to visit (Name), sometimes bringing Ume with him. Sometimes they would sneak out in the dead of night to wander the streets of the districts and get some interesting things, like enough coins to play at festivals.

Even after they both reached adolescence and (Name) finally became an oiran, which made access to her even more difficult. But even so, Gyutaro kept going to see her.

And during one fateful night, Gyutaro smelled blood while climbing outside to (Name)'s room.

Upon jumping into the room and putting his feet on the tatami, Gyutaro felt extremely uneasy when he didn't see (Name) just a faint light coming from the other side of the fusuma door. Cautiously, he followed, inwardly fearing what he might find.

The boy didn't feel surprised or scared when he saw a man's corpse sprawled on the mat with a pool of blood pooling in it. The guy appeared to be middle-aged and had a knife stuck in his throat, along with an expression of horror on his face, despite being already dead. Gyutaro had seen dead bodies all his life, one more wouldn't make a difference. But he still felt extremely uneasy when he saw a dead body in (Name)'s room.

With her back to the corpse and also to Gyutaro, closer to the wall, (Name) gently brushed her lips red in front of a mirror.

— "...(Name)?" — Gyutaro called her.

She took a while to respond, but when her voice came, she put the brush down on the table and spoke softly.

— "It's over."

— "What's over?" — Gyutaro approached, and noticed how (Name)'s bloody hand was shaking, despite her calm posture.

— "I killed this man. They will find out soon."

Gyutaro let out a tired sigh and bent down in front of (Name), making her turn towards him. — "Tell me what happened."

— "This man... he wanted to marry me." — (Name) informed.

Gyutaro felt relieved that the bastard was dead.

She continued. — "But... it got worse every night. He kept coming back and coming back, it was scaring me..." — She practically spat. — "And then... he tried to take me by force, when I refused once again."

— "(Name)..." — Gyutaro brushed away the strands of hair stuck to the girl's forehead, who was sweating coldly as she stared blankly at the corpse behind the boy. — "Why didn't you tell me? I could have dealt with this bastard on the streets!" — He grumbled.

(Name) let out a melancholic sigh. — "It wouldn't work... he was a samurai. I didn't want to put you in danger. But it's too late now. They'll come soon and discover the body, and I'll be killed for my crime."

Gyutaro's eyes widened in fierce fury.

— "That won't happen!" — He grabbed (Name)'s hands.

— "It's nothing to do!" — The oiran whimpered. — "Get out of here while there's still time. Bad things will happen to you if they find you here!"

But Gyutaro didn't move, instead, he pressed (Name)'s bloody hands against his own chest and walked closer, his gaze becoming determined, as if he had spent his entire life preparing to utter the words he was about to say. .

— "Then come with me."

(Name)'s wet eyes widened with furrowed eyebrows and a confused look on her face.

— "...Huh?"

— "Run away with me." — Gyutaro asked once again. — "Let's get out of here and never come back. With the money I got from collecting debts and you from your job as a courtesan, we could get out of here. Me, you and Ume."

(Name) remained silent, staring at Gyutaro without a certain expression for him to identify, perhaps just surprise.

— "(Name)... I love you." — Gyutaro finally let go, holding the girl's hands even more firmly against his chest. — "I love you and I have loved you since the day you appeared like an angel in my life, everyone has always judged me but not you. There is nothing I love more in this world than you and my sister, you two are everything to me. And that's why I I need to tell you this, even though you might not feel the same way."

Gyutaro considered himself ugly and repulsive, his whole life he was judged by other damned people and treated not even worthy of pity.

He expected (Name) to rip her hands out of his, slap him, and then scream and accuse him of killing that man. However, Gyutaro was surprised when that girl's delicate, blood-stained hands grabbed his face on either side and pulled him into a kiss.

A kiss that seems to have lasted an eternity, and Gyutaro would stay in it for another eternity if he could.

When the two separated, (Name) ran the thumb of her left hand across Gyutaro's cheekbone, wiping away a single, solitary tear that fell from his eye. The boy not even caring about the blood on his face.

Gyutaro stood up, holding the same hand that (Name) used to wipe away his tear.

— "I'll go down first, when I'm down there, you jump and I'll hold you, okay?"

This had been in my drafts for over a year, so why not?

[artemiszy]

THERE IS NO HAPPINESS | Kokushibo X Wife!Reader

Kokushibo x Wife!Reader | One-shot

"Kokushibo was a man who made a lot of mistakes during his life, but loving his wife certainly wasn't one of them, even if she too made the same mistakes."

WARNING. angst, abandonment, weird relationship(?), swearing, death, light gore(I think), manga spoilers. FEMALE READER

The Toyosaki clan was known and prosperous thanks to its reputation for possessing the most beautiful and sweetest women. Sons were kept in their own clan, while daughters were promised to powerful leaders and strong samurai.

And with (Name) it was no different.

As the third daughter of the current clan head and his wife, (Name) was only ten years old when she was betrothed to the firstborn of another clan. It was to be expected, one of her older sisters was already married and the other was engaged too, (Name) just nodded when she got the news.

At least her future husband would be kind. (Name) shuddered to remember that one of her cousins ​​was unhappily married to a cruel, older man, but he was rich and had a reputation, and that was what mattered anyway...

(Name) was a silent child whose expression was always neutral towards everything around her, but she felt relieved when she was informed about the age of her future husband. A boy who was only two years older than (Name), a future samurai and leader. Until she was very curious to meet him.

It took about three or four months for (Name) to meet him in person, the day the clans got together to do business with each other. (Name) stayed with her eldest sister, the second daughter of Lord Toyosaki, who was fourteen years old, was the closest sister to (Name).

— "Nervous?" — Yuri's low words rang in (Name)'s ear.

(Name)'s face rose from her hands clasped under her folded legs above the mat, and she looked at her older sister. — "No."

Maybe it was a lie, after all, (Name) was in new territory, one that he would now live with more often.

— "I can see your little hands trembling, dear sister." — Yuri laughed as he tucked one of (Name)'s (h/c) behind her ear. — "Don't worry, I felt that way too the day I met Yoshimatsu-kun." — She smiled. — "You'll soon realize that things are going to work out for the best."

(Name) remembers that day, it was a year ago when during spring her sister Yuri went with her father and clan companions to officiate her engagement to Yoshimatsu of the Tanifuji clan. (Name) has yet to meet him as at that time she decided to stay with her mother, who could give birth to her younger brother at any time.

According to Yuri's words, Yoshimatsu was like one of the princes of the novels read by her sister, a kind man and a lover of the arts. (Name) still expected her future husband to be kind.

Now it was spring again.

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Her future husband's name was Michikatsu Tsugikuni. (Name) first saw him while walking through the engawa with her sister and other ladies, she saw him training with a master in the estate's garden. At that moment she didn't know it was him, although her eyes met and they both stared at each other for a few seconds before they were brought back to reality.

(Name) only found out a few moments after she was finally alone and overheard a conversation between handmaidens.

— "I feel bad for the Toyosaki girl." — One of the servants whispered to the other within a region of the residence.

(Name)'s footsteps stopped at these words. Wait, were they talking about her? The girl looked into the room carefully so as not to be seen thanks to the half-open door.

— "So it is." — The other agreed. — "How did Lord Toyosaki allow (Name)-sama to marry second choice?"

Those servants seemed not to want to be heard at all.

Second option?

— "Hey! Watch your words." — The first handmaiden gave a whispery cry.

— "But it's true, the stronger son fled and what was left for the Tsugikuni was to entrust the clan to the weaker son!"

— "But look on the bright side." — The other chuckled mischievously. — "With the arrival of the Toyosaki maybe we can meet some handsome boys from the clan..."

The servants laughed and talked to each other about trivial matters now, outside, (Name) was sitting on the floor leaning against a wall now a little far from the room, thinking about what she heard.

Strongest son? Weakest son?

She remembers only once hearing around that Michikatsu had a twin brother, but she ended up putting that aside as she wasn't interested.

— "What are you doing there?" — A boyish male voice caught the attention of (Name), when she looked at him she realized it was the same boy as before, until he widened his eyes when she looked at him with those big confused and beautiful eyes. — "(Name)-sama?!"

(Name) quickly got up and covered the boy's mouth making "shhh", then looking back to make sure the handmaids didn't hear, and seeing that they didn't, she grabbed the boy's hand and pulled him out of there.

— "What were you talking about there?" — The boy asked with a slight distress and concern in his voice.

— "I overheard a conversation and…" — (Name) looked right at the boy. — ...Hmm? Wait. Michikatsu-sama?"

— "Y-Yes..."

(Name) blinked. — "Oh."

The two were silent.

— "..."

— "..."

— "...So, you are my future wife...?"

— "...I am."

— "Oh."

— "..."

Michikatsu scratched his cheek and looked away with a faint pink blush appearing on his face. — "You... you're beautiful..."

— "..." — (Name) gave a small smile of happiness. — "Thanks."

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It was clear that (Name) wanted a love match, so she was happy when she was able to spend more time with her future husband thanks to certain meetings. Friendship became love in a matter of just a single year.

At sixteen, (Name) married Michikatsu. A year later she had her first child, Tsukihiro.

During this period of time, (Name) watched her husband become a stronger and more skilled man, she admired this, his dedication and talent, although she felt that sometimes something bothered her.

Two more years passed before Michikatsu approached (Name) with news.

— "(Name)..."

— "Hmm?" — (Name) looked at him as her finished feeding little Tsukihiro boiled rice.

There was also a small bulge in (Name)'s belly area below her kimono, indicating that she was expecting a baby in the next few months.

Her husband sighed and sat down on the mat beside her as Tsukihiro's face rejoiced to see his father.

— "My brother is back..." — Michikatsu informed her.

(Name) had a surprised reaction, she had already heard about Yoriichi, her husband's talented twin brother. Michikatsu talked about him in more detail at certain times, such as when Yoriichi had to live in a cubicle room and never said anything to the point where the twins' mother thought her youngest son was deaf.

Or when he ran away just so his brother wouldn't be left out.

— "(Name)..." — He began. — "Have you ever heard of demons?"

Demons. (Name) remembers hearing stories as a child of hungry beasts that fed on humans after sunset. Once, at dawn, Yuri approached (Name) in the dead of night and whispered about having heard around that a beast had torn apart a group of men in the southern mountains, it had been a terrible damage to be the work of animals.

Demons. That was the answer given by people considered crazy.

— "Once... when I was a kid... my father yelled at me and my sister when we mentioned demons." — (Name) whispered, looking down at the small bowl in her hands of nearly finished rice. — "He said we shouldn't talk nonsense."

— "They are real."

— "I know. I believe."

— "I was attacked by one."

(Name)'s eyes widened and she nearly dropped the bowl. Thanks to his samurai duties, Michikatsu often spent days and even weeks away. But (Name) could never have imagined that something related to demons would have happened this last time.

Wait, is that why Yoriichi came back?

— "I lost all my men in a demonic attack, that's when my brother arrived in time and saved me..."

— "What?" — (Name) dropped the bowl on the chabudai table as Tsukihiro was too busy playing with his father's hair to finish eating or even think about listening to the conversation between the adults. — "How did he do it?"

Michikatsu sighed as he felt a slight tug on his ponytail. — "He used a sword with a nichirin blade and... a breath."

— "Breath?"

— "You won't understand if you start to explain... but know that it's something powerful that helps to kill demons." — Michikatsu explained. — "There is a corps of swordsmen who hunt and kill demons, my brother is there and taught the other men derivations of his breath." — He seemed a little hesitant to continue. — "And I decided to join them."

(Name) was speechless, kept her gaze calm. That was dangerous, her husband would be at risk if he went. No…he was strong, one of the strongest she'd ever seen. He could manage, after all, he wouldn't be alone, his brother and companions would be there.

He's going to be fine... or at least that's what (Name) deeply prayed for.

— "I... I..." — (Name) tried to start a sentence.

— "From your reaction I don't think it's something you liked very much." — Michikatsu took a deep breath as he relaxed his body and tilted his head up.

— "I won't deny it, I didn't like that idea very much." — (Name) pulled her adorable restless son close to her so he could finish his meal and then sleep. — "I worry about you..."

Michikatsu tilted his face towards her, gave a small smile and approached her. — "Do not worry, I'll be fine." — He held (Name)'s porcelain face and placed a kiss on her lips, hearing an "eeew" from Tsukihiro. — "Don't you trust me?"

— "I trust, of course I trust!" — (Name) seemed to hesitate a little. — "B-But..." — She felt her baby move in her womb, perhaps because she was a little nervous to imagine her husband in the midst of demons, enemies much more dangerous and powerful than humans.

— "I'll be fine." — Michikatsu leaned his forehead against his wife's while still caressing her face.

— "You'll be back all right, promise?"

— "Promise."

The moment Michikatsu left, (Name) felt a tug on the fabric of the kimono on her shoulder.

— "Okaa-san!" — Tsukihiro exclaimed with a mouth full of rice. — "Where Otou-san is going?"

(Name) laughed and wiped her son's mouth, finding it adorable that he is so playful and already knows how to speak several words, even if he sometimes misses the pronunciation.

— "Work, dear…" — She smiled and hugged her son. — "You're going to miss him, aren't you?"

— "Uhm..." — Tsukihiro grumbled with his face buried in his mother's kimono.

— "Me too..."

Even though she believed in her husband, (Name) didn't feel a good feeling.

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Her husband's presence became less frequent, (Name) received news about Michikatsu's status at the hunters' headquarters and felt relieved that he was well.

However (Name) was furious and devastated when Michikatsu failed to attend the birth of Tsuyami, her newborn daughter.

It didn't take long for her to realize that something was really wrong. Michikatsu's gaze and the way his lips seemed to spit out his twin's name... (Name) recognized that this was not normal, and her suspicions were reinforced when she found her husband in a grueling training session during the night.

— "Michikatsu?" — (Name) strained her eyes to see under the rain her husband soaked by the drops but not letting go of the sword he used to slash the air.

He did not answer.

— "Michikatsu... what are you doing there at this hour?" — (Name) sighed with concern. — "Please... go back inside, I don't want you to get sick."

Again there was no response.

— "Michi--"

— "I have to become stronger..."

— "Hm?"

— "My brother... I have to get over him..." — Michikatsu growled in a mutter.

— "...What?" — (Name) squeezed the handle of the intern. — "...Michikatsu, go back inside." — Her voice was more serious.

Again there was no response, and the samurai continued to slash at the non-existent opponent with his blade.

(Name) dropped her flashlight on the engawa floor and walked quickly across the wet lawn to her husband in the rain, getting wet in the process, but that was not important.

— "Listen me!" — She grabbed Michikatsu's wrist. — "Stop it! You're already crossing the line! I don't want you to harm yourself!" — Her look was incredulous for that situation. — "How long have you been doing this, huh?!"

— "(Name)... go back inside." — He growled.

— "No!" — Her voice was raised as she brushed strands of wet hair from her face thanks to the rain. — "Look at you! Your training is too intense! It's going to end up hurting you!"

— "Fuck!" — Michikatsu turned to face her. — "I need to become stronger than my brother!" — He yelled.

(Name) blinked with a confused face, before her writhed in rage again. — "So that's it?! You'd die if it made you better than your brother by any chance?! What's on your mind?! You're obsessed!"

Michikatsu's jaw clenched.

