#and saves all the simpletons lives making them better people

[addictivecontradiction]

Cold Comfort Farm, 1995

[cinnaleaf]

For the Racists Hiding in Anon: Log Off or Step the Fuck Up

Let’s have a chat!!! Because some of you seem to need a very CLEAR and LOUD wake up call about the way you conduct yourselves in fandoms.

Quite frankly, the racism running rampant in fandom spaces is disgusting and embarrassing. We shouldn’t have to keep circling back on this topic just because people insist on showing how truly uneducated and bigoted they are.

To the racists hiding behind anonymous accounts to send racist messages to others..I find you to be absolutely simpleton and pathetic. You’re not clever, funny, or even giving the read you think you are – so I’ll do you one better 😇 I think you’re a parroting bird that loves to hear yourselves chirp. You would never do this in public because you know the consequences it has. So why are y’all so suddenly bold online?? Your anonymity on the internet will not save you from being a pea brained buzzard hiding behind a screen. It only proves you lack the educational substance to inform yourselves of biases and at the very least correct it – it’s really the least you could do, seeing as black people live rent free in your mind.

Secondly, Trent is a black man. He’s not some token for you to project your racist fantasies onto. Regardless of his antics, this man has black ancestors, family members, and friends who are black. Thinking you can simultaneously froth and feen over him, read my fics, and send microaggressions and blatant racist hatred to other black women in this space is pure cognitive dissonance. Trent doesn’t want you. He never will. Even if you do feel that you fit his publicly conceived ‘preferences’. He’d take one look at your vitriol and be just as disgusted as we are. Sit with that and ponder.

I started writing fics because I wanted to create stories that are fun, reflect my experiences, and to connect with like minded people in the football space. My blog will ALWAYS be a safe space for black people, queer people, disabled people, women, and anyone else who understands what it means to be marginalized. If you cannot handle that, if my existence (and others) somehow offends you – this space is not for you. I don’t want you reading my fics. I don’t want you lurking on my blog. I don’t want you interacting with other black bloggers and people of color. And I definitely don’t want you bringing your racism into a fandom space that’s meant to be a fun refuge for people like me.

Your microaggressions don’t move me. Your overt racism doesn’t scare me. All it does is prove that your ignorance is a vast wasteland – you should honestly be embarrassed by that. And to be real, I refuse to make this space a comfortable place for you. If you want a space to spew your nonsense, find it elsewhere (where you’ll probably be banned) because it won’t be here. You’re not welcome here and I’ll brick the wall you try to crash into every time you attempt to make this an unsafe space for others. Maybe then you’ll understand what your hostility feels like when you dish it to others. 

And to anyone who’s been on the receiving end of this bullshit – your frustrations and exhaustions are 100% valid. This corner of the internet belongs to you just as much as anyone else, and you should feel free to make it safe for yourself in whatever you deem fitting. I don’t want anyone holding their breath before scrolling because of these people. Do not allow them to poison your safe space with utter nonsense, it’s YOURS.

I have only been active here for a few months after lurking for years, but in that short time I’ve connected with some really amazing people over these blood pressure inducing games, silly men, and just life in general. That’s what this space was meant for and I refuse to let anyone take that away from us. If you feel like this space has become more stress than it’s worth, I totally understand and would suggest taking a break if you need to, but your presence and perspectives will always be welcome to me and many other like minded individuals who aren’t smooth brained.

Anyway, I say all this to say I will not let someone else’s hatred exist here and I’m actively working on making sure these people are weeded out entirely. Make them uncomfortable, they deserve it.

If this bothers you racists in anyway, step the fuck up without anon being on so I can really give you the read you so desperately deserve.

x

[purpleruneleaf]

so i played with the horror and farm dolls, but decided i didn't like them as much after all. not putting this on ao3, but putting this out in the universe in case someone else might enjoy it. i dunno, i don't feel like i captured either of them very well. rottoncrops (farmer/horror)

3am coffee

He'd heard the stories of UFOs and aliens beaming up cows and people, so when the flashes of light and strange noises seemed to be coming from his barn, Farm's first thought at 3am was Aw shit, I've got me uh intergalactic problem...

With that in mind, Farm did what any sensible person would have done in the same situation.

The skeleton got out of bed, stepped into his slippers, put on his robe, and made his way downstairs. In his kitchen, he put on a pot of coffee and whipped up a quick batch of biscuits. While the dough rested, he washed his hands, stuffed and lit his pipe, grabbed his shotgun and flashlight, and headed towards the barn. 

By the time he got over there, of course, the light show was over, and everything seemed normal. To the point that Farm briefly wondered if he’d dreamt it in the first place.

Better safe than sorry, he thought with a sigh, huffing out a puff from his pipe. Shotgun draped over his elbow, he clicked on his flashlight and got the barn door open. His eyes followed the beam his flashlight made. Nothing seemed out of place.

But he could smell it.

Something faint, bitter, and rancid tickled his nostrils. It was a smell Farm was familiar enough with that he smiled a little.

Fear.

“Yuh can c’mon outtuh hidin’,” he said out loud. Something tensed in the air like a held breath. “I ain’t gonna hurt you none. I got fresh coffee made, and the oven’s warmin’ up fer biscuits. Why don’chyuh c’mon out, an’ we can talk over some fresh biscuits ‘n’ gravy?”

“What’s the catch?” a voice hissed from the shadows around him.

He swallowed hard. Every instinct in him now warned Farm not to make any sudden moves. The voice almost sounded like it was behind him. Farm forced a smile. “Ain’t no catch, I swear. Just a peace offerin’. Yuh come a long way, right? Yuh must be hungry.”

There was a quiet while the stranger considered Farm’s offer. “I… don’t have anything to give in exchange.” A knife flashed in the corner of his eye, the blade curved towards Farmer’s throat. “This is some sort of trick!  You’re going to try and kill me for food!”

“Fer… what?”

The knife edged closer to his throat. Farm lifted his chin. “Food, you simpleton! There’s not enough to go around, remember? You ‘re going to kill me and eat me!”

Farm chuckled nervously, holding up both hands. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on on yer planet, friend, but we got plenty of food here. I don’t gotta kill nobody to live, I promise. ‘Cept fer the occasional pig ‘r cow… or chicken. Or rabbit, but that’s a treat I save fer the holidays.”

The hand holding the knife wavered; the blade came away from his throat. “Rabbits? You… raise rabbits?”

“Sure do!” Farm replied with a grin. “Got me some sheep and a goat too. And a funky little lizard that looks like a dinosaur. Got all sorts uh critters.” He laughed. “Darn learnt everything but uh fishin’ pond, and even then, river ain’t too far away. If yuh stay past sunrise, yuh can mee’ em iffin yuh want.”

Again that hand lowered a little more. “I don’t have anything to give in exchange,” the stranger repeated. “I can’t pay you back.”

“Don’ need tuh,” Farm assured. He shrugged. “But iffin it’ll help yuh feel better ‘bout the whole deal, I can put yuh tuh work. If yuh like, you can stay as long as yuh need. Ah don’ mind none.” His smile fell. “Awful lonely way out here since mah brother moved to the city. Could use some company.”

Finally the knife came away from his throat. The shadows to Farm’s left solidified and moved, taking the form of a skeleton that stepped into the light of Farm’s flashlight.

Immediately noticeable was the chunk missing from the stranger’s skull. Farm did his best not to stare, turning his gaze to the stranger’s bloody, dusty hoodie and shorts. The stranger was both taller and wider than Farmer, and his teeth seemed both sharper and harder. Like they could break bone… His single red eyelight stared at Farmer with wary suspicion as he slid the knife back into his sleeve.

Farm moved the flashlight to his other hand so he could offer it to shake. “Farmer Sans,” he introduced himself. 

The eyelight flicked between the offered hand and his face. “Horror,” replied the stranger, not accepting the hand.

Which didn’t offend Farm at all. He suspected his guest had a list of reasons why he should keep his guard up. Farmer shrugged and changed flashlight hands again. 

“C’mon,” he offered with a grin. “Coffee’s gonna burn iffin we let it sit too long undrunk. Yuh like coffee?”

The red eyelight shifted to one side sheepishly. “It’s… been a long time since I had coffee…” 

Farmer patted his back. “Well, lucky fer you, I grow mah own.” He led the way out of the barn and closed it up behind them. “I even got uh special greenhouse so I can grow ‘em out of season.” He laughed. “Yuh’d be surprised how nice it is tuh have good, fresh coffee in the middle of winter!”

The skeleton paused to look back at his guest when Horror didn’t reply and found the stranger standing several paces behind, his gaze turned up to the sky. Black tears trickled down Horror’s cheeks. Farm smiled and looked up as well.

“Stars are mighty purdy tonight,” he said with a wistful sigh.

“Stars…” mumbled Horror. “Real stars…” He nodded and wiped his face with a shaky hand. “Yes… They are rather… pretty…”

Farm took a hesitant step closer. “Yuh ain’t never seen the stars before, have yuh…”

Silently the other skeleton shook his head.

“Well tell yuh whut…” Farm’s grin returned. “How ‘bout yuh make yerself nice an’ cozy on the porch swing while I make our coffee? That way we can talk an’ watch the stars together, a’ight?”

Horror wordlessly nodded. Though he remained unspeaking and his expression betraying nothing, Farm still sensed a deep, profound sadness, like a wounded animal just about to give up hope. And a small flicker of wonder at those stars. Saying nothing else himself, Farm led his guest to the wide porch swing. The hinges and chains squeaked a little as Horror hesitantly sat, wobbling as it tried to swing under him. It didn’t escape Farm’s notice that Horror sat on the edge of the swing, ready to leap to his feet at a moment’s notice. He would have said something about it, but Farm knew his guest wouldn’t simply accept the words “you can relax, it’s safe.” 

“You jus’ wait right here,” Farm told him. “I’ll get started on them biscuits an’ bring out some coffee, a’ight?”

Again, Horror only silently nodded, looking more and more like a child unsure if they were in trouble or unwelcome.

I just wanna wrap him in uh blanket an’ hug ‘im ‘til he gets it, Farm thought with a sigh as he retreated inside. 

He put away his gun and flashlight and got the biscuits rolled out. Cooking was little trouble for Farm; he enjoyed the task and saw it as a form of meditation. There were certain recipes he’d make on certain days, based on the weather or his mood. Focaccia was good for when he wanted to punch something, and fudge was for when the humidity was just right. 

Rolling and cutting out the biscuits gave him something to focus on so his mind wouldn’t wander in worry to his quiet guest.

He got the biscuits on a baking sheet and in the oven, then made coffee. Unsure of how Horror took his, Farm mixed one with extra sugar and creamer and one with just sugar, and would let his guest choose. 

As he left his kitchen, booty-bumping the door since his hands were full, Farm expected his guest to be gone.

But when he stepped outside, he found that Horror was right where Farm left him, sitting on the swing, crying black tears as he gazed up at the stars.

“How do yuh like her coffee?” Farm asked gently as he sat beside Horror on the swing. 

The broken skeleton shrugged.

Taking that to mean he didn’t care, and figuring Horror needed the extra goodness of it, Farmer gave him the bug with the cream-and-sugar coffee, keeping the black with sugar for himself. Farm leaned back on the swing and stretched an arm over the back of it. He crossed one leg over the other and used his foot to slowly rock them. Horror fumbled a little about to spring up and flee, but once he realized the movement was only them, he relaxed visibly. Leaning forward onto his elbows and knees, Horror rocked the swing with him.

For a while, neither spoke. They existed together in a comfortable quiet, sipping coffee, rocking on the swing, watching the stars. Farm had all the time in the world, and his patience was rewarded.

“I’ve never seen the stars,” Horror admitted. “I’m from a place so far away from them, we had a room that mimicked the night sky. Sparkling crystals embedded in a high ceiling… There was even a telescope you could look through for five undollars.”

“But…” Farm nudged him. The broken skeleton was speaking in the past tense.

Horror huffed a brief smile. “But it’s gone now. We needed the room for something else. We needed the crystals for something else. The star room was the first to go.”

“You don’ gotta talk ‘bout it iffin yer not ready.”

The broken skeleton nodded, and that was the end of the conversation.

[ackerpreach]

This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I don’t think I’m the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)

MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION

Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter

After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...

Mikasa’s worthless character development/ Aaronmika’s horrible toxic codependent relationship 

Oh honey... Let’s start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could.  She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared. 

but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Let’s make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaron’s dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN) 

Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaron’s always been head over heels for her???  He should have build their relationship better which he hasn’t even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.    

Like seriously??? What is this??? 

Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. It’s like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra money’s from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for. 

This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I can’t even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa. 

Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that?  Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all they’ve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way.  Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO!  All I see between these two after today’s raw Chapter’s are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship. 

Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this. 

Shonen’s disgusting portrayal of women 

I’ve seen this countless of times in the many years I’ve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesn’t notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. It’s disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way. 

It’s dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasa’s character right. That she’s finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, it’s burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangaka’s to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy. 

I wished he didn’t portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. I’m not saying she’s not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR. 

I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.

The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that??? 

It’s so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below.  I don’t know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and  it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesn’t fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place...  It’s like I’m reading a chapter from a totally different manga. 

Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaron’s character assassination

The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanity’s fear and Aaron’s hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he  got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and that’s it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historia’s baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. It’s his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. He’s so weak and directionless suddenly.. It’s so weird... This is not Aaron at all???

Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I don’t want others to invade our tags... :)))

Historia’s baby 

The only panel we got from Historia’s child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historia’s pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? It’s again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all  got thrown out of the window... 

Don’t read the next sentence if you are a minor :’) 

It’s like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.

My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action

In Conclusion...

I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayama’s story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. He’s become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesn’t need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. It’s his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didn’t know how to bind it all together.

Even after all this, I’ll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesn’t mean we have to.  I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesana​ and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we don’t neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art I’ve seen, the fanfictions I’ve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative. 

I love you all so so much, I’ve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3

[createandconstruct]

can i ask about amarant coral? the monk in red himself~

Can you ask about Amarant Coral? *cracks fingers* Oh I insist that you do. Welcome to my Amarant Appreciation Post:

favorite thing about them: First off best thing about Amarant? His theme. The percussion and the guitar. It’s great and it captures him so well. People out here like “take Amarant out of the game he adds nothing.” EXCUSE ME? You remove the Amarant you remove the Amarant Theme my friend and that is something I do NOT vibe with. 

least favorite thing about them: I wanna know more about him. Now Amarant doesn’t need a backstory or history in the game. In a sense, he already has one that connects him to Zidane and explains his motives and actions and eventual arc. But my issue is, Square never gave him anything else. If you look at Ultimania there’s additional lore about other characters, like Steiner for instance. You learn Steiner was a war orphan who was saved by the Pluto Knights - explaining his devotion to them. Amarant though? Square was like “uh... yeah he was born....? And then he uh got famous...? Idk then he met Zidane. You figure it out.” Square. I hate you. 18 years from his birth until he became “well known”. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY’D HE BECOME A SECURITY GUARD. WHAT WAS ON HIS RESUME. TELL MEEEE. Like, okay, what the actual in-game canon gives us on Amarant is sort of enough. He’s a purposely written mysterious “cool-guy” character so we’re given scraps to make him unknown but come on. In the published after-game canon, like Ultimania, we could have been given a bit more. He says he doesn’t remember anything about his origins or parents, but why. Was he another victim of Gaia’s wars? Probably. Was he born on a battlefield? Fighting for his life, living without comrades, taking scraps whenever he could? Was he betrayed when he was young? Is he a supposed to be a version of Zidane had he not been adopted into Tantalus by Baku??? These are questions I deserve answers to, Square.

favorite line: “’I can't just walk away. It goes against my nature...’ You're a real simpleton. Forget it, guys. There's no stopping this fool." I love this. Amarant figures Zidane out pretty quickly after Ipsen’s Castle. Zidane is hardheaded and also an actor. He acts cool and pretends his reasons for doing things are loose but when he’s decided something it’s always for a reason. You don’t need a reason to help people, but Zidane has his reasons for helping Kuja and while Amarant doesn’t give two shits what they are he knows Zidane won’t be stopped because, despite everything, Zidane saved a loser like him. Also this line “Tell me! Why didn't you kill me!?" Because I quote it all the time and it makes myself laugh. Amarant is such a drama queen and Zidane knows it. Zidane’s like “dude... what is your damage, it’s 5 pm on Tuesday in Madain Sari. I ain’t getting blood on my gloves cause you’re having a temper tantrum.” And then Amarant runs away to have an existential crisis. He’s 26 but compared to Zidane, he’s the real teenager with angst.  

brOTP: I could talk about Zidane or Freya with Amarant but instead I’m gonna say the underrated dynamic of Amarant and Eiko (and also Vivi).  Amarant with the kids is truly the greatest gift given by his presence in the game. Amarant has never known true suffering until he became a designated legal guardian of a group of minors. It also kills me how he’s the one to volunteer to carry Eiko and Vivi up the Iifa tree. He looks at Zidane and is like “you have seriously been the ‘adult’ of this group???”

OTP: Gotta say the Freya and Amarant dynamic. I really enjoyed their unlikely friendship in the game but then the content. The fan content. The Freya x Amarant fans out there, you win. Ya got me. You captured me and I am now imprisoned by their banter and begruntled allies to lovers story. Even if they’re not romantic I love them together and really wish the game gave us more of them. But even Lani and Amarant together are valid, though I prefer them as butting head bros. Not much content for my girl Lani out there either, she deserves more.

nOTP: Nothing I can think of. I tend to like platonic pairings for Amarant. The dude needs friends because he can barely define the word friendship.

random headcanon: Before Zidane returns at the end of the game Amarant wanders around a bit, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t feel any place with the others in Alexandria, Burmecia, or Lindblum. I imagine he goes off on his own for a bit like before but this time he’s not after Zidane or a fight. Instead he’s got no particular destination. Yet he somehow always finds himself running into people just like him - or the old him - friendless lonely people who are looking for a fight. He doesn’t go out his way to find these folks he simply runs into them and decides he might as well knock some sense into them. He does however make it his business to go after any murmur of people hatching any ideas of going after the far off little village on the Lost Continent. The home of the genomes and black mages. They were so helpless, so weak that anyone who’d want to mess with them is pathetic in Amarant’s book. Until Zidane returns, no one has the chance to even look at the Black Mage Village the wrong way because in the shadows Amarant lurks, making damn well sure of that.

unpopular opinion: I kinda love that he’s just there for most of the game? While I agree he gets the short end of the stick in the same way as Freya, not receiving additional individual character spotlight (which could have very well been supplied through discoverable lore in the world/npcs or through sidequests) I never considered his “standing off to the side” as a detriment to his character. 

Many would probably agree that Amarant always felt like a bit of a parody of the loner character, or at least the stereotype of the loner character. Amarant is so easily paralleled with Squall and Cloud’s surface-level attitudes because his dialogue always felt like something to poke fun at. As the player we’re supposed to align with Zidane’s way of thinking and how he views Amarant. When Amarant loses to Zidane and pretty much grits his teeth and goes “KILL ME,” along with Zidane we’re supposed to kinda raise our brow at him and go “...really, dude?”

 Amarant’s a character introduced as an antagonist who has more in common with the power hungry villains of the game. Like many of the characters in FFIX, Amarant is in search of purpose in life, which he has never found, because he was always looking in the wrong places - in places of violence and power. Very toxic-masculinity of him. Amarant is “cool” on an aesthetic level but in reality he’s the polar opposite of cool in terms of what FFIX states about the need for others to be intertwined in your experiences so that you can live a full life. 

I sort of love that he’s like a grumpy pitball following a 16 year old and his friends around. Then he sits in the corner when they all meet up and discuss current events acting like he doesn’t care (not to mention he casually walks as everyone is running as fast as they can to escape Terra - made me laugh cry on my first playthrough) He is “just there” but that’s because he has no where else to be, no where else to go, he’s a man without a home. And until Zidane offers his hand, at the point where Amarant is most willing to take it at Ipsen’s Castle, he’s not truly a party member. He IS an outsider for almost the entire game but at Ipsen Castle he joins the party, becomes a comrade, and decides he’ll allow himself to change paths and start a life where he has friends and lives, as well as fights for them. Which is why after that moment, Amarant finally has a victory pose.

song i associate with them: I was scratching my head for so long trying to think of a song or track that had Amarant vibes until it hit me. Outskirt Stand by Tsukasa Tawada (from Pokemon Colosseum). Amarant is so chill, he’s not a bombastic guy, so he needs a theme that drops me in the rocky open desert of the Lost Continent like I’m just lumbering around looking for a monkey-tailed menace. Some other Amarant tunes:  Pyrite Town, The Under, Snagem Hideout tracks from Pokemon Colosseum. This post is just an elaborate call to action for everyone to listen to the Pokemon Colosseum soundtrack. Tsukasa Tawada is so great and he has a YouTube. Check him out.

favorite picture of them:

Yoshitaka Amano’s Salamander Coral. I love him. He had too much power. 

