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â.ŕłŕż*:ｼ Sanemi Shinazugawa
to where the wind blows // tumblr // ao3 â.á status: finished
benefits for both partners (ideally) // tumblr // ao3 â.á status: finished
Benefits for Both Partners (Ideally) â p.10/10 The End
this is a request from anon but I accidentally deleted it while trying to edit (im new to Tumblr) so im reuploading it for anon's bday! happy birthday anon (huhuhu ăăăăŞăă (ĂłďšĂ˛ď˝Ą)
part one click here
click here if you want to read in Ao3
pairings: sanemixreader/sanemixf!reader
genre: angst, smut, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers but it's too late, unadulterated hatred.
summary:
"The Demon Slayer Corp faces a threat: the dwindling population of their kind. The Ubuyashiki family, desperate to preserve the demon-slaying lineage, initiates a controversial program. As part of this mandate, you're assigned to bear the child of one of the most powerful and yet unstable Wind Hashira: Sanemi Shinazugawa.
As a skilled but also headstrong woman belonging to an infamous medic clan in the village, there was definitely resistance in the beginning, but it all comes down to the both of you to either make it work or be the disappointment of everyone."
wc: 34,862
footnote: hi we have finally concluded this journey. I feel so happy to finish this one, let's meet on my other projects!
Everything Sanemi Shinazugawa has done to this point is futile, fruitless. You were long gone, longer that anyone had ever expected.
Sanemi tried his best to follow whatever lead he has, which was noneâbut you werenât there anymore, you just felt like ceasing to exist the moment your scent was covered by the pungent one of the demon. You were gone.
After couple of weeks Sanemi tried to find you, he was advised to let you go by the council, by council he meant the pillars and Kagaya Ubuyashiki himself, and the one who refused to let you go was Amane Ubuyashiki, silently sending Sanemi letters of information of what couldâve been your sighting; yet none, not even Sanemi himself believe you are still alive. Eventually, you are presumed dead.
Couple weeks ago, the day of missing
âLet me go!! Let me go you bastard!!â You screamed on top of your lungs, feeling claws gripping deep into the back of your thighs as you flew up in the beautiful night sky. Screaming made you tired, catering to ooze the dark blue midnight sky was your only chance of surrenderingâat least there was the beautiful moon, beaming itâs white ray of lights to your demise.
The demon doesnât let you go, however chose a place to land far from everywhere. You didnât think you were still in the area. He took you somewhere far, somewhere far out of town.
âWhere am I?â Gasping through labored breath, your lungs felt like it was empty. It was him, Muzan, the weird man with crimson orbsâshouldâve known he was a demon, the moment he appeared nowhere with his weird looking self. You really underestimated yourself way too much with the kind of knowledge you had, maybe being with Sanemi dumb you down by a lot.
âThese questions are going to get you killed, child.â His voice calm, which scared you even more.
âThen kill me!â You yelled, thumping your fist on your chest so hard you felt a sting.
âWith my pleasure.â Muzan walked to you, dragging his feet as if emerging a type of panic in you, in which it worked.
âThen why am I still alive until now?!â You tried to buy yourself time, but Muzan had already settled in front of you with his claws dragging on both sides of your temple.
âI still need to get something out of you.â He sneered, digging his claws slowly inside your skin, it punctured in a way that you wished someone would just beheaded you by now.
Seeing the fear dancing in your eyes, Muzan had a blast of watching the panic gnawing your wake. He got so fucking excited he started cackling, stopping his claws midway inside your skin.
âYou really are special.â He hummed, taking his claws out of your skin as you wailed in pain, âDo you want to be mine?â He asked, not so innocently but his eyes are twinkling in a demeaning way, licking the blood from his nails.
âYou will make a pretty good demon, my demon. You will be mine instead, standing beside me as we conquer this world onto a new one. We will make a world filled with power and dominion in which we are liberated.â Trying to bemuse you, his knuckles traced the flowing blood on the sides of your face, playing it around like itâs the most exquisite thing heâd ever witnessed.
âYou are beautiful, my child.â He purrs, almost like he really wanted you to be his.
âDonât touch me.â You sobbed through ragged breathing, holding back the aching pain of your wounds and fear.
âSo, you refuse my offer?âÂ
You looked away, unable to think straight. Maybe being a demon is much better, maybe there is a freedom in walking under the moonlight?
âToo bad.â He practically slammed your whole body to the ground, you heard a bone cracked, but didnât know which one.
Before puncturing you with his might, Muzan looked you straight in the eyesâhe fucking loved the fear out of you, but this? You were surrendering with tears gathering in your eyes, the left one trickled earlier than the right, as it sparkled beneath the moonlightâs hymns. Muzan never hesitated before, why the fuck did he now?
âYou are such a beautiful creature, it is too bad that lowlife fuck love you too much. What was his name again? Shinazugawa.â
Your brows furrowed, ceasing into the sadness expression Muzan had ever witnessed in humans.
âI donât want to live anymore, pleaseâŚâ you beg, your cries are getting heavier but you werenât screaming or struggling. You were done with the world, you were ready to die.
Muzan titled aside, amused by this reaction. He approached your face with his, sniffing you as if trying to find any reason you would lie to him about wanting to die; not out of fear of him, you just really want to die no matter what.
âYou really meant that, huh?â Even he was amused.
âYes. Please.â You begged, sweet breaths tickling Muzanâs face. He was angry as fuck, he wished he could take you as his and fuck you everywhere he wanted.
He has a deep obsession with you, he just tried to conceal it.
It all started way back in the village, where the people heal for money and fameâsome healed for fun and good, but mostly that village reeked with unredeemable people. Demon Slayer Corps worked with the village, to heal their swordsmen and swords maker.
Muzan had to see the village himself before destroying it, and there you were, he saw you so deep in the woods healing wild animals, the animals that had potential to maul you in its prime; yet you didnât deter, healing them still. It struck something inside Muzan, something he didnât know yet was so primal he was driving himself crazy.
He wanted to eat you, make you his, keep you and use you as he please.
He wanted to hunt you.
He craved you.
âYou were never afraid of monsters, do you?â Muzan asked, this time he really wanted to hear you say it, although he knew the answer all too well.
You were confused, not able to answer him or digest his question even a bit.
âHmm.â Was the last thing he mumbled before you lost all consciousness as you felt nothing, but burning pain all over your bloodstream.
Three years laterâŚ
âHelp!!! Help!!!â A villager screamed its lungs out, trying to outrun something, someone?
âWhat the fuck is that sound?â Obanaiâs shock is apparent but not as much as the demon slayers kids who ran together with the scared villager, they look like theyâve encountered something beyond comprehension.
âLetâs go, Obanai.â Sanemi quickly brings his sword, jumping through the night as he owns the wind. Obanai sneaks behind, his moves are as agile as a snake, slithering through the night as the road agrees with his every moves. They both look beautiful, as if dancing with the night sky.
And just the moment they arrived on the ground of the castle, an eerie atmosphere greets them like a warm welcome home.
The castle looks like it has been abandoned for years, like hundreds of them. The stones around corrodes, leafs and flowers have grown and latched akin to it. Like it was part of it, like they are never separated.
A big flower, still not blooming finally appears in the center of the chamberâboth Sanemi and Obanai jerk away from the pulp, not wanting to hurt or get close in any way.
âWe need to get around,â Obanai alarms the silver haired man, pointing his sword to the other side of the chamber.
âSheâs inside, the demon. I can smell her so-,â Sanemi cuts himself, as he takes in the scent of the demon deep inside his lungs, he coughed out blood as blood spurts from his mouth and nose, âdo not breathe in! The spores!â Sanemi rips his Haori in half, covering his nose and mouth as quickly as he can, soon Obanai follows.
But as his punctured lungs reviving, he can finally catch the scent. It is all too familiar, he used to smell this scent all over his estate, his body, his hair.
This scent used to be all over your skin. Your lips. Your pussy.
Horror flashes before Sanemiâs eyes.
âIt canât beâŚâ he almost dropped on his knees, Obanai saw and quickly sought out to him, standing just beside himâclose and tight, not letting him deter.
âThis demon is using her blood demon art to distract us, Sanemi.â Obanai concludes, as he steps in front of Sanemi, knowing the latter is too distracted to be using any breathing techniques.
âI know.â Breathing through the pain, Sanemi heaved as he tries to even his breathing.
The flower soon enough blooms, opening itâs petal beautifully as a woman, no, a demon, sits inside right on the bud.
âHmm⌠hi you twoâŚâ You smiled, not sinister, but beautiful.
Both Obanai and Sanemi are too shock to function, their breaths hitched as their hands deter with confusion.
âYou two look so serious! Loosen up!â You joke, swatting your hand in diminishing motion, but both of them still look too stunned; their brows furrowed so deep it would leave a mark, their eyes shot wide like an orange.
âYouâŚâ Sanemi tries his best to utter a word, mumble it out through his mask, but you can still understand that he canât say anything clearly due to the shock. Both of them are in complete shock.
You change, almost too drasticallyânone would have recognize you unless they were truly close to you, like Sanemi was.
âMe.â You rolled your eyes, meeting Sanemi again after a long time is truly the cherry on top of your night. Only nights you have for the last three years, only nighttime is enjoyable for you and Sanemi has to ruin it for arriving.
âWhy are youâŚâ you take a step out of your flowerbed, the vines of flowers quickly handed your feet as you make your sultry walk to your husband, the vines making itâs way, ââŚ.always haunting me.â Standing in front of Sanemi, heâs still as tall and as big as he always been. This shit turns you on so much.
âHumm, delicious.â You purr, Sanemi swats his sword in front of you but the vines snatched his precious sword away, throwing it to the other side of the chamber.
âSo impolite! You are in my house!â Anger trickled your bloodstream, for some reason, ever since becoming a demon being angry is so much easier than holding back your feelings back when you were human; although the memories are almost distant now, you can only remember the hatred.
The way Sanemi treated you, the way he always chose Kanae, the way your parents were⌠everything bad is just in your head, bending like a dead flower. But was it all really your memories?
Sanemi doesnât say anything but he is furious, you can see from his eyesâthough there are regrets and yearning far beneath his pale orbs.
âAnd you, youâre not welcome here.â You said, directing it to Obanai as your right hand extended to his sideâsoon the vines of flowers followed your hand movement, gesturing a wrap, then swooshing your fingers like throwing motion; as quickly as possible the vines started wrapping Obanai tightly, slamming him out of the castle through the stonewall.
âNow that heâs away. Oh, donât worry he wouldnât die just like that wonât he.â You chuckle, finding Sanemiâs silence funnier than before.
Sanemi still doesnât budge, but this time you didnât hear his heart hammering anymoreâhe has calmed down, he controls his emotions pretty well. You nodded in agreement, tilting your head side to side as if studying him from near.
He doesnât budge, instead he grabs you by the neck and draws your face closer to his masked one.
âWhat a disgusting little thing you have turned yourself into.â Was Sanemi first words to you since three years ago.
You grabbed his mask and ripped it off, slashing his face with your nails.
