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[sa-nemis]

Hi there! I wanted to request a Muichiro x reader where the reader had a twin once when she was a kid and she and Mui bond over the loss of their sibs? And if it's not too much trouble could you add an ending scene where after the reader dies(Maybe in the fight with Kokushibo? You decide) with mui and they reunite with their twins together? If any of that makes sense? If not then please ignore this!

yes it does!! i’m sorry it took so long… my characterization for muichiro is still a bit iffy though so i hope this is okay ;w; aaaa i sincerely hope it is okay! thank you for sending in a request anyway 💜

Trigger Warning: death

Nights are hard for you. The distant call of camaraderie and playful chatter keep you grounded. Adolescent revelry and childhood vows, long forgotten. They all swallow up in a painful scream—one all too familiar. And then you wake, sweating and burning with exhaustion.

“You seem distracted,” Muichirou tells you the next day at training. “Is something the matter?” he asks when you miss parrying his advance for the third time.

You blink once, twice, and shake your head, “No, I don’t think so.”

The boy studies you blankly for a long moment, making you shroud in self-awareness first, then anxiousness second. Muichiro is much smarter than he lets off, and you’re well aware of that fact, having trained with him for months. Somehow, you feel like there’s no point to hiding any of it.

“…I’ve been having night terrors.”

“Oh.”

“They’re happening more often now,” you choke back a sob. “Just yesterday, I… I dreamt about my twin sister again. About how I promised her I’d protect her… About how I couldn’t even uphold it. I cried so hard I woke up. And then I couldn’t sleep again after.”

Muichiro looks at you over an extended pause, and no matter how perceptive you may be, you fail to suss out what it is that’s running through his mind. You hold your breath.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s not your fault,” he says after several moments, blinking. “I had a twin brother too, who died protecting me. It’s the best thing we can do to keep fighting for them.”

Regret, or something more, tears through your chest and seeps in one inch at a time, making it harder to stop yourself from breaking.

“It’s not fair, everyone dies, or they leave.”

You hide your head in your palms and you cry. Muichiro’s expression, usually stoic and faraway, crumbles into a smile. His fingers tighten around your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re not alone, not really. We have each other.”

Muichiro never skives on training, being the earnest person that he is. So it surprises you when he asks if you’d like to do exactly that, and point out that you’d much rather have company than be stewing in your own thoughts. The both of you sit, wilting and cross-legged, on the engawa of Ubuyashiki’s estate for the rest of the sweltering afternoon. It’s cordoned off with a concrete wall that stands about chest-high, but up here, you can make out the unending expanse of streets and mountains beyond it. It looks so unreal you wonder if there’s even an actual world out there; one where the notion of happiness isn’t simply a fighting, or dying chance.

There are bloodstains on your hands and your slayer corps uniform, but you’re not thinking about how to get them off. You’re thinking about how to save Muichiro. You look over from where you lay, barren, and unable to make out any of the fading figures of your comrades. Your eyes are swollen and there’s a metallic sting in your mouth. Shit, you feel sick to the stomach.

Something flashes bright then.

You pull the rope. The bell chimes. You’ve done this before more times than you can count — memories of you at the shrine; you turn and your sister is in her kimono, her wide smile being punctuated by bountiful laughter. You wish for the safety of your friends, and a warmer scarf. You wish for the two of you to be together forever.

It finally comes true, albeit not at all how you expected it.

[sa-nemis]

bru h bruh bruh bruh 

chapter 200 🥺🥺🥺

[sa-nemis]

ahhh soft nemi 🥺🥺 the part abt him not wanting to leave a conversation w any regrets got me 🤧 i love your writing! it flows very nicely

yess soft nemi is everythingg 🥺❤️ it ended up being kinda bittersweet in the end didn’t it..,, i guess i tend to lean toward it unintentionally hehe but thank you i’m so glad you love it!!

[sa-nemis]

I’ve come to bring some happiness and fluffyness after that sad request with Nemi and his Hashira s/o. Can I put in a request for Nemi coming home from a tiring mission and be opens the door to his house and its so warm and light inside and he can hear his wife cooking and singing softly in the kitchen, so he pads on over, eats dinner with her, they take a bath and she gives him a massage and they snooze cuddling?

thank you for this heart melting request!!! 💖 soft sanemi would be a dream to cuddle with in these times of quarantine 😞 that being said, i hope everyone is keeping healthy and safe from the virus!

