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xxlady-lunaxx · 4 months ago

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“Do you like the snow?” Kokushibo asked, his three pairs of eyes gazing momentarily at Muzan before flicking back down to the floor. He sunk deeper into his bow, waiting silently. It was an odd question to follow up an order for a mission, yet it had slipped out nonetheless. Perhaps because he’d just been brought into the Infinity Castle after being out in the snow all evening, but it’d been the first thing on his mind.

“The snow?” Muzan repeated. His tone was surprisingly full of inquiry—and maybe he was holding back from reading Kokushibo’s mind, or was asking purely through courtesy (unlikely, but possible), but he sounded genuinely curious.

“Yes,” Kokushibo agreed.

“If I like it…” he mused, shaking his head. “No, I never cared for it. Is there a point to this question?”

“No. Apologies, Kibutsuji-sama.”

“Ah. Well, then—“ He signaled vaguely with a hand and, with the strum of a biwa, Kokushibo was teleported back outside. His steps sunk into the thick layers of snow as he began to walk towards the nearest village.

Meanwhile, Muzan had himself transported to a town where one of his crafted families were. As he walked idly down the streets, the snow crunched under his feet and seeped into the cuffs of his pants. He frowned down at the footsteps that walked in all directions. When he glanced up, he was met with a row of small snowmen, twigs sticking out as arms for the army of snowballs.

“Do I like snow?” he asked himself, gazing, confused, at the snowmen. “No, no I don’t.”

The sound of chattering brought his attention back up, drawn to the laughter. A little girl, whom he recognized as the one he was meant to be the father of, ran towards him, mindless of how the snow and mud splattered against the hem of her dress.

He crouched slightly, picking her up when she jumped onto him.

“It snowed!” she informed him, unnecessarily, a wide smile splitting her face. “Can we play outside before dinner? Can we? Please, Chichiue!”

“Mm? Did Kaa-chan say that was alright?” he asked, feigning excitement and patting her head.

“Yeah! She said ten minutes!”

“Ten minutes, it is,” he assured her, and placed her back down. She giggled, picking up a clump of snow and tossed it at him. Instinctively, he dodged it, and she pouted.

“You’re no fun!” she told him, then went off to play on her own, shouting something about making a forest for the snow people.

Muzan watched, conflicted. A memory, somewhere in the back of his mind, nudged him. Quietly bothering him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. As he watched the daughter that wasn’t quite his begin to roll in the snow, he gave in, closing his eyes with a soft exhale. His breath was visible before him, but he didn’t see it, instead transported centuries into the past. Back when he had been his daughter’s age, equally elated over the concept of snow.

—x—x—

“But I want to see it—!” Muzan protested, his whining loud despite the frailness of his body. His nurse fretted over him, shaking her head.

“No, no, you’re not fit for it! You’ll catch a fever if you step out,” she told him, pushing him gently back into his bed. He was small, not just because he was a child, but even more than the average for his age. Recently, his appetite had been low, and with winter at its peak, his condition had worsened. Yet he was immediately awake at the mention of the snowy wonder he’d yet see for himself.

Grumbling, Muzan wiggled out of the covers, pushing the weight of them all off. The air outside the blankets was chilly, and he shivered, but persisted. “So? I’m always sick!” he all but yelled. “I’ll get sick either way! I wanna go!”

“Muzan-chan,” the nurse tried. She retrieved one of the blankets and draped it over his shoulders. “Your mother won’t be happy.”

“I don’t care!” he decided. “Okaa-san would understand!”

“But…”

Muzan turned to her with wide eyes that were full of longing, a pout forming. “Just a couple minutes? I never get to do things.”

The nurse struggled with herself for a moment, then sighed, sagging. “Alright. Five minutes. I’ll find you some clothes, you can’t go out in that.”

A few moments later, Muzan stumbled outside, bundled up in scarves and several layers of haori. The nurse held his hand tightly, gently helping him step into his shoes and then onto the snow. Red eyes alight with wonder, Muzan gasped and prodded tentatively at the snow with his foot. When it formed a cavity in the bright white mound, he laughed and stomped down, the widest of smiles splitting his face when the snow went flying.

“Careful, Muzan-chan!” the nurse warned, not quite letting him go even when he began to waddle through the snow. His excitement was palpable, his breath visible in the air where he spoke.