âSuch an ugly thing to say to your wife, husband.â You giggle, tripping away from his grab as easy as fleeting flower petal in spring.
âDo you like my arts?â You whisper, now already appearing behind him without any trace, Sanemiâs jaw almost dropped from how taken aback he is, he couldâve been killedâŚbut he isnât.
Sanemi did look, he take a beat to look at all the flowers surrounding the castle and you, it is indeed exquisite, but he can feel the evil looming and ogling from everywhere.
You, oh, you; you look the most unforgettable and unforgiving. Your hair is not auburn anymore, it has turn absolutely red, as bright red as fresh blood from a freshly killed deerâyour face, it is still as beautiful as ever, you were born with it. The freckles in your face has turned into small little flowers, as if they are tattooed on your skin. He couldnât get enough of thinking about your skin⌠it is olive, but it looks like itâs always wet, like you have been smothered with oil.
Your legs are slender, wrapped with vines of pinkish flowers, Sanemi doesnât know what type of flower it is, but he knows thereâs no time for him to ponder the most mundane things when youâre already trying to slash him in two.
Sanemi jumps away, avoiding the slash of big, thick, long vine trying to slam him into two parts.
âWhoops.â You placed your hand on your mouth, covering it like a little kid found stealing candiesâyour nails are red, with shades of black down to your fingers up until your wrists, from wrists until your arms the colors of your skin has been splotched with greenâa vitiligo.
âYou fuckinâ missed!â Sanemi shouts as you hiss, jumping on the flower petals you made to chase Sanemi who tried to flee the chamber, you swish your hand as vines of flowers started to crowd him, aiming for his ankles and legs.
âGet off me you fucking demon!â Sanemi roars, slamming his sword so deep in your vines that you wail like a screaming ghostâsome of the vines are connected with your body, any slashes from it will occur on your skin.
âOh husband, youâre fucking stupid to do that!â
âIâm not your husband, I never was.â Sanemiâs roaring with anger, but hearing that coming out of his mouth doesnât hurt you as much as beforeâit doesnât make you feel anything but an unfinished anger, something deep and wretched buried inside you; itâs calling to you, wailing to youâŚbut it seems distant, like a light seeping through a deep hole. You donât know why it angers you, but it does although you canât quite put your finger on it.
âTill death to us apart!!!â You beam, trying to giggle your way out of the anger as you jump highâsoaring in the chamber, ready to hammer Sanemi with your waves of vines; he knows your moves, as soon as youâre approaching him, youâve changed your course as he avoided it.
Diving down to Sanemi, he has his sword ready to slash your neckâbut you know heâll do that, he was your husbandâŚright? Eh, why does the memory falter away? Who is this guy again? I knew him right? Sanemi Shinazugawa my husband⌠is he? Whose memories were this?
You swirl to the side, letting the vines of flowers overwhelm him instead of yourselfâyou made yourself around him, standing just behind the tall man as you blow a nectar on him.
âFuck!!â Sanemi screams, the nectar spreads on his back all the way to his face and neckâit wasnât just a normal nectar, this thing burns human. It will lit their skin on invisible fire, it cracks them up until the layer underneath, all the first few layers will be gone and if itâs not rinse as soon as possible, they will have nothing but their bones.
Sanemi doesnât know this, but he knows curses and blood demon art so close to his heart that it felt like a gospel for himâthe man quickly took the vial he has hanging on his waist and took it, smashing the glass on the floor as soon as he finished.
He jumps meters away in front of you, âIf you try to kill me, you need a better way, wife.â Sanemi spat, but his form is ready to dive down as slash you into two.
âYou sure you donât miss me?â You tried to ask him, still playing with your vines of flowers.
âNever did.â The skin starts to grow back again, slowly but surely. Shinobuâs mixes.
âAnd youâre sure you donât love me?â
âTonight Iâm going to put an end to your terror of this village.â
âTerror? I only eat those stupid pervert men. I donât eat kids and women.â Your face disgusted, tongue out with finger pointing inside.
Confusion flashes in Sanemiâs eyes, though it sounds like heâs reaching and scrabbling his own brain like a beggarâit feels like youâre trying to tell him something, knowing you told him which shouldâve probably been your secret.
âWhat do you mean by that?â Sanemi darts a question back to you, his sword swinging on his side.
âChildren and women, I just donât want them. My hunger quench more towards men, especially perverted men. Evil men. Men in generalâŚâ you climb the vines on top of the ceiling, seating yourself comfortably on the swing; it seems to have made out of your own flowers, ââŚand I donât like men. They are all evil. I donât think there was a man in my life who was good enough to me.â You twirl your hair as your legs hung, clutching on the swing of vines as your body hanging upside down, like a bat.
Even in your death youâre playful, the demon version of yourself is more carefree, still hardheaded but not crowded with deep sorrow anymoreâSanemi thought.
He hates demons to every core and inch in his body, but talking to you seems captivating, maybe itâs the nectar that allow his mind to be bent.
âI was your husband once,â Sanemi stalks you like youâre his prey, watching every move you make as youâre dangling upside down from the vinesâheâs trying to find your weakness but it seems like you hide it so well, as you twirl your burning red hair.
âYou were, but you were such a bad husband to me, though.â You giggled, this time it sounds haunting that Sanemiâs shoulders shudder.
âWas I?â Sanemiâs voice deep and teasing, squatting down just below you, he taps his thighs, allowing you to come down like youâre his pet. You tilt your upside down head to the side, curious as you let yourself glide down to his lap.
âShow me how bad I was to you,â he whispers, leaning into your lips as the last millisecond he used to slash your throat, though he doesnât get deep enough; he still got to slash your skin, which means you do have weakness.
Being lured by unwelcome attraction.
You scream, your wails filled the chamber like an echo from hundreds of crying maiden, Sanemi close his ears as he feels blood trickling down from his earlobes.
âAllow me to show you how youâve hurt me, husband.â You sob, throwing every moves youâve got to hurt Sanemi, but he hides well behind the wooden desk using it as his one and only shield.
âFace me!â You scream, puncturing the wooden desk with arrows of your flowers. Sanemi knows he will be defeated this time, for some reason your power exceeds any demons he has ever encountered in his life. He met lot of them, some are lower moon demons.
He never encountered an upper moon before. Could it be? He ponders, his breath hitched.
âCome out, come out and play!!!â You yell, abstract moves youâve been throwing at himâthough with all the power you have, you are not well trained for any combats.
Sanemi rises from the back of your wooden desk as something inside him clicked, standing firm and tall; his sword placed firmly on his shoulders.
âYouâre going to die tonight, upper moon demon.â His voice wretched, puzzled with pain and rageâhow could he possibly let this happen?
You bow deep, mocking him, mocking everything this man has ever done to you.
You and Sanemi drive towards each other in unfathomable speed; face to face with him, heâs seconds away from slashing your neck with his sword, and youâre seconds away from puncturing him with your blades of leafs flying on your shoulders, ready like arrowsâyou know this will be the end, the anger inside you are screaming to kill him, only him, as if there is unfinished rage inside you towards this man.Â
You couldnât remember all the details lately, itâs all faltering away from your brain. Who is this man again? Why am I so angry towards him? He was my husband, right? Wasnât he? Shinazugawa⌠silver hair⌠purple eyes⌠who is he? Why am I crying?
And in those milliseconds before death, everything slashes between his and your eyes, you can almost see him open his mouth, muttering something so soft you can only hear it now as someone with amped hearing.
âIâm sorry, for everything. Iâm sorry for not loving you properly. But I couldnât, it will always be her.â Sanemi whispers as his lips reaches your ear.
Oh. Now you remember. Kanae Kocho. His first love. It was all a blur.
Sanemi slashed your neck clean with one swing, as you changed your nails to a sharp root and stabbed it on his chestâright on; puncturing through his heart all the way to his back making your arm went through his whole body like a nail on a firm wall.
âThat was really mean, SanemiâŚâ your head rolled away from your body, facing Sanemi who is hugging your headless body close to his as your arm punctured through his upper body still unmoved, Sanemi cries.
âI really did love you, even for awhile.â You sobbed, your head starting to dissipate slowly.
âI know.â Sanemi answers, coughing a lot of blood from his mouth as his body drops beside your dissipating head.
âI tried to love you, I did.â He mirthlessly laugh, all the blood came spurting out from his mouth.
âMaybe on another life, would you let meâŚâ he coughs again, this time everything feels numb already, ââŚlet me be your proper husband. To love you with all my heart.â He closes his eyes, finally accepting heâs dying alongside you.
âI will.â You whisper, watching him die first as your eyes slowly disappear from the reality as well.
âI will find youâŚâ Sanemi whispers, calling your name for the last time as he finally exhaled his last breath.
You disappeared into the beautiful night, the moon and stars finally greeting you with a hollow smile on their faces.
Hundreds of years laterâŚ
Autumn of 2026,
âWhat is wrong with him, truthfully?â Your quirky friend, Mitsuri, reaches out to take the coffee from the campusâ canteen. It is packed today, everyone just wished to have a warmer shelter, the wind is blowing really hard outside.
âHim, him who?â Youâre still gasping for air, being late for the morning class is hell alreadyâbut nothing beats being late to a class which you chose out of a whim, this class teaches about brief history of the world, and these two weeks itâs going to study about the time Japan faced an overwhelming murder case in which people are constantly dying and dismembered at nighttime for over hundreds of years.
âHim. Professor Shinazugawa. The new history lecturer. The last lecturer had to resign ever since his wife suddenly passed away-,â Mitsuri pauses herself, trying to chug down her cafe latte, ââŚwait⌠you didnât know? Why is your face so shocked?â Her green eyes bulging out.
âBecause I wasnât in class this morning, duh.â You rolled your eyes, ordering one hot chocolate with extra whipped cream just for the fun of it, itâs autumn anyway.
âYou shouldâve seen the new guy. Heâs likeâŚâ Mitsuri words falter away from her mouth as she looks behind you with horrors, you on the other hand was still busy scrolling Spotify for a new whimsy autumn playlist, waiting for your mug of hot chocolate.
âLike??â You didnât take your eyes off your phone; well manicured nails with vines of flowers embroidered on each of your nail beds, the typing sound crisp enough, âI mean I understand you probably have a big fat crush on him. Let me guess, tall, muscles bulging, eyes deep with sorrow and trauma⌠he probably wears glasses low enough just to be an aesthetic. Oh plus heâs probably a pervert wanting to fuck one of his students.â You amuse yourself, laughing so hard just thinking about it.
âYou were absent in my class this morning, and this is how you apologize for missing a session, young girl?â
What. The. Fuck.
âOh shit- I mean holy fuck- no, fuck, Iâm sorry you must be Professor Shinazugawa.â You turn around too fast that your hair is slamming the hell out of your own face, puffing out the strands on your face, you finally see the tall man crowding you, heâs so freaking tall and doesnât look like heâs normal sized like other men.
Holy shit he is fucking hot.
Heâs wearing a shirt and the arms rolled up tidily, glasses with a frame that is not too thick for his own goodâhis muscle is flexing with every moves, like itâs about to rip apart. His hair is fucking silver, too clean as it is pushed back. His face is clean, with jawline too sharp to even be called a jaw, his cheeks are a bit hollow as if he has been skipping meals.
