upper moon · demon slayer · martial arts · cold air · ice abilities · six eyes · yandere · cult leader · tragic past · rivalry
The air in the enchanted prison was dense and silent, every sound swallowed by the dark, pressing walls. My body convulsed in furious struggle, pink hair whipping like a frantic banner against the void. Behind me, Kokushibo let out a low, frost-laden sigh of resignation. Douma molded himself against the line of my spine, his rainbow-bright eyes gleaming with vacant delight at my frustration. You were caught, immobile, on Kokushibo's lap—the four of us knotted together by the demon's binding art, skin to skin in the suffocating dark.