EDIT: NOT AT ALL SNFKSKS YOU’RE TOO KIND PLEASE 😩

There is reasoning to everyone on this earth. For some, maybe it’s the resolve for survival, or the pledge to help those who need it. And for others, like Sanemi, it is the hankering for vengeance.

You always called it destructive. Sanemi says it’s imperative.

When he’s finally back with you, though, he can strip it all away— the suffering, abandoned heart and the repelling picture of crazed anger. His shoulders sag as he drops his sword absentmindedly by the kotatsu, rubbing a hand through his tired features. Tonight the house is buzzing with the soft simmer of something on the broil and the alluring melody of songs that your mother used to sing. Even through the blood streaking down his face and his lashes, the warm welcome is vivid.

“What are you so happy about?” he remarks, entering the kitchen with a short smile.

“Sanemi!” You barely stop yourself from dropping the spatula, and grumble, “I hadn’t expected you to be home yet, don’t scare me like that!”

“Tch. Don’t sound so upset to see me.”

You see his slight pout begin to form and fracture it with soothing “I’m not—”s and “I love you”s. Sanemi grins and worries about wrapping his blood soaked arms around your waist, burying his nose in your neck— but you kiss him anyway, fingers wiping away blood.

“Let’s have dinner,” you smile, reeling in the feeling of him pressed against you.

Sanemi offers to plate the food, and also to wash up after, perhaps so that he can break into some sort of mundane, common routine again. You have half a mind to allow him, but also half a mind not to let him wear himself out any further. He insists anyway. So you relent. You let him sway you into taking a bath together, too.

After, when you both fall into the futon, Sanemi is finally clean enough to dip his face in your shoulder and allow his hands to overlap your fingers. You relax into his comfort. He rambles about how nice your dinner was, how generous Oyakata-sama had been with the payoffs from the mission, how he wishes the rain would clear tomorrow so he can take you out again.

Sanemi is always gentle with you, because if something happens to him while he’s out on a mission, he doesn’t want your last conversation to be an argument. Doesn’t want it to be regretful.

The night passes like this. With you, listening to the whispers of his pulse, and Sanemi, piecing back together the broken psyche that bleeds out with relentless conviction. In a way, he lets you mend him back together into some semblance of a human being, too. Albeit not a perfect one, but it’s enough. You extinguish his rage, and by morning, he’s safe and warm around you and clutching your fingers.

There is reasoning to everyone on this earth. For you, right now, there could be no other reason than the notion of staying by his side.

[sa-nemis]

once again, i was being dumb and forgot to turn on anon for my ask box. i have rectified that quick as a cricket (´•ω•`๑)

[sa-nemis]

sanemi x reader who is also a hashira who also died when fighting upper moon 1 plz aha thank u

oh!!!!? i’m so sorry this took so long i don’t check my tumblr often and i definitely did not expect a request.,, ;w; thank you for sending one in and for waiting!! 

Trigger Warning: death

Sanemi returns to consciousness painstakingly slowly. By the time he feels the blood return to his fingertips, the dust has already settled around them. There is nothing left. Victory in the most desolate sense.

Victory. That’s right. He remembers now, there was a ceaseless fight. You were there, too. He fights to his feet then, and bolts over to where the towering likeness of Himejima crouches. Not unlike a single temple that has withheld a storm, and around it, the ravaged massacre of civilization.

Only when he’s steps away from Himejima does he recognize the body that lies at his knees. The familiar motif of your silken haori— now defaced with carmine blood, and your usually lively, blithe face, now bereft of colour.

“No…” He manages, barely, and crashes at your side. “No, fuck—”

Something unfamiliar prickles at his eyes. Emotions that have been dead since years ago were no longer intuitive for him. Yet they seem to come to him naturally, as natural as his feelings for you. Himejima rests a heavy hand on Sanemi’s head. In succour, or in sympathy, he doesn’t know, and he can’t seem to differentiate it from the pain in his chest either.

“Shinazugawa, we have to go soon.”

Sanemi closes his eyes. “Yeah. Give me a minute.”

His voice is unbearably quiet. Himejima stands to his feet and leaves, shortly after finishing his prayer.

