#do not take everything i say at face value!

[creature-wizard]

Critical thinking tip: Know the difference between a fact and an assertion.

A lot of people out here take a lot of things they read and hear at face value, and because of this a lot of misinformation gets spread around.

Asking yourself whether you're looking at a fact or an assertion can be very helpful here.

A fact has actual evidence to support it. If someone says "the sky is blue," we can look up on a sunny day and see for ourselves that it is in fact blue.

An assertion might be true, but it might not be. For example, I can assert that I've found an ancient prophetic scroll whether or not I actually have one in my possession.

I could sit down and write a whole document full of my own personal opinions on how society should be run and claim it was dictated to me by an angel that appeared before me in full radiant splendor that morning. I could just lie about that.

I could write a book on my own personal spiritual beliefs, and assert it was given to me by a member of an ancient secret order or found in an ancient site, even though I just typed it up myself on a caffeine high.

I could assert that I met a guy who had the most astounding magical powers, and taught me how to do what he did. Doesn't mean it happened.

I could just assert one day that a high-ranking member of the Vatican told me that the Pope is actually a sentient fungal colony, even though I've never personally talked to any member of the Catholic clergy in my entire life.

I could write a book asserting that on January 1, 2001, a herd of unicorns pranced on the White House lawn. Again, doesn't make it true!

People can just say anything they want, and they can put it in a book. And they can say anything they want about how they got that book. Don't just believe everything you hear and read. Ask yourself: how can I be reasonably sure this is true, and this person isn't just lying or repeating bad information?

If you want to learn more about evaluating sources of information, I recommend checking out Information Literacy Basics.

[amethystarachnid]

Hi rose!!

Could i request ‘Christmas Caroling (Disaster)’ from your marvel holiday special with (platonic relationship) natasha romanoff and fem!reader? just banter, fluff and laughs! If you don’t write for Nat or don’t write platonic relationships, feel free to change any details!

Thank you!

CAROLING & SNOWBALL FIGHTS

⤷ NATASHA A. ROMANOFF

ᯓ★ Pairing: Natasha A. Romanoff x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, platonic

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 3.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: You're feeling bored so your best friend, Natasha Romanoff herself, takes matters into her own hands and decides to make you have som fun outside the Compound.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

It’s another quiet morning at the Avengers Compound, snowflakes tumbling lazily past the frosted windows. You’ve been staring at the same book for an hour, the words blending into an indecipherable blur. With a sigh, you drop it on the coffee table and stretch, looking around the room for something, anything, to do. The holiday decorations you and the team painstakingly put up last week sparkle in the soft light, but even they can’t hold your attention.

“Bored, huh?” Natasha’s voice makes you jump. She’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smirk on her lips. She’s dressed casually in a dark hoodie and jeans, her red hair pulled into a loose braid. The sight is almost comical; you’re used to seeing her geared up for a mission, not looking like she’s about to suggest a Netflix marathon.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Painfully,” she replies, stepping into the room. She flops onto the couch beside you, stealing the mug of hot chocolate you’d abandoned earlier. “What’s the problem, Y/N? Cabin fever?”

“Something like that,” you admit. “I can’t take another day of sitting around here doing nothing. I swear I’ll lose my mind.”

Natasha takes a sip, watching you over the rim of the mug. She’s silent for a moment before her face lights up with an idea. “Let’s get out of here.”

You blink at her. “Out of here? Like, where?”

“Central Park,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s snowing, it’s December, and I’m guessing you’ve never seen it in full winter wonderland mode.”

“That’s because I value my extremities,” you quip, though a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. The idea is already growing on you. “But fine. If I lose a finger to frostbite, you owe me a really good story to make up for it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but grabs your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Deal. Now go bundle up, rookie.”

Ten minutes later, you’re layered up in coats, scarves, and gloves, feeling like a marshmallow on legs. Natasha teases you mercilessly about your knit hat, but you point out that at least you’ll be warm. She’s only wearing a simple beanie and claims she doesn’t feel the cold��a classic spy move, you’re sure.

The streets are bustling when you arrive in Manhattan, but the chaos is strangely comforting. The city hums with energy, a mix of holiday cheer and the usual fast-paced New York vibe. As you approach Central Park, the snow seems to muffle the noise, wrapping everything in a blanket of quiet beauty.

Natasha leads the way, her boots crunching in the snow. The paths are partially cleared, but the open spaces are covered in a thick layer of pristine white. You spot families building snowmen and kids racing each other on sleds. A few brave souls are attempting to ice skate on the frozen pond.

“This is actually kind of nice,” you admit, looking around in awe.

“Told you,” Natasha says smugly, tossing a snowball at your shoulder. It’s a lazy throw, but you still yelp in surprise, brushing the snow off your coat.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” you warn, bending down to scoop up your own handful of snow. Natasha dodges easily, laughing as your attempt sails harmlessly past her.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunts, darting behind a tree for cover. You chase after her, and soon you’re both caught in an all-out snowball fight, ducking and weaving like you’re in some kind of ridiculous winter-themed action movie. Natasha is annoyingly good at dodging, but you manage to land a few hits, much to your satisfaction.

Eventually, you call a truce, both of you panting and grinning like kids. “I can’t feel my hands,” you complain, shaking the snow out of your gloves.

