Body swap shinomitsu

Yes I’m reposting I messed up the format

And mitsuri scaring ts out of Kanao in half a minute

Alr Sanemi community I have a dilemma:

I am quickly losing my mind with the possibility of turning my upcoming vamp Sanemi oneshot into a full-fledged fic. Ya’ll know I take forever to write, but would you want a oneshot or are willing to wait for a mult-chapter fic?

How greedy are you all? I am already brainstorming plot ideas…

Just watched infinity castle pt1 with my dad!!

Spoilers under cut

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT WAS PHENOMENAL

I already knew she was gonna die but actually seeing Shinobu fighting Douma was INSANE

The animation style of it was absolutely beautiful, I am a person who has to fight the urge to talk in movies usually but I didn’t even need to bc I was so stunned I didn’t even WANT to speak

Akaza’s fighting was probably my favorite thing bc it reminded me of earth bending from atla, very focused on staying planted on the ground and harsh quick movements based on full contact with the enemy (sorry if that doesn’t make sense)

My dad loved Shinobu because of her sacrifice (he also guessed the whole poisoning herself thing by himself)

He loved giyu and Tanjiro’s fight scene with Akaza

He doesn’t understand how Zenitzu survived that one really powerful move

Least favorite character is douma because of his fake niceness 

He liked the new form in thunder breathing

He STILL hated insect breathing (I thought it was badass)

If yall want to ask my dad questions go ahead in comments or my ask box

I had to bought it

He look so cutie I wanna bite him😭😫✨️❤️🥹

Mutuals: @chihir-chqn @luvstringa @tinysanemi @massivelystupidlevisimp @rengokusflame

I went to see the infinity castle movie again..

Safe to say, I love douma more each time I watch it >_<

tanjiro: Himejima-san, do you believe that demons can be saved?

gyomei: I believe there’s a time for everything. A time to live, a time to die… a time to burn in the sun.

tamayo: Kibutsuji, your death will be terrible.

muzan: Is this a threat or a prophecy?

tamayo: This is a spoiler.

🌊 Giyu Tomioka Pride Icons Pt.6 🌊

It/They Lesbian 🌊 Bisexualgender 🌊 It/They Bi

Acegender 🌊 She/It Bi 🌊 Aroacegender

She/It Lesbian 🌊 Arogender 🌊 She/It Gay

🌊 Free to use with credit 🌊

𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓮'𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1~

Hi everyone! This is the first chapter of this fic, and I hope you’re going to like it! Might put some other OC here, but just extra. OwO

But yes, this will be cross-posted on my AO3.So, see you there if ever too!

Permanent taglist: @penglingwing @yoursexyyorkshirepudding @yinyinlovesjw @pandoraspeace @num1tojidihrider @chaoticdeputybailifffreak @yursadreamer @keisukebajimipatron @dollandhs @kaeunsweetenedlemonade @culocacas-blog @thorfinnsbaee @giyuuzas @obanaisprettywife @lelewright1234 @3lectraheart @scarsdrop @sapphireserpens @rottendolliezz @tenshinokokyu @imniniiz

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 | 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓘𝓷𝓭𝓮𝔁

𝑬𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒌𝒖

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 1: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚔𝚞 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 (𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚) 𝐗 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 (𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐆𝐢𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚)

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

Content Warnings: SFW mostly but may contain character deaths and suggestive scenes

The city of Tokyo did not sleep, but in the grey, silent hours of the morning, it breathed with a heavy, mechanical sigh. Shinjuku Station was already beginning to pulse with its daily fever.

Thousands of random souls moved in a synchronised dance of apathy, their eyes fixed on glowing screens or the polished tips of their shoes, navigating the subterranean labyrinth with the practised ease of ghosts.

However, with the facade of everything that was normal, it was clear how everything now differed from before. The days right now feel so different from what they used to be. And for some, the present is the peace that they had dreamed of yet never experienced.

Sadly.

Giichi Tomioka had become one of those grey souls. Yes, at eighteen, he had become a master of the quiet life, which is so far from what he grew up in, as he had traded his vibrant social interactions for solitude and introspection.

Giichi used to be a cheerful and generous kid who always loved being with his family and two best friends. Yes, he used to be one of those smart and happy children whom you’ll see playing with other kids—always laughing, always smiling.

