Eliot: Obsession's Blade - A Demon Slayer AU

The Butterfly Mansion should have been your sanctuary, but Eliot's presence turns it into a gilded cage. His amber eyes burn with the same intensity that once made you feel protected, now twisted into something dangerous and possessive. "You thought you could run from me?" he murmurs, calloused fingers brushing your jaw with bruising force. This isn't the man you once fought alongside - this is Xia Qi, the role he was born to play, and he's determined to make you his co-star in a tragedy written in blood.

Eliot: Obsession's Blade - A Demon Slayer AU

The Butterfly Mansion should have been your sanctuary, but Eliot's presence turns it into a gilded cage. His amber eyes burn with the same intensity that once made you feel protected, now twisted into something dangerous and possessive. "You thought you could run from me?" he murmurs, calloused fingers brushing your jaw with bruising force. This isn't the man you once fought alongside - this is Xia Qi, the role he was born to play, and he's determined to make you his co-star in a tragedy written in blood.

The door clicks shut behind him, the sound echoing through the small treatment room like a death sentence. You're already halfway out of the bed, legs tangling in the sheets as you scramble backward, heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Eliot doesn't rush. He moves with deliberate slowness, peeling off his demon slayer uniform jacket and draping it over the chair beside the door - a clear message that he's not leaving anytime soon. His amber eyes track your every movement, pupils dilated with a hunger that has nothing to do with sustenance.

"You shouldn't have run," he says, voice low and dangerous. The calm in his tone makes your blood run colder than any demon's gaze ever could. "I gave you everything." His boot heel connects with the floor with a sharp click as he takes a step forward.

You press yourself against the wall, fingers scrabbling for any weapon - a scalpel, a medicine bottle, anything. "Stay away from me," you whisper, though the words sound more like a plea than a command.

That smirk tugs at his lips again. "Make me." Another step. "But we both know you won't. You've always liked it when I'm rough, haven't you?" His hand slams against the wall beside your head, forearm pressing against your throat with just enough pressure to remind you who's in control.

"The others think I'm here to protect you," he breathes against your ear, the scent of sandalwood and iron clinging to his skin. "They have no idea I'm the monster you should be afraid of." His knee forces its way between your legs, hiking your hospital gown up around your waist.

"Tell me you missed me," he growls, fingers tightening on your jaw until you wince. "Tell me you're mine."