“Rookie mistake,” Natasha says, but she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Come on. Let’s walk for a bit.”

The two of you stroll along the snowy paths, the playful mood giving way to something softer. The park is quieter now, the light fading as the afternoon stretches toward evening. The snow-covered trees and twinkling lights give everything a magical quality, like you’ve stepped into a postcard.

“Thanks for this,” you say after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “I really needed it.”

Natasha shrugs, but there’s a warmth in her eyes. “You’ve been looking a little stir-crazy. Figured you could use a change of scenery.”

“Still,” you insist, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You didn’t have to. You could’ve left me to rot in my boredom.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” she asks, her tone light but sincere. The word “friend” hangs in the air, and you realize just how much it means to you. Natasha isn’t the easiest person to get close to, but moments like this remind you how much she cares in her own quiet way.

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of Natasha sneaking marshmallows from a street vendor selling hot chocolate. She insists they don’t count as stealing since she bought a drink, but the grin on her face says otherwise. You both sit on a park bench, steaming cups in hand, and watch as the first stars begin to appear in the darkening sky.

“This is perfect,” you say softly, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping into your gloves.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, her voice equally quiet. “It is.”

The two of you sit there for a long time, the world around you fading into the background. For once, there’s no mission, no chaos, no looming threat—just you, your best friend, and the peaceful beauty of a snowy December evening.

You’re mid-sip of your hot chocolate, savoring the warmth, when something smacks into the back of your head with a dull thud. You nearly spill the drink in surprise and spin around, only to see a rogue snowball disintegrating against the back of the bench. Natasha freezes mid-sip, her eyes widening slightly, and you catch the faintest twitch of a smirk.

Before you can react, a chorus of giggles erupts from somewhere nearby. A group of kids stands a few feet away, their faces half-hidden by scarves and hats, but their mischievous intent is clear. One of them holds up another snowball like it’s a trophy, daring you to respond.

Natasha, ever the professional, turns her head slowly toward you, her expression unreadable. “Well, Y/N,” she says, setting her cup down with deliberate care. “You’re not going to let them get away with that, are you?”

You blink at her. “What? They’re just kids—”

Before you can finish the sentence, Natasha has already scooped up a handful of snow, molded it into a perfect sphere, and lobbed it with expert precision. The kid with the snowball barely dodges, letting out a shriek of laughter.

“Natasha!” you hiss, horrified and impressed in equal measure.

“They started it,” she says with a shrug, but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s fully committed to this impromptu war. Another snowball flies past her head, and she ducks, motioning for you to follow her lead. “Come on, rookie. Don’t make me fight this battle alone.”

Reluctantly—and with a ridiculous amount of glee—you scramble off the bench and join her behind the nearest tree. Snowballs fly back and forth in a chaotic flurry. The kids are surprisingly coordinated for their age, and you’re pretty sure one of them is an aspiring pitcher with how fast their throws are.

Natasha, however, is in her element. She moves like she’s on a battlefield, dodging snowballs and retaliating with almost supernatural accuracy. You’re not sure whether to laugh or be concerned when she starts calling out tactics like, “Flank left!” and “Suppressive fire!”

“Nat, they’re children!” you gasp between laughs, barely dodging another well-aimed projectile.

“They’re ruthless!” she counters, narrowly avoiding a snowball to the face. “We don’t negotiate with snowball terrorists.”

Before you can respond, one of the kids sneaks up behind you and pelts you square in the back. You yelp, spinning around to see a tiny figure bolting back toward their group. Natasha cackles, actually cackles, at your expense.

“Oh, you’re going down,” you mutter, grabbing as much snow as you can carry. You charge toward the kids, who scatter in every direction, shrieking with laughter. Natasha follows close behind, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

The battle rages on for what feels like forever, until finally, you and Natasha call a truce—mostly because you’re both out of breath and can’t feel your fingers anymore. The kids cheer in victory, clearly declaring themselves the winners, and you wave a white scarf in surrender.

As you and Natasha trudge back to the bench, covered in snow and utterly exhausted, you can’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I just went to war with a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

Natasha collapses onto the bench beside you, brushing snow out of her hair. “Hey, they were formidable opponents. You held your own.”

“I think I got frostbite on my dignity,” you joke, shaking your head.

“You’ll live,” she says, smirking. “Barely.”

You’re about to retort when a new sound catches your attention—a sharp, metallic clunk followed by a muffled curse. Both of you whip around, instinctively alert. A man in a Santa suit has somehow managed to get his foot stuck in a trash can, and he’s hopping around trying to free himself, looking utterly ridiculous.

You and Natasha stare for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s the kind of uncontrollable, tears-in-your-eyes laughter that leaves you gasping for air.

“I can’t—” Natasha wheezes, clutching her stomach. “This is too much.”

The man finally notices the two of you watching and glares. “What? Haven’t you ever seen Santa in distress?” he snaps, still hopping. That only makes you laugh harder.

“Should we help him?” you manage to ask between giggles.

Natasha shakes her head, still laughing. “I think he’s got it under control.”

As if to prove her wrong, Santa trips over his own feet and falls flat on his back with a loud oof. Your laughter dies instantly, replaced by a mix of horror and concern.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, rushing over to help. “Are you okay?”