“It’s so cold,” he remarked, his cheeks and nose bright red—a contrast to his pale skin. However he seemed unbothered by the temperature, even elated by it, uncaring for the sacrifice if it meant being outside. “Ne, can I play?”

“Ah… You’re not well, yet, so be cautious,” was his answer. But the nurse reluctantly let him go, keeping close as he giggled and spun in a slow circle.

Abruptly, he sank down, poking the snow with a finger. He sucked in a breath and pulled his hand back. “It’s so—“ he started, then plunged his hand in, laughing breathlessly at the iciness.

“Don’t do that!” the nurse chided, crouching and pulling his hand out, wrapping it in one of the scarves. “You’ll give yourself a frostbite.”

“But it feels funny!” he said, only to be distracted by something else. He stood, slowly, then hurried off to soothe his curiosity. His enthusiasm was ceaseless, smiles bright and full of life. They ended up staying out for ten minutes, until Muzan began getting dizzy from all the movement.

As he was ushered inside, shoes pulled off and tucked back onto bed, he began recounting his adventure. His mother listened patiently while the nurse made some tea, readjusting the blankets so they were up to his chin.

“It was so cold, and really mushy, and kept getting on my clothes, and then it melted and—and then I made people! Out of snow! And we got sticks and put them in the snow for arms, but then the people fell apart—but, but then we made even more, and then there was a bunch of footprints in the snow—“ he said, without even stopping for breath. His face was still tinged red where the air had bit his skin, and he seemed as if he’d run miles for hours. But his happiness was infectious, and his mother couldn’t resist the smile that followed her understanding hums.

“Is that so?” she asked, when he finally paused to catch up with himself.

The nurse returned with tea for all three of them, and they helped Muzan drink his first. When he finished a few sips, he nodded.

“It was super fun, I wanna go outside again tomorrow!”

“Maybe another day,” his mother suggested. “You rest well today and tomorrow, and we’ll consider. How about that?”

“…okay,” Muzan pouted, but agreed, burrowing into his blankets. “I’ll sleep now!”

“All right, then,” his mother said, amused, and patted him gently. “Sleep well, and you’ll see the snow in a bit.”

She and the nurse left the room once they were sure he’d sleep, taking the tea with them. Muzan tucked his face under the blankets, bringing his hands up to his cheeks and feeling how much colder they were.

“Like the snow,” he said to himself. “I love the snow!”

That night, his dreams consisted of snow in the summers when he was allowed out for small bits of time—the snowmen he’d made now with arms that stayed, relaxing in the shade beside him. Every year, he must go out when it snowed. He’d make sure that it happened. One way or another!

—x—x—

“Chichiueeee!”

The whiny voice brought Muzan back to the present and he hummed, glancing down at the little girl that tugged on his pant leg.

“Yes, Teruko-chan?” he asked, pushing away his impatience to bend down.

“I’m cold!” she said with a huff. “I wanna go inside!”

“All right.” Muzan scooped her up into his arms, wandering towards their house. “Where’s your mother?”

“Kaa-chan’s making dinner, and she saw you outside so she said I could play with you,” his daughter informed him, wiggling in his grasp. She pressed her cheek to his, and he felt the coolness in her skin, reminding him of when he’d pressed his hands to his own face.

“Is that so? Then why don’t we go inside to eat?” he suggested, and pushed the door open. The little girl immediately squirmed from his arms and dashed off to the kitchen where, presumably, the food was being made. He tapped the snow from his shoes, then took them off as he entered. The door closed behind him, and he remained at the doorway for a moment, gazing aimlessly at the hall.

At dinner, he assured his wife that he’d eaten lunch late so he’d eat dinner later. He sat patiently at the table, glad for the clouded-over sky because it allowed him to walk freely in the snow today. As he waited, he gazed curiously at his daughter.

“Did you like playing in the snow?” he asked, stopping her from shoving too much food into her mouth.

“Yeah!” she said happily, batting his hand away. “But the snow was super cold, so I don’t wanna go tomorrow. One day is fine! Tomorrow, I can sit by the fire and have milk.”

Her mother laughed softly. “I thought you liked the snow?”

“Not for long times,” the girl said matter-of-factly, shaking her head. “I like making the snowmen and stuff, but then it’s too cold so I wanna go back in.”

“Ah, well, I like the snow,” Muzan piped up, as the dishes were collected to wash.

“Why?” his daughter asked almost judgmentally, a perplexed frown plastered on her face.