— "This... this is madness..." — Now (Name)'s voice was one of sadness, melancholy. — "I don't want you to keep hurting yourself..."

He was hurting himself… gnawing and eating away at his blood and sweat and even his last hair to make himself stronger. While his younger brother didn't need any of that.

He was already strong without even training.

That thought was a reminder, and it made Michikatsu furious.

(...)

Days passed, Michikatsu left on a mission and no further news. (Name) feared the worst.

Until when a whole week has graduated, he comes back.

— "Michi?" — (Name) wept with relief to see her husband appear in the doorway.

Tsukihiro rejoices and tries to hug his father's leg, but the grown man walks in a specific direction, ignoring both his children and his wife. The now four year old boy stands static in the same place where his father was before, his face surprised and even in shock at how rough Michikatsu was when he passed by.

— "..." — (Name) looked in the direction Michikatsu had gone. — "Michi! What was that?"

No reply.

— "Otou-san!" — Tsukihiro ran after Michikatsu, disappearing from (Name)'s sight.

(Name) looked down into her arms and saw her daughter fidgeting and whimpering. Before she could get up and go after her son and husband, both of them appear, Tsukihiro trying to call out to Michikatsu and being ignored by him.

— "Michikatsu, why are you ignoring him?" — (Name) asks with concern, feeling the sadness in her son.

He ignores her.

— "Hey!" — (Name) gets up carefully so as not to disturb Tsuyami. — "Why do not you speak?"

— "Otou-san!" — Tsukihiro tries to get his father's attention by pulling on his hakama pants, but the boy just fell back when Michikatsu opened the shoji door without even looking back.

— "Goodbye."

Michikatsu Tsugikuni disappeared after that night.

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Everything was in chaos. Michikatsu's disappearance and his alleged family abandonment had thrown everything into chaos.

Tsukihiro couldn't stop crying and asking where his father was, and his crying resulted in Tsuyami crying. (Name) didn't know what to do, of all there she was certainly the most broken. Her husband left her without a word, left her and her children.

Things got even more tense when Yoriichi showed up at her house to let her know what happened.

Michikatsu abandoned his humanity and was now a demon. (Name) couldn't help but cry, Yoriichi gave her a shoulder for it.

And things got even worse when at the door of her property appeared other slayers demanding that (Name) commit sepukku with Yoriichi thanks to what Michikatsu have done.

(Name) thought about it, but who was she kidding? She wouldn't have the courage.

Two months passed. Two months of pure pain and conflict. During this period of time things became tense internally, Tsukihiro was supposed to become the next head of the clan as Michikatsu had been presumed "dead" and Yoriichi... well, Yoriichi was no longer an option. Tsukihiro was still too young for that, a child barely five years old, so much trouble.

(Name) just couldn't handle the whole situation, the pressure of her "new" clan and the abandonment of her husband, to make matters worse, she still had to live with the comments of people who found her situation funny.

Sometimes (Name) wished these people would die.

Her only hope now was her children, her only joy, though Tsukihiro was still upset and Tsuyami was too young to even understand what was happening. (Name) was doing her best to keep them well.

(...)

Things changed again a few days after the arrival of spring, this time in a much more drastic and intense way.

— "Nice night, don't you think?"

The unfamiliar male voice made (Name)'s eyes widen. The voice had a soft tone but there was still something about it that made its owner scream danger.

(Name) released the flower from the mansion's garden and turned her face towards the subject. He was a man much taller than she was, a handsome man she had never seen before. Curly black hair and eyes the brightest blood red.

How did he get in here?

— "Who are you...?"

The man smiled, a smile that despite looking friendly was still an evil smile. — "I am the one known as the Demon King."

Muzan Kibutsuji.

Silence. Total silence with only the noise of crickets and owls.

A wind hit (Name)'s face before she could say anything. — "...Why are you here?"

— "Your husband misses you." — The man's laugh made her shiver.

(Name) felt her chest tighten at the mention of her husband, but she tried to remain steadfast in the face of the whole situation. She knew how dangerous the Demon King was, Yoriichi had warned her.

— "That... that doesn't answer my question."

Still looking satisfied with the situation, Muzan took a few slow steps forward with the intention of getting a few meters closer to the woman.

— "Why don't you become a demon?"

— "What?"

— "I've been watching you for a while after I got Kokushibo, and I have to admit... you would be a great demon."

It was as if there was venom in his voice, those words were mean and there wasn't an ounce of genuineness in them. He was trying to manipulate her. After what Yoriichi did to Muzan, it was clear that he would need allies.

— "..." — (Name) stared at him without reaction.

— 'Think about it, you will be strong and fear nothing more." — The man's voice was strangely anxious. — "You will never grow old and will remain young for all eternity."

(Name)'s face lowered, her gaze fixed on the lawn as her hand trembled slightly, squeezing the hem of her kimono.

She knew she had no choice, by the time the Demon King appeared before her she was already doomed. Muzan wasn't the type to take a "no" and walk away. No... (Name) was smart enough to understand what would happen. He would kill her and then annihilate everyone on this property.

Including Tsukihiro and Tsuyami.

And it had been almost a month since the last time Yoriichi showed up, he wouldn't be able to help anyone in that situation.

It was the moment (Name) felt Muzan's hand enter her chest and pump his blood that she realized that maybe she wasn't that different from her husband.

She blacked out.

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A again everything has changed.

(Name) did not have the courage to appear to her children after that night, she was afraid that they would fear her or that she would hurt them. So she stood in the shadows watching everything, shedding tears at the loss of the sparkle in Tsukihiro's eyes after losing his mother and father in such a short period of time, before such a joyful and full of life child.

Like Michikatsu, (Name) was also presumed dead. It was at her "funeral" that (Name) saw her sister Yuri for the first time in so long.

She had to walk away after that day.

Meanwhile Michikatsu, no... Kokushibo, now the demon who craved more and more for power to overcome his brother no matter what, his vision was clouded by hatred and rancor that only realized that sixty years had passed when he found his brother again.

A old man, but alive, and even stronger than his brother.

Kokushibo was furious. Why was his brother still alive?! He should have died years ago for the mark!

He got even angrier when even old, his brother managed to hurt him. Nothing changed.

But his mind became even more clouded when the attack that would kill him never came, as Yoriichi had died standing up with his sword still in hand. That's when he realized that not even that man could defeat him, no one could even hurt him.

He made his older brother feel pathetic.

Kokushibo's mind screamed in rage as he cut the other twin's already dead body in two. But his mind was cleared when he saw the flute fall to the ground.

— "I think of that flute you gave me... as if it were you, brother." — A young Yoriichi smiled at the flute in his hands.

— "..."

— "I made a flute for my brother a few years ago, you know?" — A thirteen-year-old Michikatsu smiled at a (Name) of the same age as he practiced with his wooden sword.

— "Serious?" — She smiled. — "How cute! You really love your brother, don't you?"

Yoriichi... (Name)...

— "What did you do?"

That familiar voice... The man felt as if his body had stopped working for a moment.

He looked back over his shoulder and his six eyes widened at the sight of that familiar figure beneath the red moon. There she was, just as he had last seen her. The same simple yet beautiful kimono; the soft skin and delicate face; the same hair (h/c).

She looked at him with an emotionless face but at the same time there seemed to be surprise in those eyes. Those eyes that now distinguished that she was no longer human. The whites of her eyes had been replaced by black and the iris of her eyes were now white instead of (e/c).

Despite everything, she still remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

— "...(Name)..."

She did not answer. Instead her eyes were empty but not from sadness or melancholy, it was as if she had forgotten what it felt like to feel something. There was nothing in those eyes.

(Name) just passed by Kokushibo to see Yoriichi's body. — "Bury him, at least give him a decent burial."

Yoriichi was his brother after all.

He could feel it, that woman was a strong demon, something that had killed so many people.

During the short period of time that both of them got together to bury the dead man's body, neither of them said a word, although Kokushibo felt the burning in his chest to confront her, even though at no point did she look at him in the face.

The two buried Yoriichi in the same spot that his now-deceased wife had been buried. Then (Name) disappeared along with a mist that was probably part of her kekkijutsu.

Now husband and wife were two strangers.

(...)

About fifty more years passed. Things change again. Kokushibo, who now held the rank of "upper moon one" received the information that there was a demon rising very fast in the hierarchy, and that he was currently in the rank of "upper four".

Another year later and the demon has risen to "upper three".

Another year and the demon has risen to "upper two".

Afterwards Kokushibo received news that this demon had now become powerful enough to share the rank of "upper one" with him. And that left him seething with hatred.

Who was the bastard who was able to match his strength with his?

His bad thoughts faded and were replaced by surprise when Kokushibo was finally introduced to the demon.

And there she was again. With the same emotionless face and empty eyes.

— "(Name)..."

She didn't answer, but she blinked.

— "When did it get so strong?"

— "Just like you."

The more they feed, the more powerful the demons get. And by how quickly (Name) rose through the ranks it can only mean that she killed a lot of people at once.

You could see in the depths of those soft but opaque eyes, (Name) was a demon that craved power, a blank crockery, there was no emotion on her face other than the desire to have more strength.

And despite being his wife, Kokushibo would not allow (Name) to surpass him as a demon in the same way that Yoriichi surpassed him as a human.

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— "Ara ara~ (Name)-chan is always so serious!" — Douma's irritating voice rang out.

— "Shut up, worm." — Akaza growled.

(Name) just ignored the fight of those two annoying demons in the distance and remained with her eyes closed and an ethereal posture sitting on the mat.

The emergence of Muzan's presence made Akaza and Douma settle down before they lost their heads. (Name) opened her eyes when she felt him close by.

— "Any news on the blue spider lily?"

The demons' negative responses seemed to irritate Muzan. So long and still nothing.

He continued. — "You good-for-nothings are useless." — Muzan growled. — "I should eliminate them once and for all."

The upper moons present at the place felt as if their cells were going to explode, and that hurt a lot, (Name) had to admit, even though she had already gotten used to it thanks to Muzan's temper. When the man seemed to calm down the pain left.

That situation was already common. Muzan would come and ask about such a flower, and when the demons didn't bring answers that pleased him then he would get angry saying things like "I will destroy you all".

Kokushibo looked to the side so that she could see (Name), whose eyes were fixed on the ground. Despite everything, she was still beautiful.

When the noise of the biwa sounded, Kokushibo was now in the middle of a forest in front of an empty rice field. Next to him was (Name) sitting on a large boulder. It was rare for them to be alone together, and for the first time, (Name) didn't leave. She sat there with her eyes closed feeling the cool breeze hit her face.

— "Do you feel it?" — She muttered with her head tilted up.

— "..."

She silenced him by opening her eyes abruptly and leaning her face forward again. — "Shh."

The two were silent, until Kokushibo felt something too.

— "Humans. Nearby." — And then she disappeared again in her mist kekkijutsu.

A few meters away was a group of slayers who seemed to be looking for demons, they didn't look more than twenty years old.

— "Yeah man!" — One of them yelled and scratched his ear. — "I saw a demon pass this way!"

— "Are you sure it wasn't just a boar?" — Another rolled his eyes, tired of the whole situation and wanting to go back to the old village in the interest of seeing some pretty girls.

— "Forget it!" — Another one exclaimed, already irritated. — "Leave the demons alone!" — He snorted. — "Let's go before this mist intensifies!"

— "Wait, mist?"

By the time they finally realized that there was a dark fog surrounding them it was too late. The texture of the mist was similar to clouds, but it seemed to contain twinkling stars, until the mist covered them completely until it looked like the slayers had been transported to a "dimension" of a starry night sky.

— "What the hell is that...?" — One of them looked like he was going to get his pants dirty.

— "A demon!" — He took up his sword. — "Keep alert!"

The darkness mixed with the mist was extremely dense to the point that no human would be able to see anything. The last thing they saw was the flash of a sword's blade cut.

When the mist stopped, the slayers returned to the forest with lifeless bodies.

— "I could have done it without you." — (Name) muttered.

— "Hm."

She just sighed and approached the bodies, there were six in total.

— "Marechi..." — Kokushibo threw one of the bodies in front of (Name). — "You can... you can have this..."

(Name) blinked a little in surprise, as demons didn't usually share their dead prey, let alone marechi. Even if they were the targets of (Name) and Kokushibo he had just meddled.

It was okay, after all… he still had a lot to redeem himself if he wanted her forgiveness. If he ever had.

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Things got weird for the demons when the upper moon six died and shortly thereafter upper five and four as well. For the first time in a hundred years things have changed again, not in a good way for the demons, apparently.

Now only Muzan and his last upper moons remained, Nakime had become the upper four and Kaigaku - a boy who was turned into a demon after his encounter with the upper moon one, felt intimidated and realized he wouldn't have chances to win, knelt in front of Kokushibo accepting his blood while (Name) watched everything from behind. - It had risen in rank and was now in the upper moon six position.

Either way, they've kept to the shadows since discovering a demon that can beat the sun. Who knows what Muzan was planning.

In the sprawling hall full of columns was the spot that (Name) chose to think a little, not long before he came across her ranking companion.

Her husband.

— "Do you feel it?" — He asked in his usual distant voice.

(Name) raised her face and looked at him in silence.

— "It started." — She said.

The slayers were in the infinite fortress. It was only a matter of time before they reached the upper moon one.

Things were changing, now it was fate's turn to decide whether the last upper moons would live or die as their "companions". And if fate were truly merciful, no demons would make it through this night.

Despite keeping in mind that it was one of the strongest demons, still, deep down behind his neutral face, (Name) feared for a moment. Kokushibo sensed this and looked straight at her.

— "(Name)..." — He called out to her, and she looked at him again. — "Before... this all started... I wanted to ask you... why did you become a demon..."

She didn't respond right away, instead looking down at the floor.

— "I... I don't know..." — She replied. — "At first I was scared... I didn't want to accept the change and I even thought that things could be different but... it wasn't worth it. In the end, I just didn't want to die."

Kokushibo listened in silence. — "I see..." — He also averted his eyes to another direction other than the woman beside her. — "I allowed all my hatred for my brother to blind me to the point of leaving for more power…" — Pause. — "My biggest regret... was not coming back for you that night..."

In the end, there was nothing to complain about after all, they weren't that different.

The conversation of the two demons was interrupted as a human presence grew closer and closer.

The moment a young slayer fell from the shattered ceiling and stopped in front of the pair of demons, (Name) felt a strange sensation as her laid eyes on him.

— "You're here... demon slayer..." — Kokushibo started and put his hand on the katana bar, until he finally realized the same thing that (Name) had felt. — "Hm...? For some reason... you look very... familiar..."

(Name) agreed, still in a certain trance thanks to that feeling.

Kokushibo's six eyes narrowed with a calm expression. — "I imagined... now I understand..."

The slayer was silent as if there was a conflict in his mind. The presence of the demons was intimidating, the boy tried to pull his sword but he didn't stop shaking. It was as if there was a dangerous aura in that place.

Very dangerous.

— "What is your name...?

— "...Muichiro Tokito."

— "Right then... the name Tsugikuni must have disappeared then..." — The six-eyed demon looked thoughtful.

For a moment, (Name) felt like her body was going to fall, that feeling...

The female demon stopped her gaze in the direction of the young slayer meters away. That face… it looked like a face she'd long since forgotten about.

No... it can't be...

— "...Tsugikuni? Who was it?" — Muichiro seemed to notice the tension in the demon woman.