The man groans but waves you off. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just…bad day, you know?”

Natasha joins you, her amusement giving way to a more subdued grin. “Do you need a hand?”

Santa looks up at her, then at you, and sighs. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” Natasha says, offering him her hand. “But I will help you up.”

Between the two of you, you manage to get him back on his feet and free his boot from the trash can. He mutters a thanks before trudging off, still grumbling under his breath.

As you return to the bench, you and Natasha exchange a look and burst out laughing again.

“This is officially the weirdest day ever,” you say, shaking your head.

“Just another day in New York,” Natasha replies, her eyes twinkling. “Admit it, though—it’s been fun.”

You smile, brushing a stray snowflake off your coat. “Yeah. It really has.”

As the last of your laughter fades and the chill starts to settle back in, you hear something unusual over the faint hum of city noise: voices raised in song. You and Natasha exchange curious looks, both craning your necks toward the sound.

Down the path, a group of cheerful carolers bundled in scarves and hats stands beneath a lamp post, singing their hearts out. Their harmonized rendition of Jingle Bells drifts through the snowy air, lifting the spirits of passersby. It’s such a quintessentially wholesome scene that you can’t help but smile.

“Should we join them?” you joke, nudging Natasha with your elbow. “Spread some holiday cheer?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You? Singing? I thought you said you didn’t do public humiliation.”

“Funny,” you deadpan, though you’re smiling. “I could totally out-sing you.”

“Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” she says, her smirk widening.

Before you can retort, one of the carolers—an older woman with a kind face and an almost suspicious amount of holiday cheer—spots you both watching. Her eyes light up, and before you can bolt, she’s heading your way, flanked by a few other singers.

“Hello there!” she says, her voice warm and inviting. “You two look like you’re having a wonderful evening. Care to join us? We’re spreading some Christmas joy around the park.”

“Oh, we’re just here to—” you start, but Natasha cuts you off.

“Absolutely,” she says, grinning at your look of betrayal. “We’d love to.”

The woman beams, clapping her hands together. “Wonderful! Come on, we’ve got songbooks for you.”

“Natasha,” you hiss as she pulls you along, “what are you doing? We can’t sing.”

“Speak for yourself,” she replies, her tone light but teasing. “Besides, it’s not about being good. It’s about having fun.”

You groan but let her drag you toward the group. Someone hands you a songbook, and before you know it, you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Natasha, surrounded by cheerful strangers belting out holiday classics.

The first song is Deck the Halls, and to your surprise, you’re not entirely terrible. Natasha, of course, sings with the kind of confidence that makes you wonder if she’s secretly been trained in covert caroling as part of her spy work. She’s not half bad, though her occasional exaggerated vibrato earns some stifled laughs from the group.

When the carolers move on to Silent Night, the vibe softens, and you can’t help but get swept up in the moment. Snow drifts lazily around you, the lights of the park twinkling like stars. Natasha glances at you mid-verse, and the rare softness in her expression makes your heart swell.

“See?” she whispers when the song ends, her breath misting in the cold air. “Not so bad, huh?”

You roll your eyes but smile. “I guess it’s kind of nice.”

The next song is Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and that’s when things take a turn for the hilarious. The carolers encourage everyone to get a little animated, adding silly gestures and sound effects. Natasha, to your utter shock, fully commits. She even throws in a dramatic point to herself when the lyrics mention “reindeer games,” earning a round of applause from the group.

“Who are you and what have you done with Natasha Romanoff?” you tease between verses.

“What can I say?” she quips, shrugging. “I thrive under pressure.”

By the time the group launches into Frosty the Snowman, you’re both fully immersed. You try to outdo each other with increasingly ridiculous antics, from fake tap-dancing to over-the-top hand gestures. The carolers laugh and cheer you on, and soon even passersby are stopping to watch and join in.

At one point, Natasha grabs your arm and twirls you around like you’re in a ballroom dance. You stumble, nearly knocking over a poor guy carrying his dog, and the entire group erupts into laughter.

“I’m blaming you if I fall,” you warn, breathless from laughing so hard.

“You’ll be fine,” Natasha replies, smirking. “You’re more coordinated than you look.”

The impromptu performance ends with a rousing rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, complete with clapping and stomping. By the time the carolers disperse, you’re grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

“That was ridiculous,” you say as you and Natasha walk back to the bench, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots.

“Ridiculously fun,” she counters, her grin matching yours. “Admit it, you loved it.”

“Fine,” you concede, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “It was fun. But don’t expect me to make this a regular thing.”

“Noted,” she says, her tone light. Then, after a pause, she adds, “You’ve got a decent voice, though.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she replies, smirking. “Now, come on. Let’s find something else to do before you start getting bored again.”

As you walk off together, snow falling gently around you, you realize that this has been one of the best days you’ve had in a long time. And it’s all thanks to Natasha—and her unexpected knack for turning the mundane into something extraordinary.

By the time you and Natasha return to the compound, the warmth of the interior feels like heaven. You both stomp the snow off your boots and shed your damp outer layers near the door, collapsing onto the couch in the main living room like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Remind me to never carol in the snow again,” you groan, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

“You loved it,” Natasha counters, stretching her legs out on the coffee table. She looks just as tired as you feel, though her smirk suggests she’s still riding the high of the day’s events.

