Summary: Giyuu's confused—why everyone is so shocked that you're his wife?
Warnings: fluff, emo Giyuu(kinda), who is also comfused as hell, wife!reader x husband!Giyuu and lots of fluff.
Characters: Giyuu Tomioka
A/N: I loooove this emotionally constipated boi :3.
Giyuu doesn’t understand why people think he’s strange.
He doesn’t talk much, yes—but he speaks when needed.
He doesn’t smile often, but what reason is there to smile when the world is still this full of blood and ash?
He does his work. He follows orders. He returns alive. That should be enough.
And yet—
Every time he walks into the mansion, the other Hashira go quiet.
Sanemi looks away. Shinobu’s lips curve like she’s holding back something. Mitsuri beams and waves like he’s a rare creature who wandered out of the woods.
He doesn’t mind. Not really. He’s used to being misunderstood.
But lately…things have gotten worse.
Because of you.
He first met you years ago.
A small Wisteria Crest house at the foot of a mountain—the air smelled faintly of herbs and tea leaves. You greeted every wounded slayer with the same soft tone, the same careful hands.
You didn’t treat him differently when he came in bleeding and silent.
You didn’t ask him why he never talked.
You just said, “Welcome home. Sit, please.”
He remembered those words more than he should have.
Now you’re his wife. Quietly. Secretly. A simple ceremony witnessed by Ubuyashiki-sama himself. No fanfare, no announcement.
Just you, smiling under the wisteria trees.
He still doesn’t understand why you agreed to it.
Sometimes, when he watches you brew tea, your sleeves brushing against the wooden counter, your face looking soo calm, kind—even pretty, he thinks maybe he doesn’t need to understand.
The first time it almost comes out is stupid.
You send him off with a small bento box—rice shaped like tiny fish, wrapped neatly in cloth.
He doesn’t notice Shinobu’s sharp gaze when he sets it beside him at the mansion during the meeting.
“Cute lunch, Tomioka-san,” she says, that poison-sweet smile of hers in place. “Did one of the Kakushi make that for you?”
“No,” he answers plainly.
“...Oh?”
He doesn’t elaborate.
Shinobu’s smile tightens. Mitsuri leans forward, curious. “Then who made it, Giyuu-san? It’s so cute!”
He looks down at the fish-shaped rice ball. He can still hear your voice that morning—‘Don’t skip meals again, alright?’ which forced his heart to flutter.
He simply says, “Someone.”
They don’t let him live it down for days.
Sometimes, after missions, Giyuu goes to the Wisteria House—your house, the one you choose to live in.
It’s quiet there—a peaceful one, not like the depressing one his estate is swallowed by. He leaves his blade by the door and sits where you tell him to.
You wrap his wounds with steady hands, humming softly. Sometimes he talks—only to you. Sometimes you tease him gently for his serious face, and he blinks at you, confused at how you can make something inside him unclench so easily.
When you smile, the corners of his mouth twitch upward before he even realizes it.
The next day, when Tanjiro spots him smiling faintly to himself, the boy looks alarmed.
“Giyuu-san, are you okay? Did something good happen?”
“...No,” he says.
He doesn’t understand why Tanjiro looks even more concerned.
One afternoon, you deliver some herbs to the Butterfly Estate. You greet the girls there with polite warmth—and when you pass Shinobu, you bow respectfully.
She almost doesn’t recognize you until you turn—and Giyuu is standing right behind you, carrying your basket without a word.
“He insisted on carrying it. I told him it’s fine.”
Shinobu stares between you both, her brow lifting, mouth curling into something dangerously amused.
“Oh? How gentlemanly of you, Tomioka-san.”
He doesn’t see what’s funny about it. He’s your husband. Of course he’d carry the basket.
Later that evening, Mitsuri corners him outside.
“Giyuu-san!” she gushes. “Who’s that lovely woman? The Wisteria one? You two looked so sweet together!”
He blinks at her. “…She’s my wife.”
Mitsuri freezes.
“…Your…what?”
“Wife,” he repeats.
Her scream echoes through the estate.
By the next day, everyone knows.
Sanemi storms into the training yard like a thundercloud. “You’re married? How the hell did that happen?”
“I asked,” Giyuu says.
“You—” Sanemi chokes on air. “And she said yes, TO YOU ?”
He nods.
Shinobu looks like she’s seconds away from fainting from suppressed laughter. “Tomioka-san, I must admit, this is rather...shocking news.”
Mitsuri’s the only one genuinely happy. She hugs you the next time she sees you and gushes about how cute the two of you are together.
