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gallusrostromegalus · 18 days ago

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Random question, could you give some ideas on Irish names your family may have in the 1950-60s? I got a character with an Irish grandpa with 9 brothers and sisters (3 brothers and 6 sisters) and I only got the oldest sister name (soairse) and his name (Caine). I guess I could just name the rest some form of jack and Margret since those seem to be popular, but I wanted to see if there were some “interesting” names you found in your family tree that maybe one of the siblings got named after some ancestor?

Firstly for the sake of clarity: I'm American, not Irish. All of my ancestors for the last 4-5 generations have lived here, and while I like learning about the language/music/culture, I am absolutely not an expert. I HIGHLY recommend getting a sensitivity reader, I'm sure someone in the comments can wave at you if they're willing to take on the job.

Second, Triple-check the spelling, pronunciation, meaning and provenance of any names you do choose, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TRUST ANY BABY NAME WEBSITES, they're basically all AI slop at best. The best written-down lists and meanings are actually on Wikipedia.

Third: If you want to learn more Irish names, you can look up the names of like, any Irish musician or artist. I think spotify still has Genre Playlists, if you look up "Irish Folk" you'll get a shitload of names of Real Irish people- and hey, if Hirohiko Akari can name all his characters after 80's pop bands, you can make a subtle ref to modern musicians. Also you'll get a bunch of fun music! --- So while I was writing this, I somewhat departed from the intent of this response, and am putting the last point under a cut because the post got long. And weird.

So there is a thing in Irish-american families, and I think it's true in the British isles still where there are "Family Names", where the same set of first names is recycled over and over and over across generations. My dad's family has exactly three male names that they rotate through over the generations: Roy, Emmet and Jack*. In that order, where the son takes the father's first name as his middle name. My great-grandfather was Roy Jack Surname, my grandfather was Emmet Roy Surname, and my dad is Jack Emmet. My sister and I were AFAB, so the names skipped us and my male cousin in my generation is now Roy Jack. In the event that there are more than three living men with the same surname in the family, that's when they start reaching for the Given Names Of In-Laws We Like and might introduce a new name into the lineup.

*Names changed for privacy above and hereafter, but you get the idea.

So if any of your characters are descendants of that grandpa? They may share a first or middle name with one of his siblings. in fact, they may share the SAME first and middle name with a living relative, and be called "Junior" or "Young Firstname" to distinguish them from the relative they were named after.

My mom's family is from England and has a similar tradition: any new girl born into that family gets a name that is based on the name of one of her living female relatives, usually by sharing the same first letter or syllable. Elanor after Eloise, Vivian after Virginia, and also Jenny after Virgnia via 'Ginny' and every variation of Margret ever, which there are way more of than you'd think.

I cannot recommend doing what they did with Male names though: Name literally every boy Bob* for like five generations, and distinguish individuals by middle name (Bob-Howard and Bob-Benjamin) surname (Bob-Jones and Bob-Bailey) or Honorific (Captain Bob, Dr. Bob, Bob Jr.) when yelling out the kitchen window.

Most families have to good sense to not have the same name repeated in a generation, even if it has a shitload of nicknames. A mother and daughter might both be Margrets (with different nicknames), but two sisters or cousins wouldn't be.

If you've got in-laws you like, but their surname didn't carry over to their kids, you can also just use their surname as a first name! "Regan" is a first and last name, as are Riley and Bailey. This works out in some cases but not in others:

I have a pretty rare surname- last time I checked, there's only 14 people with it worldwide. It's similar to two other VERY COMMON Irish Surnames, but spelled different and from a different region. It's also Very Definitely A Surname- nobody would see my surname alone and think its a firstname.

Since I don't want to bandy it about, we'll pretend that it's "Breathnach", which has a similar vibe.

My Iowa family is Enormous and all descended from my Great-Aunt Lilyanne, Emmet-Roy's sister. Being a good catholic girl, Lillyanne took her husband's surname when she married, and most of her descendants still have that surname, and none have Breathnach.

After the last of my grandfathers grandchildren were born my Iowa family was sad- all but one of Emmet-Roy's grandchildren was female, and my male cousin has his father's surname. Assuming that we would all marry and take our spouses names, the Iowa family despaired that that the Breathnach name would die out!

So one of my second cousins decided that she would Carry On The Family Name, by giving it to the son she was carrying as a Firstname.

Yeah.

Being "Breathnach Surname" is bad enough, but this was compounded by the fact that the Iowa family's surname is Thomas.

YEAH.

My poor cousin Beathnach Thomas, who always has to re-do his paperwork because NOBODY ever puts the names in the correct boxes, who had his first name printed on every jersey he ever had because the uniform place went "that can't be right!", who cant buy his own beer because he's had so many drivers licenses confiscated because liquor store owners and bartenders think his ID is a fake, who has to not only spell his name to everyone he meets, but explain it too.

Then I made it worse.

I ran into cousin Beathnach in Bozeman, Montana quite by accident a few years ago, and while catching up, I mentioned that I was married.

"You know, it's a real hassle, but I'm kind of glad I've got the name I do. I'd heard you sister changed her name, and now with you married- I'd be sad to think we were running out of Breathnachs, you know?" he laughed.

I had to explain.

I married the most wonderful man in the world, who has an extremely common first and last name. Which was kind of a problem, because he shares it with some truly rotten people that always come up during background checks and he has have to explain he's not THAT asshole. It also sounds like and is only a letter or two off a lot of other very common names so his mail is constantly sent awry.

My husband will shortly abandon his too-common-for-comfort surname and become the newest Breathnach, taking the total to 15 (the paperwork takes a while).

...So the name lives on through us anyway, and poor cousin Breathnach Thomas went through all that for no reason. He got very quiet, got up from the table and walked outside to the veranda of the restaurant we were in to stare into the picturesque scenery for a while.

"Well, it's not like people change their first names..." he sighed, when he returned to the table.

"...You know how my sister changed her name? She only changed her first name. She's still a Breathnach." I explained quietly.

I've never seen a man look so haunted.

"I know lots of people who've changed their first names, actually. Mostly for transgender reasons, but a bunch because they just didn't like the one they were given." I added, because if he's going to get his world turned over, it's best to flip it all at once.

His brow furrowed at the ponderous speed of a continental collision, approaching the idea with caution. "...I'll have to think about it."

It's been about a year, but since then, I'll get a text from him every few weeks, auditioning a new given name. I do my best to be fair- I give him the meanings of those names, how they're likely to be misconstrued (some are tolerable annoyances, some pose a safety risk), and if he'd be sharing that name with anybody notable or troublesome. The first few were clearly based on Breathnach, but he began to branch out, and the trend of names has indicated that the idea of Naming Himself is causing my cousin to examine himself, and come to some Realizations (TM).

I realize I have gotten completely off-topic from your actual ask, but I urge you to really get into the nuance of nomencalture, because a name can tell a fascinating story.