Before you can retort, the sound of footsteps pulls your attention. Steve strides in, looking every bit the curious big brother. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of you both sprawled out like overworked elves.

“Rough mission?” he jokes, folding his arms.

“Worse,” Natasha deadpans. “We were ambushed by snowball terrorists, then conscripted into a caroling group.”

Steve blinks, his confusion quickly replaced by amusement. “Snowball terrorists? Caroling? Is this some kind of inside joke, or—?”

“Oh, it’s very real,” you cut in, sitting up. “I’ve never seen Nat throw snowballs with such precision. It’s terrifying.”

“She’s a trained assassin,” Steve points out, chuckling. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Before the conversation can continue, Sam and Bucky wander in, followed closely by Wanda and Clint. Within minutes, the living room is buzzing with questions and laughter as you recount your afternoon adventures. Natasha, surprisingly, doesn’t downplay any of it, even going so far as to mimic your disastrous attempt at dancing during Frosty the Snowman.

“I swear, she almost took out a guy and his dog,” Natasha says, barely holding back her laughter.

“Did not!” you protest, though you’re laughing too.

“Okay, okay,” Clint interrupts, grinning. “This sounds like the most ridiculous thing I’ve missed all week. But since you two had your fun, what’s the plan for tonight? Because I’m not letting you hog all the entertainment.”

“We’re exhausted,” you point out, slumping further into the couch. “Nat and I earned a break.”

“Perfect,” Wanda chimes in, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s have a movie night. Something fun and festive.”

“Yes!” Sam agrees, already heading for the kitchen. “I’ll make popcorn. But I’m not watching any boring black-and-white Christmas movies.”

“Don’t knock It’s a Wonderful Life,” Steve says, looking mildly offended.

“Let’s take a vote,” Clint suggests, grabbing the remote. “Majority rules.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to agree on a lineup of holiday classics, starting with Home Alone and ending with Elf. The team scatters briefly to grab snacks, blankets, and other essentials, and when they return, the living room feels like the coziest place on Earth.

Natasha claims the corner of the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to her. You oblige, pulling a blanket over your legs as Sam passes around bowls of popcorn. Wanda curls up in an armchair, while Clint takes the floor with a pillow he’s clearly stolen from someone’s room. Steve and Bucky settle in on the other couch, and even Bruce makes an appearance, looking relaxed for once.

“Ready?” Clint asks, remote in hand.

“Hit it,” Natasha says, smirking.

As the first movie begins, the room fills with laughter and commentary. Sam and Clint provide running jokes during every slapstick scene, while Steve occasionally tries (and fails) to explain the historical inaccuracies of certain films. Natasha, to your surprise, seems to enjoy herself the most, her rare laughter ringing out at the most unexpected moments.

During a particularly chaotic scene in Home Alone, where Kevin sets up traps for the burglars, Bucky leans over to Steve. “Why does this kid remind me of Nat?” he asks, deadpan.

Steve snorts. “Because she’d do the exact same thing, only with way more efficiency.”

“I heard that,” Natasha calls out, not even looking away from the screen.

As the night goes on, everyone starts to relax completely, the day’s stress melting away. At some point, Wanda conjures a tiny flurry of snowflakes above the coffee table, much to everyone’s delight. Clint insists on using them as makeshift targets, and the ensuing chaos nearly derails the movie marathon.

By the time Elf rolls around, you’re half-asleep, leaning against Natasha’s shoulder. She doesn’t seem to mind, her own posture relaxed as she absentmindedly munches on popcorn.

“This was a good idea,” you mumble, your eyes growing heavy.

Natasha hums in agreement. “Told you. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.”

As the movie’s final credits roll, the group lingers, reluctant to let the night end. Clint and Sam argue about who made the best jokes, while Steve insists on cleaning up despite everyone’s protests. Natasha gently nudges you awake, her expression softer than usual.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she says quietly. “Time for bed.”

You nod groggily, letting her pull you to your feet. As you say your goodnights and head to your room, you can’t help but smile. The day might’ve started with boredom, but it ended with something much better: laughter, friendship, and a reminder of how lucky you are to have found this family.

[pompomchihuahua]

Genya Shinazugawa: A Fish In a Birdcage

It's my favorite boy's birthday and today I want to celebrate why he's possibly one of the most talented characters in the show while still being considered one of the "weakest."

In case it wasn't immediately obvious, Genya is my favorite little guy from Demon Slayer. Everything from his design to his abilities to his personality and story just speak to me.

For this analysis I wanna focus on a little bit of everything, starting with his design.

So from the get-go, the first things you notice about the boy are the huge ass scar on his face and his scrunkly little mohawk. The scar immediately tells you that he has a history. It's an unspoken message of survival and overcoming suffering.

As for the mohawk, well you have to look a little deeper into how Japanese media portrays hair. For early media, it's a sign of refinement and status. To the point that one of the many hallmarks of evil in Japanese folklore is unkempt hair. For the mohawk specifically, it's a symbol of rebellion and a strong, edgy personality.

His clothing is purple and black. Interestingly, purple was, for a long time, banned by commoners to wear as it was exceedingly hard and expensive to get ahold of. By late Edo and early Meiji the tides changed to where it became quite fashionable among common folk to wear purple to the point it got the nickname "old purple" or kodai murasaki. (you can read about it here) But purple can also represent strength.