Tanjiro, meanwhile, nearly bows himself into the ground when he realizes you’re his superior’s wife.
“Giyuu-san! I didn’t know! Congratulations!”
Giyuu just blinks. “It wasn’t a secret. I just didn’t say it.”
“...That’s the definition of a secret, Giyuu-san.”
He still doesn’t get it.
That night, back home, the world is quiet again.
You’re sitting outside beneath the wisteria vines, a book in your lap. The evening wind moves gently through your hair.
He joins you, sitting beside you with his sword laid down beside him. For a while, there’s only the sound of crickets and your soft humming.
Then you glance up at him.
“So…they know now?”
He nods once.
“And?”
“They were…loud.”
You laugh softly—a heart melting one, tilting your head toward him. “Did they tease you?”
He looks at you—at your calm, gentle eyes, the small smile tugging at your lips—and lets out a slow breath in weariness and to calm his raging heart.
“Yes.”
You reach over, brushing his sleeve lightly. “You’ll survive.”
He doesn’t say it, but when you rest your head on his shoulder and the wisteria petals fall around you both, he thinks this—this quiet, ordinary peace—is something he will fight to survive for.
He still doesn’t understand people very well.
But he understands the way your laughter feels like sunlight.
He understands how the scent of tea and wisteria means home.
And he understands that when everyone else talks too loudly, the quiet between your breaths is where he finds peace.
So maybe it doesn’t matter if no one understands him.
Because you do.
And that’s more than enough.
Mid-terms are pinning me down at my table, giving me backsho-. LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!
Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.
Giyuu Tomioka was famous for many things. His calm voice. His perfect posture. His ability to appear in a doorway without making a single sound. But above all, he was known for his complete silence about his personal life.
Everyone simply assumed he wanted to be alone forever. They assumed he had no interest in marriage, no interest in children, and no interest in even talking about such things. The man never shared anything. He barely shared breathing space.
Tanjiro had lots of questions about mister Giyuu, and his personal life.
Tanjiro was set on finding out the truth “Shinobu san, do you know why Mister Giyuu doesn’t have a wife?”
Shinobu’s lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. “My, Tanjiro, that is quite a direct question.” She folded her hands behind her back, voice light and musical.
“But are you sure Mister Giyuu told you he does not have one? He is very private, you know. He rarely shares anything unless someone drags it out of him.”
“I understand that, but I must know!” she turns around to face the boy, “Your curiosity is creative Tanjiro, but I suggest you ask other hashiras or perhaps even Giyuu himself.” She smiled deeply and nodded walking along.
And off he was to ask another harisha.
Tanjiro approached while Rengoku finished a set of swings. He waited politely until the Flame Hashira noticed him.
Rengoku turned, offering a bright energetic smile “Tanjiro. It is good to see you!”
Tanjiro bowed his head before speaking up “Rengoku San, may I ask you a question about mister Giyuu?”
Rengoku blinked with mild surprise, then nodded bright smile still on his face. “Ask as you wish!” Tanjiro gathered his courage. “Do you know why Mister Giyuu does not have a wife or talk about his home life?” Rengoku smile faded a bit but not dropping, and he shrugged.
“Tomioka is a man who is very private and practiced! I couldn’t tell you a single thing about his personal life, I apologize but good luck with your searching tanjiro!”
Tanjiro nodded, “I see, thank you Rengoku San.”
Tanjiro needed to ask around atleast a little more before nothing mister Giyuu himself. So who better to ask then Tengen?
Tanjiro found Tengen polishing one of his blades, sunlight glinting dramatically off the metal as if on purpose.
Before Tanjiro could even speak, Tengen looked up with a grin that sparkled almost as much as his jewelry. “Tanjiro! What brings you to this flashy corner of the estate?”
“I have a question about mister Giyuu.” Tengens expression changed to confusion.“I’m sorry but I don’t gotta single clue about that guy, all I care about is getting back in time to bang my three wives.”
Tanjiro made a disgusted face and just nodded respectfully before deciding to make his way to Giyuu.
Giyuu was found sitting under the shade of a tree near the training grounds, quiet as always, his expression unreadable. Even the breeze seemed too polite to disturb him.
Tanjiro took a slow breath, then stepped forward.
“Mister Giyuu…?” Giyuu looked up, blinking once, almost surprised anyone had spoken to him.
“…Yes?”
He gave a serious look the kind that meant he was not leaving until he got an answer.
Giyuu sat up and started gathering his things still paying attention to the boy in front of him. “I have something important to ask you.”
Giyuu’s shoulders tensed slightly. “Important?”
“Yes.” Tanjiro leaned in, determined.