#family lore #poor cousin Lastname Firstname

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catmask · 5 months ago

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for full claritys sake - the vods from tonight stream and the previous chillas art stream, i took down from my twitch just now.

tonight while streaming their game the bathhouse, there was a really startling scene that was transmisogynistic that took everyone by surprise. while id seen and knew the stories to the previous two games by chilla we had played live, i had only seen parts of the demo of the bathhouse and had no idea this scene was in the game. i decided during the stream that we wont be finishing the game.

im really sorry to anyone who was there and saw that with me, it was hurtful and i would not want to support a game maker that would say hurtful things about my friends... there were no warnings of any sort about that content in the game so it was really shocking.

i decided to take the vods down so that no one is startled to see that scene, and also because i do not want to direct any interest to chillas arts games with the knowledge i have now. i hope that you understand.

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deerspherestudios · 2 months ago

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Okay my curiosity is killing me, I saw that you said when Atom makes something it is no longer apart of him so he can’t just become anything…. But at the same time I’m so curious what would happen if he attempted to make like a human form?? Like would it end up as an entity entirely separate from him, fail as a whole, or would almost be like two atom’s to deal with? (That would probably get jealous of each other LOL)

He can make our favorite creature so theoretically he could make a person but like, if he doesn’t fully understand the behavioral characteristics of a creature, can he really make it?

IM SO SORRY I HOPE I DID THIS RIGHT I REALLY TRIED TO LOOK THROUGH EVERYTHING 🙏🏻 I love your games so so much! thank you so much for what you’ve created. Your work has genuinely changed my life for the better. 🩷

Aaa thank you for the sweet message and support! I was gonna explain it in this ask how Atom's transmutation ability works when it comes to creating living beings but the explanation was already so long I cut it out. I'm glad I get to explain it here!

To start, I always intended Atom to feel a bit eldritch-y, so this is probably the part where that aspect applies. Below is a clumsy explanation so bear with me, but to jump straight into it, this was what I had in mind:

So I've established they can make anything as long as they're familiar with it. If you're wondering how it learns, it's kinda hinted in-game when Atom mentions learning recipes from Kiara the cook after it dissolved her. I wouldn't know how to explain how that happens but chalk it up to being an alien lifeform! Also!! Think Warm Bodies I guess!!

Is it akin to a god if it's able to create life? Uhhh, shrug! I'm just having fun with them so just brush past this detail haha.

Anyways, the point is they can make stuff! This can be living and non-living things, but the caveat is anything 'living' kinda acts,,, off? The creature will look like it's alive but it feels like terribly programmed AI if you observe them long enough, with things like:

forgetting to breathe or blink

doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't excrete anything

making the wrong noise

doesn't move like it's supposed to

flopping 'dead' for a few seconds before 'rebooting'

will dissolve into the rest of the worms when you're not looking (thus becoming a part of Atom again)

Extremely uncanny, extremely uncomfortable to watch. But if you ask Atom to shapeshift into something else, it'd still be a bunch of worms making up that shape.

For the sake of clarity, let's say you want a cat, that cat is gonna be it's own cat, however strange it might act.

If you want an Atom-shaped cat,, it's gonna look like worms.

I'll just use this doodle and hope it gets the idea across because I'm having difficulty explaining it but I hope it makes sense!

Edit: Actually now that I think about it, it's similar to this scenario from one of sanfangzhu's fancomics titled Reshape! Though,,, canonically the end result isn't gonna be that graceful hahaha.

#astronought vn #atom ask #doodles #also atom is referred to as they/it!!#i have to say amongst all my characters atom is the one you gotta bend logic around the most #but idk i have so much fun with them #weird can of worms looking thang #((also regarding xmas asks i have those queued up for next week!! <3))

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milkywayes · 5 months ago

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We all know the endless frustration of Garrus calibrating in ME2, but the whole situation just tugs at my heartstrings. Not just that he’s trying to keep busy to distract himself from grieving the incredible loss of his team, which he believes to be his fault by turian standards, but just:

“Shepard. Need me for something?” -> [hurriedly and dejectedly declines a personal conversation] -> “I’ll be here if you need me.”

That.

Something about the way he phrases it around need. It gives me the strong impression that he’s not just shutting himself down for his own sake so he doesn’t have to deal with messy grief and self-recrimination and burning, wounded anger before he can do something about it. He’s shutting himself down so he can work. He’s shutting himself down because once he starts actually grieving and processing, it’s over—his productivity, his clarity of mind, his usefulness to Shepard’s team on a suicide mission.

His usefulness to her, full stop.

Shepard has made clear from the start of their reacquaintance that she is depending on him. Someone I trust at my side. He’s got her six. His whole raison d’être, at this point, is to support her and be an asset to her mission. The only reason he is alive, right now, is because she needed him for her mission, and he knows it.

He will not let her down. Not like he let his team down—by ‘letting his feelings get in the way of his better judgment.’ He will not let it happen. He will be there if she needs him, he will be there to depend on, and he will operate as a repressed damn shell of himself in order to do that and be that person for her.

I’ll be here if you need me. Please don’t ask me how I’m doing because if you do, chances are I no longer can, and then what’s the point of me? But I’ll be here. You can depend on that.

And then there’s his action plan for Sidonis, and there’s a lot I could say about that would make this post way too long (turian society: living in service of the collective, the absolute taboo of ‘compromising your team,’ blame lying on the superior officer - and Garrus’ personal crusade: uncompromising justice) all of which play heavily into why he’s trying to execute the guy, but there might also be a note of efficiency in there.

One shot, and then it’s over, and he can be there fully for Shepard. One shot. One inhale, one squeezed trigger, and it’s done, and he can tie up the case and put all his energy into something else: their mission. It’s neat and clean… and not effective and bad for him in the long-term. He might not admit this to himself, and it might take a clear head to come to the conclusion, but the thing is—I’m not sure it matters to him. What matters is that he gets the affair dealt with swiftly so he can do his damn job. For Shepard.

Luckily for him, chances are that it does matter to Shepard. Because for all that he’s locked himself away, she sees him as a friend—or more. Because even when he’s turned her away every single time, she wants him to be better. Because she cares for him more than she cares about his usefulness.

#mass effect #garrus vakarian #shakarian #shepard x garrus #mass effect 2 #milky.txt #been thinking about this for dayssss. hi emma #mass effect meta

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quartzteph · 19 days ago

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HAPPY 10TH ANNIVERSARY TGS!!!!!

I've had this design for a recombined Jekyll rolling around in my head for months now, so I finally took the time to draw him. For the sake of clarity I'll refer to him as Re!Jekyll (short for Recombined Jekyll) (also the prefix "re-" feels kinda fitting for him, since he is whole once again). I have many ideas/headcanons for him, but I'll put all that under the cut :)

As for the drawing itself, I tried to mimic the look of the comic for the most part. (Note: Many of the colors used here were colorpicked from the comic to ensure accuracy.) I wanted him to look less like a 50/50 mix of Jekyll and Hyde and more like a Hyde-ish Jekyll, so I opted to give him the same face and hairstyle as Jekyll, but with some Hyde-like qualities. Aside from the obvious blonde streak, his hair is fluffier, messier, and a bit longer. The hair tuft/sideburn things in front of his ears are based on a mix of the hair tufts that hang in front of Hyde’s ears and university Jekyll’s sideburns. While he mostly wears red, he likes to include a touch of green, as seen here in his cravat. Also he gets the dark eye circles, as a treat. (I just really like Hyde's dark eye circles and don't have enough self-restraint to not give them to Re!Jekyll.)