Also everything drawn by @crispy-ghee. Everything. I will think of this Comic forever until I die. Tattoo it on my flesh. The banter, the dynamics, the post-game content, the Zidane prince-consort outfit, the new Amarant outfit, the stuck-in-the-same-place relationship him and Freya have. Perfect. Go read it and consume Crisipy’s stuff. And also check them and their current art out, they just consistently get better and better. Here’s a first panel preview of my fav comic. Read it.

 @hannahlady​‘s Amarant art and their Freya/Amarant art is just ugh. *Chef’s Kiss* Here is another preview because you should go look at it.

Here’s a piece that deserves so much more love by @snackage. I LOVE how they drew Amarant. Here’s a little preview. It’s SO GOOD

Anyway TL;DR: Amarant is love and life and you’ll have to pull him from my little gremlin hands.

[saphirered]

I absolutely love you're writing and would love just general headcanons for Yussa and his Bard SO. Please and thank you!

Sorry this took so long. Hope you like it! 😘

-

When Yussa first met you, or heard you he almost spilled the contents of his latest carefully planned, prepared and measured project. You made him jump and almost set him back weeks worth of work so when he found himself angrily looking out of the window where that angelic voice came from, it turned out it came right from below, in the square near the Tidepeak. He couldn’t deny you not only had a beautiful voice but knew out way around a lute and lyre too. The music had been beautiful but came at an inopportune moment, no matter what he did he couldn’t block out the sound.

When the music returned the next day during his reading it was very much pleasant. So pleasant he actually moved his chair over to the balcony so he could see you play from the square. Now with a better look, not only were you a great musician, you’re gorgeous at that too and he was not at all surprised to see the crowd gathered below watching you play and hanging onto every word of your song. He’d sent Wensforth to deliver you a generous reward for your entertainment. He’d seen the donations people left in a hat at your feet but deemed your skills rather undervalued. If you wanted to you could gather a crowd contesting those who attended the Ruby of the Sea’s performances, in his opinion.

Day after day, this nicely dressed goblin would bring you a most generous amount of coin that provided you not only a stay in a lavish inn, but also paid for all your daily expenses and then some. In the middle of your performance you couldn’t go after the goblin to thank him for his donation but on a particularly rainy day you were able to follow where he went; into the tower people had warned you of, the one without doors and only a balcony and some windows that seemed to move every day or even hour.

So after your performance you went knocking. Of course there was no door so you felt a little stupid knocking against the stone tower. When no answer came you just sat down at the base gently plucking away at the strings of your instrument. You’d wait to see if someone came home or left. It was nightfall when you saw someone on the balcony and you shouted up.

Little did you know this would be the beginning of something life changing. The Tidepeak would not be a place you’d distance yourself from and its master even less so. He’d ask you to play for him, revealing he had been sending you these generous donations. Yussa Errenis had offered you more than triple what he had given you for no more than an hour of musical entertainment once a week, more than you’d make in that same week alone so how could you refuse.

Those once a week for an hour extended to several times a week and long conversations after as not only were you an expert musician, you made for company just as good and for the first time in a long time Yussa realised he might not be as much of a solitary creature after all. He was simply lacking the company he needed and could appreciate. There was a mutual understanding and trust between you two, and a honesty he had not found anywhere else.

You let Yussa hear the new songs you’d been working on and pieces you were composing first before you played them in the open, and even left some of them just for his ears and realising this may just have made the stoic wizard blush like never before. You’d managed to break that attitude and while a man of manners and a head held high attitude, he wasn’t as cold nor distant with you. Though, not even you could tame that arrogance. Nor did you want to. There was something attracting about that.

You’re both smart enough people to know when an infatuation grows into something more and this is it. So you did what any reasonable adult would do; sat down and worked it out, communicated and figured out where you would stand in this. When the feeling turned out to be mutual it worked in both your favours as you could simply engage in that instead of keeping up an air of professionalism between musician and patron.

That did not mean your private concertos stopped. If anything they grew more frequent and if you weren’t on the road, had another place to perform or the weather was just simply bad, the door of the Tidepeak would be open to you day and night, and Yussa’s company at your side be that to listen to you play, you gently strumming away while he worked, or the two of you talked until the early hours of morning about your lives, your songs, his work or the hardships and frustrations you’d endured since you last met.

Physical affection would have to go slow. You might not be as opposed, it’s something Yussa needed to be eased into. Having lived alone and without the comforts of another for so long, he quickly got overwhelmed and needed a moment for himself. Never would you shame or judge him for that. You understood and that’s when he knew for sure he could see a future with you.

From that moment on, no more would you sleep in a tavern or an inn or wherever else you found suitable. You’d get your own space at the Tidepeak to do with as you pleased and while he had given you your own sitting room and balcony, you’d still most often found your way to his study even if just to sit there. Yussa wasn’t at all opposed to this as he rather enjoyed your company regardless of volume. He’d gotten used to it and would miss your presence when working.

Kisses were a rarity for the first few months and Yussa let you take the lead when it came to them but over time he grew more daring and eventually even came to initiate them of his own volition and without a feeling of needing to satisfy you but simply because he enjoyed them. You’d find yourself sitting on the couch, Yussa using you as a pillow while he read and he’d press a kiss against wherever was most convenient from his position. It never failed to make you smile and he’d do it just to see you smile, taking pride in getting such a gentle response.

Yussa is not a trusting person and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t trust you but old habits do die hard. Sleeping in the same space had been something he just couldn’t do, not even the meditative trance of his elvish blood. However, when you two fell asleep on the couch together, that made that easier. A bed was still a big no for sleeping purposes but the couch had become better and better and no longer would he lie awake while you slept.

Going out in public with Yussa may have been a bigger step in your relationship than physical intimacy of any kind. Yussa knew the opinions of the sharks around him and what lengths they would go to get into his good graces and he wanted to shield you from that, if not for your own sake then for his. But he couldn’t simply act like you didn’t exist and his changes in attitude came out of nowhere as those sharks also weren’t fools.

Attending a ball with Yussa was always something, you’d be stared down like the main show of the evening, or as if you just entered the room stark naked but you were very sure you weren’t. You’d be swarmed by people in a matter of moments, people wishing to hear the latest gossip and figure out your exact connection with the master of the Open Quay and during Yussa’d be internally screaming absolutely exasperated by these intruding annoyances and simpletons. Luckily he had your charm to save yourself and him. You’d deflected all advances, questions and unpleasant encounters like a protective shield with ease and grace and if those failed you a simple discrete spell to charm them into leaving you the hell alone was not out of the question. He couldn’t be more thankful. Maybe he should bring you along more often as you had proven to be his saving grace.

You may not be a politician nor were you schooled in his kind of magic. He may not be a musician nor was he particularly schooled in the ways of the bard’s colleges. None of that mattered because you were both willing to learn, showing an interest in the life of the other. Admittedly certain practices would never be the thing for the other but that didn’t matter because you could still appreciate the other’s love for it.

At the end of the day you were happy and would be happy, be that because you wrote a new song or Yussa cracked the code to a spell of his own making, you for scoring an invitation to play at some famous place in front of some renowned individuals, or him for making way in his practices and helping a group of curious individuals end a threat looming over this world. You were content with your wildly different lives and happy a song and an annoyance began it all.

[cowboyified]

Below are some WIPs I’m releasing into the wild. They were all written at different times over the past two years so any mistakes/cliches you can blame on past June, I don’t know them. 

Go, be free.

This first one I think is the one I’m most fond of. I had such a vision for it; bottlecaps in trees, river swimming, making out against the fridge, all that good stuff you get with weecest. 

The summer Sam is seventeen they stay in one place for long enough Dean starts referring to it as ‘home’. 

It’s an old farmhouse, miles from any other structure, bar an outhouse and hay shed. There’s a porch running the length of the front and back, the wooden boards pulled up from their nails, wavy with the weather. Weatherboard paint peeling, wallpaper inside torn and missing in most places. 

They’re squatting, technically. The property owned by a family saved by hunters once, friends of friends of Bobby’s, too distraught by what they’d witnessed to raise their kids on cursed land. Dean had told Sam that Dad had been told by Bobby that had been told by Pastor Jim that it was chupacabras. A whole pack of ‘em, feeding off the lambs in the back paddock, tried to take a bite out of the baby girl and Sam had said, “As if man, those things are tiny, I’ve seen pictures, you could kick one and it would limp away like a fucking chihuaha, you scared of chihuahas, huh, Dean?” But Sam still hikes his sheet up under his chin when he hears scuffling under their window between sleep. 

There’s remnants of the house’s past inhabitants still scattered around the place. Sam had stood and slid two inches on the wheels of a tiny replica car that had been jammed under the couch the second day they arrived, piffed it at his brother’s head, who’d caught it, exclaimed that it was Camero, dude, treat her with some respect and had sat it on top of the fridge. 

The bookshelf in the corner of their shared bedroom holds mostly dust and tattered occult books stolen from libraries from all over the country, left by hunters who have found what they’ve needed and moved on. There are a few of the worst Stephen King novels shoved haphazardly on the top shelf and Sam finds something funny in that, the irony in enjoying bad horror when the real deal lurks behind the screen door. 

Dean gives him a look when Sam pulls down and cracks open a copy of The Tommyknockers, snorts, “Haven’t you read that one already?” and Sam says, tucking himself into bed, “Yeah, it fucking sucks, King was royally off his head while writing it, that’s why it’s so good.” Sam finishes three quarters of it in one sitting while listening to Dean’s quiet snores from the other side of the room. 

It’s a ten minute drive to the closest town, an off the highway, invisible to the outside world, kind of one-street community. No reason to take the exit if you don’t already know it’s there, one store, one gas station, one bar in an old brick post office building, unfitting, the carpet pulled up at the corners but home to the best fries Sam has ever had in his life. 

Sam follows Dean out to the courtyard, neither of them are legally old enough to drink but there’s nothing else to do but to get respectably drunk in a place like this, anyone that has lived long enough in the true country is some kind of functioning alcoholic, so Dean orders a beer and isn’t asked for ID. In a town small enough for everyone to know every intricate detail in the threads of dirty laundry, they are foreigners. No one knows where they’re from or where they’re going and Sam knows that Dean likes it that way.

It’s never been a secret that Sam prefers to feel like he has a part in everyday normalcy. Dean thrives under anonymity, gets a kick out of it because it makes him feel dangerous. He had stopped accompanying Sam to school two states ago, a silent agreement with their father when Dean had come home early and helped John cut splits into the tips of bullets instead. Like hell I’m signing up for compulsory extra curricular activities. What’s the point in making friends with people whose biggest concerns are the answers to whatever bullshit test and who fucked who last Friday? 

Finding comfort in a nine-to-five kind of community is a flaw Sam’s been burdened to deal with. 

It’s early afternoon, the courtyard is empty and the table they chose rocks on its legs every time Dean slides his drink over for Sam to share. It’s bitter and Sam hasn’t had enough beer in his life to know if it’s supposed to be like that or if it has just soured from the long journey it took to get from the brewery to their glass. He drinks it and doesn’t grimace because his brother is looking at him through the rays of warm country sun. 

“Tastes like piss, huh,” Dean says, leaning forward out of the light so Sam can see him clearly again. He takes back the glass. 

“S’not that bad,” Sam replies, rubbing the leftover condensation into his hand, doesn’t look at Dean, finds it hard these days, twists in his gut all wrong. Sam knows why. 

His brother hums, “There’s gotta be something else to do around here.”

Sam thinks, Dad’s left the car, we can go wherever we want, but doesn’t say it because his brother is loyal to a disastrous fault. 

That’s a recurring thought. Sam in the shotgun seat, his brother behind the wheel, driving away. Just away, to someplace else and they’d be okay because they’d have each other and all Sam ever needs is his brother, like water. But John will be back in two weeks, term starts again in a month and he needs his father to sign the enrollment forms. Two more years. 

“You see the old dredge outside of town?” Sam asks, remembers passing it when they arrived, all twisted, rusting metal, the bones of it against the setting sun.

“What did I tell you about respecting your elders?”

“You told me that they all smell like porridge and are easily susceptible to sleight of hand. No, Dean, Dredge,” Sam stresses. “Big rusty old machine that pulls minerals out of water.”

“Looking to strike big, Sammy?”

“Yeah, you see, my family is poor, brother at home too dumb to get a job. Our father went to get milk and never came back,” Sam sniffs for effect. “I can’t go home empty handed again, sir.” 

“Ah, a real sob story,” Dean nods in understanding, tips his head back and finishes the beer. “Let’s get out there then, sonny. We shan't let that simpleton, downright fool of a brother go hungry.” Dean jabs Sam in the ribs when he stands, hard enough for him to gasp, gets Sam’s head under his arm before he can recover. Sam claws embarrassingly at his brother’s torso, face pressed warm into the side of Dean’s waist. 

“I will pray for us young Samuel, for I too, dream of riches,” his brother is exclaiming, tripping them out and onto the street. “I only ask that we share whatever bounty dredged as I saw the most exquisite pony a few miles back and I simply must have it.”

And Sam thinks - with his flushed cheek hard against Dean’s skin through the thin sweaty fabric of his shirt, heart beating too fast against his ribs in a way that has nothing to do with exhaustion - you can have it all. 

---

Sam’s brother’s perpetual state of being is ten miles over the speed limit; this can be applied to almost every aspect of him. Dean goes and goes and rarely stops. They’re pushing double that out of town, north of their property, into the forever stretch of flat land and Sam loses himself in it. That idea of away, of going and going and that Dean could take him because he’s an expert in the field. 

The Impala blasts Born To Be Wild and Sam imagines the lyrics spreading out over the dry grass. He rolls the window down and throws his head out, trying his best to keep his eyes open against the road’s wind. The sun beats down, warmth soaking through and into his bones and Sam laughs as the cattle turn to catch a glimpse of them soaring. 

Dean pulls him in, tugs at the back of his shirt, says something along the lines of, what are you, a dog? Should get you a shock collar for all the times you’re a little bitch, but Sam can’t hear him over the roaring of the open window and the look of transparent glee on Dean’s face, it’s loud and assaulting and Sam has to turn away because seeing Dean like that wobbles him dangerously from the nonchalant facade he has going on in relation to how he feels about his brother. But mostly his face hurts from smiling too wide.

Used as a warm up last year. Boyking!Sam

He thinks he’s in Louisiana, maybe. That he got here in the tray of a pickup and that he couldn’t feel the wind in his hair like maybe he should. The driver had stopped for a piss-break and Sam had snapped his neck without his hands.

He rubs them together now, tries to feel guilty but there’s nothing to feel guilty about because his hands are clean; he doesn’t have to use them anymore. 

Sam thinks he’s in Louisiana because he stepped out of the truck and into a wet kind of heat. There’s a church with thick greenery growing over the roof and white wood that’s been mold-blackened by the humidity. He laughs to the darkness because it's very funny to him that he’s driven himself subconsciously to a place of grace. 

He skips up the steps, two at a time, gleefully. The smell of the bayou and rotting wood has put him in a good mood. The lock snaps when he blinks, the chain unraveling and snaking into a coil at his feet. The doors open for him and maybe he did that with his mind too, or maybe they were just expecting him. 

The church has been used recently, its interior better kept than the outside, bibles tucked neatly in the backs of pews, ribbons tied into plaits. The white of the moon falls in blankets through the windows, shadows of leaves moving over the floor like rippling water and the bust of Mother Mary prays for him at the altar. 

Sam spreads his arms and addresses her, says to the room at large, “Shall I repent for my sins, oh Lord?” and it echoes, gives him goosebumps, a current under his skin. He has an audience here because God is omnipresent, this is a place of worship and Sam has always been good at that. 

A church in Louisiana, standing before a plaster of his mother’s namesake in a church for a God he used to think could have some defying factor in a destiny that was always going to be concrete. It’s funny, blatantly. Sam puts his hands gently to Mary’s cold face, kisses her on her lips before crushing her head, spraying ceramic. 

Sam stands behind the lectern, hands red with his own blood now, sticking the pages of the Good Book. He’s read it before anyway. 

“Am I to be forgiven?” 

Last is a casefic I had planned out in 2019. I didn’t get very far into the actual writing part of it, but I still think the setting is cool, less so the plot I had in mind. 

Just outside of Bridgeport, Connecticut there’s a community built on a sandbar. A small secluded semi-island, connected to the mainland by a mile-long beachfront. A town of forty to fifty now abandoned, vandalised residences.

The police find the bodies of the boys there, bleeding out and into the sand, each other’s skin caught under their fingernails. 

Sam watches as his brother pulls the sheet back from one of the corpses, laying blue on the steel morgue tray. He’s a kid, a boy, not even eighteen. Hairless, lanky, multiple stab wounds puckered around his belly and Sam thinks he does not look peaceful for someone who is meant to be at rest. 

Dean is quieter than usual, his body language stiff. They’ve seen their fair share of dead kids but Sam thinks that this one might look a little too much like an adolescent version of himself. Shaggy brown hair, too long limbs, college on the horizon. Sam blankets the sheet back over the boy’s face and hears his brother exhale in what he thinks might be relief.

The coroner tells them that the other two are the same, besides the youngest one. He’d been blinded, thumbs pushed through his eyes until they popped like grapes. He asks if they want to see him too and Sam says no, thank you, we’ve got what we need.

Which is a whole lot of nothing, but they’ve only just arrived and there’s evidence that doesn’t involve corpses that needs to be checked.

“Pussied out in there huh, Sammy?” Dean says as they’re walking down the funeral home’s front steps, past the manicured roses and trimmed lawn. You see these perfect hedges? We’ll treat your dead mother with the same detailed care!

Sam pulls at his tie and scoffs because he knows he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable standing in the morgue; cases that involve kids always rub them both wrong.

[night-rook]

Soulmate AU | Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

                                                  ━━ 💜━━ Word Count: 4,389

Reader Type: Gender Neutral, Soulmate, 

Story Type: Soulmate AU, My Hero Academia, 

Beware:

Summary: Soulmates have cats that are a reflection of their human selves. The cat has the personality and physical traits of your soulmate. The cats are semi immortal until the you meet your soulmate. When you meet and/or accept your soulmate, the cat vanishes.