Yet now, he became a university student who only attended his lectures, ate his meals in solitude, and returned to a dorm that felt less like a home and more like a waiting room.

Something in him had changed as he turned eighteen. It was as if there was a persistent sense of displacement that trailed him like a shadow, and he couldn’t fathom why suddenly he felt like this.

Maybe it was because he is not usually with his best friends because of the university? Or maybe it was because he needed to suddenly move out to go to the outside world and face it alone?

But it still felt like his questions were unanswered even if he had come up with tonnes of answers. For some reason, he felt like something in him just turned on. It was as if he were suddenly awakened.

Giichi often caught himself staring at his own hands, surprised by their smoothness, or looking at his reflection in a shop window and finding the modern cut of his clothes entirely wrong.

He suddenly started feeling lost from the world he grew up in, and he actually cannot fathom why.

Everything used to be normal, yet now, it was as if he were looking at himself on the other side of the glass. Suddenly he had a realisation that he had been moving through the city now as if haunted by the echo of a melody that had long since faded into the previous century.

He was constantly looking for something, though he could never have put a name to it. And that brought him a sense of loss and pain, which at first felt unbearable. Until it all felt numb again… and yet,

Giichi felt incomplete.

On this specific Tuesday, the air in the station was particularly stifling. He had been here a hundred times—with his parents or friends or, usually, with just himself, like now.

The humidity of a looming spring storm hung thick in the tunnels, mixing with the metallic scent of the tracks and the sharp tang of espresso from the kiosks. Giichi adjusted the strap of his bag, his fingers tracing the canvas as he merged into the tide of commuters heading toward the Yamanote Line.

Giichi felt untethered today. The noise of the station, the rhythmic clicking of heels, the muffled announcements, and the rushing wind of the arriving trains felt distant. It seems like he was submerged in deep water.

The music blared in his ears, deafening the echo, or whatever that thing is, causing him to feel empty. But it seems to fail once again—as usual. He glanced at the flickering screens displaying train schedules, but the words blurred together, lost in his thoughts.

Each pulse of the crowd seemed to resonate with his own disquiet, and he found himself yearning for something beyond the routine, something that would anchor him amid the chaos.

Little did he know, this specific Tuesday would also serve as the ignition to start on resurfacing real answers and feelings that had been dormant within him.

A change… An inevitable change awaits.

Giichi did not see the man approaching from the opposite direction, as he was immersed deep in his thoughts.

Sanehiro Shinazugawa did not move with the tide; he broke it. At twenty-eight, he was a police officer whose presence was a jagged tear in the fabric of the morning rush at Shinjuku. He walked with a restless, aggressive energy that made people instinctively veer out of his path, his uniform jacket open and his posture radiating a volatile authority.

He was a man who looked as if he had never known a day of peace. His face was a map of silver scars that suggested a history far more violent than even the toughest precinct required, and his hair, the colour of pale ash, stood in stark defiance of the groomed salarymen surrounding him at the station.

Sanehiro was annoyed. He was already late for his shift, his breakfast had been burnt, his coffee had spilt on his carpet this morning, and the sheer volume of people in the station made his skin crawl with an inexplicable, itchy irritability.

Actually, Sanehiro was always mad. It was as if he didn’t know where these all stemmed from or if he was really mad. It’s just that he felt like a weapon with no war left to fight, a man out of time and out of patience.

He was looking at his watch, cursing under his breath, when the world suddenly lurched.

The collision was absolute. It was not a mere stumble; it was a physical upheaval that felt as though two tectonic plates had finally found their fault line.

It was definitely moving—more than how it should have been.

Giichi’s breath was knocked clean out of his lungs with the astonishment from the force. It was as if he were suddenly electrified. The air vanished, replaced by a sudden, jarring heat that blanketed him. He felt himself reeling, the fluorescent lights above spinning into dizzying streaks of white. He braced for the impact of the floor, but it never came.

Instead, two hands seized him.

They were large, calloused, and possessed a strength that felt terrifyingly familiar. They clamped onto Giichi’s upper arms with a proprietary firmness, pinning him upright against the surge of the crowd.

