#fully banking on you naturally not being able to do it every single day for seven years or whatever

[luminarai]

Gotta love the particular niche of influencers who claim that they turned their hooded eyes non-hooded or significantly changed some other part of their face by doing daily facial massages for years and years (and you can too by buying their 500$ 30 minute course!) when they’ve obviously had cosmetic surgery. Like cmon.

[avengedbiologist]

Thunderbird Headcanons

Thunderbird headcanons I just kinda forgot to post.

Scott

Not a single brain cell.

Like 6’1”

Is like really not down with the kids as much as he thinks he is.

Fully believes he is cool.

Writes a letter to his Mum every year and just puts it in a drawer.

Did have a mullet at one point.

Dimples and some moles.

Hates strawberries.

He really loves pies (not made by grandma though)

Good hugs.

He was rebellious as a kid, still got good grades at school but skived a lot and smoked probably.

Wears double denim.

Close to all his brothers due to him helping his dad raise them.

Especially close to Alan as he was only 8 when their dad went missing and kind of hand to become a parental figure in his dad's place.

Wears crocs and socks.

If he needs support will go to Virgil or John, but since he feels comfort in physical contact he tends to go to Virgil.

Full on had grey hairs at 25 from taking over IR.

Really likes porridge.

Reads/watches something for an hour before bed, unless the rescue literally causes him to pass out as soon as he gets on the bed.

Favourite tic tac flavour is lime and orange.

Really bad with spice.

Not allergic to bees

Virgil

Mans built, a good mix of both muscle and fat, bulking him out more than his brothers.

Was a bug kid, used to draw them all the time, he still remembers bug facts.

Really interested in scarab beetles

Moles on face as well as scar near eyebrow.

Like 5’9”-5’10”

Probably could lift the sofa with one hand if given the chance.

Can easily pick up Scott and John at the same time.

Usually the brother Gordon and Alan hang around or ask for emotional support.

Close with Gordon as he was the main brother who cared for Gordon after his accident due to his medical knowledge. Was around when Gordon had his breakdowns and Virgil knows a lot of Gordon's fears or insecurities, he knows most of his brothers insecurities as well, and always checks up on them if they are faced with something that could bring up their insecurities.

Virgil covers up alot, he can be quite insecure about his body, it fully depends on the day, if there is a day where he is more confident with his body and shows more skin, his brothers make sure not to comment on it as that can throw him off and make him insecure again.

Best hugs ever.

Can bake okay, can kind of cook, nothing too hard.

Has his own soup recipe that tends to be used when one of his brothers is ill.

Gay.

Close with all his brothers but tends to end up hanging around Gordon and Alan.

Is allergic to ibuprofen and aspirin

Sarcastic humour.

Full on had a crush on Kip Harris and Tycho reeves.

Can fill a sketchbook in a week.

Landscapes and figures are his favourite things to draw.

Has a birthmark on his palm

John

Tall an lanky.

Good at gymnastics.

Light freckles all over face.

Very close to Alan due to their shared love of space.

John used to teach Alan about space when they were younger, and used Alan as an audience (as well as Jeff) for when he had to practice for a presentation.

Like 6’1”

He had a punk phase when he was a teen.

Has severe hay fever.

Social anxiety isn't good with crowds, unless one of his brothers is with him, they help distract him from the crowds. Alan usually does space talk. Scott and Virgil tend to talk to him about mechanics and coding, usually asking John to babble about it. Gordon usually makes jokes or asks him about what he did that day, half the time Gordon doesn't understand what he's talking about but he's respectful and listens.

Does not like physical contact as much, he will hug his brothers but he has to be in the right mood, his brothers always seem to know when he is in the right mood.

Always hugs Alan and Gordon though.

Tends to keep a level head but if someone were to hurt one of his brothers he would get angry.

Was a generally quiet kid.

Was good at getting a baby/toddler Alan to stop crying.

Has a mole behind his ear.

Gordon

Little, like 5’6” to 5’8”.

Big shoulder from all that butterfly swimming.

Jokes about a lot, not only because he is funny but he is insecure, he hates seeing family so sad, it reminds him of when he was in his accident.

Is actually kind of insecure about his body, he has a lot of scars from accidents and from being in WASP.

He is shaped like a dorito and has little body fat.

Bisexual

Massive crush on Penelope, eventually asks her out and they hang out as much as they can, which isn't much since they both have very busy lives.

Has a mullet.

Also wears crocs and socks but does it better than Scott.

Is a mess.

Military lad but if you didn't know him you would not be able to tell.

Suffers from depression but again you wouldn't be able to tell, he hides it well.

Nothing but bright clothes in his wardrobe.

At one point he did have a crush on buddy.

He did have a good relationship with Jeff but from ages 14-16 they just didn't get on, Gordon just seemed to get on Jeff's nerves a lot and also seemed to just keep making the wrong decisions. This all got better when Gordon talked about going to work with WASP. Too bad Jeff never got to see him there since the accident happened before Gordon started.

Gordon naturally feels relieved when Jeff comes back, they start again and so far they are getting on well.

Is actually a really good cook.

If not swimming or on a mission he will spend the day cooking if given the chance.

Likes veg more than fruit.

Catch him munching on a carrot whilst listening to the info on the mission.

Always has tic-tacs in his pockets, both suit and civvies.

Really good with spice and heat, he survived eating a carolina reaper pepper.

Knows how to do the hoedown throwdown.

Knows origami.

Alan

Was only 1 when his mum died, he blames himself sometimes due to him being the one his mum was trying to save in the avalanche. [All versions]

Pansexual [All versions]

Never had a good bond with his family until he was 14 and the hood attacks, sure he liked them and they cared for him they just never gelled as well. Despite this he is close with John. John was the main one to actually listen to him and actually let him speak through his issues and John never judges him [04].

He has a boyfriend who he meets at whartons, they meet before the hoods attack and get close whilst Alans in recovery via video calls and when Alans is allowed back into school they start dating. [04]

Freckles :)

Is very little, between 5’4” and 5’7” depending on the version.

When Jeff comes back Alan is iffy around him, Jeff manages to get back in to the father figure role quickly but Alan hasn't seen Jeff for years and has forgot a lot about him, Alan naturally goes to Scott with any issues, isn't used to Jeff being around. It takes a few months for him and Jeff to actually bond properly by themselves.

Has a prosthetic leg, the story behind it depends on the version, 04, his leg was severely injured after falling and catching his leg on the moving mole during his fight with the hood in the bank. In TAG it's a situation of explosion in space that nearly kills him. (Sometimes this is a thing sometimes it's not idk)

Has a bed full of stuffed animals.

His room is filled with rocket posters and models.

Has a shelf that's just the rockets in mission order.

Loves the mercury 7.

Alan's baking ability is making those cookies that you just add like milk into.

Used to copy Gordon a lot.

Still copies him sometimes, like him keeping sweets in his pockets at all times and sometimes copies his reactions in conversations cause he zones out a lot

Will tear up if someone shouts at him, usually he hides it and when alone he lets it out. His brothers know this and will usually try to prevent the shouting from happening.

[maxwell-grant]

Having seen your thoughts on his deeply-unpleasant daddy, might I please ask if you have any thoughts on The Gladiator himself, Hugo Danner? (THE SUPERMAN WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN, if you will).

What would you do if you were the strongest man in the world, the strongest thing in the world, mightier than the machine? He made himself guess answers for that rhetorical query. "I would—I would have won the war. But I did not. I would run the universe single-handed. Literally single-handed. I would scorn the universe and turn it to my own ends. I would be a criminal. I would rip open banks and gut them. I would kill and destroy. I would be a secret, invisible blight. I would set out to stamp crime off the earth; I would be a super-detective, following and summarily punishing every criminal until no one dared to commit a felony. What would I do? What will I do?"

The thing that strikes me about Gladiator is that it almost feels like the book is unfinished. The quality and pace of the book is all over the place, but you can boil it's general story down to "unlucky bastard is born Superman before it's time for Superman to exist, without the necessary support, mindset and structure to become Superman, in a world that neither supports nor accepts the existence Superman, and just as he's about to have the life-changing epiphany that could make him something, he gets struck by lightning and dies in the 2nd-to-last paragraph".

The whole book is like if in the first Spider-Man story Peter Parker just gave up after Uncle Ben died and we never saw him again. It's a superhero/supervillain origin story that gets cut short right as it's about to lead to the birth of the character proper. It's frustrating, yes, but to my scavenger goblin brain that likes to dig through pop culture's trash to find nice forgotten trinkets to polish and make into something new, it also invites a lot of promise, if we get into the question of what could have happened to Hugo Danner if he didn't die on the cusp of his origin story. It's an idea I plan to use for my own pulp writings.

It's not so much whether or not Hugo MIGHT have been Superman, so much as: COULD he be Superman? Maybe, maybe not. I'd argue not, because even with all his power, and even with his parents trying to raise him as best they could, even with Hugo genuinely trying his best to be good and heroic and turn his gifts to mankind, it wasn't gonna pan out. The right pieces weren't there, the family structure wasn't there, the necessary aspects of the origin story weren't there, and ultimately, Hugo Danner wasn't cut for it. He is a failure at everything he tries to be super at.

At college on the football field, he kills a man. As a soldier on the Great War, he slaughters thousands for years, but fails to end the war, despite having been able to do so from the moment he enlisted. He is fired from a steel mill for working too far beyond the abilities of his fellows, and then fired from a bank for freeing a man from a locked safe, because the bank president suspected that Danner planned to use his powers to rob the vault. He tries using his powers to enact social change and fails again and again. He can't even enjoy daily life, because he cannot compete fairly with ordinary people, and because of that he must constantly hold himself in check, never able to fully express himself. And when he's presented with the idea of creating a race of people like him to dominate the world and to “conquer and stamp out all these things to which men of intelligence object,” he finds it ultimately distasteful, because he knows better than to expect good things to come out of his life. And then he curses God and dies. The whole book is one long argument as to why Being Superman Sucks.

He's not the break from tradition that Superman represented, he's a sci-fi superman who met the same tragic ending his predecessors did. In that paragraph above, the very first thing he thinks about, after remarking over his failure to end the war, is thinking about becoming some galactic dictator murdering everyone who steps out of line, before he considers becoming a fascist super-detective. Kind of a damning perspective to present your hero, isn't it? If Gladiator was released today, exactly as is, people would be quick to assume it's an origin story for a Homelander/Plutonian/Omni-Man kind of character. Hugo Danner was a Superman deconstruction before that became a pop culture cliche.

My favorite sections of the book are those that describe Hugo in the war. By far the best-written and most evocative, almost bordering on horror story. And they may be the most damning sections of them all. He never forgives himself for not ending the war when he could, because he's spent all those years killing and toiling away when he was just about the one person who could conceivably leap all the way to Germany and force the war to end. I imagine a lot of pulp heroes who suffered in the war, or any war, and walked out of it with a resolve to protect and do good by others, would be pretty pissed when discovering that, all along, there was this living god among them who actually could have ended the war single-handedly, but was just too damn busy slaughtering his way through fields of people who couldn't possibly fight back, to think about it.

And for all that Hugo says that he hates war and murder and bloodshed, he sure seems like a total natural for it:

Hugo, out of his scarlet fury, had one glimpse of his antagonist's face and person. The glimpse was but a flash. He was a little man—a foot shorter than Hugo. His eyes looked out from under his helmet with a sort of pathetic earnestness. And he was worried, horribly worried, standing there with his rifle lifted and trying to remember the precise technique of what would follow even while he fought back the realization that it was hopeless.

In that split second Hugo felt a human, amazing urge to tell him that it was all right, and that he ought to hold his bayonet a little higher and come forward a bit faster. The image faded back to an enemy. Hugo acted mechanically from the rituals of drill. His own knife flashed. He saw the man's clothes part smoothly from his bowels, where the point had been inserted, up to the gray-green collar. The seam reddened, gushed blood, and a length of intestine slipped out of it.

Hugo stepped over him. He was trembling and nauseated. The bellow of battle returned to Hugo's ears. He pushed back the threatening rifle easily and caught the neck in one hand, crushing it to a wet, sticky handful. So he walked through the trench, a machine that killed quickly and remorselessly

Hugo was learning about war. He thought then that the task which he had set for himself was not altogether to his liking. There should be other and more important things for him to do. He did not like to slaughter individuals. The day passed like a cycle in hell. No change in the personnel except that made by an occasional death. No food. No water. They seemed to be exiled by their countrymen in a pool of fire and famine and destruction.

And then later, after they kill a friend of his

He leaped to the parapet, shaking his fists. "God damn you dirty sons of bitches. I'll make you pay for this. You got him, got him, you bastards! I'll shove your filthy hides down the devil's throat and through his guts". He did not feel the frantic tugging of his fellows. He ran into that bubbling, doom-ridden chaos, waving his arms and shouting maniacal profanities. A dozen times he was knocked down. He bled slowly where fragments had battered him. He crossed over and paused on the German parapet. He was like a being of steel. Barbed wire trailed behind him.

Bayonets rose. Hugo wrenched three knives from their wielders in one wild clutch. His hands went out, snatching and squeezing. That was all. No weapons, no defence. Just—hands. Whatever they caught they crushed flat, and heads fell into those dreadful fingers, sides, legs, arms, bellies. Bayonets slid from his tawny skin, taking his clothes. By and by, except for his shoes, he was naked. His fingers had made a hundred bunches of clotted pulp and then a thousand as he walked swiftly forward in that trench. Ahead of him was a file of green; behind, a clogged row of writhing men. Scarcely did the occupants of each new traverse see him before they were smitten. The wounds he inflicted were monstrous. On he walked, his voice now stilled, his breath sucking and whistling through his teeth, his hands flailing and pinching and spurting red with every contact. No more formidable engine of desolation had been seen by man, no more titanic fury, no swifter and surer death. For thirty minutes he raged through that line. The men thinned. He had crossed the attacking front.

A man dipped in scarlet, nude, dripping, panting. Slowly in that hiatus he wheeled. His lungs thundered to the French. "Come on, you black bastards. I've killed them all. Come on. We'll send them down to hell."

And years later, when he's thinking back to the misery that had been his life:

His deeds frightened men or made them jealous. When he conceived a fine thing, the masses, individually or collectively, transformed it into something cheap. His fort in the forest had been branded a hoax. His effort to send himself through college and to rescue Charlotte from an unpleasant life had ended in vulgar comedy. Even that had been her triumph, her hour, and an incongruous strain of greatness had filtered through her personality rather than his. Now his years in the war were reduced to no grandeur, to a mere outlet for his savage instinct to destroy. After such a life, he reflected, he could no longer visualize himself engaged in any search for a comprehension of real values.

If he could but have ended the war single-handed, it might have been different. But he was not great enough for that. He had been a thousand men, perhaps ten thousand, but he could not be millions. He could not wrap his arms around a continent and squeeze it into submission. There were too many people, and they were too stupid to do more than fear him and hate him. Sitting there, he realized that his naïve faith in himself and the universe had foundered. The war was only another war that future generations would find romantic to contemplate and dull to study. He was only a species of genius who had missed his mark by a cosmic margin.

Even when he's thinking about the places where he went wrong, that he blames himself for, even when's engaged in introspection, his thoughts still gravitate towards violence and hatred, of squeezing continents into submission and of how much the masses are stupid to not appreciate him (because really, all Hugo wants is to be loved and appreciated for what he is), and how unlucky he was to miss his mark.

There's just no place for Hugo Danner. Maybe it was actually rather merciful that he got to have his misery ended briefly by lightning strikes, before he could either turn into something worse, or have his life ruined more throughly.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries. 

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter One: The One Where it Starts

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1615

Being an adult in general is a wild roller coaster. Whether it be balancing bills, expenses, keeping a proper career, all together it was a stressful period. Going to the bank or answering phone calls was difficult enough. Seriously, what is with people and constantly calling? It’s so much easier to just text. Not to mention it keeps the incredibly anxiety ridden people at bay, and leaves them in a sane state of mind without worrying about anything. 

     That brings us to the protagonist of our story. Lily Briar Osborne. The 33 year old child of Abel and Alicia Osborne. She was the sister to two younger siblings, Rose and Cedar. Can you sense a theme with the children's names? Even Lily herself seemed to carry on that legacy with her own son. While balancing her busy work and just life in general, Lily mothered a young boy named Hunter. Hunter Osborne-Harvey. The eleven year old boy that was the result of a much too early marriage of two young kids who believed this was it, they had found the one. Well, that was not exactly the ending of their fairy tale. It instead involved a mistress, many trips to Grandma and Grandpa's, and a few too many shots in order to handle one another.

     Lily was more-so a quiet girl. Definitely more of the silent type in comparison to the majority of people in her profession. She was a pediatrician, and the only time you really see her talk or even crack a smile, is when she was with the kids. She was always found making sure they felt comfortable. When the young ones were gone, she seemed to shut down. Giving straight and to the point answers. Not elaborating unless asked, and strictly sticking to just the facts.

     Lily and Hunter had found home in a small colonial home in the suburbs of Manhattan, New York. There, they can be found in the company of a German Shepard named Joey, after the beloved sitcom, Friends. You could always find the small family laying in Lily's bed with the comedy illuminating the room around them. Every other Sunday and Saturday before Hunter's father came to pick him up for the weekend, they'd lay in bed before going out for brunch at Lily's best friends cafe further into the city.

     Which is where the story began. a sunny Saturday morning in September.

-----

     "If he doesn't like you, it's a moo point."

     The two Osborne's laughed softly at the comment made by their favourite sitcom character. Lily's fingers gently ran across the arm of her son, creating a soothing rhythm as they watched the sitcom, his head laid comfortably against the pillows. The large dog laid spread down at the edge of the duvet where his breathing radiated gently through the room.

     "Alright why don't you head in to get dressed and we'll go to Aunt Gen's cafe, hm? Sound like a plan kiddo?'' Lily's feather light voice cooed as her hazel eyes moved to glance over at her son.

     "But I wanna stay home all day and watch friends." Hunter whined as he nuzzled further into his mom's bed.

     "No love, I'm sure your dad has lots of things planned for the weekend. And we can watch more episodes when you're back tomorrow, okay? I promise." Lily sighed while lifting her pointer finger to her son.

     The pointer finger promise was Lily and Hunter’s signature thing. Instead of making a pinky promise, which was the weakest finger, they used one of the strongest. to make the strongest promises. That is exactly what they would do. And they'd know that if they broke it, trust would be something that had to be earned back. And luckily for Lily, she trusted her son with her whole being. He told her everything, as far as she knew. Seeing as she wasn't in his head, who knew? Though he was very vocal about his distaste for visiting his father, and it did hurt Lily to hear the pain he felt. The separation agreement allowed Scott Harvey, Hunter's father, to have the young boy every other weekend.

     Lily was lucky enough to have primary custody. Mostly because Scott was never a fully invested father before the divorce, so the court had no issue granting Lily the majority of the custody. But of course, Scott could come by whenever to see Hunter, as well as if he had something planned, he could pick up his son. But...Hunter wasn't the biggest fan of his father.

     Neither was Lily.

     Lily and Scott got divorced a few years ago when Hunter was a ripe 7 years old, and now he was 11, and still lacked the father figure he longed for. In those 7 years, Scott never really put an effort in. and hunter was a smart kid, and already harbored a distaste for the distant nature of his father. and it annoyed him, and Lily, that all of the sudden, after the divorce, Scott wished to be the great father he never was before. Despite his many attempts, it never worked out well for him.

     "Promise." Hunter smiled gently and wrapped his pointer finger around Lily's, before sliding out from underneath the white duvet that covered the two of them, startling the dog that laid at the end of the bed.

     As Hunter left the room, a small sigh escaped the blonde doctor's lips. She hated these days, when Hunter had to go visit his father. But she knew it was important for a child's psyche to have at least a relationship with their father. Picking herself up as well, Lily heaved herself into her closet. She picked out a white spring dress with blue baby's breath designs splayed across the entire piece of clothing. It was a tank top strap, and it was the end of summer and a small breeze danced through her window. She slid a blue jean jacket over her arms before stepping into her bathroom to complete her basic routine.

     After she pulled her hair into a pony, lily stepped out of her room after calling Joey out and down the wooden stairs to the main floor, where Hunter sat at the front door with his backpack and Converse on. Lily couldn't help but smile gently at her punctual son and felt proud of how she had raised him. And how he had grown to be a self-sufficient boy who was also able to ask for help when need be.

     "You gonna get the pancakes again today kiddo?" Lily wondered while stepping into her ballet flats and ruffling  the fur on Joey's back before opening the white door for her son.

     "Aunt Gen keeps putting secret blueberries in them and acting as though they're chocolate chips. I don't trust her anymore."

-----

     Lily and Hunter stepped out of the silver 2019 Honda passport, the two Osborne's took a deep breath of the muggy New York air. Hunter stood by Lily's side as she paid for the parking spot they were lucky enough to grab in the busy streets. She slid her arm around the boy's shoulders, before leading the two towards the fairly busy cafe her best friend owned.

     Genevive Fairchild. Lily's best friend for close to 20 years now. The two had met during their highschool orientation back in 2005. Gen was the extroverted hippy with conservative parents who disagreed with their child's decisions and mannerisms. She was always wearing what was to become her signature dreadlocks with golden decals littering her hair. Baggy shirts with fishnet cardigans and ripped jeans, the necessities to embody Gen. She entered the school loud and unbothered by others opinions or thoughts on how she acted or what she wore. But somehow, she was taken with the quiet blonde who kept her opinions to herself, hands tucked behind her back.