— "It's been centuries after all... it was inevitable... my name when I was human was Michikatsu Tsugikuni..."

Michikatsu... it had been ages since (Name) had heard that name out loud...

— "And she remained (Name)..." — The six-eyed demon continued. — "You... are a descendant of a member of the Tsugikuni family that we left behind..."

The Tsukihiro's descendant.

"Okaa-san!"

Muichiro was in shock, trying to process everything he had just heard from the male demon, who remained motionless and unsurprised. The woman on the other hand, despite trying to stand her ground and stoic like the other demon, was clearly just as surprised as the young Hashira, even looking bewildered as if she was going to fall.

As if she was going to cry.

Her mind must have been in a mess. But (Name) tried to put her emotions aside to focus on what was to come.

And the fight began.

The boy's breathing was similar to (Name's) kekkijutsu, so it wasn't that difficult for her to adapt, even if the woman had no intentions of attacking.

At least not yet.

When the mark appeared on Muichiro's face, his attack seemed to get stronger, but it still wasn't enough to defeat the pair of demons. And the moment Kokushibo played his own blade, one of Muichiro's hands flew away.

The next mist was not from Muichiro, but from that woman, who surrounded him preventing him from seeing anything. In the next moment Kokushibo threw him against a pillar keeping the boy there trapped by his own sword.

The mist cleared and (Name) approached the boy standing next to the other demon.

— "Our descendant..." — Kokushibo began. — "Allow me to turn you into a demon... so that you can be of use to that man."

— "It is surprising that you are our descendant…" — (Name) sighed. — "I feel even... happy about it. I'm glad you were born. So there's nothing to fear..."

Kokushibo agreed. — "Let me stop the bleeding... humans are so fragile."

(Name)'s eyes closed a little in anger as she noticed that the hidden slayer really thought she and Kokushibo hadn't noticed him there.

Genya tried to shoot the demons but his arm fell off.

— "GENYAAA!" — Muichiro yelled and tried to break free.

— "Be silent…" — (Name) scolded him. — "Screaming will hurt your vocal cords..."

Despite keeping his eyes fixed on Genya, Muichiro seemed to be listening intently to everything the woman said.

— "You know... you really remind me a lot of someone..." — (Name) sighed, watching Kokushibo practically slash Genya's body. — "Your face is so...familiar to me. It makes me feel strange. Even though I appreciate you being here...it makes me sick to my stomach, makes me feel angry."

The woman's voice was comforting as if she were an angel singing a lullaby. If that situation wasn't catastrophic with Genya's life hanging by a thread, Muichiro could peacefully fall asleep with that voice.

Before Kokushibo rips off Genya's head, the Wind Hashira arrives and saves him at just the right moment.

As Kokushibo was thrown backwards at the moment of impact, (Name) took a deep breath and closed her eyes as her hair and kimono fabric swayed with its dense mist appearing as if it was coming out the back of her body and the ends of her hair.

It's time.

(...)

Despite being stronger than Douma and Akaza, (Name) was still weaker than Kokushibo. After all, she wasn't really a fighting demon.

Her abilities were similar to Nakime's, she was able to create an environment that she was sure humans could not on their own. Her mist had created the same starry night sky, the slayers present there knew that this was bad as the new environment was the work of the female demon, which would clearly favor Kokushibo in the fight.

During the fight, Sanemi seemed to enjoy having an opponent worth killing according to him, even if it was giving him trouble.

Thanks to the mist, neither the female demon nor the other two slayers could be seen. Though Genya seemed to be close and both he and Muichiro could feel the intense battle between Sanemi and the six-eyed demon.

After an attack by Kokushibo, in the midst of the mist pieces of sliced ​​pillars began to fall and Genya's eyes widened in terror as he saw his older brother standing, bleeding.

— "Aniki..." — He gasped.

The wreckage of pillars began to be "absorbed" by the mist. This is bad.

— "Hm... you held on for a long time... but it's over." — Kokushibo observed. — "If you move... your organs... will split..."

The six-eyed man felt his body go weird as he noticed his pulse change. Not only that, the mist seemed to get a little more unstable. Whatever is happening is also affecting (Name) too.

The white haired Hashira started to laugh. — "Rare blood to demons is like catnip." — He took the chance to attack Kokushibo, who staggered backwards. — "Oops man, what's the problem?! You look a little dizzy and this mist looks like it's going to dissolve!" — He laughed. — "The scent of my blood intoxicates the demons! This is the rarest blood among the rare! Feast time!"

(Name) needed to stay focused so that the mist field wouldn't dissolve, so she would take advantage of Kokushibo. She took a deep breath and the mist intensified as she regained her composure after the marechi scent faded, and she felt the demon and the slayer struggle.

Until a new presence appears in the territory and (Name) soon pull him into the mist as well.

— "They keep showing up..." — Kokushibo looked annoyed, despite remaining neutral in that situation.

The Hashira of the stone had joined the fight. Kokushibo was surprised to see a body as perfected as that in three hundred years.

The mist seemed to become a little restless again, but this time not because of (Name) but thanks to Gyomei's fighting moves.

When the chain wrapped itself around Kokushibo's neck - he was able to escape. - he realized that his flesh sword would be destroyed even before he broke Gyomei's weapons.

Despite everything, the mist still favored him making things difficult for Gyomei, who clearly realized the situation.

Meanwhile, Muichiro tried to escape from the wall, with great effort, but managed, falling to the floor panting. And after making the bandages he ran to help Genya, who asked him for the lock of hair ripped from Kokushibo.

— "I want to... fight until the end... I will protect the aniki... I don't want to let him die..." — The boy with the severed body said.

Muichiro nodded. — "Alright, let's fight together until the end. Now... we have to find and kill the demon woman."

"Kill me? How cute..." (Name) mentally chuckled.

Kokushibo and Gyomei clashed and Sanemi did her best to stop the mist from doing anything to itself while he fixed his injuries. Rising with hate in his eyes now with his mark activated.

— "It doesn't matter..." — Kokushibo counterattacked Gyomei. — "Even if we stay here... fighting for hours and hours... you will die anyway. After all... (Name) will absorb all of you through the mist little by little..."

So they had time. Gyomei thought along with Sanemi, who returned to the fight.

— "(Name)?" — Gyomei whispered, it must probably be the other demon he sensed, but he wasn't able to locate it thanks to the mist.

— "It's the wife!" — Muichiro's voice sounded close by. — "She must be killed for the mist to disappear! Genya and I will take care of her!"

Gyomei and Sanemi seemed to agree, even though the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Sanemi smiled and positioned. — "Good thing we did that training, huh Himejima-san?!"

— "Uhm."

"Kokushibo, (Name), how many hashiras have you two defeated? Don't let them get here yet."

Muzan's voice was heard by the demons. And (Name) tried to intensify her mist even more to help Kokushibo finish it soon, which required more concentration.

Whatever they were, it was the first time (Name) had seen such skilled hunters since the sengoku era.

For a moment she felt her pulse tremble, but soon she regained her composure as she felt that the real fight was only beginning after Kokushibo's sword extended absurdly.

Meanwhile, Oyakata-sama's sisters tried to observe the situation, but it was impossible thanks to the mist. But it was still possible to feel the tremor of the intense fight that was taking place.

Muichiro was trying to sense the presence of the other demon, looking for it through the mist behind some trail and even using the mist of his own breath to notice certain differences.

That's when he finally found her standing in the distance. (Name) was motionless and her hair was extremely taut, swaying and floating as if wind was blowing at it. Soon Muichiro noticed that strands of her hair were connected and fused with mist, which seemed to form from the ends.

The young Hashira tried to attack her as quickly as possible, she showed no reaction when Muichiro's blade was almost slicing through the woman's neck. That's when she opened her eyes and the boy felt chills as she stared straight at him.

— "Very slow."

Muichiro's blade slashed through (Name)'s neck as if he had tried to cut through a cloud. Muichiro fell to the ground not far away but tried to reposition himself again.

"I lost an arm and the bleeding is getting worse. I don't have much time." He thought.

Despite this, (Name)'s neck remained intact.

— "Stop looking at me, your face brings back memories, I don't want to remember..." — (Name) sighed, looking away.

Again Muichiro tried to use his breath to try to injure the woman, but to no avail, his blade continued to pierce through her body as if (Name) was made from the mist itself.

— "Your breathing... is quite interesting... matches my kekkijutsu."

Before (Name) could counterattack Muichiro, she felt her body being pierced by something small.

— "Hmm?" — She looked down and saw a small, round-shaped hole in the region of her right forearm.

Soon her body was trapped by roots.

"My body isn't going through this fucking tree..." (Name) mentally growled.

When she looked up she saw in the distance the same severed boy from before, who had consumed some of Kokushibo's hair and sword. The next moment he disappeared from there to help the Stone Hashira and Wind.

That feeling…she didn't like it at all.

Thanks to the conflict with (Name) the mist started to become unstable again, to the point that Muichiro was now able to see the fight involving the other male demon with the other three slayers.

The moment Kokushibo screamed, (Name) could feel that he felt the same way.

The woman glared at Muichiro and tried to make her mist rip him apart once and for all, but the boy managed to counterattack at the last moment with his own mist breath.

— "Your..."

"Okaa-san!"

— "...Huh?"

— "I..." — Muichiro stood up panting after (Name) was able to escape Genya's kekkijutsu. — "I didn't say anything… — He gritted his teeth.

That slayer's face... it was so familiar. It was identical to--

— "Okaa-san!" — The little boy laughed as he hugged his mother from behind.

— "..." — (Name) shivered. — "Stop looking at me..."

Muichiro advanced.

(Name)'s face seemed to fill with hatred and a wave of mist went towards Muichiro. — "I TOLD YOU TO TURN YOUR LOOK, TSUKIHIRO!"

Muichiro was able to dodge the attacks again, but one of them ended up ripping his leg off. But at the last moment his blade managed to reach (Name)'s neck as it turned red.

That face...

It's been over four hundred years... and for the first time, she remembered her son's face.

— "(NAME)!"

Half of Muichiro's body was severed, not by the mist, but by Kokushibo's blade.

The boy's body, still alive, fell to the ground, just as (Name's) head separated from her body to also fall to the ground.

The mist began to disappear definitively along the body of (Name), who was looking at Muichiro with tears in her eyes.

— "Tsuki... hiro..." — She whispered.

Muichiro used the last of his strength to drag himself to the woman's body and placed one of his hands under her back, silently. (Name) accepted this act.

Despite still being under threat from the other three slayers, Kokushibo watched (Name) disappear with silent tears welling up in his six eyes. The woman he loved was dying, and he couldn't change that.

The last thing (Name) saw before her head totally disappeared was Gyomei's destruction ball destroying Kokushibo's head, but instead of disappearing, he turned into a monster.

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(Name)'s eyes opened in a dark place that she knew was not her mist.

She turned her face in all directions in an attempt to find something or someone. Oh wait, that's right... she died. Is this the afterlife?

(Name) felt her arms get heavy and when she looked down, her eyes started to water as she saw what she was holding.

— "Tsuyami..." — The woman smiled in a whisper and hugged the baby.

Tsuyami... Unlike Tsukihiro, (Name) didn't see the baby go past the age of a newborn, which hurt her a lot just thinking about it. She must have aged and become a beautiful woman, (Name) prayed that she had found a good husband with children who loved her.

— "Okaa-san!"

This voice...

The four-year-old boy came running towards (Name) happily, hugging her by the legs.

— "Tsukihiro..." — (Name)'s tears began to stream down her face.

Tsukihiro's merry laughs and Tsuyami's babble filled that dark place.

The boy from before... Muichiro, was a descendant of Tsukihiro. Your lovely son, who must have grown into a gentle boy as he grew older.

— "We missed you!" — Tsukihiro smiled.

(Name) looked at him with sad eyes. — "Me too..."

The woman started to feel her arms become lighter as Tsuyami and Tsukihiro's bodies disappeared into a mist, leaving her there alone again. (Name) knelt down and leaned her face down with her hair falling over her and hugging herself. Now the sound of her tears and wailing was the only thing that could be heard there.

Of course, the woman would go to hell for the things she did. Her children were kind souls who should be kept in heaven.

Then she would be alone, all right… she would accept that.

— "(Name)...?"

Kokushibo's voice made the woman's face rise again.

If he's here... it means he lost too.

Her husband was in front of her, not Kokushibo, but Michikatsu. Now both of them are human again.

— "Michi..." — (Name) cried.

The man was quick to kneel in front of her and pull her into a protective hug. — "I'm sorry…" — He also cried. — "For everything... I'm sorry for everything... please forgive me..."

— "It wasn't your fault... you never forced me to do anything... everything I did for the last four hundred years was because I wanted to do it..." — Her head was against Michikatsu's chest, hugging her husband back.

— "If only I had never done that… if only I had never allowed all that hatred and envy to consume me…" — The man's embrace tightened a little more. — "Maybe you could have watched our children grow up! If only I hadn't made so many mistakes... maybe we both could have been happy..."

— "..." — (Name) held her husband's face and wiped away his tears. — "It's okay…" — She laughed even though her eyes were still sad. — "I think we were both idiots..."

Michikatsu was silent, but then he also gave a melancholy short laugh, and leaned his lips against his wife's forehead, pressing her even more against him in the embrace.

Then everything was covered by flames.

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There wasn't much to do, after all, from the very beginning happiness had already been denied to the two demons who were looking for power.

"CAW CAW! UPPER MOON ONE DEFEATED!"

In the infinito fortress, inside the huge cocoon of flesh, Muzan can't help but close his eyes and give a short laugh.

— "How pathetic."

8574 words

[artemiszy]

Hello, I hope you are having a great day/evening! I was wondering if there would be a good ending to the yandere Dōma with a Kocho reader?

Hi! Not really, i think if i make would just be reader being rescued by kanao or someone else while douma would have been defeated just like in canon, nothing much different

[artemiszy]

Hello! I don’t know if you are okay with writing for this character but can I request Kagaya Ubuyashiki x Wife Reader? Where it describes times she stay by his side and when they set the trap for Muzan, she refused to leave his side. No matter what, she refused to leave his side. Thank you!

TO THE LAST MOMENT | Kagaya Ubuyashiki x Wife!Reader

Kagaya Ubuyashiki x Wife!Reader

"Kagaya and his wife made a promise, and she was willing to go through with it."

WARNING. manga spoilers, Amane Ubuyashiki not exist here. FEMALE READER

Being a leader was a difficult mission. Kagaya knew this from his first thought.

And being born into the Ubuyashiki family was an even harder burden to bear. Bearing in mind that you would never make it past the age of thirty while living a mediocre life thanks to a curse, could be difficult to deal with.

It was at the age of four when Kagaya became leader of the demon slayer corps after the death of his father, at that time he was already able to understand that his destiny was already set.

At thirteen he met (Name), a shy girl whose voice was extremely rare to hear. Kagaya found out that she had lost her family to demons when she was seven years old, and has since been cared for by priests.

And despite being a shy and kind girl, deep down (Name) she strongly hated demons.

— "Won't you marry me?" — (Name) approached.

— "Hmm?" — Kagaya turned his face towards her, though confused, he kept his gentle smile.

She looked a little embarrassed and quickly looked down. — "I... I asked why you didn't want to marry me..." — Her voice sounded upset as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her own kimono.