Bonus doodles cause i love my freak son:

Various headcanon ramblings about him (plus drawing process) under the cut:

When he's trying to look more respectable, he uses his now-longer bangs to hide his green eye. At first, he also attempts to make his hair look neater, but this is a near impossible task that he eventually gives up on. (He is doomed to live out the fuzzy-headed mad scientist stereotype.)

When people question his sudden change in appearance, he claims his blonde streak and green eye are the result of a chemical formula splashing him in the face (á la Two-Face). Yeah this sounds a little far-fetched, but he is charming enough to get away with it. (Besides, he knows way more about alchemy than they do, who are they to question it?)

This sudden merging of identities is initially super disorienting. It takes him a while to get used to it. (In the first few days, he keeps referring to himself with "we". He eventually breaks this habit tho.)

Has a bit of an identity crisis. (I'm specifically envisioning a scene of him staring at his wardrobe, mostly full of reds and greens, and getting stuck because he doesn't know what color to wear.)

Jekyll and Hyde were so used to having someone constantly there, listening to them and yapping in their ears (or in their heads, rather). Now, for Re!Jekyll, life feels so quiet. It's peaceful, but also a little lonely.

Has a bad habit of talking to himself aloud. When he's alone, he sometimes has whole conversations or debates with himself.

Struggles more with the mundane parts of his job due to having Hyde's impulsiveness and wanderlust. He occasionally has to take little breaks from all the paperwork when he becomes too restless.

He's still goopy. Moments of extreme emotion (stress, anger, excitement, etc.) can trigger the green goop. (Think that one scene in Ch. 14 when the priestess startles Hyde, causing goop to spew from his face.) I like to imagine the guilt of everything he's done hitting him and causing him to have a "that one scene in Howl's Moving Castle" moment.

In rare moments of severe inner turmoil or repression, he may even go into convulsions in addition to the goop, as if his body is trying to transform. (Feel free to disregard this one if you wish, this is 100% just me being super self-indulgent cause I love angst.)

Despite his many newfound struggles, he’s actually very happy! He now knows that Lanyon loves and accepts every part of him, and this helps him to better love and accept himself.

And now drawing process images! Shoutout to that one Re!Jekyll who is way too excited about something:

#chat i might actually be developing brainrot for this guy #i started making him a playlist and everything #(btw if he had a theme song it would most likely be Two Wuv by Chonny Jash)#also shout out to all the people in the discord server who saw this last week #yall are the best #the glass scientists #tgs #henry jekyll #edward hyde #re!jekyll #art #fanart #quartzposting

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flametrashiraarchive · 2 years ago

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Hey👋🏾 ! Can I request Shinjuro x Widowed Reader who lost her husband and child to a demon attack years ago and is now remarried to Shinjuro after after Ruka passed. And how Shinjuro deals with being in love with another partner while also being in love with his late wife still grieving her after all these years. Also I’d wonder how Kyojuro and Senjuro would take to having a new mom🤔.

Hey! Thank you so much for the prompt!

So, this story ran away with itself, but I think this had to be a longer piece because there are so many emotions at play here. I wrote this as if the events of Mugen Train never happened and Shinjuro never had that moment of clarity after Kyojuro's death. (Kyojuro will never die on my watch)

If you prefer, it's on AO3 here

Content warnings for: alcoholism, recovering from alcoholism, death of a spouse, death of a child, and Shinjuro just being awful at the beginning of the story. It is kind of a slow-burn but there is an explicit sex scene so minors DNI.

A Rekindled Flame

Shinjuro Rengoku x F!Reader

Shinjuro curls his lip as you approach. "What do you want now?"

Your husband reeks of sake and stale sweat, his yukata falling open, exposing his broad chest and thick thighs to the neighbors as he sits on the porch.

Enough is enough.

You hold your breath, "You know what I want. I've asked you every day since the day we got married; I want you to give up the drink and be a father to your sons. Kyojuro left for his mission brokenhearted."

"So?"

"So… what if he doesn't come back?"

"Why should I care? He's a grown man. He can make his own damn mistakes."

"You're vile. You're shameful!" You were raising your voice to him now, which you never did. You would take shit from Shinjuro all day long, but when it came to the boys, you would defend them tooth and claw. Your fists coiled at your sides. "How dare you!"

Shinjuro's shock at hearing your raised voice buys you a second to snatch the sake bottle from the former flame hashira.

"Give that back!" He growls, trying to stand. He sways and stumbles back down. "I'm not finished."

You defiantly pour the alcohol onto the earth and hand him the empty bottle. "There. You're done."

He simply stares at you, too drunk to form a reaction. "You… my…"

You turn on your heel and walk back into the house, heading to your room. Throughout the year you've been married, you and Shinjuro have never once shared a bed. Not even on your wedding night. He'd barely even made it through the ceremony before he was passed out in a drunken stupor. If not for Kyojuro and Senjuro, you might have run away there and then. Your marriage is loveless by every definition.

"SENJURO!!" Your husband bellows through the house, looking for his youngest. You know exactly what for. He's too drunk to go and buy sake himself, so he'll send the lad to do it. You step out of your room and find Shinjuro staggering through the kitchen. "Where's the boy?"

"Not here." You weren't about to tell Shinjuro, but his youngest son was at the butterfly mansion, where he would stay until he was ready to come home. You've had enough. You have all had enough.

Shinjuro closes his eyes and his throat flexes. He's either holding back from yelling or vomiting or both. "When you see him, tell him I need more sake. Some hell bitch threw mine away." And then he stumbles off to his bedroom and slides the door shut. A few moments later you hear a thud, and then snoring.

All things considered, it didn't go too badly.

Before you finish your chores you head over to Ruka's shrine. It has been a decade since Shinjuro's first wife passed, and you know how much he's hurting. You've lived through it yourself.

You had thought that having both lost your spouses, you would have been a compatible match and bonded over your shared loss, but Shinjuro had only ever reluctantly accepted you as his wife. You were more of a nanny and maid.

"Ruka… I'm trying," you whisper as you kneel and light the incense. "I'll keep trying, for the boys and for him."

The next day, Shinjuro is in a foul mood as anticipated. He trudges from his room and instinctively heads to the porch before remembering the events of the previous day.

"You owe me a bottle of sake," he grumbles, his voice deep and rough.

"You owe me a year of my life. Let's just call it even."

His thick black eyebrows furrow. "Where's Senjuro?"

"Gone."

"Gone where? There are chores to be done…"

You take a breath. "Senjuro left here yesterday morning. He's gone to stay with friends. Kyojuro and I thought it would be best."

"What the hell is this? My whole good for nothing family turning against me?" He shakes his head, furious tears forming in his eyes. "Why did you take my son away?"

"I didn't send him, he wanted to go," you try to keep your voice firm but calm. Your heart is racing, and as much as you want to get the hell out too, you need to do this for Kyojuro and Senjuro. "Don't you see what you're doing to this family?"

Shinjuro scoffs. "You're the one breaking us apart. The boys are all I have!"