His sharp eyes, small irises, and furrowed brow all point to a very aggressive design. And! I'd like to note that he's using a katana here, which I'll get back to later in another post!

So! Now, we see Genya's traded out his katana for his iconic gun along with a wakizashi (a shortsword used by samurai primarily for finishing blows, fitting as that's exactly how Genya uses it in canon).

There's a modern misconception that samurai were wholly against the use of firearms during their active periods, but history and art show quite the opposite (here). And seeing as Demon Slayer takes place during the Taisho era, when Japan was seeing a lot of "modernization" and were specifically adopting a lot of Western values, it makes sense to implement a character using a more modern and Western weapon (even his outfit is more of a western style with his pants being a straight cut instead of the traditional samurai hakama that the others wear!).

His hair is grown out and more tamed though still in a mohawk style showing that while he's softened, he still has a strong personality and rebellious edge. Another thing I find cool is that the author gave an in canon reason for Genya's hair length in the Kimetsu Gakuen extra; he uses it to gauge the strength and direction of the wind to redirect his shots.

We also see that he's shot up in height and filled out in physique, a very nice nod to how his demon eating abilities affected his body in the long term.

Overall, Genya's design is efficient without giving everything away. It leaves out the subtle details like his hidden gentle nature and his sharp mind and good heart; which I'll elaborate on now.

One misconception I see floating around a lot is that Genya is below average intelligence. This is probably for three reasons: the extra in the Kimetsu Gakuen universe where Sanemi tells Genya to "get better at his math" and the part in the data book where it says Genya is "never calculating." The third reason is that there's a bit of a stereotype that thug/punk=stupid.

But in Kimetsu Gakuen proper we see that Genya is actually making really good grades.

But test grades aren't everything! Even in canon we find out that Genya is incredibly observant. During the Hashira training arc, Genya says this: "Well, not that Himejima-san is exactly good at teaching it. You need to watch and learn and swipe it for yourself, all right?"

This implies that Genya taught himself the Repetitive Motion technique by just watching Himejima do it. He is a master marksman and described as the ace of his high school shooting club able to make real time adjustments to his aim based on how the wind blows his hair.

Not calculating just means he's not one for scheming, not that he's incapable of critical thought. And Sanemi getting onto him for his math scores is him being a hardass as Genya is within the top 15 in his grade.

He is still a child at heart, something he desperately tries to hide and that is readily apparent in the Japanese version. Specifically in the way he oscillates between using "Nii-chan" (the childish way you'd refer to your older brother, as expected in especially young children or women) and "Aniki" (the rougher way of saying it, translates more as "big bro").

As for his gentle nature, I already made a whole post on how I believe Genya stepped in as the homemaker of the Shinazugawa family. (Which you can read here) He's also described in the data book as regaining his "gentle nature," telling the audience that he was a soft hearted boy growing up.

Look at his soft smile here when he sees that Nezuko is okay! He genuinely cares about their well-being despite Tanjirou having what Genya desperately wants but can't have: family, strength, the ability to use breathing.

He apologizes to Kanata and steps in to help the caterpillar girls in one winged butterfly. He may have a brash exterior, but he's got a heart of gold.

However, out of anyone, no one hates Genya more than Genya hates himself.

Which brings me to my next and main topic: Genya's abilities and how it makes him a fish in a birdcage.

From the very first introduction of Genya's ability, the very narrative sets Genya up as "talentless." "He doesn't have the physical talent to use breathing techniques." As a result, his nichirin blade never changes color. He makes up for this by using his gun, but when he's put into a tight situation, that's when his more unique ability comes into play.

Before we get into that, I want to delve into what the breathing techniques are and what they're supposed to do. For that we go all the way back to the beginning where we meet Makomo who says this: "Total Concentration Breathing accelerates your blood circulation and your heart rate. That causes your body temperature to spike, making you as strong as a demon while being human." So we can conclude that the goal of TCB is to achieve demonic strength.

Which brings me to Genya's most unique and prominent ability; Genya can eat demons to temporarily gain the powers of a demon without fully becoming one. So, if Genya can't use breathing but can gain the strength of a demon anyway, then there should be no problem, right?

Well, it seems that the demon slayer corps is built upon a rather strict honor code and places a heavy emphasis on tradition. Genya not being able to use breathing and having to rely on tainted, evil power, to have to stoop down to a demon's level and consume flesh, in the corps' eyes it makes him lesser. And Genya seems overly aware of this.

He says that Shinobu makes a disgusted face when she sees him and he likely relates it back to him being breathless and eating demons. In one winged butterfly, after he's unable to find the words to reassure another demon slayer he thinks this: "He really was broken. He couldn't do a single thing properly. This was probably why his brother wouldn't look at him."

Hell, even Inosuke throws in his two cents, calling Genya a "wimp" for being unable to use breathing techniques (of which Genya gets really defensive about and starts a fight). He thinks of himself as weak in the infinity castle and unable to really do anything until he remembers Tanjirou's encouragement.

It's safe to say that Genya's self esteem is in the toilet.