Why? Muzan paused. “It’s nice?”

“Boring!” The little girl ran off to her mother, shouting, “Kaa-chan! Chichiue’s boring!”

“Don’t say that about your father!” was the distant response from the kitchen, the clattering of dishes and the sound of water following.

Muzan’s previously pleasant expression dropped with the absence of company, and he murmured something about going to sleep early, trudging to the bedroom. He wasn’t sure if it had been the snow, exactly, that he’d loved as a child. Or maybe it had. It was hard to say. Such small things hardly mattered to him, now. Now, he could go out whenever he wanted. So maybe he didn’t care for snow. Such trivial things were unimportant—and liking it or not, it came only briefly each year. Ah, well, he’d avoid the snow tomorrow and have Nakime bring him where he needed to go, instead of going on foot. Perhaps the girl had a point—he should just stay inside; the snow was too cold to actually enjoy.

Goodness, such a bother for something like snow. What was he thinking? He had other things to worry about.

The thoughts were shoved aside as he entered his study room and picked a book from the shelf. He’d go to the library tomorrow and continue browsing through the books. The blue spider lily was at utmost importance now. Unless it thrived in the snow, he shouldn’t let himself get distracted again. He’d better tell Kokushibo to not ask such things anymore.

#welcome to my daily ooc fanfic writing #or whatever #i havent written the demons in ages plsss pretend muzan & koku r acting normal #also also notice how in the narration muzan never refers to teruko by her name #just ‘the girl’ and ‘his daughter’ bc he couldnt give a fuck #(teruko was the 1st name that popped up in my head btw lmao)#and and notice how muzan’s mother + muzan both say ‘is that so’#(ok that one was on accident but who cares)#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #muzan kibutsuji #kny kokushibo #kny muzan #kibutsuji muzan #fluff #ish #sorta hidden angst #something along the lines of ‘life ceases 2 matter when the u stop caring abt the little things’#i think #nakime mention also #ft. random mother+her daughter & muzan’s mother+nurse #‘chichiue’ means father i think #’kaa-chan’ and ‘okaa-san’ mean mother #writing ‘muzan-chan’ was so funny for no reason #kny drabbles #kny thoughts #there r lots of irrelevant tags here oops

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lookatourstrangecat · 2 months ago

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‘Tis Jonah time!!!!!

So. Being high, crashing, calling an alternate a kitty, adopting said alternate, eating McDonald’s. A very eventful night, I suppose.

Why would you dye your hair silver of all colors??? It makes you look old, and you’re like, what, 19? Purple would look much better on you. [/ooc it’s because I saw this one fanart with Jonah having purple hair and it was fire].

Also, how did you even get into this predicament? You just show up on the doorstep or something while being high?

Is being high your hobby?

I’m not gonna get too personal just yet, don’t worry!

that’s for later.

Very eventful and I barely remember any of it now that I’m more aware of my surroundings. Sarah caught me up when I woke up in the afternoon. But I gotta agree with my high self that the new alternate is indeed kitty.

I usually go between silver very light lavender blue and pink or have the blonde part of my hair well taken care of that it looms platinum.

Originally lived with my parents before a fight happened that had to do with college. Moved in with Sarah and helped out with some investigations until I fucked up a thing on accident and then we were evicted(landlord was a asshole and let’s say many court meetings happened) so we moved into Mark and Cesar’s place. That’s what led us to now.

Yes but no. I only now get high after stressful investigations or before I go to bed the help relax. Before I did it for fun and out of boredom. A hobby I would say I have is debating, for fun we do mock trials sometimes and it ends in stupid shit. But I do enjoy video games a lot, spend most of my time playing em. Then there’s gardening, started as a outlet for whenever I was feeling withdrawals but now is a hobby I do whenever I can.

Welp I’m going to ignore that bit for now. As long as we don’t see someone new show up uninvited it will all be fineeee.

Now back to looking up Adam’s name as I swear I’ve seen it somewhere before.

—Jonah

#I hc Jonah goes through multiple hair dyes sometimes like clockwork #also Jonah uses we/us in reference to himself at times. totally not using our Jonah fictive as ref for some shit #noooo #at this point ooc stuff on my end are in tags lol #they may be at the bottom #of the tags list now tho #tmc #tmc au #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #to be ‘human’#mandela catalouge au #jonah marshall #tmc jonah #mintitheicecream asks #mintiicecream asks

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