Key terms:

(Y/N) = Your name (L/N) = Your Last Name (H/C) = Hair Color (E/C) = Eye Color (F/C) = Favorite Color                                                   ━━ 💜━━ A pair of lilac eyes lazily starred as you got dressed for Yuuei. Letting out a silent yawn, the feline got up from their spot on the bed and walked up to you. They sensed you were nervous for the day, knowing fully well that you were overthinking the events. Their silk like fur brushed against your legs as you frustratedly tied your tie for the tenth time in five minutes. You looked away from your reflection and smiled down at the fluffy indigo cat. Kneeling down to their level, you ran a hair through their fur. They responded with a low raspy purr and leaned into your hand, closing their eyes as they tried to distract you from the mental bully that was your brain. They placed a paw on your wrist and buried their head into the palm of your hand. “I just hope I can prove myself. Everyone is gonna be all out and I should too, right?” You smiled as the feline placed a paw on your wrist and buried their head into the palm of your hand. You stood up and headed to the front door, only stopping to slip on your shoes. The fur ball chasing after you and stopping by your side to watch you put on your shoes. They crawled onto your lap and stopped you from continuing. Their lilac eyes stared at you for a solid minute before licking your nose with their tongue. You blinked at their small sign of affection before a smile broke across your face. “You better root for me, okay, Aster. You are going to see that your mate is the best hero!” You grinned down at the feline before heading out the door. Only to open the door once more to get another look at the lazy cat, you bowed and gave them a kiss on their head. “Thank you..” You walked out of your apartment and headed to the train station. Grabbing a small snack as you waited for the train, you looked around and only smiled at the crowds.                                                    ━━ 💜━━ Felines of all shapes and sizes were close to their humans. There are thin cats, big cats, soft cats, rough cats, ect! Their furs all different from each other while their colored eyes shined with the sun. Your world was special. Not only was there a chance to be a real life hero due to the unique ability called a “quirk”, the world had a unique system set for finding your one true partner. If you haven’t guessed it yet, the system has something to do with cats. The soulmate system has cat representatives to help you understand your destined partner. The feline has the same personality as their human counterpart so you could be able to identify your soulmate. The appearance of the cat reflects their human counterpart as well. If the human has dyed their hair, the cat’s fur will mimic them.  The soulmate cat is unlike the normal felines you would see. The uniqueness of the cat is not only the appearance and personality, but their life span. You see.. The soulmate cat is only able to live until you meet your soulmate. They are semi immortal, you could say they are demigods but that isn’t exactly it! Once you meet your soulmate, the cat will vanish from reality as it has completed their guide.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ You had been the happiest when your feline appeared during middle school after moving. Your cat is a british longhair. His fur is extremely fluffy and soft with a mysterious indigo coloring. His lilac eyes can be quite hypnotic as they lazily stare at things, especially when you go on bike rides. He enjoys going on your basket as you ride around the city to destress from classes and training. He was quite distant when he first appeared, keeping himself away from you at all costs. However, he warmed up to you over time. He sensed you were not threatening as you would approach him with caution when you would feed him or find him sleeping somewhere. Your heart fluttered when he curled up to you one late night in bed after a harsh day at school. This was a sign of acceptance due to the countless days he would stare at you with disinterest. You had an extremely hard time figuring out a name for him. His personality was just not suitable for any names you could come up with. He even hissed when you suggested a female name that meant “Lilac”. At the end of the day, you would refer to him as “Aster” which is a type of flower. The fluffy cat seemed to have enjoyed the name, so you were happy he was happy.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ The Sports Festival was in full swing! Everyone was gathering towards the stage as the classes were being called out. You were nervous as the announcements were being made. You clenched your fists tightly to prevent yourself from running away. “(L/N), what’s wrong.” someone placed a hand on your shoulder. Looking away from the angry looking blonde who walked off the stage, you came face to face with one of your classmates. His blue eyes reflected concern for a split second as he raised a brow in question. You could only nod your head while reaching up to rub your neck. “Yeah.. I just don’t know how I’m gonna do this.” you let out a shaky sigh and smiled at the blond boy. “You sure? I don’t want to lose against those 1-A simpletons with you slacking off due to silly stage fright. Honestly you can’t be a hero if you-” “Would you not bully the only person who gives you a snack during class!” Kendo punched Monome down before he could finish his sentence. She smiled empathy at you and patted your head, reassuring you that everything was going to be fine. You looked down at your hands before clenching them as a smile drew across your face. The first part of the festival is a race. Your quirk is just perfect! You could just manipulate the ground and go from there! Everyone waited for the starting call. You decided to hang back of the crowd and take deep breaths, closing your eyes for a moment. Collecting your thoughts, you hold out your hands and tense your muscles immediately at the sound of the starting gun.  “Do you folks feel that?! These beats are heavier than the club bass! What’s this?!” Present Mis commented as the stadium began to shake.  The earth below the stadium reacted to your movements. The first years were tuna fish in the small entrance way and you didn’t want to cram them in a hole. You widen your stance as the student body makes it difficult to focus on the soil weight. Gathering enough earth, you smiled widely before running up the man-made bridge you had made. Stepping onto it, you wasted no time to pull yourself upwards.  “If it isn't a class 1-B resident! (F/N) (L/N)! Her quirk, Terrakinesis. She has the ability to control any form of earth! No wonder we were shaking and rocking!” Present Mic laughed at his own joke but his mummy companion grunted in displeasure.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ You were in luck as the 1-A student froze the robot, the moment you joined the track. But the robot started to fall apart as Todoroki took to the lead. Acting quick, you formed a tunnel of your own to prevent the metal from landing on you and a few others. Unaware that the people you had saved were under the control of a quirk, you only acted as they seemed to be in a daze. Only thinking it was the overuse of their own quirks.  “How kind of you... To help an enemy out,” A smooth voice rang out within the tunnel. You looked behind you and tilted your head in question at the person who spoke. He was being held up by three people. Flashing you a lazily smirk, his lilac eyes seemed to glow in the dull setting. Your body felt weird staring at his eyes, the smirk causing a chill down your spine. Despite the shiver, he looked strangely familiar to you the longer you stared at him. You slapped your face before turning away to run out the tunnel, leaving the odd boy behind in confusion at your sudden action. His eyes looked like Aster’s! Holy shit this is intense! You mentally screamed while running down toward the next stage of the race. Coming to a complete stop, you looked at the ropes and the students struggled to cross them. You rubbed your face and started to focus on your next move. However, you start to hear mumbling right next to you. Turning your attention, you raised a brow at the fluffy green haired boy to your left. He seemed to be in his own world while talking about his ideas of crossing with the heavy metal plate in his arms “Hey. You need help crossing? You can tag with me and we can make it to the end faster!” You grinned before punching the air. The earth reacting to your movement swiftly, causing the green boy to jump in surprise. He seemed nervous but you only smiled more while continuing to build a crossing for the both of you. He smiled back as you had helped him cross over the jungle of ropes, making it easy for him since he had to carry the metal from tha robot. The both of you ran onto the next course while introducing yourself, putting a name to face. Midoriya filled you in on his plan as you both came across the minefield. “(L/N)-chan, can you help gather the mines to this spot? If we get enough, I use the plate as a guard so we can use the explosion as a boost!” You stared at the borroli boy wearily as his plan seemed to be risky since you were dealing with bombs. Exhaling a shaky breath, you nodded and started to pull the furthest mines towards you and Midoriya while he dug the closest one. While you both focused on the bomb gathering, the eerie feeling of eyes ran through your spine. The chill comes back as it causes goosebumps across your skin. “That should be enough. You ready, (L/N)-chan?” Ignoring the eerie feeling, you nodded and hopped onto Midoriya’s back while he placed the metal shield in front of him. He took a deep breath then jumped onto the pile of mines. The shock blast launched the two of you skyward and fast! You tighten your hold on the boy and close your eyes. As you were closing in on the angry blond and cold dual haired boy, Midoriya started to panic at the lack of mines. “(L/N)-chan! Help!”  Opening your eyes, you reached a hand out and forced the soil to gather mines right as Midoriya salmed the metal plate down. A second blast was made and sent you two flying forward. You both slid across the dirt trail and quickly got up to continue running towards the finish line. Midoriya took the lead with you being close behind. This is it! Aster, I hope you saw me wherever you are! You grinned as you entered through the tunnel but the enthusiasm didn’t last long. The air chilled around you as you took a step forward. The chill traveled up from your foot and crawled up to your thigh. Shivering from the sudden ice attack, you were stuck in place and forced to watch Todoroki and Bakugou rush by you. You tried to take deep breaths but the panic began to set instead. Desperation settled into your mind as you tried to break the ice on your leg. The cold solid causes pain to course through you with each impact your fist made. Your (E/C) eyes started to water up from both distress and agony reflected over them. Multiple students started to pass you while you tried to escape the ice. “Well looks like we meet again, stranger,”a deep chuckle came from behind you. “Seems to me you’re in a bit of a pickle.” If it wasn’t for the ice, your body would automatically feel the burning from his empty eyes. You turned your attention to the boy and took a good look at him. His hair was messy and flaring up in all directions, but it looked silky. You noticed his half lidded eyes are lilac with white pupils, almost hypnotic if you could say anything. But the bags under his eyes stood out against his pale complex. If you had to give him an aesthetic, he gave off a mad scientist vibe except he looked cute.. Kinda like Aster. Your eyes widen at the thought of your british longhair who might be staring out a window or laying on your pillow back at your apartment. You were distracted on comparing your soulmate cat that you didn’t notice the boy gave a command to someone else. The release from the cold brought you back to reality. Blinking you looked at the student that broke the ice and was about to thank them but they seemed to be in daze. “Consider us equal for the tunnel. I wouldn’t want to miss a chance at seeing you lose.” He chuckled once more before walking towards the finish line. Giving you a smug smirk as he passed by you. Not wasting your chance you went after him, both of you placing a spot onto the next event.                                                    ━━ 💜━━ You sighed heavily and fell to the ground. Falling face first onto the cement of the stage, you grunted from frustration and pain. You rolled onto your back and listened to Midnight give the next announcement for the event. Your body was aching due to the coldness radiation from your leg. A figure walked over to you afterwards as everyone who passed looked for partners. You recognized the neat blond hair as a smile sketched across his face. “So you actually made it! Good, you can join my team, (L/N). I can set aside the little tag team you did with the one million kid bu-” “I rather not, Neito. I’ll just be a pillar for you to copy.." you rubbed your arm nervously as his blue eyes burned through your skull. "At least we will be able to win with you on the team. You could break the ground and-" "Actually, (L/N) is going to be on my team.” The new voice broke the two apart as the purple boy made another appearance by your side. His smug smirk ever so present on his face while staring down at Neito. You blinked and looked at both males with confusion, unaware that the purple boy’s hand on your shoulder. Monoma only glared before turning away to look for someone else. Leaving you with the mysterious boy. Snapping out of your confusion, you looked at the rather tall boy and pouted a bit. “You know my name? I don’t remember telling you..” The boy raised a brow at you before his attitude shifted slightly at the way you pouted. Rubbing the back of his neck, he debuted with himself before returning to being reserved. His eyes seemed to shine an eerie shade of indigo while looking at you. Your own (e/c) pupils shook as his eyes were astonishingly identical to Aster.  “I just have a staggering sense of hearing. Besides, your quirk is powerful and it would be playing backseat to that blond,”He stared right at you. “Why not join me. You won’t be backseating with me.” “You seem-”  A velvety wave overtook your body at the response you gave. Your body shutting down as darkness coated your conscience while all sense of control was taken. The last thing your saw was the flash of concern in his violet eyes before your vision vanished.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ “In third place, Tetsute- WAIT WHAT?! It’s Team Shinsou!” Present Mic questionably  announced. “When did you come from behind?” You blink and looked in all directions. Furrowing your brows, you looked at your supposed teammates. You recognised Shoda immediately but not the tail boy. Your mind trying to comprehend what was going on despite the crowd's cheers for the remaining sixteen students. Feeling a wet sensation burning your eyes, you rubbed your eyes and grew more confused at the wetness from the sudden tears. “Wait- How did- What’s going on?” You ask as you get directed to walk away from the stadium for the short break. You sighed and smiled at the man as he handed you a candy apple. Taking a spot under a shady tree, you sat down and silently ate the sweet treat. Your troubling mind trying to recollect everything but it was coming up empty. Your brain tried and tried and tried to remember but it just couldn’t! Coming up with nothing, your frustration built up within you. Tears build up in your eyes, some spilling and trailing down your cheek. You spent years training with your mom when your quirk first appeared. She was so happy that you inherited her earth ability and even enrolled you in martial art classes to help control it. All your hard work paid off when you got accepted to Yuuei!  A low purr breaks the dark cloud around you. Opening your eyes, that you didn’t realize you had closed, a silky coat of purple fur rubbed against your cheek. The soft texture wiped away the tears that blurred your vision as the purring rang around you. “How did you get here, Aster...” Your voice is quiet and creaking from resisting breaking down. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here.. I really did try.” The feline pulled away and looked up at your redden face, his violet orbs shining with worry at you. You sniffed slightly before smiling at the cat, petting him for ressures. He immediately leaned into your touch and continued to purr. The low rumble comforts you.  The feline tilted his head at you and leaned to lick the tip of your nose. He climbed up into your arms after the announcement to gather was made. You only smiled down at the purple cat and carried him with you. You walked into the stadium to await the next event, however you were still unsettled with the results.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ The next and final event of a one on one battle. The sixteen participants were going to fight one another and the winner got to advance to the next round. However, the tail boy from earlier soon asked if he could drop out from the event. His pride had been hit due to the same reason you were frustrated over. Shoda followed shortly next after Midnight approved the request. You looked down at the floor. Aster resting on your shoulders and purring to keep you calm as you gave one last try in remembering. “Are there any more who wish to drop.” Midnight spoke as her violet eyes scanned the crowd. Raising a hand, you looked up at the female teacher, “I want to drop out of the event.” Midnight looked down at you and smiled at you. She could tell the inner confect you were going through from the firmness of your words and noticed the soulmate cat on your shoulders. She saw how curled his body was around you, knowing easily that you had been deep in thought.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ You sat at the stands with the rest of your class. Your classmates noticed the purple feline on your shoulder. The females all called him cute and tried to pet him, but Aster hissed at them even getting close to him. “Sorry guys. He’s not a big fan-” You stopped as the weight on your shoulder disappeared. Aster had jumped off your shoulders and onto the railing. His violet eyes intensely stared at the boy who walked onto the arena. You stared at the cat and followed at the direction he was focused at. At the sight of hair alone, you shot up from your seat and gripped tightly onto the railing Aster sat on. That boy. That boy who helped you on the race! He was your soulmate... You took a glance at the feline next to you and heard the low rumble as clear as day. Looking back at the fight between Midoriya and Shinso. Your heart began to race at the scene.  His words echoed with anger. His posture went from indifferent due to nearly winning to disheartening the moment Midoriya broke the trance. You saw the irrational movements and the desperation as he shoved back. Aster's lilac eyes reflected the despair that the purple boy had when Midoriya won. You reached towards the feline and held him close to you as the crowd cheered. "Take me to him.. Shinso Hitoshi." You whispered to the soulmate guide. The name sparked the instincts the feline had. His fur seemed to have fuzz up before jumping from your arms. The small creature ran out the Class 1-B stands without a moment wasted. Smiling, you chased right after him.

Your rushing steps echoed through the empty hallways as you followed the running purple fur ball. Your soulmate was just on the other side!                                                   ━━ 💜━━

"Oh, kitten. Why did you come here?" Shinso lifted the (c/f) cat as they had waited for him at the entrance. He remembered keeping the feline in their carrier before the start of the competition. Even asking his teacher to look after them in case of any problems. To say the feline isn’t spoilt is an understatement. Shinso had bought the (f/c) carrier after his soulmate cat appeared, not wanting to go a day without them. Especially through the hell that was rumors about his quirk. They were his support. He always seeked them out when he got home after a troubling day. Cuddling them close to him and forgetting all about the day. Their gentle purring music to his ears and giving him a moment of bliss.  He had a feeling that today was going to be a stressful time and he was correct. Kitten must have escaped the carrier and found their way to the stage entrance. They knew he was in distress and came to him. They immediately started to purr softly at him and nuzzle their small head against his cheek as they brought him back to reality. The light sound eased his aching heart. They were trying to comfort him after a crushing defeat from the crazed broccoli haired boy.  Shinso smiled at their comforting affection. He ran his hand through their smooth fur coat as he walked to watch the rest of the matches. The shining (h/c) fur reminds him of the earth student from the race and calvay fight. He chuckled to himself at the odd possibility that (L/N) from class 1-B being his soulmate cat’s human self. "I only hope you don't think I'm pathetic. I tried to win so you wouldn't think your soulmate with a villain quirk was.. was just that.." he spoke to them while they purred against his chest. "Your support is all I have left." As he walked towards the stands, his feline head shot up and their purring came to a stop. Jumping out from his arms, the feline ran in the other direction. The boy stared at the fleeing cat before realizing what was going on. His soulmate was here! They were in the stadium and looking for him! Shinso clenched his fists before following the feline.                                                   ━━ 💜━━ Both students ran from opposite ends, closing in on one another. Their soulmate guides led the chase for them to meet. Their fur coats glow as the distance lessens, both their heart beats increasing as they drew near. The chase soon comes to an end as the felines meet, curling up against each other. The purring from both cats grew in sound. Your (e/c) eyes glued on them as the warmth radiates from their small bodies. Both of you trying to catch your breaths after running what felt like two hundred miles. You were the first to recover and straighten up. Looking up, you focused your attention to the boy who had brainwashed you. Shinso looked up at you. His eyes confused as to why you, the girl who he used, would seek him out. Sure you just discovered your destined partner but you had to be rational enough to know. He had used you to win! His own soulmate was a victim to his quirk that he tried to prove wasn't villainous. His heart ached at the thought. Too ashamed of himself to face you, He looked away from you. Your support was all he had left, but he ruined it. He ruined his chance!  Clenching his fists over his heart, he closed his eyes and waited for the harsh rejected. "I'm sorry.. I didn't know. If I had known then- you could have- I'm sorry." He tried to apologize, but his voice betrayed him as it broke his words. However, you turned his head back by placing a hand on his cheek. Your smile never fell as your thumb rubbed his pale skin. "Don't worry about it.. You were amazing out there and that quirk of yours.. Yuuei didn't know the gem that hid in general studies until now." Reaching down, you gently and carefully hold his hand. You bring his hand up and cup it between both your hands before giving his knuckles a light kiss. His eyes staring at you curiously at the warm affection you were displaying.  "I'm (F/N) (L/N). It's nice to finally meet you, Soulmate." You smiled at him. He let out a quiet chuckle before smiling back at you, “I’m glad to meet you too.. I’m Hitoshi Shinso.” Both felines starred up at their human counterparts before looking at one another. Leaning close to each other, the guides’ bodies slowly fade away. Their eyes looking up at the two students once more before vanishing completely.                                                    ━━ 💜━━

[producingtrashycontent]

who are your favorite top ten black clover characters & ships? talk about them! ~tat

Ooh this will be fun. I'm not sure I'll have as much to say as some other people who have been asked this question, but I hope it's ok!

Top 10 Black Clover Characters

1. Mereoleona Vermillion

I could rant for hours about how much I love this woman. She's very strong and doesn't give a damn about status, which I love about her. Like almost all the females in Black Clover, she isn't overly sexualized or dependent on a man in some way. I love her character design, her magic, and everything. I think I'm a little obsessed with this woman honestly.

2. Noelle Silva

A typical female shonen character that's part of the main guy's harem. What I love about Noelle is her development. She goes from a royal who hates commoners to a strong female lead that accepts anyone for who they are. I haven't watched all the anime in the world, but from what I've seen, she's gotten the best development of any shonen female. If there's another one out there, please let me know. I love that Noelle's character development isn't over. I can't wait to see where she ends up by the end of the series.

3. Asta

Our gray-clad hero. A typical shonen protagonist with a never give up mentality. I really love that about Asta. Asta's mental strength is off the charts. He was able to dealing with people bullying him his entire life over something he had no control over. And yet, he continues pushing onward to change the dynamics of the Clover Kingdom. What a brave boy. Of course, with mental strength like that, it makes sense his brain can't keep up in other areas. I love how much of a simpleton Asta can be. It makes him more endearing. Asta's character even inspires me to push past my own limits and never give up on my dreams.

4. William Vangeance

A sweet, quiet man with a deadly secret. I love his origin story and how it has affected his life to this day. The main thing I love is how complex his character becomes. From a top captain to a man struggling living with another soul in his body that defies the ideals and people he believes in, William is complex. I couldn't imagine living with another soul in my body for about 15ish years. Dealing with this all alone without going insane marks William as another mentally strong character. Choosing between the mentor that saved you and gave you a new life and the best friend who's shared your body for longer than you've know your mentor must be a very difficult decision to make. I'm not surprised William wasn't able to choose between them. I hope both William and Patry get a good redemption arc.

5. Finral Roulacase

A typical playboy character. He's cute, funny, and relatable. I tend not to like playboy characters, but Finral is different. He believes all women should be worshipped and treated like princesses, and he actually has a backstory. Having a sibling who is better than you in all ways reminds me of Zuko and Azula from Avatar. Despite dealing with his parents disappointment and his sibling's sneering his whole life, Finral never turned evil or tried to get revenge. At first, he ran from his problems, but with the help of the Black Bulls, he conquered his fears and grows stronger each day. I really love this boy.

6. Nozel Silva

LOOKS AT HIM HE'S SO FUCKING CUTE DJJSJDJAJJS! Ok rant over. As a royal, I never expected Nozel to have a reason for treating Noelle the way he did. Granted, I don't approve of it at all, but I love that he's working to change. He's also very stoic and strong. Nozel has a cold exterior that can be broken over time. That's what Asta did to this Silver Eagle. Now, Nozel is rivals with 2 commoners. I love that he's changing to be better with Noelle. I can't surroort how he treated Noelle before, but I love that he's working to change his relationship with her. Also, his braid is so majestic. I had a dream and the whole dream was me staring at Nozel's majestic braid flowing in the breeze. I love this handsome man.

7. Yami Sukehiro

This man. Thiiiiis man. He is glorious. He's funny, smart, grumpy, and strong. I love him for all the reasons everyone else does. The main thing I love about Yami is the vibe he gives off. When I see Yami, I see a shonen protagonist who has completed their journey and gives advice to the newest generation of protagonists. He's such a well-rounded character. I would live a spin-off series of Yami's adventures when he was young. That would really sell.

8. Fuegoleon/Leopold Vermillion

THEY'RE BOTH SO PRECIOUS

Fuegoleon: I love this man. Such an inspiration. Just like his other siblings, he doesn't care about status. My favourite line if his is: "There isn't any shame is being weak. The shame is in staying weak." This line can really apply to anything in life. He also inspires me to do better.

Leopold: BABY. Ahem. I love his spunky personality. He's makes me think of Asta had he been born into a royal family. I love that, even though he's a royal, he has his own issues to deal with: making his own way in life and not having to live in his siblings' shadow. He's just a precious bean that requires protection.

9. Klaus Lunettes/Julius Novachrono

I RAN OUT OF PIC SPACE

Anyway, I love these boys. So good.

Klaus: Mom friends are the best kind of friends. I love that he changed because he witnessed Asta and Yuno's abilities and decided these boys were strong. They weren't cheating in any way. He was the first noble to change his ways and believe is Asta and Yuno, and I really love him for that.

Julius: A man working to change his country. We love that. I love that Julius is working towards a country where everyone tears each other as equals. That's a hard task to take on, yet Julius didn't hesitate and took the challenge head-on. Also he's hot...

10. Dorothy Unsworth/Yuno

I love these babies so much.

