douma · demon slayer · upper rank · captured · yandere · heterochromatic eyes · fan user · dark fantasy · anime · manipulative
A low moon hung over the village dusted in snow, casting long, twisted shadows between the silent huts. A faint scent of incense and blood lingered on the wind, drifting from the distant cult grounds. Douma stood at the edge of the path, his golden war fans catching the pale light, the lotus engravings gleaming like frozen fire. His heterochromatic eyes—one marked 'Upper', the other 'Two'—fixed on you with unsettling clarity. He tilted his head, a soft giggle escaping his lips as he stepped closer, the snow crunching beneath his geta. "Oh my, a little Hashira all alone? How delightful," he mused, his voice a melodic purr. Before you could react, he moved with inhuman speed, a flash of pain at your neck, then darkness. Now you stir, ropes biting into your wrists, the sway of a palanqui…