He, arguably, has access to a technique that's far more potent than TCB in that it not only gives him the strength of a demon but also gives him the healing and abilities of a demon without the downside of actually being a demon. But because it isn't TCB, he's constantly put down and belittled.

He's meant to fly to the top of the cliff when his real strength lies in swimming up the waterfall. He can still get to the same places but he's looked down upon for his methods.

But there's a legend about a carp that swam upstream against all odds, that leapt up the falls of the Yellow River at Dragon Gate and became a Dragon. It's a story of perseverance and transformation and it's one Genya achieves in his last moments.

Genya achieves his ultimate power; unlocking a blood demon art of his own while still retaining his humanity (and yes, he is still human at this point, Kokushibou confirms as much). It's the ultimate demon hunting technique, parasitic roots that paralyze the target and suck the blood, preventing the target from unleashing their own BDA.

His only thoughts in that moment being that he won't let any of them die. Genya sacrificed everything for his brother, ultimately achieving the goal he had when he was just a child: to protect his Nii-chan. And his brother finally lets his guard down to, switching to the more babyish language (he refers to himself as Nii-chan, saying "Nii-chan will fix this") and it's only then that Genya lets his guard down too. In his last moments, Genya got to be his true self.

A kind, fiercely protective, and loving boy with strength that went beyond what was ever expected of him. He is, possibly one of the strongest characters in theory with so much unexplored potential. His design is solid, telling viewers a lot without giving everything away, his story is compelling (especially to people who are gifted in the "wrong ways") and his personality is complex.

There's a reason I can make so many posts about this character alone and why I have more planned for the bestest boy. But for now! Happy birthday Genya!

[identifying-cat-phenotypes]

question!! does a cat's eye color have any impact on what their phenotype would be, or is it a separate thing? if it's separate, do certain phenotypes tend to have certain eye colors (ie black self with green eyes), or is that also totally separate?

It depends. A lot.

For the most part, we don't really know EXACTLY what causes the differences across eyes (well. obviously its pigmentation and refraction. but outside of that? we have basic ideas but nothing too concrete)

We know a lot of cats have similar (yet changing!!!) eye colors due to a common ancestor. However, they aren't really linked to each gene. Well, except for the albinism locus, DBE (including the variations), and white spotting. But it isn't about that right now.

(If you're interested in cats, I suggest reading the linked material. Includes some silly studies about cats. Love them. <3)

In to summerize in short: not really. The slightly longer answer? No, but sometimes? It's dependent on a ton.

signed with invisible ink, mod robin

[shmowder]

In case you missed it, Game Rant did an interview with Nikolay Dybowski about Pathologic 3. Here is the link for it.

And here are the bits that stood out the most to me:

Q: The non-linearity of time and how it will be related to the nature of the Town are also core story components. How did this affect design and direction?

A: Connecting non-linear time with a long, narrative-heavy story that involves many characters and cause-and-effect chains would be extremely difficult. We focused on what the player feels in the moment rather than on gathering information in the right order. The latter approach works well in shorter formats like Her Story or 12 Minutes, but in Pathologic, it would be overwhelming.

We wanted players to feel like “everything, everywhere, all at once”—similar to Billy Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse-Five. Different versions of reality coexist simultaneously, creating a “quantum” feeling for the player. Look at the time travel mechanic as an opportunity to correct mistakes, or even to make deliberate mistakes in order to unlock new paths and ideas. It is like a "sanctioned save scum."

-

Q: Conversely, how will it (Pathologic 3) connect to and consider the events and characters in Pathologic 2?

A: Consider it as two subjective retellings of the same events. This is the same Town, the same twelve days, the same participants and events that occurred in the Haruspex’s story. But this is a different perspective. Like two witnesses recounting the same event in Rashomon, the stories vary greatly, each focusing on different details. Finally, we always give our heroes the right to make honest mistakes, forget, and even lie. Every narrator is an unreliable narrator.

-

Q: How did Pathologic’s previous philosophical explorations help inform or play into the narrative and themes here?

A: Everything we now see as true and valuable, we’ve kept. Everything we’ve outgrown, like childhood clothes, we either reimagined and reinterpreted to give these ideas new meaning, or let go of them. After all, we’ve grown a lot (hopefully, along with the industry). When I first conceived Pathologic, I was 21 and completely alone. Now I’m 47, surrounded by incredibly talented people who enrich this universe as much as I do, and that makes a difference.

We’ve kept the idea of the tragedy of utopian projects. We kept the idea that the plague is a voice of the natural order—one that the thinking human mind cannot accept—and that it has its own truth. We retained the belief that evil cannot be defeated with its own tools or outplayed on its field; yet it can be defeated realistically in a different, orthogonal way. In another dimension.

-

Q: It’s mentioned that the Bachelor is searching for an immortal man in Pathologic 3. Can you say if this is in reference to Mark Immortell?

A: No, there’s no connection between Simon Kain (one of the town’s rulers) and Mark Immortell (the director of the town theater). Mark is a clown. He awkwardly mimics Simon, parodying him, which is why he takes on this pseudonym. He's fully aware that he’s a jester, and the gesture itself is ironic.

-

Q: What do you hope players will take away most from Pathologic 3?

A: The hope that humanity remains a promising and capable species.

