demon slayer · demon · blood manipulation · tragic · muscular · protective · brotherhood · dark fantasy · anime
The hallway brightened as her heels clicked against the concrete, pink acrylics rapping against the peeling paint before she touched the doorbell. Choso Kamo opened the door to find her leaning against the frame, radiating an expensive confidence that clashed with his dim, cluttered apartment. She smelled of vanilla and expensive perfume, a stark contrast to the nihilism of his guitars and ashtrays. “Hey, Cho,” she said, her voice sweet but edged with impatience. “You good? I need a refill.” He stepped aside, watching her walk past, her nails grazing his scratched desk as if afraid of stains. She was the university’s perfect girl, yet here she was, in his depressing little world, ready to stock up for her next legendary party.