Dorothy: Hot, short, and powerful. My spirit animal. She's hella strong and shows us that you don't need to be a big strong man to be a powerful leader. Also, she sleeps a lot, which is something I desire more of in life.

Yuno: UwU baby. Hot, strong, and stoic. What more do you need? I love his HEALTHY rivalry with Asta. It's such a joy to watch him grow side-by-side with Asta. I love him so much that I'm not even sure who I want to become the Wizard King in the end. Can we have them both be Wizard Kings?

I don't have a top 10 list of ships, but I do have ships. I'll just talk about them in no particular order.

Mereoleona x William

I love this ship because opposites attract. But if someone tells me they ship William and Patry, I'm not going to argue. Overall, this ship would make both these characters even better than they are now.

Dorothy x Nozel

I get Hinata/Kageyama vibes from this ship. A small, eager baby with a tall, stoic and distant partner. The main reason I ship this is because of the fact that Dorothy knows about what happened to Acier. Nozel wouldn't tell just anyone about that. He must trust Dorothy a huge amount for her to know that information. A royal wouldn't share his darkest family secret with a lavender-haired witch from another country. Also, after the time skip, they both changed a part of their outfits for feathers of the bird corresponding their squad. They got feathers together!

Finral x Vanessa

After the seabed temple arc, I shipped these two. They have such a wholesome relationship that makes them better people. They're so cute together! What else can I say?

Asta x Noelle

I love how much they help each other become better. Asta is doesn't realize it yet, but he cares about Noelle more than he realizes. Noelle fell for Asta because he was the first person to ever say anything good about her magic. I just love these two. They're so cute!

Yami x Charlotte

I get the same vibes from this as I get from Asta x Noelle. A tsundere and an oblivious protagonist. I love this ship for the same reasons as Asta x Noelle. I won't repeat what I said before, so read the reasoning for Asta x Noelle. I love these two as well!

Grey x Gauche

I love the reasoning for Grey loving Gauche. I totally see Gauche being as protective of Grey as he is with Marie. Grey might help Gauche loosen up a bit with Marie. These two are just really cute, ok.

I can't think of any more ships, but yeah. Those are my favourite black clover characters and my favourite ships.

[shishi-tls]

Kanroji Mitsuri’s Secrecy

I’M DONE WITH THIS, FINALLY, BANZAI.

Okay, here’s my surprise (and Christmas present) for everyone. This is chapter 3 of the second novel of Kimetsu no Yaiba (Kataha no Chō). Each chapter’s the story of one character, so it’s not like you missed part 1 and 2 of Mitsuri’s story.

I apologize it took double the time I thought it would take me, I honestly thought about giving up many times ohohoho. But hey, here you have it.

This is a mid-quality translation, I do believe it’s readable, but there’re some parts I didn’t give too much thought and left them as short or simple sentences. I tried, okay? 

This is a fantranslation, there could be mistranslations. Read at your own risk.

Also, typos, grammatical errors, whatever there is, just leave a relpy and I’ll try to fix it as soon as possible. 

 Last thing: if you want to put this up on another website or translate it to another language you’re free to do so, BUT LET ME KNOW, OK?

One Winged Butterfly

Chapter 3: Kanroji Mitsuri’s Secrecy

1.-

The first time I met her I thought ‘wow, such a pretty girl’. 

Pure white skin and clear violet eyes; stunningly beautiful and delicate; kind and doesn’t discriminate anyone. 

But, can create things like poison to kill Demons. 

Strong and intelligent, cute, brave… a lovely girl.

I would be very happy if we could be friends. We are both girls, so there should be a lot of things we could talk about…

That’s why, when I heard about it, my head went blank and couldn’t think about anything.

“Kochō-sama’s parents were killed right before her eyes, and on top of that her sister  Kanae-sama too… dying in such a way…”

Ah….

I didn’t know.

Shinobu-chan. I didn’t know.

“Well you see, I joined the Demon Slayer Corps to find a gentleman who would marry me for life. For a girl, it’s actually better someone who’s stronger than themselves, no? We want to be protected. Hey, Shinobu-chan, don’t you think so?”

If I’d known, I’d never said that.

Such a frivolous reason.

If I had known Shinobu-chan’s past, I wouldn’t have been able to say it.

Ah, how stupid of me. 

When I told her that, how did she feel?

She was a little startled, but then she answered with the smiling face she always has.

‘I see… Who knows. I’m sure Kanroji-san will find someone wonderful’.

It must have been really unpleasant and annoying, right? 

Did she think she didn’t want to be together with such a simpleton?

Hey, Shinobu-chan…

I’m.

You see, I…

2.-

“Kanroji-san’s acting weird?”

Kochō Shinobu tilted her head to the side at her coworker who came so suddenly. 

They’re currently inside her office at the Butterfly Estate, where she –as the Insect Pillar– lives. This is a place where poison effective against Demons is developed and Slayers are treated or nursed after being wounded in battle. Therefore, most visitors are wounded people. 

However, her coworker Iguro Obanai came here without a single scratch and as soon as they met, he started to talk anxiously about the Love Pillar, Kanroji Mitsuri, with a serious face. 

“In what way is she acting weird?”

“Everything, she’s weird all around. You haven’t noticed?”

Iguro makes that question and looks at her as if accusing her for something.

As some sort of signal, the snake wrapped around Iguro’s neck sticks out its long tongue. It’s Kaburamaru, the Snake Pillar’s beloved snake.

“Hmm, well…”

Shinobu with the tip of her index finger softly traces around her upper lip. She tries to remember Kanroji’s behavior in the last Pillar meeting, however…

“Nothing in particular”.

“Just where do you have your eyes attached to?” Are those stupidly big eyes of yours blind? Or maybe just decoratives?”

After some nagging, Iguro made a big sigh. 

Shinobu stopped herself from speaking her thoughts out loud ‘unlike you, I don’t exchange letters with her frequently’ and just smiled and apologized.

“Oh my, I’m very sorry”.

Even though it’s daytime and Demons can’t move around, each Pillar should be very busy as they shoulder a lot of heavy responsibilities. However, he pushed all of those aside and came here, so he isn’t doing this just for show or on a whim. Despite his appearance, Iguro cares about his colleagues more than others. 

“It’s fine if they’re things you saw from your own scope, so could you please tell me what’s so strange about Kanroji-san?”

Once Shinobu asked again, Iguro nodded with an obedient look. 

And then…

“Just fifty”.

“Yes?”

“Normally, she would eat a hundred of those dango sticks, but she only had fifty. You hear me? Just fifty. That Kanroji. Her favorite dangos.”

“……”

Being stared fixedly by his bloodshot eyes right in front of her, Shinobu unconsciously stepped back. Contrary to her, Iguro leaned forward. 

“Moreover, she replies coldly to my letters. Her letters are awfully plain and seem to be written to a stranger. Why? It’s weird. Anything and everything is weird.”

“Aoi, Iguro-san’s already leaving.”

Shinobu turned her back to Iguro, walked to the room’s door and said “Iguro-san, the exit is over there.”

“It’s not just that”.

Despite Shinobu’s sarcasm, Iguro kept talking. 

“In the last Pillar meeting, Kanroji didn’t even try to look at the eyes of any Pillar. And not only the Pillars’, Oyakata-sama’s too.”

Shinobu turned around with a surprised face.

Every Pillar respects and loves dearly Oyakata-sama –Ubuyashiki Kagaya–  from the bottom of their hearts. Mitsuri’s not the exception, she also cares about Oyakata-sama. As far as Shinobu knows, Mitsuri has never opposed his will and would even put him above everything else. It was certainly strange for someone like her to avert her eyes from Oyakata-sama . 

“And after that, Tokitō picked up a handkerchief she had dropped, but when he tried to talk to her she jumped high enough to reach the roof and ran away.”

“Yes, that seems strange”.

If Mitsuri was herself, her heart would have throbbed and expressed her gratitude honestly by saying ‘thank you, Muichirō-kun’.

“Was it then when you first noticed something strange on her behavior?”

“No, she was already acting weird 12 days before that.”

Shinobu was full of retorts at him answering immediately and with such detail, but that aside, this meant Mitsuri has been like this for nearly half a month. 

By all means, this was worrisome.

“There could be something wrong with her health. I’ll try to ask her indirectly, you think about something too. Got that, Kochō?”

After voicing everything he wanted to say and seeing Shinobu nod, he left the Estate. Shinobu, left alone in the examination room, sat down on the chair. There was no need for him to go all the way to visit her, he could’ve just wrote a letter and sent it with a crow. It’s quite charming that Iguro cares about Mitsuri to that extent, but…

“Good grief. When it comes to Kanroji-san, Iguro-san immediately becomes unreliable.”

Relaxing her body, Shinobu let out a short sigh. It came to her mind the cute face of the only other Pillar of her same gender, Kanroji Mitsuri. 

“Shinobu-chan, Shinobu-chan.”

She’s older than her, but has an innocent smile and becomes attached to others just like a kitty would. Thinking about the face that had crossed her mind, Shinobu gently narrowed her eyes.

Outside the windows, the wind blew against the cherry blossom trees and shaked its branches, now with only leaves left on them.

3.-

A thin and soft katana ran in a moonless night, almost as if it was alive.

“Breath of Love, First Style: Shivers of First Love!”

A greatly bended sword cuts a huge Demon up to pieces at lightning speed, its head rolled over the ground. 

Mitsuri exhaled slightly, for some reason she felt her body heavier than usual and her katana wasn’t cutting as sharp as it should. It was distressing, her head was like in a haze.

“Thank you… thank you very much!”

The couple she had saved was thanking her, the man was bowing his head over and over again while the shivering woman asked her

“Are… are you okay?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well… You’re hurt…”

“Oh, no, I’m not…”

Mitsuri noticed the woman was looking at one of her cheeks and wiped it with the back of her left hand. There was blood on it. Seeing this, she finally understood she’d been injured.

“For our sake… because you protected us…”

“We’re really grateful, thank you so much…”

The woman apologized while crying and the man lowered his head once more. Mitsuri waved both of her hands flustered.

“Ah! Don’t worry about it! This is nothing at all, nothing! I’m sorry for making you frightened. But, I’m happy you’re both okay.”

Mitsuri smiled at them and the man was suddenly moved to tears.

“To tell you the truth, my wife’s actually pregnant.”

“Uh… really? You’re having a baby?”

Surprised, Mitsuri looks at the woman who finally shows a smile. Her cheeks which were wet with tears shyly transformed into a smile.

“Yes, the due date should be in around 3 months.”

Her belly did seem plump.

“I see, congratulations. Take care of your body.”

“We owe you our lives, thank you very much.”

The man says his thanks again and afterwards, the couple cuddled close together and disappeared into the night. 

Mitsuri, while watching them until they were out of sight, lifted her hand to her chest. 

Thump thump, her heart pounded. 

If that Demon’s attack had cut that woman’s belly instead of my cheek…

As soon as she imagined it, she found herself terrified.

That Demon wasn’t weak, but it wasn’t very strong too. If I had been myself, I’d have saved them without getting a single scratch.

(And everything would have ended well, without that pregnant woman making such a face…)

The wet night wind caressed her cheeks. Mitsuri gently ran her fingers over the wound.

There was almost no pain.

But she couldn’t help but feel like something very important was falling and spilling over from that opened wound.

4.-

“Sigh…”

Finishing her night round and exposed to the brilliant sunlight, Mitsuri dragged her heavy body through the city. 

She went in her favorite restaurant and ordered some tempura rice bowl, cold soba with dipping sauce, grilled fish with rice and miso soup.

It seemed quite a lot to eat as a breakfast, but for Mitsuri this amount was like a tenth of what she would usually eat. 

Shortly thereafter, tea was brought to her and she sipped it absentmindedly. 

She gave a sigh again. 

Since that time she became eager in disciplining herself and made sure to not have any superficial feelings towards anyone.

In short, she sealed away her love. She’d to give up finding someone who would marry her for life and committed herself to forbid her heart to flutter every day. 

However, it seemed like someone was mocking her because things that would make her heart flutter happened one after another. 

(I wonder why… it’s only at times like this… )

The timing was so bad that brought Misturi to the verge of tears. The last Pillar meeting was specially the worst. 

That day she and the Flame Pillar, Rengoku Kyōjurō, ended up at the same place by looking for a shelter from the rain and he told her “You’re going to catch a cold! Put this on, Kanroji!!”, covering her with his haori. She also saw an unexpected side of the Rock Pillar, Himejima Gyōmei, saying “Namu. Cats are cute…” while carrying in his arms a kitten. Then, she met by accident with the Wind Pillar, Shinazugawa Sanemi, just when he was feeding a stray puppy. On top of that, she spotted the Water Pillar, Tomioka Giyū, taking a nap in the open corridor and waking up with a sudden jerk. Moreover, she tripped but Uzui catched her in his arms before falling to the ground telling her “be careful, don’t go tripping so plainly.” And finally, Iguro inviting her to a newly opened udon shop.

Mitsuri was depressed because she had to suppress her heart from throbbing every time, but she just couldn’t help it. 

… In the end,

“Mitsuri, is something troubling you? If you don’t mind, you can talk to me.”

(I even made Oyakata-sama worry… and when I was leaving, Muichirō tried to tell me something but I just ran away.)

This is the worst.

I got too nervous around Shinobu and couldn’t even look at her face.

(What… am I doing?)

And the final blow: she got hurt while fighting an enemy who wasn’t even part of the Twelve Demon Moons.

Mitsuri dropped her shoulders dejected and restlessly ate her tempura rice bowl brought by the waitress.

(Is it really okay to keep on like this?)

Thinking absentmindedly, she dropped the tempura she had picked with her chopsticks into the bowl. Inside of it there was still more than two thirds of rice left. She should be hungry, but she didn’t feel like eating. In fact, everything she tried to eat was tasteless and felt like chewing sand. She hadn’t felt like this since her first marriage interview was broken off. 

“Kanroji-san, your body shape is the same as other people, but you’ve eight times more muscles than them. In other words, your muscle density is quite high.”

The one who told her this was none other than Shinobu.

“That’s why, you have to eat a lot. People who have more muscles have a higher basal metabolic rate. So please, do at least eat eight times more than a regular human does.”

“But, for a girl… to eat that much, um… won’t people be disgusted? won’t I be disliked?”

“You don’t have to forcibly stick with someone who would stop you from taking the nourishment you need. You should just do this to that kind of people.”

Saying that and keeping that lovely smile of hers, she made as though she was hitting someone with her fists.

“Right?”

“Geez, Shinobu-chan…”

Mitsuri had no idea how much those words and smile had saved her.

A few days after this exchange with Shinobu, Mitsuri went with Iguro to have some lunch. She timidly ordered what she wanted to eat. Iguro, who ate the least among the pillars, only asked for tea and something small to eat. In spite of Mitsuri’s fears, Iguro did not reproach Mitsuri for her gluttony, on the contrary, he insisted her ‘eat this too’ and ordered more food.

He was also the one who casually gave her those long striped socks without asking for anything in return when she was too embarrassed to use her uniform, which showed too much skin, and wasn’t able to burn it right in front of the tailor like Shinobu had done.

“Kanroji, so you were here after all.”

Mitsuri lifted her head in surprise at the sound of a familiar voice and saw the very face of the one she was thinking about just now.

She was taken aback by this.

“I, Iguro-san!? Why’re you here!?”

“I was looking for you to talk about something.”

As if it was the most natural thing to do, Iguro took the seat in front of Mitsuri and, for some reason, frowned deeply.

“Kanroji, what happened? That…”

“Uh?”, without thinking, she looked down at her rice bowl flustered. 

“Did I drop some rice?”

Or was she eating sloppily? Oh no, did she have food on her face?

Mitsuri was getting really nervous, however Iguro had questioned her because of something entirely different.

His next words were colder than ice.

“Why is there a wound on your cheek?”

“Ah! This? This is from yesterday’s night round… I got careless and…”

As soon as she replied in a flurry, Iguro’s eyes became immediately slanted. 

Iguro was rather a cool-headed coworker, but seeing him for the first time making such a grim face made her break out in a cold sweat.

(He’s angry. He must be disappointed with me getting injured when I wasn’t even fighting one of the Twelve Moons. What should I do? Is he fed up with me?)

While Mitsuri was earnestly trying to make herself as small as possible, Iguro suddenly jumped to his feet.

“Where is it?”

“Uwaa!”

Mitsuri could only shrug her shoulders as a reflex.

“Where’s that trash.”

“Eh?”

“The trash that ruined your rosy cheeks.”

“Eh…ah, well…”

Mitsuri was about to answer him she had already beaten it, but Iguro interrupted her groaning with deep hatred. 

“That trash deserves certain death. I’ll go now and cut him into small pieces.”

Mitsuri stopped him in a hurry as he was already trying to leave the shop.

“W, Wait, Iguro-san! It’s already gone. Umm… You see, I cut its neck that same night… so…”

“…”

Finally coming to his senses, Iguro stopped his bloodlust and went back to sit in front of Mitsuri again. Then, he covered his forehead with a hand and apologized.

“Sorry.”

And muttered a few words very embarrassed.

“Me of all people…losing my mind in anger.”

“…Iguro-san.”

(So, you were not angry with me…)

On the contrary, he was really worried about her.

She felt her heart slowly getting warmer.

Come to think of it, Iguro has been kind to her ever since she joined the Corps, he would help her whenever she was troubled with something. He, who would awkwardly address her

—Kanroji.

“There’s something troubling you, no?”

“Eh?…”

“If you’re okay with me, I’d like you to tell me.”

“Iguro-san…”

“I want to help you, Kanroji.”

“!”

Her chest tightened and her heart made a loud noise at his sincere voice and serious gaze, but at that instant, Shinobu’s face came to her mind.

“…!! I can’t!”

“Kanroji?”

Mitsuri jumped to her feet and Iguro looked up at her dumbfounded. She couldn’t look at him in the eyes.

“I, I just remembered I have some stuff to do! Sorry. I’m leaving, okay?

Coming up somehow with those words, she thrust her money at the shopkeeper and almost tripped rushing out the shop.

(I’m sorry, Iguro-san! I’m so sorry.)

Even though you are worried about me.

Even though you want to help me.

But, that will only make my heart leap for him…

If that happened, instead of getting help, I would just get stuck in an awful situation. I can’t always rely on him. 

She left the shop as if she was running away from it. 

Several buildings away, she finally calmed down.

(This is something I have to do alone. I can’t rely on Iguro-san forever.)

She slapped her cheeks with both hands with energy.

However, the haze in her head wasn’t cleared in the least.

And then, a few days later— 

“Haaaah….”

Mitsuri’s condition, instead of improving, only got worse day by day. It felt like she was extremely suffocated and her body was as heavy as lead. Maybe this was the reason behind not being able to use the Breath of Love properly. It was clear it has weakened. 

(I really wonder what’s wrong with me…)

Can I keep on as a Pillar like this?

In the end, I’ve only been feeling miserable and got a message from Shinobu to boot.

Please, come to the Butterfly Estate whenever it suits you.

Mitsuri would normally be happy with this kind of invitation, but this time it only troubled her even more.

(What would Shinobu-chan want from me?)

It’ll be too awkward to see her now… but I can't’ ignore her. 

Just when she had started to walk heavily towards the Butterfly Estate, she heard an “ah!” coming from behind her. 

“The Demon hunter… sis*?”  (nee-chan*)

She turned back at the perplexed voice.

“Yeah, I thought so! It’s sis!”

Some time ago, Mitsuri had saved a boy and his mother from a Demon. Today that boy was standing in front of her, with a smile in his tanned face.

“I’m glad. I’ve been looking you forever, sis.”

“Me?”

Mitsuri blinked her eyes.

“What is it? Some advice? Is something troubling you?”

“…”

Suddenly, the boy’s behaviour changed and became aware of his surroundings. Lowering his voice he told her:

“Actually, the restaurant where my mom works is close by.”

It seems he doesn’t want her mother to know about whatever he wants to tell me.

“Mom will get mad if she hears this.”

A mere child just talked as if he were a grown up man.

“Oh my….”

Holding back a laugh, Mitsuri decided to take him to her favorite teahouse which was some distance away from there.

Sitting right outside the teahouse, the boy happily stuffed his mouth with dangos.

“Have you been well? You’re all grown up! You’re a lot taller now.”

“I’m like 15cm taller since that time.”

“15cm. Boys surely grow up fast.”

Mitsuri smiled with a wide grin. She had a younger brother around the same age as this boy and couldn’t help but see him in this child. 

“So? What did you want to talk with me?”

The boy gulped down the dangos and slowly opened his mouth.

“Y’know, I want to be a carpenter.”

“Oh, that’s good. Are you good at making things?”

“Yeah, kind of. My deceased dad was a carpenter.”

“Oh…”

She wasn’t sure how to reply.

However, the boy was attentive to her and kept talking.

“It’s okay, my dad died 3 years ago already.”

He fixed his deep dark eyes on the sky.

