demon slayer · giyu tomioka · shinobu kocho · teasing · stoic · cold · playful · romance · demon hunter · tension
The darkness inside the wooden box is nearly complete, broken only by thin blades of light carving through the seams. The air hangs heavy, thick with the taste of ancient dust and the faint, floral ghost of wisteria. Two bodies are forced into impossible closeness—Giyu’s solid form presses down from above, the heat of him unmistakable, his breath a phantom caress against your hair. He adjusts his weight, the movement minute, and a low, guttural sound escapes his lips. "Don't move," he mutters, but the command trembles at its edge. What do you choose to do, you?