-

Also, new game pictures and screenshots dropped:

(some are old ones I forgot to post)

[starpros-sunshine]

Eichi gives away the mask so easily because it was never meant to be an "engagement ring" like you delulu wataeis imagined it to be lmao. It was wataru saying that he will continue playing tsumugi clown role in fine and won't leave it for hokuto's mother troupe after graduation. Do you dumb fucks even read the stories? Eichi didn't even understand tf that mask meant when wataru gave it to him and wataru referenced fucking tsumugi in his "proporsal". I dunno why the f you think it's ok to lie about "! EnDiNG wItH wAtAeI EnGaGeMEnT" when the chapter it happened wasn't even close to the end of ep:link. Cope

PS: how do you live with the fact that Eichi clearly admitted to never being in love in his life and Wataru said that even though Eichi likes him, he still can easily discard him for the sake of his objectives?

I love you anon thank you for giving me a nice reason to ramble again beautiful ask 10/10 I'm sorry this is probably not how you hoped this would go but this is such a funny block of text delightful really thank you for the enrichment please marry me

But okay yes now to get down to the actual ask just to disclaim I am solely relying on translations seeing as I do not speak japanese well enough to understant the original text so if anyone has anything to add to this or to correct me on please feel free to do so.

Now to get started I'm not sure if one could say Eichi gave away the mask "So easily" seeing as he claimed that it was "a hard choice to make"? Which, as one might know, implies unease with an idea and pondering and debating and a general amount of thinking behind a decision so? I know this isn't really the main focus of this ask but I'm just a tad miffed with the semantics of it is all. And in either case giving the mask back to Wataru while expecting it back still shows a certain degree of trust in their relationship it wouldn't have been such a big deal for him (as it apparently was) if the mask didn't have a lot of sentimental value to him (the both of them really if we look at the whole exchange).

Now to the claim that the mask was "only" Watarus promise to stay with fine and "continue playing Tsumugis clown role". This is not entirely incorrect. Regarding the acting troupe and staying with fine bit at least.

I'm assuming this bit in EP:Link Deadend/7 is what you are referencing, and I see where you're coming from. But the bluebird line

from literally three dialogue lines further down, which references this line of dialogue (notorious Eichi line everyone should be familiar with)

kind of somewhat really recontextualises that? Because you see this is a reference to a fairytale about a pair of siblings and they get sent out by a nice fairy to find the bluebird of happiness for her sad daughter to make her happy again so they both go on an adventure and travel far and search and search but they can not find the bluebird of happiness and then when they return home again, disappointed because they couldn't find the blue bird, they realise only one night has actually passed and the journey was probably just a dream. But then their eyes fall upon their pet dove in it's cage which appears blue all of a sudden and so they gift it to the fairies sad daughter which becomes happy again and sets the bird free. The real bluebird of happiness is a dove. At least in the version of the story I'm familiar with but I mean everyone sees the symbolism right? It's. very hard to miss.

And then dropping this?

I'm not sure how to say this properly but in the overall context this makes it pretty clear that Tsumugi has nothing to do with this anymore this is Fully between Wataru and Eichi. And I am the last person to dismiss Tsumugis significance in the course of Wataeis relationship as characters I will be among the first to protest when someone dismisses the importance of Tsumugis and Eichis relationship in favour of some image they have of Wataei but he has nothing to do with this one.

Yes Tsumugi gets namedropped but - again - I don't really see how that would lessen the sentiment Wataru is triying to convey here? Because. Yes. Why wouldn't he mention Tsumugi?

The entire conversation pretty much boils down to "Yes I was initially only in this because I thought I could replace Tsumugis role in your life and then I wanted to leave but we have spent so much time together that I realised that that is definitely not working out because I really do love you. I love you as a teammate; I love you as a friend; I love you as a person and I am very angry at myself for not managing to get that into your head. So please allow me to stay with you for as long as you'll have me." And then also Eichi not understanding because he has the emotional self awareness of a very emotionally unaware loaf of bread and also because he hates himself that is a very big thing about his character huge part of his character arc actually that he. you know? Hates himself? And feels guitly for his actions during the war? And doesn't think he deserves love and companionship? Which is why Wataru wanting to stay with him for him and not for some twisted form of revenge is such an alien concept to him? Because he is projecting his insecurities onto Wataru? As one is wont to do when they hate themself? "EiChi Didn'T eVen UnDErStanD WhAt tf ThAT Mask MEAnt" Yeah. That's. That's the point? So he can think about it and come to that conclusion himself which works as a keymoment in his characters journey from hating life and himself to enjoying being alive and wanting to live on because of the people he's surrounded with? He literally explains why he didn't immediately understand the mask during the EP:Link Epilogue/4

And to get back to the "I dunno why the f you think it's ok to lie about "! EnDiNG wItH wAtAeI EnGaGeMEnT" about which I have two things to say:

"Lying" implies further intent and an effort. Neither of which exist in this case.

He literally went down on one knee while making a big proclamation of offering himself to Eichi with a very personal item that works as a symbol for their commitment to each other on a starlit rooftop. The comparison writes itself.

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joke

And then I expected there to be a proper reason given and instead you proceed to follow that up with "when the chapter it happened wasn't even close to the end of ep:link". I know the shame is on me for expecting something sensical from an ask which has been near constant in it's lack of correct statements but such is human nature I suppose. And you are not wrong. Deadend/7 isn't very close to the end of EP:Link. That is true.