Kagaya realized that this was a misunderstanding and tried to clarify things, not wanting the girl to be sad. — "What? No no…" — he continued. — "I just made it clear that I only wanted you to marry me of your own volition, and not because it was your obligation." — He smiled.

(Name)'s face lifted, still with a slightly uncertain expression, but that was soon softened when she noticed the gentle smile she received from the boy in front of her.

— "So... if I said I wanted to marry you willingly, would you?"

— "It is clear." — He nodded.

— "So…" — She flashed a small, shy smile. — "I would love to marry you."

For a short period of seconds after hearing those words, Kagaya felt a little surprised, bearing in mind that she knew about his family's condition and still wanted to marry him willingly.

It made his chest heat up.

— "So let's get married." — Kagaya felt happy.

(...)

Almost six months after they first met was when the marriage ceremony took place, despite the fact that Kagaya was still thirteen years old and (Name) was only a very few months older than him.

During the night after the ceremony they were alone again, with (Name) and Kagaya in the same room with her husband watching the starry sky with the huge full moon high above.

— "What are you doing?" — (Name) murmured carefully as he approached the mat.

Kagaya's face slowly turned around before responding with a peaceful expression and kind smile. — "I'm just looking at beautiful things that I know I'll miss the moment I completely lose my sight."

Now he was looking at her...

(Name) sighed, lowering his head. — "Right... the curse..." — She looked a little depressed, Kagaya realized that, and felt a little hesitant to ask.

— "You… don't really regret it?"

She lifted her face, looking straight into the lavender eyes of the boy in front of her. — "No... I don't regret it."

Kagaya felt relieved, and held her hand in silence, gazing at her face with full awareness that soon she would only see it in his own imagination as his body weakened.

— "I will never regret it, I will stay by your side until the last moment." — She smiled.

It was a pure smile. Then the couple shared a soft kiss.

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In recent years (Name) has been surprised by everything that is now happening. A slayer with hanafuda earrings appeared with a sister he swore was a good demon.

A demon that didn't eat humans...? Was that possible?

After the meeting where the boy came face to face with the Hashiras, Kagaya came to the conclusion that the demon girl could live. All putting their faith in those brothers and that could mean a good change for the slayers.

After all, Tanjiro Kamado has already come face to face with the Demon King as well.

(Name) decided to trust her husband's decision, believing that it was the best option to follow.

And he was right, fate seemed to work in the slayer' favor, with a price of course, the loss of many.

Until the final moment had arrived. The upper moons were being defeated and Kagaya knew the Demon King was approaching.

— "What did you say...?" — (Name) looked in disbelief, watching her husband in deplorable condition on the futon.

The curse was eating away at his body more and more.

— "Go away…" — Kagaya coughed. — "Take Hinaki and Nichika with you…" — he coughed again.

(Name) came over and put a cloth over her husband's mouth so he could cough, blood staining the white cloth on the woman's hands, but she didn't care.

— "I... I won't leave you alone here." — She replied firmly.

— "You don't understand..." — With difficulty and with support from (Name), Kagaya sat down on the futon. — "That man will be here soon..."

— "And I know what you plan. I won't leave you here alone."

Kagaya felt surprised and was speechless for a moment. — "...(Name)... please... I don't want you to participate in this..."

— "I'm not going away." — (Name) took her husband's hands. — "I promised you, I'll never leave. I won't leave you here alone."

Until the last moment, after all.

The demon king has arrived.

944 words

[artemiszy]

THERE IS NO HAPPINESS | Kokushibo X Wife!Reader

Kokushibo x Wife!Reader | One-shot

"Kokushibo was a man who made a lot of mistakes during his life, but loving his wife certainly wasn't one of them, even if she too made the same mistakes."

WARNING. angst, abandonment, weird relationship(?), swearing, death, light gore(I think), manga spoilers. FEMALE READER

The Toyosaki clan was known and prosperous thanks to its reputation for possessing the most beautiful and sweetest women. Sons were kept in their own clan, while daughters were promised to powerful leaders and strong samurai.

And with (Name) it was no different.

As the third daughter of the current clan head and his wife, (Name) was only ten years old when she was betrothed to the firstborn of another clan. It was to be expected, one of her older sisters was already married and the other was engaged too, (Name) just nodded when she got the news.

At least her future husband would be kind. (Name) shuddered to remember that one of her cousins ​​was unhappily married to a cruel, older man, but he was rich and had a reputation, and that was what mattered anyway...

(Name) was a silent child whose expression was always neutral towards everything around her, but she felt relieved when she was informed about the age of her future husband. A boy who was only two years older than (Name), a future samurai and leader. Until she was very curious to meet him.

It took about three or four months for (Name) to meet him in person, the day the clans got together to do business with each other. (Name) stayed with her eldest sister, the second daughter of Lord Toyosaki, who was fourteen years old, was the closest sister to (Name).

— "Nervous?" — Yuri's low words rang in (Name)'s ear.

(Name)'s face rose from her hands clasped under her folded legs above the mat, and she looked at her older sister. — "No."

Maybe it was a lie, after all, (Name) was in new territory, one that he would now live with more often.

— "I can see your little hands trembling, dear sister." — Yuri laughed as he tucked one of (Name)'s (h/c) behind her ear. — "Don't worry, I felt that way too the day I met Yoshimatsu-kun." — She smiled. — "You'll soon realize that things are going to work out for the best."

(Name) remembers that day, it was a year ago when during spring her sister Yuri went with her father and clan companions to officiate her engagement to Yoshimatsu of the Tanifuji clan. (Name) has yet to meet him as at that time she decided to stay with her mother, who could give birth to her younger brother at any time.

According to Yuri's words, Yoshimatsu was like one of the princes of the novels read by her sister, a kind man and a lover of the arts. (Name) still expected her future husband to be kind.

Now it was spring again.

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Her future husband's name was Michikatsu Tsugikuni. (Name) first saw him while walking through the engawa with her sister and other ladies, she saw him training with a master in the estate's garden. At that moment she didn't know it was him, although her eyes met and they both stared at each other for a few seconds before they were brought back to reality.

(Name) only found out a few moments after she was finally alone and overheard a conversation between handmaidens.

— "I feel bad for the Toyosaki girl." — One of the servants whispered to the other within a region of the residence.

(Name)'s footsteps stopped at these words. Wait, were they talking about her? The girl looked into the room carefully so as not to be seen thanks to the half-open door.

— "So it is." — The other agreed. — "How did Lord Toyosaki allow (Name)-sama to marry second choice?"

Those servants seemed not to want to be heard at all.

Second option?

— "Hey! Watch your words." — The first handmaiden gave a whispery cry.

— "But it's true, the stronger son fled and what was left for the Tsugikuni was to entrust the clan to the weaker son!"

— "But look on the bright side." — The other chuckled mischievously. — "With the arrival of the Toyosaki maybe we can meet some handsome boys from the clan..."

The servants laughed and talked to each other about trivial matters now, outside, (Name) was sitting on the floor leaning against a wall now a little far from the room, thinking about what she heard.

Strongest son? Weakest son?

She remembers only once hearing around that Michikatsu had a twin brother, but she ended up putting that aside as she wasn't interested.

— "What are you doing there?" — A boyish male voice caught the attention of (Name), when she looked at him she realized it was the same boy as before, until he widened his eyes when she looked at him with those big confused and beautiful eyes. — "(Name)-sama?!"

(Name) quickly got up and covered the boy's mouth making "shhh", then looking back to make sure the handmaids didn't hear, and seeing that they didn't, she grabbed the boy's hand and pulled him out of there.

— "What were you talking about there?" — The boy asked with a slight distress and concern in his voice.

— "I overheard a conversation and…" — (Name) looked right at the boy. — ...Hmm? Wait. Michikatsu-sama?"

— "Y-Yes..."

(Name) blinked. — "Oh."

The two were silent.

— "..."

— "..."

— "...So, you are my future wife...?"

— "...I am."

— "Oh."

— "..."

Michikatsu scratched his cheek and looked away with a faint pink blush appearing on his face. — "You... you're beautiful..."

— "..." — (Name) gave a small smile of happiness. — "Thanks."

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It was clear that (Name) wanted a love match, so she was happy when she was able to spend more time with her future husband thanks to certain meetings. Friendship became love in a matter of just a single year.

At sixteen, (Name) married Michikatsu. A year later she had her first child, Tsukihiro.

During this period of time, (Name) watched her husband become a stronger and more skilled man, she admired this, his dedication and talent, although she felt that sometimes something bothered her.

Two more years passed before Michikatsu approached (Name) with news.

— "(Name)..."

— "Hmm?" — (Name) looked at him as her finished feeding little Tsukihiro boiled rice.

There was also a small bulge in (Name)'s belly area below her kimono, indicating that she was expecting a baby in the next few months.

Her husband sighed and sat down on the mat beside her as Tsukihiro's face rejoiced to see his father.

— "My brother is back..." — Michikatsu informed her.

(Name) had a surprised reaction, she had already heard about Yoriichi, her husband's talented twin brother. Michikatsu talked about him in more detail at certain times, such as when Yoriichi had to live in a cubicle room and never said anything to the point where the twins' mother thought her youngest son was deaf.

Or when he ran away just so his brother wouldn't be left out.

— "(Name)..." — He began. — "Have you ever heard of demons?"

Demons. (Name) remembers hearing stories as a child of hungry beasts that fed on humans after sunset. Once, at dawn, Yuri approached (Name) in the dead of night and whispered about having heard around that a beast had torn apart a group of men in the southern mountains, it had been a terrible damage to be the work of animals.

Demons. That was the answer given by people considered crazy.

— "Once... when I was a kid... my father yelled at me and my sister when we mentioned demons." — (Name) whispered, looking down at the small bowl in her hands of nearly finished rice. — "He said we shouldn't talk nonsense."

— "They are real."

— "I know. I believe."

— "I was attacked by one."

(Name)'s eyes widened and she nearly dropped the bowl. Thanks to his samurai duties, Michikatsu often spent days and even weeks away. But (Name) could never have imagined that something related to demons would have happened this last time.

Wait, is that why Yoriichi came back?

— "I lost all my men in a demonic attack, that's when my brother arrived in time and saved me..."

— "What?" — (Name) dropped the bowl on the chabudai table as Tsukihiro was too busy playing with his father's hair to finish eating or even think about listening to the conversation between the adults. — "How did he do it?"

Michikatsu sighed as he felt a slight tug on his ponytail. — "He used a sword with a nichirin blade and... a breath."

— "Breath?"

— "You won't understand if you start to explain... but know that it's something powerful that helps to kill demons." — Michikatsu explained. — "There is a corps of swordsmen who hunt and kill demons, my brother is there and taught the other men derivations of his breath." — He seemed a little hesitant to continue. — "And I decided to join them."

(Name) was speechless, kept her gaze calm. That was dangerous, her husband would be at risk if he went. No…he was strong, one of the strongest she'd ever seen. He could manage, after all, he wouldn't be alone, his brother and companions would be there.

He's going to be fine... or at least that's what (Name) deeply prayed for.

— "I... I..." — (Name) tried to start a sentence.

— "From your reaction I don't think it's something you liked very much." — Michikatsu took a deep breath as he relaxed his body and tilted his head up.

— "I won't deny it, I didn't like that idea very much." — (Name) pulled her adorable restless son close to her so he could finish his meal and then sleep. — "I worry about you..."

Michikatsu tilted his face towards her, gave a small smile and approached her. — "Do not worry, I'll be fine." — He held (Name)'s porcelain face and placed a kiss on her lips, hearing an "eeew" from Tsukihiro. — "Don't you trust me?"

— "I trust, of course I trust!" — (Name) seemed to hesitate a little. — "B-But..." — She felt her baby move in her womb, perhaps because she was a little nervous to imagine her husband in the midst of demons, enemies much more dangerous and powerful than humans.

— "I'll be fine." — Michikatsu leaned his forehead against his wife's while still caressing her face.

— "You'll be back all right, promise?"

— "Promise."

The moment Michikatsu left, (Name) felt a tug on the fabric of the kimono on her shoulder.

— "Okaa-san!" — Tsukihiro exclaimed with a mouth full of rice. — "Where Otou-san is going?"

(Name) laughed and wiped her son's mouth, finding it adorable that he is so playful and already knows how to speak several words, even if he sometimes misses the pronunciation.

— "Work, dear…" — She smiled and hugged her son. — "You're going to miss him, aren't you?"

— "Uhm..." — Tsukihiro grumbled with his face buried in his mother's kimono.

— "Me too..."

Even though she believed in her husband, (Name) didn't feel a good feeling.

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Her husband's presence became less frequent, (Name) received news about Michikatsu's status at the hunters' headquarters and felt relieved that he was well.

However (Name) was furious and devastated when Michikatsu failed to attend the birth of Tsuyami, her newborn daughter.

It didn't take long for her to realize that something was really wrong. Michikatsu's gaze and the way his lips seemed to spit out his twin's name... (Name) recognized that this was not normal, and her suspicions were reinforced when she found her husband in a grueling training session during the night.

— "Michikatsu?" — (Name) strained her eyes to see under the rain her husband soaked by the drops but not letting go of the sword he used to slash the air.

He did not answer.

— "Michikatsu... what are you doing there at this hour?" — (Name) sighed with concern. — "Please... go back inside, I don't want you to get sick."

Again there was no response.

— "Michi--"

— "I have to become stronger..."

— "Hm?"

— "My brother... I have to get over him..." — Michikatsu growled in a mutter.

— "...What?" — (Name) squeezed the handle of the intern. — "...Michikatsu, go back inside." — Her voice was more serious.

Again there was no response, and the samurai continued to slash at the non-existent opponent with his blade.

(Name) dropped her flashlight on the engawa floor and walked quickly across the wet lawn to her husband in the rain, getting wet in the process, but that was not important.

— "Listen me!" — She grabbed Michikatsu's wrist. — "Stop it! You're already crossing the line! I don't want you to harm yourself!" — Her look was incredulous for that situation. — "How long have you been doing this, huh?!"

— "(Name)... go back inside." — He growled.

— "No!" — Her voice was raised as she brushed strands of wet hair from her face thanks to the rain. — "Look at you! Your training is too intense! It's going to end up hurting you!"

— "Fuck!" — Michikatsu turned to face her. — "I need to become stronger than my brother!" — He yelled.

(Name) blinked with a confused face, before her writhed in rage again. — "So that's it?! You'd die if it made you better than your brother by any chance?! What's on your mind?! You're obsessed!"

Michikatsu's jaw clenched.

— "This... this is madness..." — Now (Name)'s voice was one of sadness, melancholy. — "I don't want you to keep hurting yourself..."

He was hurting himself… gnawing and eating away at his blood and sweat and even his last hair to make himself stronger. While his younger brother didn't need any of that.

He was already strong without even training.

That thought was a reminder, and it made Michikatsu furious.

(...)

Days passed, Michikatsu left on a mission and no further news. (Name) feared the worst.

Until when a whole week has graduated, he comes back.

— "Michi?" — (Name) wept with relief to see her husband appear in the doorway.

Tsukihiro rejoices and tries to hug his father's leg, but the grown man walks in a specific direction, ignoring both his children and his wife. The now four year old boy stands static in the same place where his father was before, his face surprised and even in shock at how rough Michikatsu was when he passed by.