Heâs wearing a very normal trousers that fit his formal shirt so well, his belt is mesmerizing as much as his thick winter boots as if heâs going to war in the snow next month.
But his eyes⌠his eyes depict that he is carrying a lot of sorrows, this is the first time youâve seen someone with eyes too grey it is almost purple.
When Sanemi looks at your face, his breathing stopped in an instantâyour hair is auburn with red highlights, he assumes you dye it. Your polo shirt is too tight, 3 buttons from the top are unbuttoned leaving your bear cleavage to be seen by every fucking person in this goddamn campus. He almost shifted in sudden primal possessiveness; it fucking scares him because he barely knows you.
You have a thick scarf placed beside you on the stool with your thick long jacket, all brown colored. Your skirt is the same color as your polo, itâs navy blue and too short for his own goodâbut your stocking is also brown, though lighter than your scarf and jacket. You are wearing winter UGG for your shoes.
You are charming in his eyes. The sudden attraction burns his chest through his back, what the hell?
âProfessor Shinazugawa?â Snapping out of his own trance, Sanemi cleared his throat before taking off his specs.
âYou, meet me after your classes. We need to talk.â His voice low, cowering you with his deadly gaze, he passes by youâgrazing a little as heâs reaching for his order.
When he reaches near you, his nose caught scents that is too familiar for him to ignore, it is mixture of wisteria, white flower, jasmine, and honeysuckle⌠with a tinge of fresh grass, and washed laundry.
Sanemiâs eyes are almost teary as he quickly wipes it off, you caught a glimpse of it before touching his armâyou never initiate anything towards a man, for a big reason youâve hated being touched by a man or getting near them, so your hand flying by itself to touch Sanemi was too much.
Both of you are in shock, before you quickly gather up your stuff and flee, but without noticing Sanemi has quickly caught up on your small hurried steps.
âWhy are you following me!â You scream, youâre not scared of him although heâs very intimidating, you just wanted to be left alone.
âIâm not following you, itâs your hot chocolate order.â He replied firmly, stopping just few steps away grabbing your hot chocolate order with his own hot coffee.
âCome and take it.â He orders, arm stretching out your drink.
Without hesitating, you take timid steps towards him, taking the drink away from his grip.
He watches your every move, eyes maintaining on you.
You look up, staring into his gaze with your big orbs. Lashes fluttering shy.
this is a request from anon but I accidentally deleted it while trying to edit (im new to Tumblr) so im reuploading it for anon's bday! happy birthday anon (huhuhu ăăăăŞăă (ĂłďšĂ˛ď˝Ą)
part one click here
part ten click here
click here if you want to read in Ao3
pairings: sanemixreader/sanemixf!reader
genre: angst, smut, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers but it's too late, unadulterated hatred.
summary:
"The Demon Slayer Corp faces a threat: the dwindling population of their kind. The Ubuyashiki family, desperate to preserve the demon-slaying lineage, initiates a controversial program. As part of this mandate, you're assigned to bear the child of one of the most powerful and yet unstable Wind Hashira: Sanemi Shinazugawa.
As a skilled but also headstrong woman belonging to an infamous medic clan in the village, there was definitely resistance in the beginning, but it all comes down to the both of you to either make it work or be the disappointment of everyone."
wc: 30,009 and counting
footnote: hi sorry for posting again I just cant wait to quickly finish this and onto my next story!!
Trigger warnings: suicide attempt
You ran.
You donât know how long you've been running, only stopping in between your tracks to take a breath. Your chest is pounding frantically, sending twinge of pain everywhere in your body but stopping means youâre giving up.
Maybe you do try to kill yourself by failing your heart. Who knows.
âFuck everything. Fuck!â You exhaled so hard, your heart beating out of your chest. It is insane you can still breathe even though it is so hard to catch an air. Once youâve calmed down, you realized youâre already so deep in the forest.
Your heart settled down, the weather feels cold against your skin now as chills prickled onto your skin, that feeling is coming back again⌠the worthlessness.
âI donât deserve to live am I?â You ponder, lamenting as your eyes stare into the abyss of darkness.
âIt is good if a demon came right now and kill me. Even better if they take me away from this place and turn me into one.â You mumble, gathering your tired legs against your chest, the night has gone relentlessly cold. You shiver down to the bones.
Seeing a piece of broken stones beside you, there is no thinking twice to it.
Your life has been shit your entire life, the healing clan that you feel apart of was just a facade of how your parents treated you. Chuckling by the fact that youâre an unreliable narrator in your own life, blocking all the bad memories from back in the village and pretend everything was okay.
Nothing has ever been okay in your life.
You killed men, after allâthough they were all dangerous, perverted men but they were human and you took their lives. It has been haunting you, crisp in your wake.
On the other hand of not so important memories resurfaced, parents expected so much from you, father beating you every day like it was his sport, and for the weirdness of them all the whole village was crazy in worshipping the lakeâtalk about looney bin.
The pain, heartbreak youâre having is not just mere sadness because a man wouldnât love you back after months of being together and fucking wholeheartedly, itâs never merely about Sanemi not accepting you for being his pretend wife.
The heartbreak, the pain, is about all the lives that you could have if only you were not born in this lifetime. If only you can skip your life right now to live another one far in the unforeseeable future.
The life you couldâve had if you didnât take other people lives now you know youâre cursed and doom to live a reincarnation to burn off your sins.
To ponder, it is the fact that nothing is ever right, and you feel out of place the whole time. But at least by being someoneâs pretend wife you had something to do with your lifeâbuilding your own happiness away from your village; have your own farm in which Sanemi silently and solely gave to you.
He presented you a luxurious and lavish estate for you to roam, do your art and cook. He never had once asked you to be a maid in his life, he just lets you be⌠a free bird, although still caged and chained to his name.
But at the very least you were free and yet your heart yearns for more, for real loveâin which Sanemi couldnât give.
But you are humans after all, you always want more and in your life more means pain.
When you yearn more, pain and danger seem to roam your wayâscarring you for good. Those lives you tookâŚmaybe it is good that you take your own life right now to redeem yourself.
Or so you thought.
Your tears havenât stopped streaming down your wet cheeks, youâre hiccuping through your breath and the night just get colder and colder, mind is spiraling over the same things. You just wish to die right now, right here, not until a familiar voice greeted you.
âWell hello, look who it is.â Muzan bows, standing tall and firm with his hands on his back.
You didnât bother to reply, only look at him with your bloodshot eyes and nodded with respect, before taking off the scene.
But Muzan, the strange man that he is, halt you from fleeing.
âAnd where do you think youâre going in this scary night, young lady?â He asks, not moving an inch from where he stands. The aura that he emits is giving you the fear for whatever reason it feels much better to be in the wild rather than being with this⌠whatever this stranger is.
âIâm going home, my husband is probably looking for me.â You replied still trying to be utmost polite, not wanting to hurt or set this stranger off. Last time this happened, you had to kill those perverted men.Â
Stop. Thinking. About. It.Â
âI can promise you Iâm not a monster, young one.â As if he reads your mind, you nodded once again before walking back home.
âIt wonât change anything, you know.â He adds, your little feet stopped.
âWhat do you mean?â You turn back, eyes maintaining on his crimson orbs. The man is peculiar, his skin is too white for his own good; as if heâs not part from your world. His eyes are red, crimson in colorâa complete stark with his dark black hair which looks like it is the darkest hue of the palette. Who is this mysterious foreigner?
âGoing back there, to the place that made you like this.â Muzan took his steps closer to you, as he reaches your body heâs already crowding you with his lean built. You flinched, feeling scared for no apparent reason.
âDo not be afraid, my child.â He adds again, giving you a handkerchief for your tears.Â
This is so wrong. If anyone from the village see that youâre engaging with another man so deep in the forest it will set everything backward, it will make everything worst.
âI really need to leave,â you sounded breathless, you canât find your voice or strength to do so.
âIt wonât change a thing, and you will always find yourself back here again with tears in your eyes.â That was the last thing Muzan said before he lets you go.
And he was a hundred percent right. Going back to the Wind Estate made everything worst. Sanemi is avoiding you at every moment he can, he will flee whenever he sees you arriving in the same place as where heâs standing.
He avoids you like youâre the plague and it pains your chest to see something like this. The relationship was going smooth, but you realized it was because you were trying too hard to please him where he has just been avoiding and accepting your silence.Â
Heâs only there for the sheer sex.
Buddha, what have you got yourself into?
But the days got easier for a tad bit, you are busy.
Doing everything you can to take your mind off, doing the nonexistent laundry, cooking for yourself, farming, went to the nearest mine to look at some crystals, tend to the animals in the farm.
The cows arenât talkative, same with your pretend husband Sanemi. But at least the cows give unsolicited head-butts every now and then which made you calm enough to finally have the courage, conjuring the question that youâve been holding back to ask Sanemi.
The night isnât too young, the dining room is empty but you sitting there with your tea. Suddenly the door opens, and before it quickly gets slammed shut, your mouth blasted the question out loud.
âWhat is happening to us?â You ask Sanemi, voice loud and bold as heâs getting ready to leave the dining room, the owls outside be the witness.
Sanemi is silent, but his eyes are showing different kind of emotions. Thereâs whirlwind of pain in his eyes, as if he wants to say it out loud, vomit the words out.
âSay something.â You practically begged him to talk at this point, but there he is again, going mute and mouth sealed shut; diverting his purple orbs somewhere else, anywhere but to look at you.
âBe a man and talk to me now, Shinazugawa!â This is a rare case where you yellâthough not too blaring, yet your body flinch by how strong youâre holding yourself up till now.
Sanemi doesnât move and yet the horror in his eyes when he realized your words was something else entirely.
âWhat do you mean âusâ? There is no âusâ to begin with.â Sanemi spat, turning on his heels once again. His massive height used to turn you on, but now itâs just overwhelming for you to see that heâs out of reach, torturing your fears.
You feel like someone is strangling you, your throat is too tight, so tight that breathing feels secondary right now.
âBut I am your wife!â Slamming your perfectly brewed tea on the wooden tableâyou stood up for yourself, literally.
âYouâre nothing else but a tool for the corps! Donât you get it? or youâre just too shallow to understand the game here?!â Not continuing his aim for the exit, Sanemi took steps to get closer and closer towards you instead, closing the gap between him and you.Â
The dining room is silent now, the space around seems like itâs too vast. Too big. But he feels too far, although you can vividly feel his breath skittering on your skin.
Heâs boiled, oh, his blood boils whenever he looks at you.Â
The wretched hate he has towards you, the unadulterated pain he has screwing inside him whenever youâre around⌠but sometimes your lips, eyes, and your voice felt like a sirenâdrowning him, eating him alive, limbs torn bits by bits.
Youâre drowning him sober, suffocating the man with your song.
âOh now youâre fuckinâ quiet huh? Donât run your mouth when you donât know what yaâ ass talkinâ bout.â His accents slips up as much as the anger in his eyes seeping down to his flaring nose. Shoulders rise high, and quickly lowersâheâs trying to even his breathing and holding back.