“Watch where you’re going, you damn brat,” a voice rasped.

It was a jagged, gravelly sound that seemed to vibrate directly into Giichi’s marrow, tearing through the thick wall he had built around him for the last few months.

The voice was familiar—strangely familiar. The sensation of longing and pain suddenly came up to his senses, bringing him sudden nausea and pain in the chest. For quite a while, he listened more as the voice talked… scolding him, and suddenly, it all brought memories which he knows hadn’t happened to him.

This is… odd. Giichi thought as he navigated through the broken fragments of memories inside his head. Maybe I am just… tripping.

Giichi forced his eyes open, his vision swimming with tears of pure shock. He found himself inches away from a face that looked like a storm made flesh. But it wasn’t the scars or the sharp, angry line of the man’s mouth that stopped Giichi’s heart.

It was the eyes.

The sterile, metallic scent of Shinjuku evaporated. For one impossible heartbeat, Giichi smelt woodsmoke, dried herbs, and the sharp, biting chill of a mountain wind. A hundred years of silence collapsed into a single second.

For a few seconds, Giichi didn’t see a stranger. He saw the soul behind the gaze, a jagged, beautiful fury that felt so familiar as if it had once been his entire world. He’s not entirely sure of why he’s feeling this, but all the sensations he didn’t know he had hit him all at once, a tidal wave of grief and recognition so potent he felt his ribs might actually crack under the pressure.

What is this… Who is this person?

His knees buckled. The unknown recognition was so violent it was almost lethal.

“Hey. Stay on your feet,” Sanehiro growled. He felt a sudden, irrational spike of adrenaline that tasted like copper in the back of his throat. He should have been livid. He should have shoved the kid aside and kept walking, but his fingers tightened on the boy’s coat with a desperate, instinctive force.

He looked down at the pale, trembling university student in his grip and felt a prehistoric urge to drag him out of the crowd, to shield him, to bark at anyone who dared to look their way.

Even Sanehiro was lost as to why he was suddenly feeling all these urges for a random university student who accidentally bumped into him. This is silly. The kid looked at him as if he were seeing a ghost, his dark blue eyes brimming with a depth of sorrow that Sanehiro didn’t understand but felt intimately in his own bones.

What the fuck is this? Why is he familiar? He thought as he tried his best to compose himself in front of this unknown student.

“Breathe, kid,” Sanehiro muttered, his voice losing its jagged edge as he stepped closer, his body creating a barrier between the boy and the rushing world.

“You’re white as a sheet. What the hell is happening with you? Just look at me and breathe.”

“You…”

“Huh? What?”

“You…”

Sanehiro raised one eyebrow as he looked at the student in front of him. He cannot fathom why he is looking at him so intensely while saying that. Do we know each other? He asked himself, but even if he tried to dig into his memories, he could not figure out where he first saw this brat.

“What do you want, brat? Do I know you? What—”

“You are so noisy.”

“The fuck?”

Sanehiro suddenly shoved him away, astounded by what he had told him. Never in his life had he encountered someone so brave to tell him those words. And yet, even if his blood spiked because of his sudden annoyance towards this kid, heat suddenly enveloped him as well.

The student’s voice felt like an awakening. His heart suddenly raced, a reaction he never had with someone before. The sudden feelings of loss, longing and regret came up to him, bringing a cold shiver down his spine as he stopped on his tracks with wide eyes.

“What did you just tell me, kid?”

“You are… noisy… officer”, Giichi murmured once again as he tried his best to stand straight and fix his now crumpled uniform. He doesn’t know why he said this… he can’t figure out why he felt the need to tell this specific officer that he is noisy.

Sanehiro was stunned to the core; even the words he told him felt so familiar. Even this specific annoyance that he is feeling right now seems to have been inside him already—waiting for the right time to explode.

He is just a kid, Sanehiro… Calm down… He told himself as he heaved a sigh and fixed his own sleeves while looking at the university student who was now busy adjusting the straps of his bag.

“What’s your name?”

“Why?”

“I’m officer Sanehiro Shinazugawa, and you?”

“Why should I introduce myself to a police officer?”

This fucking brat… Sanehiro rolled his eyes, groaning in irritation with how tactless this kid sounds. A few moments ago, he looked at him as if he were a ghost from centuries ago, yet now, here he is talking back like that without even looking at him.

