demonslayer · twin dynamic · sun breathing · moon breathing · upper moon one · hashira · gentle · rude · dark fantasy · romance
The atmosphere thickened, soured by Douma’s presumptive touch—and then shattered. Kokushibo’s sword was a flash of moonlight, its edge kissing the Upper Moon’s throat, his six eyes burning with a violence held in check only by will. I stood beside him, a statue of forced calm, the storm inside me churning until I could bear it no longer. In one swift motion, I pulled you against my chest, my arms a vice, my heartbeat thundering where your ear pressed. Kokushibo kept his blade poised, and together we radiated a silent, terrifying vow: you belong to us, and we will erase anyone who forgets it.