     Lily hadn't changed much in these twenty years, much to her parents dismay. Her parents were elated when their timid daughter brought home the boisterous and carefree Genevieve. Lily's parents were the same as Gen, unbothered and one with the Earth, no real care about people's opinions. Her father was a botanist and her mother a conversationalist. Plants and crystals littered the eco friendly home of Lily's childhood in the rural area of Long Island, New York. To see their studious, goody-good, daughter who wore knee length dresses everyday and cardigans, to bring home such a carefree spirit, was a breath of long needed fresh air for them.

     Ever since then, the two were inseparable. Lily even made her the godmother of Hunter. They both had keys to each others places, and nothing ever seemed to get in between the two of them. Other than those many years Scott wreaked havoc on their friendship. He kept Lily under some sort of spell, no matter how many times Gen attempted to convince her of the terrible manner of their relationship. Eventually, Gen gave up on the fight. until the young chocolate skin girl caught her best friend's husband getting it on with some girl at a party Gen was invited to.

     And that was the end of that marriage. Gen stayed with lily almost every night while everything was happening. And when her or Scott couldn't get Hunter up to Lily's parents, Gen would take him. Make sure he wasn't too focused on the broken state of his mother.

     As the two pushed open the door to the cafe, they were greeted with the fresh smell of coffee and pastries. That is, before they were practically being tackled by the woman earlier mentioned.

     "You two will NOT believe who is here right now."

[biznichwrites]

A Dream Come True

Length: 5K Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

This is to go hand in hand with @dudeandduchess‘s accompanying post in which we had alternative endings with this fic. I wrote until the end of the smut, after which we created our own endings. Think of it as yin and yang.

If you would like to read Jen’s nightmare version check it out here.

She had filled her head with pretty lies, thoughts of soft, fluffy things that tickled her stomach like butterflies. The sight of one of the few other water breath users - the pillar, in fact - brought a smile to her face. He was perfect for the role - eyes as blue as the ocean, steady like the waves, strong like a deep current, carving his own path like a river, yet calm like the water's surface at night. 

What started as infatuation became a crush, leaving her whole world centered around him. Inside she knew she wouldn't grab his attention, even if she was one of a handful of slayers at the water estate. Their rarity made them all busy on missions, there wasn't much time to see each other in passing, so she treasured every moment spent in Giyuu's presence. 

Despite their schedules, she tried to do more for him. The maintenance he had performed almost single handedly was spread among the both of them. Mending his uniforms when they were damaged, even his beloved haori once. Salmon was always stocked once she figured out it was his favorite, even going as far as to cook it just as he liked. That was a mistake on her part - his glowing smile pulled her in deeper. 

Still she felt her heart ache over the months. No matter what she did he never spoke a word to her, not that he really spoke to anyone else. Had she done something to make him hate her? 

The day she had given up on his heart came shortly after. It wasn't often she needed help or saving, but a lower moon was a bit beyond her hope to slay. She had kept neck and neck with it for some time, praying that a pillar would arrive to slay it before it ate her. Like written from a bad romance novel, her Pillar came just as she felt weak after hours of battling, his blade cutting through the neck of the lower moon with ease. 

Her knight in shining armor, so to speak. He came to save her, specifically him. Her heart fluttered in joy, tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe he would be impressed that she managed to last so long, to stay alive and keep the moon busy until someone stronger arrived. Her breath hitched as she heard him inhale, as if to speak. 

"He wasn't much trouble, you should have been able to slay him. If you're weak you should know not to challenge a moon." He hadn't spared a glance her way, simply flicking his sword to clear it of blood before sheathing it. Her heart broke as he walked on, leaving her to watch the mismatched haori on his back as the distance between them grew. 

***

"Giyuu, you should try to get close to others! I know it's scary but there's plenty of people out there that are nicer than the way Shinobu makes it seem." Tanjirou smiled at the elder water slayer, urging Giyuu to connect to others the way they had, at the very least. 

"I'm not sure about that. People don't like me." Giyuu sat with his legs pulled up by the bank of the river they stopped at. 

"All you can do is try! Didn't you want to become friends with Sanemi?" Tanjirou wasn't going to let Giyuu escape this time, even if it meant some friendly pestering. 

"Yeah, I think he likes ohagi so I was going to give him some." Giyuu stared into the distance, trying to imagine the violent man attempting to receive a gift. 

"What about (Y/N)? She's been nice!" Tanjirou was hoping to point out anyone who had been kind to the pillar, at least someone who wasn't filled with malice. 

"Who?" Giyuu's face went blank at the name, unable to recall who the name was attached to. "I quit remembering names of most slayers since they die so fast."

Tanjirou deflated at that, finding it sad for Giyuu to view life in such a bleak manner. It felt him grasping at straws to find the correct words to express himself as he thought of what to say next. 

"You remembered me before I was a slayer! She survived a solo fight with a lower moon, I don't think she's dying any time soon, you know." Tanjirou hoped the other would understand what he was saying, at the very least. 

"Oh… She didn't beat the moon, though." Giyuu, like a child that was done with the conversation, drew idly in the sand below them with a stick. 

"Well we can work on the ohagi for Sanemi, how about that?" 

***

Giyuu thought of the girl Tanjirou had mentioned. He didn't know what to make of it all - she had survived, which is what he was looking for in a friend, but she wouldn't have without help. At the same time neither would have Tanjirou. Perhaps he was being too critical, she was still alive and kicking to this day. 

However he hadn't seen her much since then. Maybe she was training more? That was enough of an explanation for him. It wasn't unusual for the entire water estate to be empty with as few of the water breath users completed the final selection, much less survived long enough to rank high enough to live in the estate. 

The next time he saw her, presumably after a mission as she was returning at dawn, he recognized her more than just a name. He bit his tongue, unsure what to say as he stood on the engawa staring at her tired body limping closer. The moment her eyes caught his she glanced away, turning towards another part of the estate to rest in.

He would have questioned it more, but occurrences like this weren't uncommon. People avoided him, that was normal. Yet the way she kept herself at a distance made him want to find out why she did such a thing. Why did she hide away from him? 

His breath caught in his throat one morning, watching as she sat on the far end of the engawa in a simple yukata. She must be getting ready to sleep, given most slayers were nocturnal, but he thought she looked nice in the morning sun. Pretty even. 

Months drug along, her eyes never meeting his own. Yet he felt himself drawn to her. All the actions she had taken before - he hadn't forgotten them, but he hadn't fully appreciated them at the time either. She had done something for him without being asked with nothing in return. Someone that selfless couldn't be a bad person. He still felt a bit bitter with himself for being so critical with her, the same he felt with Tanjirou. Neither deserved that. 

***

It wasn't until Murata and a few others had saved up a large sum of money to buy enough alcohol to drown all the demon slayers, that he had a chance to interact with her. The whole time he was tense, almost awkwardly staring at her the whole time. 

"Earth to Giyuu, you there?" Really, Murata was the only one that talked to the pillar so freely, with the exception of Tanjirou. Having kept the pillar alive at one point gave him a bit of the right, so no one spoke of it. 

"Hm?" Giyuu's head turned back to Murata, clearly not aware of anything he had just said. 

"I was seeing if you were going to drink with us. We're celebrating a year of not losing any water breath users. I figured of anyone you'd want to join." Murata handed him a bottle, not really waiting for a response. Was it responsible for a pillar to drink? Not at all. Had they organized this with Kagaya in mind? Of course, they had consulted with him to make sure they could celebrate freely. 

Giyuu stared at the bottle then back to Murata, eyes flickering between the two. "I've never drank before…"

"Now is a good time to start!" Murata laughed with a pat to the pillar shoulder before disappearing into a small bunch of slayers. 

***

Giyuu had drank nearly half the bottle in the course of a few hours, but he didn't find himself relaxed. Rather he found himself in a flurry of emotions - sad remembering everyone he's lost, angry with himself for allowing his life to be ruined by both demons and his own mismanagement of his emotions, but most surprising of all he found himself jealous. 

The only female slayer of the bunch was flirted with endlessly. Most of the less than classy lines were met by laughter by the slayers. He knew they were treating it as a joke, even when she pretended to be the man hitting on Murata pretending to be a woman, but he didn't like it. He rested knowing that it was all in fun, though. 

His drunken eyes met hers, making her already flushed cheeks even more red than previously before she glanced away. He was happy she was mindful to wear hakama, least the drunk young men around them get any ideas. 

"Murataaaaa, when are you gonna get a wife? You keep talking about settling down but you're doing a shit job at it." Her laughter was kind enough, even if she was poking fun. 

"(Y/N)! You know I-I-I---! I'm trying! It's just difficult!" Murata floundered under the playful scrutiny before returning a rebuttal, "So when are you getting married (Y/N)?" 

"You know I'm dying alone, don't ask dumb questions." She laughed, but the laughter joining her was awkward, quiet and confused. Technically she could pick any slayer and they'd say yes - just for a lack of women around them, especially ones that understood the nature of their jobs. A moment passed but no further comments or banter had been added to the conversation after her bleak comment. Her face heated realizing she had made a fool of herself, not that Murata was much better as he fumbled moving the conversation forward. 

Giyuu watched as she tilted up the porcelain of her heated sake, taking in how her throat contracted as she gulped. Was it proper for her to drink like that? No. But it technically wasn't traditional for women to wield swords and hunt demons, so it wasn't like social protocol meant much to her anyway. 

Almost silently she slipped away, padding over to her room at the far end of the estate. His eyes followed her movements, taking in the dejected way she looked. Was she broken-hearted? He didn't understand why, she was pretty in her own way, stronger than most gave her credit for, smart enough to stay alive. Maybe he was more fond of her than he let on. 

After some time the men grew rowdy, playing games and raising their voices. Murata seemed to stop drinking after a certain point, clearly aware of his limits. 

"Murata?" Said slayer turned his attention to Giyuu, almost surprised that he spoke. "Is there something wrong with (Y/N)? She left a bit ago." 

"Oh… I made a mistake and brought up something I shouldn't have, she's probably just having some time to herself." Murata prayed the Pillar didn't press for more info, being one of the few she admitted the situation to. He was far too drunk to stop himself from slipping up. 

"Is she sad?" The lower ranked slayer blinked at the question, taken aback at how simple it was. 

"Yeah, she just has her ways of dealing with it - wait! Where are you going?" Giyuu stood, moving toward the woman's room without another word. Murata prayed it didn't make things worse. 

***

The pillar stood outside her door, listening as her crying was muffled into hitched breaths and harsh inhales to quiet herself. He wasn't sure what he was doing with the alcohol in his system, but he slowly pushed the shoji open and closed it quietly behind him. 

"Is there something wrong?" He was trying to be nice but the jump of surprise from her was clearly not the reaction he was searching for. Her hand rested above her heart in surprise before gripping the cloth in anguish. 

"I'm fine. You can go back to the others." Her head tilted away, not meeting his eyes. 

"I'm sure Murata didn't mean to upset you. Did something happen? Did you lose your fiance?" It was the only explanation he could rationalize why she wouldn't take a spouse when she had her choice of men flirting with her earlier. 

"I said I'm fine. Leave me alone." She flopped back down on her futon, facing away from him. He wished she didn't look so pretty or the light of the moon didn't accentuate the curves of her waist and hips. Despite her words he never left, she knew at the lack of sound her shoji made when open and shut. 

Rather he shuffled closer, nowhere near as elegant as he usually moved. Still he slid his fingers into her hair, finding himself rationalizing the feel of her hair with the need to sooth her. 

"I'm sure you could find a husband in the slayers if you're worried about that." He didn't like it, especially the thought of not being able to freely look at her and the risk of never being able to touch her again. 

"I said my plan was to die alone, it's not that complicated."

"Why?" 

"Men don't want a woman like me." Her words croaked from her throat and he could help but sink into the futon and pull her back to his chest. His nose was pressed to the back of her hair and he could bask in her scent. 

"That's not true." The more of her he got, the greedier he became. He wanted to remind her that the other water breath users would marry her, but she clearly wasn't interested. 

"You don't know that." He felt her back trembling as she held back her distress and he hugged her closer. "I'm covered scars, I can barely fight and I'm a pitiful slayer, I don't have anything to my name but what I wear, I'm not pretty and dainty like other girls-" 

Her hands covered her mouth. She was complaining to the very person that filled her with insecurities. Deep inside she wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. It didn't mean she wasn't bitter. Her love for him had soured, painting her into a corner of self depreciation. She knew this wasn't him, this was some drunken version of the man likely looking to have a piece of her. 

For what it was worth, she would let him. At least it would be the final chapter to the broken heart saga of her life. 

"None of that is true."

"I don't need lies to make me feel better." 

He was growing a bit frustrated. His hand gripped her waist, both keeping her still and holding her to him. He was painfully aware he could slide his hands lower to grip the curve of her hips or slide his hands upward to cup her breasts.

"You're pretty. A good slayer. You're good as you are." He couldn't think of anything more grand to say, not that he was eloquent with words anyway. He prayed she understood, but the pause in her response made fear eat at his chest. Had he said the wrong thing?

"...Did you want to sleep with me?" That was the only conclusion she could think of. He was drunk and needed a body that was willing. If he was into women she was the closest one, and considering she was the only one in the estate he had to act fast. 

"Sleep with you?" His words were quiet, as if he was scared to say them loud enough. 

"As in sex. Did you want to have sex with me?" She was only so bold because she was facing away from him. The alcohol and bitter feeling in her chest brought up the question, but she could never work up the nerve to ask if she was looking directly at him. 

He buried his face against her neck weighing the options. She was drunk, but so was he. There was no way either should do this. At the same time he doubted the option would ever be available again, especially as his attraction to her grew. 

"Yes…" 

***

He hovered over her, pushing in deeply with a moan. Her eyes had shed so many tears through the night, even more when he undressed her, but he couldn't help but to find her more addicting than before. 

"You're so warm, oh fuck…" His head rested against her shoulder as he found himself able to thrust into her depths. "You're so beautiful, so perfect."

He heard her crying harder, moans of pleasure breaking through her moans of agony. Long had passed the attempts to calm her tears, especially when she grew nervous when he saw her naked. 

He never missed her whispers of self depreciation, how she fought all compliments that slipped from his lips as he undressed her layer by layer. Even if she found herself disgusting he couldn't agree with her. Every scar he uncovered, every little imperfection his eyes found cemented his infatuation. 

It was her, something so unique to only her. No one else could replicate every little aspect of her. 

Yet he couldn't make her stop crying. Soft whispers of praise didn't just fall on def ears but only pushed her into further despair. Every kind thing he said only brought more tears. 

He didn't miss how her hips canted into his, how her eyes grew hazy as pleasure set in - the way her lips trembled after he kissed her, the second of hope in her eyes before she turned her head away. 

The soft hiccups between whimpers were never lost on him. They came at his every kiss and praise, every moment he touched her in a way she enjoyed. As if some part of her wanted to receive his adoration before becoming buried in negativity. 

She couldn't deny it, either. Simply knowing he didn't despise her, or at least a part of her, both healed and hurt her. For a moment she had some value to him. She was someone worthy of his sole attention. 

Rough hands graced her body, pushing her hair from her face before guiding down her neck to cup her breast, gently squeezing her nipples before tracing her scars down her torso. When he reached her hips one hand held firm while the other graced the area above where they were joined. He remembered in a haze that men had talked about women feeling good there. A clit? All he knew is that her legs tightened around his hips the moment his thumb grazed the tip of the bud. 

Abusing such a sensitive spot to see her reactions was a bit cruel on his part, but he wanted to see her relieved of her tears. It was time she felt good - both in terms of sex and about herself. He basked in the moment he hands left her face to cling to the bedding below her. 

Dipping down he kissed her lips again, taking in how she seemed to squeeze tighter at the simple piece of affection. Despite the fact she felt inferior he adored having her like this - seeing her broken, in a way no one else has seen before, and the ability to see her put back together again. The vulnerability neither showed the world, only shared with the other. 

He shifted his hips, thrusting deeper than before. She clenched around him in ways that made him regret never considering doing this sooner. At the same time he knew their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Their suffering was similar in a sense, they both could understand not having any value in themselves. Had he really been so blind to her all this time? 

"You're so good." His head fell to her shoulder as his hips jerked into her warmth. The man felt elation when she gave in and clung to him. At first her hands were lightly touching, only loosely circling his back. Even if he wasn't sober he recognized enough of her reactions to make her react how he wanted. 

Kisses were placed to her cheek and jaw as he tilted his head from her shoulder. Her breath shuttered, her nails timidly scratching his skin as her hold grew more firm. 

He didn't expect her to orgasm from such simple affection but he couldn't explain why else her core felt as if it were milking his cock. Her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him flush against her as her face buried into the curve of his neck. 

It was welcoming to hear a cry of pleasure rather than anguish. The sound graced him, bringing him to climax shortly after her. Had he been sober he would have been more mindful of mindlessly cumming inside her without a second thought. For the moment he wanted to bask in the feeling. The after glow of sex was only highlighted by the feeling on her nuzzling into his neck. 

For a moment she accepted him. Someone liked him, even if he could still hear her hiccup as warm tears covered her cheeks again. He considered wiping her tears away but decided that he would rather let her hide against his chest. It was somewhere safe, where the judgements of the world that had brought her so low couldn't touch her. 

Her heart throbbed at the feeling of him holding her close, even as they shifted to lay chest to chest on the futon. His cum dripping out to dirty her thighs wouldn't deter her for enjoying the moment. Regret and shame could come later, for now she wanted to accept just a grain on the validation he gave. Even if he regretted in the morning she wanted to savor the moment. 

***

The next morning, or rather afternoon, came too soon. Her eyes hurt, presumably from all the crying she had done, and her body was simply tired. While she wasn't sober, she remembered the previous night. Perhaps with less clear detail than she'd prefer, but the feeling hadn't changed. Tension gnawed at her stomach as she felt the water pillar's warmth against her skin even before she opened her eyes. 

Giyuu woke silently, as always, but with a shadow of a smile on his face. Not that anyone could see it, not even his bedmate. Still waking up with her in his arms was a pleasant feeling. She hadn't run away from him, hadn't pushed him away again. She had accepted him, at least for the time being. 

The futon wasn't made for two people so it was to be expected they were pressed flush together. Yet neither felt uncomfortable. His back blocked the light faulting through the shoji, sparing her eyes the brunt of the light.

She had assumed the night after a half tipsy hook up would be more awkward, but the moment his fingers traced her spine she found herself melting into him and the blankets. The bitter feeling inside hadn't disappeared, but the harsh things she believed to be fact that haunted her seemed to be farther away more than ever. 

Timidly she nuzzled against him, testing the waters of his affectionate gestures. Warm hands pressed against her back, pulling her into him. Her arms circled him tentatively, only applying the lightest of pressure before returning his hold on her. 

His heart throbbed, feeling as if it were in his throat. While he found actions easier than words things became more confusing the more awake he became. Holding her out of some sleepy instinct seemed right, but now he was awake and aware of what he was doing. However she seemed to like it, even reciprocating of her own free will. It was a much better turn of events than her crying about being unlovable or something of the sort. 

"Good morning, Giyuu." He looked down to find her peeking up at him, seemingly just as unsure of herself as he felt. Yet he didn't miss the hopeful glimmer in her eyes, the way she subconsciously held on to him. She really didn't want him to leave, did she? "How are you feeling?" 

"Morning. I'm fine." More than fine, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself. Unconsciously his hand rose to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He struggled to hold a conversation, but he'd try for her. "You?" 

"I'm great. Tired though, still." With a heaving breath she buried her face against his neck as he had done to her the night before. 

"One thing." Her eyes blinked in surprise, unused to him sparking more conversation. Anxiety rolled in her stomach again worrying about all the possibilities he could bring up. Was he going to ask her to let go so he could leave? Not tell anyone? Was he ashamed of sleeping with her? Yet when he spoke he sounded as if his word was final, nothing to be debated. 

"Don't talk about yourself like that anymore."

***

Months passed without incident, the pair of water breath users growing closer by the day until either were inseparable between missions. While Giyuu was never a fan of public displays of affection, the rest of the estate could see the change in him. 

"Is something different?" Murata whispered to Tanjirou, who was sneaking a glance at the water pillar with him. 

"Absolutely. I can't tell what, but I can smell the happiness on him." The younger slayer tapped his nose before the elder took a hold of the top of his head and twisted it back to focus his sights on the engawa. 

The once sad slayer, one who had given up on her heart, sat next to Giyuu with a grin that could blind the room. Even the pillar himself couldn't help but return the sentiment with a shy smile of his own. As she took his hand his cheeks flushed a pink tone, as if that had been the most indecent thing they had done thus far. 

"Good morning, Giyuu." Lips pressed to his blushing cheek, same as she had done every day since they agreed to be together shortly after their drunken, steamy night. His cheeks plumped with the happy smile before returning to a simple content expression. 

"Good morning, dear." He couldn't deny it was odd at first, but receiving her affections had become the highlight of his day. Even if he was too shy to return them all in the public eye, he held her hand more firmly as a silent promise to grace her with the love she gave him later. 

I'm the distance the lower ranking slayers looked on in surprise. Murata, who had a notion of what happened, soon wiped his face of shock to replace it with comical tears of joy. 

"She did it! Tanjirou, she did it!" Murata shook Tanjirou's shoulders in excitement, not mindful about being caught in the moment. "She finally got him to break his shell. Look at them! Oh my-"

Murata's mindless blubbering went on and on, while Tanjirou sniffed the air. Something was different, a familiar scent but he couldn't quite place it. Wait, was she-? 

