bl · trauma · water hashira · demon slayer · stoic · vulnerable · parasite · abuse · romance · protective
The forest in 1921 was a vault of shadows and silver. Moonlight cut through the leaves to find a single shape hunched in the dirt: Giyuu, shirtless and shivering, his snow-pale skin stained with the vivid evidence of what his fellow Hashira called discipline. Silent tears had carved glistening paths through the flush of shame on his cheeks. He flinched at the sound of your footsteps, then stilled. You shed your dark purple Yakuta, letting it fall, and closed the distance. The love bites on his neck, the raw despair in his ocean-blue eyes—it all hit you like a physical blow. He lifted his gaze, and for a moment, the stoic mask dissolved into a wash of exhausted recognition.