— "..." — (Name) looked in the direction Michikatsu had gone. — "Michi! What was that?"

No reply.

— "Otou-san!" — Tsukihiro ran after Michikatsu, disappearing from (Name)'s sight.

(Name) looked down into her arms and saw her daughter fidgeting and whimpering. Before she could get up and go after her son and husband, both of them appear, Tsukihiro trying to call out to Michikatsu and being ignored by him.

— "Michikatsu, why are you ignoring him?" — (Name) asks with concern, feeling the sadness in her son.

He ignores her.

— "Hey!" — (Name) gets up carefully so as not to disturb Tsuyami. — "Why do not you speak?"

— "Otou-san!" — Tsukihiro tries to get his father's attention by pulling on his hakama pants, but the boy just fell back when Michikatsu opened the shoji door without even looking back.

— "Goodbye."

Michikatsu Tsugikuni disappeared after that night.

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Everything was in chaos. Michikatsu's disappearance and his alleged family abandonment had thrown everything into chaos.

Tsukihiro couldn't stop crying and asking where his father was, and his crying resulted in Tsuyami crying. (Name) didn't know what to do, of all there she was certainly the most broken. Her husband left her without a word, left her and her children.

Things got even more tense when Yoriichi showed up at her house to let her know what happened.

Michikatsu abandoned his humanity and was now a demon. (Name) couldn't help but cry, Yoriichi gave her a shoulder for it.

And things got even worse when at the door of her property appeared other slayers demanding that (Name) commit sepukku with Yoriichi thanks to what Michikatsu have done.

(Name) thought about it, but who was she kidding? She wouldn't have the courage.

Two months passed. Two months of pure pain and conflict. During this period of time things became tense internally, Tsukihiro was supposed to become the next head of the clan as Michikatsu had been presumed "dead" and Yoriichi... well, Yoriichi was no longer an option. Tsukihiro was still too young for that, a child barely five years old, so much trouble.

(Name) just couldn't handle the whole situation, the pressure of her "new" clan and the abandonment of her husband, to make matters worse, she still had to live with the comments of people who found her situation funny.

Sometimes (Name) wished these people would die.

Her only hope now was her children, her only joy, though Tsukihiro was still upset and Tsuyami was too young to even understand what was happening. (Name) was doing her best to keep them well.

(...)

Things changed again a few days after the arrival of spring, this time in a much more drastic and intense way.

— "Nice night, don't you think?"

The unfamiliar male voice made (Name)'s eyes widen. The voice had a soft tone but there was still something about it that made its owner scream danger.

(Name) released the flower from the mansion's garden and turned her face towards the subject. He was a man much taller than she was, a handsome man she had never seen before. Curly black hair and eyes the brightest blood red.

How did he get in here?

— "Who are you...?"

The man smiled, a smile that despite looking friendly was still an evil smile. — "I am the one known as the Demon King."

Muzan Kibutsuji.

Silence. Total silence with only the noise of crickets and owls.

A wind hit (Name)'s face before she could say anything. — "...Why are you here?"

— "Your husband misses you." — The man's laugh made her shiver.

(Name) felt her chest tighten at the mention of her husband, but she tried to remain steadfast in the face of the whole situation. She knew how dangerous the Demon King was, Yoriichi had warned her.

— "That... that doesn't answer my question."

Still looking satisfied with the situation, Muzan took a few slow steps forward with the intention of getting a few meters closer to the woman.

— "Why don't you become a demon?"

— "What?"

— "I've been watching you for a while after I got Kokushibo, and I have to admit... you would be a great demon."

It was as if there was venom in his voice, those words were mean and there wasn't an ounce of genuineness in them. He was trying to manipulate her. After what Yoriichi did to Muzan, it was clear that he would need allies.

— "..." — (Name) stared at him without reaction.

— 'Think about it, you will be strong and fear nothing more." — The man's voice was strangely anxious. — "You will never grow old and will remain young for all eternity."

(Name)'s face lowered, her gaze fixed on the lawn as her hand trembled slightly, squeezing the hem of her kimono.

She knew she had no choice, by the time the Demon King appeared before her she was already doomed. Muzan wasn't the type to take a "no" and walk away. No... (Name) was smart enough to understand what would happen. He would kill her and then annihilate everyone on this property.

Including Tsukihiro and Tsuyami.

And it had been almost a month since the last time Yoriichi showed up, he wouldn't be able to help anyone in that situation.

It was the moment (Name) felt Muzan's hand enter her chest and pump his blood that she realized that maybe she wasn't that different from her husband.

She blacked out.

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A again everything has changed.

(Name) did not have the courage to appear to her children after that night, she was afraid that they would fear her or that she would hurt them. So she stood in the shadows watching everything, shedding tears at the loss of the sparkle in Tsukihiro's eyes after losing his mother and father in such a short period of time, before such a joyful and full of life child.

Like Michikatsu, (Name) was also presumed dead. It was at her "funeral" that (Name) saw her sister Yuri for the first time in so long.

She had to walk away after that day.

Meanwhile Michikatsu, no... Kokushibo, now the demon who craved more and more for power to overcome his brother no matter what, his vision was clouded by hatred and rancor that only realized that sixty years had passed when he found his brother again.

A old man, but alive, and even stronger than his brother.

Kokushibo was furious. Why was his brother still alive?! He should have died years ago for the mark!

He got even angrier when even old, his brother managed to hurt him. Nothing changed.

But his mind became even more clouded when the attack that would kill him never came, as Yoriichi had died standing up with his sword still in hand. That's when he realized that not even that man could defeat him, no one could even hurt him.

He made his older brother feel pathetic.

Kokushibo's mind screamed in rage as he cut the other twin's already dead body in two. But his mind was cleared when he saw the flute fall to the ground.

— "I think of that flute you gave me... as if it were you, brother." — A young Yoriichi smiled at the flute in his hands.

— "..."

— "I made a flute for my brother a few years ago, you know?" — A thirteen-year-old Michikatsu smiled at a (Name) of the same age as he practiced with his wooden sword.

— "Serious?" — She smiled. — "How cute! You really love your brother, don't you?"

Yoriichi... (Name)...

— "What did you do?"

That familiar voice... The man felt as if his body had stopped working for a moment.

He looked back over his shoulder and his six eyes widened at the sight of that familiar figure beneath the red moon. There she was, just as he had last seen her. The same simple yet beautiful kimono; the soft skin and delicate face; the same hair (h/c).

She looked at him with an emotionless face but at the same time there seemed to be surprise in those eyes. Those eyes that now distinguished that she was no longer human. The whites of her eyes had been replaced by black and the iris of her eyes were now white instead of (e/c).

Despite everything, she still remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

— "...(Name)..."

She did not answer. Instead her eyes were empty but not from sadness or melancholy, it was as if she had forgotten what it felt like to feel something. There was nothing in those eyes.

(Name) just passed by Kokushibo to see Yoriichi's body. — "Bury him, at least give him a decent burial."

Yoriichi was his brother after all.

He could feel it, that woman was a strong demon, something that had killed so many people.

During the short period of time that both of them got together to bury the dead man's body, neither of them said a word, although Kokushibo felt the burning in his chest to confront her, even though at no point did she look at him in the face.

The two buried Yoriichi in the same spot that his now-deceased wife had been buried. Then (Name) disappeared along with a mist that was probably part of her kekkijutsu.

Now husband and wife were two strangers.

(...)

About fifty more years passed. Things change again. Kokushibo, who now held the rank of "upper moon one" received the information that there was a demon rising very fast in the hierarchy, and that he was currently in the rank of "upper four".

Another year later and the demon has risen to "upper three".

Another year and the demon has risen to "upper two".

Afterwards Kokushibo received news that this demon had now become powerful enough to share the rank of "upper one" with him. And that left him seething with hatred.

Who was the bastard who was able to match his strength with his?

His bad thoughts faded and were replaced by surprise when Kokushibo was finally introduced to the demon.

And there she was again. With the same emotionless face and empty eyes.

— "(Name)..."

She didn't answer, but she blinked.

— "When did it get so strong?"

— "Just like you."

The more they feed, the more powerful the demons get. And by how quickly (Name) rose through the ranks it can only mean that she killed a lot of people at once.

You could see in the depths of those soft but opaque eyes, (Name) was a demon that craved power, a blank crockery, there was no emotion on her face other than the desire to have more strength.

And despite being his wife, Kokushibo would not allow (Name) to surpass him as a demon in the same way that Yoriichi surpassed him as a human.

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— "Ara ara~ (Name)-chan is always so serious!" — Douma's irritating voice rang out.

— "Shut up, worm." — Akaza growled.

(Name) just ignored the fight of those two annoying demons in the distance and remained with her eyes closed and an ethereal posture sitting on the mat.

The emergence of Muzan's presence made Akaza and Douma settle down before they lost their heads. (Name) opened her eyes when she felt him close by.

— "Any news on the blue spider lily?"

The demons' negative responses seemed to irritate Muzan. So long and still nothing.

He continued. — "You good-for-nothings are useless." — Muzan growled. — "I should eliminate them once and for all."

The upper moons present at the place felt as if their cells were going to explode, and that hurt a lot, (Name) had to admit, even though she had already gotten used to it thanks to Muzan's temper. When the man seemed to calm down the pain left.

That situation was already common. Muzan would come and ask about such a flower, and when the demons didn't bring answers that pleased him then he would get angry saying things like "I will destroy you all".

Kokushibo looked to the side so that she could see (Name), whose eyes were fixed on the ground. Despite everything, she was still beautiful.

When the noise of the biwa sounded, Kokushibo was now in the middle of a forest in front of an empty rice field. Next to him was (Name) sitting on a large boulder. It was rare for them to be alone together, and for the first time, (Name) didn't leave. She sat there with her eyes closed feeling the cool breeze hit her face.

— "Do you feel it?" — She muttered with her head tilted up.

— "..."

She silenced him by opening her eyes abruptly and leaning her face forward again. — "Shh."

The two were silent, until Kokushibo felt something too.

— "Humans. Nearby." — And then she disappeared again in her mist kekkijutsu.

A few meters away was a group of slayers who seemed to be looking for demons, they didn't look more than twenty years old.

— "Yeah man!" — One of them yelled and scratched his ear. — "I saw a demon pass this way!"

— "Are you sure it wasn't just a boar?" — Another rolled his eyes, tired of the whole situation and wanting to go back to the old village in the interest of seeing some pretty girls.

— "Forget it!" — Another one exclaimed, already irritated. — "Leave the demons alone!" — He snorted. — "Let's go before this mist intensifies!"

— "Wait, mist?"

By the time they finally realized that there was a dark fog surrounding them it was too late. The texture of the mist was similar to clouds, but it seemed to contain twinkling stars, until the mist covered them completely until it looked like the slayers had been transported to a "dimension" of a starry night sky.

— "What the hell is that...?" — One of them looked like he was going to get his pants dirty.

— "A demon!" — He took up his sword. — "Keep alert!"

The darkness mixed with the mist was extremely dense to the point that no human would be able to see anything. The last thing they saw was the flash of a sword's blade cut.

When the mist stopped, the slayers returned to the forest with lifeless bodies.

— "I could have done it without you." — (Name) muttered.

— "Hm."

She just sighed and approached the bodies, there were six in total.

— "Marechi..." — Kokushibo threw one of the bodies in front of (Name). — "You can... you can have this..."

(Name) blinked a little in surprise, as demons didn't usually share their dead prey, let alone marechi. Even if they were the targets of (Name) and Kokushibo he had just meddled.

It was okay, after all… he still had a lot to redeem himself if he wanted her forgiveness. If he ever had.

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Things got weird for the demons when the upper moon six died and shortly thereafter upper five and four as well. For the first time in a hundred years things have changed again, not in a good way for the demons, apparently.

Now only Muzan and his last upper moons remained, Nakime had become the upper four and Kaigaku - a boy who was turned into a demon after his encounter with the upper moon one, felt intimidated and realized he wouldn't have chances to win, knelt in front of Kokushibo accepting his blood while (Name) watched everything from behind. - It had risen in rank and was now in the upper moon six position.

Either way, they've kept to the shadows since discovering a demon that can beat the sun. Who knows what Muzan was planning.

In the sprawling hall full of columns was the spot that (Name) chose to think a little, not long before he came across her ranking companion.

Her husband.

— "Do you feel it?" — He asked in his usual distant voice.

(Name) raised her face and looked at him in silence.

— "It started." — She said.

The slayers were in the infinite fortress. It was only a matter of time before they reached the upper moon one.

Things were changing, now it was fate's turn to decide whether the last upper moons would live or die as their "companions". And if fate were truly merciful, no demons would make it through this night.

Despite keeping in mind that it was one of the strongest demons, still, deep down behind his neutral face, (Name) feared for a moment. Kokushibo sensed this and looked straight at her.

— "(Name)..." — He called out to her, and she looked at him again. — "Before... this all started... I wanted to ask you... why did you become a demon..."

She didn't respond right away, instead looking down at the floor.

— "I... I don't know..." — She replied. — "At first I was scared... I didn't want to accept the change and I even thought that things could be different but... it wasn't worth it. In the end, I just didn't want to die."

Kokushibo listened in silence. — "I see..." — He also averted his eyes to another direction other than the woman beside her. — "I allowed all my hatred for my brother to blind me to the point of leaving for more power…" — Pause. — "My biggest regret... was not coming back for you that night..."

In the end, there was nothing to complain about after all, they weren't that different.

The conversation of the two demons was interrupted as a human presence grew closer and closer.

The moment a young slayer fell from the shattered ceiling and stopped in front of the pair of demons, (Name) felt a strange sensation as her laid eyes on him.

— "You're here... demon slayer..." — Kokushibo started and put his hand on the katana bar, until he finally realized the same thing that (Name) had felt. — "Hm...? For some reason... you look very... familiar..."

(Name) agreed, still in a certain trance thanks to that feeling.

Kokushibo's six eyes narrowed with a calm expression. — "I imagined... now I understand..."

The slayer was silent as if there was a conflict in his mind. The presence of the demons was intimidating, the boy tried to pull his sword but he didn't stop shaking. It was as if there was a dangerous aura in that place.

Very dangerous.

— "What is your name...?

— "...Muichiro Tokito."

— "Right then... the name Tsugikuni must have disappeared then..." — The six-eyed demon looked thoughtful.

For a moment, (Name) felt like her body was going to fall, that feeling...

The female demon stopped her gaze in the direction of the young slayer meters away. That face… it looked like a face she'd long since forgotten about.

No... it can't be...

— "...Tsugikuni? Who was it?" — Muichiro seemed to notice the tension in the demon woman.

— "It's been centuries after all... it was inevitable... my name when I was human was Michikatsu Tsugikuni..."

Michikatsu... it had been ages since (Name) had heard that name out loud...

— "And she remained (Name)..." — The six-eyed demon continued. — "You... are a descendant of a member of the Tsugikuni family that we left behind..."

The Tsukihiro's descendant.

"Okaa-san!"

Muichiro was in shock, trying to process everything he had just heard from the male demon, who remained motionless and unsurprised. The woman on the other hand, despite trying to stand her ground and stoic like the other demon, was clearly just as surprised as the young Hashira, even looking bewildered as if she was going to fall.

As if she was going to cry.

Her mind must have been in a mess. But (Name) tried to put her emotions aside to focus on what was to come.