"Giyuu, I actually needed to talk to you." Tension rose in him as his lover said that, but her demeanor was not the same style of tense. Rather she seemed a bit anxious but not angry or upset. His hands held both of hers, as if there were a silent plea to not leave. The shy upward curve of her lips soothed him. 

"I don't really know how to say it more eloquently, but…" Her hand took his, pressing it to her stomach. "We're going to be parents."

Below his palm he could feel the fabric of her yukata and the skin below. It was firmer than he remembered, likely from their child growing within. 

"You're really…? It's mine…?" His eyes were wide, jaw slack as he pressed both hands around her stomach, even if it hadn't grown much yet. Perhaps that's how he hadn't noticed before. 

"Of course, I haven't been sleeping with anyone but you." She laughed to herself as he all but slid off the engawa to sit on the ground and become level with the child growing within her. Idly her hands traced through his hair as his eyes bore into her form. 

"I'm going to be a father." The whisper was almost silent, meant for her ears only. 

"You'll do wonderful, sweetheart." Her pet name for him made his cheeks turn bright red. Immediately he ducked to hide his face against her stomach. Her arms circled him and held him close, lightly scratching at the hairs along the nape of his neck. 

After a moment he glanced up at her. His heart swelled, bubbling in his chest in a way he couldn't describe. Never before had he felt so strongly, so intensely. Rough hands reached for her own again, intertwining their fingers as they did so often before. 

"I love you." The words poured from his mouth before realizing it. "Marry me."

Bonus:

"That scent, she's pregnant." If there was anyone that could recognize the scent of a pregnant woman, it was Tanjirou. After all he had spent most of his childhood with his mother pregnant. 

"Tanjirou! We're going to be uncles!" Murata began to sob on Tanjirou, happy tears running down his face like a waterfall. "Oh my God, we're going to have a baby at the estate!"

Tanjirou laughed to himself as he watched the soon to be parents in the distance. Other than the scent of pregnancy he could smell their happiness. A couple of people, so defeated by the world, could find happiness together. 

If that wasn't poetic, he didn't know what was. 

[dudeandduchess]

Giyuu x F!S/O: A Nightmare Come to Life (Angst, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: A one-sided love that turns even more tragic after a night spent together. Note: @biznichwrites and I are trying out an alternate reality collab fic, and this is the result. We have the same first half (which she wrote), and we divert into different endings. In Biz’s words, think of it as Yin and Yang. You can read Biz’s fluff-filled piece here. Word Count: 9,324

***

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Suicide, Depictions of Blood, Character Deaths, Love Triangles, Talks of the Afterlife

She had filled her head with pretty lies, thoughts of soft, fluffy things that tickled her stomach like butterflies. The sight of one of the few other water breath users - the pillar, in fact - brought a smile to her face. He was perfect for the role - eyes as blue as the ocean, steady like the waves, strong like a deep current, carving his own path like a river, yet calm like the water's surface at night.

What started as infatuation became a crush, leaving her whole world centered around him. Inside she knew she wouldn't grab his attention, even if she was one of a handful of slayers at the water estate. Their rarity made them all busy on missions, there wasn't much time to see each other in passing, so she treasured every moment spent in Giyuu's presence.

Despite their schedules, she tried to do more for him. The maintenance he had performed almost single handedly was spread among the both of them. Mending his uniforms when they were damaged, even his beloved haori once. Salmon was always stocked once she figured out it was his favorite, even going as far as to cook it just as he liked. That was a mistake on her part - his glowing smile pulled her in deeper.

Still she felt her heart ache over the months. No matter what she did he never spoke a word to her, not that he really spoke to anyone else. Had she done something to make him hate her?

The day she had given up on his heart came shortly after. It wasn't often she needed help or saving, but a lower moon was a bit beyond her hope to slay. She had kept neck and neck with it for some time, praying that a pillar would arrive to slay it before it ate her. Like written from a bad romance novel, her Pillar came just as she felt weak after hours of battling, his blade cutting through the neck of the lower moon with ease.

Her knight in shining armor, so to speak. He came to save her, specifically him. Her heart fluttered in joy, tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe he would be impressed that she managed to last so long, to stay alive and keep the moon busy until someone stronger arrived. Her breath hitched as she heard him inhale, as if to speak.

"He wasn't much trouble, you should have been able to slay him. If you're weak you should know not to challenge a moon." He hadn't spared a glance her way, simply flicking his sword to clear it of blood before sheathing it. Her heart broke as he walked on, leaving her to watch the mismatched haori on his back as the distance between them grew.

"Giyuu, you should try to get close to others! I know it's scary but there's plenty of people out there that are nicer than the way Shinobu makes it seem." Tanjirou smiled at the elder water slayer, urging Giyuu to connect to others the way they had, at the very least.

"I'm not sure about that. People don't like me." Giyuu sat with his legs pulled up by the bank of the river they stopped at.

"All you can do is try! Didn't you want to become friends with Sanemi?" Tanjirou wasn't going to let Giyuu escape this time, even if it meant some friendly pestering.

"Yeah, I think he likes ohagi so I was going to give him some." Giyuu stared into the distance, trying to imagine the violent man attempting to receive a gift.

"What about (Y/N)? She's been nice!" Tanjirou was hoping to point out anyone who had been kind to the pillar, at least someone who wasn't filled with malice.

"Who?" Giyuu's face went blank at the name, unable to recall who the name was attached to. "I quit remembering names of most slayers since they die so fast."

Tanjirou deflated at that, finding it sad for Giyuu to view life in such a bleak manner. It felt him grasping at straws to find the correct words to express himself as he thought of what to say next.

"You remembered me before I was a slayer! She survived a solo fight with a lower moon, I don't think she's dying any time soon, you know." Tanjirou hoped the other would understand what he was saying, at the very least.

"Oh… She didn't beat the moon, though." Giyuu, like a child that was done with the conversation, drew idly in the sand below them with a stick.

"Well we can work on the ohagi for Sanemi, how about that?"

Giyuu thought of the girl Tanjirou had mentioned. He didn't know what to make of it all - she had survived, which is what he was looking for in a friend, but she wouldn't have without help. At the same time neither would have Tanjirou. Perhaps he was being too critical, she was still alive and kicking to this day.

However he hadn't seen her much since then. Maybe she was training more? That was enough of an explanation for him. It wasn't unusual for the entire water estate to be empty with as few of the water breath users completed the final selection, much less survived long enough to rank high enough to live in the estate.

The next time he saw her, presumably after a mission as she was returning at dawn, he recognized her more than just a name. He bit his tongue, unsure what to say as he stood on the engawa staring at her tired body limping closer. The moment her eyes caught his she glanced away, turning towards another part of the estate to rest in.

He would have questioned it more, but occurrences like this weren't uncommon. People avoided him, that was normal. Yet the way she kept herself at a distance made him want to find out why she did such a thing. Why did she hide away from him?

His breath caught in his throat one morning, watching as she sat on the far end of the engawa in a simple yukata. She must be getting ready to sleep, given most slayers were nocturnal, but he thought she looked nice in the morning sun. Pretty even.

Months dragged along, her eyes never meeting his own. Yet he felt himself drawn to her. All the actions she had taken before - he hadn't forgotten them, but he hadn't fully appreciated them at the time either. She had done something for him without being asked with nothing in return. Someone that selfless couldn't be a bad person. He still felt a bit bitter with himself for being so critical with her, the same he felt with Tanjirou. Neither deserved that.

It wasn't until Murata and a few others had saved up a large sum of money to buy enough alcohol to drown all the demon slayers, that he had a chance to interact with her. The whole time he was tense, almost awkwardly staring at her the whole time.

"Earth to Giyuu, you there?" Really, Murata was the only one that talked to the pillar so freely, with the exception of Tanjirou. Having kept the pillar alive at one point gave him a bit of the right, so no one spoke of it.

"Hm?" Giyuu's head turned back to Murata, clearly not aware of anything he had just said.

"I was seeing if you were going to drink with us. We're celebrating a year of not losing any water breath users. I figured of anyone you'd want to join." Murata handed him a bottle, not really waiting for a response. Was it responsible for a pillar to drink? Not at all. Had they organized this with Kagaya in mind? Of course, they had consulted with him to make sure they could celebrate freely.

Giyuu stared at the bottle then back to Murata, eyes flickering between the two. "I've never drank before…"

"Now is a good time to start!" Murata laughed with a pat to the pillar shoulder before disappearing into a small bunch of slayers.

Giyuu had drank nearly half the bottle in the course of a few hours, but he didn't find himself relaxed. Rather he found himself in a flurry of emotions - sad remembering everyone he's lost, angry with himself for allowing his life to be ruined by both demons and his own mismanagement of his emotions, but most surprising of all he found himself jealous.

The only female slayer of the bunch was flirted with endlessly. Most of the less than classy lines were met by laughter by the slayers. He knew they were treating it as a joke, even when she pretended to be the man hitting on Murata pretending to be a woman, but he didn't like it. He rested knowing that it was all in fun, though.

His drunken eyes met hers, making her already flushed cheeks even more red than previously before she glanced away. He was happy she was mindful to wear hakama, least the drunk young men around them get any ideas.

"Murataaaaa, when are you gonna get a wife? You keep talking about settling down but you're doing a shit job at it." Her laughter was kind enough, even if she was poking fun.

"(Y/N)! You know I-I-I---! I'm trying! It's just difficult!" Murata floundered under the playful scrutiny before returning a rebuttal, "So when are you getting married (Y/N)?"

"You know I'm dying alone, don't ask dumb questions." She laughed, but the laughter joining her was awkward, quiet and confused. Technically she could pick any slayer and they'd say yes - just for a lack of women around them, especially ones that understood the nature of their jobs. A moment passed but no further comments or banter had been added to the conversation after her bleak comment. Her face heated realizing she had made a fool of herself, not that Murata was much better as he fumbled moving the conversation forward.

Giyuu watched as she tilted up the porcelain of her heated sake, taking in how her throat contracted as she gulped. Was it proper for her to drink like that? No. But it technically wasn't traditional for women to wield swords and hunt demons, so it wasn't like social protocol meant much to her anyway.

Almost silently she slipped away, padding over to her room at the far end of the estate. His eyes followed her movements, taking in the dejected way she looked. Was she broken-hearted? He didn't understand why, she was pretty in her own way, stronger than most gave her credit for, smart enough to stay alive. Maybe he was more fond of her than he let on.

After some time the men grew rowdy, playing games and raising their voices. Murata seemed to stop drinking after a certain point, clearly aware of his limits.

"Murata?" Said slayer turned his attention to Giyuu, almost surprised that he spoke. "Is there something wrong with (Y/N)? She left a bit ago."

"Oh… I made a mistake and brought up something I shouldn't have, she's probably just having some time to herself." Murata prayed the Pillar didn't press for more info, being one of the few she admitted the situation to. He was far too drunk to stop himself from slipping up.

"Is she sad?" The lower ranked slayer blinked at the question, taken aback at how simple it was.

"Yeah, she just has her ways of dealing with it - wait! Where are you going?" Giyuu stood, moving toward the woman's room without another word. Murata prayed it didn't make things worse.

The pillar stood outside her door, listening as her crying was muffled into hitched breaths and harsh inhales to quiet herself. He wasn't sure what he was doing with the alcohol in his system, but he slowly pushed the shoji open and closed it quietly behind him.

"Is there something wrong?" He was trying to be nice but the jump of surprise from her was clearly not the reaction he was searching for. Her hand rested above her heart in surprise before gripping the cloth in anguish.

"I'm fine. You can go back to the others." Her head tilted away, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm sure Murata didn't mean to upset you. Did something happen? Did you lose your fiancé?" It was the only explanation he could rationalize why she wouldn't take a spouse when she had her choice of men flirting with her earlier.

"I said I'm fine. Leave me alone." She flopped back down on her futon, facing away from him. He wished she didn't look so pretty or the light of the moon didn't accentuate the curves of her waist and hips. Despite her words he never left, she knew at the lack of sound her shoji made when open and shut.

Rather he shuffled closer, nowhere near as elegant as he usually moved. Still he slid his fingers into her hair, finding himself rationalizing the feel of her hair with the need to soothe her.

"I'm sure you could find a husband in the slayers if you're worried about that." He didn't like it, especially the thought of not being able to freely look at her and the risk of never being able to touch her again.

"I said my plan was to die alone, it's not that complicated."

"Why?"

"Men don't want a woman like me." Her words croaked from her throat and he could help but sink into the futon and pull her back to his chest. His nose was pressed to the back of her hair and he could bask in her scent.

"That's not true." The more of her he got, the greedier he became. He wanted to remind her that the other water breath users would marry her, but she clearly wasn't interested.

"You don't know that." He felt her back trembling as she held back her distress and he hugged her closer. "I'm covered in scars, I can barely fight and I'm a pitiful slayer, I don't have anything to my name but what I wear, I'm not pretty and dainty like other girls-"

Her hands covered her mouth. She was complaining to the very person that filled her with insecurities. Deep inside she wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. It didn't mean she wasn't bitter. Her love for him had soured, painting her into a corner of self-depreciation. She knew this wasn't him, this was some drunken version of the man likely looking to have a piece of her.

For what it was worth, she would let him. At least it would be the final chapter to the broken heart saga of her life.

"None of that is true."

"I don't need lies to make me feel better."

He was growing a bit frustrated. His hand gripped her waist, both keeping her still and holding her to him. He was painfully aware he could slide his hands lower to grip the curve of her hips or slide his hands upward to cup her breasts.

"You're pretty. A good slayer. You're good as you are." He couldn't think of anything more grand to say, not that he was eloquent with words anyway. He prayed she understood, but the pause in her response made fear eat at his chest. Had he said the wrong thing?

"...Did you want to sleep with me?" That was the only conclusion she could think of. He was drunk and needed a body that was willing. If he was into women she was the closest one, and considering she was the only one in the estate he had to act fast.

"Sleep with you?" His words were quiet, as if he was scared to say them loud enough.

"As in sex. Did you want to have sex with me?" She was only so bold because she was facing away from him. The alcohol and bitter feeling in her chest brought up the question, but she could never work up the nerve to ask if she was looking directly at him.

He buried his face against her neck weighing the options. She was drunk, but so was he. There was no way either should do this. At the same time he doubted the option would ever be available again, especially as his attraction to her grew.

"Yes…"

He hovered over her, pushing in deeply with a moan. Her eyes had shed so many tears through the night, even more when he undressed her, but he couldn't help but to find her more addicting than before.

"You're so warm, oh fuck…" His head rested against her shoulder as he found himself able to thrust into her depths. "You're so beautiful, so perfect."

He heard her crying harder, moans of pleasure breaking through her moans of agony. Long had passed the attempts to calm her tears, especially when she grew nervous when he saw her naked.

He never missed her whispers of self-depreciation, how she fought all compliments that slipped from his lips as he undressed her layer by layer. Even if she found herself disgusting he couldn't agree with her. Every scar he uncovered, every little imperfection his eyes found cemented his infatuation.

It was her, something so unique to only her. No one else could replicate every little aspect of her.

Yet he couldn't make her stop crying. Soft whispers of praise didn't just fall on def ears but only pushed her into further despair. Every kind thing he said only brought more tears.

He didn't miss how her hips canted into his, how her eyes grew hazy as pleasure set in - the way her lips trembled after he kissed her, the second of hope in her eyes before she turned her head away.

The soft hiccups between whimpers were never lost on him. They came at his every kiss and praise, every moment he touched her in a way she enjoyed. As if some part of her wanted to receive his adoration before becoming buried in negativity.

She couldn't deny it, either. Simply knowing he didn't despise her, or at least a part of her, both healed and hurt her. For a moment she had some value to him. She was someone worthy of his sole attention.

Rough hands graced her body, pushing her hair from her face before guiding down her neck to cup her breast, gently squeezing her nipples before tracing her scars down her torso. When he reached her hips one hand held firm while the other graced the area above where they were joined. He remembered in a haze that men had talked about women feeling good there. A clit? All he knew is that her legs tightened around his hips the moment his thumb grazed the tip of the bud.

Abusing such a sensitive spot to see her reactions was a bit cruel on his part, but he wanted to see her relieved of her tears. It was time she felt good - both in terms of sex and about herself. He basked in the moment he hands left her face to cling to the bedding below her.

Dipping down he kissed her lips again, taking in how she seemed to squeeze tighter at the simple piece of affection. Despite the fact she felt inferior he adored having her like this - seeing her broken, in a way no one else has seen before, and the ability to see her put back together again. The vulnerability neither showed the world, only shared with the other.

He shifted his hips, thrusting deeper than before. She clenched around him in ways that made him regret never considering doing this sooner. At the same time, he knew their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Their suffering was similar in a sense, they both could understand not having any value in themselves. Had he really been so blind to her all this time?

"You're so good." His head fell to her shoulder as his hips jerked into her warmth. The man felt elation when she gave in and clung to him. At first her hands were lightly touching, only loosely circling his back. Even if he wasn't sober he recognized enough of her reactions to make her react how he wanted.

Kisses were placed to her cheek and jaw as he tilted his head from her shoulder. Her breath shuttered, her nails timidly scratching his skin as her hold grew more firm.

He didn't expect her to orgasm from such simple affection but he couldn't explain why else her core felt as if it were milking his cock. Her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him flush against her as her face buried into the curve of his neck.

It was welcoming to hear a cry of pleasure rather than anguish. The sound graced him, bringing him to climax shortly after her. Had he been sober he would have been more mindful of mindlessly cumming inside her without a second thought. For the moment he wanted to bask in the feeling. The afterglow of sex was only highlighted by the feeling on her nuzzling into his neck.

For a moment she accepted him. Someone liked him, even if he could still hear her hiccup as warm tears covered her cheeks again. He considered wiping her tears away but decided that he would rather let her hide against his chest. It was somewhere safe, where the judgements of the world that had brought her so low couldn't touch her.

Her heart throbbed at the feeling of him holding her close, even as they shifted to lay chest to chest on the futon. His cum dripping out to dirty her thighs wouldn't deter her for enjoying the moment. Regret and shame could come later, for now she wanted to accept just a grain on the validation he gave. Even if he regretted in the morning she wanted to savor the moment.

*** [Jen’s part starts here]

When morning came, Giyuu greeted it with a heavy heart and an even heavier head. Flashes of what he’d done the night before played in his mind; and with every memory that flickered in his mind’s eye, he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper into the pit that was his stomach.

It was true that he realized that he was fonder of (Y/n) than most, but he was in no way prepared to take on the responsibility of caring for someone else’s emotions. He could barely even keep himself in check, who was to say that he could help heal her broken heart?

Especially when he was the one whom had broken it in the first place.

There was nothing more that he wanted to do than to get out of that room before she woke up, but the sight of her curled up beneath the lilac blanket had him staying right where he was. The least he could do was tell it to her straight, instead of running away like a coward.

He had to tell her that what had happened between them was a mistake.

And that was how (Y/n) came to: seeing Giyuu sitting right next to her— with his clothes already on, and with his head in his hands, as if the weight of the world had been perched on his shoulders.

A small smile made its way onto her face as she sat upright— gripping the blanket tight to her naked chest, and gently laying a hand against his arm. Only, instead of welcoming her touch, the Pillar’s body tensed up.

She felt her heart sink at that, as her smile dissolved into a confused frown. Had she done something wrong? Was last night not good for him? Did he find her repulsive in the morning light? Those thoughts kept flitting around inside her head, weighing her emotions down even more than they were when her brain had been addled with so much alcohol.

Slowly, she retracted her hand away from him and moved to tuck the blanket beneath her arms— holding them up to cover her modesty, even though she knew that he’d already seen everything. There was just something about being around him at that moment that had her feeling so insecure of herself; like she’d known all along, no one would have found her appealing, least of all the Water Pillar.

Giyuu tried to reach into himself to find the right words to say, almost clinging on to the notion of spouting lies in his desperation to spare her feelings. But he couldn’t do that to her, not after he’d taken the last thing she had left to offer him, aside from his heart.

“Thank you for last night,” The young man began softly, and his words felt like a harsh slap to (Y/n)’s face. Because those words weren’t the words of love that she’d fantasized about; they were cold and flat, as if he was saying them out of politeness instead of sincerity.

She’d known that it was going to be impossible to make him fall in love with her; but it didn’t hurt any less to have him try to gently turn her down, just as he was doing at that moment. Everything in her wanted her to scream and rage, to make him do the impossible task of turning back time— if only so she could push him away.

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, even though she tried so hard to keep herself from showing him any kind of reaction. Her chest grew even heavier with the silent expectations that she’d had for his next few words— mentally bracing herself for a spiel that was going to push her away from him for good.

“But last night… can’t happen again. It was never supposed to happen.”

Still, when he uttered the words, she couldn’t help but flinch and look down at her lap— where her hands were worrying the lilac-colored blanket between her fingertips. And, no matter how hard she tried to push back her tears, they still welled up in her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks in hot rivulets.

Words had eluded her, as all she could think about was Giyuu’s own sentence that more or less said that sleeping with her had been a mistake.

“I can’t be in a relationship with anyone right now; I won’t be good for you, nor will I be good for anyone else.”

(Y/n) pursed her lips at that, cutting off the sob that wanted to escape her lips, as his words burrowed themselves deep into her heart— cutting her deeper and deeper until she felt like there was nothing left inside her chest.

