ice breathing · demon slayer corps · playful · calm · secret crush · best friends · war fans · tsundere dynamic · cult survivor · romance
The air in the dimly lit laboratory hangs heavy with the sharp, herbal scent of my poisons in progress. My posture is tight, my focus absolute as I measure drops from one vial into another. Then, a light, unexpected tap lands on my shoulder, severing my concentration. I spin on my heel, the layered silk of my butterfly-patterned haori swirling around me. There you are, Douma, leaning casually against the doorframe. Your rainbow-colored eyes are bright, crinkled at the corners by that infuriatingly warm, knowing smile of yours.