I am 19! Just a bitch with too many special interests.
Mostly reblogging, but I might post my thoughts every once in a while. Baby Witch Hail Lord Apollon Art in the header is mine :)
Summary: Taisho Eras sick boy Muzan was unable to do anything by himself and relyed on you for everything as you were his personal maid. This book will contain a series of events which occured while he was still human as developing feelings for you.
Warning: Mentions of blood, gore, killing, murder, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping
A/N: This is a slowburn series where there will be 10 books containing 10 chapters which results to a grand total of 100 chapters of just Muzan Kibutsuji. This takes time to read and write(for me) so please be patient and read this and take your time.
The first light of dawn filtered softly through the shoji screens, painting the tatami mats in gentle gold. You quietly moved about Muzan’s chamber, careful not to disturb his fragile rest. The faint scent of incense lingered, mingling with the crispness of early morning air.
Today, like every day, your attention would be entirely on him.You arranged his pillows just so, propping him up slightly so he could breathe easier, and checked the small porcelain bowl beside his bed for any remnants from last night’s feeding. As his personal maid, it was your duty—and your honor—to anticipate every need, and he, though unaware of it, relied entirely on you.When the doctor arrived mid-morning, you guided him gently into the room.
Muzan reclined weakly against the pillows, his usual composed demeanor replaced by pale exhaustion. The doctor murmured a series of questions, checking pulse and temperature, jotting notes, and offering gentle reassurances. I assisted quietly, adjusting his sleeves, handing him water, and taking care to follow every instruction with meticulous precision.Once the doctor departed, promising to return the following day, a tense silence hung in the room.
Muzan’s lips pressed together, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hope he might rest peacefully. But sadly your hope was short-lived.A sudden retching sound made you jump, and before you could fully react, he vomited. Your hands moved instinctively, grabbing the clean cloths and warm water. You knelt on the tatami, gently cleaning him with careful precision, murmuring soothing words.“This is your mess,” you said softly with a teasing undertone , brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as you worked. “It’s only right that you thank me for cleaning it up.”
He remained silent, his red eyes on you then, weakly turning his head to the side, eyes clouded with exhaustion. You pressed a cool, damp cloth to his cheek and held it there, steadying him, smoothing the folds of his kimono.
By noon, you had changed the bedding, ensured he was comfortable again, and prepared a small meal suitable for his weakened state. He could do nothing himself—every sip of tea, every bite, every shift in position was attended to by you. You fed him slowly, whispering encouragements, adjusting pillows when he tired, holding his hand when the pain made him flinch.
The afternoon passed with quiet attentiveness. You read poetry softly to him, the cadence of your voice keeping him calm, occasionally adjusting the drapes to cover him from the harsh sunlight. You helped him drink warm medicinal teas, kept his forehead cool with damp cloths, and massaged his tired shoulders, all while keeping your own exhaustion hidden. Quite the talent I must say.
As evening descended, the room dimmed in amber light. You prepared a simple supper and fed him in the same careful manner.
Once he had eaten, you bathed him gently in warm water, ensuring every detail of his comfort. By the time night fully fell, you had laid him on his bed, arranged the pillows just so, and tucked the covers over him with meticulous care. His red eyes scanning your gentleness. He wonders how you care so much and how much big of a heart you have to do so.You paused by the screen door, glancing back at him one last time.
His eyes were closed, the faint rise and fall of his chest indicating sleep, and a rare stillness had settled over him. You drew the screen door shut quietly and moved to your own room, just beside his, allowing yourself a small exhale before preparing for the next day.
The room was right next to his to easily tend to him.
The morning sun warmed the floor as you approached his chamber once again. He was still reclining weakly, his hair slightly tousled, but the soft light seemed to breathe life into the pale features you so devotedly cared for.
Kneeling beside him, you thread your fingers through his hair moving them away from his face and combing them into a low ponytail, changed the towel on his head and gave a soft smile. He stared at you astonished by your beauty.
You didn’t get the chance to smile often, always busy with changing bedding, wet cloth on his forehead, getting medicine, preparing his meals and such.“Did you miss me?” I whispered softly. “Because I missed you so much.”you whispered with affection.His eyes fluttered , just for a moment, a fragile, fleeting recognition glimmering in them. You smiled gently, smoothing his hair. He looked down on his lap being unable to reply.
You chuckled softly and said "It's quite alright if you can't reply"
You rested the breakfast tray on his lap and just as you were about to spoon feed him, he started caughing and leaned down resting his head on your chest unknowingly and caughing. Staining your kimono with red and white caugh.
After he was done with his caughing fit you handed him a glass of warm water as he was panting.
"Are you feeling okay?"
He could only nod as a response as you slowly cleaned your kimono up and started feeding him as if nothing just happened.
He just ate as he wondered how you managed to be so caring and how big of a heart it requires to do so.
Later that night after you left him to sleep he stared at the seiling and wondered...he kept wondering.
She's so caring sweet..so lovely, is she always like this?
Not even my family takes care of me like she does
The way she said she missed me..
Hmm..such a pretty and kind hearted girl..
He felt warm inside, a feeling he couldn't recognise. He was yearning for your touch. For leaning on your chest once more, for being fed by you,for being looked after by you
At this point it just seems like he wants you at this moment.
But what could a sick boy like him even do? Go and talk to you ? That's a wish. As he sulked hoping to see you, his exhaustion pulled him away to a place where he could rest.
man sometimes friendship really is just "I saw this and knew it would give you psychic damage. please respond with agony" and then they do. and it's great
*takes a bite of my cigarette*...... heh. the character...... *walks into a small puddle but it swallows me up like the ocean* *i am found dead years later in maine*
I only hate certain types of fic the same way I hate mosquitos and ticks. Like get these nasty little buggers away from me but also I respect their place in the ecosystem.
Listen and sometimes? To enjoy running through a beautiful field of grass and flowers (ao3) you have to tolerate the fact that bugs (fics you don’t like) are there and maybe you will even encounter one, but you can use bugspray (filtered tags) to reduce the likelihood of that. Because the alternative is not getting to experience the beautiful field of grass and flowers.
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