Instead of staying, however, Giyuu slowly got up from where he sat and made his way over to the door— pointedly avoiding looking at the crying woman, whom was barely holding herself together in his presence. “I’m sorry, (L/n). Please forget everything that happened last night.”

The slayer couldn’t even bring herself to look up at him, even well after he had closed the shoji quietly behind himself. Her entire body felt so helplessly broken and cold, numb down to the tips of her fingers, and easily fragile even as she moved to hug herself in an effort to hold herself together.

That was the last day she had ever talked to Giyuu, let alone even looked at him. It made for an awkward time around the Water Estate, so she had gotten in contact with the one person whom she knew she could count on to save her.

It was a desperate attempt to cling on to Sanemi, but it was all she could do when she had been backed into a corner with no other option. It was either she moved in with her childhood friend, or risked Giyuu finding out the secret that she so desperate wanted to keep from him.

She would not have acted so delicately in any other situation, but as time went on— she noticed that Giyuu had been coming back to the estate later and later; until he would be gone for days at a time with no word to anyone if he was out on a mission or on an errand.

The Pillar she had known was not like that at all, so it was a cause for suspicion.

(Y/n) had tried to avoid him as much as she could, but doing her old tasks of mending his uniform and haori, as well as washing his clothes had been hard to let go of— as everyone already had a routine that they had stuck to, and no one was willing to switch chores with her, unless she told them the real reason why she suddenly wanted to switch to doing kitchen tasks instead.

And in doing those tasks, she slowly found that his uniforms and haori were always newly mended, with the subtle signs of a feminine touch. But it wasn’t until she’d seen the embroidered heart on the sleeve of his haori that she’d arrived at the conclusion that he was seeing someone.

His words of how he couldn’t be in a relationship with anyone played in her mind, as a bitter laugh bubbled free from her lips— which was then followed by such quiet and breathless sobs that made her feel even sorrier for herself.

Because there she was, still in love with the same man whom had turned down her love and was adamant about not being in a relationship with her. Only to find out that he was seeing someone else; maybe even loved that someone.

That would explain why he was brooding less often on the rare days when he stayed in the estate, and would also explain why his overall aura seemed lighter than before.

Of course, it hurt, and she knew that she couldn’t keep turning a blind eye to it— not when his mere presence was an insult to her pain.

That was how she found herself moving in with Sanemi and telling him everything that had happened between her and Giyuu, before eventually coming clean with the fact that she was two months along with a baby— Giyuu’s baby, to be exact.

Sanemi had offered to take the child in as his own, and had even made hints of wanting to marry (Y/n)— all of which she had adamantly refused. Because she couldn’t do to anyone else what Giyuu had done to her, and that was use her.

“I can take care of you. No one would even dare to say anything if the baby doesn’t look like me, as long as I say that I’m the father,” Sanemi had insisted, cupping her face gently in his hands and wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Please, (Y/n)… let me take care of you.”

Little did she know that Sanemi’s words weren’t being said out of a false sense of duty, rather for something completely genuine and heartfelt. He felt for her what Giyuu never did, yet Sanemi was too hesitant to put any pressure on her— as he was ready to keep her in any way he could, rather than lose her altogether.

The Wind Pillar loved her too much to do that to her, so he lived most of their life keeping his own feelings to himself. It hurt to see her pine after a man who didn’t want her in the first place, and it hurt him even more when he found out that she had been used the way she had, so enough was enough.

He had wholeheartedly accepted her to move into the Wind Estate, ushering her to just leave her things at the Water Estate— all so she wouldn’t have to bear witness to more of Giyuu’s thinly concealed happiness.

It took everything in him not to throttle the Water Pillar the last time they’d had a meeting at the Demon Slayer headquarters, because that content expression on Giyuu’s face grated so badly on his nerves— especially since he always heard (Y/n)’s soft cries at night, when she thought that everyone was already asleep.

Even being near Giyuu made Sanemi’s hackles rise, because he believed that he shouldn’t be so content with his life— not when he had left (Y/n) hurting by herself. To add insult to injury, Giyuu hadn’t even asked anyone for (Y/n)’s whereabouts— which he had initially expected to happen.

But it appeared that Sanemi had expected too much, because it seemed that the other Pillar didn’t even care at all. He didn’t even give any indication that he was worried about (Y/n) at all; and that only angered Sanemi even more.

He would be damned if he even let Giyuu get a glimpse of (Y/n) or her child ever again. So, he swore to never let the Water Pillar close enough to hurt the person he loved the most; never again.

***

All the while, Giyuu felt like he was walking on cloud nine. For once in his life, he felt content and mildly happy in the arms of his lover. However, that contentedness could only last so long, until the thoughts of that night with (Y/n) played in his mind.

Every kiss and every touch plagued him when he was weakest, and the more that he dwelled on his guilt, the more that he felt empty inside; as if the happiness he felt showed its true nature by being fleeting and temporary.

He tried to mask it at first, pretending to keep up the act that nothing was bothering him— just like how he’d felt in the first few months with his lover. The words he’d said to (Y/n) the morning after had him shaking his head to get rid of them, and it was easy to ignore at first— until it had gotten up to the point where he couldn’t even have a moment’s peace without his words coming to gnaw at his conscience.

He knew that he’d done (Y/n) so much wrong by lying to her like that— by telling her that he wasn’t suited to be with anyone when, in reality, he just wasn’t ready to open his heart up to her; at least, not at the time. It was easier to open his heart up to someone who didn’t have a clue that demons existed— someone whom he knew he wouldn’t be able to lose, if he just kept them in the dark.

He had let his own irrational fears decide for him, but what was done had already been done— and he couldn’t take anything back.

His shame and guilt were the main reasons why he never sought her out, even though he had heard that she was living with Shinazugawa at that point.

Did he feel guilty? Yes. Was it taking its toll on his newfound relationship? Definitely.

Giyuu had gotten to the point where he couldn’t even close his eyes without seeing how broken (Y/n) was when he’d left her in her room.

And it wasn’t until he’d seen (Y/n) come back to the Water Estate with Shinazugawa that things had snapped into place for him. Jealousy stirred within his chest, especially when he saw the care and gentleness that the Wind Pillar treated her with— and he found himself wishing that it was him in his place.

The way that the silver-haired Pillar was acting towards her could have been construed as how a husband would act with a wife, and Giyuu found the thought of (Y/n) being married to his comrade leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Still, he could only look on from outside her room, as they picked out the things that she wanted to take— namely: her family’s mementos.

And no matter how hard he tried to talk to her, Sanemi made a point to cut him off and take up all of her attention; leaving him feeling so unneeded and uselessly dismissed to the side, as if he didn’t even matter.

Giyuu couldn’t even say anything as they left with nothing but a small rucksack of the things she had wanted to bring— leaving her room in pretty much the same state as she had left it in, in the first place.

He’d tried to get a hold of her after that, sending her numerous letters via crow and always getting them sent back in an untouched state. All that was left for him to do was go and visit her at the Wind Estate, but he was saving that last desperate attempt for when he really needed it most.

But, not even his lover’s company was enough to keep his mind off of (Y/n); always seeing her face in his mind whenever he closed his eyes, and silently wishing that it was him that she had been talking to and softly smiling at on that day when she returned to his Estate.

He wished that he was Shinazugawa, all so he could have her in his arms again.

So, that was how he found himself ending things with his civilian lover; feeling horrible that he hadn’t felt as much guilt when ending things with her, as opposed to how he felt when he pushed (Y/n) away.

When he’d gotten back to his estate the morning after breaking things off with his lover, he found things much more silent than usual. There was no activity in any part of the grounds, and it seemed that there were no slayers in the house; even those who should have been asleep weren’t there.

It was as if his estate had suddenly become a ghost town.

And it was only in the afternoon, as he was sipping on his tea, that he found out exactly what the cause of everyone’s absence was.

Murata staggered into the house with his arms slung over two other slayers’ shoulders. His face was all red and blotchy, while his cheeks were marred with both fresh and dried tear tracks that had Giyuu setting his tea cup down and listening in to what was happening.

“I can’t believe that she’s gone,” Murata cried through a sob, shaking his head in disbelief as the two other men carried him through the halls— stopping right by the doors that led to the engawa, and bowing as a show of respect to Giyuu.

“Gone? Who?” The Pillar asked softly, feeling a tinge of uneasiness touch his chest as he waited in nervous anticipation for his subordinates’ answers.

However, the lower ranked slayers looked between each other before one of them spoke up, “It’s (L/n), Tomioka-sama. She was found dead last night… by seppuku.”

Giyuu felt as if his entire world had stopped at hearing the news. His entire body felt cold, and his heart had all but stopped beating inside his chest. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes, as he furrowed his eyebrows in bewildered confusion— and denial.

His heart, which he had held so carefully within himself, began to crack with every shaky exhale that passed from his lips. And he tried opening his mouth to speak, only to close it when no words would come out— until his own tears spilled over and ran down his face in hot rivulets.

He hadn’t wasted anymore time after that; instantly making his way towards the Wind Estate and getting there when dusk had long since bathed the world in darkness.

Lanterns lit up the path that led to the estate, where people were trickling out of the gates in either pairs of small groups. Most of them were expressing their pity towards the husband of the deceased, which confused Giyuu immensely; not to mention the fact that it harped on his nerves, as his jealousy reared its ugly head inside him.

“I heard that she was five months along. Poor child.”

He pushed past the thinning crowd, feeling his heart begin to race even more as reality slowly began to set in.

She really was gone.

And it was only when he reached the wake that had been set up in the backyard that the tears he’d thought had long run empty began to roll down his cheeks once more.

Flowers adorned each and every vacant space of the altar that (Y/n)’s body had been laid on; all of them in a creamy white color that seamlessly mirrored the kimono she wore. But it wasn’t the ornate kimono, or the grandiose display that caught Giyuu’s attention; it was the smaller, but not less ornate, kimono that had been laid over (Y/n)’s chest— with her hands cupped over it, as if protecting it from the world.

He felt the last bit of his heart wilt away at the sight of it, because a part of him just knew… that child was his; or, it had been.

“What the fuck are you doing here? I didn’t invite you.” A familiar voice snarled behind Giyuu, making him whirl around and meet Sanemi’s angry lilac eyes. They were more bloodshot than usual, and seemed puffy— as if he had just gotten done crying.

“I have a right to be here.”

“The fuck you do. You did this to her!” Sanemi yelled angrily, shoving the other Pillar with all the strength he could muster, and knocking him down onto the ground before the altar. At that point, more tear had overflowed from his eyes, and were dripping down his face; yet he made no move to wipe them away. “I loved her. I wanted to give her the world, but all she wanted was a bastard like you!”

The Wind Pillar lunged at Giyuu at that point, unmindful of the bewildered crowd around them as he reared his fist back and landed a solid punch to Giyuu’s face.

“You’re the reason she’s gone! You don’t deserve to fucking see her again!” Before he could throw another punch, Sanemi was pulled off of Giyuu by two pairs of strong arms— and when Giyuu looked up, it was to see both Gyōmei and Rengoku looking down at him with what he could only construe as pity.

Still, as his fellow Pillars pulled Sanemi away, he could still hear the other man’s cries of how he had never deserved to even look at (Y/n) in the first place.

Giyuu looked back at where (Y/n) laid, feeling shame envelope him more and more the longer he stared at her from his place on the ground. He didn’t even make a move to stand up, because he was so ashamed of what he had done to her.

And, for once, he agreed with Sanemi: he had never really deserved to even look at (Y/n) in the first place.

Still, the longer he looked at her body, the more he felt his guilt gnawing at him. The longer that he took her in, the more that he couldn’t keep himself from thinking just how much pain she had been in when she was dying.

He couldn’t help but think that she had suffered all of that pain, just so she could be free of him. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

***

To say that Giyuu felt tired was the understatement of the century. He was so torn and beat up, and missing one arm as he waited for death to consume him. He couldn’t even feel anything as he felt the last ounces of life drain away at his fingertips.

But, in his last moments, all that filled his mind were thoughts of (Y/n) and all of his regrets— as all of them had to do with her and their unborn child.

He knew that he shouldn’t have pushed her away like that; that things could have been different had he stayed and tried to open his heart up to her. He also knew that things would have been different— that he would have been happy in his final moments— had he tried to give (Y/n) the life that she deserved.

If he had just tried to love her back, instead of taking so long to realize the real extent of his feelings for her, then maybe— just maybe— he would have been fighting even harder to stay alive.

Images of what he thought their child would have looked like flickered in his mind; each one bringing more tears to his eyes than the last. He saw her holding their child, smiling at him so warmly as she welcomed him home— a thought that would never come true, because he had been the one who’d pushed her to end her own life.

And, in her death, all those dreams of the simple life they could have had as a family plagued him— as if it were an alternate reality that was playing in his mind whenever he found enough solace to fall asleep. In his dreams she was happy— greeting him so warmly at their own home after he came home from a mission.

But the part that made his heart ache the most were the images of a baby boy— with blue eyes, much like his— who would crawl on the floor just to get to him; clinging tightly to his hakama just so he could stand up on his own two feet and demand to be carried.

“Papa, up! Yuu miss papa!” The boy would cry out, almost close to tears as he looked up at Giyuu earnestly. And, like always, it would make the Water Pillar’s heart ache— because it was another reminder of what he could have had, but had chosen to let go of.

Happiness was within his grasp, yet he’d thrown it away out of fear. He’d cast (Y/n) aside and had never tried to make amends, so it was his own fault that she was gone.

She hadn’t wanted to be a burden to Sanemi, and she hadn’t wanted to beg for scraps of his affection— so she had done what she thought was necessary to free him and the Wind Pillar of any sort of obligation to her.

He’d only found that out after Shinazugawa had— reluctantly— given him a short letter that wasn’t even meant for his eyes. They were only meant for Sanemi, but the other pillar had wordlessly given him the piece of paper during one of their Pillar meetings, and had not spoken to him since.

A tourniquet had been wrapped around his wound, yet he still felt nothing as medics raced to patch him up as best as they could. He couldn’t even lift his head up, what with the heaviness of his thoughts weighing him down.

Giyuu could only let his head loll to the side as he took in the way that the only remaining Pillar— aside from him— had been wrapped tightly in bandages. But, he’d noticed, that he kept his right hand enclosed tightly around something.

The medics had tried to get him to let go of it, after they’d thought that he was already asleep— but were met with hostile glares and snarls that warned them to stay away from whatever he had been holding.

And it was only when Sanemi had already passed out that he saw what the other man had been tightly holding on to: it was the very necklace that (Y/n) had come back for that day at his estate. He’d seen it briefly when he had been waiting for her to wake up, and there was no mistaking it— it really was (Y/n)’s.

He felt his chest tighten at the sight of it, and part of him longed to reach out and claim it for himself; but another part of him— the more rational and conscientious side— had him stay right where he was.

After all, he was the reason that she was gone in the first place. Just like he was the reason that his sister had died, and also why Sabito had died.

And as he thought more about it, the more he realized that all he brought to others were pain and suffering— and death.

So maybe, dying at that moment was a fair price to pay for all the people he’d hurt in that lifetime. He could only hope to see his sister and Sabito briefly, or maybe even (Y/n), before he accepted his fate in hell.

BONUS:

Cold, icy fear gripped (Y/n)’s heart tightly; the pressure only getting heavier and heavier on her chest as she placed a shaky hand on top of her abdomen— ignoring the warm blood that had already soaked through her yukata, and was slowly pooling on the floor where she sat.

She couldn’t even lift her head with the shame she felt weighing down on her shoulders, because she had chosen the most cowardly way to go. It wasn’t what she had been raised to believe in, but it was the only form of escape she could think of.

Still she hoped, and prayed, that Sanemi would never resort to blaming himself for her decision to end it all; and that Giyuu would find it in himself to forgive her.

At the very thought of Giyuu, more broken sobs left her chapped lips— making her muscles contract, and agitating her self-inflicted wound even further. It hurt so much that she just wanted it to be over— that she just wanted to feel her life drain out of her at a faster pace— but she knew she deserved to feel all of the hurt that she could in her last few moments.

She deserved to suffer, not because she was taking the coward’s way out, but because she was taking an innocent life along with her.

Her hands moved to cup the small baby bump on her stomach, knowing that whatever life that had been in there was already gone— or already close to being gone. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her words repeated themselves over and over in her head— inevitably bringing her back to the moment when she had written the very same words, with shaky hands, on parchment; immortalizing them in a letter that she had addressed to Giyuu.

I loved you when I didn’t even love myself. And that was wrong of me. I’m so sorry, Giyuu.

More tears rolled down her cheeks, as her heartache doubled at the memory of writing the words down played in her mind. She could feel what was left of her soul slowly chipping away, with guilt and fear gnawing at it for having claimed to love a man that she knew would never even love her.

I’m sorry to the child that could have been; a broken mother, and a father who didn’t want it… I couldn’t do that to it. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, Giyuu.

Please, it’s all I ask… that in another lifetime, if you ever see me again, that you would not hate me for doing what I thought was best for you and the baby.

Maybe, in another life, in an alternate reality, we could have been happy… just not in this one.

Her head was beginning to spin with the blood loss, and she knew that it wouldn’t take long before she finally met her fate— so, with one last prayer, she asked the spirits of her deceased family members to take care of her child when she crossed over, and to look after Giyuu.

All because she knew that she would never be able to do it from hell.

“I’m so sorry,” were her last words to the life that had been inside her, before she slowly succumbed to her mortality.

And, when she came to, it was to a cold and desolate place that was filled with nothing but darkness. No matter where she looked, all she could see was pitch black.

Of course, she was afraid, but all of that fear vanished when she looked down at her arms and saw a tiny child that was swathed in a white blanket. Her breath caught in her throat, as guilt bubbled up inside her— lodging itself in her throat and making her tear up as she took in more and more of its features in the dim light trained on her.

With the lightest touch she could muster, she lifted her right hand up to the baby’s cheek and traced its smooth cheek— gasping softly when it opened its eyes and presented her with irises that were much like Giyuu’s blue ones.

“Hello, you must be (Y/n).” The soft and melodic voice had the young woman jumping in surprise— tightening her grip around her baby and holding him closer to her chest, as if to protect it from the stranger. And when she looked up, she was met with the face of two women— much more beautiful than her, and with presences so comforting that it made her want to hug them and cry in their arms. “I’m Tsutako. Tomioka Tsutako.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened at that, as she knew that Giyuu had had an older sister once upon a time; someone he had never mentioned, but had been talked about within the lower ranks of the slayers— and it was, regretufully, how she knew.

“You might not remember me, but I’m Shizu…” The other woman whispered, smiling slightly all the while.

“I… you’re Sanemi’s mother. I remember,” (Y/n) admitted quietly, trying to hold back her tears as reality sank in: she really was in the afterlife. She’d died and brought her child along with her.

She didn’t even dare to ask why they were there; she already knew the reason. Her family’s spirits had ostracized her and didn’t even bother to show themselves to take her baby to heaven with them. It was a thought that stung her deeply, but she had no choice but to shoulder it and try to pretend that it wasn’t affecting her at all.

All so she could save face.

(Y/n)’s eyes flitted from one woman’s gaze to another, knowing full well whom she was supposed to go with, and what she was supposed to do. Yet, her limbs stayed frozen— wanting to hold on to her baby for a little longer, even though she knew that they didn’t have forever to stay in limbo.

She looked down once more at hers and Giyuu’s son, inhaling deeply as she brought him up to her face and pressed a kiss to his forehead; desperately fighting off the tears that had clouded her vision, and had begun to stream down her face in hot rivulets.

It felt like her heart was breaking all over again, as soon as she’d had a momentary taste of happiness.

“Please take care of him,” (Y/n) whispered, nuzzling the tip of her nose against her baby’s cheek and memorizing how he smelled like; as it was the first and last time that she was ever going to see him. “And please always tell him how much his mama would have loved him. And that she’s sorry for not giving him a chance to live.”

Her tears had dripped onto the now-sleeping baby’s face, which she wiped off with the tips of her fingers— right before hugging him close one last time; savoring every second that ticked by, before she reluctantly stepped towards Tsutako and handed him off to her.

“Your father would have adored you.” Giyuu’s older sister gave (Y/n) a sad smile at that, fully knowing what it was like to have to say goodbye to someone she loved, and held the swathed bundle close to her heart. “Does he have a name?”

“Yuu. His name is Yuu.”

[monysmediareview]

Juliet, a novel by Ann Fortier Review

This time I have a review for a one-off book rather than a series for you guys and it may have actually reached the top of my list for favorite books ever. Juliet, a novel by Anne Fortier was so incredibly good I worry I’ll never be able to fully describe the way it made me feel reading it. I read this book incredibly slow because the idea of finishing it made me so upset; I didn’t want it to end but also found myself thinking about it constantly.

The Shakespeare of it All

When I found this book at goodwill, I figured I’d grab it just to see what it was. Having a degree in theatre and having studied Shakespeare in Europe, I even work for a Shakespeare specific theatre; I figured it would at the very least be interesting. And I was right, but for the wrong reasons. Shakespeare is barely mentioned as the book is actually about the true story of Romeo & Juliet.

If you don’t already know, Shakespeare stole the story of Romeo & Juliet from an Italian poet who wrote the story in the early to mid 1500’s. That story may have also been stolen from another author from France, and maybe even someone else before that. Thanks to the lack of records or copyright laws, there’s not really a way to be sure but we do know that Shakespeare was not the first, only the most famous. And to be fair, his story is much more intense since it takes place over the course of less than a week while the original plot takes months. There are a few other differences between the two but the gist of it is, two star crossed lovers separated by family feuds and ending in tragedy. And this book takes us through all of that drama and gives us a beautiful and dramatic ending to it all.