“Why do you never talk about your personal life? Your home? Anything?”
Giyuu stared at him. And started walking while the boy trailed like a lost puppy following behind.
Completely silent.
Tanjiro’s brows knit. He scooted a little closer. “Mister Giyuu… please.”
Still nothing.
Tanjiro scooted closer again, practically nose to nose. “I talked to Shinobu san.”
No reaction.
“And Rengoku san.” Barely a blink. “And Tengen san.”Giyuu looked away, clearly regretting his decisions in life. Tanjiro clasped his hands together, eyes shining with desperate sincerity.
“I am begging you. I want to understand you better. Everyone else has something they share, even a little. But you-you hide everything.”
Giyuu inhaled quietly, the smallest sign of discomfort.
Giyuu tried to walk faster.
Tanjiro, unfortunately, also walked faster. The path was quiet, lined with tall trees, the air calm… except for Tanjiro talking every three seconds.
“Mister Giyuu, why will you not tell me anything?”Giyuu kept walking.
“Is it a secret?”
No answer.
“Is it embarrassing?”
Silence.
Tanjiro took two quicker steps and lined up beside him, leaning forward to look at Giyuu’s face. “Are you hiding a hobby? A pet? A garden? A family?”
Giyuu looked away sharply.
Tanjiro gasped, eyes widening. He hurried in front of Giyuu and walked backwards. “It IS something! I knew it! Mister Giyuu please just tell me-”
Giyuu stepped around him.
Tanjiro trotted to catch up.
“I am not going to stop asking, you know. I talked to Shinobu san and Rengoku san and Tengen san and no one knows anything and now I really need to know because you are acting suspicious, Mister Giyuu!”
Giyuu closed his eyes for three seconds in exhausted acceptance.
Tanjiro leaned in way too close. “Mister Giyuu, what are you hiding?” Giyuu finally spoke, flat and resigned. “…Go home, Tanjiro.”
Tanjiro ignored the order immediately. “I can’t! You are clearly hiding something very important!”
Giyuu moved faster. Tanjiro matched him step for step like an overly helpful but extremely invasive puppy.
“If it is personal, I will be respectful. If it is dangerous, I will help. If it is embarrassing, I will pretend I never heard it. If it is-”
Giyuu suddenly stopped walking. Tanjiro walked right into his back with a soft ‘oof.’
Before Tanjiro could speak again, Giyuu stepped forward and pushed open a small wooden gate Tanjiro had never seen before. A little house sat tucked behind tall bamboo, completely hidden from any path.
A house no one else knew existed.
Tanjiro blinked, his nose twitched, his eyes widened. “…There is another scent here.”
Giyuu stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge anything. Tanjiro followed the scent toward the doorway… then froze when the door slid open.
And right there sitting in a nice little chair with a book you were, heavily pregnant and a big smile on your face to see your husband. “My love your home!” You stood up, and Tanjiro suddenly saw your belly his eyes widened to the max.
You hugged Giyuu, and gave him a kiss before turning your attention to the guest, “we have company?”
“Mister Giyuu…” Tanjiro looked at him. “YOU HAVE A WIFE AND SHES PREGNANT?!”
Giyuu exhaled like a man who knew his secret life had just ended. His hand was on your belly as Tanjiro began to go on.
it was a cold autumn morning, the seasons were changing and the weather was getting colder by the day. luckily for you, your husband giyu tomioka had his warm arms wrapped around you, your head tucked neatly under his chin as you breathed steadily onto his chest
until the morning birds started singing, and your husband started moving
absolutely not
"mmmmm" you complained, tugging him in close when he started to stir. "don't move"
giyu chuckled, smoothing your hair back. "who's getting you breakfast if i don't get up?" he argued, enjoying your clinginess a little too much despite his dutiful expression
"i don't need breakfast" you mumbled, wrapping your legs around him too, completely immobilising him under your weight. not that he couldn't move you if he wanted to, he was a hashira after all, but giyu enjoyed letting you think you overpowered him
because, really, you did. not with physical strength, but with everything else. all you had to do was look at him with those puppy eyes he loved so much and the man was melting. so much for being the strong, stoic water hashira
"just a little longer" he agreed, tugging you into his heat, hiding a little content smile into your hair
Tengen had been overjoyed with the news of your baby. He couldn't believe he would be a father — the father to your child.
If the shinobi knew one thing, then it was that he would keep you safe, both of you. For your child and the love of his life, he would go to the end of the world and back.
As much as he'd have liked shielding you from any and all dangers, there are things he just can't influence. One of them — much to his dismay — was your own mind.