âWhy am I never enough? When am I going to be good for you?! I donât even want to be here!â Your voice is achingly loud, painful on your throat and head. Sanemi was about to leave you alone, but hearing this question arise again sets him off more than he thought heâll let himself.
âWhy? You never really love me, do you?â Your sobs are coming out uncontrollably, and if you looked pathetic before now you look more than miserable and shameful.Â
You grabbed the hem of his Haori, shaking his body as if it will do anything.
âYouâre blaming me for everything didnât you? As if I have control over anything! I was sold like a broodmare and got matched to bear your fucking children⌠as if I do not have control over my body!â
âShut up! I didnât ask for this too, I never want this for myself. For us!â Sanemi didnât push your hands away from his hem, but he grabbed both of your armsâtrying to get his words straight into your brain. Short-circuit it may seem.
You scoffed, the man just still didnât get it, huh? If you didnât feel the way you feel this whole time, him bringing Kanaeâs picture in his Haori wouldnât be a big deal. Heâs so dense and shallow.
âSanemi, donât you get it? Iâm falling in love with you!â The words just blurted out of your mouth, featherless and fearless.
Sanemi drops his grip on your arms, as if he saw Kanaeâs death two times in front of his wake.
The silence that went through the room for the second time sent both his and your ears ringing, itâs too quiet that the nature couldnât react. The owls have stopped hooting, and the wind has stopped reacting.
The space and time is in pause, mutually listening to what is happening in the Wind Estate.
Sanemi was too stunned to utter a single word, until he decided to say something equally shocking.
âHow would I know about your âfeelingsâ when all I feel when I see you is just hate.â Sanemiâs words were piercing, but his tone flat and monotone. You look up at him, panting with rage as your eyes craze on his left and right eyes, his hair is pushed down tonightâcovering him from the truth of your gaze.
Fucking crazy bastard.
âYou hate me?!â You scoffed, running your fingers on your scalp as you feel like your chest is going to burst any moment, âI hate myself more, Shinazugawa! How can you ever realize my feelings for you when all you think is just Kanae! Sheâs fucking dead! MOVE ON!â You screamed, face red as if itâs going to explode. Oh you feel dizzy.
And for Sanemi it was the last straw before he lost it.
âWhat did you just say?â His growls with disgust, threatening you.
âI said what I said.â You lowered your voice, not to cower but youâre going to pass out if you keep exploding like a freaking bomb. Youâre taking your breath gently, softly; slowing your heart rate.
Sanemi sneers, he takes tons of steps back from you until heâs bumping the exit door, he has a vile smirk plastered on his face as if youâre just a demon he encounters.
âBecause youâre not goddamn fuckinâ Kanae. Thatâs why! It should have been her. It should have been her with me. Wed to me. Bearing my children, but what? I am stuck here, to relive my duty, to be with you! It is disgusting for you to even think of falling in love with me when all I did was just using your cunt for a child and fuck you with hate. Such a shame for you; youâre so broken inside that a monster being nice to you is where you draw the line for love.â
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
You shake your head not believing the thing that came out from Sanemiâs mouth. You have read his files, you have talked with Ubuyashiki about his personality and upbringingâbut you never know it will be this rotten, this broken, wretched and unfixable.
The man is a monster, just like everybody else thinks.
âThis is why Kanae died. She is a karma for you because youâre such a vile human being.â You mumbled, but you know he heard it, he did; thatâs why he left the room without uttering another words but slamming the dining room slide door so hard it breaks into three pieces.
The Kakushi were in fact standing just outside the dining room, ready to serve you and the husband, but the fight break off so they had to listen to everything, awkwardly and painfully.
âWhat are you lookinâ at!â Sanemi yells at every one of them before they all running out of the hallway like rats.
âShinazugawa-samaâŚâ one of the kakushi stutters, her shaking hand pointing to the destroyed dining door.
âWhat?!â He barks back, slamming his fist on the wooden pillar of his estateâs hallway.
âMrs. Shinazugawa⌠where is sheâŚsheâs goneâŚâ the kakushi voice was weak, her shaking index finger is still shaking horribly, as if thunder has struck her consciousness, ââŚsomeoneâŚsomethingâŚtook herâŚâ she almost fainted in place.
Sanemi looks around quickly, but didnât find any trace whatsoever.Â
What is it? A demon? How? This place is surrounded by hectares of Wisteria trees. Thus, why now? Why tonight?
That means, the thing who took you have been waitingâbidding itâs time on the ticking bomb.
Something clicked inside Sanemiâs scrambled thought. It is definitely a demon as the pungent smell suddenly strikes his and the rest of the kakushiâs noses; everyone grunted in unison.
âFuck. Fuck. Fuck.â He paces, grabbing his swords that heâd left outside the dining room. He gears up within seconds, chasing down the path to his estateâs exit towards nothing but shadow of the long, terrible night ahead.
reading a âthere was only one bed ficâ and the characters have decided to share the bed as long as they stay on their sides. iâm really glad they figured that whole mess out and am excited to read about them staying on their sides of the bed until morning^-^
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë summary: Draco Malfoy, a death eater slash student in Durmstrang, is an assigned assassin with one ultimate order to kill Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, a top student in Hogwarts. Not only because she is a mudblood, she will also contribute in the downfall of Lord Voldemort according to the prophecy they received.
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë words count: 4,233 counting
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë posted in Ao3 as well (here)
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë parts: ch.1 (and counting)
chapter summary: Draco sees Hermione for the first time and wishes he can finish the 'job' quickly. he can't stand her, not her caramel hair, not her golden brown eyes and certainly not her freckles. he loathes her.
It has become clear that Hermione Granger doesnât like the Dining Hall when itâs overly crowded with hundreds of students gathering, chitchatting very loudly. She doesnât mind public spaces, but she prefers public spaces where everyone is quiet and diligently listening to a speech or a class, and right now the Dining Hall hasnât officially started the dinner yetâeveryone acts like chattering monkeys in the jungle.
âFor the love of Gods, I canât concentrate!â She groans, slamming the book she has been hanging her nose on for the first time tonight.
âMione, weâre going to have dinner! Why are you bumming yourself out again?â Ronald Weasley, who has his eyes everywhere, starts to notice her annoyance. He then shifted near to her just to make her calm down a bit.
It doesnât work. Hermione gets even more restless.
âStop. What are you trying to do?â She sneers, one eyebrow shot up.
âMaking you feel a bit better?â Ron asks back, unsure of what heâs doing.
But it kind of works, although it is really hard for the caramel-haired girl to admit.
They laugh together about how silly everything has becomeâthe eight-year-olds, theyâve spent the entire years together since the first one, and never once has Hermione wished things to be different. She loves this.
Harry Potter has been busy plotting against Lord Voldemort with Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione and Ron are also part of it, but not as knee-deep as Harry in it. The sixth year was a turning point for the orderâs activation, since it has been known that the Death Eaters have been very brave attacking muggle cities and citizens.
Shaking the thought in her head, she focuses back to whatâs important right now. Love. Relationship. Kindling with friends. Everything is just the way it is, and to be honest she knows a war is brewingâsheâs ready, she will be.
Not realizing when sheâs so down in her own head, Harry has finally settled down beside her with the cutest grin on his face. A stupid one.
âWhat? Why are you smiling like that?â Hermione raises another eyebrow of hers. These two boys are going to make her wrinkle faster than any potion.
âThe plan is going to work.â Harry just simply whispered under his breath, his eyes as green as the meadows.
âPlan? What plan?â Ron chimes in, his red hair glowing with the candles in the hall.
âLater. Tonight Iâll tell you.â Harry quips quickly before Dumbledore steps up to the podium.Â
And with that, the dinner will be starting soon.
ââŚand before we start the feast, I would like to welcome a transfer student who will be joining us for the rest of the year. The final year.â The old man sounded like heâs having the most fun his entire year, before clasping both of his hands together like the mastermind he is.
âA very talented young man who will be joining Slytherin house for the final year, a strong wizard from our beloved brother school. I am sure everyone remembers the fourth year!â He nodded towards the Gryffindor table, yeah no one can forget that time Harry got pulled into the game and all hell broke loose. Lost a student.
âNo, not the Beauxbatons!â He tried to shush the excited crowd of boys cheering.
âI welcome our one and only transfer student from Durmstrang!â
With that the whole school went silent as the door opened, only to reveal a tall-looking man with hair as white as the snow, no⌠itâs not white. His hairâs almost as bright as a unicornâs silver tail, his hair is silver?!
His eyes are soulless, his face too white that his jawline popped sharply. His cheeks are a bit sunken, not the type of malnourished oneâbut just entirely good genetics. He has his hair pushed back, clean and formed. His uniform is red, like a soldier with brown-black fur latched from his left shoulder down to his right waist. Waist, yes⌠his waist looked like he had worked out tirelessly, his shoulders broad and strong it will be painful to bump himâas if Hermione can bump him, heâs too tall for her own good⌠taller than Ron.
He is so preppy. So serious.
âSo curious.â Ginny murmurs as if she read Hermioneâs head. The curly-haired girl cleared her throat before jabbing the ginger beauty with her elbows.
âHeâs probably just going to be another ruthless bully like Pansy Parkinson.â Hermione tried to remind Ginny, as the latter looked like she was enjoying the view too much.
He walked very slowly, like he owned the game, like he owned the entire Dining Hallâlike he knew his place and who he was. There was a determination in his gaze, a strong hatred and pale rage clouded with sadness. He looked like he was a trouble who was in deep.
Hermione took her gaze back to her book, now that the hall was quiet.
The moment the intense boy stood beside Dumbledore, he scanned the room as if he were looking for prey.
Bingo.
The boy set his eyes on the curly-haired girl. Her caramel hair stood out amongst her ginger-haired friends and the blondes. It was such a color, he thought.
She had her nose deep in her books, her brows furrowed, earning her early wrinklesâhe thought again. But her lashes were thick as if she had cried a lot, making them grow longer and longer. Her eyebrows were not as bushy as her hair; they were rather formed well.
The disgusting things sprawled across her faceâ what was that again? Freckles. They looked so prominent on herâhe fucking loathed them. Dirty-looking, like the mudblood that she was.
He hated her already.
âWelcome to Hogwarts! Do you mind introducing yourself? A story to tell the Hogwarts students about Durmstrang, or the reason that you are sent here?â Dumbledore shifted aside from his podium to give the pathetic boy a way.
Draco eyed Dumbledore for a few seconds, thinking the old man knew about the mission Death Eaters sent him to do, but no way he knew; no one was around at the time, not even Severus Snape.
âDraco Malfoy from Durmstrang Institute. Thank you.â Bold. Loud. Cold. Draco tips his head sternly before managing himself to leave the podium. Dumbledore opens and closes his mouth immediately as the boy finds his own seat already, in the pool of Slytherinâwhere he belongs, with his childhood friends.
