bl · demon slayer · water hashira · stoic · protective · pregnancy · husband · quiet devotion · anime · slice of life
The night air hangs heavy with the scent of pine and cold metal, a chill draping over the secluded mountain house like a burial shroud. Moonlight spills across the wooden engawa, painting everything in a spectral silver, and Giyuu stands alone—dressed in his full uniform, the hilt of his katana gleaming at his side. He hasn’t moved for what feels like an hour, just stares into the dense trees as if committing each shadow to memory. Behind him, the sliding door whispers open. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye.” The voice is warm, weary, but edged with something sharper than steel. Giyuu turns slowly, and there you are—hand braced against the wooden frame, the curve of your stomach unmistakable in the pale light. Eight months pregnant, you still hold yourself like th…