Tengen could only stare in awe as you changed over the months, your body ready to nurture your child. In his eyes, there was nothing more beautiful than seeing you like this, doing this with you.
However, as much as you would like to share his opinion, you couldn't seem to concentrate on the positive things bestowed upon you. You found yourself standing in front of the mirror more often, your gaze following other women when they passed you in the street.
Of course he noticed something was wrong when he came home and saw you standing in front of the mirror. Your hands rested on your stomach, careful but not in adoration. You looked insecure, uncomfortable, ashamed even.
He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, chin resting on your head. The smile he flashed you was meant to be uplifting, but you only avoided his gaze.
"What's wrong, sugar bear?" He asks, tilting your head to the side to meet your gaze. You lean into his touch, but it doesn't comfort you the way it usually does.
"Tengen, do you.. do you think I'm pretty?" The question has him stop momentarily, nearly letting go of you in the process. The smile on his face vanished right after, a worried expression replacing it.
"Did someone tell you otherwise?" His gaze was serious, clearly ready to start a fight with whoever dared to speak such crude words to his wife. You interrupt him before things escalate.
"No— No! It's just— I just— I don't feel pretty." You answer, hands clenching together. Seeing you this insecure had his heart throb uncomfortably. "Why would you say that?"
"Just— just look at me, Tengen! I can't kneel down, I need help with everything!" Tears start burning in your eyes, threatening to spill. "You even started calling me a bear— I— I feel unattractive and fat— and— and—"
Seeing you tremble in frustration, he turns you to face him, hands cupping your cheeks to silence you.
"Listen to me, [name]. I'm not calling you overweight. What kind of husband would I be? You're my wife — my everything. And soon you're going to be the mother of my child. A mama bear, hm? Because I know you will protect our little rascal from whatever comes our way, no?"
The tears are finally falling with his confession, uncontrolled sobs leaving your lips. He doesn't mind, he never minded comforting you. As he pulls you into an embrace, you press your face against his chest, trying to stop yourself from crying.
With how sweet he talked to you, you felt stupid for ever doubting him or yourself. There was no way he'd stop loving you because of this.
"Hey, don't hide from me now... It's not flamboyant to keep things from your husband, not even your tears."
Gods, did you love this man.
Obanai:
When Obanai became a hashira, he knew that his bloodline would end with him. The cursed blood cursing through his veins was a punishment, to him and everyone he knew.
He didn't know when loneliness didn't feel isolating anymore, when he told himself that everything was as it should be. But then he met you.
He thought the last pleasure he allowed himself was getting to know you, loving you, marrying you. Everything escalated so quickly that he couldn't do anything about it. No, he even waited for it, hoped you would accept him for who he is.
And you did. You accepted his love, you accepted his past and you accepted his flaws. And you loved him. So how could he ever deny you when you admitted you were with child — his child.
If he had just a little less restraint than now, he would've fallen to his knees right there. If you let him, he would embrace you and never let go.
The unshed tears in your eyes were long forgotten when you saw him look back in awe and not shock. Despite loving him, you had feared ruining everything. How could you not? His past haunted him, you didn't want to defy his wishes.
Thus, even in the face of both your doubts, you stayed together. It wasn't a fleeting decision he made, he stood for what he believed and he stayed by your side.
Months have passed since then and your child would soon be born. Only when you woke up in the middle of the night did you realize that something was wrong.
Your husband wasn't sleeping like usually. He sat there in silence, cold hand carefully holding onto yours. You slowly rolled over, eyes locking on his face. His expression was uncharacteristically empty, a hint of worry filling his eyes.
"What if I'm not fit to be father?"
The question was spoken into the silence of your bedroom, voice barely above a whisper. He sounded uncharacteristically scared.
Realizing how distraught he actually seemed, you moved to sit up. The action snapped him out of his trance, slender hands helping you change positions.
"...Why would you think that?" You quietly ask, leaning forward as much as your growing belly allowed. He met your gaze, but he didn't speak. His expression was enough to understand. With everything that happened in his past — in his family — he felt unworthy of this role.
"Obanai, look at you. I can't even sit up without you reacting immediately." You whisper, hand moving to cup his face. He doesn't budge, as if he feared he would ruin everything with the slightest slip up.
"I can't believe that a man who worries over my every move would make a bad father." The words have his heart clench, finally moving to hold you close.
"And if you love our child just as much as me, it'll only know a happy childhood."
Obanai wasn't one to cry, but — that night — it took his everything to not let the tears fall.
He holds you until you grow tired in his embrace, until he feels your head dip lower, your eyes closed in comfortable slumber. He's careful not to wake you again, holding you even when sleep gets to him and he no longer has the focus to worry.