"Senjuro flinches when you walk into the room. Kyojuro works so hard every damn day to make you proud and all you ever do is drink and tell him he's worthless. I don't want to drive your family apart. I want to fix it. I need to fix it, because you have two wonderful sons who deserve the world. And all you're giving them is hell."

He stares at you. A tear runs down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. He knows you lost your own son, that you blame yourself for failing to protect him from the demon who killed both him and your husband. If Kyojuro had gotten there just a second later, you would have died too.

He steps toward you, muttering the first syllable of your name before he shakes his head. For a moment you could swear he almost showed you empathy. "So… what you're telling me is that I need to quit drinking, and then I'll get my boys back."

You nod. "I know how much you're hurting Shinjuro. I know Ruka was your world and you love her so much the pain is unbearable. But the drink isn't numbing it, is it? You're still hurting, and all the drink does is spread that pain to others." You take a step toward him and lay your hand on his forearm, gazing up at him with desperation in your eyes. "Let me help you, because you truly have such wonderful, kind sons, and they deserve a father. And you don't deserve to drink yourself to an early grave."

His jaw tightens and he looks away. "There's nothing left of me for you to save."

"That's not true." Your racing heart is breaking as you look into your husband's eyes and see there's no light in them at all. "Shinjuro, we'll get you back."

"It's impossible–"

"We're Rengokus. We do not give up. Please Shinjuro… let me help you and then… then I'll leave. You'll never have to see me again. But do this for your sons."

His eyes snap toward you. "Why would you leave?"

"Because I know you don't love me. You never have, and that's fine." A bitter chuckle leaves your lips. "I don't love you either. Let's just do this one thing. If all we ever do is get you through this, I'll consider our marriage a success."

He stares at you for a moment before his gaze drops to the floor. "Alright. I'll do it. For the boys."

The first weeks are hell.

The withdrawal keeps Shinjuro up at night. He shakes and sweats, throwing his guts up and snapping at you constantly. His irritability is worse than ever and you start to doubt either of you has the strength to keep doing this.

Every night you pray at Ruka's shrine. It's a comfort to feel like you're both trying to help. The photograph of her gazes back at you with endless patience and grace, and you try your best to draw strength from the hope that she's watching your efforts.

You wash the sweat and vomit from his clothes, you brew tea to help his nausea and let him swear and grumble at you all he wants. But he doesn't touch a drop of sake.

One morning, three weeks after his last drink, Shinjuro emerges from his bedroom and walks to the table where you're eating breakfast alone.

"Good morning," he says, his voice as deep and growly as ever but lately it's a little gentler.

"How was last night?"

"Better…" he pulls in a breath and walks to the pot of rice gruel on the table, ladling out a bowl for himself.

"You're eating breakfast?" You've never seen him eat breakfast in the whole year you've been married.

He nods. "Yeah… I'm hungry."

For the first time, your husband sits beside you and eats. He doesn't smell of sweat and sake anymore, he just smells like… Shinjuro.

"I'm going to cut firewood today," he tells you as he eats. "I noticed we're getting low, with the boys being gone."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shinjuro has never done chores. "Oh, thank you."

"Don't thank me. I live here too. It's only fair I do my share." He finishes his breakfast and sets his bowl down. His eyes are downcast. "I'm sorry."

Silence hangs between the two of you.

You aren't sure how to respond. There are no words to describe the tangled web of feelings you have for the man. There's so much resentment and anger. But you're proud of him too, so very very proud. And truth be told, though your marriage exists in name only, you're attached to him.

His hand rests on your shoulder, so big and heavy and oh-so warm. "I've been a terrible husband and an even worse father."

"Yes."

He bows his head. "I know words mean less than actions, but I will atone for what I've done and become worthy of the name Rengoku once more." He pulls in a long breath and turns to face you. "My wife… will–" He shakes his head, composes himself, and says firmly, "Can I hold you?"

His request takes you by surprise. "But you hate me."

"No," he shakes his head. "No, I've never hated you. How could I? I've watched you keep this home running while I've sat idle and useless. I've watched you be a mother to the boys and put up with the hell I dragged you through with grace and strength." His gold and crimson eyes are fixed on you. "You are a remarkable woman, the strongest I have ever known. And I know I'm unworthy of claiming the title of your husband, I'm beyond honored to call you my wife."

You can only stare. This man is so different from the one you've been married to this past year. "Shinjuro…" his name emerges as a whisper before your lips curve and you smile at him for perhaps the first time ever.

Words are unnecessary as you lean into your husband's embrace and his strong arms wrap around you as he buries his face against your shoulder.

And God, it shouldn't feel this good to finally feel appreciated and loved by him, but it does. You hold each other as if your embrace could heal the deepest wounds, bringing your hand up to softly stroke the back of his head and his wild fiery hair.

"I'm so proud of you," you say at last. "I know nothing has been easy these past ten years."

"It hasn't been for you either, and I've made it so much worse." He pulls back from the embrace and looks into your eyes. "I'm going to be the husband you deserve, if you'll have me. But don't answer yet. Let me earn it."

He stands and takes your bowls to wash them. When he's done he silently heads outside and it isn't long before you hear the rhythmic thump of an ax hitting wood.

You go about your daily routine, keeping the Rengoku homestead together as best as you can. You clean, maintain, fix, and finally cook.

When dinner is ready you head outside to tell Shinjuro, but the sight which greets you knocks the air from your lungs.

He's still hard at work, his torso completely bare and his yukata gathered about his hips. His body is so big and burly, softened by age yet still so strong even though years have passed since he quit his hashira training. He's sweating and his cheeks and chest are flushed a warm shade of pink. He's slightly breathless. The golden sunset highlights every curve and muscle of his body.

You just… stand… transfixed.

Your body knows what it wants immediately.

He finally notices you standing on the porch and wipes his brow on his forearm. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm… yeah…" you nod as heat creeps across your cheeks and pools in the pit of your belly. "Dinner's ready."

He nods. "Almost done."

The heat in your belly seeps lower as you watch him swing the ax again.

You have to turn away. It has been years since you felt anything close to desire, and the sudden onslaught to your senses is more than you can handle. Heading inside, you splash cold water on your cheeks and add the noodles to the pot, ready to serve.

"Mmm…"

Your heart flutters as you hear Shinjuro's low hum of approval as he steps into the house a few minutes later. "Smells like miso."

"Miso ramen."

"My favorite!"

"I know." You chance looking around and instantly regret it.

His yukata is back in place but he must have quickly washed up outside as his hair is wet and scraped up into a ponytail. And though he's clearly made an effort to be presentable, the fact remains that his yukata is hardly big enough to fully cover his chest. You can't tear your eyes from the hypnotic sight of water droplets sliding down over his skin.

"Oh~" you clear your throat and turn back to the pot, fixing two bowls of ramen. "It's a shame Kyojuro isn't back yet. He loves this dish."

"Kyojuro loves every dish," Shinjuro chuckles as he sits at the table. "Feeding him costs a fortune. But your ramen is very good." A pained sigh escapes him. "I do miss the boy. I expect he and I will have a difficult conversation upon his return. Difficult but necessary. And as for Senjuro, I can only hope he wishes to come back home."

You set the bowls on the table and sit beside him. "He will. He wants his father. And I've written to him telling him how well you're doing, though it may take a while for the letter to reach him, since Kyojuro has the kasugai crow on his mission."