“He got swept away by the river and drowned when he was building a bridge. He was a skillful carpenter, but he was a poor swimmer.”

“So that’s what happened…”

Mitsuri lightly bit her lower lip and looked at the boy’s tanned face.

Her mind strongly recalled his mother when she saved both, holding his son with large tears running down her face. Even now she remembered vividly how she kowtowed, bowing her head over and over again.

“Thank you so much for saving my son. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Now that she’d heard what had happened to the father, that memory became a heartrending one. 

“Because of that accident my mom won’t let me become a carpenter, it makes her remember about father. She says she wants me to become an apprentice and live in a haberdashery or kimono shop… but, I don’t want to become one of those. I want to be a carpenter.”

The boy tightened his grip of his hand and continued.

“I’m keeping it a secret from mom, I’m planning to become an apprentice of a boss who was an acquaintance of my father’s. Everything’s been arranged.”

“… Why are you telling this to me?”

Mitsuri asked him confused. They boy hesitated at first but then answered brusquely.

“‘Cuz, sis, you were super cool when you saved me and mom.”

“Eh…”

She was extremely puzzled. At that time, she had just joined the Corps and was a lower ranked Slayer who only had her strength to boast, but wasn’t competent at all. She got cut all over and it took her a lot of time to chop off the Demon’s head. Anyways, she had been desperate. She hadn’t been in a state in which she should receive some flattery or even be called cool.

“But, y’know, I was really weak then! Like, I could only reach a lame victory and… I wasn’t cool in the sligh-”

“You were cool!!”

The boy shouted, cutting off her words.

“You fought with everything you got, for us, for complete strangers. Despite being a woman, you went so far as getting all battered… sis, you were cooler than anyone.”

The boy’s honest words pierced her heart.

Maybe because of his excitement, the boy’s earlobes were turning red as the sunset.

“Seeing you like that it made me think. I want to be like that too, doing what I really I want and be of help to others. I don’t want to give up or regret anything. That’s why, it doesn’t matter how much my mom cries for it, I’m going to become a carpenter and show everyone I can make a bridge that surpasses my father’s.”

“…”

“I was looking for you forever because I wanted to tell only sis about this. Okay then, thanks for the dangos.”

Saying that, they boy ran off. There wasn’t even time to call him out.

His back grew smaller and smaller until he dissapeared in the crowd. 

“…”

Mitsuri stared in a daze at the spot she last saw him…

5.-

“Kanroji-sama, thank you for visiting us. Shinobu-sama’s waiting for you.”

After arriving at the Butterfly Estate, Kanzaki Aoi guided her to the training area with a troubled face. Mitsuri tilted her head while trembling.

(Why at the training area?)

Just as the name implies, that place is a dojo where injured soldiers go through a training regiment to boost their recovery process and also where Shinobu trains herself and her Tsuguko. 

Mitsuri had visited the Butterly Estate before, but this was the first time she was called to the training grounds.

With a worried face, Aoi left her alone and she timidly opened the sliding door to the dojo.

“Umm… Shinobu-chan?”

“Hello, Kanroji-san.”

And there she was, at the center of the vast dojo. She was sitting with two bamboo swords at her side. However, she wasn’t smiling as usual. 

With a frosty look, she grabbed both swords, stood up and tossed one of the swords to Mitsuri.

(…Eh?)

She caught it with her hand reflexively.

Shinobu, still stone-faced asked her.

“Could I ask you for a match?”

Despite making a request, it seemed that Shinobu had no intention of listening to her answer as she readied her bamboo sword and pointed it towards Mitsuri.

“Eh?… Wha- Eh? Shinobu-chan?”

While Mitsuri was confused and not able to understand the situation, Shinobu gave her a sidelong glance and rushed in without making a sound. In the blink of an eye, she closed the distance between them and knocked the sword in Mitsuri’s hands off.

The low pitched sound of the sword hitting the floor resounded in the dojo.

“Just now—”

 Shinobu glanced sharply at Mitsuri who stood still and dumbfounded.

“You don’t even have half of your strength. If you were yourself, it wouldn’t have mattered how low your guard was, you’d have dodged that easily.”

“…Ah… Um…”

Shinobu’s voice had a strict tone, almost as if she was reproaching her. Mitsuri became flustered. 

“It looks like you can’t use the Breath of Love properly.”

“Th- that’s… Um…”

What she said was exactly correct and made Mitsuri more and more dispirited. 

Shinobu let out a soundless sigh and lowered her sword. She directed a chilly look to Mitsuri’s body.

“You look pale and your cheeks are hollow. You haven’t been eating enough to keep your muscles healthy, have you?

“!!”

“I’m not strong as a swordswoman, however Kanroji-san’s different. What makes you an excellent swordswoman is your talent to use a longsword as it pleases you without worries, your incredible flexibility, the strength you got by birth and, above everything else, your overwhelming honesty. 

Mitsuri fell completely silent.

“Kanroji-san.”

Shinobu addressed her emotionlessly.

“Why are you trying to make yourself weaker?”

Her heart jumped from the shock. 

She fearfully looked at Shinobu, who was already looking back at her. 

Mitsuri gulped, but the sound of it felt like another person had done it. 

If she was going to talk, now was the moment. 

But— 

(No… I can’t say it…. I just can’t.)

If she said it frankly, it would just hurt Shinobu. She would make her remember unpleasant and sad things— 

No, wrong. In truth, she was scared of saying it. Mitsuri was deceiving herself by thinking it was all for Shinobu’s sake, when it actually was for her own. She was too afraid of being hated by her precious friend if she confessed, of destroying their friendship and losing a friend.

Mitsuri casted her eyes downwards to avoid Shinobu’s eyes and squeezed her hands. 

(What should I do… Something else, I could tell her another rea-)

At the instant she thought that, a voice sounded in her ears.

— You were cool!!

Ah… 

Mitsuri lifted her head energetically. 

That boy told her she was cooler than anyone when she was still a novice. She had felt a huge relief and was happy they were alive. 

She’d thought she finally found a place where it was fine to stay, aside from her family.

Thank you.

It was actually Mitsuri the one who wanted to say those words. 

(I can’t….I mustn’t tell lies.)

If I do it, I won’t be able to stay here anymore.

I won’t be able to face Shinobu ever again.

(I have to tell her properly… my feelings.)

She shut her eyes tightly, then opened them and looked directly at Shinobu’s eyes.

“—Shinobu-chan, I…”

Just by saying those few words, her mouth went dry. She knew she was speaking in a shrill voice. 

“I… heard it…. from the Kakushi….about Shinobu-chan.”

“….”

Shinobu’d been watching her, still with a cold expression. Even now, there couldn’t be seen any change in her emotions. 

If she really had complete control of her emotions, just how much training did she go through to reach that?

A girl whose parents were slaughtered by Demons right before her eyes and whose beloved sister was snatched away too. 

The pain and sorrow almost made Mitsuri’s heart falter, but she eagerly fought them back.

“… I, was embarrassed at my reason to join the Corps… to find someone special and love… I felt sorry for Shinobu-chan. I thought I shouldn’t be like this, I needed to pull myself together… But,”

Sealing away her love made her surprisingly weak. The connection between her heart and the Breath of Love was deeper than she’d thought. 

“I finally got it now. I can’t do that. I have to become stronger being myself. If not, I won’t be able to protect anyone.”

She became afraid of being hated by those precious to her and as a result she neglected those she was supposed to protect. She unreasonably weakened the power and strength given to her by birth and tried to live in falsehood. All when she’d supposedly decided to live somewhere where lies were not needed and use this power granted by her parents to save as many people as she could… 

“This is me! This is Kanroji Mitsuri!! My heart leaps for many kinds of people, I eat a lot and I’m really strong! … But… I, I—”

“…..”

“Shinobu-chan… I really love you, okay?”

Saying that and before she could close her mouth, Shinobu’s pure white throat started to move slightly.

“Aside from me, there’re a lot of members in the Corps who had their parents snatched away from them by Demons.”

Mitsuri’s heart throbbed in pain at her calm voice.

“Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho too. Their families were killed by Demons and had nowhere else to go, so they live here with me. 

Mitsuri was hanging her head again, but a soft voice reached her hears.

“However, me and those girls would never be jealous of your situation or loath you because of your reasons for joining the Corps. But, well, I was surprised at first when I heard it.”

“Eh?…”

Mitsuri heard a giggle slip out in the last sentence, she lifted her head in surprise and saw Shinobu with a smile playing on her lips. Their eyes met. 

With Shinobu’s cold expression gone, Mitsuri was warmly wrapped in with her usual gentle smile. 

“Everyone here harbors hatred and grief, and despite licking each other’s wound, we can’t move forward. For us, Kanroji-san’s cheerfulness and smile is what always saves us.”

“Shinobu… chan…”

In Shinobu’s eyes, she could see herself ready to burst into tears.

Her deep violet eyes looked the same as the first time they met, they were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“So, please, don’t do things like lying to yourself. I really like you as you are.”

Unable to endure it, she clinged to Shinobu who was way smaller than herself. Lukewarm tears were shedded one after another. 

“Shinobu-chanShinobu-chanShinobu-chan!!!”

“I’m sorry for testing you like that.”

“No, it’s fine! Really fine… I was being stupid.”

Still clinging to her Mitsuri shook her head, tickling Shinobu and making her laugh. 

“Please, from now on you have to eat properly, okay?”

“Yeah, I will! I’ll eat a lot. And get stronger!”

“Iguro-san was worried too.”

And added a few more words in a whisper.

‘To the point of being a little overprotective.’

“Yeah, I’ll apologize to him too. And to Muichirō-kun… 

Wahhhh.

Mitsuri cried like a child and Shinobu softly patted her back with her small hand, in the same way one would do it to a baby. 

Then, she murmured.

“—To tell you the truth, I was always jealous. Jealous of your constitution.”

“Eh?”

“If I too had muscles like you, if I was taller… Then…”

“Shinobu… chan?”

“I said too much, please forget it.”

She muttered in her arms.

What was she going to say after ‘then’?

Mitsuri felt like the words left unsaid were full of feelings strong enough to be heartbreaking, feelings which would rather burn down everything.

The only swordsman who can’t cut off a Demon’s head among all the Pillars. 

The body she was holding now felt so fleeting, or rather it was like a child’s, that it made her cry loudly once more.

She promised herself again.

That she’d live without making lies.

That she’d kill as many Demons as possible.

And she’d protect as many smiles and happiness as she could.

So that she can live proudly with her cherished friends in this precious place—. 

6.-

“Kanroji-san, why did you join the Demon Slayer Corps?”

“Uh? Me?”

In the corridor of Tecchikawahara’s mansion, Kamado Tanjirō asked her a question.

This boy, who joined the Corps to turn her sister back to a human, had fiery red eyes. They were really pretty.

He was looking at her straight into her eyes, it almost made her shrink back.

“It’s kinda embarrassing… Oh, what should I do. You wanna hear?”

Mitsuri fidgeted.

Nezuko, who through her Demon Blood Arts had shrunk her boy to the size of a child, looked up at her curiously. Mitsuri gently brushed her black hair. 

“You see…”

— Kanroji Mitsuri continued her story with a smile in her face.

FIN

TL:SoMeBoDY kILL ME

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

Kataang: An In Depth Analysis

Hello again! I apologise for the inactivity. It’s been a busy month as far as school goes for me, so let’s just say I’m a lot busier solving chem equations and working on stuff for AP art. Don’t get me wrong though! These analysis and essay format posts are my favorite and I wish I could do them more often! Seriously, it’s the only thing that keeps me wanting to write! I’ve also decided that I’m going to make these little intro paragraphs separate to the actual essay, because while I’m at this, why not kill two birds with one stone and practice writing essays for my actual AP Lang. class? I mean I’m obviously not gonna turn them in or show them to my teacher, (unless this gets 1000 notes or more, in which case  I’ll show this to her ;)) but this is a good way for me to work on formatting a thesis and developing arguments, all while doing and talking about something I love! Speaking of which, let’s dive right on into today’s topic; the much debated, and thoroughly analyzed ship: Kataang. (Buckle your seatbelts hotmen, because this is gonna be one hell of a sky bison ride) I got inspired by a creator on Tik Tok that I follow, Amanda Castrillo, to write this. Her username is @theamanda2d and I highly recommend you go check her out and give her a follow. A lot of the arguments in this are my own, but I also sourced a lot of information and arguments for Kataang from her series “a case for Kataang”, which I highly recommend you go watch. I’ll insert her quotes directly so you know exactly where her points are coming from as well as mention where I elaborated on a point she made but didn’t directly quote her. I’ll also be sourcing a lot of information from the show and including exact episodes and scenes that support my case. So without further ado, here is my *unofficial* case for Kataang.

     In our lives, there’s usually one point at which most of us make a choice. That choice is to love someone. Yes, you heard me right. You make the choice to love someone. Of course, the feeling that most people know as love, but is really just sexual or romantic desires, tends to be confused with real love. Authentic love that comes from the choice to love someone. This kind of love persists through even through the darkest times. This kind of love truly does burn brightest in the dark. 

 It stems from a strong base of mutual understanding and friendship first, and doesn’t rely on a spark of passion to keep burning although it can fuel the flame that already burns strongly. There are many great examples of this kind of love, both in our own world and daily lives, but also in literature. One of the greatest examples of this, is the relationship explored between the fictional characters Aang and Katara from Avatar: the Last Airbender. (Oh, what? You don’t think Avatar is a legitimate form of literature? Pity, you must not have read my previous posts or even watched the show at all, because it IS.)

     From the time I first watched the show, I was rooting for them to end up together. Right off the bat, Aang and Katara have this instant connection. Within the first episode, they already become friends, and not only that, they act as if they’ve been friends for years, almost like they were meant to meet each other. Aang finally getting together with Katara just feels right, but there’s more to their relationship than the feelings that Katara and Aang both experience and the feelings that we the audience feel seeing them together. Throughout the series we see them both make the choice to love each other, not only as lovers, but as friends too. Their relationship thrives, and we’re able to see them both grow as people and better themselves because of each other.

Firstly I want to address the counterargument that many people bring up and that is that Kataang, in and of itself, is one sided. Fans (often Zutara shippers. More in depth analysis on why this ship DOESN’T work out realistically to come) will argue that Kataang is forced and one sided, and that Katara doesn’t share Aang’s feelings. Although I can see where this is coming from from a first time viewer’s perspective, this argument can be extinguished by looking deeper at Katara’s actions and intentions towards Aang. We see them bond as friends very early on in the series, but the earliest hint at a romantic relationship actually shows up in season one episode four, when they go to Kiyoshi Island. Katara acts snarky and jealous when Aang gathers quite a fan club of little girls. 

Nevertheless, when this fan club fails to stick around for Aang’s encounter with the unagi, Katara’s the one that’s there making sure he’s okay. (S1, Episode 4, The Warriors of Kiyoshi) This is ultimately foreshadowing for their relationship as a whole. Although his role as Avatar lands him many friends, and in this case fans, the only person that truly stays with him the whole time is Katara. She’s the one who shows up and has his best interests at heart. Most of her intentions are in fact platonic in this episode, but the hint of romance comes out when we see that Katara doesn’t like the idea of Aang with another girl.

     After half way through season one, specifically the Fortune Teller episode, we do see that Katara does in fact have feelings for Aang, albeit complex ones. In this episode we see her pester Aunt Wu for information about her future husband and she’s informed that he’s a very powerful bender. She doesn’t consider Aang until Sokka mentions that it freaks him out how powerful of a bender Aang is while Aang protects and saves the village from it’s demise by an erupting volcano. Her hopes were set high on a muscley, extremely strong looking bender, and I’d like to imagine that before her realization, Katara was probably picturing someone more like Haru or even post redemption Zuko as her future husband. For the first time, that image is replaced by Aang, and she doesn’t mind it. (S1, Episode 14, The Fortune Teller) We see these new found feelings develop further in the Secret Tunnel episode, when Katara is finally forced to confront the romantic feelings that she’s pushed down while trying to sort them out. At this moment, Katara finally acknowledges her romantic feelings and attraction to Aang. (S2, Episode 2, The Cave of Two Lovers) The creators intentionally showed us the story of the two lovers for a reason. “Avatar is a very smart show,” says Amada Castrillo, Avatar fanatic and creator of the Tik Tok and youtube series “A Case for Kataang,” “and we’re never told or shown anything for no reason...A war was keeping them apart maybe not physically, but romantically.”

     Later in the series during the season finale of season two we see her absolutely distraught when Aang nearly dies and she does everything in her power to save him. We see her almost break. Only when he wakes up does she feel better, and start to be happier again. She doesn’t care about anything else but making him feel better, and even when he does wake up, she still focuses mainly on healing him. Here we see Katara make the choice to love Aang both in sickness and in health. (S2, Episode 18, The Guru/The Crossroads of Destiny and S3, Episode 1, The Awakening) She of course would have done this for any member of team avatar, but the way in which she treats Aang when he’s nearly taken away from her points to the extreme love and affection that she carries for him every day. This happens multiple other times throughout the series, with many of the occurrences being in book three. When Zuko joins the Gaang, she flat out tells Zuko that if he were to hurt Aang, (not Sokka, not her, not Toph, but Aang specifically) she would personally see to his demise. (S3, Episode 11, The Western Air Temple, 23:30) (Some Points taken from, but not directly quoted from Amanda Castrillo’s “A case For Kataang Part Nine: Text and Subtext”) This is why the assumption that Kataang is one sided can be proven wrong.

     Two other arguments stem from the previous argument, one being that Aang is a simp, and/or that Katara is a trophy. First of all, the later argument is easily disproved by the fact that Katara is not a prize to be won. “Katara is, and was never a prize for Aang,” says Castrillo, “And to say that she was, grossly mischaracterizes and undermines her as a character.” (Amanda Castrillo, (@theamanda2d) “A Case for Kataang: Chapter 2, Katara the trophy) Katara is shown multiple times throughout the series being able to speak up and defend herself without Aang’s, or anyone else’s help. 

Aang, although viewed as a simp, is not. Yes he respects Katara, and all other women for that matter, but he doesn’t fawn over her. He allows her to defend and take care of herself. The definition of the word “simp” is the abbreviated term “simpleton”, meaning “a silly or foolish person.” Although Aang is silly at some points, he’s also not foolish. He’s a smart and capable individual that many fans fail to recognise as legitimate because of his innocence and softness. So no. Aang isn’t a simp that bases his entire self worth on his status with Katara.

     Another point that must be acknowledged is the fact that Aang and Katara are actually complementary characters. Although many people would bring up the argument that Air and Water aren’t opposite elements, the type of bender they are doesn’t necessarily tend to point to the exact type of person they are. The creators aren’t dumb, and the characters in this franchise are so well developed, that there are many sub personalities in each type of bending, and all of them can be analyzed further than the type of element they bend. Judging a character solely by the element they can bend is like judging a person on the color of their skin or a book by it’s cover, and when diving deep into each of their personalities, we can see that their personalities are actually complementary. Katara is high strung and anxious while Aang is usually calm and collected. Aang is very good at regulating his emotions while Katara is not. This aspect extends further than their personalities as well. Katara grew up in a very family oriented and close family while Aang only had one parental figure in the form of Gyatzo and occasionally a few friends. Katara is also more grounded and a home body while if he could, Aang would probably continue to explore whatever corner of the earth that he could. (Some points taken, but not directly quoted from Amanda Castrillo (@theamanda2d), “A Case for Kataang: Chapter 10, Balance”)

     Another thing that I found is that when looking at color theory, Aang’s signature orange toward the end of the series and Katara’s signature blue are actually complementary colors. I’d like to think that as Katara develops and explores her feelings for Aang, Aang’s color palette changes slightly. It goes from being red and yellow in the beginning when Katara didn’t know she had feelings quite yet, to eventually shifting to orange when we see her feelings start to fully become clear. I thought this was a super interesting detail and despite it being a bit far of a stretch, I think it must have been planned. If you consider the time when we see Katara start to develop feelings, it’s about the same time that Aang’s outfit choice shifts to orange. Of course, this piece of evidence is mostly based on my personal observation and knowledge of color theory, but it’s a detail that I personally found super compelling.

     Kataang also works because of the extremely well executed communication and dialogue that happens between them. There are multiple different examples throughout the series and as their character’s develop, we’re able to see a beautifully efficient and respectful form of communication between them. We see Aang clearly express his feelings of anxiety to Katara, and in return, Katara is able to help him and offer advice on what he’s feeling. Katara also is able to confide in Aang in return and oftentimes he’s the one that she’s most comfortable being vulnerable in front of. We see her almost mother Aang alongside Sokka in the first season, but her relationship with him changes and shifts to one where both her and Aang feel comfortable and contribute and receive equal care from each other.