Sanehiro felt offended, and he doesn’t know why he’s being too petty right now in front of a kid. He just felt the sudden push to show dominance and make this nonchalant-looking guy look at him and apologise.

But apologise for what? Sanehiro asked himself before blurting out an answer that made Giichi finally look up at him again with those ocean eyes that brought fragments of thoughts inside the police officer’s head.

He knows he should be going. He’s already late. But no, Sanehiro placed one hand on his hips and tilted his head to the side, as if mocking the poor kid.

“You’re not scared of me, brat?”

“Why would I? Is bumping accidentally with a police officer making me a criminal?”

“Why you—”

“Shinazugawa! Is that you? Come on! We are already late!”

Before Sanehiro could finish his words, a colleague—who is also getting late from their shift—found him in the middle of the crowd, arguing with a poor university student. That made him groan once again and lower himself to look into Giichi’s eyes.

“Your tactless mouth is pissing me off, but be thankful my colleague is here, brat. Just… go to the university or wherever the hell you’re heading to. And remove those goddamn headphones. It makes you clumsy.”

Sanehiro was about to step away when he felt the urge to give the student another word. “And… don't… don’t call me noisy if ever I find you again. I might lose my temper and not let you go—I mean, put you into your place, brat.”

With a few stomps and groans, Sanehiro finally left Giichi, whose eyes were wide again in confusion. A mix of daze and something deeper—which he still cannot reach—embraced him like a longing mother. Triggered by the grumpy police officer’s choice of words and what the other officer called him, Giichi felt his heart race faster.

“Shinazugawa? Shi…na…zugawa? Where did I hear that? Sounds so familiar… And… let me go? What does he mean by that?”

Giichi turned to look again at the direction where the officer had gone, only to see him already gone like the wind. His hand was trembling as he reached up to adjust his headphones. The plastic felt cold and alien against his skin. After a few moments, the station’s announcements blared back into his consciousness, but they sounded like they were coming from miles away.

Shinazugawa.

The name sat on Giichi’s tongue like a secret he had been keeping from himself. It tasted of salt and iron. He felt an inexplicable, phantom weight on his shoulders, as if he were meant to be wearing something heavier than a university student’s coat.

His heart didn’t just race; it hammered with a frantic, rhythmic grief that demanded he run after the man and demand a name he didn’t even know he was looking for.

“Weirdo,” he whispered again, but the word lacked conviction. It felt like a lie told to keep his world from tilting further off its axis. So then and there, he took a deep breath and took the other direction to head to the platform that will lead him to the university.

On the other side of the turnstiles, Sanehiro was moving with a ferocity that made his colleague, Hojo, struggle to keep up. Each step Sanehiro took felt like he was trying to stomp out a fire.

“What was that about, Shinazugawa? You looked like you were about to either arrest that kid or adopt him,” Hojo panted, trying to lighten the mood.

Sanehiro didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His palms were sweating, and the skin where he had grabbed the boy’s arms felt like it was buzzing with electricity.

I might lose my temper and not let you go.

Why had he said that? The words had jumped out of his throat, unbidden and ancient. He had felt a sudden, terrifying conviction that if he let go of those thin shoulders, the boy would simply dissolve into the Shinjuku smog, and Sanehiro would spend the rest of his life wandering through the crowd looking for a ghost.

And the way he called him… noisy. It was as if that were a secret code he had been looking for for years. And yet, even if he already heard it—if it was really a code—he still can’t decipher the deep meaning behind it.

His heart hurt… and he doesn’t know why.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette he wasn’t allowed to light inside, his fingers brushing against a small, jagged scar on his forearm. For a split second, the fluorescent lights of the corridor flickered, and Sanehiro didn’t see the white tiles of the station. He saw a flash of maroon and patterned fabric and a blurry image of the one who wore it under the moonlit sky.

What the fuck is this… Who is this person inside my head suddenly?

He stumbled, his breath hitching.

“You alright?” Hojo asked, reaching out.

“Fine,” Sanehiro snapped, his voice more a snarl than a word. He straightened his uniform, his eyes hardening back into their usual flinty glare. “Just a brat who didn’t know his place. Let’s go. We’re already late.”