Shinjuro pauses with his spoon mid air. "You did that for us?"

You nod.

He reaches out and puts his hand on yours. "I would marry you again, you know. I know you probably can't say the same and I don't blame you for that one bit. But I would marry you without hesitation."

His hand completely covers yours; large, firm, and warm. You rotate your wrist and turn your palm upward to interlock your fingers with his.

"It hasn't been easy, Shinjuro, but I would do this a thousand times over to meet the version of you I see today." His stubble rasps against your palm as you reach out and affectionately cup his chin with your other hand, lifting it ever so slightly so he sits a little prouder. "I knew there was a good man beneath all those snarls."

He chuckles and smiles at you fondly. "Thank you. Ah, I should probably shave, shouldn't I?"

"It's up to you, I quite like the stubble."

"Oh you do?" He raises a thick, dark eyebrow. "Then I'll keep it."

Your cheeks heat. You're flirting with your husband! He laughs softly and continues eating his ramen.

"It's good. Thank you. You're an excellent cook and an even better wife."

When evening comes and it's time for you to go to bed, you stand together in the center of your house between the two doors.

"Goodnight, sweet wife," he says, squeezing your hand affectionately.

"Goodnight, husband who is trying very hard."

He laughs before he turns and heads to his room.

From that point on, each day gets a little easier. You sit and eat meals with your husband and both spend the day working around your home. You become a team, a family. And every day he recovers more of himself. Every day he becomes the man his family deserves.

When he's a month sober, you prepare a special dinner; a little banquet just for the two of you.

"Oh my!" His smile beams as he sees all your hard work. "My darling wife, you really are wonderful."

"Thank you." Your heart leaps as he leans in and gently kisses your cheek.

"No, no, thank you." He chuckles and sits down to eat. He'll never admit it, but since he sobered up it's very apparent that Shinjuro absolutely shares the same voracious appetite as Kyojuro. "Mm… tasty."

You sit together, shoulder to shoulder as you eat, discussing the day and what still needs to be done around the house tomorrow. When he's finished eating you hand him a letter. "It's from Senjuro."

His smile falters and he suddenly looks timid. His fingers are shaking as he opens the letter. You already know the contents, you know it's nothing but sweetness– of course it is, it's Senjuro– but you know how terrifying this must be for Shinjuro.

You put your arm around his back as he reads and a few moments later you feel him start to shake as he grits his teeth and a sob bursts out of him.

"Senju–" he cries, bringing the letter to his lips and closing his eyes. "Oh my sweet boys. I miss them."

You pull him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around him; one around his back, the other cradling his head to your chest as you press your lips to his hair. "It's okay. You're doing so well, Shinjuro. They'll be back soon and they'll be proud to call you their father."

He nods and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you as his tears subside and he composes himself. "You're right. They'll be back and they'll have a father they can be proud of." He keeps holding you, keeps resting his head against you. "Thank you. I can never thank you enough for what you've done for our family."

"I would do it every day, a hundred times over." You kiss the top of his head, letting your lips linger in his hair. The scent of him is so comforting now, so you draw a deep breath.

He raises his head to look at you, smiling softly, and leaning in to place a gentle, loving kiss on your cheek.

His lips are soft in contrast to his stubble which rasps over your skin and stirs a cloud of butterflies in your belly.

Your heart races as you close the space between you once more and kiss his cheek in return. Your kiss lands a little lower, a little closer to his lips.

He mirrors your gesture, exchanging another chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. And another. And another.

The air between you grows thick and hot as those chaste kisses become loaded with a deeper need. And with every kiss your heart beats a little faster.

Your faces are just inches apart, his shallow breaths fluttering against your lips as the lids grow heavy over golden hued eyes. His gaze drifts to your lips. "Is it…okay if–?"

"Yes."

He chuckles, brushing his fingertips against your jaw and gently clasping your chin to bring your lips to his. His kiss is soft and tender, his lips slowly and tentatively caressing yours, as if he's rediscovering a path he once knew so well.

But once he finds the rhythm his kiss grows more intense, and a deep, desperate moan rolls through his chest and echoes in you. The moment his tongue slips against yours you're both gone; lost to the heat and the pleasant tingles shooting through your bodies.

He pulls back for a moment, checking in on you, but you quickly close the gap once more, kissing him with all the passion and adoration you've craved for so long.

Your fingers graze over his stubble as you cup his face between your hands.

"Oh, my wife," he whispers against your lips as he switches from deep, hungry kisses to feathery, gentle ones. "My sweet wife."

He presses his forehead to yours as he traces your lips with his fingertip, making you shiver.

"I should have told you every day; you're so beautiful," his voice is low and quiet and just for you. "I want to spend the rest of my life cherishing you as you deserve." He places a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. "I never thought I'd feel this way again."

You can hardly breathe; his tenderness is lovely and overwhelming. "I know I'll never replace Ruka. I don't intend to, and I would never expect you to stop loving her."

"You're right, I'll always love her, but I love you too, and there's room for both of you in my heart." He tucks your hair back behind your ear and kisses your temple. "I would never expect you to stop loving your late first husband either. The ones we lose, they're a part of us, and they would want us to be happy." He caresses your cheek and it isn't until he wipes away your tears that you realize you've begun to cry. "Before she died, Ruka begged two things of me: to take care of our boys and to find love again. And you've made both her final wishes possible. Ruka was my first love, but you are my last."

Your heart squeezes at his words. You caress his stubbled cheek before leaning in and letting your kiss tell him everything you can't find the words to express. His lips are addictive, and every kiss fans heat through your body. When you pull away you gently suck his lower lip, pulling a deep, needy groan from him.

"Oh~" his eyes flutter closed. One of his hands is at the back of your neck, the other drifts down to your waist. "You're making me weak, wife."

You can't help but smile as you lean in again and kiss him even deeper. That you can reduce this big, strong former hashira to whimpers with just a kiss is more thrilling than you ever imagined.

His cheeks are a deep shade of pink as he gazes down at you. "We have a lot of time to make up. I want to take care of you. Tell me how to do that."

"Well, we never got a wedding night," you say as your heart pounds.

"You're right." He kisses you again, runs his fingers through your hair. It seems he can't get enough of the sensation of you. "Would you like me to make up for that tonight?"

Your throat is dry, your breath stilted as you nod. "Yes. Shinjuro, right now I want nothing more."

You can see in his eyes how much this means to him. And you feel it too. It's not just the physical pleasure, but the intimacy, the outlet, the emotional release. He carries you to his bedroom and sets you down on the bed, his lips curving into a genuine and grateful smile as he kneels between your knees and leans forward, pressing his body against yours and kissing you.

It's been so long since you felt anything like this, and your body drinks it in. Before long you're kissing like teenagers, both flushed, your bodies heating. You wrap your legs around him, grinding your hips against his, seeking friction as his tongue strokes yours.

He chuckles softly. "Easy, little spitfire. I said I'd take care of you and I want to do it thoroughly." His fingers make short work of your clothing, laying you bare as his breath catches in his throat. "Beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with reverence as he gazes down at you.

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, latching onto your nipples with a wanton moan.