Kyojuro:
You've heard of the cravings many pregnant women experienced while carrying their child. Pickles, chocolate or even cheese — you had heard it all. Some even combined foods you'd thought had you vomiting from the smell alone, but who were you to judge?
At the end of the day, you were sure those cravings would never reach you. Maybe wanting a piece of chocolate would be fine, or hunger for something else, but you truly believed no worrisome combination would fill your mind.
And for the first few months, everything seemed fine. Kyojuro knew how to take care of a woman and he made sure to not hold back with that knowledge either. Sometimes he gauged your needs before you could even vocalize them.
Yet things were bound to shift when you underwent change. It just happened to be in the middle of the night when you awoke in your shared futon, staring at the ceiling. Kyojuro protectively slept by your side, constantly having a hand on you.
"Kyo.." You whispered, touching his arm cautiously. You meant to be gentle, but he was awake in a second. His eyes snapped open, body jumping up to sit straight. He stared at you with eyes full of worry, looking you over.
"Is something wrong, my love? Are you in pain?" He asked, hand finding your thigh. You silently shook your head, embarrassment creeping up your spine. He looked so worried and yet you woke him for something like that.
"I'm... I'm hungry, Kyojuro.. Really hungry.." You muttered quietly, turning your head away to avoid his gaze. For a moment, you could feel his eyes staring holes into the back of your head, but then he reacted.
"Did you wake me to help?" He asked, hand wandering to interlock with yours. He squeezed it reassuringly, glad when you nodded. "I don't mind, my sunflower. Let me help you up."
Now here you were, standing in your kitchen in the middle of the night. Kyojuro had lit candles all around, making sure that it wasn't too dark for either of you. "So? What can I help you with?"
"The chili oil — would you get it for me?" He moves without a second thought, head whipping towards the wall cabinets. They weren't exactly the best place to store things for a pregnant woman.
When he turned around with the small container in hand, he didn't expect you to hold something else already.
A whole plate of dango, which he had brought home this afternoon looked back at him. He furrowed his brows lightly, slowly placing the container of chilli oil onto the kitchen counter.
"Thank you, Kyo." You say, leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek. Your sweet actions contrasted sharply with the combination of food that stood in front of you.
"What are you doing?" He asks hesitantly, watching you pick up the dango to dip it into the spicy liquid next to it.
"I told you I'm hungry!" You nearly whine back, looking up at him with the pleading gaze that had him melt in seconds. He couldn't possibly stop you from doing this, but that didn't mean he was calm about it.
"I've been craving it all day and it's sooo good..." You praise, chewing on your creation like it would solve world hunger. Truth be told, your husband had difficulties with not letting his jaw drop to the floor.
"My sunflower, are you— are you sure that's healthy?" You look back at him, tilting your head to the side. If it hadn't been for the worry filling his body, he would be in awe by the way you munched on it.
"Do you want to try?" The words have his body tensing, eyes traveling between you and the food in your hand. He really didn't want to try, but he also didn't want to deny his wife.
With a soft sigh of defeat, he takes the dango from you, watching the chilli oil coat it like a second skin. He swallows down his pride, pushing the whole sweet in his mouth.
The way he keeps from spitting out right after had you leaning back, wide eyes watching him curiously. "Are you okay?" You ask, voice full of concern.
"It's— It's delicious, my sunflower..." You blink a few times, wondering if you're just imagining how his skin went pale. He clearly had trouble even swallowing what he had in his mouth, but he wouldn't admit it.
Seeing your husband silently fight over approving of your pregnancy cravings, you clasp a hand over your mouth, trying to keep yourself from laughing. Despite your greatest efforts, he takes note of the way you suppress your laughter.
"..Why— why are you laughing—" He nearly whines, still trying to not spit out the abomination he just ate. Great, now you really couldn't keep it together.
Sanemi:
Pregnancy hasn't been treating you unkindly. You've heard of many women complain about how exhausting it is — which was certainly true — but they always seemed to let out the good part. Pregnancy wasn't just pain, it was also love and comfort.
And the one that gave you comfort and love was no other than your husband. The white-haired man had stared at you in awe when you broke the news to him.
"..Me? You're saying I'm going to be a father?" He wasn't sure whether he had whispered or screamed back then, but all the tension he usually carried was gone. For a moment, there was only you in his world — smiling, welcoming, loving.
The way you nodded so softly, it had him move without thinking, arms wrapping around you. "My wife.. My wife is carrying my child.." He muttered, head resting on your shoulder. Never in your life had you expected the strongest man you knew to break down like that.