And the fight began.

The boy's breathing was similar to (Name's) kekkijutsu, so it wasn't that difficult for her to adapt, even if the woman had no intentions of attacking.

At least not yet.

When the mark appeared on Muichiro's face, his attack seemed to get stronger, but it still wasn't enough to defeat the pair of demons. And the moment Kokushibo played his own blade, one of Muichiro's hands flew away.

The next mist was not from Muichiro, but from that woman, who surrounded him preventing him from seeing anything. In the next moment Kokushibo threw him against a pillar keeping the boy there trapped by his own sword.

The mist cleared and (Name) approached the boy standing next to the other demon.

— "Our descendant..." — Kokushibo began. — "Allow me to turn you into a demon... so that you can be of use to that man."

— "It is surprising that you are our descendant…" — (Name) sighed. — "I feel even... happy about it. I'm glad you were born. So there's nothing to fear..."

Kokushibo agreed. — "Let me stop the bleeding... humans are so fragile."

(Name)'s eyes closed a little in anger as she noticed that the hidden slayer really thought she and Kokushibo hadn't noticed him there.

Genya tried to shoot the demons but his arm fell off.

— "GENYAAA!" — Muichiro yelled and tried to break free.

— "Be silent…" — (Name) scolded him. — "Screaming will hurt your vocal cords..."

Despite keeping his eyes fixed on Genya, Muichiro seemed to be listening intently to everything the woman said.

— "You know... you really remind me a lot of someone..." — (Name) sighed, watching Kokushibo practically slash Genya's body. — "Your face is so...familiar to me. It makes me feel strange. Even though I appreciate you being here...it makes me sick to my stomach, makes me feel angry."

The woman's voice was comforting as if she were an angel singing a lullaby. If that situation wasn't catastrophic with Genya's life hanging by a thread, Muichiro could peacefully fall asleep with that voice.

Before Kokushibo rips off Genya's head, the Wind Hashira arrives and saves him at just the right moment.

As Kokushibo was thrown backwards at the moment of impact, (Name) took a deep breath and closed her eyes as her hair and kimono fabric swayed with its dense mist appearing as if it was coming out the back of her body and the ends of her hair.

It's time.

(...)

Despite being stronger than Douma and Akaza, (Name) was still weaker than Kokushibo. After all, she wasn't really a fighting demon.

Her abilities were similar to Nakime's, she was able to create an environment that she was sure humans could not on their own. Her mist had created the same starry night sky, the slayers present there knew that this was bad as the new environment was the work of the female demon, which would clearly favor Kokushibo in the fight.

During the fight, Sanemi seemed to enjoy having an opponent worth killing according to him, even if it was giving him trouble.

Thanks to the mist, neither the female demon nor the other two slayers could be seen. Though Genya seemed to be close and both he and Muichiro could feel the intense battle between Sanemi and the six-eyed demon.

After an attack by Kokushibo, in the midst of the mist pieces of sliced ​​pillars began to fall and Genya's eyes widened in terror as he saw his older brother standing, bleeding.

— "Aniki..." — He gasped.

The wreckage of pillars began to be "absorbed" by the mist. This is bad.

— "Hm... you held on for a long time... but it's over." — Kokushibo observed. — "If you move... your organs... will split..."

The six-eyed man felt his body go weird as he noticed his pulse change. Not only that, the mist seemed to get a little more unstable. Whatever is happening is also affecting (Name) too.

The white haired Hashira started to laugh. — "Rare blood to demons is like catnip." — He took the chance to attack Kokushibo, who staggered backwards. — "Oops man, what's the problem?! You look a little dizzy and this mist looks like it's going to dissolve!" — He laughed. — "The scent of my blood intoxicates the demons! This is the rarest blood among the rare! Feast time!"

(Name) needed to stay focused so that the mist field wouldn't dissolve, so she would take advantage of Kokushibo. She took a deep breath and the mist intensified as she regained her composure after the marechi scent faded, and she felt the demon and the slayer struggle.

Until a new presence appears in the territory and (Name) soon pull him into the mist as well.

— "They keep showing up..." — Kokushibo looked annoyed, despite remaining neutral in that situation.

The Hashira of the stone had joined the fight. Kokushibo was surprised to see a body as perfected as that in three hundred years.

The mist seemed to become a little restless again, but this time not because of (Name) but thanks to Gyomei's fighting moves.

When the chain wrapped itself around Kokushibo's neck - he was able to escape. - he realized that his flesh sword would be destroyed even before he broke Gyomei's weapons.

Despite everything, the mist still favored him making things difficult for Gyomei, who clearly realized the situation.

Meanwhile, Muichiro tried to escape from the wall, with great effort, but managed, falling to the floor panting. And after making the bandages he ran to help Genya, who asked him for the lock of hair ripped from Kokushibo.

— "I want to... fight until the end... I will protect the aniki... I don't want to let him die..." — The boy with the severed body said.

Muichiro nodded. — "Alright, let's fight together until the end. Now... we have to find and kill the demon woman."

"Kill me? How cute..." (Name) mentally chuckled.

Kokushibo and Gyomei clashed and Sanemi did her best to stop the mist from doing anything to itself while he fixed his injuries. Rising with hate in his eyes now with his mark activated.

— "It doesn't matter..." — Kokushibo counterattacked Gyomei. — "Even if we stay here... fighting for hours and hours... you will die anyway. After all... (Name) will absorb all of you through the mist little by little..."

So they had time. Gyomei thought along with Sanemi, who returned to the fight.

— "(Name)?" — Gyomei whispered, it must probably be the other demon he sensed, but he wasn't able to locate it thanks to the mist.

— "It's the wife!" — Muichiro's voice sounded close by. — "She must be killed for the mist to disappear! Genya and I will take care of her!"

Gyomei and Sanemi seemed to agree, even though the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Sanemi smiled and positioned. — "Good thing we did that training, huh Himejima-san?!"

— "Uhm."

"Kokushibo, (Name), how many hashiras have you two defeated? Don't let them get here yet."

Muzan's voice was heard by the demons. And (Name) tried to intensify her mist even more to help Kokushibo finish it soon, which required more concentration.

Whatever they were, it was the first time (Name) had seen such skilled hunters since the sengoku era.

For a moment she felt her pulse tremble, but soon she regained her composure as she felt that the real fight was only beginning after Kokushibo's sword extended absurdly.

Meanwhile, Oyakata-sama's sisters tried to observe the situation, but it was impossible thanks to the mist. But it was still possible to feel the tremor of the intense fight that was taking place.

Muichiro was trying to sense the presence of the other demon, looking for it through the mist behind some trail and even using the mist of his own breath to notice certain differences.

That's when he finally found her standing in the distance. (Name) was motionless and her hair was extremely taut, swaying and floating as if wind was blowing at it. Soon Muichiro noticed that strands of her hair were connected and fused with mist, which seemed to form from the ends.

The young Hashira tried to attack her as quickly as possible, she showed no reaction when Muichiro's blade was almost slicing through the woman's neck. That's when she opened her eyes and the boy felt chills as she stared straight at him.

— "Very slow."

Muichiro's blade slashed through (Name)'s neck as if he had tried to cut through a cloud. Muichiro fell to the ground not far away but tried to reposition himself again.

"I lost an arm and the bleeding is getting worse. I don't have much time." He thought.

Despite this, (Name)'s neck remained intact.

— "Stop looking at me, your face brings back memories, I don't want to remember..." — (Name) sighed, looking away.

Again Muichiro tried to use his breath to try to injure the woman, but to no avail, his blade continued to pierce through her body as if (Name) was made from the mist itself.

— "Your breathing... is quite interesting... matches my kekkijutsu."

Before (Name) could counterattack Muichiro, she felt her body being pierced by something small.

— "Hmm?" — She looked down and saw a small, round-shaped hole in the region of her right forearm.

Soon her body was trapped by roots.

"My body isn't going through this fucking tree..." (Name) mentally growled.

When she looked up she saw in the distance the same severed boy from before, who had consumed some of Kokushibo's hair and sword. The next moment he disappeared from there to help the Stone Hashira and Wind.

That feeling…she didn't like it at all.

Thanks to the conflict with (Name) the mist started to become unstable again, to the point that Muichiro was now able to see the fight involving the other male demon with the other three slayers.

The moment Kokushibo screamed, (Name) could feel that he felt the same way.

The woman glared at Muichiro and tried to make her mist rip him apart once and for all, but the boy managed to counterattack at the last moment with his own mist breath.

— "Your..."

"Okaa-san!"

— "...Huh?"

— "I..." — Muichiro stood up panting after (Name) was able to escape Genya's kekkijutsu. — "I didn't say anything… — He gritted his teeth.

That slayer's face... it was so familiar. It was identical to--

— "Okaa-san!" — The little boy laughed as he hugged his mother from behind.

— "..." — (Name) shivered. — "Stop looking at me..."

Muichiro advanced.

(Name)'s face seemed to fill with hatred and a wave of mist went towards Muichiro. — "I TOLD YOU TO TURN YOUR LOOK, TSUKIHIRO!"

Muichiro was able to dodge the attacks again, but one of them ended up ripping his leg off. But at the last moment his blade managed to reach (Name)'s neck as it turned red.

That face...

It's been over four hundred years... and for the first time, she remembered her son's face.

— "(NAME)!"

Half of Muichiro's body was severed, not by the mist, but by Kokushibo's blade.

The boy's body, still alive, fell to the ground, just as (Name's) head separated from her body to also fall to the ground.

The mist began to disappear definitively along the body of (Name), who was looking at Muichiro with tears in her eyes.

— "Tsuki... hiro..." — She whispered.

Muichiro used the last of his strength to drag himself to the woman's body and placed one of his hands under her back, silently. (Name) accepted this act.

Despite still being under threat from the other three slayers, Kokushibo watched (Name) disappear with silent tears welling up in his six eyes. The woman he loved was dying, and he couldn't change that.

The last thing (Name) saw before her head totally disappeared was Gyomei's destruction ball destroying Kokushibo's head, but instead of disappearing, he turned into a monster.

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(Name)'s eyes opened in a dark place that she knew was not her mist.

She turned her face in all directions in an attempt to find something or someone. Oh wait, that's right... she died. Is this the afterlife?

(Name) felt her arms get heavy and when she looked down, her eyes started to water as she saw what she was holding.

— "Tsuyami..." — The woman smiled in a whisper and hugged the baby.

Tsuyami... Unlike Tsukihiro, (Name) didn't see the baby go past the age of a newborn, which hurt her a lot just thinking about it. She must have aged and become a beautiful woman, (Name) prayed that she had found a good husband with children who loved her.

— "Okaa-san!"

This voice...

The four-year-old boy came running towards (Name) happily, hugging her by the legs.

— "Tsukihiro..." — (Name)'s tears began to stream down her face.

Tsukihiro's merry laughs and Tsuyami's babble filled that dark place.

The boy from before... Muichiro, was a descendant of Tsukihiro. Your lovely son, who must have grown into a gentle boy as he grew older.

— "We missed you!" — Tsukihiro smiled.

(Name) looked at him with sad eyes. — "Me too..."

The woman started to feel her arms become lighter as Tsuyami and Tsukihiro's bodies disappeared into a mist, leaving her there alone again. (Name) knelt down and leaned her face down with her hair falling over her and hugging herself. Now the sound of her tears and wailing was the only thing that could be heard there.

Of course, the woman would go to hell for the things she did. Her children were kind souls who should be kept in heaven.

Then she would be alone, all right… she would accept that.

— "(Name)...?"

Kokushibo's voice made the woman's face rise again.

If he's here... it means he lost too.

Her husband was in front of her, not Kokushibo, but Michikatsu. Now both of them are human again.

— "Michi..." — (Name) cried.

The man was quick to kneel in front of her and pull her into a protective hug. — "I'm sorry…" — He also cried. — "For everything... I'm sorry for everything... please forgive me..."

— "It wasn't your fault... you never forced me to do anything... everything I did for the last four hundred years was because I wanted to do it..." — Her head was against Michikatsu's chest, hugging her husband back.

— "If only I had never done that… if only I had never allowed all that hatred and envy to consume me…" — The man's embrace tightened a little more. — "Maybe you could have watched our children grow up! If only I hadn't made so many mistakes... maybe we both could have been happy..."

— "..." — (Name) held her husband's face and wiped away his tears. — "It's okay…" — She laughed even though her eyes were still sad. — "I think we were both idiots..."

Michikatsu was silent, but then he also gave a melancholy short laugh, and leaned his lips against his wife's forehead, pressing her even more against him in the embrace.

Then everything was covered by flames.

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There wasn't much to do, after all, from the very beginning happiness had already been denied to the two demons who were looking for power.

"CAW CAW! UPPER MOON ONE DEFEATED!"

In the infinito fortress, inside the huge cocoon of flesh, Muzan can't help but close his eyes and give a short laugh.

— "How pathetic."

8574 words

[artemiszy]

LOVE ME FOR ALL ETERNITY | Yandere!Douma X Kocho!Reader

Yandere!Douma x Kocho!Reader | One-shot

"Where Douma falls in love with the middle butterfly sister and will do anything to have her for himself."

WARNING. Yandere, toxic/abusive relationship, depression, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, stalking, swearing, manipulation, mangá spoilers, death. FEMALE READER

Despite his feigned cheerful personality and amusing humor, the powerful upper moon two was nothing more than an empty shell. He didn't hesitate to say what he thought and claim that gods didn't exist.

His thoughts have remained the same for two hundred years, or rather... ever since he came into being, in fact. Ever since his greedy parents started using him to trick people desperate for some divine help and get some money out of them, claiming that their son was a miracle who had the ability to hear the voices of the gods, just because the boy had rare eyes... A silly lie but... it seemed to work.

Pretend was a word Douma knew well and knew how to put to good use. After all, he always pretended, all his life. He didn't hear the voices of gods, so why did his parents say this was true? Was it because gods didn't exist?

Although he doesn't have many memories of his human life other than the death of his parents and the way they used him to earn a living, has Douma ever wondered if at some point in his human life he thought about what it would be like if he had a normal life and upbringing, would things have been different? It even looked like a joke.

It was a foolish thought.

Douma was nothing more than a killing machine, without a certain purpose with bizarre beliefs and sick hobbies.

Gods and Buddha do not exist, the afterlife does not exist. Hell does not exist. Heaven does not exist.

Or at least that's what he believed.

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— "Nee-san!" — Shinobu's voice called out to the second eldest sister right next to Kanae, the eldest of the sisters, who gave a smile when she saw her younger sister in the distance.

Not so far in front of a game tent, a beautiful girl with long hair (h/c) with a light pink gradient at the ends and a single butterfly clip attached to the right side of her hair that made her even more beautiful, lifted her face and directed her brightly colored eyes (e/c) towards her sisters. The girl was (Name) Kocho, the middle butterfly sister, who gave a smile to the other two who approached, smiling and waving.

The three demon slayers decided to participate in the festival that night that was taking place in a populated village, maybe it was a good opportunity for Kanao to have fun, even if the girl still didn't know how to show her own emotions.

While Kanae and Shinobu went to buy some snacks for four, (name) took Kanao to a tent where to win a prize it was necessary to first pop the balloons first. Of course, as a skilled slayer, it wasn't a difficult task for (name) to take out all the balloons, the hard part was choosing a prize for Kanao. It turned out that (name) decided to take the prize that Kanao was looking at the most, a medium-sized fluffy teddy bear.