There's so much time to make up for, and he loves you. He desperately does. Never once during that year of lonely hell did you ever suspect that Shinjuro was a man who loves to fuck, but as he kisses his way down your belly and over your hips, he can't hide the curve of his lips or the gleam in his eyes.

His stubble rasps against your inner thighs as he teases you with hot, hungry kisses, inching closer and closer to where you so desperately need him.

"Just relax," he tells you in that soft, growly voice as he lies between your legs, his lips just inches from your pussy. "Let your husband take care of you."

And God, he does just that. Shinjuro eats your pussy like it's his first meal in forever, licking, sucking, groaning as he devours you. He's experienced; he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's enthusiastic about it, wanting nothing more than your pleasure and your fingers tangled in his fiery hair.

He listens to your moans, he pays attention, figuring out what works for you. Hooking a large, warm hand behind your knee, he lifts your leg and puts it over his broad shoulder and seals his lips around your clit, softly sucking as his tongue flutters. He's spurred on by your cries, your gasps, the way your legs tremble.

"Shinjuro…I'm close."

It's music to his ears. He doesn't stop, he keeps the same pressure, the same pace, letting your pleasure build and build until you fall apart, bucking against his skillful mouth as he laps up every drop of your essence. When your trembling subsides he gently and affectionately nuzzles your clit with the tip of his nose.

"God." You lie there panting as he kisses your inner thighs once more.

"Do you want more?" He asks, lifting your leg and trailing kisses down your calf.

"I never want it to end."

He laughs quietly, shifting his body so he can lie on top of you. You kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips as you run your fingers over his back. His muscles flex and relax beneath your touch.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispers in your ear.

"Yes." There's so much desperation in your voice.

A low, approving moan emerges from him before he rocks up onto his knees and stands to undress. His body is just as strong and burly as you remember and just the sight of him makes your breath catch. His cock is hard and standing straight out, curved slightly upward toward the tip, and thickly veined.

His eyes are soft as he looks down at you, but the shallow rise and fall of his chest tells you he's anything but calm.

Raising up, you sit on the bed and put your hands on his hips, pulling him toward you. He smiles and obeys your silent command, stepping closer to you to lay back down on top of you.

"I can't tell you how good it feels to know you want me," he whispers close to your ear. "My God, I have such a beautiful wife."

He trails kisses down your neck, pressing his lips to your throat as you run your fingers through his hair.

"You feel so good, Shinjuro."

"I want to make sure you're good and ready for me first." He reaches down between your legs, his fingers gliding over your overstimulated clit and down to your entrance. He gently pushes his finger inside, gasping at the wet warmth of your pussy squeezing him. "Ohh~ my girl, you're so wet already."

You're out of your mind with desire and pleasure as he finds the exact spot to curl his fingers against. "Shin… oh…"

"Hm? Is that good?" He adds another finger, circling your clit with his thumb and watching your every reaction.

He fucks you with his fingers deep and slow, stretching you out in preparation, enamored with your whimpers and the way you moan his name.

Lowering his head, he takes your nipple into his mouth and laps at it with his tongue. "Are you going to cum for me again, my love?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl, I know you've got at least one more for me."

You're damn near feral as he keeps coaxing out your pleasure, that big, warm body of his pressing you down against the mattress. Your inner muscles flutter and clench around his fingers.

"That's it, my love. There it is. Let's get this pretty pussy all wet and ready for me."

Your orgasm tears through you and you cry out in pure bliss as he keeps on praising you in his deep, rough voice.

"That's my girl. Oh you look so beautiful; so ready for me. You want it now, huh?"

All you can do is nod. He chuckles and pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth before he sucks them clean. "Mm~ I'm never going to get enough of your taste."

"Shinjuro," you moan as your hips involuntarily buck toward him. Your need surpasses all other sensation. You need to be fucked and you need it now.

Shinjuro's lips curve into a grin. He strokes his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick essence before he presses his tip to your entrance.

"God, you're so big," you gasp as he pushes into you. Even with all his preparation there's still a little resistance.

"Nice and easy, little spitfire," he grunts, his brow knitting together as he slides slowly deeper. "Ohh, you feel so damn good."

He buries his cock to the hilt inside you, leaning forward so his chest is pressed to yours and he can rest his weight on his forearms as he caresses your face and strokes your hair sweetly while grinding his hips against yours.

"Look at you, my pretty wife, taking my cock so well."

As your passion grows, his vocabulary dwindles to nothing more than grunts and gasps. He rolls his hips, aiming to hit every pleasurable spot with each slow thrust. He's patient, savoring the sensation of you as he kisses every inch of your face.

His restraint starts to fray as you rock your hips beneath him, hinting that you want more.

Those golden eyes of his flutter shut, and his lips part around a silent gasp. "If you keep that up I'm not going to last, my love."

You kiss him, deeply, your tongue dancing slowly with his as you keep on rocking your hips. As much as you want this to last forever, you want him to feel good too. Watching him start to lose his composure is a beautiful feeling.

He groans against your mouth. "Do you want to get on top?"

"Yes."

He rolls you over and lies back, letting you align yourself properly to ride him. Putting one arm behind his head, he reaches out with the other and touches the base of his cock, sliding up until he touches your pussy, tracing the seam where your bodies meet, with a deep, approving moan. "So perfect."

You place your hands on his belly for balance and start to roll your hips, taking him slow and steady, rocking forward so your breasts are just a few inches from his face.

"Ohh~" He's in bits as you ride him, his cheeks flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded.

Ever-desperate to please you, he strokes your clit with the pad of his thumb, watching the way you move like he's bound by your spell.

As your pleasure grows you start to move faster, taking him harder and deeper until you're riding him with desperate abandon.

Your backs arch in sync as the pleasure becomes too much to bear, as waves of pleasure wash over you and you fall apart, he cries out, gasping, thrusting his hips up into you as he finishes.

And then you collapse, fucked-out and blissful in the arms of your husband. Finally, finally after all this time.

You both lie there gasping for air, exchanging soft laughter and gentle kisses.

"I love you, wife." He pulls you to him, wrapping his strong arms around you as if he intends to protect you from the world.

And finally you speak the words you've longed to feel since the day you married him. "I love you too."

You mean it. You truly do.

For the first time in your marriage you and Shinjuro fall asleep holding each other. And that's how you sleep every night thereafter.

~A year later~

"YOU'RE HOME!" Senjuro is only fifteen and probably only half Kyojuro's weight, but he barrels into his older brother with enough force to knock the man flying onto his ass. The boys' loud, contagious laughter rings through the house.

"Careful! Careful!" Shinjuro chuckles, ruffling his youngest son's hair before helping the eldest up from the ground.

"Thank you father," Kyojuro beams as he dusts off his hashira uniform and places his hand flat on Senjuro's head, measuring his height against himself and widening his eyes when he finds Senjuro is at nose-height. "Goodness! When did you get so tall?! You must stop growing. I'll be the shortest in no time."

"Then I'll call you 'little brother' instead." Senjuro grins.

A laugh shakes Shinjuro's chest as he places his hand on his eldest son's shoulder. "You may be the shortest soon but I'm still proud of you. I'm proud of you both. I have fine boys." He smiles affectionately. "How was the mission?"