He kept walking, but the restlessness in his blood wouldn’t settle.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice that sounded nothing like his own was screaming that he had just walked away from the only person who could tell him why he had been angry ever since.

Back on the platform, Giichi stepped onto the train as the doors hissed shut. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, looking at his own reflection. For the first time in his life, the stranger in the mirror looked back with eyes that were starting to remember how to cry.

Why do I feel like… crying? I was okay earlier… But… why is something hurting inside of me?

The melody he had been straining to hear for a while hadn’t started playing again, but the silence finally had a name, and he was just too naive right now to know what it was.

𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅…

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰!

Please support me on AO3 and here! Don’t be shy to comment, reblog, and heart!

Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ? Bᴜʏ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏғғᴇᴇ~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 | 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓘𝓷𝓭𝓮𝔁

Bonus shippy one!

「芯」: Unyielding Heart Spotlight!

PAGE artist Birdman Art dives into the fray with us!

🌊 @birdmanart
🌊 IG

The weekly dilemma: Post it or keep obsessively rereading and rewriting only to undo all the changes again…?

Bonus shippy one!

Kanae, like Kanao, would be an Alraune!

Aoi would be a Werecat!

Hinatsuru would be a Lamia!

Makio would be a Raptor Harpy!

Suma would be a Pan!

I hope you enjoy these!

The funny thing about Enmu is the fact that if he was a real person, he’d most likely end up being talked about on a true crime podcast and I’d absolutely despise him

and yet, here I am 🙃

Enmu encountering his Kimetsu Gakuen incarnation and being absolutely baffled

Demon Slayer: Infinity Castle part 1 spoilers

Isnt it so interesting how Douma looks at Shinobu as she stands up after he cut into her collarbone, lungs, and side and goes Are you… even human? when he’s the one who has struggled to ever feel any form of deep, personal connections with anything - humans or objects - since birth?

Douma lacks the one thing that makes someone human, his feelings. I dont mean romance or sexual desire, i mean genuine feelings. He cant be sad, or feel true happiness, due to how his brain developed both in the womb and as he was human.

He feels no connections to things, and yet Shinobu, who feels everything, was the one to be asked if she was really ‘human’ due to pushing through pain and continuing to fight despite the burning in her chest and the blood filling her lungs. Shinobu did something so few, if any, have ever done. Douma regards her as the fastest hashira he’s ever met, and he even regards her as getting faster after he slashes her. It “scares” him over how uncanny her ability to continue to fight is, when so many have fallen to his hand.

Douma never took her as a serious opponent due to her smaller stature and really thats what lead to his death. If he was more careful, or paid more attention, he wouldve waited to absorb her until after he killed Kanao (and Inosuke).

That said, Douma isnt stupid. Hes shown to have a good control over his BDA and good battle knowledge. Its just that he ended up against an opponent who thought 10 steps ahead simply to kill him. Is he childish? Absolutely, but he isnt an idiot. When he locks in, he damn near wins against all three of his opponents. However due to Shinobu wanting to kill him, to find him and be the one to end his life due to him killing Kanae, his intelligence did nothing for him since she knew that her end goal was to die to an uppermoon, to die to uppermoon two specifically if she had her way – which in the end, she DID have her way.

Higanbana is so pretty and Douma is so lucky

bro can the kny fandom genuinely lock in with muzan. “Muzan being weak only for reader!” and shit like that is starting to piss me OFFFF. HE WOULD GENUINELY NOT DO ALLAT WHERE DID THE TRUE MASOCHISTS GO. Im no genius but there is no way nobody has ever decided instead of insanely mischaracterizing muzan and taking away the main part of his character why don’t we just make the ULTIMATE masochist reader that genuinely nuts onto the wall to whatever muzan does, muzan lowk finds them mad annoying but they are a upper moon that is too useful to him to kill so he just has to accept it and just fucks the shit out of them when they piss him off really bad or whenever he feels like it?… HATE FUCK, EXTREME MASOCHISM PPL WHERE ARE YOU???? I swear you people get less freaked out by the day these can NOT be ts niche😭✌️ wait lowkey thats a fire idea im gonna take ts for myself nvm