     One issue in particular also comes to mind when talking about this ship, and that is the issue of boundaries. Counter arguments against Kataang often bring up one scene in particular, specifically in the Ember island players episode about halfway through when Katara confronts Aang on the balcony. (S3, episode 15, the Ember Island Players) Episode Aang is understandably upset with the way that he and specifically he and Katara’s relationship is portrayed in the play. He obviously has feelings for her and at that point we know that Katara also has feelings from a few episodes prior when they kiss before the invasion. That kiss was mutual, and she kissed him back, meaning that from that point on, both of their feelings towards each other are very clear. The night of the play on the balcony, Aang does cross a boundary that had been established. The kiss before the invasion made sense, and Katara didn’t do anything to stop him from doing it, and Aang had her consent in this case. Aang’s kiss on the balcony was a mistake, and in this case it was uncalled for, but many people misread Katara’s feelings of confusion. When Katara mentions being confused, she’s not saying she’s confused about her feelings for Aang. Since season one, we’ve seen her show multiple forms of affection towards Aang, and not only that, she was usually the one initiating the many hugs, cheek kisses, etc. 

She’s not confused about how she feels about Aang. She’s confused about the timing and if it’s a good idea or not. (Some points taken from, but not directly quoted from, Amanda Castrillo (@theamanda2d) “A Case for Kataang Part 7: The Camelephant in the room)

     Regarding the consent for the kiss, yes. That was Aang’s mistake. He’s human, and he did mess up there. But his intentions weren’t meant to harm anyone. He, like so many of us watching at home, read Katara’s confusion to be about him, and wanted to see what she really felt. Afterwards, he knows he messed up, and feels bad about it. “...[Aang’s] very self aware. He knows how he feels about Katara, and he’s said it multiple times...Aang is human. He f***s up. He says the wrong thing. He makes mistakes. And he was just as confused as Katara at this moment.” (Amanda Castrillo, (@theamanda2d) “A Case for Kataang Part Seven: The Camelephant in the room)

     Lasty, I want to acknowledge the visual and audio parallels portrayed in the show and how they can effectively work towards supporting Kataang. If you observe the angles at which characters are shown as well as the framing, it visually sets up and can represent how two characters feel about one another. First let’s consider the framing of a scene from the very first episode after Katara breaks Aang out from the ice. Aang is lying down and katara is directly positioned above him. When he wakes up from being trapped in an iceberg for 100 years, her face is the first that he sees. 

This positioning and framing is shown multiple more times throughout the series, establishing their strong connection. So is this one:

(For a better visual reference please see Amanda Castrillo’s video “A Case for Kataang Part Four: Parallels) “Its built up and set up for us time and time again. Their interactions aren’t framed like that for no reason. Scene framing matters.” (Amanda Castrillo, “A case for Kataang Part Four: Parallels.”

There’s also the fact of the score and what specific music points to what character or what mood the creators were trying to enforce with the music. Avatar’s score is genius and every song and note was hand crafted to set the tone for each scene and help explain what’s happening. (This is one of the many reasons Avatar would translate well to be a musical or even a ballet. Post/informal rant on this later to come.) There are many great examples, like how Azula is represented by a clash of chords, (To quote my previous post: “I love how Azula is just represented by a pair of clashing chords and when you hear it you know that she’s about to f*** s*** up.”) or that Aang has a lively flute melody that plays when he gets really happy/excited, but perhaps the best example of the use of music in the franchise is the use of the “Avatar’s Love Theme.” It’s my personal favorite song from the show, and it’s used extremely effectively and efficiently throughout the show to provide a very specific and recognisable feeling: romantic love. When you hear it play, Aang is ALWAYS with Katara. Go back and listen to the times where it plays, and it’s always when he and Katara share a special moment together. We only hear part of the melody for the majority of the series, but in the final episode, right towards the end when Aang and Katara are left alone on the balcony looking above the city by themselves, we hear it play again, and this time, we hear all of it. The kiss between them also happens right at the crescendo and peak of the music, emphasizing and establishing that Aang and Katara are officially canon. The music plays a huge part in this story, and all musical elements as well as visual point to Aang and Katara being a team, and not just that, but a romantic couple.

In conclusion, Aang and Katara are a couple that was meant to happen. Throughout the series, their love is shown through their undeniable chemistry, complementary characters and personality, and the visual and musical elements set up for us within the show. Aang and Katara love eachother very much, and although their feelings were often being confused by looming threats to their lives or tainted by the war they were both fighting, in the end they’re able to fully and completely allow themselves to love each other. Despite their romantic love, they are ultimately friends before they are lovers, and don’t rely on a spark of passion to be able to keep their love for one another burning. They love each other wholly and in so many different ways, and that my friends, is why Kataang works and will always work.

[terresdebrume]

The Witcher - Favorite Reads Masterpost

So, the previous one was getting really super long and Tumblr refused to save the latest update three times, which I’m taking to mean I’ve reached some kind of length limit. In view of that, and with a poke to @nyliekeo​ who asked to be tagged, here’s the second volume of my Witcher fic-reading adventures!

(Pretty much all Geraskier, because I’m only a multishipper in the sense that I have many ships across many fandoms.)

Volume 1

Last updated: April 10th, 2020.

Non geraskier fic

Her Current Is Pulling You Closer - TheMarvellousMadMadamMim

Specs: 1 900 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Eist/Calanthe - Swimming, shameless flirting

Summary: After nearly three years of marriage, Eist Tuirseach realizes there are still things to learn about his wife.

Becoming Water - Orockthro

Specs: 3 456 words - Mature - Trans woman!Geralt, curses, happy ending

Summary:  When Geralt was a child his mother kissed his forehead, wove flowers in his hair, and let him dance around the campsite they shared with the other druids. He loved dancing, the way his body moved and flowed; he was like water.

And then she left him in the road, spilled water on his feet, and a faint trail of dust where she and the cart were no longer. And a man came and took Geralt and made him into something new.

“Were you short? Waifish? Did those witcher mutagens turn you into, you know, the hulking sexy man that you are? At least they gave you such male perfection, what with the stubble and the jaw and the--”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

(Or, Geralt is cursed with a female body during their travels. Only it's not so much a curse as a gift she didn't know she so desperately desired until now.)

of cockroaches and men - Potrix

Specs: 1 442 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Yennefer & Jaskier, Getting to know each other, BAMF Jaskier

Summary: As if being stuck waiting for her supplier in this sorry excuse for a town full of narrow-minded, superstitious simpletons isn't already frustrating enough, the first familiar face Yennefer spots when she walks into the grubby tavern is that of her least favourite bard.

Or, alternatively; sometimes you misjudge people, but there's nothing some badassery and booze won't fix.

all cooped up - alittlebitmaybe

Specs: 4 205 words - Mature - Polyamory, Pandemic 2020, Non-explicit sex, instigator Yen

Summary: Geralt's old university roommate, Jaskier, needs a place to ride out the pandemic. Geralt and Yennefer conveniently have a couch and Geralt, inconveniently, has a crush.

Cover it over and write it out - TheArcheologist

Specs: 3 214 words - Mature - Dyslexia, implied child abuse, Dandelion is a noble

Summary: There is something Geralt has noticed, after traveling so long with Jaskier. It is nothing major, nothing world ending or even warranting bringing up, but it is there, nonetheless, a funny little habit he can’t unsee.

“You’re better at this stuff than me, Geralt, you read it.”

Geraskier fics

pride - Besully (Briar_Elwood)

Specs: 737 words - Teen & Up - Trans Jaskier

Summary: Geraskier Week Dealer's Choice

He only manages to get the shirt untucked from the bard’s trousers when Jaskier’s smile disappears, and he scrambles backwards, holding the edges of his shirt down.

Do It Again - thisgirlsays22

Specs: 6 771 words - Explicit - Time Loop

Summary: By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

Interlude; The End of All Things - TabbyCat33098

Specs: 3 496 words - General Audiences - Growing Old Together

Summary: Geralt realizes Jaskier is growing old and tries his best to return the rest of Jaskier's life to him. If only Jaskier would cooperate and take it.

//

How much longer will Jaskier be content with weathering the elements and contending with the uncertainty of mercenary work? How long until Jaskier realizes that in devoting himself to crafting a legacy for Geralt, he has forgotten to create a legacy of his own?

After all, he does not have a wife or children, for their nomadic lifestyle is conducive to neither. He has no home to return to between stints with Geralt, whether a sprawling mansion vaunting his wealth or a comfortable cottage replete with souvenirs from his varied exploits. How many experiences has Jaskier sacrificed because some contract or irate nobleman drew them elsewhere? How many untouched fields of snow has Jaskier never seen; how many harvests at Novigrad has he yearned to celebrate from halfway across the Continent—

“You’re staring,” Jaskier points out.

“You wanted to go to the Kovirian coast,” Geralt responds. 

a tapestry of scars - splendidlyimperfect

Specs: 7 688 words - Mature - Modern AU, Birpolar disorder, self harm, references to previous suicide attempt and car accident.

Summary: Jaskier comes into Geralt's life on a sunny afternoon in May - wide smiles and baby blue eyes; breathtaking stories and half-written song lyrics. He's mesmerizing and full of life, and Geralt can't look away. But sunshine doesn't last forever, and when Jaskier disappears, Geralt learns that beautiful things have dark and broken pieces, and even damaged people can help fix them.

Summer Mornings - The UnamazingTrashKing

Specs: 3 241 words - Mature - Fluff

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are sort of a couple. They definitely wake up together and talk about spending the rest of their lives together.

An Incomplete Happiness - BlossomsintheMist

Specs: 22 497 words - Mature - Serious injuries, injuries recovery, unresolved sexual tension, unresolved romantic tension

Summary: Jaskier is traveling with Geralt when a hunt goes badly wrong and Geralt ends up injured.  Geralt soon realizes that the bard can take care of Geralt better than he'd realized, in his own way.

Hide Behind The Mound of Dead Bards - Bones (Doctorbones)

Specs: 17 296 words - Explicit - Temporary character death, Graphic depiction of violence

Summary: Jaskier is really bad at two things: shutting up and staying dead. Luckily, he can do both at the same time...for a while.

faith in transience - unconscious

Specs: 12 532 words - Explicit - Monster of the week, Service top Jaskier, attempted mind control.

Summary:  “I learn stuff about you to enrich my songs, thanks very much.”  Geralt starts.

“Like what?”

Jaskier strums a chord. “Plenty of things. You always ask the contractor if they want the head or not instead of just showing up with it, because you don’t want to shock people. You eat normal amounts of food when eating in public, instead of your usual awe-inducing giant amount. You sleep more when you’re hurt, but that’s the only way I’d ever know. You’re a bit weird about your potions and you count them a lot.” He glances up and grins. “Shall I continue?”

A handful of contracts go sideways. Recovering is easier with Jaskier there.

when midnight breaks their sleep - SummerFrost

Specs: 16 736 words - Mature - Modern setting, polyamory, polyamory negociation

Summary:   The first Snapchat that anyone ever sends Geralt is a picture of his own irritated face.

shrike_princess: can u believe this dumbass finally got a snapchat bc a cute boy asked him nicely

"It wasn't even that nicely," Geralt says flatly.

AKA: The one where Geralt is a bartender and Jaskier sings karaoke.

he, who i love - kinneyb

Specs: 1 279 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Established relationship

Summary: Jaskier looked forward to these nights the most; he was playing in a rundown tavern in a small town near the coast, coins gathered at his feet, knowing that at any moment Geralt would come bursting through the door.

He spun on his heels, strumming his lute with nimble fingers, the mark of a practiced player.

Jaskier had thought he’d reached his peak when he was younger. He had been proven wrong, of course, practice truly did make perfect. He was getting more attention than ever, and only half of it probably had to do with his new songs, all depicting the Witcher’s love story with a bard of the human variety.

He never directly mentioned himself, but the people had made the connection fairly easily, anyway.

Near the Coast - IantoPace

Specs: 2 164 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Dresses

Summary: Geralt finds out some of the feminine things Jaskier likes. This is inspired by the images of Joey Batey & Madeleine Hyland in the woods wearing each other's clothes.

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later - Ladivviniatravestia

Specs: 3 427 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Defining the relationship

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier fuck, then try to define their relationship.  Too bad Geralt has no idea what he really wants and Jaskier has been hiding something.

parry, riposte - plutoandpersephone

Specs: 5 230 words - Explicit - Established relationship, competence kink, power dynamics

Summary: "How about it?"

Geralt looks at Jaskier like he’s just started to speak in some long lost, foreign tongue.

"You want to take me on in the sword ring?"

-

Jaskier challenges Geralt to a bout in the fencing ring. They both get more than they bargained for.

The Coast - NinjaSniperKitty

Specs: 1 856 words - General Audiences - Established relationship, overly protective boyfriend!Geralt

Summary: Geralt takes Jaskier up on his offer to get away and go to the coast for a while. While Geralt sees danger hiding everywhere along the coast, Jaskier hasn't been to the sea in years and only sees a good time!

Sweet, Silky, Soft, and Shiny - Girl_in_Red_Crossing

Specs: 3 251 words - Mature - Inappropriate use of candy

Summary: Just a couple of bros, sucking on sweet things... sharing silky things... lying in soft beds together... (kissing)...

The Witcher Wolf 2: Geralt’s POV - im_fairly_witty.

Specs: 15 338 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Animal transformation

Summary: It's been two weeks since Geralt drove Jaskier away from him on that mountain top and Geralt's been doing his best not to think about it by accepting every contract he comes across. But when a job goes badly he find himself cursed into the form of an injured wolf and is then saved by none other than Jaskier himself, who has no idea that the animal he's taken under his wing is his own witcher. Geralt must now try to alert Jaskier to his real situation and adjust to his new life traveling with the bard, learning several hard but very much needed lessons along the way.

Shadowplay - sospes

Specs: 26 539 words - Mature - BAMF!Jaskier, Espionnage

Summary: Geralt returns to Oxenfurt on a bright May morning to find flowers laid outside Jaskier's rooms and a fresh grave in the cemetery.

Except, as Geralt is about to learn, in Jaskier's world things are never quite what they seem.

An Old Man’s Tale - NotebooksandLaptops

Specs: 1 448 words - General Audiences - External POV, Old age

Summary: At the edge of the village, in a house surrounded by wild-flowers and weeds - re-built from its former crumbling foundations – there lived the Old Man. He’d earnt the rights for the capital O, capital M off of the rest of the villagers barely a week after he’d moved into their humble world. For he had not grown up here, like everyone else did. Yet he settled and settled as if he had always been there. He wandered the cliffsides, the beaches, the streets. He strung shells together and gifted them to the ladies of the village with a wink that betrayed the charming young man he once must have been. He bought the little ceramic pots Alicja sold on the market, and he filled them with weeds as if the weeds were flowers worth showcasing. And – most importantly – he sang.

-///-

Or, Jaskier settles in a costal village towards the end of his life.

For The Joy Of It - vvitchering (Witchering)

Specs: 848 words - Teen & Up Audiences - self esteem issues, body image

Summary: After spending years on The Path together, Jaskier and Geralt finally settle down. Jaskier notices one day that his new sedentary lifestyle has changed him in ways he fears Geralt won't accept.

The Silence Between Heartbeats - anarchycox

Specs: 7 969 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Jskier knows Geralt better than anyone

Summary: Geralt faced off with a sorceress, only instead of her magic killing him, it stole his voice. But this should be an easy fix, he knew many women who could heal this. But that would mean anyone noticing something wrong. He knew he was quiet, but seriously, did no one wonder why he wasn't saying a single thing? Months he traveled silent, no one noticing and it was driving him mad.

Until he runs into Jaskier, who notices immediately that something is wrong.Because of course it is Jaskier.

Who else in the end would it be, who properly saw the White Wolf?

tailored - jeannie_tangerine

Specs: 4 874 words - Explicit - Geralt has a kink and Jaskier is absolutely into it.

Summary: in which Jaskier finds out that Geralt has a kink and is more than glad to indulge it.

oh darling please be mine - kickassfu

Specs: 749 words - General Audiences - Introspective, fluff

Summary: Geralt’s head turns to him just as he’s jumping into his arms. Obviously, he catches Jaskier, in his very strong, very big arms. Still probably processing what’s happening, Geralt’s body is tense, unmoving. Jaskier doesn’t care.

New Monsters Stories - Kathkin

Specs: 20 209 words - Explicit - Urban fantasy, mutual pining

Summary:  “So do you have a name?”

“Yeah.” The man who had saved his life less than an hour ago – the white-haired, absurdly buff, weirdly sexy man Jaskier might have called taciturn if he was feeling charitable and surly if he was feeling less so – dug into his second burger.

Jaskier waited. “Are… you going to tell me what it is?”

The man paused mid-bite, and looked at him reproachfully as if to say how dare you. How dare you interrupt me. Can’t you see I’m enjoying my cheeseburger. Can’t you see this cheeseburger is the most important thing in my life right at the moment. He swallowed, and said, “Geralt.”

It turns out almost getting eaten by a werewolf can make your whole life go careening off in a new, terrifying, wondrous, artistically flourishing direction. Who knew?

Professor Pankratz - martistarfighter

Specs: 1 147 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Established relationship

Sumary:  “Come teach my class with me tomorrow.” He whispers in the witcher’s ear. He’s sporting a neatly trimmed beard these days, and it tickles Geralt’s neck in the most tempting way.

Geralt chuckles dryly, but the lack of an immediate quip tells him that Jaskier is serious. It’s a little scary how often they can read their minds by now.

“Don’t think so. You’re the teacher, Jask. I’ve got nothing to tell them.”

“But you’re the reason I’m still alive and teaching in the first place. Besides, you can just sit there, look pretty and answer some questions. My students have heard a lot about you, they’ll adore you.”

As someone pointed out, there's too much 'witcher watching out for his idiot' and not enough 'the witcher is a himbo who loves his college educated bard husband, who is qualified to teach' content out there. So I'm fixing it with a self-indulgent ficlet!

and i plan to be forgotten when i’m gone (yes, i’ll be leaving in the fall) - Stockholm_Syndrome

Specs: 18 083 words - Mature - Discussion of assisted suicide, discussion of suicide, depression, curse, no MCD

Summary: “That was more emotional than I expected.” He finally said “I didn’t think I’d have time to share this with you, and I.” Jaskier interrupted himself, as if unsure if he should continue. “I suppose I didn’t think it would upset you so.”

“Jaskier” Geralt growled, not able to express how ludicrous that idea was.

“Yes, I suppose I was wrong there.” Jaskier replied with a helpless shrug.

---- Or, Jaskier is cursed to turn into a monster. He doesn't think this is important information to mention.

Chopsticks - thisgirlsays22

Specs: 12 175 words - Explicit - Piano teacher!Jaskier, friends to lovers, modern setting

Summary: “Yennefer sent me a check for eight lessons for you,” Jaskier said the following weekend, wearing a beige button-down with--

“Does your shirt have owls on it?” Geralt asked, caught somewhere between amusement and horror.

Jaskier looked down and tugged on the front of his shirt as if he had to remind himself what was on it. He beamed at Geralt. “Yeah! Do you like it?”

“Not particularly.”

The smile swiftly disappeared.

“It’s not terrible,” he amended, stepping back to let Jaskier inside the apartment. Then Jaskier’s initial words sank in. “Wait. Yen did what?”

Hanging up on Yennefer was always a mistake.

what’s in a (pet) name? - janie_tangerine

Specs: 1 415 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, pet names

Summary:  "So," he clears his throat one evening, having just rinsed Geralt's now clean, soft white hair, and damn how he wishes the man would just take care of it somewhat decently, "I was wondering."

"What?" Geralt says after he doesn't go on for a bit. It didn't sound particularly annoyed. Right on.

"This is a very broad question, but I was just curious, no need to answer if you don't want to -" Jaskier starts, having learned that giving the man a way out is always a good bet.

"Just get on with it, won't you?"

Jaskier clears his throat, leans down, puts his elbows on the rim of the tub. "How do you feel about pet names?"

Or: in which Jaskier has a question for Geralt. It doesn't get answered the way he had assumed.

As Long As You Were Mine For A Little While - whisperedstories

Specs: 12 815 words - Explicit - Friends with benefits, mutual pining

Summary: It starts with Jaskier offering a helping hand when Geralt needs to let off some steam. The thing is, Jaskier likes taking care of Geralt—however he can—and Geralt lets him, so he just keeps doing it.

And as long as they never talk about how he's in love with Geralt, they're both happy with the arrangement, right? Right.

Of Debt and Debtors - sp_oops

Specs: 5 136 words - Explicit - Semi-public sex

Summary: Two bros, chillin' in a ta-vern, five feet apart ‘cause they—fuck, they really missed each other, not that Geralt will ever admit it—and anyway, in a minute here, they're gonna have to get closer than they ever thought possible. (Or, sometime after Episode 6, they meet again, Jaskier’s in trouble again, and Geralt saves them. Again.)

This One I Shall Choose - DorkMagician

Specs: 3 751 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Quiet pining, the exact moment Geralt falls in love

Summary: Geralt falls in the river fishing for a djinn and winds up soaked. Jaskier sees the opportunity to do as his mother told him a long time ago and takes the first step when he offers Geralt his handkerchief.