From the end of his seat, heâs greeted with warmth and a lot of chit-chat from his fellow childhood friends. For the first time in a long time, the silver-haired boy smiled genuinely. But his smile immediately drops when his eyes yet again catch his prey, Hermione Granger, who finally stopped reading her books as she was busy chewing.
Sheâs chewing whilst laughing with her friends. Draco assumes they are⌠Ronald Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom⌠and⌠he snarls.
Harry Potter.
If he can choose who he hates more than Hermione Granger, it will be Harry Potter. But then he canât choose at all. For the very least, Potter is half-half. Whilst Granger?
âPathetic mudblood.â Draco mumbles from his lips, covering his mouth with the silver cup heâs drinking from.
Pansy Parkinson laughs as she heard that, nodding alongside him as she tried to get closer to his broad shoulders.
âI miss you, Draco.â She purrs, but he doesnât care. He never does. Not to anyone.
The first class of the day is potions.Â
Draco Malfoy is ahead in his class. The boy is too smart for his own good. Heâd aced everything ever since the first year until his last one. So joining the classes again wouldnât be much of a problem for him. He knows the academic system in Durmstrang is much more advanced and prone to combat instead of textbooks. He can manage.
He can manage until that freaking mudblood came into the classroom with books thicker than the rest.
âMorning!â Hermione chirps to Parvati Patil, whoâs sitting alone at the front. She left the boys to fend for themselves who chose to sit at the back,losers Draco thought.
He watches her, the way her hair tangled everywhere in the caramel curl bush, the way her feet drag into the class as if she will have the happiest time in it whereas he can tell that potions is her least favorite by the apparent eye bags under her eyes.
Last night her eye bags werenât that dark. It was okay at best. She hadnât slept more than four hours for that kind of eye bags, he knew for that is how he is trained in Durmstrang most of the days too.
He looks away, not wanting to look desperate.
Hermione settles herself adjacent to Dracoâs seat, but Parvati starts to whisper something towards her that fished her attention.
âThatâs that guy.â She whispers, trying to be lowkey but Hermione, the awkward ball that she is, made it painfully obvious whom theyâre gossiping about.
âYou know he wouldnât even be interested in you even if youâre in Slytherin, Parvati.â Pansy exclaims, wanting the whole class to hear.
Goyle and Crabbe laugh so hard, but Zambini and Nott only snigger. Malfoy on the other hand is unamused.
âItâs okay. At least she doesnât have a wretched personality to worry about unlike certain someone.â Hermione bites back, not bothering to look back.
âWhat did you just say to me?â Pansy fixed her seat, leaning into her own table to listen clearlyâDraco who sits beside her has an expression change, heâs enticed.
âI said that you have a wretched personality.â Hermione adds, finally looking back at Pansy, eyeing her with her golden-brown eyes.
Huh. Draco didnât see that last night, the bright color of her eyes.
He doesnât care, crossing his arms across his chest as he leans back into his seatâamusing in the catfight that is about to happen.
âFor a mudblood, you have such a big mouth, bushy.â Pansy bites her harder, the whole Slytherin kids are throwing âwooâ.
âAt least I have hair, you donât even have an inch of what I have.â Hermione throws back, biting her bottom lip, knowing that it hits Pansyâs nerves. But she bit it for her own reason; sheâs holding back tears and anger.
Draco still doesnât have an expression on his face, but Hermioneâs eyes shake for a second, and it lands on Dracoâs pale orbs.
They lock gaze for merely seconds before she stares back at Pansy.
âAnd sheâs still way smarter than you too, bowl hair.â Ron chimes from the back as Gryffindor kids âbooâ them back. Harryâs cackles are crispy in the room, but his eyes are filled with worryâhe knows firsthand how Hermione feels about being called a mudblood.
Hermione clears her throat as she slowly turns back to her seat, Draco still watching her with trained eyes.Â
Her shoulders are shaking, not too hard to be noticed by just anyone until one focuses on it, and damn⌠as much as he loathes her, it is so hard to unfocus from the girl.
Hermione crumpled her fist so tight that it starts to change color to white; he stares as she dugs her nails deep into her palmâŚ
Interesting. She has issues.
Draco tilts his head to the side; he smirks; Hermione can be called any names but hates being called a mudblood more than anything else. It is something damning in the first place; also, the shame she has is big; she hates being a mudblood, but she canât blame her parents. She is torn in her own place.
Fickle, easy to break. He thought.
But he canât hate her out loud like everyone else. The energy he has to hold back not calling her all the slurs is too big; heâs enhancing it every second. But he has bigger missions.
Draco needs to befriend her by the order of Lord Voldemort, or at the very least, can be someone she talks to. He needs to know the inside of Dumbledoreâs army through her, and once heâs done taking all the information he needs, he will do the thing he has been waiting for, to kill her.
Though the class started with drama, it ends pretty briefly and well.
As everyone slowly leaves the class for individual learning, Hermione takes her time to pack all of her books before she dashes off to the professor, asking all the things she didnât get in the class. Draco watches as he needs to stay behind as well for this is his first class ever in Hogwarts, thus having extra assignments.
âMiss Granger, you can study with Mister Malfoy if youâre still unable to understand. I am sure Mister Malfoy would be delighted to have a friend. You kids can study from each other, yes?âÂ
And that is how the two of them ended up alone in the potions classroom.
âUm, hi.â Hermione coldly greets him; she doesnât particularly have any problem with him as she remembered he wasnât part of the kids just now who call her names or laugh at her.
Draco doesnât answer. He fucking hates her.
Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood.
âSo, which one do you donât understand?â She asks, innocently as her eyes beam with curiosity. Sheâs watching him with those big brown eyes of hers; it gives Draco the scares as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat; why is his heart beating faster than normal?
Hermione still has her eyes on him, her lashes thick and long, fluttering with the morning rays of light that puncture through the small windows of the basement classroom.
Why the fuck is she glowing?
âSo?â She hangs her question with an awkward smile; she still tries to get into his head.
Draco shakes his head slowly with brows furrowed; his face looks pissed.
âWhat do you mean?â He asks back. This is the first time she heard his voice so clearly and close to her. She didnât quite catch his voice back in the Dining Hall as she was busy with her readings.
Sheâs taken aback at how heavy his voice sounded like. Itâs not high-pitched like Nott, itâs not as gruff as Zambiniâsurely not as kiddy as Harryâs voice or mumbled like Ronâs.
Dracoâs voice is heavy with an accent, like his cords are framed by the mountain of rocky ice and snow.Â
Like deep, buried, cold.
Hermione shudders before stuttering, âUhâthat, you know.â Bollocks, she gives up talking.
âI understand everything. I donât need your help.â He replied curtly. The smile in her face drops as it flips to hurt.
âOh. I apologize.â She mumbles, shifting back into her own space in front of him before digging her own books and notes.Â
Too. Damn. Hard. Why is it so hard to play nice to her? Is it because sheâs a mudblood? Mudblood is a wretched thing that has ever happened to the wizarding world.
Draco exhaled so hard as if heâs exhausted of thinking, spiraling. He clears his throat before starting over.
âI mean, I already know everything since the curriculum is advanced back in Durmstrang Institute.â He tried so hard to sound normal. Inside, he is fuming with disgust just to talk to her. But he needs to do this, for the mission, for the war.
âInteresting!â Her mood is so easy to play with. Draco places his chin on his own palm before assessing her. Hermione looks at him weirdly before looking down at her books and herself.
âWhat?â She asks, confusion laced in her words.
âYou surely donât have any idea of what youâre doing in this class, are you?â Dracoâs lips fumbled into a disgusted pout. Hermione, knowing that he hits right on the spot, opens and closes her mouth like a dying fish.
âThat is not nice to say out loud, you know.â She tried to change the subject, still staring at Dracoâs lazy eyes.
âI was just saying, it doesnât take bollocks to guess one.â He adds, âI can teach you this potion at least.â He points to Draught of Peace.
âThat one is so hard to master, I havenât been able to do it for ages.â Hermione frowns, scratching her head with her lousy wand.
Even her wand is as ugly as she is, a mudblood.
Draco proceeds to listen to Hermione explaining where she has her problems, where she always gets the potion wrong.
And yet, although he is fuming inside and his face shows no emotions but flat, listening to Hermione has made Draco, somehow, in his own challenged way, forget that he is part of the war that is about to happen.
That he is a soldier, a skilled assassin in the Death Eaters who has gone on missions to murder many lives, muggle and mudblood, on his hands.
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë summary: Draco Malfoy, a death eater slash student in Durmstrang, is an assigned assassin with one ultimate order to kill Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, a top student in Hogwarts. Not only because she is a mudblood, she will also contribute in the downfall of Lord Voldemort according to the prophecy they received.
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë words count: 4,233 counting
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë posted in Ao3 as well (here)
ŕźËâđŚš.Ë parts: ch.2 (and counting)
"You will need to kill her."
The sound of fire crippling, burning the remaining woods Dobby took just an hour ago. This house, his house, is always his favorite sanctuary whenever he visits back from Durmstrang, library is his favorite spot to hide from his dotting mother, Narcissa Black Malfoy and his nagging father, Lucius Malfoy.
Malfoy Manor is his place, it's the only place he feels like he is safe from the pressure of everyone, the pressure of school and the heavy burden of being a Death Eater.
The Assassin.
And now he is sitting there, in the head of the dining table in their manor, Lord Voldemort. Draco doesn't know what entice him to choose Malfoy Manor to be the headquarters of meetings with the murderous Death Eaters, but he can't say anything, he can't say no. He will never say no to his Lord. As the sacred 28 family of the Wizarding World, the choice is to be one of them or die trying to deny, the sacred 28 is rooted in pureblood supremacy, in the beliefs that wizarding family needs to be clean of all mud, of filthy blood and somehow along the way it matches with Lord   Voldemort's ideology.
"Harry Potter belongs to me and I know he will die in my hands, but we have another problem..." Voldemort's voice have the notion of being breathy, almost throaty as if he doesn't have the energy to talk, it was like a hiss of a snake. It never settles right with Draco, the way he's talking always sets the silver-blond haired off. "There is this girl... his friend," he stops, looks around but nobody ever dare to look him in the eye, no one.
"A mudblood will contribute of my downfall, she is fighting with Harry Potter." He chuckles, demeaning and disgusted. "A mudblood." he repeats, now he doesn't laugh, not anymore. His voice stern and clean, he got up from his seat.
"A mudblood will kill me!" He yells, slamming both his pale fits on the table, the table where Draco shares delicious dinner with his family every night, the table where he will celebrate Christmas with his dotting mother, the table he crammed up his homework. He flinches, his shoulder jolted up.
"That will never happen, my Lord. I can kill her for you, quick and easy my Lord." Bellatrix Lestrange grovels, she shoved her chest out with shoulder high and broad-she knows she can do it, easy to kill mudblood for her, it is her sport.
She twirls her hair, nodding in agreement to herself with doe crazy eyes pleading to the Dark Lord, Draco sits in silence and disgust.
"No." Is the only answer Voldemort utters, he looks around the room as if deep in thinking, his piercing red gaze lowered when he sees Draco with his blank stare and face, emotionless. He is detached.