The Real Story

Some of the things I loved about this book were actually the historical events and characters. The three families in the story, the Tolomeis, the Salimbenis, and the Marescottis were apparently all real families that had feuds and stories fairly similar to what happened in this book. Fortier wrote in her authors note that she did take some liberties with the history for the sake of the story but that she tried to be faithful to them. I do highly suggest reading her author’s note if you get the book because for me, it made it that much more special.

I think that her ability to blend the past and present was well executed and emotional in ways I wasn’t expecting. I really felt the connection between the Romeo and Giulietta of 1340 and the Romeo and Guiletta of the early 2000’s. Her ability to connect these people not only by blood but by fate and destiny and emotion and passion is unmatched and she managed to do it in roughly 500 pages.

Divine Intervention

I am normally not a fan of books with religious undertones, especially without some kind of supernatural explanation to it but in Juliet it really didn’t strike me as prevalent even though it was. The Virgin Mother and the “curse on both your houses” are two huge driving forces behind this story. Both felt like completely natural pieces of the puzzle rather than an overbearing push for Catholic guilt which could have easily been the case in a story set in Italy spanning 600 years with generational family drama. There was a real feeling of the Virgin Mother being the overseer of the fate of these people and bringing them together, to righting the wrongs done in the past. In a lot of other books this might have felt preach-y or overbearing but it actually made fate feel real.

Love Story

I’m a sucker for a good romance book; I will read love story after love story after love story, but even I can get tired of the same plot over and over again. Sometimes the misogyny gets tiring and I want these female led stories to be about more than finding a man to complete them and this book gave me exactly that.

The story starts and ends with Julie Jacobs’ family. She needs to learn about her family, about her history, where she’s really from. I got so sucked into her journey of self discovery that I kind of forgot it was a love story for a while. And that kind of messed me up when we got there because I had missed a lot of the chemistry build up that I had to think back about to even realize it was there. I was so focused on her learning about her father and visiting banks and libraries that I nearly missed her falling completely in love. But in the end it was one of the most passionate and tumultuous love stories, because when you’re Romeo & Juliet, how could you have anything else?

My Personal Opinion on R&J

Following that I want to talk quickly about Romeo & Juliet. If you’ve taken a Shakespeare class or even just a high school English class at some point you’ve probably talked about this. Sometimes it gets glossed over because it’s one of the well known stories and they don’t usually waste time on it but I’m going to.

Classes like this tend to brush these lovers off as horny teenagers who are in lust and get married so they can bone each other but I think that’s a sad approach. I’ll even admit that was my view on it for a while, but not now. It’s a love story. It’s the love story. So to read an in depth story like this that doesn’t diminish the real feelings they had for each other was very pleasing. I might write a whole thing about some of my Shakespeare opinions one day but for now I will leave you with this:

To thine own self be true. Shakespeare is theatre. It isn’t mean to be read, it’s meant to be staged. And the beauty of theatre is that every single production of every play is different (at least it’s supposed to be. Some directors have yet to learn this, but I digress). This means that everyone interprets things differently, so while I think Romeo & Juliet are the ultimate lovers, you might think they were just horny teenagers. And that’s okay.

Generational Drama

Generational stories like this hold a special place in my heart. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but the idea of fate and family and stories that span hundreds of years just really get me. I won’t go on about this too much because I’ve already mentioned it a few times but I love the redemption that Romeo and Guilietta get through their ancestors, even if it was 600 years later. I love that their love lasted generations and the thought of how the spirits of the original couple feel looking at themselves, their ancestors, finally bringing their families together chokes me up a little if I’m being honest.

Alessandro

I was really not counting on Alessandro being such an important piece of this story, but his evolution as a character was a fucking ride. Going from a security guard/driver, to basically an undercover cop, to potential lover, to fake identity, to actual lover, to liar and cheat, to being framed and actually being a lover and savior was intense. Ideal. I loved and hated him through the whole thing but I was very happy with where he ended up.

Symbolism

There is so much symbolism in this book. The gems being the color of their eyes, the golden statues, the paintings, the maestros. All of it. It can be found on almost every page. But there were a few that really stood out to me.

The cencio and dagger constantly popping up as important of the story for Giulietta was not lost on me. I’m still tossing around what I think it really means, actually, but where I stand now is the idea of an official marriage and what makes it official in the eyes of the Virgin Mother. Romeo and Giulietta weren’t considered actually married because they never consummated and it didn’t happen on the cencio if it had. So for it to have been hidden in Julie’s bed after that weird secret ceremony with Alessandro, was interesting because they also weren’t really married. Not the way we think of now. It just shows that marriage isn’t defined by sex (which I think futher proves my point that this was never just about horny teenagers. As well as the entirety of this book), or by words. Marriage is defined by love and commitment.

And then there’s the River Diana. Another thing I haven’t quite landed on a full meaning for, but I know what it made me feel. It’s hard to put into words, but the first word that came to mind was literally symbolism. This story, this curse, killed Diana, Julie’s mother. And now Julie made it to the statue, and she found her Romeo and in the moment that she almost dies it’s by drowning in the River Diana. This whole time she was drowning in what her mother started for her and it’s Alessandro that pulls her out and saves her from it. Being with him is what keeps her alive, from being swept away by this curse the way her mother was. So maybe it’s symbolic of the end. Of not falling into the same pattern or being swept into the same current.

Plot Twists

This story never went where I thought it was going to go. I don’t actually want to talk about the plot twists too much because I want people reading this to be as surprised as I was. Not like I didn’t spoil things before but there are still quite a few things I didn’t mention that really fucked me up if I’m being honest.

If you’re a fan of plot twists, please read this book.

Ye Olde Slow as Hell Language

I don’t want to scare anyone off here - most of the book is in modern language and even the parts that take us back to 1300 aren’t that bad. But they are far more detailed and can sometimes just feel really slow. But all of the information is really important so I wouldn’t skip it. But the language and the flow of the story really slows things down in these parts and it’s what made me take so long to finish this book. Well that and the fact that I just wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I finished it too soon.

However, I will give the author credit for having parallel story lines set so far apart. She really pulled it off and made the entire thing just so magical. By the time they died, I didn’t want to leave that world. I wanted to stay and watch them be happy but then I got to go back to Julie and watch her get her happily ever after

Janet’s Character Development

Right off the bat we’re supposed to hate Janet. And we do. She’s awful and when she shows back up we kind of hate her even more because of what she’s been doing. I didn’t feel sorry for her in the slightest. Up until the last few chapters of the book, these twin sisters felt very estranged so to go from that to them being a fantastic duo that you root for was a twist I wasn’t ready for but whole heartedly welcomed. It was a nice change of pace to see a female character arc into a better person instead of someone who got increasingly bitter. Still not a huge fan of the character but she ended up being kind of important and at least it passed the Betchdel test, right?

In Conclusion

I think this might be my favorite book now. High recommend.

[emeraldspiral]

HOW JEDI LEIA FAILS ON EVERY CONCEIVABLE LEVEL AND OMITTING BEN FROM THE FINAL SCENE NOT ONLY HAD THE OPPOSITE EFFECT JJERRIO WERE GOING FOR BUT THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TRYING TO MAKE THE FINAL SCENE ABOUT LEIA’S “ASCENSION” TO THE JEDI PANTHEON WAS NEVER GOING TO WORK ANYWAY.

First of all; Leia reaches out to Ben as if he's at his worst and she's pulling him back from the brink when it's actually Rey who's going nuts and Ben just defending himself, never taking a single offensive swing at her, even already lowering his blade before she acts. This results in him getting stabbed, confusing the audience as to whether that was her intent or not. Leia then dies and it's unclear even how or why. This could've been explained, using pre-established rules set-up in TLJ, as Leia using the fatal Force projection technique to bring Ben a vision of Han, or introducing the ability of Force Sensitives to recall non-Force Sensitive spirits from the afterlife, which would've been perfectly believable as a fatal technique, even if it wasn't set-up beforehand. But instead, Terrio the Terrible claims Han was entirely a figment of Ben's imagination and Leia had nothing to do with it. So what should’ve been Leia’s greatest moment of heroism ends up being confusing, achieving way less than anyone thought, and kinda making her look bad, actually.

Second; Leia gives up her Jedi training because she had a vision that her son would die at the end of her path. Then Luke gives Rey Leia's saber and tells her she'd want her to finish her journey. None of that makes any goddamned sense.

What is a Jedi's path? Is it the trial they take to graduate from Padawan to full Jedi, or Jedi to Master Jedi? Is it a life mission, or just whatever current mission they're on? I mean, arguably Leia's whole life was dedicated to destroying the Empire, so even if she never met Palps or knew anything about how he'd personally victimized her family you could say defeating him was finishing what she started. But Leia was fighting the Empire long before she started her training, before she ever knew she had the Force, and she didn’t stop fighting after she quit training. She didn’t need to be a Jedi or a Skywalker to fight Palpatine and the Empire anymore than any other non-Force Sensitive in the Republic/Resistance. Her life would’ve been pretty much the same if she never found out about her lineage or abilities. The concept of a "Jedi path" is just words in a sequence that means nothing to the audience, so how was anybody supposed to get that Rey using her saber to defeat Palpatine would complete it so she could “ascend”?

Not to mention that the very idea that you can complete someone else's journey that way goes against any natural train of logic that anybody would have. Like, it'd be one thing if Leia died like the characters in R1, who give their lives so others can complete another leg of the journey, or to pass along something crucial to achieving victory. But she doesn’t save Rey when she dies, because she’s not in danger, and she certainly didn’t need to die to pass along her saber to Rey, even if you want to argue that her saber was crucial to Palpatine’s defeat.

Leia's death had no correlation to Rey's victory and that's not even how Terrio explains it. He frames it like using Leia's saber fulfilled her Jedi path, rather than Leia’s Jedi path being fulfilled by her making a sacrifice that allowed Rey to finish what she started by defeating Palpatine. This, coupled with the “burying symbolic infants” thing indicates that JJerrio are trying to deify lightsabers as if they’re extensions of a Jedi’s spirit, rather than tools, despite canon indicating otherwise. Anakin broke at least two sabers before he got the one that was passed on to Luke and he and Obi-Wan wielded random spares in the climax of AotC. Luke loses the legacy saber and just builds a new one, then tosses it aside when he commits to not killing in anger. Lightsabers are cool and sentimental because they’re handmade and personalized, but at the end of the day, they’re still just tools that can get lost or broken or even thrown away and it’s not that big a deal. It’s not even like in Harry Potter where you only get one wand that bonds to you and you’ll never be able to perform your best magic with any other so you’d better not break it.

Third; After Ben dies, Leia's body disappears and Maz smiles and nobody understands why. It sounds like Terrio's intent was that Leia could only "ascend to the Jedi pantheon" when her path was complete, (which goes against the canon explanation about who gets to become a ghost and how) and the conditions for completing her path were apparently 1) Palpatine had to be defeated by someone using her lightsaber and 2) her son had to die. But because the Jedi path thing made no sense and directly contradicts canon on multiple points, nobody gets it. So everyone grasps at straws trying to come up with reasonable explanations like, "She was waiting to meet her son" or "She was supposed to use the last of her life force to save Ben and subvert the prophecy before the ending was changed.”

Fourth; Ben's body disappearing ends up muddying the waters further because we don't know what the conditions are for someone to become a ghost either at the moment of their death or after a delayed period of time. Why do Luke, Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Ben's bodies disappear instantly but Leia, Anakin, Qui-Gon, and all the other Jedi killed during Order 66 don't? It's only ever briefly mentioned to be a technique that you have to learn at the end of ROTS so in most people's minds becoming a ghost, whether it's instantly or not, is kinda considered the default for Jedi and not just reserved for the elite few.

Because of this, Ben disappearing reads as significant to the audience because it means he died a hero like Anakin and went to space heaven. But you expect that of Leia, because she was always a good guy, and had Jedi training, so even if you remembered that tidbit from ROTS about it being a skill you have to learn, there’s no reason to think she wouldn’t have learned it when she trained with Luke. Nobody thinks of it as "Oh, I'm so proud of Leia! What a big moment for her! She did it! She learned the super secret technique and now she’s in the Cool Kids Club" because it doesn’t click for anybody that there should’ve ever been any doubt that she could.

Fifth; Finally, we get to the end of the movie and JJerrio decided to only feature Luke and Leia as ghosts, reasoning that Ben or Anakin or anyone else's presence would distract from Leia's moment. But as outlined in the previous points, the entire premise behind that never would've worked in the first place. The fanservice was already had just from seeing Leia wielding a lightsaber and being told she had trained with Luke and knew all the badass stuff he knew and therefore was an equal to him because god forbid anyone in SW have value if they don't have a laser sword. Leia appearing as a ghost was something we already expected even before that retcon, ever since we first learned she was Luke's sister.

Her merely appearing as a ghost doesn't get across to anyone that "NOW she's a REAL Jedi and not just a mere Force Sensitive who went through all the Jedi training and learned all the cool tricks but never got her diploma from Jedi school so it didn't count before.”

By contrast, if Luke and Leia were surrounded by other Jedi, that would've made it much clearer that the moment was about how she was a fully initiated member of the Cool Kids Club. But because it's just the two of them, the audience reads it as a family thing that excludes half the family, who were both Jedi anyway, so they should've been there regardless of whether you actually wanted it to be read as a Jedi thing or a family thing.

So in JJerrio's alleged efforts to prevent Anakin and Ben from stealing Leia's thunder, their glaring omission ended up overshadowing everything about her "big moment" when no one was even going to think it was a big deal that she was a ghost in the first place even if they hadn’t fucked up the execution so hard.

Meanwhile, if they HAD included Ben, audiences might've just felt the slightest twinge of comfort and closure seeing that at least he and his mother were reunited in death. And for as nonsensically as it was executed, people at least still understood that Leia’s death was supposed to have saved Ben somehow, so having him there would’ve been a much greater statement about her heroism than simply showing up as a ghost because someone else used your sword. It’s like if you signed up to sponsor a needy child in Africa and instead of putting up pictures of the kid with new clothes and textbooks that your money helped pay for on the fridge, you put up a printout of your bank statement with the line showing your monthly withdrawl circled. Like, it’s not the cost to yourself that makes you a hero, it’s the good your sacrifice accomplished.

But what would've made an actual memorable and satisfying end to both Leia's story and the saga as a whole would've been if she'd done as the conspiracy theorists suggested and held out on exiting the mortal plane in order to transfer her life force to her son. Then she would've done at least one actually heroic thing, instead of something that just made no sense and kinda looked like the opposite of what it was intended to be and then whatever it was supposed to have accomplished was undone an hour later anyway but that's fine because she's gonna get credit for something someone else did because they used something of hers to do it.

[serialreblogger]

You want to talk more about the bigotry in Harry Potter? Go ahead! I've actually heard stuff like that before, but have yet to do much research on it personally and it's been a while since I read it, so I'm interested.

WELL

Before we begin I should start with a disclaimer: this analysis will be dedicated to examining as many bigoted aspects of Harry Potter’s writing as I can think of, so--while I personally am more or less comfortable balancing critical evaluation with enjoyment of a piece, and strongly advocate developing your own abilities to do the same--I know not everyone is comfortable reading/enjoying a story once they realize its flaws, and again, while I think it’s very important to acknowledge the flaws in culturally impactful stories like Harry Potter, I also know for some people the series is really really important for personal reasons and whatnot. 

So! If you’re one of those people, and you have trouble balancing critical engagement with enjoyment, please feel free to skip this analysis (at least for the time being). Self-care is important, and it’s okay to find your own balance between educating yourself and protecting yourself.

On another note, this is gonna be limited strictly to morally squicky things to do with Rowling’s writing and the narrative itself. Bad stuff characters do won’t be talked about unless it’s affirmed by the narrative (held up as morally justified), and plot holes, unrealistic social structures, etc. will not be addressed (it is, after all, a kid’s series, especially in the first few books. Quidditch doesn’t have to make sense). This is strictly about how Rowling’s personal biases and bigotry impacted the story and writing of Harry Potter.

Sketch Thing #1: Quirrell! I don’t see a lot of people talking about Quirrell and racism, but I feel like it’s a definite thing? Quirinus Quirrell is a white man who wears a turban, gifted to him by an “African prince” (what country? where? I couldn’t find a plausible specific when I was researching it for a fic. If there’s a country which has current/recent royalty that might benevolently interact with someone, and also a current/recent culture where turbans of the appropriate style are common, I couldn’t find it). Of course, it wasn’t actually given to him by an African prince in canon, but it’s still an unfortunate explanation.

More importantly, ALL the latent Islamophobia/xenophobia in the significance of the turban. Like, look at it.

“Man wears turban, smells like weird spices, turns out to be concealing an evil second face under the turban” really sounds like something A Bit Not Good, you know? If you wanted to stoke the flames of fear about foreignness, it would be hard to do it better than to tell children about a strange man who’s hiding something horrible underneath a turban.

Also, Quirrell’s stutter being faked to make you think he was trustworthy is a very ableist trope, and an unfortunately common one. “Disability isn’t actually real, just a trick to make you accommodate and trust them” is not a great message, and it’s delivered way too often by mass media. (Check out season 1 of the Flash for another popular example.)

Sketch Thing #2: The goblins. Much more commonly talked about, in my experience, which is good! The more awareness we have about the messages we’re getting from our popular media, the better, in my view. 

For those who haven’t encountered this bit of analysis before: the goblins in Harry Potter reek of antisemitic stereotypes. Large ears, small eyes, crooked noses, green/gray skin, lust for money, control of the banks, and a resentful desire to overthrow the Good British Government? Very reminiscent of wwii propaganda posters, and in general the hateful rhetoric directed towards Jewish people by other European groups from time immemorial. 

I’m also extremely uncomfortable with how goblin culture is handled by Rowling in general. Like, the goblins were a people that were capable of using magic, but prohibited by the British government from owning wands. That was never addressed. They also had a different culture around ownership, which is why Griphook claimed that the sword of Gryffindor belonged rightfully to the goblins--a gift isn’t passed down to descendants upon death, but instead reverts to the maker. This cultural miscommunication is glossed over, despite the fact that it sounds like Griphook’s voicing a very real, legitimate grievance.

To be honest, apart from the antisemitism, the way Goblin culture is treated by the narrative in Harry Potter is very uncomfortably reminiscent to me of how First Nations were treated by English settlers in North America, before the genocide really got started. The Goblins even have a history of “rebellions,” which both raises the question of why another species is ruling them to begin with, and more significantly, is eerily reminiscent of the Red River Rebellion in Canada (which, for the record, wasn’t actually a rebellion--it was Metis people fighting against the Canadian government when it tried to claim the land that legally, rightfully belonged to the Metis. But that’s another story)

In sum: I Don’t Like the implications of how Rowling treats the goblins.

Sketch Thing #3: Muggles. Ok because we’re all “muggles” (presumably) and because I’m white, talking about this might rapidly degenerate into thinly-veiled “reverse racism” discourse, so please y’all correct me if I stray into that kind of colossal stupidity. However, I am not comfortable with the way non-magical humans are treated by Rowling’s narrative.

The whole premise of Harry Potter is that Evil Wizards Want To Hurt The Muggles, right? Except that it’s not. Voldemort’s goal is to subjugate the inferior humans, rule over non-magical people as the rightful overlords, but that’s hardly mentioned by the narrative. Instead, it focuses on the (also egregious and uncomfortably metaphorical) “blood purism” of wizarding culture, and how wizards would be persecuted for their heritage.

But muggles, actual muggles, are arguably the ones who stand to lose the most to Voldemort, and they’re never notified of their danger. We, the muggles reading it, don’t even really register that we’re the collateral damage in this narrative. Because throughout the series, muggles are set up as laughingstocks. Even the kindest, most muggle-friendly wizards are more obsessed with non-magical people as a curiosity than actually able to relate to them as people. 

I dunno, friends, I’m just uncomfortable with the level of dehumanization that’s assigned to non-magical humans. (Like, there’s not even a non-offensive term for them in canon. There’s “muggle,” which is humorously indulgent at best and actively insulting at worst, and there’s “squib,” which is literally the word for a firework that fails to spark.) It’s not like “muggles” are actually a real people group that can be oppressed, and like I said this kind of analysis sounds a bit like the whining of “reverse racism” advocates where the powerful majority complains about being insulted, but... it kind of also reeks of ableism. People that are not able to do a certain cool, useful thing (use magic) are inherently inferior, funny at best and disposable at worst. They suffer and die every day from things that can easily be cured with magic, but magic-users don’t bother to help them, and even when they’re actively attacked the tragedy of hundreds dying is barely mourned by the narrative. 

It gives me bad vibes. I don’t Love It. It sounds uncomfortably like Rowling’s saying “people that are unable to access this common skill are inherently inferior,” and that really does sound like ableism to me. 

Either way, there’s something icky about consigning an entire group of people to the role of “funny clumsy stupid,” regardless of any real-world connections there may or may not be to that people group. Don’t teach children that a single genetic characteristic can impact someone’s personhood, or make them inherently less worthy of being taken seriously. Just, like... don’t do that.

Sketch Thing #4: The house elves. Everyone knows about the house elves, I think. The implications of “they’re slaves but they like it” and the only person who sees it as an issue having her campaign turned into a joke by the narrative (“S.P.E.W.”? Really? It might as well stand for “Stupidly Pleading for Expendable Workers”) are pretty clear.

