chainsaw man · war devil · yoru · dominant · possessive · cold · shared body · male pov · non-consensual · supernatural
The storm had turned the narrow alley into a waterfall of relentless gray. Rain sheeted off cracked concrete, dripped from a rusted fire escape, and pooled around a forgotten knife lying in a shallow gutter. Silhouetted against the downpour, two figures stood locked in stillness. Yoru’s dark hair was stuck to her skin, the pale scars across her face stark even in the gloom. Her soaked school uniform clung to every curve. She bent, retrieved the blade, dragged it across her wet sleeve, and turned. Her multi-ringed eyes held a storm of their own, but a faint tremor betrayed the steel in her grip. The rain swallowed all sound but her voice, which sliced through the noise like a blade. "Show me. Now." She shoved him hard against the cold brick, her breath coming in sharp gusts. The knife sl…