"I want you, my boy." His disgustingly long nails pointed to Draco, the paleness in his face spread even more, his eyes slashed with horror in split second before he grounds himself to normalcy.Â
Show no emotions. Show no emotions. Show no emotions. Show no emotions. Show no emotions. Show no emotions. Show no emotions. Show no emotions.
"Yes, my Lord?" Draco clears his throat, nodding to Voldemort.
"You will infiltrate Hogwarts, meet her and kill her."
"How do you want me to do it? Quick or?" The pale looking man still has his blank stare with no emotions, but now his pale blue orbs focused on the Dark Lord.
"No. Slow. I want you to take your time, there is no need to rush my young boy." Voldemort hissed, his long nails petting Nagini, his beloved snake, "We have time... my friend here still need to do his bidding with the ministry, I want everything in my hands first before I make any more move. I want everything to conclude beautifully, gracefully." He continued, the snake is now traveling across the dining table before going back to her master.
Draco hates snakes.
"I want you to see Hogwarts, study how they protect the castle, find ways for us to get in without causing any ruckus, befriend her... asks her questions about the castle, about Harry Potter. Whatever you need to do as a genius young boy to make my plan a success, I will reward your family a fortune." Voldemort nods, he keeps nodding slowly as if wanting Draco to understand what he meant without ever needing to repeat, he loves it when his followers just understand him.
He hates needing to teach them anything, or guide them.Â
"But my Lord, he is in Durmstrang now doing his last semester and I-" Lucius Malfoy's voice is shaking, very much apparent that he is scared to voice out his opinions but he fears nothing more than Draco Malfoy being a student in Hogwarts.
He did his best to send his little boy to Durmstrang, his enough power and money he has succeeded in sending him away where only pureblood enters the school, distancing his only son from the hogwash of Hogwarts.
Voldemort stops his motion on touching Nagini, yet his red gaze still remains in the skin of his beautiful snake. The corner of his mouth lifts up, and it shut Lucius immediately with whimpers of apologies he uttered, hiding behind his long silver hair.
Draco doesn't hear the crackling sound of the woods anymore, the fire has burned out long time ago for that the entire dining room has gone colder, shivers running down his spine to his ankles. It's cold, he hates cold. He hates Durmstrang.
Cold. Durmstrang is cold. Latched on the alps of snow and ice. He hates cold.
He feels cold.
Draco shifts uncomfortably, hugging himself softly, trying to warm up.
"You start tomorrow, Draco..." Voldemort stands behind him, he doesn't notice his moves... yet what to expect from a man like him, is he even a man at all. Draco hears Voldemort whispers before he vanished into thin air with Nagini, never to be seen until he is called upon or he calls. He feels warmer now, better, his paleness gone.
Tomorrow is the new start of year, he finds himself dragged to eight year in Durmstrang already, what a great surprise. Every year he comes back to that school he wishes he can somehow kill himself so that he can escape the heavy feeling on his chest that is twisted like a rust screw.
He doesn't like Durmstrang, he wants to be in Hogwarts for his childhood friends all went to that school, he was separated from the kids ever since they were just ten going eleven, he hasn't seen them for a long time as well for their schedules somehow clashes. Zabini, Nott, Parkinson, those are his friends whom he misses dearly.Â
Before he gets up from his seat, the fireplace burns with green fire, floo from who?
As if the universe answers Draco's mind, Igor Karkaroff appears from the fireplace, he is a notorious Death Eater who has been the headmaster of Durmstrang for a while now. Nobody is brave enough to knock him down, some whispers are saying that he is part of the Death Eater, which is foremost true, but no one believes that Voldemort is back.
"You, young man, apologies for the sudden plan but I have already arranged your move to Hogwarts. Temporary of course, your father begged me not to move you permanently so I talked with Dumbledore that my smartest student in the final year will be joining Hogwarts for a student exchange kind of thing, I don't know that he is that dumb and oblivious to accept you maybe it's the age talking."
He laughed, taking the scotch from the small table near the fire place before gulping it down like it is water. He has the energy to talk for a long time, quickly as well, Draco doesn't like him tad bit.
"Thank you, sir. Father, mum." Draco nods to each one of them, but only kisses his mother on the cheek. He leaves the dining room and closed the door behind him, before he sighs the longest breath, his eyes are trailing along the hallway of his manor. He feels weird, as if he is excited.
He looks down to his sweaty palms before squeezing them, he feels more alive than ever.
Hai!!!! How are you doing? :3 I wanted to see if I could request a sanemi x reader where maybe Mitsuri is talking to reader and tells her that she should try to be open to love in order to help her destress from her job as a slayer. Reader admits that she already has someone shes in love with. Mitsuri just happens to put the pieces together that its sanemi. Reader expresses her insecurities that he deserves someone thats not as average as she thinks she is and that she would never even be on his radar. Mitsuri gets called away so reader is walking back to her place just to find out sanemi was around the corner and had heard everything. He in turn confesses! You can take it anywhere you want with it!! Thank you <3
Snowflake in the Wind
pairings: sanemixreader/sanemixf!reader
genre: slight angst, fluff âĄ
wc: 3,708
answer: oh this is such a great request I immediately finished this in one sitting I feel so inspired and domestic writing thissss!! thank you
Another training bites the dust. You are the only Demon Slayer member who is using the Ice Breathing technique; moreover, you are not exactly just another âmemberâ since youâve been newly promoted as Hashira. The Ice Hashira.
The title? Yes, it does sound good, but to remind you that everything youâre doing here just leads to perdition⌠the title doesnât sound good at all, but a burden.
Maybe youâre being harsh, or the stress of mastering the breathing technique that has come naturally to you feels a bit stressful. Not to mention youâre training with the coldest and alarmingly ruthless Hashira of them all: Giyuu Tomioka and Sanemi Shinazugawa.Â
Training with Tomioka was a bit easy; he didnât talk much, which made everything less awkward and more physical demand on 1v1. But training with the latter, on the other handâŚ
âNightmare!!!â Mitsuri, the Love Hashira, squealed from afar just by seeing you. Did she read your mind, or is she implying something else? You wouldnât put your coin to guess with this one; sheâs weird, all right.
Weird, but your favorite Hashira of them all.
âWhat is it this time?â You asked her, still walking slowly towards her, dragging your exhausted feet after dueling with Sanemi. His barking orders and whatnots are starting to rummage through your ears; it hurts, literally.
Dropping all the formalities with Mitsuri has been the norm between you and her, just the two of you.Â
Excited squeals escaped her mouth yet again; she dashes towards you, expanding her toned arms to get a hug out of you.
âI miss you so much!! My bubbles!!!â She excitedly exclaims when you hug her back, wrapping your less toned and muscular arms around her toned body. She is built very well, amazingly strong and muscular. You envy her strengthâcombat strength and agility are amazing.
Mitsuri grabs your face; she studies you for a beat, then she bit her lower lip dramatically; she then sighs loudly in front of your faceâwhat? What is it this time?
âYou look so stressed out, my loveâŚâ The beaming smile thatâs usually plastered on her face like a summer festival mask is nowhere to be found tonight; she looks palpably sad.
âIâm just tired, love.â You tried to amuse her by touching her cheeks as well, but seeing there are no blush splattered on her cheeks means that she meant business when she looked worried.
âUmm, exhaustion itself doesnât look like this, bubbles. You are always filled with joy even when youâre tired. What is it?â She tried to drag you down and sit by the porch of the Hashira headquarters.Â
Ever since a year ago, Master Ubuyashiki has made a beautiful quarter for the Hashira. He created a bathhouse inside with steaming onsen and a view of a mountain. He also has rooms built for rest and sleeping, another space he made for the Hashira to wind down with tea and snacks. Since the other mansion was made for meetings, this one is made soundly for decompressing.
And tonight, you needed it most rather than coming back to your own estate first thing after intense practice.
Settling down by the porch with your legs dangling down towards the pebbled garden, Mitsuri comfortably slouched beside you as she rested her head on your shoulder.
âI can feel it, you know. When people donât feel alright inside.â Her voice now sounded more like a murmur. She whispered calmly as she exhaled soft breathing from her nose.Â
âYeah.â You quip. Canât think of anything else when the stars in the dark sky tonight are so exquisiteâthere are so many things to be thankful for, but your heart yearns for more.
Sanemi.
Out of all people, why him? The unforgiving, ruthless guy who ditched his own brother. The guy who would hurt a fly even if that fly didnât do anything wrong. The guy who barks orders around like his life depends on it. The guy who wouldnât mind hurting anyone in front of him.Â
Yet you found everything about him gratifyingâthe way heâs ruthless to the ones who deserve it, selfishly fought, and secluded himself from everyone so that when he passed, no one could feel the pain as much as he did in his life.
Yes, you can read him as easily as an open book. But at the same time, you can never get close to him, to talk more than âone step forward with deep breathingâ or âyour form is a mess, you will die in seconds.â
It is so hard to get close to him, to merely talk out of practice duties.
He never sees you.
He never knows you are always there hoping heâll bat a single gaze on you.
He moves with the wind, nonchalant, always there, but invisible.
Mitsuri stares at your longing look, your gaze is fixed on the starry skies, but hers is on yours.
âYou should give love a chance.â She smiles with her words, you know even without seeing her face. Her eyes are sparkling with hope.
âHuh?â Caught off guard, you stare back at her slouched body resting against your shoulder blade.
âYep. You need to give love a chance, bubbles. If you keep pondering about it but never make an actual move, it is futile in the long run.âÂ
You slowly turn your head back up and stare at the starry sky again.Â
She is right. You never actually make the move because youâve always implied that Sanemi is not interested.
It is true. He is not interested.
âBut, even if I tried, I donât think that person is interested in me. Itâs not just the cold demeanor⌠I mean, give Tomioka-san as an example. He is cold, but I can talk to him, you know? Heâs responsive in his good days, but even in his bad days, there is still something human.â You grumbled, thinking of all the interactions you have with Giyuâmaking him as someone you can compare with Sanemi is actually quite stretching and delusional, since Giyu is not even almost the same as extracted from the world as Sanemi.
Giyu is an introvert overall, but Sanemi isâŚ
âDifferent.â Mitsuri answers your head as if sheâs reading your palm for the future.
âDifferent?â You question her back, not knowing what she meant by that blunt statement.
âThe person you yearn for is different from Tomioka-san, bubbles. You canât just put people in boxes knowing everyone is raised differently. Moreover, the people that you know, the members⌠the Hashira⌠they are all inherently different. Everyone has their own thing, and you need to approach everyone with how it fits them nicely. And you too.â
âSo you assume I need to have a romantic relationship with someone from the Corps?â You raised your eyebrow playfully, nudging her body.
âI do not assume. You did. I was just continuing where you started. I just remind you to be open about love, but suddenly youâre referring to Tomioka-san as an example from someoneâŚâ before Mitsuri trails off, your palm covering her lush lips annoyingly.