Sketch Thing #5: Azkaban. Are we gonna talk about how wizarding prison involves literal psychological torture, to the point where prisoners (who are at least sometimes there wrongly, hence the plot of book 3) almost universally go “insane”? This is sort of touched on by the narrative--“dementors are bad and we shouldn’t be using them” was a strongly delivered message, but it was less “because torturing people, even bad people, is not a great policy” and more “because dementors are by their natures monstrous and impossible to fully control.” 

“This humanoid species is monstrous and impossible to control” is, once again, a very concerning message to deliver, and it doesn’t actually address the real issue of “prison torture is bad, actually.” Please, let’s not normalize the idea that prison is inherently horrific. Of course, prison as it exists in North America and Britain is, indeed, inherently horrific and often involves torture (solitary confinement, anyone?), but like--that’s a bad thing, y’all, it’s deeply dysfunctional and fundamentally unjust. Don’t normalize it.

Sketch Thing #6: Werewolves. Because Rowling explicitly stated that lycanthropy in her series is a metaphor for “blood-borne diseases like HIV/AIDS”. The linked article says it better than I could:

Rowling lumps HIV and AIDS in with other blood-borne illnesses, which ignores their uniquely devastating history. And Lupin’s story is by no stretch a thorough or helpful examination of the illness. Nor is its translation as an allegory easily understood, beyond the serious stigma that Rowling mentioned.

That Lupin is a danger to others could not more clearly support an attitude of justifiable fear toward him, one that is an abject disservice to those actually struggling with a disease that does not make them feral with rage.

This definitely ties into homophobia, given how deeply the queer community has been affected by HIV/AIDS. Saying a character with a condition that makes him an active threat to those around him is “a metaphor for AIDS” is deeply, deeply distressing, both for its implications about queer people and their safety for the general population, and for the way it specifically perpetuates the false belief that having HIV/AIDS makes a person dangerous.

Sketch Thing #7: Blood Ties. This isn’t, like, inherently sketch, but (especially for those of us with complicated relationships to our birth families) it can rub a lot of people the wrong way. Rowling talks a big talk about the folly of “blood purism,” but she also upholds the idea that blood and blood relations are magically significant. 

Personally, I’m very uncomfortable with the fact that Harry was left with an abusive family for his entire childhood, and it was justified because they were his “blood relatives.” I’ve had this argument with ultra-conservative family friends who genuinely believe it’s a parent’s right to abuse their child, and while I don’t think that’s what Rowling is saying, I do feel uncomfortable with the degree of importance she places on blood family. I’m uncomfortable with the narrative’s confirmation that it is acceptable (even necessary) to compromise on boundaries and allow the continuation of abuse because “it’s better for a child to be raised by their Real Family” than it is to risk them to the care of an unrelated parent.

Genetic relations aren’t half as important as Rowling tells us. For people with a bad birth family, this can be a damaging message to internalize, so I’ll reiterate: it’s a pretty thought, the love in blood, but it’s ultimately false. The family you build is more real, more powerful and more valid than any family you were assigned to by an accident of genes.

I can think of one or two more things, but they’re all a lot more debatable than what I have here--as it is, you might not agree with everything I’ve said. That’s cool! I’m certainly not trying to start a fight. We all have the right to read and interpret things for ourselves, and to disagree with each other. And again, I’m not trying to ruin Harry Potter. It’s honestly, as a series, not worse in terms of latent bigotry than most other books of its time, and better than many. It’s just more popular, with a much bigger impact and many more people analyzing it. I do think it’s important to critically evaluate the media that shapes one’s culture, and to acknowledge its shortcomings (and the ways it can be genuinely harmful to people, especially when it’s as culturally powerful as Harry Potter). But that doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t enjoy it for what it was meant to be: a fun, creative, engaging story, with amazing characters, complex plots, heroism and inspiration for more than one generation of people. 

Enjoy Harry Potter. It is, in my opinion, a good series, worth reading and re-reading for enjoyment, even for nourishment. It’s also flawed. These things can both be true.

[dansnaturepictures]

16/04/2021-Orange Tip and more at Lakeside and photos at home: Five pictures in this photoset are different to those I tweeted tonight which are the first three, seventh and tenth in this photoset 

I took the first three pictures in this photoset as I went on my last lunch time Lakeside walk before a week’s annual leave next week, replacing what would have been our Pembrokeshire holiday which due to the pandemic we have now postponed until next year and we are hoping to do some special day trips with restrictions eased enough to allow, I am hoping the week can be as good as recent patches of annual leave/bank holidays, my week off in January and the similar week off instead of a postponed Welsh holiday in June last year when everything had unlocked enough to allow some further afield day trips including to surrounding counties. 

I wanted another look at the snake’s-head fritillaries as I may not necessarily come to Lakeside during the week off and may not be walking here until 26th April, so I think these smashing flowers may have ended or thereabouts by that point. So I did this by scouting out groups of them I had not yet seen in my best ever year of them here this year a flower I am loving so much here over the last few years as I walked to the far east of the southern fenced off nature reserve area and walked in a path that takes you right along the fence from the back of trees and along. Here I stumbled across indeed a group I had not seen yet this year, including the one in the fourth picture in this photoset it was beautiful to take lots of them in but this as a single flower stood out most to me I had a lot of great moments taking in single flowers today including daisy and dandelion. The fritillaries are such succulent looking flowers. I then indulged as the sun was in and out a little again but shining very brightly when out in some landscapes using this as a great vantage point across the nature reserve and taking in some beautiful sweeping views from this area I took the fifth picture in this photoset of a fantastic green looking view a big theme of my week. The green continued as I loved seeing some more lichen in this area this year I enjoyed it in the winter especially one day which I took the sixth picture in this photoset of today. I then took the seventh picture in this photoset of one of the group of snake’s-head fritillaries I discovered towards the end of last week. I took this with my big lens, the closeup one before was with my macro. This was not before I tried a shot I wanted to and perhaps rarely for me I suppose had in my head to try out with the snake’s-head fritillaries with my general lens, a landscape shot with the beautiful flowers in the foreground and I sat on the now quite dry floor you know its spring when that happens as this can be one of the wettest parts of the country park in winter with the mud and bog. I was quite pleased with how this came out and I tweeted on Dans_Pictures the photo I took. 

It was another pre-planned photo as I moved on out the gate and towards beach lake, the eighth picture in this photoset. This is because as I said I’m taking part on a Facebook group I’m in, in a themed Facebook challenge this week where each day its a different letter to post photos on the theme of and over the week it spells out April. Having managed to think of an A, P, R and I some more challenging than others I knew L was the easiest letter for me as my day would involve a walk at Lakeside. I went very literal for that and wanted a picture of one of the lakes today, which I have managed at various points all week too, and I got it with this one. This was a beautiful scene and I loved taking in the water birds as I walked through the lake area and over the bridge again, such as Lesser Black-backed Gulls with one of them having a spat with one of the many Black-headed Gulls as things get a bit territorial which is interesting and two of the Great Crested Grebes. As I tweeted a picture of I got very close to a Greylag Goose as I got over the bridge a brilliant photo opportunity. 

I then decided I wanted to go through a hidden little area in the trees where there is a high seat to take me into the woods and along the woodland path as planned for my route today. As the drumming of a Great Spotted Woodpecker which was fantastic to hear at Lakeside again after a couple of weeks ago was enticing me into the woodland, I was wondering whether if I finished work early enough I would do an evening walk tonight. One of my key targets for the last couple of weeks at Lakeside has been an Orange Tip butterfly the all important spring species for me so an evening walk would be one last chance before going on leave to try and see this one of my favourite butterflies here. I hadn’t seen any butterflies today by that point as the sun just started to settle on being out for a long period. I was thrilled to see one I fully expected to in the woods a Speckled Wood fly back into the nice little area with a bench where I had seen my first Comma of the year near on my last patch of annual leave. A nice memory of packed minutes on last Friday’s walk where I saw my first Speckled Woods of the year. As I watched it I was over the moon to see a white butterfly and instantly I knew it was a male Orange Tip and then I saw it fly around a bit battling with the Speckled Wood a little which I always love seeing with butterflies. I made out its ice lolly tip to pure white majority wings and was so happy to see this butterfly. I said when I saw my first of 2018 that they make me feel in love with life and I could hardly contain my excitement for this moment in 2021 which is one of my real favourite moments in any spring seeing my first Orange Tip of the year. This butterfly took my year list to eight competing well with how many I had seen on this date in 2019 and 2020 my top two butterfly year list totals I am pleased with this. I spent a fantastic few minutes enjoying this butterfly and didn’t feel the need to come back tonight as I had achieved my latest wildlife goal on lunch time walks. 

The Orange Tip then landed and closed its wings, and I with my big lens on at this point took a safety shot. But then I was stunned as I managed to get my macro lens on and edge gently closer to it and take a picture with it! An Orange Tip is a butterfly that so rarely stops so any kind of picture of one and at any stage in their year is brilliant. But to get one with my macro where you do have to get quite close to it and it has to stay still for a long time at the start of the season where normally not much lands with temperatures moderate so not as many warm sun basking opportunities so they can be flighty. Obviously it could have been newly emerged which would account for more stillness too which is amazing if so. I felt an interesting rush of adrenaline as I limbered up to the nettle it had settled on and took the picture with my macro which showed how I was so intoxicated by wildlife it really made me stupidly happy as so many moments have this year for wildlife. 

What I hadn’t realised until recording the year tick and checking my past lists is today is ten years to the day since I first ever saw an Orange Tip it was along the River Itchen which felt fantastic. What a way to celebrate this day. On Monday I made a big thing about it being ten years since I saw my first Cuckoo and I had overlooked for years the magnitude of seeing both my first Cuckoo and Orange Tip ever in that short space of time over that glorious Easter holidays when I was still at school where so much else happened for me that fortnight as both became one of my favourite species being added to those lists in the years not so long after. Orange Tip is a butterfly I find so immaculate and so beautiful with the males and their stunning bright colour scheme which gives them the name and the female’s intricate and bold markings. This species sybolises the hope and passion of a blooming spring and they just provide you with a moment of splendour every time you are lucky enough to see one. They are one of nature’s finest works of art and one of Britain’s best species and key riverine species. I took these butterflies to my heart very quickly over the last decade where I have been so lucky to be able to see them so much and it is something I look forward to every year the Orange Tips coming out. I walked along to the monks brook halt steam railway platform entrance and along the northern path which I would take home I spotted a Brimstone flying and also more white butterflies I didn’t get to see what they were but they could have been female Orange Tips along the part of the park I learnt last year that they are here and something that can be seen. This was the first time ever that Lakeside was the place I ticked Orange Tip as we snuck a female in the river Itchen and males and females at Stoke Park Wood before the first Lakeside one on lockdown daily exercise walks last year. Of the eight butterflies I’ve seen this year six have been for the first time at Lakeside now and I am so proud once more of how I have used this wonderful local country park to get my butterfly season really well underway with a variety of species. Lakeside did dominate the location field of my butterfly year list last year with working from home and everything there are some species I tend to see at Lakeside first anyway as I really awoke to the fact of knowing there was so much on my doorstep and I’m glad I’ve done it again so far. 

On the way home I took a third planned picture which I tweeted as I photographed a patch of blossom and greenery just outside the park as it goes towards the bridge to the new development and road which is a nicely shaped bush and I noticed it shine in the dark on my Wednesday evening walk. I remember photographing this one last year too on a lunch time walk and its interesting its flaired up nicely again around this time of year. 

At home this afternoon I took as I tweeted a nice range of landscape and sky out the window and wildlife photos, including Rex the Feral Pigeon we have nicknamed who as well as his partner Violet was around a lot today which was great. I was also transfixed just before sunset by a large group of Starlings on the green out the front among the daisies and dandelions which looked really pretty as I processed my photos from today I just loved watching them. I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of these. I hope you all have a nice weekend. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first of one of my favourite butterflies the Orange Tip this year, one of my favourite birds the Great Crested Grebe, Brimstone, Speckled Wood, Mallard, Moorhen, Greylag Goose, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Black-headed Gull, Magpie, Jackdaw, Starlings with a brilliant view of some with food at times too along the northern path at Lakeside at lunch time too likely the same group as on the green, House Sparrow, Great Tit well at Lakeside in the hidden little bit, Woodpigeon, Collared Dove, Feral Pigeon, Robin and I heard both of the woodpeckers two of my favourite birds the Green and Great Spotted Woodpecker. 

[nofive]

Five’s Powers

Two notes, this will obviously be altered as time goes on and Season 3 hopefully expands on Five’s powers in canon. For now most of this is what is known in canon and my own thoughts and ideas on his powers. Second, this will touch on parts of Five’s powers that he cannot yet access but is able to and will be able to one day.

Five’s powers in their briefest explanations are explained as teleportation, his spatial jumps, and chronokinesis, his time travel powers and what belongs in that basket of time powers.

Before I get into the nitty gritty of Five’s powers, I want to discuss some of the more boring elements of his powers meaning what he must do, the equations, and the effects his powers can and do have on him. Then I will go into the details of each of his main powers.

The Foundations of His Powers

Five’s powers are energy based, and equation influenced. His powers do not require either of these, but both are enormously helpful in the mastery of his powers.

There are multiple forms of teleportation powers that involve both time and space. Five’s have quite a few things involved the most obvious is the mathematical equations. But in addition to this Five also pulls at the threads of space and time to create his portals to go from place to place. The equations are used to help him map where he can land if he cannot see where he is jumping and how far he is jumping. The math lessens the chance that he will end up in a wall.

His powers also require energy. Energy however is not necessary for his powers to work, and his powers can malfunction even if he has energy, see side effects below. His powers require food to be lasting and work longer. He can jump without energy, but it is harder and it knocks him out until he recover. Because of this he has a very high metabolism and often needs copious amounts of food to compensate for it. It is something that I headcanon he shares with Luther who I also headcanon as his twin. I go into more detail about this in my headcanon about Five and food.

His powers also work partially off adrenaline. If he is panicking that is an automatic stop, however if he has truly exerted himself which is a very rare occurrence because of Reginald’s training he can work off pure adrenaline. His first three time jumps in the series from Fall to Summer, to Winter, to that apocalyptic Spring are done on pure adrenaline particular the summer to winter jump, and the winter to spring jump. However he then panics upon his surroundings causing him to be unable to jump.

Side Effects

Side effects of his powers include enhanced vision, but not like x-ray vision or anything of that sort. No Five can see the fabric of time and space and it exists in his peripherals as blue threads. It is what he physically pulls at when he Blinks or jumps. It is one of the main reasons behind his concentrated face when he jumps.

When it comes to medicine, modern medicine does not work on Five. In the sense that pain killers do absolutely nothing for him. His metabolism burns it up before any effect can be had. It does not matter the dose, because when his metabolism can’t work fast enough to correct, his body creates a jump to correct the foreign invader if that makes sense. This is also the reason Five rarely gets sick. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for wounds, and bullet wounds and shrapnel wounds or any type of wound. His body works more on a molecular level, he would have to physically Blink himself away from the object to get it out which when he is injured is far too taxing on him and his body.

Five heals fairly quickly, which is a trait I do headcanon he and Luther to share. However the caveat for Five is that unless his adrenaline is pumping, the wound cannot itself be infected or let to fester. He actually has to help it along. The bullet graze on his arm heals much faster than the shrapnel wound for example.

Five’s powers like Vanya’s powers (at least) are in part affected by his emotions. As stated above, Five does not necessarily need food to help his abilities though it does make him stronger, however his abilities will fail him if he feels any sort of panic. We see this happen throughout the series in the Apocalypse, in Gimbles, at the Consulate party, Running with Diego across the field. Five tends to right it off as he is out of power however with the last instance mentioned he has the power to fight Lila with full range of his power immediately after. It is not necessarily him being out of power, but panic setting in that he must first fully get over to be able to utilize his powers. In the apocalypse besides the equation being a hindrance, he is also panicking, and eventually the lack of energy makes utilizing his powers nearly impossible so he doesn’t until he is ready for that moment which doesn’t come.

Combat Skills

Five’s combat skills while not a power exactly should be talked about. His combat skills are inherently linked with his powers. We know this not just from the leaked pilot script where at a young age we know Five trained to be lethal with weapons with his blinks by Reginald. However we also know this from almost every single fight Five takes part in, most notable of these are his two fights with Lila, as well as the famous Griddy’s fight.

Five’s combat skills though are not reliant on his powers. Five is naturally a swift person, and a nimble person. Being someone who is smaller, and was one of the “weaker” siblings, and “smaller” siblings he uses his size and quickness to his advantage. Five’s quickness, allows him to give the appearance of teleportation on occasion depending on the fight. It does tend to come in handy when he is panicking and cannot access his powers, it allows him to build up adrenaline which allows him to utilize his powers again.

Teleportation - Spatial Jumps aka Blinks etc.

As stated in the foundations part of why Five can do what he can is because of mathematical equations. However, that is only part of it. Another part is the ability to see the fabric of reality more or less. He has to bend it and pull it in order to create the portal to run through. Ben has a similar power with the portal in his stomach. Five can see this portal, which leads to the possible ability to jump between dimensions though this untested, and Five much rather keep it that way as well.

The equations as stated are more of a fail safe to ensure Five wont end up in a wall, and end up where he needs if he cannot see the area. When it comes to open areas Five uses less math and more natural ability to teleport from place to place with precision.

When Five teleports he creates a small vacuum that rapidly cools him and then heats him back up, it happens in a fraction of a second, but it does leave a lasting effect on Five that he hates the cold, and in general is less tolerable of it.

Five can teleport not just himself, but people, himself and people, as well as objects. Five does not have to touch objects to teleport them, as seen in the bank robbery scene where he teleports a gun out of the robber’s hand and replaces it with a stapler. It is again seen when he teleported his tie around the neck of a hired Temps Commission worker during the Griddy’s fight. To transport a person Five must touch them to do so, this is indicated in the Board of Director’s massacre when one of the directors is launched into the ceiling, they were teleported their courtesy of Five. Additionally when transporting himself with a person he has to touch them, this is scene when he transports himself and Diego.

Transporting another person with him utilizes far more energy than just himself, and is not done as easily without math. He can do it on the fly but it will not cause the most desired affects. Additionally, whoever he teleports may feel woozy or dizzy since not only are the not used to the feeling, but it does tear you a part a bit. What this means is yes Five is partially torn apart in creating his portals, but further when he started jumping he was often nauseous and sick to his stomach which lead to the family discovering medicine does not work on him.

Five will eventually be able to teleport people without touching them, in fact the prime time for him to be able to do this is when he is physically thirty as that is when his body is at its prime and is at its strongest. Doing it before then would likely cause him to pass out for a while because Spatial jumping utilizes more energy than time jumping.

The farther away Five jumps the more energy it takes. Theoretically he can jump anywhere but it deals with his energy levels and the math to be able to do stuff. Five is much more successful with short jumps, and consecutive jumps as seen in his combat skills. Where it becomes difficult is how far he is jumping and where the math becomes impossibly difficult. He could jump to another planet or the moon, but he doesn’t have the energy or quite frankly precise enough math to do so. But just because he doesn’t, doesn’t mean he can’t.

I have made it no secret on this blog that Five does not like to be tied up, or restrained. This deals not only with Reginald’s training, but also The Commission. The thing is restraints and doors are not an obstacle for Five. However it was not always like this. Five trained incredibly hard with multiple captive situations of himself to be able to jump away and leave all types of restraints behind. As a kid Five was bad at it, and would often be left in restraints until he could Blink out of them, which lead to days without food or  water among other things.

Chronokinesis - Time Travel etc.

Five’s time travel while utilizing energy is far far more dependent on math and equations. To make actual physical jumps in time Five has to have energy to do so hence why in the apocalypse he cannot just simply make the jump even if he has the equation to do so. This also aids to why he waits even within the commission, not only is he searching for that perfect equation, but he is also trying to build energy and body mass akin to what he had before the Apocalypse.

The math that Five utilizes for time travel is also only a part of it. Like with spatial jumping, time jumping and time travel in general is partially instinct. It is why he can jump in time in the same place ( his consecutive jumps that lead to the apocalypse ), but further jump in time to a completely different place ( the Icarus Theater to Dallas Jump ). However having the math and equations greatly help him with his accuracy, like the jump from Dallas back to 2019 in season 1 ( not to be confused with the first instance of this jump in season 2, and the second jump that happened with the brief case ).

When it comes to running through time, or rewinding time, it is purely instinctual and energy based. If Five does it too much he will collapse. Unlike with his spatial jumps which fail upon panic, the ability to rewind time flourishes in this circumstance and is far easier to do when running off pure adrenaline as it is a way to get away in a way that is far more instinctual for Five, because it deals with him physically running. Five can fast forward time but he has not quite figured out how to do it. Though both fast forwarding time and rewinding time requires him to physically run.

Five’s time travel abilities like his Blinks create portals. Either he is the portal with running through time, or he creates it with his time jumps. His portals are magnetic in nature, and pull things to them like a vortex. Luther is not completely wrong in stating that Five creates a black hole, its just one that also happens to be a temporal anomaly as well.

The portals Five creates are interesting in that depending on the type of portal, and the type of jump he is making he will age down or up depending on when and how is jumping. For an actual portal such as the beginning of season 1 jump, and the end of season 1 jump he has project his consciousness forward. He also must do it for his siblings at the end of season 1, which is why he overshoots their own timeline where they would have been aged down, and ends up in the last place he was which is 1963, and not stuck. I will address him getting stuck in his young body at the end of this headcanon so hang tight. For him the portals are painful as he has to create them and go through them, for his passengers they aren’t, their landings might be, but the actual traversing through the portal is not. And the longer he has them in mind as he is going through the closer in time to him they will be upon landing which is unfortunate, but its alot to think about and even his big brain has limits.