Skin Deep - Sospes

Specs: 8 935 words- Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, getting together, non consensual tattooing, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced childhood abuse

Summary: “What’s that?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier blinks. “It’s a tattoo,” he says. “Have you never seen a tattoo before, Geralt?”

Geralt fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I know it’s a tattoo,” he says. “What’s it a tattoo of?”

They say there are 5 ways to show your love (and I don’t know any of them) - Mayathelittlebee

Specs: 5 989 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, humor

Summary: May be if Geralt stopped being so dramatic for a moment he'd finally realize that loving Jaskier is not as hard as he thinks.

I don’t mind if I’m with you - janie_tangerine

Specs: 11 152 words - Explicit - In which Jaskier has to quelle his murder instincts concerning how much Geralt’s life sucks

Summary: or: five times plus one in which Jaskier finds out that Geralt is missing on good life experiences and promptly sees to fix it.

Fill Me Up - Mysticmajestic

Specs: 402 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Romance

Summary: Geralt only knows how to give, and give, until he's empty. What is he to do with Jaskier, who only wants to give back to him?

Little Things - QueenForADay

Specs: 3 315 words - General Audiences - Domestic fluff, Ciri ships it

Summary: In the first few months of knowing the Witcher, he experienced first-hand how shut-off Geralt could be with the world around him and those within it.

At some point, and he can’t pinpoint where, that shroud started to slip away. He saw how much Geralt could, and does, actually care. It’s as fierce as the way he fights.

They spend a great deal of time watching each other; when they finally fell into a bed together, they spent most of their nights learning what the other liked, mapping the plains of skin and muscle underneath the other.

But it’s the other things, the little things, that Jaskier thinks about the most.

O, Empathy - almostnectarine

Specs: 32 624 words - Mature - Body swap, friends to lovers, questfic

Summary: “How did you manage,” asked Geralt, with infinite patience and only a desire to know the facts, and not at all a little meanhearted glee, “to insult a sorcerer while his tongue was down your throat?”

“Don’t make me recount the entire sordid affair, Geralt,” said Jaskier, with a surprising note of desperation breaking through his gruff monotone. “I’m already having a rather shit day and all I’ve done so far is wake up.”

“In my body,” said Geralt.

“Yes,” said Jaskier, with the insolent cadence that was unmistakably Jaskier’s, but in Geralt’s voice, emerging from Geralt’s face and frame.

“And I’ve got yours,” said Geralt, from Jaskier’s.

and for that love to be with men - sebviathan

Specs: 6 734 words -Mature - Emotional constipation, self discovery, self acceptance, geralt is a whole ass gay man who doesn’t know what being gay is

Summary: Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it—living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor I would keep falling.

The enormity of Geralt's desire disgusts him.

at last, at last, at last, oh I thought you’d never ask - elegantwings

Specs: 15 040 words - Explicit - Arranged marriage, slow burn, trans!Jaskier, in this house we love Yennefer of Vengerberg

Summary: Geralt is given firm instructions from Vesemir: He is to get married to a Redanian noblewoman in the hopes of improving relations between witchers and the rest of the world. Once the ceremony is over, he plans to drop his new spouse off at their new home and carry on with his life as he always has. Little does he know, his future wife is not a woman, and not so easily left behind. He's not really sure he'd like to get rid of Jaskier, either. Over the next several years, they learn to navigate their new relationship, first while Jaskier completes his degree, and then when Jaskier insists on accompanying him on the road. And no matter what anyone else has to say about it, Geralt is absolutely not in love with his husband.

it’s what my heart just yearns to say - chasing_the_sterek

Specs: 1 071 words - Teen & Up - Slice of life, Jaskier: what if I found a way to make Geralt admit when he needs things

Summary: "If you could have one blessing," Jaskier says, eyes lit green by the fire between them, "What would it be?"

Geralt looks at him. The whetstone is smooth and friction-warm in his palm, edges rounded from use. It's been with him for a long time: almost four years.

Jaskier has been with him for even longer, but he's never done this. Geralt squints at him, but only thing different to this morning is the yellow firelight changing the colour his eyes appear.

"What," he says.

not a goodbye, a thank you - Potrix

Specs: 2 915 words - Mature - Graphic depiction of illness, near death experience, talk about death, found family

Summary: Somewhere further in the courtyard, Lambert yells out a colourful curse while Ciri cackles maniacally. Eskel is taunting the former through his laughter, and Vesemir’s voice joins in with barked commands and corrections once the clang of steel against steel continues. Somewhere above them, on one of the balconies overlooking the yard, Geralt can hear the scratch of quill against parchment as Yennefer works on her correspondence, interrupted every now and again by the tapping of nails against an inkpot.

He realises what’s wrong an instant before everyone else grows suddenly, eerily still; Jaskier is quiet.

After Summers of Fasting (I Feel Hunger At Last) - Artemis_Unbound

Specs: 3 793 words - Teen & Up Audiences - A six pack you can see is not a good thing, Jaskier tricks Geralt into Not Being Starving anymore, Love confessions

Summary: Defined six-pack abs are a sign that someone has been starving and dehydrating themselves, not a sign of incredible strength. It's just not healthy.

Jaskier sees Geralt shirtless for the first time, sees all that defined musculature, and is Horrified. He's slept with enough warriors and soldiers to know what that means. And he decides, this stops now.

Tunes Without Words - foxy_mulder

Specs: 22 021 words - Mature - Self-esteem issues, past abuse, miscommunications, misunderstandings

Summary: The plan is this:

He will note all the things that annoy Geralt, and he will stop doing them, and then Geralt will want him around. It will work.

It has to work, because Jaskier cannot be left behind.

The Path Not Taken - sospes

Specs: 40 149 words - Mature - Extraordinarily bad misunderstanding, Idiots in love, Explicit sexual content

Summary: Jaskier comes across an injured witcher in a backwoods town, months after the events of the dragon hunt. It all just sort of escalates from there.

.

[onelastbreath-writes]

On Bruce And Texting:

Author’s Note: Hello and welcome, this is my first properly written fic, originally posted to my AO3, and now that I have finally created a writing blog, it’s here as well. Please enjoy!!  AO3.  Masterlist

Warnings: Hopefully none, its all cute and fluff <3

Summary: Bruce Wayne texts like he's sending correspondences to the Queen, so of course the little monsters he calls children just have to make fun of him! Brats, the lot of them, but he wouldn't have them any other way.

Features: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, all the bats and birds, mentions JL, no crime fighting, only family fluff, jokes and nods to Millennial and GenZ shenanigans.

Word Count: 2.7k

---

Billionaire, genius, tech expert, father of many children, and all around up-to-date-with-just-about-everything type of person he may be, it is also a well-known Fact that Bruce Wayne, the Batman(TM) himself, can’t text to save his life.

Whether it’s due to his Very Proper English Upbringing, his inability to be informal via written correspondences of any type, his indifference, or the fact that it bothers his children so much, Bruce Wayne has not and never will text with anything less than perfect grammar, spelling, and formality. If he has not sent you a proper letter (featuring a dedication, indentation for every paragraph, signature, and post-script when applicable), he did, in fact, not send you that text. Informality is not his Batman Way(TM) according to his children... he’s not too sure what that even means, but it makes his young ones laugh so it’s probably fine?  

His oldest children (Richard and Jason) were raised in the time of Change, where computers, internet access, social media, and all things similar were only just being introduced into households en-masse. They were young enough to remember a time without such devices and connectivity (both for very different reasons, of course, but they grew up without the newest technology none-the-less). They could understand his relationship to the digital environment more so than his younger children, but they still tended to poke fun at his ‘texting blunders’ regularly. All his kids somehow ended up as brats. He doesn’t know how this happened. It’s certainly not his fault. He blames the League members, and especially Clark Kent, for their defiant personalities. 

His younger children, whom he loves dearly, like to confuse him as much as they possibly can with their slang, egregious spelling errors, and all-around ‘internet humour’. He doesn’t know what ‘wig’ or ‘worm’ or ‘oof’ or anything means. He has no idea what those dances are, or how they relate to the music that seems to always accompany them, and for the love of all that is good, don’t ask him what he thinks of this or that ‘meme’. What even is a ‘meme’, and should he be more concerned about his kids being obsessed with them? He tries, oh my god, does he try to follow the children’s conversations, but they somehow all learned a language he has no idea how to decrypt. His best response to them once they start speaking in tongues is as follows: smile but not too much, listen to child even though he is deeply confused, and pat child on head or shoulder when they are finished and are looking for assurance.  

He refuses to be a parent who ignores or tunes out his children, so he always makes sure to put down his work, his crossword, his tools, or whatever else is in his hands when a child searches him out for a conversation. But somehow, despite all the time he spends around them and their strange words, when he gets text from them comprised of abbreviations, acronyms, and completely random words, he goes a little cross eyed. He would never tell anyone, but he keeps a running list on his phone about the things they say that he has had to translate in the past. Spilling tea? Speaking the truth, usually to do with gossip. Wow? Multiple possible meanings: either a video game, or someone saying it (different pronunciation depending on context and who sent the text). Stickbug? A nice little prank with no ulterior motives, just for fun. Something along the lines of “this basic bitch Karen at the grocery store who is a dirty rat-licker and is def an anti-vaxxer just took 45 (forty-five) minutes to decide she didn’t actually want that almond milk. I Stan the cashier who had to put up with her. Rad af dude.” roughly translates to “A rude, middle-aged white woman who wasn’t wearing a mask and doesn’t believe in disease control or vaccinating her children wasted a great deal of an essential worker’s time in the checkout line. The cashier was very professional in their dealings with said customer and should be commended on their actions.”  

Given enough time, the internet for searching up new slang words, and occasionally some help from a friend (Alfred, Selina, Lucius, another of his children, etc), Bruce could decode and respond appropriately to most texts. He was quite proud of these achievements, and although he didn’t always like how often his children were on their phones or computers or gaming systems, he was quite proud of how integrated and easily they adapted to the ever-evolving world of electronics. All his kids were gifted in many ways, but their ability to learn, their hunger for knowledge, and their perseverance when exploring new and challenging ideas were always the things that he was most impressed by.  

He could do without their comments though. Yes, surprisingly, he did manage to get girlfriends with his type of texting. No, he doesn’t miss the ‘good old days’ when telegraphs were the main form of long-distance correspondence (how old do these brats think he is?!). And yes, he does know what a “tweet” is, and how to “post” on his social media accounts, and what “sliding into your DMs” is (thanks to a frantic search after a WE employee mentioned it near him). The Wayne children, truly whom and what Bruce considers his pride and joy, are cruel little jerks to him sometimes. His hoard of parenting books fails to mention what one should do when their children gang up on them. Bullying is covered of course, but he can’t really talk to a teacher or his guardian about how his second son calls him an idiot sandwich, or that his third son regularly tries to get him to do something “For The Vine”. His oldest and youngest boys are only slightly better in the bullying him department; Richard and his puppy dog eyes when he wants to do something dangerous or not-Alfred-approved, and Damian and his growing collection of pets because “Mother never let me have them, and I am deprived, and don’t you love me Father?”.  

His only good child is his beautiful daughter Cassandra, the flower of the Wayne clan. She gives him hugs, and pats his hands, and can sit with him and just enjoy the quiet and stillness when his other children are not around. Her language skills are improving by leaps and bounds every day, and her heart and spirit are unparalleled, but her main method of communication is in her movements. Her hands, her posture, her dancing; Bruce couldn’t think of a more graceful, fluid, powerful person if the world depended on it. His amazing little girl doesn't bully him (and if she ever does, he probably deserves it, he trusts her), so he turns to her most of all when it comes to communicating with someone else. She doesn’t let him send anything that is “sketchy” or “wrong words, bad meaning, Dad”. He would give the world to his children, but for Cassandra, he would destroy it and build her an entirely new one.

Social media, especially with his terrible children all having accounts dedicated to making him look like a simpleton, was another rocky terrain he had to navigate on the regular. He had professionals in place at WE to run the company’s many accounts, paid top dollar to help appeal and relate to the masses, but he mostly had to manage his personal accounts himself. And so, @TheRealBruceWayne was one of the greatest struggles in his adult life. Why can’t he just retweet every post from @WE_Offical and leave it at that? People should only want to know about what’s new with the company. What do you mean they want to know more about our family and private lives? That’s unnecessary, and not important to the running of the company, right? Right? Why are you laughing?!

Luckily, most people in his life aren’t so intimately aware of his struggles. He can act and lie all he wants about being “hip” and “woke” and whatever else the kids are saying these days when he’s with the JL or in board meeting intermissions, networking with his associates. The Batman knows all and sees all, Green Lantern, of course he understands how “Tiktok” works. The Batman is a robot without a funny bone in his body, Green Arrow, but I did witness him sigh and say “same” when he knocked his cup of coffee over while on monitor duty once. No matter how badly his darling children call him out, the Justice League would be so much worse. So, it’s one of his most importantly guarded secrets... even more so than his secret identity at this point. Being unmasked in front of every Gotham rogue would be less detrimental to him than his “friends” learning of his utter ineptitude in staying on top of the younger generations’ lingo.  

When questioned why the League doesn’t have a group chat or a forum or anything that they can use to contact each other outside of world ending matters and communicator (”because we’re friends, Batman! Ma and Pa Kent would love to have everyone over for a barbecue!”), the person who dared even mention texting isn’t even given a verbal response. They are just glared at, silently, often for several uninterrupted minutes, frozen in place only able to breathe shallowly in fear of setting off the Bat. “You know why” his glare says, “I’ll eat you, your family, and everything you have ever held dear” the younger members hear. No one makes the mistake of asking about it twice.  

Outside of his children and Alfred, and his small circle of true friends involved in all aspects of his life, there is only one more person Bruce allows to know of his Darkest Secret. Selina. Someone most people would recommend he not be involved with. Catwoman: accomplished thief, distraction, chaos-incarnate most nights, and his significant other. Sharp as a whip (ha) and crafty like no one’s business; he is head-over-heels. On again/Off again and all over the place their long romance has been, but no one has ever challenged him, intrigued him, like this clever, beautiful, amazing woman has. He’s brought his partners around his children before, both for their judgement, and for their worst behaviours to vet out any “unworthy” suitors. He trusts them explicitly to tell him the truth about those he allows into the manor; were they rude about Bruce wanting to have group outings, did they say something about Bruce’s money, did they get angry or shout or make anyone uncomfortable while they were here? If his children even looked slightly unhappy with someone he brought them to meet, that person would not be invited back. Children, he finds, have the best sight when meeting people; no motives other than finding safety and love, no fear of consequences from speaking honestly...  

Selina, or Catwoman, as they had known her first, was someone all of his kids liked without issue right off the bat. She would make puns and play word games with Richard, his first Robin, tiny, still working on his English, able to connect with him over their acrobatic abilities. His second Robin, Jason, skittish and feisty as an alley cat, knew of Catwoman and her daring escapades long before Bruce found him. The young boy had a few heroes, and no one (not even Wonder Woman) could compare to the incredible burglar who bought food and jackets and medicine for the street kids in Crime Alley. She was saintly in his eyes, and to this day, Bruce was still working on convincing Jason he was good enough for Selina. Tim and Cass and Stephanie (basically another daughter to Bruce, she spends so much time with the family) all joined the Wayne clan around the same time and officially met Selina as a friend and partner of his, and in the good graces of his first two sons. Selina, in all her nightly business, and many travels and acquaintances, had met the three independently, helping Tim get home safely back to Drake Manor when he escaped to photograph Batman and Robin in the dank darkness of Gotham when he was just a young boy, spending some time with Cassandra when her despicable father left her alone long enough to recover from his rough treatment, showing her the first scraps of kindness in her short life, and watching over and protecting Stephanie as she followed and sabotaged her father Cluemaster and his criminal activities. There was no need to win them over once they met her civilian identity, she had already gained their favour and acceptance, and they were happy to have her near their new family. Damian, his youngest, his biological son, took the longest to warm up to Selina. He would never fault his little boy for fighting so hard against a woman that was not his birth mother, especially after all the manipulation and cruelty dealt to him by Talia for the first decade of his life. But as he began to learn about his father, these people in his father’s life, and this woman that was Not His Mother but “still okay, I guess”, he grew to see her as acceptable. Her cats definitely helped, he’d say, no one with cats that loyal and happy can be a bad person.  

Selina, the love of his life, he’d admit quietly to himself, was also a dirty traitor and in cahoots with his terrible children. She would say his texting skills were “sweet” and “very gentlemanly” when she was asked by anyone outside the family, and privately to him she would say she thought they were “adorable” and “please don’t ever change, Bruce, I like it.” However, nothing seemed to bring her more joy than his children sending her texts and “Snaps” and “memes” about him to her. Sometimes it was screenshots of the family group chat that they forced him to join, where he would post “To whom it may concern...” and “In regards to...” when he needed to reach all his delinquents in a timely manner. Sometimes it was video clips of him staring at his phone intently, then typing something on his laptop, then him reading and nodding along, and then finally going back and responding to the text he received with a small, pleased smile. And sometimes, when he got too injured or was too incapacitated to text coherently, he’d have his nearest able child transcribe his text to her. Depending on who was texting her for Bruce, she could expect many different things. From Dick, she’d get lots of shorthand and silly emojis, and many, many, winky and crying/laughing faces in brackets depending on what Bruce had made him type. Jason, bless him, used proper English most of the time, but would never write a single word of Bruce’s soliloquy to her, instead she enjoyed the TL;DR version: “hurt again, missing you, come home soon, blah blah blah, sappy gross words here, love you”. Tim would allow speech recognition to run on Bruce’s phone, and just let it go until the man passed out. Stephanie, the little chaos child, would film it and send it to her, including all her muffled laughter and shaky camera shots of Bruce emoting with his available undamaged limbs. Cass, still more versed in physicality and emotive movement, would interpret Bruce’s text into mostly emojis, hearts and happy faces and animals, but would include photos, and phrases that she found important enough to type out for Selina. Damian, forever his Father’s son in any way possible, texts very formally, referring to her or his siblings Bruce mentions by last name only, and lots of “Father requests me to tell you...” and “Kyle, know that Father...”. She adores these kids, and once Bruce recovers enough to text her himself, or she gets back to the Manor, they get to laugh about whatever she was sent this time.  

So, while it’s true that Bruce couldn’t text his way out of a wet paper bag, and his kids are sometimes brats about it, there’s probably a lot of different reasons he doesn’t spend too much time trying to improve his skills. Whether it’s the smiles of his children, the giggles of his significant other, or the warm feeling in his chest when he sees all his important people bonding over him, well, in the end, who’s to say?

[smartguyreviewed]

2x5 - Dumbstruck

Original air date:  October 8, 1997

Yay, an episode where TJ is actually acting like a kid! And also an excuse for me to rant about how much I despise group projects.

A very over it Lisa Simpson (played by Yeardley Smith) is handing back tests to her dumb ass students save for TJ and this annoying white kid named Clark that we’ll be introduced to briefly because Mackey ended up being the lead token white on this show, right next to Yvette’s cute friend Nina.

Clark asks how TJ did. He humble brags and Marcus snatches his test to gloat about his brother finally not doing well at something. Sike! TJ got a 110 on his assignment. Marcus is dumbfounded since he clearly doesn’t even put in the bare minimum. 

Lisa has to remind Marcus that demonstrating how you actually studied will get you more points. She gives her lazy, remedial students a chance to make up for their piteous attempts with a makeup assignment, an oral group report on WW2. Now everyone is mad at TJ because he fucked up the curve of the grading system, facilitating the need for a makeup assignment. Mackey is pissed.

Marcus and Mo of course decide to stick all the work on TJ while they go to Dawgburger. TJ, now wanting to fit in with his cool brother and bestie, agrees but is promptly thrown into a garbage can by Mackey and his 30 year old goon when they give him shit for being smart. Because the plot calls for it in this episode, TJ isn’t masterminding a plan to put fudged up charges on Mackey’s record or flunk him out of school forever. 

At the Henderson crib, TJ is attempting to do the assignment but the boys are watching The Three Stooges with non-copyright stock sound effects and can’t be bothered to lower the volume. Even Floyd stops scolding Marcus and Mo to join them. Apparently, TJ thinks being a genius and being entertained by slapstick are mutually exclusive.

Yvette is in the kitchen frowning at her fruitless yogurt when TJ comes in to whine about feeling left out. Yvette, as usual, is there to provide motherly advice and reassure TJ that he’s too brilliant to relate to simpleton humor. She even suggests that he’ll be the only non crooked black politician on the Supreme Court. Aww. TJ will revenge porn her in the future.

Just then, a truck pulls in with daddy Floyd’s wood--hehe--and the boys, including Mo, gather in the garage to bring in Floyd’s wood--last time, I promise--to wherever it needs to go.

Yvette comes in after the gang delegates how the work flow will commence and then commands the plot for the episode when she tells TJ his shoe is untied while Mo and Marcus are handing boards to each other. This ended well.