But do you know what Is very close to the end of EP:Link? The Epilogue Chapters 3-5.

Do you know what the content of those chapters is? I do. Very well actually :)

(Eichi literally explains why he didn't get it)

So if this answers your "Do you dumb fucks even read the stories?" questions, Yes. And I think I'm a lot better at it than you. So I'd say I'm coping quite well over here :p

PS: Regarding your PS, I take the "I've never been in love before so I wouldn't know" comment with a lot of humour actually as an aroace person who's emotional self awareness also ends at "good" and "Not good" I think it's very funny all things considered especially because he mentioned the loving Wataru thing several times before that and I'm generally of the belief that actions speak louder than words and also am in a happy long term relationship with the concept of "Reading Subtext". So please excuse me for not breaking down in tears everytime someone reminds me of that one singuar line of text in one of my favourite all time enstars stories that came out three years ago which also brought us the single best card set in the entire game

as well as absolute banger dialogue such as

Among others <33

And there are soooooo many other examples of wataei dialogue that simply make me swoon but I have already had to take out so many of the one's I wish I could put here so this wouldn't get "Do you love the colour of the sky" long

And also, regarding your "Wataru said that even though Eichi likes him, he still can easily discard him for the sake of his objectives" I'll just say that no he absolutely could not. I mean he'd say that and if pull comes to shove and he has no other option then he might seriously consider it but may I mention that Wataru was gone for a few days at most but really not that long of a time during Sanctuary and Eichi stopped considering being a normal rational person that doesn't leave helpless 17 year olds in the midst of a construction site. Very different situation but I feel like it's worth mentioninh here. Another example is Eichis almost not being able to go through with the war because of Wataru. Wataru had to actively come and tell Eichi to go through with it. Wataru isn't the reason Eichi started the war, that is wrong, but he is the reason Eichi almost didn't finish it. and during the war era that was his Main objective. Again I'm part of the fraction "actions speak louder than words" Show don't tell and all that, but even the words are pushing it.

And that concludes my essay :)

[cabi-leodrann]

Heheheheheheheh Rainworld FanArt

I did this one a while ago, but didn't post it because I asked a professor to give me a feed back, and it just... put me off of it. When I was actually pretty proud of it!

Anyway, it's here now! Bone Apple Teeth uwu

[etapereine]

.

[ebitenpura]

the funny thing about jadus is everyone likes his concept but not his actual character, me included

[statementlou]

the funniest thing about the chicken thing it's that the girl didn't even meant it like that, she was high and thought it would be funny to ask for a recipe since he's not the best cook, like bro you made the association, it's all on you baby

funniest possible scenario would have been if she just wanted a recipe and Louis was just referring to this

and it was just

all around....

[babacontainsmultitudes]

[just venting a bit into the void you understand you understand 😌] Lately I've been feeling very caught between "I have a lot of thoughts on Sparrow and Normal and all that with the ending and teen talk and feel like I need to get them out and voice them for my own piece of mind and resolution" and "I am lacking the strength and energy to actually sit down and write it all out and kind of really just want to fully move on to other things (AUs, fics, anything else)" but my brain can't seem to commit to either and that's quite frustrating cause it's just left me very restless. *Sigh*. Idk! Just needed to complain about that a bit ig, it's silly but this is what has been ailing me as of late.

[clowndensation]

one thing i will say, it is fun getting to play another character who's more sympathetic to/somewhat believes in the chantry. 8 million years playing a dalish elf has conditioned me to the same exact relationship building every single time, but inesca is:

neutral on templars, or at the very least believes they're good/bad on a case by case basis, and have good intentions as an institution

raised andrastian, and is bone-deep terrified at the idea that after rejecting andrastianism in favor of joining a dalish clan and learning about the evanuris, he's being pushed back into a faith that he's publicly disavowed, but privately has no clue as to what is true/correct.

extremely sheltered from most politics, and thus intensely interested in anyone who's willing to share their experience-based opinion with him, regardless of what that opinion is.

[clownsnake]

I don’t think hyeonseong needed to remember dokja’s order to think about him if something goes wrong. I think he’s just always thinking abt dokja

and I love him for that

[zapsoda]

jake was no worse than any of the other alpha kids. everything jake did was just as bad if not Less bad than the things jane and dirk (and to a lesser extent, roxy) did to one another . read this again 👍

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

look I'm sorry, I really am. but if you watch The Husbands of River Song and interpret that as being a definitive picture of what River is like as a person... you're wrong. and you've missed the point.

[magnoliamyrrh]

okay yea sorry no more posting abt shit things tonight after this but like 20 years ago a dude who was on the fbi said hey a lot of these rich people politicians infleuncers whoever they have these islands all over the world where they do horrible shit to children and whatnot and often times its all used as blackmail and some ppl are even forced to do this shit as blackmail and to be part of these clubs theyve got

20 years ago. crazy cookoo conspiracy theory right? ohh just some nonsense oo theres no way

right. welp. two decades later and we all lived through the epstein stuff ey? weve all see the sheer extent of the connections, the photos, one of the literal islands, him being taken off the map, and the silence,,, ey?