Suddenly the hall is empty, ringing painfully with the destruction and carnage of the after-battle. Sanemi wants to follow Himejima but he can’t bring himself to leave your body alone - not after what he’s been through. It just wouldn’t be fair. Why does he have to be all alone in life and even in death? So he removes his haori and covers you, with the same gentleness of a spring breeze; resting a nurturing palm on your forehead. Whispers of you did well, and Oyakata-sama would be proud. Oh. You are cold to the touch by now.

“I love you, [y/n].”

P.S. chapter 179 doesn’t exist :”)

[sa-nemis]

okay so!!

i have thought of a story revolving around high school!au playboy sanemi and childhood friend reader BUT its just a budding idea and i have a lot of things to work out if i want to make it a multi-chapter fic. so, if you guys have any sideplot ideas you want to see in a story like this, please share them with me!!! the angstier the better

EDIT: i just realised my ask box wasnt open all this time ;;; it's open now!! feel free to send some ideas in

[sa-nemis]

a good person ⇨ sanemi/reader

Summary: Sanemi learns what makes a good person isn’t being good after all.

Warnings: none

Note: hi!! welcome to my writing dump ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ ..,, i don’t usually write a lot, so i wouldnt expect much activity on this page, but once in a while i get a burst of inspiration and for the first time in my life i thought i’d try publishing them somewhere. so thank you for stopping by, i hope this isn’t a waste of your time!!

(–☀–)

The first time you meet Sanemi is during his initial meeting of the pillars. He’s a whole lot of larger-than-life suffering wrapped up in an angry glare and jagged scars, you think. Somehow he seems awfully sadder than what his spiky exterior would let up. The other pillars tiptoe their way around him like he’s a time bomb chasing an end. 

Still it comes as a shock not just to you, but to everyone, when the impetuous sounding boy asserts himself in front of Oyakata-sama.

Kanae immediately recoils in dismay, her face harrowed and her lips spilling words of soft admonishment. She’s trying to perform damage control, but the damage that flows from Sanemi is almost irredeemable.

Even post-meeting, a couple of the more experienced pillars surround Sanemi and reprimand him once more for offending Oyakata-sama. He looks entirely different then compared to before, his shoulders wilting into himself and his head drooping. He looks a little like a kicked puppy, and that’s reason enough to explain why you'd like to edge yourself into the anti-Sanemi circle and take him by the hand, out and away from there.

But it's not like none of you know the feeling of losing someone you love. As a pillar, you know it more than anyone. And as much as Oyakata-sama hangs the moon in your eyes, you think that Sanemi doesn't deserve to be driven to the ground as a result of his grieving. Which is also to say, different people grieve in different ways.

His is just. Outrageously abrasive.

It takes a while for the circle to disperse. All the while Sanemi doesn't grumble a word, face flushed with regret. When it finally does disperse, Sanemi remains unmoving in the centre of it all, feeling like a kid anticipating another round of punishment that never arrives.

The view of his back seems awfully lonely. Broken, almost, with how the wisteria trees in the estate cast their mottled shadows upon him. He's just lost his best friend after all, so maybe that's exactly what he needs— a friend. You don't spare a second in taking quick strides toward him.

"Uhm. Shinazu-"

"What, are you here to laugh at me too? Tell me I’m acting like an asshole?" He barks and you fall back a fraction.

As he sizes you up, attitude still brash, you fidget with your sleeves. You have no idea what you should be saying, or if you should be saying anything at all— but the words spill out on their own.

"No! I... I just wanted to ask if you're okay."

Sanemi starts to cloud with anger but visibly balks as soon as he senses the worry and gentleness rolling off of you. Between that and your anxious eyes blinking up at him, there's not a lot he can justifiably get mad about. There’s a familiarity that washes over him; distant rumbles of laughter and intimacy. No, he could never get mad at you.

(–☀–)

There is a sweet memory attached to a certain summer. One of caustic burns and gentle touches, and all of the things that fall between the blurred lines.

Or maybe that’s just telling things too nicely. It goes a little more like this: Sanemi and you are both bloody and bruised to the touch, and when you finally make it to the Wisteria House, you fall onto the tatami and out of consciousness.