— "We bought dango!" — Kanae happily informed and handed one dango to (name) and one to little Kanao.

(...)

It was a good idea Douma had come to this village looking for some pathetic woman to find and devour, after spending all day listening to so much blah blah blah from his followers that he doesn't even remember what it was about anymore, it was clear that he I would like something to eat. His followers were "disappearing" too fast, so Douma had to look for food outside his temple if he wanted to keep things normal there.

Well, he wanted something other than another woman looking for a divine lord.

The handsome demon acted in the crowd as if he were an ordinary human, attracting glances from single and committed women unhappy in their own marriage who would adore a man like that. Douma was no fool, he fanned his smiling face with his golden fan wondering how loudly they would scream upon discovering the true nature of that monster disguised as beauty.

It didn't take long for his unusually colored eyes to see a trio of pretty girls in the distance and one more child with them, all wearing butterfly accessories. He soon concluded that they were sisters, it wasn't that hard to guess either.

Douma stopped walking for a moment and blinked a few times, still looking at those sisters, or more specifically, one of them.

Douma's colored eyes widened.

If heaven didn't exist, then why was he selling a celestial maiden at that moment?

One of the girls who seemed to have fun with the sisters was the one who caught the demon's attention. Douma's lips lifted with joy in a maniacal way as he realized how beautiful that young woman was and the way she caught his attention.

It's her. He wanted her.

He would wait to leave her away from the sisters and take her with him to a secluded spot.

Soon the group of girls started walking and talking together through the lively streets, and Douma followed close behind at a safe distance so that no one would notice that he was chasing them.

The way the beautiful butterfly girl caught the attention of the upper moon two left him intrigued, at that moment nothing else around him caught his attention, he felt as if a woman appeared out of nowhere begging to be devoured, he would ignore her, why he just wanted that specific girl. Just her.

His hands tightened around his fans anxiously as he watched the girl's things in the distance, and Douma soon perked up even more as he noticed the girl separating from her sisters, apparently they were going to do something and would soon come back, and the other two left with the child, leaving the lady who caught Douma's attention alone beside a tent.

This was her chance, with calm steps the demon began to approach the girl, fanning himself with one of her fans while his smile grew with each step he took with his eyes fully fixed on the girl.

It was when they were only two meters apart that the young woman turned and Douma stopped walking. Now the demon could see the girl's full face, even if she wasn't looking at him.

What was that feeling? That's what Douma thought as he felt a strange pang in his chest.

She had the most beautiful and delicate features the mighty demon had ever seen in his many years of life. Bright eyes, rosy lips, and a soft expression on her face looking down at the sleeves of her kimono. She must have been between fifteen and sixteen, but she didn't look like the youngest of the group of sisters.

It was at the moment that Douma realized that he began to walk again, as if his body was working on its own, this time with slower steps towards the young woman.

(Name) decided to wait for the return of her sisters who said they would take Kanao to some bathroom, the middle sister just shrugged her shoulders now alone, they would be back soon.

She came out of her trance when she felt a large body collide with hers, causing her to almost drop her dango that was at the very end.

— "Eeh?" — (Name)'s eyes blinked in confusion and looked at the figure that had bumped into her, coming across a man much taller than her, a little peculiar looking, but very handsome.

The man had unusually pale skin and his hair was an almost silvery blonde with a red "spot" on top, his eyes were colored like a rainbow. And he wore a red kimono with a black patch on the top similar to the red part of his hair.

The man looked down with a confused expression and met the eyes of (name), then he fanned himself with a golden fan and his confused face was replaced by an amused expression. — "Oh my, looks like I should watch where I'm going." — He chuckled.

— "Ah..." — (Name) hid her mouth with the sleeve of her kimono and gave a short laugh. — "It's okay."

She had a beautiful voice.

— "Did you get distracted by something, sir?" — (Name) continued.

— "I think so." — The tall man laughed again.

For a moment (Name) there was something different about this man, there was something familiar about his scent, but the abnormality seemed too far away to be noticed.

— "Everything is fine?" — The velvety voice of the man asked, still with his smile on his face when he noticed the thoughtful look of the girl.

— "Hm?" — She widened her eyes and shook her head, breaking into a gentle smile. — "Yes, it is."

— "Nee-san!" — Shinobu's voice came up again and (Name) noticed her sisters waiting for her not far away.

(Name) waved at Shinobu, Kanae and Kanao and turned to face the man again. — "Sorry sir, but I have to go now."

— "Oh?" — He looked a little disappointed for a moment, but he smiled again the next second. — "Well, if you say so, see you later!"

(Name) nodded and ran towards the sisters. Behind her fan, Douma's smile formed in a maniacal and anxious way with his half-closed eyes looking in the girl's direction.

— "I hope to see you very soon."

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Douma was anxious. It was a sensation he had never felt before. He wanted something, he desperately wanted something.

Since that day, his hunts for humans have become more brutal, killing in greater numbers than he normally used to slaughter. If he still couldn't have what he was looking for, he would take his frustration out on victims who were unlucky enough to find the upper moon two.

The last time he saw that girl was about seven months ago, since that day he hasn't stopped search. His hands were shaking and his smile formed on his face much more maniacally just thinking about her, he laughed and felt like his chest was going to explode, he rolled over on the floor and scratched himself with his sharp nails. A few followers would occasionally hear the maniacal laughter coming from their gracious founder's quarters, but when questioned about it, Douma just sliced ​​through them in seconds with his fans.

Even Muzan noticed the strange change in behavior coming from the demon, and he knew very well what made Douma like that, but he didn't care, after all, this change only made the upper moon more brutal. He was stronger, something was making him most stronger.

Another who noticed Douma's change was Akaza. It wasn't hard to see the urge Douma had to brutally bite and tear the first thing that came in front of him. The upper moon two acted as if he was in a hurry, whenever they met, Douma ignored Akaza, but the same remained with that crazy happy look of his. Of course, Akaza would never miss Douma's annoying teasing about the two of them being friends, but that was weird anyway, more so than usual, however the upper moon three didn't give a damn to find out what was going on with the annoying blonde, even though it felt like it wasn't good at all.

He wanted something, he would destroy anything for something.

For three months, Douma roamed the territories of Japan looking for the girl with the butterfly clip and questioned people about her whereabouts, from ordinary residents to demon slayers.

Nobody knew. And Douma slaughtered everyone who said they'd never seen a girl with a butterfly clip.

His tennyo was out there, and what frustrated Douma even more was knowing she was in a place he had no idea where.

It was during the confrontation with a common slayer that he had the misfortune of coming face to face with a upper moon in which Douma finally had some answers.

She was a female slayer who appeared to have had little training, which would make it much easier for Douma, not that it wasn't easy enough to kill a slayer with or without experience. At the exact moment she noticed the kanji in Douma's eyes, the demon burst out laughing to see that the slayer began to shake to the point of pissing her own pants and then falling to the ground, begging to be spared.

— "Ara ara~... let's see what we have here..." — Douma was amused by the desperate situation of that pathetic human.

The upper moon two was known for toying with his opponents before killing them, but now, since what happened months ago, he doesn't want to waste any more time, he will destroy the stones in his shoes quickly and then go to the next step.

— "Please! Spare me!" — The human was crying and trembling, kneeling with her head and hands on the floor.

How ridiculous that was. Douma wanted to sink her head into the ground as quickly as possible.

— "Why so afraid?" — Douma laughed as he fanned himself with his fan. — "I can spare you, but only if you give me the answer I'm looking for."

— "Yes! I-I'll do anything!"

Douma's lips rose slightly. — "Very well. You know, I've been looking for a certain young woman for a while now who caught my attention. Have you seen a girl with a butterfly clip?"

The helpless slayer's eyes widened, yes, she knew a girl with a butterfly clip, from afar, of course.

— "A-Are you referring to the girls of butterfly mansion?" — The girl dared to ask hesitantly.

Douma's eyes widened and his smile opened much wider than before, and that was scary. — "Butterfly Mansion? Could you describe them to me?"

— "Y-Yes..." — The slayer confirmed, still kneeling on the ground without looking at the monster in front of her. — "Two of them are the flower hashira... one of them having become hashira about two months ago... the other sister is not a hashira, but from what I hear she has great potential. But she also has other younger girls living in that mansion, but they're not slayers."

Douma's slow steps approached the slayer and he bent down in front of her and made her lift her watery and sweaty face, making her look right into the demon's eyes. — "Now, tell me which one is the girl with long (h/c) pink hair who wears the butterfly clip on the right side of her head."

The slayer thought for a moment, trying to remember which of the sisters the upper moon was referring to, until her eyes widened at the memory. — "(Name)! (Name) Kocho! It is the sister who became recent Hashira!"

(Name) Kocho... there it is.

A peaceful sigh escaped Douma's lips as he closed his eyes. He finally felt calm again.

— "Thank you very much for your cooperation with me." — Douma thanked her.

For a moment the female slayer had a glimmer of hope that she might survive, but alas, Douma was by far not the most merciful of demons.

— "Now, as thanks, I will allow you to live forever, an act of mercy, as I promised." — Douma grabbed the girl and pulled her against his body. — "Inside me, you will live forever."

The slayer didn't have time to scream or act before her body was absorbed by Douma.

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The butterfly mansion was a property of the demon demon slayer corps, Douma learned this from certain listeners he got, that's where she was, and the fact that she was a slayer only delayed the situation. Of course, Douma might as well go there, even knowing about the wisteria, and take it for himself, but it was better to avoid unwanted attention, that would surely make Muzan furious.

It was funny the way (Name) started to make Douma feel things he had never felt before. What was it? Was it the so-called emotions he was never supposed to feel? During the past seven months, was it anger he felt at not meeting her?

Douma laughed at his insane expression at the thought of all this. He was enjoying it, she was enjoying it, and he was enjoying it.

But soon he returned to his serious self as he finally realized that he had followed the wrong sister.

In front of him was this Kanae, (Name)'s older sister who he had confused with her. Douma hit himself on the forehead, how could he mistake his lovely lady for her sister? (Name) wore only one butterfly clip on the side of her head, not two!

— "Sorry (Name)-chan." — Douma moaned with his weird tears streaming from his eyes. — "I think my desire to meet you again ended up not making me realize that I had followed your sister. I promise not to make the same mistake next time."

Kanae's eyes widened as she heard the name of one of her sisters come out of the upper moon's mouth. — "How do you know my sister's name?"

— "(Name)-chan was the one I wanted here..." — He wipes away his tears and makes a sad expression. — "I miss her so much, could you take me to her?" — Douma looked hopeful in front of Kanae.

— "N-No!" — Incredulous and surprised by the whole situation, Kanae replied. — "I... I would never take you to one of my sisters!" — She tightened her grip on her katana.

— "Ah, geez..." — Douma was sad again. — "Looks like I'll have to force you to come here then…" — And then he opened his fans.

(...)

— "CAW! CAW!"

— "Hmm?" — (Name) recognized her crow tone as one more agitated than usual. Something had happened.

— "CAW CAW! KANAE KOCHO WAS DEFEATED IN THE EAST!"

(Name)'s eyes widened and she wasted no time before starting to run as fast as the wind in the direction dictated by the crow where her older sister was defeated.

Praying with all her might that Kanae would hold on, (Name)'s eyes filled with tears as her heart pounded almost out of her mouth.

"Please Nee-san... Please hold on..."

With her legs aching from running a considerable distance, (Name) arrived at the said spot in about a minute, where she found herself in an alley Shinobu holding Kanae with tears in her eyes.

— "..." — (Name)'s hands trembled along with her soaked lips and eyes. — "Nee-san!" — She ran towards the sisters and held Kanae along with Shinobu. — "Nee-san! Nee-san wake up, please!"

Not so far just below a safe shadow to later be able to flee, Douma watched the two sisters mourn the loss of the eldest, and despite being "upset" that he didn't have time to devour Kanae, Douma felt the same emotion again. looking forward to seeing (Name).

Finally, she was in his sight for the first time in months. She is still as beautiful as before.

Douma licked his lips, wishing he could go there right now, and take (Name) with him and maybe kill Shinobu soon too so there would be no witnesses.

damn sun.

(...)

— "Kanae-nee-san told me something before he died..." — Shinobu muttered.

— "Hmm?" — As her finished combing her younger sister's hair and securing it with the clip, (Name)'s attention was called.

After all, Kanae's funeral had only been a few weeks ago.

— "The demon that killed her..." — Shinobu sighed, but feel the anger in her voice. — "A demon with bloodstains above his head... he always gives a carefree smile... and speaks in a calm and gentle manner... the weapon this demon uses is a pair of sharp, golden fans." — She repeated the same words spoken by Kanae before she passed away.

(Name) released the comb and blinked a few times with a confused expression, as if a memory had come back to her.

Shinobu noticed the change in her sister's behavior and stood up, turning to her. — "Nee-san... is everything okay?"

...

...

...

(Name) blinked again.

...

A handsome man bumped into her...

...

Tall and handsome, with a red spot on his head that looked like blood...

...

He spoke in a velvety voice...

...

He was smiling and had a golden fan with a shine that made him look sharp...

...

He had a strange smell...

...

...

...

"Oh my, looks like I should watch where I'm going." He chuckled.

Panting, (Name) covered her mouth with her hands, hoping it was just a coincidence.

— "She also said... that the demon kept asking about you..." — Shinobu still hadn't noticed (Name)'s reaction. — "Nee-san, do you know him...?"

Shinobu's face turned over her shoulder to look at her sister, and it wasn't hard to see the feeling of unease in the older sister.

— "Shinobu... I think I made a terrible mistake..."

The younger sister stood up and took hold of (Name)'s shoulders. — "Nee-san... have you ever seen the demon that killed our sister?" — Shinobu looked tense but trying to keep her face steady, she was aware that, according to Kanae's last words, the demon wanted something with (Name). — "Please try to remember, our sister's murderer cannot go unpunished."

— "I-I..." — (Name) blinked looking at the floor, until she regained her posture and gave a sigh, regaining her calm. — "On the day of the festival a few months ago... when you and Kanae went out with Kanao and I was waiting alone, a man appeared." — She informed, and Shinobu listened attentively. — "He was a tall, very handsome man, and Kanae's description of the demon exactly matches his features, and... he had a scent and aura that made me a little uneasy, but it was something so far away that I I couldn't even understand it properly... but it was something in there..."

The two sisters stared at each other for a moment, Shinobu seemed to think about something, until he said something. — "His face, do you remember?"

— "It was a normal face… a human face…" — (Name)'s voice was low and emotionless. — "He didn't have any demonic traits… he was like a normal man…" — She continued. — "But remember, there's no way to know if he was really a demon or just a coincidence..."

The traits clashed too much for it to be just coincidence... and both sisters knew it.

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Things continued on a daily basis after four years. (Name) and Shinobu shared the same feelings after the elder butterfly sister's death... sadness, denial, failed attempt at acceptance, anger. But at least things seemed to take an evolutionary turn. Kanao became an official slayer and Shinobu rose through the ranks as Insect Hashira.

Maybe things were peaceful for now--

— "(Name)-chan!"

The female scream was loud enough that it might have been heard throughout the butterfly mansion. (Name)'s eyes widened after she finished helping the triplets put on their butterfly accessories.