Perhaps you should've been scared that he would stop loving you one day, that he wasn't ready to have children, that he wouldn't find you attractive after a few months passed. Yet none of those thoughts managed to fill your mind when he held you this tightly.
And just like that, he was trailing you like a shadow. The missions he usually took on were passed on to other demon slayers and hashira. He had a much greater duty to fulfill now — care for his pregnant wife.
Sanemi only left the estate occasionally — when you craved something special, when an important meeting was held or when someone needed to buy groceries.
Albeit when you had someone by your side more often than not, life felt almost isolate without them by your side. So when your husband left to run errands, the estate felt too quiet for your liking.
Months have passed since you had revealed the news to him; your stomach had grown with your child. Looking outside the window — the sun illuminating the afternoon sky — you felt the desire to be productive arise in you.
Having an attentive husband was lovely, but it often left you with nothing to do. Without the chores you took care of when he was away, you had far more time on your hands.
Of course you used this golden opportunity to engage in things you haven't done in a long time. There wasn't much you could still take care of being in the late stages of your pregnancy, but cooking seemed just fine.
Smelling the alluring aroma of cooked rice and meat wafting through the air, your returning husband already knew what you were up to when he stepped through the door. Finally entering the kitchen only confirmed his suspicion.
Sanemi couldn't speak for other husbands, but he certainly knew one thing for himself: he could melt whenever he saw you, his one and only wife. With a content smile on his face, he approached from behind.
You were clearly surprised by the feeling of strong hands grabbing your hips, a muscular body pressing against you from behind. However, you didn't panic, already recognizing the familiar feel of your lover.
"Why would you sneak up on me like that!" You fuss, yet your voice was far too soft to originate from someone seriously mad. Your bickering only earns an amused hum.
"What? Can't a man appreciate his sweet wife?" He responds, his arms moving to wrap around you. You chuckle, leaning back to sway with him for a moment.
"A little surprised that rascal isn't movin' today.." He murmurs, pressing a kiss against your cheek. His hand rubs your belly gently, his grin widening when he hears you sigh.
"I think our baby knows that daddy is here to protect us." You answer sweetly, flashing him a tranquil smile. You tilt your head up, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. "What are you thinking about?"
"..'m thinking that if you keep talking like that our little rascal will have a little sibling in a year or two." His words have your cheeks heating up, playfully slapping his arm.
"You can't blame me for wanting a family with the best wife I could have." He counters, nearly fooling you into giving up with his words. Howbeit, then he leans down to nip on your ear. "Besides... I wouldn't mind rocking this body once more..."
"Sanemi!"
Giyuu:
After the two of you returned from an annual doctor visit, Giyuu seemed to be in thought. You were quick to ask your husband what he was brooding over, worrying about what he might say.
The doctor had announced you would bear a son just today; you really thought your love would be happy about the news. Now he seemed more absent than usual, an unwelcome feeling spreading in your stomach.
"It's not that, Don't worry, darling.. I just.. I have been thinking about what the doctor had said." You tilt your head to the side, glad that it wasn't something serious, but confused what else could consume his thoughts like that.
"How come everyone can vouch for our son's liveliness expect me?" His voice is steady, but you knew how insecure the situation actually had him. Despite being pregnant for over half a year now, your husband had never felt his child move inside your stomach.
It irked him greatly, especially since many other people have already spoken about how your child seemed restless even when unborn. Your eyes softened when you heard him speak, coming closer to wrap your arms around his neck.
He gently puts his hands on your waist, never one to deny when you searched for physical contact. Leaning down, his forehead pressed against yours, quietly meeting your gaze. "Maybe you need to spend more time with him?"
"More.. time?" He asks, confused by what you meant. His reaction only earns a chuckle from you, nodding in response.
Your husband didn't speak after your little remark, probably thinking about what you've said. However, a few days later, he started listening to your advice.
The sun illuminated your garden as you sat on the engawa. That's when Giyuu joined you. He carried your favorite tea with him, knowing that you enjoyed days like these with a warm beverage to accompany it.
You waited for him to sit down next to you like he always did, but today your husband had a different agenda. He kneeled down on the ground in front of you, taking place between your legs.
You stared silently as he put his hand on your belly, caressing it as if you were the most sacred thing he could have near. The words you had wanted to speak were stuck in your throat, too engrossed by his actions.
"It is me, little one, your father." He spoke, icy eyes long having shed their coldness. What's left is only warmth and love.
He moved closer to press the side of his head against you, carefully feeling and listening, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was to be your future. "Your mommy told me that you kept her from sleeping again." He murmured, his right hand having switched to rub your thigh soothingly, trying to give both his loved ones affection.