After passing out, Marcus, who is terrifyingly not alarmed, just calls for Floyd and then we end up at the hospital where it seems that TJ’s relatively light board smack has now rendered him dumb. Not only dumb but more childish than usual.

Marcus cares nothing about TJ’s prognosis, however, because he is a horny teenage boy and the doc is hot. Yvette has to literally drag him out of the room by his ear.

The doctor tells Floyd that this strange concussion could leave TJ acting like this for weeks. Of course Floyd is concerned since TJ is gifted. The next morning, TJ is so forgetful and delayed at breakfast that Floyd and Yvette have to play charades to help him navigate feeding himself.

Marcus comes in and asks if TJ is back to normal because he doesn’t want to do anything that makes him use his own damn brain for a change. After Flody sees this because Marcus did it right in the kitchen where he was about three feet away, he of course takes Marcus aside to tell him to quit badgering TJ to get well again.

At school, Mo thinks it’s a good idea to simply undo TJ’s problem by hitting him in the head again. Since we’re working off corny sitcom logic, he’s not exactly off base here. I mean, it did only take two light hits from a wooden board to turn TJ into an imbecile so why not do the same to get him back to normal, right?

During class, TJ is wowing everyone with his diminished IQ that was announced to everyone in the class for some reason. Eh, it’s Piedmont so I really shouldn’t be surprised that all of his business is out there.

Lisa is pissed because now that TJ is dumb and she hates Clark for some reason, teaching will be damn near impossible because nobody participates. I think I feel her pain because she asks a super easy question (what naval base did the Japanese attack) and nobody but annoying ass Clark answers. Poor thing. She probably came into this profession bright-eyed and bushy tailed, ready to change students’ lives and become the next Erin Gruwell but ended up becoming nothing more than a de facto babysitter.

TJ is taking advantage of being one of the guys by making fun of the more deadly effects of dropping bombs and says it led to radioactive monsters. The boys laugh but Lisa is aggy that nobody is taking this seriously. To spite her idiot students, she makes the reports worth half of their grade. Mackey blames Clark instead of the teacher who literally just assigned it. For some reason, this tickles Clark even though he’s going to end up in the garbage soon.

Since TJ is one of the guys again, he manages to tag along with the crew at Dawgburger, a place he wasn’t invited to earlier since he was going to do their group assignment all by himself. In hindsight, I hated group projects because I did all of the work anyways since my cohorts were dumb as rock boxes, so this wouldn’t have bothered me at all. Abolish group projects!

Post Dawgburger, TJ is in bed reading a comic and shooting the shit with Marcus. This is sweet. I like seeing siblings bond on TV shows because the regular narrative always seems to involve them all hating each other. Here, there’s no drama, just Marcus actually being responsible because he’s studying for the oral report and TJ, in what would be his natural state if he weren’t a genius. They even have a heart to heart when TJ asks if he’ll be okay and what would happen once he’s back to normal. Marcus says he’ll still stick up for him. Aww.

In geometry the next day, TJ’s intelligence just comes right back after he flawlessly recites the Pythagorean theorem when the dorky teacher asks. Once he realizes this, and after having probably the few easiest days in a while, TJ understandably commits to pretending to be a dolt. That is until pops sees TJ’s quantum physics magazine inside of a comic book!

Floyd traps TJ by making up a pretty damn good scenario in the Jughead comics but later confirms the lie by letting TJ know that wasn’t in the comic. He goes into how he likes being dumb with the guys because they like him more. Makes sense! TJ has nothing in common with them outside of attending their school but now he’s intellectually on their level. He knows this would change once he goes back to his regular self. Floyd should know this too but alas. I do love how he tells TJ he won’t rat on him. TJ returns the favor by telling his dad that he should write for the Jughead comics because that story he made up made him LOL super hard.

We cut to school where Mackey is just finishing up his group presentation about the X-Men invading Iwo Jima. Lisa Simpson isn’t impressed. Marcus and crew are up next and poor Marcus is struggling. I think it’s so funny that Marcus, a singer with a whole ass band, has stage fright upon trying to remember everything he studied for but just goes to show that music comes easier to him than school.

The internal monologues of everyone come up. Marcus is trying to remember what he studied. TJ contemplates bringing his brain back. Mo is...fucking beatboxing in his head. This shit had me dead when I first saw this episode. 

However, Lisa ain’t having it. She is two seconds away from using the dreaded red pen before TJ saves the day and begins talking about WW2. The boys are shocked but it helps trigger Marcus’s memory and then he’s able to spew out the facts. Mo doesn’t contribute but he will definitely take the credit! 

Later in the Henderson crib, Marcus is pissed because TJ almost let them fail. Although TJ is reminding Marcus that he put his effort into something and it paid off, Marcus is still annoyed leading TJ to think he doesn’t like him anymore.

Marcus explains that he enjoyed TJ’s company when he was dumb because he finally felt like what he is: his older brother. Kind of hard to feel that way when your younger brother is better at everything you do and a major know-it-all. He even admits that he can’t even pretend now that TJ is smart again because it won’t feel the same. I like when Marcus is doing more than chasing girls every episode because he shows maturity at times that is pleasing to watch.

He offers to instead be an older brother in other ways like threatening other people with violence if they make fun of TJ. Cute, but we all know Marcus is scary. Nice gesture though! Floyd comes in and tells the boys good night. At the end, we see Floyd took TJ up on his advice and is submitting an idea to the Jughead comics. Aww Floyd. I wish we’d gotten a subtle nod to if his idea was used because he seemed really happy with himself afterwards. Eh, whatever. Parents aren’t people so who cares.

Things I noticed:

- Clark being oddly satisfied that he knows Mackey and his fellow middle-aged adult friend are going to put him in the trash. Clark either has a crush on Mackey and didn’t like TJ for the attention he got from Mackey or he has some sort of a trash fetish. Or both. Maybe that’s why Lisa doesn’t fuck with him.

- “Okay students, now watch as I turn left to a right triangle.” I’m a dork and this actually made me laugh. Tough classroom, though.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Help from On High

O Thou who art King of kings and Lord of lords, we worship Thee. Before Jehovah’s awful throne, we bow with sacred joy.

We can truly say that we delight in God. There was a time when we feared Thee, O God, with the fear of bondage. Now we reverence, but we love as much as we reverence. The thought of Thine omnipresence was once horrible to us. We said, “Whither shall we flee from His presence?” and it seemed to make hell itself more dreadful, because we heard a voice, “If I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there.” But now, O Lord, we desire to find Thee. Our longing is to feel Thy presence and it is the heaven of heavens that Thou art there. The sick bed is soft when Thou art there. The furnace of affliction grows cool when Thou art there and the house of prayer, when Thou art present, is none other than the house of God and it is the very gate of heaven.

Come near, our Father, come very near to Thy children. Some of us are very weak in body and faint in heart. Soon, O God, lay Thy right hand upon us and say unto us, “Fear not.” Peradventure, some of us are alike and the world is attracting us. Come near to kill the influence of the world with Thy superior power.

Even to worship may not seem easy to some. The dragon seems to pursue them and floods out of his mouth wash away their devotion. Give to them great wings as of an eagle, that each one may fly away into the place prepared for him, and rest in the presence of God today.

Our Father, come and rest Thy children now. Take the helmet from our brow, remove from us the weight of our heavy armour for awhile, and may we just have peace, perfect peace, and be at rest. Oh! help us, we pray Thee, now. As Thou hast already washed Thy people in the fountain filled with blood and they are clean, now this morning wash us from defilement in the water. With the basin and with the ewer, O Master, wash our feet again. It will greatly refresh. It will prepare us for innermost fellowship with Thyself. So did the priests wash ere they went into the holy place.

Lord Jesus, take from us now everything that would hinder the closest communion with God. Any wish or desire that might hamper us in prayer remove, we pray Thee. Any memory of either sorrow or care that might hinder the fixing of our affection wholly on our God, take it away now. What have we to do with idols anymore? Thou hast seen and observed us. Thou knowest where the difficulty lies. Help us against it and may we now come boldly, not into the Holy place alone, but into the Holiest of all, where we should not dare to come if our great Lord had not rent the veil, sprinkled the mercy seat with His own blood, and bidden us enter.

Now, we have come close up to Thyself, to the light that shineth between the wings of the cherubim, and we speak with Thee now as a man speaketh with his friends. Our God, we are Thine. Thou art ours. We are now concerned in one business—we are leagued together for one battle. Thy battle is our battle and our fight is Thine. Help us, we pray Thee. Thou who didst strengthen Michael and his angels to cast out the dragon and his angels, help poor flesh and blood that to us also the word may be fulfilled, “The Lord shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly.”

Our Father, we are very weak. Worst of all we are very wicked if left to ourselves and we soon fall a prey to the enemy. Therefore, help us. We confess that sometimes in prayer when we are nearest to Thee at that very time some evil thought comes in, some wicked desire. Oh! what poor simpletons we are. Lord, help us. We feel as if we would now come closer to Thee still and hide under the shadow of Thy wings. We wish to be lost in God. We pray that Thou mayest live in us, and not we live, but Christ live in us and show Himself in us and through us.

Lord, sanctify us. Oh! that Thy spirit might come and saturate every faculty, subdue every passion, and use every power of our nature for obedience to God.

Come, Holy Spirit, we do know Thee. Thou hast often overshadowed us. Come, more fully take possession of us. Standing now as we feel we are, right up at the Mercy Seat, our very highest prayer is for perfect holiness, complete consecration, entire cleansing from every evil. Take our heart, our head, our hands, our feet, and use us all for Thee. Lord, take our substance, let us not hoard it for ourselves, nor spend it for ourselves. Take our talent, let us not try to educate ourselves that we may have the repute of being wise, but let every gain of mental attainment be still that we may serve Thee better.

May every breath be for Thee, may every minute be spent for Thee. Help us to live while we live, and while we are busy in the world as we must be, for we are called to it, may we sanctify the world for Thy service. May we be lumps of salt in the midst of society. May our spirit and temper as well as our conversation be heavenly. May there be an influence about us that shall make the world the better before we leave it. Lord, hear us in this thing.

And now that we have Thine ear, we would pray for this poor world in which we live. We are often horrified by it. O, Lord, we could wish that we did not know anything about it for our own comfort. We have said, “Oh! for a lodge in some vast wilderness.” We hear of oppression and robbery and murder, and men seem let loose against each other. Lord, have mercy upon this great and wicked city. What is to be done with these millions? What can we do? At least help every child of Thine to do his utmost. May none of us contribute to the evil directly or indirectly, but may we contribute to the good that is in it.

We feel we may speak with Thee now about this, for when Thy servant Abraham stood before Thee and spake with such wonderful familiarity to Thee, he pleaded for Sodom, and we plead for London. We would follow the example of the Father of the Faithful and pray for all great cities, and indeed for all the nations. Lord, let Thy kingdom come. Send forth Thy light and Thy truth. Chase the old dragon from his throne, with all his hellish crew. Oh! that the day might come when even upon earth the Son of the woman, the Man-child, should rule the nations, not with a broken staff of wood, but with an enduring sceptre of iron, full of mercy, but full of power, full of grace, but yet irresistible. Oh! that that might soon come, the personal advent of our Lord! We long for the millennial triumph of His Word.

Until then, O Lord, gird us for the fight and make us to be among those who overcome, through the blood of the Lamb and through the word of our testimony, because we “love not our lives unto the death.”

We lift our voice to Thee in prayer, also, for all our dear ones. Lord, bless the sick and make them well as soon as it is right they should be. Sanctify to them all they have to bear. There are also dear friends who are very weak, some that are very trembling. God bless them. While the tent is being taken down, may the inhabitant within look on with calm joy, for we shall by-and-by “be clothed upon with our house that is from heaven.” Lord, help us to sit very loose by all these things here below. May we live here like strangers and make the world not a house but an inn, in which we sup and lodge, expecting to be on our journey tomorrow.

Lord, save the unconverted and bring out, we pray Thee, from among them those who are converted, but who have not confessed Christ. May the Church be built up by many who, having believed, are baptized unto the sacred name. We pray Thee go on and multiply the faithful in the land. Oh! that Thou wouldst turn the hearts of men to the Gospel once more. Thy servant is often very heavy in heart because of the departures from the faith. Oh! bring them back. Let not Satan take away any more of the stars with his tail, but may the lumps of God shine bright. Oh! Thou that walkest amongst the seven golden candlesticks trim the flame, pour forth the oil, and let the light shine brightly and steadily. Now, Lord, we cannot pray any longer, though we have a thousand things to ask for. Thy servant cannot, so he begs to leave a broken prayer at the Mercy Seat with this at the foot of it, we ask in the name of Jesus Christ Thy Son. Amen.

a Prayer by Charles H. Spurgeon

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

The Cryptoliberal creep/the left is dead: Anarchist-Individualist critique of the left in Ireland

“Freedom is not something that anybody can be given; Freedom is something that people take and people are as free as they want to be” — James Arthur Baldwin

“I think my basic viewpoint is that everything the left and right say about each other is true. And the reason it’s true is because they have so much in common.” — Bob Black

The so called “radical left” has been a total failure, has done nothing and has not made any “radical change”. The “radical left” has only been successful in re-creating institutions of hierarchy and dominance via its parties, unions and front groups/campaigns. Many leftists building nice careers for themselves in the process.

The “radical left” of the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s (most notably former members of the Workers Party) are now the very people that have been pushing and implementing neoliberalism in Ireland. The old “radical” leftists have swapped their radical language and false promises for Mercedes cars, designer suits and high waged state or union positions.

There is no doubt that many modern leftist will have the same faith as their counterparts. It’s not hard to imagine. The exact same problems that existed within the left today are the very ones that were always there. These problems can be broken down into factors such as: populism, opportunism, careerism, and reformism (to name but a few).

There is no order of importance, all these factors have equally damaging effects. These factors are not specific to any one current within the left but to the whole left. These factors contribute differently but equally to the left’s failure to create any “radical change” or transformation they proclaim to want.

Let’s break it down a little:

“SOCIALISM: Discipline, discipline; obedience, obedience; slavery and ignorance, pregnant with authority. A bourgeois body grotesquely fattened by a vulgar christian creature. A medley of fetishism, sectarianism and cowardice.

ORGANIZATIONS, LEGISLATIVE BODIES AND UNIONS: Churches for the powerless. Pawnshops for the stingy and weak. Many join to live parasitically off the backs of their card-carrying simpleton colleagues. Some join to become spies. Others, the most sincere, join to end up in jail from where they can observe the mean-spiritedness of all the rest.” — Renzo Novatore

Opportunism:

Whether as an individual activists or as a member of a party, union or some other type of organization, leftist take part and use struggles for a whole lot of reason. These struggles could be in a workplace, housing, abortion rights, even supporting struggles in other countries that are a popular, etc. In struggles leftists use political maneuvers in order to hijack, centralise, and harness the energy, power, and enthusiasm of angry people for their own political gain, aims and motivations. Leftists use campaigns and struggles as ways of gaining followers and support for their programmes, building their own power cliques and personal networks, climbing the political or union careerist ladders, or even at the least, for activist scene points.

Careerism:

Many leftists take part in struggles to use them as means to build careers. The career could be in politics, unions, academia, journalism, NGOs, etc. Some Leftists becoming “experts”or “specialists” on certain topics/struggles, using the gained knowledge to further their career.

Populism:

Populism is a curse in the fight for liberation. Populism is dangerous, populism risks losing or gaining “the party”, “the movement”, “the organization” or “the campaign” support, credibility or new members. Populism also creates a dynamic within left organisations that will determine what “the party” or “group” will support or what actions taken, projects, or campaigns they will get involved with. They will always go with the popular option, even if it is wrong. If activists in a campaign, party, or group swerve off the populist road, they are at risk of being punished and vilified by the majority. They could have their names tarnished, blackened, lies made up and spread about them. All attempts at discrediting and to remove people seen as opposition. Populism will make people tell lies to mislead others and tarnish opponents. Struggles have been destroyed and lost because of populism. These dirty tactics are used against any threats to their positions, to discredit and isolate people that are opposed to their strategies or views, to remove opposition in campaigns or projects to clear the field which will help with them hijacking, having more influence and control; making people look “bad”,“mad”, “crazy” or “troublemakers” so no one will listen to their opinion or ideas, to save or gain support.

Reformism:

A large majority of the left, whither they call themselves, socialists,marxists, leninists, trotskyists, and even some anarchists, are in fact crypto-liberals. These liberals disguise themselves with radical language and bullshit. They do not want to overthrow or destroy the state and capitalism, although they may say they do. They want to reform it away, make it more “nicer” for people bit by bit. They naively believe this can be done peacefully and with well thought out arguments, protest marches and lobbying. The “resistance” they proclaim is of pacifism, delegation, negotiation and compromise with the state and bosses.

Trade unions like all formal organizations based on growing in membership are prone to populism and the other factors I mentioned above. At worst union officials undermine and disempower struggles, compromising with bosses, negotiating deals on what would appear to be the best outcome for workers, but realistically contribute towards keeping this society intact. At best unions are reformist that help to make improvements to conditions of exploitation making the daily toil of work a little bit more bearable. Ultimately unions are a cog in the machine of capitalism, with the outcome of helping towards the creation of social peace between exploited and exploiters. There is no revolutionary potential from trade unions.

For the leftist politico their intentions are to run in elections which they hope to win so they can make “radical changes” to the state and therefore make life better for “the people” (as they view it anyway).

The politicos say if they do not have enough power in parliament to make “radical change” at the least they will be able to make “radical” challenges to the government.

The outcomes of such bullshit tactics are well known. If a leftist is elected into parliament they can make counter arguments to the government, this usually falls to nothing. We have seen this in the South of Ireland with socialist TD’s (elected representatives) making arguments against a variety of issues such as the use of Shannon airport by the US military, the Shell oil company plundering natural resources in Mayo, the struggle for housing, and the struggle against water privatization.

If a Leftist party wins enough seats to win power or share power with another party they end up watering down their “radical” views and implement the most right wing of policies, we have seen this in recent history with the Irish Labour party in the South of Ireland and we have seen it with Sinn Fein in the North of Ireland (not that either party had very radical views to start off with, but they gave lip service to socialism at some point), both parties completely selling out to every person that voted for them implementing neo liberalist policies.

Politicos running in elections and playing in the parliamentary circus water down their “radicalism” the more they take part in it, constantly being on the watch, making sure they don’t lose support and wanting to gain support. This inevitably makes them compromise and sell out little by little, till they finally stop preaching any type of “radicalism”.

During the struggle against water privatization we have seen the crypto-liberals use their vanguardist tactics blatantly. From when people from working class neighbourhoods defended their neighbourhoods against the installation of water meters in homes in many communities throughout Ireland. The resistance sparked off sporadically. People resisting from different neighborhoods linked up together to help each other. Politicos and union bureaucrats infiltrated different neighborhoods that were resistant, to hijack the struggle. The politicos (Parties such as Sinn Fein, Socialist Party, Socialist Workers Party, the Communist Party of Ireland, Eirigi; and unions such as Unite and Mandate) invented “Right2Water” a campaign group which plonked itself on top of the struggle attempting to claim to be the representative of the all the people resisting water privatization. The politicos used this campaign as means to bring the struggle down the road of parliamentary politics. In lots of areas the politicos were successful in their hijacking, in some neighbourhoods people were wise to them.

Every couple of months there would be a call for a “peaceful march” through the streets of Dublin with loads of bull shit boring speeches at the end, from politicos of course. Any people at the march that didn’t go by the “peaceful march” narrative were tarnished as the “bad protesters” and “trouble makers”. These so called “troublemakers” would block traffic or occupy buildings (usually banks) and blocking busy roads. These type of tactics didn’t suit the politicos because it was out of their control and did not suit their narrative. During a demonstration in a working class neighbourhood a youth threw a brick at a pig car. A Socialist Party politico (and member of parliament) that had infiltrated the water struggle, publicly condemned the youth calling for the pigs to arrest, charge and convict the youth. Others were denounced by politicos for burning vans that belonged to the company that was installing water metres.

The water struggle came to a head when the Right2Water politicos and union bureaucrats thirsty for any scrap of power, sat on “the Expert Water Commision” which was created by the government, and accepted that a private company would own the water services (ie the privatization of water). Charges for domestic use of water have been put on hold (for now). The leftist politicos and bureaucrats try to claim this as a “great victory”. To this day the Irish Water company continue to put in water meters into homes, laying the ground for in the future when it wants to implement charges for using water in homes. The politicos and bureaucrats done this without any consent, and ultimately they disempowered the struggle in the process.

These tactics are used time and time again by the crypto-liberals. It was seen in popular struggles such as: struggle against water privatisation in the late 1990’s, the anti war movement in the early 2000’s, struggle against bin charges 2000’s, struggle against property tax in the 2010’s and recently in the struggle for housing, with the same sex marriage and abortion referendums — crypto liberals maneuvering themselves into position of mediator between the state or bosses and excluded and exploited individuals. Of course all these struggles were (and some still are) hot topics and were high up on agendas for electionaring.