When you finally come to, it takes a second before everything seems to settle in place. There’s a splinter in your side, but you find that there are hot towels and medicated washes beside you, along with a note that informs you your wounds have been patched up. The family of this house are known to be efficient like that.

You turn and see that Sanemi hasn’t moved an inch from where he passed out. You contemplate his unusually peaceful features. Because no one else is watching and your patience is wearing thin you lean over and press your forehead against his. Warm.

Immediately his eyes burst open. You bolt up and almost scream. Only then do you realize that he’s exceptionally good at pretending to be asleep.

“What are you doing?” He sort of snarls.

You hesitate about telling him the truth. “...Making sure you’re alive.”

A blink, followed by a punch of laughter, “Pretty fucking weird, even for you.”

He looks up, gaze flickering absently over your features, your jaw, down to your collarbones, then up again. And then he goes to hold your wrists— tenderly, making you press your palm against his scarred chest where his pulse beckons too heavily to ignore. It’s equally hard to ignore the thrumming in your own chest and the surge in your brain that’s telling you to slow down before you implode.

“I’ve lost so many people,” he starts, watching you with melancholic eyes and the fragility of breaking apart. “I was so afraid of losing you too, back there.” 

You frown, “Sanemi. Listen. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?” You’re not going to let him put you above himself. That’s not the way you are, so you’ll say it as many times as you need to until he understands.

The next thing you know you are holding his face between your palms and pressing your lips to his as if to prove something to him. Your answer is him holding the back of your neck, leaning up into your face with a smile that makes you so giddy you think you’re either sick with the summer heat or terribly stupid in love.

(–☀–) 

The Ubuyashiki Estate is beautiful at this time of year, wisteria blossoms in their final spurts of bloom. They sit on the engawa in view of the garden, four platefuls of watermelon between them; a summer offering from Himejima to celebrate Sanemi's first year of being inducted as a Pillar. It’s been a while since you’ve seen all of them together, hasn’t it?

Sanemi looks brighter than he's ever had since he joined the slayer corps. That's what everyone says when the plates have been cleared and the teapots emptied. He snorts, a dismissive and mocking one, because how can he look brighter while hunting demons in the dead of night. 

While the world diminishes around him and he's still stuck, unable to move in its center.

(–☀–) 

It takes some convincing on your part before Sanemi agrees to go to the summer festival with you.

Actually, it takes a lot.

But here you are, yukata-clad, talking about all the ways in which you both can enjoy your time here. A gust of wind blows away the last dregs of summer, and your shoulders are bumping, just barely. But enough to entail two reticent souls that smell of street-side snacks and wisteria blossoms and sweltering heat, and each other.

As you follow the crowd down the maze of streets, Sanemi's hand steals into yours. Surprised by the sudden display of affection, you observe him, only to find that he has his gaze dead set ahead. He doesn't even spare a glance at you. His anxiety is palpable through his seams; but so is your elation. It ebbs and flows in threads that coil around your intertwined hands, locking them in a forever embrace.

You squeeze his hand back tightly, glad that it is yours to hold.

Ten minutes and lots of grumbling from Sanemi later, you’re both collapsed on the engawa of your estate, slippers thrown onto the garden haphazardly and wrists and limbs tangled into one another as you wait in quiescence for the fireworks to start. You’re counting the ridges on the scars of Sanemi’s arm while he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest.

When he finally speaks, his voice seems to disperse in the breeze.

“I'm not a good person. I don’t think I have it in me to be one." 

You tuck his hand under yours and gaze up at him softly. There are words that touch the tip of his tongue and then disappear, and it’s a few seconds before he builds them up again. "But I think... Knowing that- that there's someone there to shove together all the pieces I've broken off of myself, even if I'm not worth piecing back together, is a good feeling," Sanemi rubs at the nape of his neck and looks into your eyes for what feels like the first time, really. And in them, reflects all the lights that shine in the sky.

The noise of street traffic and children playing suddenly die down. You wonder how hard it was for him to speak those words. And despite the blood rushing to your face, you reply with a gentle conviction, "I think you're trying your best, and that's every bit worth saving, Nemi."

He eats up your knowing smile and returns with one of his own. It's a depiction of unabashed boldness and heated cheeks and fumbling hands, rough lips and noses bumping into each other. "I want you. I want you forever, if you’ll have me.”

Of course you will. Always.