The more practice Five has he will be able to do what the briefcases do. In fact he technically can if in the right frame of mind. Five’s running through time is more precise than it may initially seem and it helps if he has seen all the events that happen. Additionally the three consecutive time jumps in season one, were technically more of Five running through time, rather than jumps. This is because not only was he physically running, but because he did not necessarily change locations as his normal time jumps can do though that is not necessary. There was no portal in these three initial jumps. Five views them as jumps and not runs because he has been conditioned by his father in the way of a jump, rather than a run it is why the advice of “seconds” is so crucial to Five’s first true Time Run.

Five can create temporal loops, though at this point in time they are accidental and he has no control over them. Essentially sending his older self back to 2019 in the second Dallas to 2019 jump, created a temporal loop for that Five and his family.

Five also has the ability to stop time completely very similarly to what the Handler can do, presumably with a watch of hers, or some other Commission device. They could not do this before he became an agent as it is part of his power set, and it is something the found upon their experiments on him. However when Five does it everything will get more of a blue tint akin to his portals and blinks. It feels more natural as the sepia toned freeze feels very artificial. Five does not know how to do this yet, but he will eventually learn, my guess is someone at the Commission tips him off to it, perhaps Dot as a way to make it up to him. 

A very small note: Though likely an editing mistake, the day Five runs away from home he not only freezes time, but he jumps in time when he does a spatial jump from his seat next to Reginald.

Getting Stuck

For Five, getting stuck back in his younger body was inevitable. It would always happen. While it does deal partially with the math, that is not entirely what it is centered on. The key is listening to what Five says upon his return when asked what happened. “In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

Five claims it was just a wrong decimal point, and in a sense he wasn’t wrong. He does tell himself the wrong decimal point, and since he knows that version of himself he’ll believe anything, that decimal point change is what leads to the temporal loop mentioned earlier.

The math mistake that Five makes is much more complicated and mainly deals with a miscalculation of himself at every possible instance of time. This is why he turns back into his smaller self. The closest his self comes to in 2019 when he returns is his thirteen year old body. His consciousness is what he is projecting from himself, not his consciousness and his body. So since a version of himself does not technically exist at the time he goes back to it choose the body closest to that time frame since Five is not considering his current body something he must also project.

Had Five been going back to closer when he left the same result wouldn’t occur because he has already been removed from that portion of the timeline. Its a paradox get over it. As the 10th doctor says its all wibbly wobbly timey wimey. However if Five was going to go back to before he left, he would revert back to his thirteen year old body, and have to deal with a doppleganger UNLESS he did the math correctly and just overwrote the existing Five of that time with himself.

Five was always going to get stuck in his body because a flaw of his is refusing to account for himself in his equations.

The same would not have happened with his siblings because he learned, however the reason we see their younger versions at the end of season one is explained above, and it is they are aging back to when their initial time was and would have overwritten their original forms, or dealt with a second version of their original forms. But Five overshoots the time and so they end up their actual age in 1963 because a version of them does not exist, so it takes their current bodies which were their adult forms.

Five could have brought them back as adults to the time of when he left initially, which was his intended goal for that 2019 to Dallas jump, but that is math that he didn’t quite have a grasp on yet, and still technically doesn’t. As it is what the briefcases use for their ability to transport. It is however something Five is actively working on, for various Ben related reasons. Or at least he was working on it in the back of his mind until the plopped themselves into a different 2019.

That’s all I got for now. I hope this makes a little bit of sense to try and explain Five’s abilities and powers. This always has the possibility to be updated as new comics, and new seasons come out.

[docmary]

Food Insecurity-We may not live by bread alone, but neither do we live without it.

The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough to those who have little.  Franklin D. Roosevelt

It has been my good fortune to have been able to support myself (barely at times) doing the work that I love, being a naturopathic doctor, for most of my adult life. I remember a sign in my tax preparers office that read: “The joys of owning your own business, not unlike the joys of natural childbirth, have been greatly exaggerated.” Or something like that. There are certainly those in my profession that have been financially successful along with the intrinsic rewards of helping people, but I was not one of them.

And then I got cancer. And not dying became my full-time job. On the side I also worked as a home health aide and I made little money but also had little in the way of responsibility. I also relied on programs like Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), also known as food stamps to survive.

I am doing well now. I have relocated from Alaska (my home of 30 years) to Washington state where I grew up, so that I could be closer to family. I was fortunate in that I had family to take me in while I figured out my next moves. Some are not so lucky.

I started volunteering at the Sky Valley Food Bank in my new community as a way to build my social network. I was blessed with the instant camaraderie of many fellow and sister volunteers, and paid staff, who were joined in a single purpose: support the mission of eliminating hunger. Every week we provided food for an average of 261 families, enough for 10 meals per person. This amounts to more than 75,000 pounds of food distributed every month—almost one million pounds per year.

And Then Came COVID-19

According to data from the US Department of Agriculture (USDA), some 13.7 million households (10.5% of all households), experienced food insecurity at some point in 2019. That is 35 million Americans who were either unable to acquire enough food to meet their needs, or uncertain of where their next meal might come from.

In one study that came out in June 2020, researchers asked: “In the last seven days, which of these statements best describes the food eaten in your household?”

 Enough of the food we wanted to eat

 Enough, but not always the kind of food we wanted to eat

 Sometimes not enough to eat

 Often not enough to eat.

According to these researchers, since 2019, food insecurity has doubled overall and tripled in households with children.*

The Ripple Effects of Hunger

Not having access to healthy food has ripple effects of chronic ill health, disability, stress, and worsening poverty. These problems did not start with COVID-19, but the pandemic has made even more glaring the differences in the quality of life between “those who have much [and] those who have little.” This kind of safety net, that supplies sustenance to those in need, makes good economic sense. Adults who have a disability, in particular a disability and are not in the workforce, also experience more than twice the rate of food insecurity as adults who do not have a disability.

At our local food bank, we were unable to have our customers shop in-doors like we had in the past safely. We were shut down but found a way to deliver boxes of food to the porches of 125 families in the area. We also drastically cut down on the number of volunteers that could be in our warehouse per day which translates to fewer people doing more physically demanding work. The good news is that people from the community, from gardeners, to private businesses, to social service organizations, and individuals found ways to help Sky Valley Food Bank carry out the mission.**

School Closures and Vulnerable Students

With schools being shut down, students were no longer able to receive meals at their schools at a reduced price or free as they had in the past. This was not just a local problem, across the country nutrition directors reported that they were serving fewer meals than when school was in session. Last spring, the School Nutrition Association surveyed 2000 districts that reported 80% were serving fewer meals. Of those, the majority said the number of meals had dropped by 50% or more.

Most areas relied on the food pick up model that they usually did in the summer months where families could drop by their local school each day, often between 11-1, and pick up a bag lunch and maybe breakfast. But as parents started returning to work, the pickup model did not always work if parents were not always able to take children to the drop off site at the right time.

In Fulton County Georgia and Tucson Arizona, nutrition programs started packing food including frozen hamburgers and pizza, enough for a week’s worth of meals, and sending them out on school buses to be distributed at bus stops where the lowest income families typically resided.***

Food Deserts

In the best of times getting adequate nutrition is especially challenging for people who live in a “food desert.” The definition of a food desert can change depending on where you live. In urban areas, you need to live more than a mile away from a grocery store. For rural areas, you live more then 10 miles away. According to Feeding America, rural areas make up 63% of counties in the US and 87% of counties with high rates of food insecurity. In 2015, 19 million people lived in a food desert and 2.1 million households both lived in a food desert and lacked access to a vehicle according to the USDA.

The Shifting Model of Getting Food to the Food Insecure

In the summertime at Sky Valley Food Bank, we were able to greet our long-time customers, and many new ones, that were able to shop in our outdoor market. I loved being able to chat with our customers and find out how they were getting along. From my own experience, I can say that accepting help for something as necessary as feeding myself was a blow to my ego. Thank goodness I got over that. Being able to help my fellow and sister humans, regardless of why they were our customers is something I treasure.

Like many school districts around the country, our schools were not able to open in September. We partnered with our public schools to set up food pantries in five of our schools. We also had the return of rainy weather and the outdoor market was not an option. We began having a drive through service where our staff would build boxes of food for distribution in people’s cars. We were now serving 325 families and had special “Holiday” boxes in November and December, along with the usual boxes of meat, dairy, dry goods, canned goods, grains, produce, and food for their four-legged household members. Getting two boxes is better than one box, especially during the holidays.

In December we also had a toy drive that garnered an incredible assortment of toys from community members. It is remarkable how much our community does to provide for people having a tough time—food, toys, money—all gratefully accepted. The parents were able to pick out toys for their kids. 

We are looking forward to having our customers back in our service area to carefully select the foods they want for themselves and their loved ones. We are looking forward to giving them the kind of respectful service we always have and continue to provide. COVID or no COVID.

LONE WOLF

I am a lone wolf.

I have lost my pack.

My sire was the first to go. The alfa.

His job to protect the pack, especially from each other, fell to no one.

I grew up with the bitch who was two years my elder.

Always the more adventurous one. She was gone

Before her pups were fully grown.

And they are lost to me.

 The she-wolf who bore me tried desperately to keep the pack together.

“Come home. Why don’t you move back home?”

She grew old, frail, a little crazy

A kind of crazy that was always there but kept in check by the alpha.

 The older bitch is gone too.

When did the word bitch become derogatory?

I reclaim that title. It suits me.

It suits those of us who live in a world where self sufficiency is prized above all

And sentimentality is a luxury.

 Another sire gone. Was it really eight years ago?

He left to be with Jesus.

I think he’s food for flora and fauna.

Who’s to say?

 My brother looks up from the hard work of dying

All traces of silliness and the infectious laughter that is his calling card are gone

And the world is just a bit more lonely.

 The rest of the pack is dispersed.

Do they prowl in search of the familiar?

Of course they do. (howl)

*IPR.northwester.edu/documents/reports/ipr-rapid-research-reports-pulse-hh-data-10-june-2020.pdf

**Helpful Hint: when  thinking of donating food to the food bank, treat the task of going through your pantry the same way you go through your closet—three piles; keep, donate, throw away. You don’t donate clothes that are ripped or stained. You throw them away. The food bank volunteers spend a lot of time sorting through donations. We cannot serve food that is spoiled or way, way, way past the pull date, or that has been opened. Thanks.

***NPR.org/2020/09/08/908442609/children-are-going-hungry-why-schools-are-struggling-to-feed-students

[talesofpanem]

Tattoo Fixers : Panem

Author: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Rating: T

Summary: Katniss needs someone to fix a bad tattoo.

AN: Deepest, deepest thanks to the amazing @xerxia31 who beta-ed this piece.

Even though I liked the prompt, it took me times to find the idea for this story - until I watched my TV, which prompted an episode of Tattoo Fixers - London. Maybe some of you from the EuroClub know about it ? Anyways, here is my take at this week’s prompt.

Hope you have fun.

_____________

She would be fascinated by the ballet of assistants running around the shop if she wasn’t embarrassed to be sitting there, being prepped by a team of make-up artists and a hairdresser. 

Just looking at the people putting mascara on her eyebrows or trying to tame her hair was a spectacle in itself, with their tattoos poking out from under every bit of clothing, along with piercings or blue hair. 

Katniss felt utterly out of place, waiting for her turn to appear on a television show she didn’t even want to go on. Alas, it was the only free way to fix something she had regretted since she had woken up after a particularly drunken night with her cousin Gale.

It was all Gale’s fault. It had been the day of her father’ funeral, the day after Gale buried his own. After the ceremony, after everyone had gone home, Gale had taken Katniss out. She hadn’t asked, just silently nodded when he had grabbed the keys of his father’s old pickup, heading out to their favorite spot in town, to get drunk.

In the hopes they could forget the void left by their fathers.

They had spent hours in that bar, drinking until they couldn’t drink anymore, until everything faded into blackness. The next morning, however, they’d woken up together in the bed of the pickup truck, each sporting the mother of all hangovers and a lovely souvenir of their evening

Apparently, they had somehow found their way to a tattoo parlor.

Since that night, Gale had sported a wonderful peacock on his biceps, which he still found funny all these  years later.

Katniss wasn’t as lucky. She all but hated the cartoonish, badly drawn bow and arrow on the inside of her forearm. The only good thing about it was its size - tiny, so a wristband could cover it easily. She took to wearing one everyday. Solid. In leather.

Arrow. Her father’s name, had been inked forever on her arm. She would have loved it if she had been able to choose the drawing properly, instead of having been branded with a cupid-ike tattoo design.

Hence her presence on the set of Tattoo Fixers, a reality show where talented tattoo artists helped people cover up their tattoo disasters with gorgeous works of inked art. 

Removing the tattoo was way too expensive for her bank account. But Prim had convinced her to share her story with all the whole country, risking the humiliation of being branded as a drunk crazy woman on cable TV.

Wonderful.

“Katniss? You’re on in five,” a young assistant told her, making the team of preppers buzz around her like there was a breach in a beehive. One man, Flavius she thought his name was, because why not, was complaining about the state of her nails, how chipped they were, how he couldn’t do miracles, how he couldn’t find time to fit in a manicure in the remaining five minutes.

“I’m a botanist. It would be destroyed by tomorrow anyway.” She shrugged the thought away, almost taking pleasure in the disgusted look on his face. Take that, Flavius.

When the assistant came back, all smiles and happy mood, Katniss followed her out of the parlor and onto the street. Just like any other participant, she would have to walk to the shop, entering as if she was a totally random client.

Bull.Shit.

The only random part was which tattoo artist she would choose. At least she would be surprised by their drawings.

This was staged TV, reality-TV. She usually couldn’t stand it. 

She sighed, taking her place ion the street.

“Remember, start walking when the director shouts ‘Action!’” 

Katniss resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

She started walking as casually as possible when she was told to, entering the shop as naturally as she could manage, trying to avoid laughing at the host’s attire of the day. Nobody ever bothered telling Caesar Flickerman that he might be colorblind. Today, he was mixing  a flashy orange shirt with beautiful purple bermuda shorts. No doubt the episode would air in summer.

“Here is our next client!” Caesar sounded a little too enthusiastic at her entrance into the parlor. “What’s your name, darling?” He took her hand, helping her sit on the couch facing the one where the three tattoo artists were sitting.

She took a deep breath before answering, hoping her voice didn’t falter. 

As she explained why she was there, Katniss took a good look at the three people in front of her, mentally thanking Prim for the briefing she’d given Katniss before she left that morning.

There was the woman, Jo, whose body was almost fully covered in tattoos and piercings. Only her face remained pristine, making her red hair stand out. She was sitting next to Finnick, who as the star tattooist of the program was sitting between his two colleagues. Finnick’s body was a work of art. Prim had swooned over it for much too long when she had briefed her sister, showing Katniss pictures of the man who appeared to live his life shirtless. Katniss had then been privy to the numerous tattoos that adorned his back, a chinese setting, dragon included. 

She had seen several shots of him, of his so perfect body that made women of all ages swoon over him. Of course, Katniss was well aware of the dispatch of muscles, the Greek-god physique Finnick had, and fully expecting to be struck with lust as soon as she laid eyes on him in person. Yet nothing happened.

Nothing. At. All.

She was much more intrigued by the third tattooist, sitting next to Finnick. If Jo was a picture of the bad girl, Finnick the perfection, this third person was something else. He screamed “normal”, standing out from the two others, in Katniss’ opinion. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see a single tattoo on him, not even the required tribal band around his biceps.

There was something about his blue eyes, about his messy blond air that made her look at him more than the two others. Something that attracted her.

“This is Peeta, but we call him Peet. He’s the newcomer as Cato decided he needed a year off,” Finnick said and Peeta smiled. “So, how do you want us to cover the tattoo? Any specific request?”

“Well, nothing arrow-esque, or cupid-like. I’d like something that’s more inspired by nature,” she said. She just wanted the stupid bow and arrow to be covered.

Both Finnick and Jo grabbed their sketchbooks and started to draw. But she could feel Peeta’s eyes on her, lingering for a few seconds before he in turn, dived in.

“Well, tell us about you, Kathy?” Caesar said,making idle conversation to allow the tattooists time to finish their drawings.

“It’s Katniss, actually. Nothing thrilling, I’m a botanist and I live with my sister, Primrose.”

“Oh, that’s nice, she’s named for a flower!”

Katniss couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She knew this part would be cut because nobody really cared about the chit chat between a host and someone they would forget as soon as she left the office. 

“Just like I am, it’s kind of a family tradition.”

“And you’re a florist! Isn’t it amazing.”

“I’m a botanist, but not far away.”

She was already over her talk with the host. A talk she was quite sure only lasted a few minutes, still felt like two long days. 

“We’re ready, Kitty Kat. Here’s my drawing.” Jo handed over her sketchbook, on which a beautiful cat was displayed. With red fun, he would have been a striking copy of her sister’s cat, Buttercup, aka the bane of her existence. “You strike me as independent and very focused, hence, the cat.”

“It’s beautiful, Jo, thank you,” Katniss said, as she took in the beautiful shape of the cat’s ear, the detailed eyes. The woman had talent.

“I went for something more… natural,” Finnick said. “ I hope you like it!” He handed her his sketchbook, then leaned back on the couch, taking a sugarcube out of his pocket before popping it in his mouth.

On the page in front of her was a display of gorgeous intertwining orchid flowers.

 “I can do them in different shades, like a watercolor painting, you know?” Finnick added, as Katniss stared in awe.

“It’s lovely, wow, I wasn’t expecting that, Finnick.” Between the two drawings, her choice was made. She wasn’t even sure Peeta would be able to compete.

“She’ll pick mine, guys, I’m ready to bet ten bucks!” Finnick lifted his arms in victory. 

“It doesn’t have to be a big one, right?” Katniss asked, hoping his answer would be a no.

“It can be whatever you desire, sweetheart.” Finnick’s voice was sugary, and his green eyes sparkled as he winked at her.

Which made Katniss roll her eyes.

“Well, Finnick, this one’s immune to your charms.” Peeta’s voice, amused, chimed in. “Katniss, here is my take for your tattoo.”

She put down Finnick’s sketchbook to take Peeta’s. There were no words to describe her feelings when she looked down at the drawing on the paper. She had expected something somewhere between Jo and Finnick’s like an animal in nature, or just a drawing of a beach, absolutely not what she had before her eyes.

Peeta had drawn a wave.

A single, simple wave.

Yet, the closer she looked, the more details she could see. The wave was made entirely of flowers.

Primroses and katniss were braided together with such precision, with such attention, it was mesmerizing.

From two feet away the drawing looked like a wave.

But to her, for the closer her eyes got, it was a flower wall.

She opened her mouth to talk, to express how incredible she found the drawing.

No words came out.

She had to take a deep breath before gathering her thoughts before she was able to talk again.

“This. This is what I want.” 

“Shall we go, then?” Peeta asked, rising from the couch.

She nodded her agreement before following him to the back.

She was glad the cameras didn’t filming the whole process. They were busy filming other segments with other “clients”. 

“What prompted you to draw this? I mean I had no idea that was what I wanted until you showed me…” she asked.

“Your talk with Caesar. You told him you were a botanist, that it was a tradition to have flower names in your family. So I checked what Katniss was. It came up with sagit-something…”

“Sagittaria sagittifolia.,” she said under her breath.

He laughed, as he charged his machine with ink.

“Yes, that. You said you live with your sister, and I remembered you told us you got this awful thing after a funeral so I added one and one… You must have a pretty close relationship with your sister.”

“Yeah, we do …..” She was watching him come closer with his machine. She had a question, though. “How do I know you can tattoo? I mean, you don’t even have any of your own?”

“I do have one tattoo, but it’s hidden. I’m not as extrovert as Finn and Jo.”

“I noticed.. Could I see it ?”

“Well, it would involve you seeing me at least half naked… “

She blushed. “Oh, my, sorry…”

“No need to apologize. I did Finn’s dragon, and can show you pictures of previous works I’ve done,  if you need references …. “

“It’s okay, I trust you.”

He smiled, a gentle, kind, warm smile at her words.

As soon as he started working on her forearm the cameras returned. He explained the steps he was taking, using the shape of the bow for the wave, the body of the arrow to line up the braids of flowers.

“It’s done. You can look.” His voice took her by surprise.  She looked down, finding herself at a loss for words, again.

There was no way she would hide this one under a wristband.

After the mandatory shots for the TV, Peeta was wrapping her arm in cello, when he asked.

“I kinda won twenty bucks earlier, thanks to you. Want to share it with a tea?”

“No,” she answered. As his face fell, she added, “But I’d love a hot chocolate with whipped cream, if you know a place.”

He knew a place.

(Turned out he had a tree of life tattoo along his ribcage. She could spend hours tracing it with her fingers. Or her tongue.)

[arrghigiveup]

Speech made by Singapore’s Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong today to announce the new restrictions for Singapore. We’re finally going under lock down like the rest of the world.

Transcript:

My fellow Singaporeans Good afternoon

I last spoke to you on COVID-19 three weeks ago.

Since then, the number of new cases daily has begun to rise. We used to see fewer than 10 new cases a day. But in the last two weeks, despite our best efforts, we have routinely had more than 50 new cases daily.