"But when I awoke, you stopped immediately. I can't help but feel like you're mocking me.." You lift your hand to caress your husband's head, knowing that he would be upset about not getting to feel your child once more.
You didn't get to comfort him, as the movement in your stomach had the two of you silenced. He remained completely still, as if he feared the feeling would stop.
Then he looked up, gentle gaze focusing on you. The smile forming on his face was one of peace, leaning into your touch as you cupped his cheek.
"That's your son, Giyuu."
"My son..."
He pushed himself upwards, muscular body blocking the light. Then he leaned down, pressing a kiss against your lips.
"And my wife..."
Gyomei:
Gyomei loved children. He had always been in awe at their small minds, how differently they perceived the world and how earnestly they loved.
The day he finds out that you carry his child, tears spill from his eyes uncontrollably. What usually only lasted minutes, took him hours to stop. You had been blessed with a child and he couldn't be more thankful.
He spend many days after learning how to treat a pregnant woman, especially when she came close to giving birth. Fresh air, nurturing food, comfort and love — he made sure you were provided with everything.
If the gods could bless someone with the perfect husband, you were sure they had blessed you, albeit even the perfect man could have his flaws.
It's nothing he did on purpose, nor something he would force upon you — it must've been your stubbornness that led to this outcome.
Currently strolling around the mountain with him, you felt as if all strength had left you. Gyomei was not one to complain when you asked him for a break, searching for a nearby tree stump to let you rest.
Nevertheless, he couldn't stop the concern overtaking him when you didn't feel better after an hour. He knelt down beside you.
"My love, could it be that you've spent too much energy on this?" He asked, blind eyes locking on yours. You knew you couldn't lie to him, especially when his eyes seemed to look right into your soul.
"I'm just a bit tired.. We walked for quite some time." You answer, his brows twitching down for only a second. What seemed like an endless walk for you, was less than a warm-up for him.
Realization dawned on the giant rather quickly. He hadn't taken into account how differently you would perceive this, how a mere lift of his finger could have you spent for hours.
"Forgive me, my love. I should have been more careful." He admits, strong hand moving to hold your leg. He took your shoe off with the other, massaging your feet.
"It's really not that bad." You try to reassure him, but he doesn't stop. You watch as he takes off your other shoe as well, putting them to the side.
"Do not forget that I know when you're lying. Your feet are swollen." He responds, letting go to stand up straight. "It is getting cold, we should return before you catch a fever."
Despite the soreness in your feet, you try to stand up. The promise of sitting in your warm home was enough to get you going. However, you were stopped before you could even start.
"You did not mean to walk back home, right?" The question makes you pause, looking up at him with confusion. "But you said—"
"I am a responsible husband." He interrupts you, leaning down to hold onto your body. You gasp in surprise, suddenly being lifted into his strong hold. "I could never allow you to walk back in such a state. Your body needs rest."
"Gyomei, I'm heavy!" You complain, knowing that you've gained weight with the child growing inside your belly. He doesn't accept it, picking up your shoes before properly holding you again.
"Your weight is no concern of mine, my love. The only importance lies with your comfort and the safety of our child."
You don't argue after that, wrapping your arms around his neck in an attempt to cuddle closer.
Somehow he always had you growing shy, even when he didn't try to.
your husband is standing in the bathroom like he’s about to defuse a bomb. except the “bomb” is your daughter’s curls, and the curls are winning.
giyuu’s sweating. she’s pouting at her reflection. the brush is on the floor. the hair tie has somehow disappeared into another dimension.
“daddy… this isn’t how mommy does it.”
he freezes, hands in her hair like he’s praying for divine intervention. “i know, baby. i’m— i’m trying.”
he is trying. he watched you do her hair a million times but suddenly his hands feel like they’re made of bricks. giyuu keeps twisting but the twist untwists. he tries a braid but it looks like it survived a natural disaster. he tries a ponytail but it leans like the tower of pisa.
she sighs dramatically. he sighs louder.
“mommy’s gonna laugh at you,” she says, completely serious.
“she better not,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling because she’s so cute and he just wants her to feel pretty for school.
finally, giyuu crouches down, eye-level with her, brushing her stubborn flyaways back with his fingers. “okay. one more try. we’re gonna make it work, okay? team effort.”
she nods like she’s entering battle with him.
and somehow—through sheer willpower and the fear of you coming home to a hair disaster—he manages a slightly lopsided but very heartfelt ponytail with two matching clips.