"Successful." Kyojuro lifts his chin proudly. "We prevailed, and the demon's would-be victims are safe. He won't hurt anyone again."

A moment later, Kyojuro is damn near swept off his feet a second time as his father pulls him into a tight embrace.

You can't help but smile from the doorway before heading into the kitchen. It's late spring, the air is fresh and pleasant, and everybody's home. It's as good an excuse to prepare a feast as any.

Getting to this point took some work. There were many tears and long conversations. But in the end the family has come together and emerged from the darkness stronger. The Rengoku house is once again filled with love and laughter.

Kyojuro walks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you. He knows what you endured throughout his father's recovery, and he'll never stop showing you how grateful he is.

"I'm so glad you're home," you say softly as you hug your stepson back.

He pulls back and his smile is beaming. Both Kyo and Senju have their father's hair and eyes, but Kyojuro is the spitting image of Ruka; his presence just as calming and comforting as the picture on her shrine.

"How is he?" he asks.

"Your father?"

"No, no I can see he's well. I mean…" his eyes dart downward to your stomach.

You laugh, "Oh, you're so certain you have a new little brother?"

"I'm positive, there hasn't been a girl in our family as far back as records go. Could you imagine a little girl with these eyebrows??" He laughs loudly.

There's nothing wrong with our eyebrows," Shinjuro interjects as he enters the kitchen too. "Now, if you don't mind, your stepmother and I have a feast to prepare. You and Senjuro have a lot of catching up to do, I'm sure."

Your husband rolls his sleeves over his muscular forearms and gives you a wry smile as the boys head off, chattering between themselves.

"We all love you, you know?" he says quietly as he begins chopping vegetables. "You brought this family back from the brink, and I can never thank you enough."

"You thank me plenty."

"It's still not enough."

He sets down the knife and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning around to place a dozen little kisses on your cheek.

You laugh– as you do so often these days– and kiss your husband, proud to be his and proud to love him so openly. Because Shinjuro Rengoku is a man to be proud of.

The end

#kny shinjuro #shinjuro x reader #rengoku shinjuro #shinjuro smut #rengoku #rengoku x reader #shinjuro rengoku #shinjuro x yn

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demonslayedher · 1 month ago

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Higher Stakes, Lower Tension: The Swordsmith Village Arc

Although we love it for a lot of the moments and how we got to know more characters through it, the Swordsmith Village Arc is not as popular as other arcs, and there was a lot less excitement for it compared to other arcs. I'd like to break down why I think that is, especially in comparison to the Entertainment District Arc, the tough act it had to follow.

Follow below the cut for: How lore was prioritized over momentum How setting and consequences trivialize hard-earned victories Drama and character arcs that feel incomplete How much deeper and more satisfying this arc had potential to go

Lore Over Momentum

This was an important arc. Setting aside the major accomplishment of ridding the world of two more Upper Moons, this arc was the impetus for everything that would come later, thanks to Nezuko's triumph over the sun at the very end. However, in the overall structure of the Kimetsu no Yaiba plot, this arc also laid important groundwork about Yoriichi, thereby making sense of many later developments that will come in the Infinity Castle and Sunrise Countdown arcs.

It was also a chance to develop on the importance of swords, which has been brought up on high-stakes occasions like when Tanjirou's sword breaks in battle against Rui or is at risk of breaking in battle against Daki. We learn more about the Corp and the lengths they go to in order to protect their source of swords, and Tanjirou makes it clear from the very start of the arc how reliant everyone is on the fact that these swords exist.

We know this, and for clarity's sake it is worth having Tanjiro state it both for what this says about Tanjiro and for how it brings a tidy and heartwarming resolution in his ongoing bouts of danger with Haganezuka, but it's hard to care about what is said instead of shown.

The danger the village was in was, actually, the highest-stakes battle we've seen thus far in the series. If the swordsmiths and all their know-how is wiped out, the battle again demons may be done for. But why are we not as worried for them as we were for the residents and customers of the pleasure quarters?

The Setting Lowers the Our Perception of the Stakes

This comes out in the emotions of the innocent bystanders, including and especially those heartlessly slaughtered. It's not so much because of a lack expressions of terror due to the swordsmith masks, for their body language and desperation to keep fighting and protecting the swords is clear. However, it's because they keep fighting that there is a certain stoicism that keeps us from feeling as bad for them.

This is something they always knew to expect, and they were prepared to live with the consequences of their mission.

The people of Yoshiwara, on the other hand, were simply trying to go about their nightly lives, and we taken completely off-guard by the attack. We can picture how much losing a hand is going to impact a proprietor's daily life, how traumatized a woman will be seeing her friend's head taken off right in front of her, and how even non-life threatening injuries were painful and cause for alarm with how much they bled. We see how their lives were turned completely upside-down within seconds.

On the hand, the swordsmiths buried the dead, and then scurried off to a shadow village, ready to keep working without many setbacks. The extra ending Ufotable gave this arc with the mourning swordsmiths taking time out of their busy moving process to go happily throw confetti still doesn't sit right with me for how it trivializes what happened instead of celebrating it.

While Yoshiwara is a well-known area now destroyed by enemies that usual lurk so deeply in the shadows that the many witnesses have always doubted their existence, in the Swordsmith Village every witness already knew the enemy, but no one knew the victims. Their tragedy is a hidden tragedy, and their annihilation would only have been known to a secret society.

This issue is similar to how storytellers often add somewhat obvious yet hard to picture tension about the fate of the world at stake, when something small and innocuous can be far more gripping because the stakes are easier to grasp and imagine. However, the scale of the stakes are not the only issue with building tension; the pacing is also an issue.

Lack of Narrative Build-Up

Previous arcs, especially the Entertainment District Arc, pulled this off really well. We go in knowing there will be a demon, but we don't know anything about this demon aside that Uzui's wives have gone no-contact, likely because of its interference. The arc deliver tidbits that give us the satisfaction of thinking this is it, we've found her, we've found the wives, we see she's dangerous, but then we're stunned to find out she's not even the one we should have been worried about all along.

Conversely, in the Swordsmith Village Arc, we know right away that these two are Upper Moons and they are coming. They have transformations throughout the battle that keep it challenging (at least in the case of Hantengu), but we never feel much of an elevated sense of danger or loss partway through.

Yes, we easily could have lost two Hashira that night, and it would have been devastating. However, we were quickly gratified to see their mid-battle recoveries. In Uzui's case we had to assume the worst, especially coming off the heels of losing Rengoku.

Speaking of our Hashira heroes...

Incomplete Hashira Arcs

The Mugen Train Arc was essentially Rengoku's full and, despite its brevity, very impactful character arc. Not even so much of an arc as a very loud statement of who he was.

The Entertainment District Arc, following on its heels, was like a call and response answer to the loss we and the Kamaboko boys felt. They get adopted as Tsuguko again, with more time to get to know and appreciate their mentor this time, one who is also still grappling with the loss of Rengoku and how to measure up to that. We also get a full look into the multiple sides of Uzui, from his past to his motivation to how he handles the biggest struggles, from the fear for his wives' to having to fight nearly to his death. The fact that we got to keep Uzui in some form, even if it is no longer in fighting form, felt earned and a relief.

