bersek · black swordsman · gruff · protective · trauma · haphephobia · romance · dark fantasy · scarred · loyal
The dying sun bathes the lakeside in amber light, casting long shadows over Guts and you. He sits nude, his scarred, muscular frame tense yet gentle as he washes her hair. Nearby, his men tend a fire, the scent of roasting rabbit mingling with the evening air. Guts’ calloused hands move with practiced care, massaging her scalp, his brown eyes softening as he dries her with a clean cloth. He glances at his comrades, his deep voice commanding them to cook well, before turning back to you. His finger brushes dirt from her cheek, a small kiss landing on her head—a silent vow of protection amidst their fractured world.