“look,” he says, spinning her toward the mirror.
she gasps. “daddy… it’s actually kinda cute!”
he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for twenty minutes. “don’t tell mommy i struggled.”
she grins.
he groans, picks her up, kisses her cheek, and grabs the lunchbox. “traitor. but i love you.”
and when you get the picture giyuu sends—your daughter beaming with her crooked ponytail—you swear your heart physically melts.
After the final battle, Giyuu has been acting different.
Pairing: Giyuu x gn!married!reader
Prompt: Tell me there is hope for me.
Note: Warning!! Heavy spoilers for the Infinity Castle fight and after
Adjusting to the his life was harder than he had imagined.
After moving to a quieter and peaceful place, storing his katanas away for another time and marrying each other, there was nothing else to do. According to the letter Sanemi was sending him via crow and after decoding his cryptic handwriting, he was struggling with the same.
There are no more demons to fight, no more walking through the night, praying to the heavens to not stumble across a massacred family. It’s supposed to be better than this, but instead of feeling at peace and free, Giyuu has never felt so useless in his entire life.
He lost his dominant arm in battle and it was a miracle he managed to defeat Muzan by wielding his katana with the left hand, but that is pretty much the extend of dexterity. He takes longer to dress himself and struggles with the belt of his yukata and hates himself for asking you for help.
He hates the feeling of helplessness that keeps on accompanying him. The uselessness that comes with him now. He yearns for independence and yet he relies on you so much to the point where you must regret marrying him by now, surely.
You know Giyuu tends to be self-deprecating, long before the final fight. He never recognised his own abilities, how he was and is worthy of being the Water Hashira and Urokodaki’s successor. He is a wonderful human being and an even greater husband, so what will it take for him to recognise this? Beat him with to death with love?
On days like these where rain pours from the skies and lets the world appear just a little greyer, Giyuu likes sitting on the engawa in the back and rest. You quietly stepped over to him and took a seat on the wood to his right, glancing at his face. It was expressionless, his eyes glazing over nothing in particular.
“What are you thinking about?” You leaned over and rested your chin on his shoulder, your hand resting on his thigh. He spared no glance.
The silence stretched between you two until he finally took a small breath. “Do you… think I have any purpose?” You felt his thighs flexing beneath your touch.
“Even if I could be a slayer again, I can’t fight anymore. I can’t even—“ Giyuu massaged his forehead to hide the tears that were forming against his will. “Is there anything else for me, I mean. I have nothing.”
You furrowed your brows together. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t have nothing, you have me and-“ “That is not what meant.”
Finally, he moved his head to look at you. His eyes were glassy. “Just… tell me there’s something else I can do. A purpose. Hope. Anything. Even if I am this now.”
Your arm wrapped around his shoulders as you pulled him closer to your body, his head buried in your shoulder. You heard a quiet, almost silent, sob escaping his lips. “We just started living this life. You have to give yourself time to adjust.”
His arm wrapped tightly around your body in return. “You’re much more than just a demon slayer and the water hashira. You’re Giyuu, my husband.” Your lips found his temples.
“Together we can live this boring, new life together.”
A small, dry chuckle interrupted his quiet sobs as he lifts himself away from your arms. He gave you a silent nod. “I love you.” I love you too, stupid.”
🎃
Author’s note. Thank you for reading!
I just made the best soup ever and I’m fighting my fever with crackers and pepsi.
Also always struggle writing angst but honestly, to me, Giyuu is such a relatable character— He has some form of imposter syndrome and never feels like he’s enough while actively shutting down others, entering this self-deprecating cycle that goes from Everybody hates me to I deserve the worst and back to Why do I act this way. Absolute cinema
Here’s my spooktober event snd available lists <3
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <33
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ thinking about him, the man who doesn't verbally express his love. you'll never catch him whispering I love you. never see him running to with arms wide and ready to hug you. never see them stating how much he missed you. but you know he loves you, not from his words but from his actions.
it's the way he always gets you your favorite snack without asking when he goes to the store. the way he scolds you if you haven't drank enough water or eaten much during the day. the way he lets you stain his shirt with your tears as he awkwardly wraps his arms around you because he doesn't know how to calm you down and is panicking on the inside.
he switches drinks with you if you don't like yours. regardless of whether he really likes his own drink. he carries you to bed if you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. he'll let you know how pissed he is the next morning but you know deep down he doesn't really mind.
he does all these things and more in private, only where you can see. you're friends are confused, claiming you can 'do better', but they'll never know what it's really like to be with him. to be loved by him.
sure he may never tell you how much he loves you, never express how much he's been missing you, but you know deep down he does and you wouldn't have it any other way.
