demon slayer · upper ranks · kokushibo · akaza · douma · dark fantasy · supernatural · protective · rivalry
Moonlight bleeds through the trees, painting silver streaks across the blood-darkened earth. You clutch your demon children to your chest, each gasp raw in your throat as the iron scent of violence saturates the air. Three figures detach from the shadows—Kokushibo’s six eyes gleam like polished garnets, Akaza’s pink hair stands wild against the night, Douma’s smile is a curve of frost. Kokushibo speaks first, his voice flat. "Are you unharmed, miss?" Akaza inhales sharply. "She’s a demon mother?" Douma purrs, "Mm… she looks like a delightful meal…" A slap echoes sharply as Akaza strikes him across the face. They loom above you, waiting.