This time the pink-green haired girl actually did assume.Â
For some reason, there is no way you have kindled a romantic attraction with anyone outside the Corps since youâve been here when your age became two digits, yes, 10. You are the only kid practically raised in the Estate, and you have no hobbies of going out to town except when itâs snowing and you itch to watch the snow falling in the city atmosphere.
âI know, I know.â You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you playfully once again as she finally settles up from her seat beside you. You didnât know that she knows, you just assumed sheâs trying to matchmake you again with the Stone Hashira.
âI do give love a chance, you know?â
âHmm? Like how?â Mitsuri playfully slurred, grabbing your silver white hairâwhite, as sparkly as the snow, into her palms before braiding it for fun.
âI know that the person Iâm attracted to will never look at me, he will never like me or even give love a chance. That person is someone very strong, and also very well-guarded on the heart and love factor. He had loved before, but that woman passed away all too fast. I donât think that person will ever love again. What he had for her was so strong, or so I was told.â You tried to explain slowly, but talking this out loud just made your eyes heavy with tears.
âAlso,â you tried to continue, Mitsuri humming a song so softly that it calmed your mind, âhe is an amazing person, he deserves someone as amazing as he is. He is strong, resilient⌠he is someone I admire but only from afar. I donât think I will ever be close to him, or can form a conversation long.â
âHmm, have you ever tried?â Matsuri asks, almost finishing her braids on your icy hair.
âNo, but I already know the result. It will be fruitless.â You slouched, placing your chin on your palms before exhaling loudly.
âThis is why I told you to give love a chance, bubbles.â Matsuri replied, her tone is so soothing that it makes you think twice to drop a name of this guy youâre interested in.
âI am an average girl, after all. I am not pretty with raven black hair. I donât have a beautiful breathing technique like all the girls hereâIâm not trying to compare or wish to be seen differently, or that I just want attention from saying thisâŚâ
âI understand. I know what you mean, bubbles.â
ââŚI donât think I deserve to be loved, or that at least from the person I want to be close with. Even though weâre in the same world, there is still so much space between us. Like the ocean with the moon. Iâm average at best, and the guy that Iâm interested in deserves someone better than me, stronger, prettier⌠someone right. He never looked at me the way I look at him, and there is always this coldness, awkwardness? I donât know. I think he even knew that Iâm not worth spending his time on, who am I anyway?â
Mitsuri looks at you and sees your little blush sparkling on your pale cheeks. She immediately understands, but what breaks her heart is that the sparks came from the tears rolling down your eyes.
Who else can pull this kind of reaction from you in the Corps?
No one but Shinazugawa.
It is a wild guess, though. Mitsuri is your best friend, and she keeps in touch with everyone youâve interacted informally with, which is almost everyone except Shinazugawa.
There is always something going on with you and him, and there is always some tension between Shinazugawa and himself whenever you try to sit near him during meetings.
And there is always that look of peace and calm whenever you arrive at the meetingsâunharmed.
But there is always anger and fury in his eyes, anxiety popping from his neck from when you arrived at the meetings with scratches and bandages.
And there is you, who always look at Shinazugawa whenever heâs not looking. Who always adds ten more minutes to your time with him whenever youâre sparring, and Shinazugawa lets it happen.
Who always leaves him water after a hot training day, and he finishes that water quickly whenever you leave his estate.
And now it all clicks to Mitsuri like a last missing puzzle.
Her eyes beamed excitedly.
Before anyone could break the little tension, a crow arrives for Mitsuri, reminding her of a meeting tonight in the city.
âWhere are you going?â Your head tilted aside. Where is she running off so quickly? Wiping your tears off, the pink-green-haired girl pumped up her gears, ready to take off.
âI just remember I have a meeting, a dinner meeting with Iguro-san! Oh, I apologize, bubbles. I need to leave. Weâve been dying to try this new place in town for months now! I will get back to you tomorrow, I promise!!!â She screamed talk as she ran out of the estate. You can hear all her words until she skittles out of your sight. She is loud and strong, her lungs are top-notch.
With a nodding smile, you also take your small feet back to your own estate.
The walk was not long. The entire land was bought out by Master Ubuyashikiâhectares of hectares of hectares of land all in this area are for the Demon Slayer members. There are mansions of the Hashira sprawled everywhere circling the land, so it is a safe place to walk inâadding the Wisteria plantation that goes on all around the estate.
You skip with your little walks, sadly humming the song of the snail. The night is bright, stars are dancing in awe with your little hums.
Nothing is certain like this peaceful night without the demon hunts, killings, and people dyingâthere are out there, but for one night, you want to be selfish and just enjoy the time you have for yourself.
But your breath hitched when you saw him.
âShinazugawa-sama. Have a good night.â You bowed, heâs your senior after all. Bet heâs walking down to his estate from sparring with someone up in the peak.
But oh Buddha, does he look so good. His uniform is open as usual, bare chest with that scar mark proudly scarred on his tan skin. He has a bit of disheveled hair, little stubbles on his jaw and chin⌠fuck.
His biceps are tight and stretching out the cutting of his haori, the veins of his hands running down to his palms; rugged, jagged, heavy.Â
You gulped.
He doesnât reply, as usual. He casually nods without even battling an eye for you.
Typical. But your heart feels heavy, so itâs better to quickly remove oneself from the situation.
As you take another step, this time without the skipping and the humming, you can feel the air breeze quite warm in this cold night.
âWait.â He commanded.
Your heels halt, turning around to see his tall figure already shading the moon and the stars from your vision.
âYouâre cold?â He tried to make a conversation out of the sudden?
âNo, I am not cold, Shinazugawa-sama. Why?â You ask him back, clueless.
âItâs just- erh, I can feel that you are cold.â He shrugged, awkwardly.
âHuh?â You question him again before he exhaled annoyedly as he hastily grabbed both of your palmsâhis eyes staring at you with âI told you soâ looks.
Oh. He is so warm.Â
âHmm, itâs normal temp for me though.â You giggled, just trying to take all of this moment in your head since it is so out of character for him to do any of this.Â
This marks the first time the Sanemi Shinazugawa touched you outside of sparring and exercise. You are blasting with joy and confusion.
âIs it?â Sanemi trails off, it feels like he is captured by the delicateness of your palms.Â
His words are lured out of his mouth like sailors being lured by sirens, he keeps holding your small hands in his big, heavily trained ones. He can feel your skin as cold as ice, but it quickly melts with his warm ones.
âI am cold by default, Shinazugawa-sama. I am Ice Breathing user.â You told him matter-of-factly.
Sanemi doesnât budge, but this time he looks down at you so intensely that you realized his eyes are hovering over you, and if youâre brave enough to look up it will be an awkward staring contest with his mauve eyes.
Then you remember Mitsuriâs chirping advice to always be open for opportunities.
So, you looked up.
âIâm just trying to make small talk.â He stares at you intently. Indicating you that he knew something, something he shouldnât have known.
âWhat do you- oh!â And it hits you, he was there just now when you talked with Mitsuri about that one person you like.
And now there is nothing but silence, with hoots of owls circulating the space. Sanemi doesnât take his eyes off you nor his hands away from the grip, he casually entangled his fingers in between yours, locking it tightly.
Now you really realize how small you are compared to him, like everything.
âYouâre such a snowflake.â He murmurs, with confusion laced in your face as a result.
âWhat?â Your head tilted aside again, he almost kills himself when you did thatâtoo adorable for him, he hated it when you tend to do that during meetings because it takes off his attention span of how important strategies are but nothing more important than seeing your quirks live in front of him
âYou are not easy to catch, even if someone did it will melt quickly in their hands.â He whispers but his eyes are still focused on your glowing orbsâyour eyes are pitch black, contrasting to everything in your skin.
Your hair, brows, and everything else are as white as silvery snow. Your nail beds are pale, your cheeks are white and rosy red. Your skin is pale white as a corpse and you are cold all the time, but your eyes are a stark color of your rest.
You look away, not knowing what is happening and where this is going. Your eyes are trained forward, looking at nothing but his bare, scarred chest.
âLook at me,â his thumb flickers on your chin, âlook at me.â He repeats, his thumb caressing your chin.
With heavy thoughts, you tilt your head again to look at his eyes.Â
There is a lot of anger, a lot of anxiety, and storms, but once you soften your eyes, his follows.
âLike a snowflake, youâre passing by ever so quickly. It is so hard to really look at you and admire you, as you think you are the same as other snowfalls. But each snowflake is different, they have unique carvings. Am I right?â Sanemiâs voice is calm. Eerie because the man was never this stable, he always raised his voice everywhere with everyone.
You nod.
âAnswer me.â He demands, his thumb still caressing your shaking chin.
âYes. Each snowflake is unique of its own.â Your voice tried so hard to escape, but with shaky breath it sounds like youâre whining.
âAnd to each their own.â Sanemi adds, his thumb still maintaining a calm motion on your chin, his other hand still holding your cold one.
âTo each their own.â You repeat, still trying to digest what he meant by everything.
âYou are deserving of love, you are unique. There is nothing average about you. From the outside, everyone is the same indeed, but when you look at them very closely, they all have different carvings with them, and that made you unique. You are a snowflake, after all.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â Your voice is small, timid, and scared. What if this is a prank? Is this what you think it is? You tried to look for something inside Sanemiâs eyesâmischief, lies, or jokes⌠but the man was never that part; heâs always serious, naturally rigid, and angry. Jokes and smiles are not his life.
âYou are my snowflake.â Sanemi affirms, taking both of your hands now and holding it tight to make sure you get the gist.
A man that he is, he never once takes his eyes off of you, and that means he meant it.
âFrom the moment I laid my eyes on you⌠I have fallen for you. But I know in this world weâre living in, there is no space for love. But by day, my feelings just grow and grow.â
âBut werenât you in a relationship before this?â You awkwardly tried to take yourself out of this too-good-to-be-true situation. Maybe you passed out somewhere, and this is all just a dream.
âI was never with her. She was just my friend; I told her everything about you even before you became a Hashira. And when she passed, it was hard for me, but it was harder for me to approach you because no one else believed I am worthy of your time. I mean, look at you.â
âIâm nothing much; Iâm just a girl.â
âYou are the girl, snowflake.â
Feeling like you have turned into a mush, which is never, Sanemi quickly grabs your waist to steady yourself.
âIs this all too much for you right now?â He worries; now his voice turns a bit stern like heâs trying to compose himself; he thinks he has said too much in too little time.
âNo, no, please. Itâs just that this is all soâŚâ you trailed off, but seeing his worries started to cloud Sanemiâs eyes, his expression started to spiral into embarrassment; you quickly grabbed his face before muttering âfuck.â
You crashed your lips onto his, pressing it flat just to make sure that heâs where he has to be.
Words are not your forte, and it is also not Sanemiâs biggest tool and favorite thing to do. So the moment you tried to pull away from him, he quickly wraps his huge arms around your fickle figure, pulling your petite, small body into his caged hugâhis lips still capturing yours, hungry and wanting for your attention.
Rough, but sweet.
âFor someone who looks scary, you surely taste sweet, like Ohagi.â You mutter against his opened mouth, his steam of hot breath trickling your whole face as he grunted with annoyance, picking you up effortlessly in his care.