The triplets looked at each other in confusion and then looked at (Name), who was the person she had been called.

— "Hmm?" — (Name) blinked in confusion and walked towards the room where she heard her name being yelled. — "Kanroji-san?"

In the entrance room of the butterfly mansion was the Hashira of love, her face flushed and excited, waiting anxiously for flower hashira in the place where she was. Mitsuri gave a happy little squeal to see (Name) approaching.

— "Mitsuri-chan..." — (Name)'s confused gaze looked in the direction of her pink-braided friend. — "What happened?"

— "Well--" — Mitsuri looked anxious and happy in a way that prevented her from finishing her sentence.

(Name) watched Mitsuri with her eyes seeming to have been replaced by black dots on her face with a clear expression not understanding the situation.

— "S-See for yourself!" — Mitsuri pointed to a well-wrapped gift box at the front door of the property.

When approaching the box, (Name) can get a better view when holding it. It was a medium-sized box that could be easily carried in the hands, the wrapping was purple paper with a light pink ribbon, and there was a note stuck to it.

"To (Name) Kocho <3"

— "..."

Mitsuri ran towards (Name) and gave one of her cute little squeals of happiness. — "A secret admirer, (Name)-chan!" — The taller woman took the butterfly girl's shoulders and rocked her gently. — "You have a secret admirer! This is so cute!"

Sometimes (Name) would like to see love the way Mitsuri saw it.

— "Open! Open!"

Hearing Mitsuri's hand clapping beside her, (Name) blew the air out and began to gently open the package without destroying the packaging or the tape. After that, she can see a box made of cardboard and then the girl removed the top lid. Mitsuri peeked a little to see what the gift was along with (Name) and they both saw that it was a kimono along with several red and white flowers.

— "Kya! How adorable!"

Still silent, (Name) handed the box to her friend to hold while she removed the kimono from inside so that both of them could observe it better. It was a lilac-colored kimono with lots of white details and flower and butterfly prints, along with a few more cute ruffles. Accompanying the kimono was also a pinkish obi sash with mixed designs of daisies.

— "How beautiful..." — (Name) gave a small smile, feeling grateful for the beautiful gift.

When Kanae was still alive, it was common for her and (Name) to have certain admirers among lower level slayers. (Name) was aware of this, but felt surprised that someone could send her a gift, her admirers were never brave enough to give her some sort of romantic gift.

Mainly for Kanae, who also had many admirers, but none ever gave her any gifts as they all had a strong fear of the terrifying wind hashira, because of the rumors about him and Kanae having feelings for each other.

(Name) suspected this and sometimes encouraged Shinazugawa covertly back then.

Meanwhile behind the wall, the triplets watched the two Hashira girls looking at the present. Mitsuri and (Name) only noticed the presence of the three because Sumi tripped and fell on the mat, then Kiyo and Naho falling on top of it.

In the next second the three were around (Name).

— "(Name)-sama!"

— "Who gave you this gift?"

— "Please put it on!"

— "(Name)-sama has a secret admirer!"

The little triplets seemed to cheer around the butterfly girl. Making both (Name) and Mitsuri laugh.

— "I'll try it later."

(...)

Douma's eyes widened with happiness as he saw his precious lover wearing the kimono he had sent her.

It wasn't that difficult to send the gift to the butterfly mansion, despite the fact that it was daylight. It was just finding a random, terrified slayer who would know the way to the property, telling him they'd spare him if he did that favor, another one of Douma's lies of course.

(Name) was strolling through the festival alone, but Douma knew what her intentions were. A demon lurked around the village and she needed to look like an ordinary maiden, a slayer's uniform could scare away the night beast. Douma is overjoyed that she chose her gift to wear as her outfit tonight.

That was her chance. Douma could take the opportunity to get closer to his beloved now that she was facing a tent watching some people play a game of fishing.

Slowly and still with his expression of peaceful happiness on his face, Douma approached (Name), who seemed to be alert for a moment, probably thanks to her presence. But before she could look back, Douma wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her lightly against his body.

— "I've missed you so much, my lovely (Name)-chan" — Douma exclaimed in a gleeful whisper as he sniffed the top of (Name)'s head.

— "..." — (Name)'s face turned cold with a serious wide-eyed expression. She looked up to meet colored eyes that had the upper moon two kanji.

(Name) looked at that monster with visible veins on its face and its jaw was trembling as if its teeth were gnashing.

There he was. Now she recognized the demon smell coming from that man. Her older sister's killer was hugging her as if he were her husband.

— "Do you know how long I looked for you?" — He laughed and walked in the other direction, forcing (Name) to come with him as her arm was still under her waist. — "I dream and think about you since the first time we saw each other!"

— "Get your hands of me..." — (Name) growled in a whisper and tried to push the demon away, but to no avail as the grip on his waist was firm.

— "Don't be like that, (Name)-chan!" — He laughed again. — "Let's go now."

— "I don't want to go anywhere with you…" — (Name) tried to struggle, but Douma was much stronger than her. — "You bastard... how dare you show up in front of me after what you did..."

— "But (Name)-chan! I gave you so many beautiful gifts! Like this kimono for example!" — Douma smiled. — "It looks so good on you! And you seem to like it a lot."

Motherfucker. (Name) was hoping to get out of there immune so she could burn that kimono.

— "Ara ara..." — Douma chuckled softly in a bolder way, (Name) could hear the sadistic tone in his voice. — "Don't be so silly... my dear. Don't forget we are in the middle of a crowd, I could easily commit a massacre here if you dare raise your katana against me."

Shit. He must have noticed that (Name)'s nichirin katana was right under her kimono. She mentally cursed herself, she can't risk the lives of all these people for personal revenge. After all, it's a upper moon who she was dealing with.

(Name)'s silence was like a response to Douma, who regained his cheerful demeanor. — "That, (Name)-chan. Now come with me."

(...)

"CAW! CAW!"

Shinobu's face grew a little alarmed as she noticed her sister's crow appear in the skies above her and Tomioka.

— "(NAME) KOCHO DISAPPEARS! CAW CAW!

Shinobu fell into deathly silence. No... it can't be. She... she must have just had an accident.

Tomioka noticed Shinobu's behavior upon hearing the crow, but had no idea what to say or do.

— "CAPTURED! CAPTURED! UPPER MOON TWO CAPTURED (NAME) KOCHO!"

Shinobu's body began to shake as her face was plastered with fear and anger. First it was Kanae, and now she couldn't lose her other sister either. No... (Name) was still alive... If she was dead then the crow would have said "dead" and not "missing"...

The same demon. Shinobu clenched his shaking fists.

— "Kocho." — Giyuu approached the butterfly girl, still with her stoic face. — 'We must return to headquarters to ask for reinforcements for your sister."

Shinobu went ahead at high speed. She couldn't lose (Name) either.

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It had been weeks since (Name) was forcefully brought into the "cult of eternal paradise". She was not allowed to go out during the day and at night she was accompanied by Douma all the time.

(Name) felt like throwing up whenever she was able to hear cries for help and prayers to the "graceful savior", wondering what they would do if they knew the truth about this man's true demonic nature.

She felt totally helpless now that she was separated from her nichirin and the only thing she had in that room was the beautiful hair accessories and more kimonos. Douma made it a point to give only the best for his beloved now that he had her.

Even though it was only weeks, (Name) felt like it was a long eternity, being under the same roof as her sister's killer was without a doubt the greatest torture she'd ever felt, mostly because she couldn't do anything. She still didn't understand what plans Douma had for her, he always appeared suddenly and spent long hours hugging (Name) and talking to. her, even if she didn't answer back.

Did he intend to turn into a demon? Why didn't he do it yet then?

— "(Name)-chan!" — Douma exclaimed as he opened the shoji door.

(Name) remained silently eating his tonkatsu keeping his gaze on the wall to avoid Douma's happy face. And then she rolled her eyes as she felt Douma settle down beside her.

— "I'm so looking forward to introducing you to that man!"

Suddenly (Name)'s body shivered a little just imagining coming face to face with Muzan. Wait, did that mean...

— "I know you will be a strong demon!" — Douma hugged her and kissed the top of her head. — "And then we can be together forever!"

It can only be a joke. (Name)'s hands began to shake and clench to the point of breaking his chopsticks. The bowl of tonkatsu was thrown at Douma by (Name), the blonde man showed no negative emotion towards it and found his beloved's angry face adorable.

— "What the fuck do you have on your mind?!" — (Name) finally got tired of the whole situation. — "You murdered my sister! Are you aware of that?!"

— "Don't be upset, (Name)-chan." Douma pouted sadly. — "Your sister stayed between us. What was her name anyway?"

— 'Don't you dare say her name!" — she yelled before starting to throw things at him like her pillows. — "Die disgrace! Just die!"

Douma started to laugh. — "Hey hey! Don't be so upset, (Name)-chan. When you become a demon, there will come a time when you won't even remember your sisters!" — He smiled and opened his arms as if he was expecting a hug. — 'It will be just you and me for all eternity!'

(Name) wasn't able to answer, she just lowered her head and started to cry softly, wishing just to be in the company of her sisters and friends again.

And once again, Douma approached her and hugged her gently. This time, (Name) didn't fight, she was already too tired of it all, and so she just allowed her head to lie under Douma's chest.

She just prayed that someone would find her.

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— "Hello, nice to meet you in person." — Douma smiled at a troubled-looking Shinobu at the entrance. — "My name is Douma. You must be my sweet (Name)-chan's younger sister."

— "Help... help me!" — A girl cried for Shinobu.

— "Shh... we're talking." — Douma tried to silence the girl using his kekkijutsu, but she was taken out of there before by Shinobu. — "Wow, you're also fast, (Name)-chan mentioned about you being a hashira!"

Shinobu's eyes widened in horror as he saw that the girl he had saved had her body shattered while still in her arms.

— "..."

— "Oh don't worry about her! Just leave her there." — Douma assured. "I'll make sure to devour you later. I'm the founder of the cult of eternal paradise, my duty is to make all my followers, including myself and your sister, happy. Then I'm going to eat this woman without leaving a trace. Maybe I'll share it with (Name)-chan when she becomes a demon!"

— "Where is my sister?"

— "Oh, don't worry, she's fine. I made sure she couldn't get away from the cult." — He smiled carefree. — "But if there's something bothering you, just tell me and I'll tell (Name)-chan."

— "You bastard... You kidnapped one of my sisters!" — Shinobu growled. — "And you also killed my other sister, didn't you?!" — She squeezed the hem of her haori. — "Don't you recognize this haori?!"

Douma recognized that that haori was the same as (Name), and smiled. — "Ah, the other girl who also used flower breath! It's a funny story, I followed her thinking it was (Name)-chan!" — He placed the closed fan against her chin. — "I was very upset with myself for mistaking my lover for one of her sisters... but it's ok now! She didn't want me to get to (Name)-chan and so I got rid of her soon! sun appeared... otherwise I could have taken--

Douma was stopped as Shinobu stabbed her blade into the demon's eye, but it didn't cause any reaction in him.

"Insect Breath: Bee Sting Dance, True Flutter"

— "It was a good lunge, I couldn't stop even with my hand." — Douma smiled and opened his fans before breaking into a psychotic, terrifying smile. — "Now, let's get this over with. I want to get back to (Name)-chan as soon as possible."

"...Give me back my sister..."

(...)

Inside the luxurious and dark room only lit by a candle, (Name) was shaking and sweating as he stood staring at his hands in his lap. She knew the final fight had begun, her sister Kanao and the rest of her companions... all in enemy territory risking their lives.

(Name) started to tear up and sniffle, she wanted to be there for them to help them defeat those damn monsters that caused so much pain. That room was closed without any chance of communication with the outside, Douma made sure that she didn't run away, this time with even stronger protection.

Her breath suddenly hitched when she heard careful footsteps on the hardwood floor outside the room.

Hands began to carefully remove the guard from the entrance. (Name) feel like her heart was going to come out of her mouth.

The final battle was over.

The shadow, now visible on the other side of the shoji door, began to slowly open.

For a second, (Name) had a glimmer of hope.

— "...Shinobu?"

— "Ara ara~... it's just me, (Name)-chan~"

Douma's bloodied figure was standing in the doorway with his same happy smile as ever, now even bigger to see his lover again, even though her face was dead and her cheeks were wet from tears.

She remained that way from that day on. Douma hated it, it was as if his beloved (Name) had lost her luster, even after turning her into a demon.

How much time has passed? It's been a few years maybe.

Ended. The demons won.

That day, with every moment of time he wasted fighting those slayers, the more Douma felt like his chest was going to explode. He smiled maniacally and just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible to return to his beloved.

And that's what he did.

The "conversation" with Shinobu was even fun, seeing how she writhed in anger at the loss of one of her sisters and the kidnapping of the other. She was furious as Douma joked about how him played (Name).

But Douma was even more furious. He yearned for (Name) and every second he was away from her was even more torturous than the very presence of Muzan.

He craved, he needed her.

He got tired of this situation, so he just killed Shinobu and decided to get rid of the other two that appeared without delay.

That pathetic struggle didn't last even a minute.

Douma decided not to go into details about how he killed Kanao and Inosuke, as he recognized that it would make (Name) even sadder. And that wasn't what he wanted.

Anyway, Douma helped Akaza, and then helped Kokushibo. No slayer was able to reach Muzan. All their efforts were in vain even before the sun could rise above the horizon.

The demon king went into a rage, after all that, he went after the rest of the slayer squad to finish the job. In the end, Muzan captured the demon girl who had conquered the sun and devoured her. It was over, now the Demon King was invincible.

But why would Douma care at all? Now and for all eternity, he had his beloved (Name) to himself, who was now "known" as the "Butterfly Demon". At first she was incredibly difficult to deal with, she didn't speak, she didn't eat, and she didn't even change her expression. Douma was upset as he would much rather see a happy expression on her face. (Name) was hungry all the time, refusing to eat humans, so Douma said that if she got too hungry she could lose control and attack a human, so she accepted Douma's blood as food.

Things were going well at best. After all, she had nowhere to go but Douma.

(...)

(Name)'s mind didn't work like it used to, it didn't care anymore to live or die. But as the years passed, maybe even decades, she began to wonder... what was right and wrong?

When you've been around for so long you come to "enjoy" the company you have. Maybe... (Name) was being a bit hasty towards Douma, after all, what had he done? She couldn't remember anymore, and knew that now, she had only him in the world.

Until... his company wasn't so bad, he had a good singing voice and gave his best to (Name). Maybe…she was being ungrateful? He surprised her in the late 20s when he brought her a magic box called "television", and in the early 30s he took her to America as a... honeymoon?

Until he was kind...

He took care of her and loved her, so...she shouldn't be so cruel to him sometimes...

Maybe... she should start repaying his love with her own love...

Meanwhile, Douma felt happy to have (Name) finally return his love, it wasn't a facade emotion like the masks he used to wear, no, with (Name) it was real. And he liked it.

Until the 21st century arrived, and Douma could barely contain his maniacal gleeful smile when he inadvertently mentioned the name of one of (Name)'s sisters, only getting a confused look from her.

— "Who is Shinobu?"

Douma swore to destroy anyone and anything that would stop the same from (Name) for himself, nothing would stop him from loving her for the rest of eternity.

It's everthing fine now.

Douma have you now for ALL eternity.

THE BAD ENDING

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