On the other hand, we got important back story and got to know Muichirou and Mitsuri very well in this arc, but in a way that we the viewers had a physic link inside their heads instead of appreciating them through how they fight alongside Tanjirou. Tanjirou is of course amazed to see how Mitsuri fights, but as far as fearing for her safety is concerned, he saw her very quickly recover from the one fearsome hit before they parted ways on the battlefield.

Muichirou and Mitsuri both had surface-level interactions with Tanjirou without necessarily feeling a propensity to raise him like a Tsuguko, and then they face their own battles with narrow brushes with death and moments which force them to confront elements of their pasts, resulting in renewed confidence and relatively easily-earned victories without many consequences.

At least, as far as we know. As we find out later, they've already paid for those easy victories with the majority of their lifespans. Again, this arc is important to the overall plot of Kimetsu no Yaiba because those victories show how much more powerful the Corp is after the struggle defeating an Upper Moon, at long last. That was the battle that unlocked the mark, which will be the game changing in upcoming battles. Again, the lore is doing a lot of heavy lifting, but at the expense of satisfying victories.

And, because we still have future battles for these Hashira to fight, their arcs are not over. That makes their incomplete arcs feel lacking compared to the completed arcs that came before them.

But it's sure not just the fault of the Hashira for surviving in (what looks like) good health.

Those Villains Sucked

Don't get me wrong, I love Gyokko and Hantengu, at least when it comes to being as amused by them as I am by any other element in this series, and appreciating their character designs. In the wider scheme of Kimetsu no Yaiba, a series known for making us feel deep sympathy for the villains right after feeling so thrilled about them finally meeting their demise, we don't get that sense from these two. That's because they are as wretched as demons come, and they are fun to hate for all the suffering they cause simply by having been rotten to their cores. We don't get any backstory for Gyokko until post-canon publications, so that makes him seem a bit hollow, and in the case of Hantengu, he created all his own problems by being such a terrible person that we relish the chance to deny him the pity he so desperately always clamored for.

But as a Kimetsu no Yaiba arc, this leaves us hanging. Where are the little glimpses of who victims like Kyougai and Mother Spider were, or the gut-wrenching memories of Rui that forever alter our experience of him? Even worse for this arc, it comes right after the Daki & Gyuutarou flashback, once of the hardest-hitting of the whole series. Sure, Enmu never earned our sympathy because he was likewise rotten to his core, but he had more rizz about it.

As far as their impact on the arc is concerned, you could have replaced them with any other kind of challenge the characters have to face, and the results probably wouldn't have changed much. Daki and Gyuutarou were integrated with Yoshiwara both in their dealings and their backstories, Enmu was literally integrated with the setting (and trains always make great settings for added tension) and his powers brought out different sides of the main cast, Akaza drove that whole battle by virtue of his own personality and value set, Rui's preoccupation with 'family' dragged everyone into a hell of his own making.

Meanwhile, Muichirou could have annoyed the hell out of any talkative demon that had brainless minions to attack the villagers, and Mitsuri could have looked just as cool fighting a giant table made of all that wood. It's refreshing to see Tanjirou have so much anger and hate for a demon and not spare an ounce of empathy after finally taking its irritating little head, but he had more important things going on.

Nezuko's Ultimate Victory, Also Trivialized

Nezuko fully masters the sun within one chapter, so was anyone ever truly scared for her? I was spoiled long beforehand, but even if that had not been the case, the popularity of the franchise itself has shot that tension in the foot; we never really got to be sacred for her (though the art in the manga and anime really sells how hard-earned her victory was).

It's sad that we don't see much of Nezuko after she accomplishes the biggest feat a demon has every accomplished, and a lot of people have said her character was underutilized. I agree, though having her in the Fortress would have only led to more mayhem. It's hard to (but not impossible to) justify an additional arc to put her in battle since her transformation is the catalyst for everything that comes later, but the issue I have is that this transformation makes Nezuko so close to human that, realistically, if Tanjirou didn't want to or couldn't fight anymore, he'd already have the assurance that Nezuko leads a somewhat normal human existence again.

What I could have loved to see is at least one more instance of Nezuko being tempted to eat a human, like the danger we felt in the previous arc. That would be a very satisfying reminder of the stakes, and why Tanjirou must keep fighting to regain her full humanity. Making her hungrier due to her new state would be satisfying price to pay for her new ability, wouldn't it? Having that lurk in the background of an otherwise peaceful Hashira Training Arc would add as much satisfying tension as the Nakime eyeballs did. We expect Nakime to succeed in what she sets out to do, but we don't want to see Nezuko fail in that which is most taboo. One last burst of violence would also make us worry a lot more about how that medicine is going to work out for her (and anyone around her) in the few glimpses we get of her throughout the lengthy Infinity Castle Arc.

In Conclusion

Chapter 112 started with us in the heart of action and bloody devastation of the village, and then you turned the page to see a celebratory two-page title spread and announcement of the anime.

When this was compiled into Volume 13 later, Gotouge apologized for how this made it look like they were celebrating the death of the swordsmith who was killed up in the watchtower, and how insensitive that appeared.

But that's the sort of tension we were working with in this arc. It doesn't feel out of place to step away from this battle, because we were never that concerned about a bunch of giant fish with no personal vendettas against the men who were stoically prepared for just such an attack.

Despite all the heavy lifting this arc did for the plot, it's biggest pitfall is being a functional arc with a to-do list of things to accomplish. It succeeds in those things, but sadly, it didn't grip us with worry as well as it should have, despite the stakes.

Or, maybe this arc could have been saved with more lore.

Build more love for swords in the audience instead of only showing us Tanjirou's appreciation, show us swordsmiths who tremble with worry about what happens if their supply chain is cut off, or if they lose the know-how of someone like Tecchin because the rest of them carry the knowledge of how the swords they made weren't enough to save the swordsmen who wielded them, let them struggle with their own drive to create art that is also purposefully to contrast it with Gyokko's, show us swordsmiths who love their weapons but are too afraid to use them. Show us Gyokko's flashbacks and how he's always been callous toward others, show how it is his loss as an artist not just for how he can't break Haganezuka's focus, but for how his art is hollow compared to the mission of the swordsmiths. Show Hantengu having a twisted sense of righteousness well before Zouhakuten appears like a deity to serve justice by protecting him; let all his clones re-enforce his worldview about the strong protecting the weak with perverse religiosity that would make Tanjirou's stomach crawl. Show Mitsuri contemplating how she might not live up to Rengoku's example and how his loss still stings and how even Uzui was so terribly injured by lower ranked demon, show us Muichirou contemplating more how strangely easy the battle became to give us uneasy foreshadowing and a suspicion that something isn't right. Show us whatever the hell Genya was doing in the village all that time with people who he was too awkward to interact with and how he is fighting to protect the swordsmiths he snapped at in addition to his stated goal of wanting to earn Hashira status, and how he struggled to not let any well-meaning villages worry about how he refuses to eat, and how those villagers were undeterred by his brash exterior and worked around his lack of Breath of Breath by giving him firepower, for they are artisans whose ultimate goal is to enable the Corp.

This arc deserved more. It needed to Breathe.

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