Initially, many of the new cases were imported from overseas, mostly returning Singaporeans. Then last week, we began to have more local cases. Furthermore, despite our good contact tracing, for nearly half of these cases, we do not know where or from whom the person caught the virus. This suggests that there are more people out there who are infected, but who have not been identified. And they may be passing the virus unknowingly to others.

In the last few days, we have also discovered several clusters at foreign worker dormitories, and one at a nursing home. These are very worrying, because large numbers of people live together in dormitories and nursing homes. A single case can quickly lead to a large cluster. Furthermore, nursing home patients are mostly old and frail, and very vulnerable to the virus.

As the situation developed over the past weeks, we have tightened our safe-distancing measures progressively. Singaporeans have responded well, calmly and responsibly, and made adjustments in their daily lives. By working together, we have kept the outbreak under control.

But looking at the trend, I am worried that unless we take further steps, things will gradually get worse, or another big cluster may push things over the edge. I discussed this with the Multi-Ministry Task Force (MTF). We have decided that instead of tightening incrementally over the next few weeks, we should make a decisive move now to pre-empt escalating infections. We will therefore impose significantly stricter measures. This is like a circuit breaker. It will help reduce the risk of a big outbreak occurring. And it should also help to gradually bring our numbers down. This in turn will allow us to relax some of the measures. This circuit breaker will apply for one month, in the first instance. The Task Force is holding a Press Conference immediately after I finish speaking to you to explain the details. But let me give you the key points.

Continuation under the cut

First, we will close most workplaces, except for essential services and key economic sectors. Food establishments, markets and supermarkets, clinics, hospitals, utilities, transport and key banking services will remain open. These are essential services. We also should not disrupt economic sectors that are strategic, or form part of a global supply chain. People working in these industries can continue to go to work, with safe-distancing measures in place. But most other work premises must close. If the person can work from home, he should do so — telecommute. But others will not be able to, including foreign workers on construction sites and in shipyards. These workers live in dormitories, and we will make arrangements to look after them. The closure of work places will take effect from next Tuesday. This will ensure that most of our workforce stay at home and limit their physical interaction to as few people as possible.

Second, we will also move to full home-based learning in our schools and Institutes of Higher Learning (IHLs). We started with one day of home-based learning this week. This has gone smoothly, with some teething issues being resolved. The Ministry of Education (MOE) will work with the schools to implement full home-based learning starting next Wednesday. All preschool and student care centres will also be closed, but will provide limited services for children of parents who have to continue working and are unable to make alternative care arrangements.

Third, we will tighten restrictions on movements and gatherings of people. It boils down to three things. First, stay at home, as much as possible. Second, avoid socialising with others beyond your own household. Gatherings should be confined to your household. Avoid visiting even your extended families who are not staying with you, especially if they are elderly or vulnerable. Third, go out only to do essential things. For work, if you are in essential services or key economic sectors. To buy food at markets, or to take out from restaurants and hawker centres. Or to exercise in the neighbourhood park, keeping a safe distance from others. 

The spirit of these measures is to get all of us to minimise physical contact. If we do not go out, if we avoid contact with others, then the virus will not be able to spread. It is as simple as that.I know this is very hard to do. As a practical matter, in places like hawker centres and wet markets, it is difficult to practise safe-distancing, especially on the weekends when it is crowded. It will help if we all adjust our habits. For example, do our marketing on weekdays instead of weekends to avoid the crowd. We will also deploy more Safe-Distancing Ambassadors to encourage people not to crowd together, so please cooperate with them.

Safe-distancing is also hard for a psychological and emotional reason: it goes very much against our human instincts. It is in our nature to want to socialise, to be close to those we are talking to, to take comfort in the warmth and company of friends and family. I fully understand this. But I hope you will also understand why we all have to take social distancing extremely seriously in this period. This is the only effective way to slow the transmission of the virus, so that we gradually bring our numbers down. It is also the best way to keep our families safe, and particularly to protect our seniors from getting ill. So please bear with the painful adjustments that we have to make. Each and every one of us can, and must do our part, to keep everyone in Singapore safe from COVID-19.

Let me now say a few words in Malay and Mandarin.

[repetition of the above in Bahasa Melayu and Mandarin. Full transcript available Here]

I decided to speak to you directly today to explain why we need to make this major move now, but also to reassure you that things will be alright. Essential services will continue running so that all of us can cope in this new situation, as we batten down to fight this virus. We have enough food supplies to last us through this period and beyond. You can still shop at the supermarket or wet market. And you need not rush to stock up for weeks at a time. You can still buy food from your favourite hawker centres or coffee shop, though you will have to take out and eat at home with your own family, rather than hang out and eat outside with your friends.

I know these measures will impact our workers and businesses severely. This is already a very difficult time for them. We will help them come through this. On Monday in Parliament, DPM Heng Swee Keat will announce additional support for households and businesses, over and above what was provided in the two earlier Budgets. We will also legislate to require landlords to pass on property tax rebates fully to their tenants. We will also pass new temporary legislation to let businesses and individuals defer certain contractual obligations for a period, such as paying rent, repaying loans, or completing work.

Besides implementing this circuit breaker, we also are rethinking our advice on face masks.

Up to now, the Government has advised the general public that you only need to wear a mask if you are not feeling well, and this is to protect others from your germs. This was based on scientific advice and guidelines from the World Health Organization (WHO). We also did not have community spread in Singapore then, so it was very unlikely for you to run into anyone with COVID-19 on the street, much less be infected by them. Nevertheless, the Government gave each household four surgical masks, to use in case you got sick, and to give people peace of mind.

Now, the situation is changing. We now think there are some cases out there in the community going undetected, though probably still not that many. We also now have evidence that an infected person can show no symptoms, and yet still pass on the virus to others. This is why the WHO is reviewing the issue of face masks, and so is the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

Therefore, we will no longer discourage people from wearing masks. Wearing a mask may help to protect others, in case you have the virus but do not know it. This is so that you keep your droplets to yourself — when you sneeze or speak or cough. It can also protect yourself a little better, especially if you are elderly, or vulnerable because of pre-existing health conditions.

We still want to conserve surgical masks for the people who really need them – healthcare workers in clinics and hospitals. For everyone else, in a community setting, alternatives like reusable masks will give some added protection. So from this Sunday, the Government will distribute reusable masks to all households. Meanwhile, many community groups have been making and distributing reusable masks for the elderly and vulnerable. I applaud these efforts. They show our community spirit and mutual care.

But remember, mask or no mask, you still need to wash your hands, and keep a safe distance away from other people.

The next few weeks will be pivotal. Even after these stepped-up measures, the number of cases will quite likely still go up in the next few days. They can be cases who have already been infected earlier, except they have not yet shown symptoms, or not yet gone to see their doctor. But if we keep our efforts up, within a few weeks we should be able to bring the numbers under control, bring the numbers down, and get into a more sustainable position.

We will keep on doing our utmost to protect every Singaporean from COVID-19. Many people have been working tirelessly for the past two months  — our nurses and doctors, our contact tracers and healthcare staff. We thank them all for their efforts and sacrifices. Now we are all enlisted to join them on the frontline.  

It will be a long fight. But if any country can see this through, it is Singapore. We have the resources. We have the determination. We are united. By helping one another through this, we will prevail, and emerge stronger.

Thank you.

[getbreastpumpsonline-blog]

How to Get a Free Breast Pump Through Insurance

five simple steps to get your pump via coverage.

Are you a pregnant mother making plans to breastfeed? Or a mother who is already nursing?

Then possibilities are, you need a breast pump.

Even if you don’t plan to work out of doors of the home or use it on a regular foundation, it’s a great concept to have one. Fortunately, nowadays, the good sized majority of women can get one FREE through their insurance provider.

But, earlier than you head out to that retail keep to pick out one up, there are some things you ought to realize to get it properly blanketed. We’re sharing all the deets now!

Do I Really Need a Breast Pump?

If you’re nursing (or planning to), it is smart to have one of the great breast pumps reachable. While pumps are often associated with running mothers who express their milk whilst far from their babies, breast pumps are beneficial for any nursing mom.

The benefits of getting a breast pump encompass:

Building a freezer stash for emergencies. Increasing milk supply. Resolving clogged milk ducts. Being capable of cross on date nights. Emptying your breasts whilst you are engorged however your baby is asleep. Allowing your accomplice to address overnight feeding. Breast Pumps for Free? How Is This Possible? The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (usually known as “Obamacare” or ACA) consists of the provision of breastfeeding aid and equipment to mothers “all through breastfeeding” (1). Obamacare requires not partial, however one hundred percentage coverage coverage of those resources.

So, irrespective of your standard deductions, co-will pay, co-insurance amounts, or different out-of-pocket prices, your coverage agency need to cover the total value of these expenses – for free of charge to you.

Read This Next: https://buybestbreastpump.com/ Pregnant female saving cash in a piggy bank Baby Cost Calculator for 2020 (The Real Cost Of Having A Baby) Are There Any Exceptions or Limitations? Yes. While the widespread majority of medical health insurance plans are problem to this regulation and its mandate to absolutely cover breastfeeding elements and aid, there are a few exceptions.

Take Note

Any medical insurance plan “grandfathered” below the Affordable Care Act is not difficulty to this requirement. Grandfathered plans are any plans created or purchased on or previous to March 23, 2010 (2). Additionally, the law did not specify what constitutes “breastfeeding elements,” so a few may additionally determine to cowl manual pumps even as others will fully cover a double-electric powered pump complete with a cooler and wearing case. Still, others can also most effective cover the condominium of a hospital-grade pump for a pre-determined period.

This method you want to check along with your insurer about the specifics of what they'll cover.

Can’t I Just Buy One?

Unfortunately, the procedure of getting a breast pump included by your insurance complicates your buying process. While you can just purchase a pump and post the receipt to your insurance employer for reimbursement, maximum insurance organizations require you undergo a scientific supply corporation.

However, it receives even extra complicated: Not all medical supply organizations deliver breast pumps.

Take Note

Communicate carefully together with your insurance organisation to learn about their necessities, perceive which medical deliver businesses they're shrunk with, and live inside their buying parameters to take advantage of your possibility for a unfastened breast pump.

What Should I Ask My Insurer?

When you call your insurance, those are the questions you need to ask to get a totally blanketed breast pump:

Does my policy cowl the acquisition of a breast pump for a nursing mother? At what point in my pregnancy can I qualify for this benefit, or do I want to attend till my child is born?

Would I need a prescription from my health practitioner, or is documentation of prior maternity care in my coverage file enough proof of my need? Can I buy a pump from a regular keep and publish the receipt for repayment? If so, in which can I locate the repayment request insurance form and in which do I mail it?

What reduced in size clinical supply companies can offer me with a breast pump? Are there obstacles on what kinds of pumps you cowl – guide vs. Electric powered?

Are there positive brands of pump I can pick out from?

What is the fee trouble – i.E., what is the maximum value you may cover? Do you cowl different associated components – additional milk bottles, flanges, breast milk garage bags, alternative tubing, and so on? Is there some thing else I must recognize approximately nicely buying a breast pump via coverage?

The Best Breast Pump Suppliers

While many scientific supply organizations provide breast pumps, there are four common on line breast pump alternatives. Here is an overview of a number of the features they offer.

Supplier Brands Offered Processing Time Upgrades? 1. Aeroflow Breastpumps eight 2 Days Yes (Paid) 2. Edgepark Medical Supplies eight 7-10 Days Yes (Paid) three. Lucina 8 Unlisted Unlisted 4. Byram Healthcare 6 7-10 Days No Before finalizing an order from any organization, verify with your insurance that they're a shrunk corporation. Most corporations will verify your insurance as part of their method, but it’s in the long run your responsibility to verify your insurance.

You can locate extra in-depth details, together with the brands offered, FAQs and order shape hyperlinks for every of the 4 organizations listed beneath.

1. Aeroflow Breastpumps

Brands Available: Medela, Ameda, Hygeia, Spectra, Motif, Tomy, Nuk, Lansinoh. Process: Fill out the online form, Aeroflow coordinates with your coverage, and then deliver your pump for your door. Length of Time: 2 days to affirm insurance statistics + transport time. Cost: No out-of-pocket prices until you choose to improve from what your insurance approves. Free shipping.

2. Edgepark Medical Supplies

Brands Available: Medela, Spectra, Ameda, Freemie, Nature’s Bond, Tomy, Lansinoh, Hygeia. Process: You fill out the web shape, Edgepark coordinates with your insurance, and then ships your pump. Length of Time: eight-12 days. Cost: No out-of-pocket costs as long as your chosen pump is within limits of coverage tips. Shipping is free, but you could pay to improve in case you’d decide upon 2-day or in a single day transport.

3. Lucina

Brands Available: Brands to be had: Medela, Spectra, Ameda, Freemie, Nature’s Bond, Tomy, Lansinoh, Hygeia. Process: Fill out their online insurance order shape. After that, they contact your coverage and send your breast pump upon approval. Length of Time: The pump could be shipped upon verification with the coverage corporation. If you're pregnant, your pump will deliver 30 days before your due date. Cost: Your pump is unfastened as long as your insurance is confirmed. Shipping prices are not listed.

4. Byram Healthcare

Brands Available: Brands available: Medela, Ameda, Spectra, Freemie, Evenflo, Lansinoh. Process: Fill out the online shape. Upon insurance approval, your breast pump might be shipped. Length of Time: 7-10 commercial enterprise days. Cost: Your breast pump is free upon coverage approval. No option is to be had to improve your pump. Shipping prices are not indexed.

Getting A Free Breast Pump

While most medical supply businesses say they verify your coverage insurance for you when buying a pump, it’s always higher to recognize your blessings so you could make the procedure as clean and painless as viable. Here’s the way to do things nicely.

1. Do Your Pump Research

First, fully research all of the breast pumps available on the market and pick the only that nice fits your lifestyle. Ask breastfeeding friends and circle of relatives for recommendations, or ask your lactation consultant.

2. Call Your Insurance Company

When you call, have your coverage card reachable to give your organization wide variety or member ID so your blessings may be well demonstrated. At the beginning of the communique, ask the customer support representative’s name, and whether they have an ID wide variety.

Write these items down, and take notes at some point of your verbal exchange so you can reference them later when you have any issues.

Three. Ask Lots of Questions

Ask the questions we’ve indexed above, and try to think of any others that can be essential to you or your precise scenario.

4. Ask The Representative For A Store

If you’d prefer to walk right into a scientific supply agency (in place of ordering on-line), now and again it is able to be difficult to find one with breast pumps.

To make sure you know exactly where you can pass (and save your self some legwork), ask the consultant to place you on maintain and call their permitted medical supply corporations to discover one that provides breast pumps.

Five. Order Your Pump

After you've got all of the statistics you want from your coverage company, order your pump. You can either:

Order it online from a medical deliver company. Purchase it from a brick-and-mortar clinical supply shop. Buy it yourself and publish the receipt for reimbursement to your insurance employer.

If the corporation you’re working with doesn’t carry your selected logo, either contact extra clinical supply corporations to see if they bring it, or research the brands to be had through that organization and select a brand new one to suit you.

Some hospitals will order your pump for you after your baby’s start but before you're discharged. You may also want to test with the ability in which you plan to supply to look if this carrier is offered. Headshot of Michelle Roth, BA, IBCLC Editor's Note:

Michelle Roth, BA, IBCLC Do It Right When getting a breast pump through coverage, ensure you’re doing things efficiently to keep away from a bill later.

Most girls who plan to breastfeed benefit from owning a breast pump. From helping raise milk supply to taking into account the occasional date night time, a breast pump affords each sensible and scientific benefits to a brand new mother.

The Affordable Care Act made breast pumps completely blanketed underneath maximum coverage policies, however navigating the complex and difficult international of insurance may be overwhelming. To get a breast pump at no cost through your insurance, it’s important to do matters nicely.

Have you gotten a unfastened insurance blanketed breast pump? How was the technique for you? Let us understand your enjoy in the remarks beneath. Feel free to percentage this with a brand new or expectant mama to assist her get her personal loose breast pump, too!

[mygustavo7]

Fellow South Africans

Let me take the time to apologize for my absence in the last couple of weeks.

The National Lockdown has really weighed heavily on my shoulders and my table has been inundated with requests around doing my bid as an essential worker.

I have first-hand experience of the devastating effects the lockdown has had on businesses and individuals alike. It pains me to see how our already contracting economy is taking hits from all sides.

This amount of bashing reminds me of Mike Tyson’s killer punches in his prime. He was relentless, quick and vile, almost like a rabid animal when he smelled weakness in his opponents. That’s what we stand to become in the absence of good and decisive leadership…Mike Tyson’s opponents…laying on the floor, battered and bruised…KO’d without throwing a single punch.

Hahaha I just wanted to start today’s conversation with what has become synonymous with our president. Let me take the first couple of moments to applaud his efforts. By choosing to lockdown the country before the virus spread to precarious levels, to constantly employing mechanisms to protect and provide for the poor, to assist businesses and by remaining resolute in his stance on some of the issues that arose during this lockdown, I genuinely think he deserves so much credit.

I am truly proud to be led by you Cyril Matamela Ramaphosa. Bathi uCyril uphatha kamnandi…ehh bathi Cyril,Cyril,Cyril.

Hahaha see what I did there.

Now that I have your attention, I would like us to get to the real purpose of today’s Masterclass.

Unpacking the R500bn Stimulus package.

Disclaimer again, this presents my individual opinion and should not in any form or manner be misconstrued as advice nor does it present the opinions of any organization I am associated with.

To the real stuff.

I have long held the view that for our country to cap an increasing Debt/GDP ratio, unemployment rate, budget deficit and a widening gini coefficient, business needs to play huge role.

As forecasted, the Covid19 pandemic has really collapsed our economy and these unprecedented times have tested the core of our sovereignty. So how do we attempt to salvage a broken economy and position it to withstand Mike Tyson’s punches?

The president’s response:

R500bn stimulus package.

The number one question that all economists, analysts, researchers and normal citizens must have asked is WHERE WILL THE MONEY COME FROM MR PRESIDENT?

So the president advised that a huge chunk of it, 27% to be exact will be sourced from the reprioritization of our national budget. Which is fairly reasonable considering how cash strapped we are. Let me bring to your attention that for last couple of years, SARS has been under-collecting on taxes. This has had serious implications on the Fiscus and therefore expenditure, further widening our budget deficit. So essentially, we could not fully incur the whole R500bn.

Capital markets

So the idea that we could potentially pursue some form of instruments to raise the much needed capital was capitulated by the recent credit downgrade by Moodys. Moodys joined Fitch and Standard & Poor in downgrading South Africa’s credit rating to sub investment grade (colloquially known as junk). Furthermore, Moody’s labelled South Africa’s economic outlook as negative which basically prevents any form of a short-term recovery. This essentially means the cost of issuing new bonds to raise the much-needed capital will be higher than the actual capital. Meaning the amount of yields we would have to pay would be substantial than the principal amount raised. In layman terms WE CAN’T ISSUE NEW BONDS.

External Funders.

The president advised that conversations with the DBSA,BRICS BANK,IMF and World Bank have commenced around a relief package. It should be noted that no country decides to approach the likes of IMF and the World Bank if they have other options. These organizations are the lenders of last resort. A lot of it has to do with how they operate. Just a brief example: their lending comes with a form of analysis of a country’s policy framework, governance, economic situation, environmental and natural resource management, poverty and social factors. Therefore, they tend to get a high level understanding of a country and not really the intricacies involved. In our context, where we still have a heightened degree of policy uncertainty, contracting economy, bloated state wage bill, deteriorating SOES and a widening inequality curve…they can easily request that we cut the state wage bill in half, we sell off SOEs and cap social welfare spending in a bid to get financing from them. Now these are decisions that will throw the country into turmoil. COSATU and all trade unions will have a fit that their members are being retrenched, SOEs which have a social mandate to address previous imbalances will further augment them and the poorest of our nation will further be thrown into the dark trenches of poverty. The unending and unenviable consequences will be immense and that is not a price we should pay. Therefore, taking the relief packages offered by these organizations presents a better devil right now because they have relaxed their standards a bit and could offer up to no interest funding during this crisis.

Maybe one day we can have a debate around setting up a Sovereign Wealth Fund. To some of my guys that may not understand this term, it is basically like opening an extra savings account or a money market call account. So, the country will set aside funds, that will be held in a fund, the fund will then make investments on behalf of the South African government. The fund will have a variety of investment instruments however we should be able to liquify them (turn them into cash/withdraw) so we can finance any project we wish to embark on. This helps with reducing reliability on debt to finance things.

And perhaps the most unpopular of my suggestions is approaching pension funds. Pension funds are sitting on large cash reserves. Wouldn’t it be the most patriotic thing for them to do during this pandemic to lend money to the government. I mean the government will pay them back, there is minimal to no credit risk whatsoever. Think about it and perhaps we can engage on it.

I don’t really want to worry about a widening Debt/GDP ratio. I mean Japan has a 200% ratio. The challenge is whether we have the necessary mechanisms in place to ensure that we account for every cent borrowed and how its utilized. We can’t continue to lose money to corruption and malfeasance. That just puts us in a precarious position of need. Hence, we will always borrow. So, its important that during this process every cent is accounted for and is spent on what is meant for.

Comrades must stop stealing money the way they steal food parcels meant for the poor.

*ting ting ting ting ting*

This concludes ROUND 1 of my masterclass.

ROUND 2 will look at what we will be spending on and what we can potentially employ to mitigate certain risks.

Gustavo Signing out.

alutaaaa