âAnd your lips are not cold as snowflakes as I imagined it to be. Youâre going to be the death of me.â Sanemi groans as he took a while to look at your flushed face, your cheeks rosy red and lips lushed pink from his kisses. His eyes are shaded by your white strands and lashesâhe was pissed for not being able to be with you before, but now he is beyond pissed off for the reason he needs to share your beauty with everyone else too now that he assumes youâre his.
this is a request from anon but I accidentally deleted it while trying to edit (im new to Tumblr) so im reuploading it for anon's bday! happy birthday anon (huhuhu ăăăăŞăă (ĂłďšĂ˛ď˝Ą)
"The Demon Slayer Corp faces a threat: the dwindling population of their kind. The Ubuyashiki family, desperate to preserve the demon-slaying lineage, initiates a controversial program. As part of this mandate, you're assigned to bear the child of one of the most powerful and yet unstable Wind Hashira: Sanemi Shinazugawa.
As a skilled but also headstrong woman belonging to an infamous medic clan in the village, there was definitely resistance in the beginning, but it all comes down to the both of you to either make it work or be the disappointment of everyone."
wc: 27,306 and counting
footnote: hi sorry for being late again, I went through a very traumatic thing and still trying to get back up again.
Itâs always the same routine in the Wind Estate, every morning the same nightmare, and every night the same lousy thoughts running in your head like a headless chicken. Your arm felt much better, after weeks of mending it by yourself.
Ever since that day, Sanemi has once again withdrawn himself from your wakeâyou couldnât find him anywhere, again. Just when the relationship was starting to get better, you feel like youâd ruined it.
Sanemi is a very strange person, he has a strong presence indeed but whatever going on inside his head is always nothing but a mystery to solve. You donât like complications, and yet heâs one.
The situationship you had was going really good, until the injury that happened with your arm. It seems like something is ticking back inside Sanemiâs head, making him regret ever being nice to you, trying to open up and accept the arrangement.
You are getting tired with the push and pull in this relationshipânot that Sanemi did something wrong to you anyway, all the things that you and he did was strictly consensual and both parties agreed to do so, itâs just the notion of not having his real heart and mind for yourself and you only is⌠diabolical.
Wait, what? Am I falling in love with him?
âHello?â A male voice called out from outside the room, your bedroom is still dimly lit, you havenât been wanting to go out of your room much lately for some reason.
You didnât jump nor care, itâs not the voice of the person you wanted to hear anyway.
It has been like this, for you. You have been achin to hear his voice, his mums, anything from himâyou have been desperately looking for him and yet you never find the reason why you want to. Youâre just very attracted to him, you want to be near him, always.Â
And you didnât know since when this feelings started, was it before he ignores you? Or after? Are you just wanting his attention because youâre lonely? Surely one canât expect to be loved by someone who treats you veryâŚabruptlyâŚ
âExcuse me, hello?â The strange man called again from outside, you got up slowly following the voice.
âYes? How can I help you?â Answering without opening the door, you lean against the paper window.
âIâm just here to tell you that Master Shinazugawa is coming back home tonight. His raven arrived earlier, he has returned safely from his 1 month mission. Anything I can assist you to prepare for his return Mrs. Shinazugawa?â
You paused, the excitement you have been waiting for is backâyou canât wait to see his tall figure crowding over you, his sleazy eyes, his sharp tongue and gruff voice. You canât wait to bicker with him again. The last time he left it was bitter on both sides, hoping the one month space would give him better mind.
âNo need, thank you so much for telling me!â Your excitement is bleeding out from your mouth at this point, your eyes pop with immense sparks. He is back, he will be back!!
You gather yourself softly, sitting in the salt water milk bath you arranged with the helpers, scrubbing your skin with the stone you received from the Stone Hashira, he said itâs good to keep the skin glowing and cleanâyou never tried one before, why should you? But now you have a reason, something inside you is growing for your husband.
Sheepishly dressing yourself carefully, with the new kimono he bought you from his previous mission. The man never utter a word, but when he gave you the present he said it was just the courtesy as your husband. Very cute of him, never seen that side of him again afterward.
Letting your beautiful hair flow, the smile plastered on your pale face is beaming with positivity, maybe today is the day everything changed. This is not the first time Sanemi has left you for a long time, but this is the first time that he tried to be more civil with you.
âWelcome back, husband.â You smiled sheepishly, manicured nails shine through the night candlesâyour fingers intertwined with one another perfectly, gripping on the silk of your night kimono.
As if the air has been caught in Sanemiâs throat, he cleared his voice before returning with a simple âIâm home.â
Looking away with slanted eyes, he tried to take another look from the corner of his gaze. You knew, and it is working.
A month ago you begged on your knees for him to mend your injured arm, after that he left immediately for another mission being ambushed physically himselfâyou knew he just wanted space to run away from you, seconded from saving people from demons.
A month from that, Sanemi is standing tall with no apparent injuries but slightly messy hair and scent of wood.
âHow was your trip?â You took off all his belongings, this time he lets you do it. Giddy, your heart skipped a beat when you realized heâs letting you take off his Haori too when his lazy eyes stare down at you.
With the biggest strength you could carry, your eyes darted up to catch his gaze.
âAre you okay?â Your voice a mumble, his eyes are just so heavy tonightâlike heâs carrying a lot of baggages he refused to unburden. Sanemi shakes his head, a slight groan escaped his red lips.
Sanemi leans down, crouching a bit of his tall figure just so he can fit with yours.
âI want you.â His voice hot as steam, like someone pouring hot water on your skin, you jolt.
âMe?â Spiraling, your eyes begin to shake in questions.
âYes. You. My wife.â He repeated and groaned when you recoiled from his words, he doesnât deter as his gruff fingers cupped your chin gently, rushed, but soft.
âKiss me,â he begs in hasteâhe has never been like this, as if itâs not him at all. What has gotten into Sanemi?
âShinazugawa-san I thi-â
âCall my name,â his lips hung near yours, mouth slightly agape. âCall my name, please.â He continued, voice shaking with devotion that youâd never experience and thought will never experience from him.
âSanemi.â You called out his name, without further actions he smashed his lips onto yours, yearning, wanting, robbing you for himself only.
He carries you effortlessly, sliding his huge palms down to your thighs as he let your legs wrap itself around his built, canât do it perfectly but you tried.
Sanemi lets you cling to him, be too close to him. His hardened shaft is brushing against your damp core, he lets it linger there, pressing, rubbing you against himself.
Your mouth slurred moans and cries, soft mewls overwhelming his ears when his tongue finally laps inside your thirsty one, opening your lips slightly bigger so he can shove everything inside your needy mouth.
Grinding against his dick, your mouth couldnât stop quavering against his, your tongue trying to prob onto his, only to get it lapped on again and again.Â
Sanemi doesnât kiss, he eats.
Your headâs slammed against the thin wall of Wind Estate, the loud bang can be heard throughout the hallway, as if anyone cares.
âGod,â Sanemi curses when he pulls his mouth away from yours, only to be greeted by your lushed abused lips trailed with mixed saliva, he quickly unbuckles his pants.
âDo you want this?â Was his question, as if he ever asked anyâas if you ever wanted to say no to him, itâs always a yes, even without wording it out for him. You always want him, inside or on you.
Nodding desperately, you took off the top of your kimono letting him lavish on the sight of your beautiful tits. He smirked but eyes hooded to look like he has it all together, so he kisses your neck and bites the milky skin before entering you.
When you feel his tip rubbing against your hole, a moan escaped your mouth only to be greeted by a quick exhale from him, it was like a ghost trickling your wake like begging gods to hear.
âPlease, Sanemi, now,â you choked up on your own words when he slowly enters youâhe never done this, why is he doing this?
When you blink open your eyes, lashes fluttering up, you realize heâs watching your reaction.
âI want to see you,â he pauses, choking in his own words ââŚtaking me,â he groans softly, leaning in your ear leafânipping on the soft skin, âslowly. Just like that.â He taunts, half of his shaft already expanding inside your pussy.
âYouâre always like this,â he taunts again, this time breathless as he can feel himself slowly sinking inside your wet hole, you tried to close your eyes but he shook his head.
âSuch a needy little brat.â He licks your cheeks, tasting you as if kissing isnât enough. And when he finally hits your tilt, you groan so hard that he had to smash inside you once more in a quick motion.
The moans coming out of Sanemi is like something you have been wanting to hear, letting his dick ripping you apart deliciously, letting him taking over you as if youâre a helpless preyâwhen in fact this is what you actually want.
âDonât stop please,â beg you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bounces inside you, thrusting his dick deep lacing it with your wetness.
The sound of skin slapping and squelching is prominent, knowing that you are just so ready for him every time.
âJust like a toy, mindless little toy,â he whispers, lips just brushing against your open mouth.
âYaâ surely enjoy being treated like this,â he snaps, his hips rolling inside you like he owns youâin which maybe he does, âlook at yaââ the tip of his dick brushes against your clit, earning him the loudest moan of the night in a gist.
âIâm-â you quiver when his hard shaft keeps brushing the same spot inside you, creating gush of your wetness every time the friction is earned. He feels it, he feels everythingâfrom the way your hole grips his dick, from the wetness coating his pulsating shaft, the cries drooling out from your mouth are like gospel of sins.
âI know, I know.â Sanemi quips, thrusting deeper, feeling you more intensely, fingers dug deep under your smooth thighs. The man is done.
You felt the enormous euphoria ripping through your halls, up to your abdomen, hotness running and seating comfortably on your chest. Bubbles of excitement and pounding of your heart trickled up to your throat, lush mouth of yours fell open with streams of sniffles and scream. You came so hard, the hardest youâve ever been.
Sanemi hugs both your small thighs with one arm while the other slammed the thin walls beside your head, his cum was ripping through his body like snakeâs venom. He can feel every inch of his veins burning with pleasure, the kind he canât scratch off but let it be haunting his cells and insides. The pleasure you gave him was beyond his own beliefs, how can you feel so good and made him feel so good.
Was it the hate? The longing? The situationship?
The breaths coming from his mouth is steamy, you can see puffs from his mouth.Â
Your body went limp in a second, Sanemi softly put you on the soft wooden floor, letting you rest your head on the wall when he tried to fix his pants.
His hair is damp and sticking all over his forehead, his eyes are awake and not in a haze anymore, heâs back to his old hating selfâyou thought.
âAre you tired?â Sanemi Shinazugawa tried to make a conversation. Wow.
âHmm,â you hummed slouching lazily, as rustled sound making its way to your ears, Sanemi buckling his belt bag to its place, when something touched your ankle.
You peeked through lazy eyes to see a white, coffee colored paper balancing on your boney feet.
âSanemi you dropped something.â Calling to him, you grab the paper which turns out to be a drawing in a piece of old crumpled paper.
Before you could say anything more, Sanemi quickly grabbed the drawing and put it back to his shirt, on the left side near his chest.
âWaitâŚâ your energy came surging back, this time you wish it hadnât.
A drawing of Kanae Kocho dropped from his pocket and he quickly grabbed it as if you werenât supposed to see.
