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animeyanderelover · 3 months

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Ah yes, there is nothing more beautiful than watching the Crunchyroll Awards when I am in a masochistic mood and still come out crying. I’m not even a seasonal watcher but even I could predict all of the winners when I checked out the nominations. I didn’t vote by the way since I don’t even use Crunchyroll. Since me and my friend already complained about it, I’ll rant a bit too so please take my salt.

I don’t think that Jujutsu Kaisen should have won Anime of the Year for the simple reason that apparently the Shibuya Arc didn’t even count for this nomination since it aired in Autumn. That means that pretty much only the first 5-6 episodes were a contender for this nomination and that isn’t even half of the show. They should have either completely excluded it from the nominations this year and instead nominated it next year or should have put in all of Jujutsu Kaisen. Instead now the season was split in parts and I will bet my liver that the Shibuya Arc will be nominated next year again. 5 episodes of an incomplete season are not better than other nominated Anime like Vinland Saga or Oshi No Ko. I’m not even sure if I would put Demon Slayer as a nomination since I liked this season but it just did not reach for me the same level that previous seasons had reached and I am sure that there were other Anime that were a lot more deserving of a nomination instead of Kny.

Best Continuing Series I already suspected either One Piece or Jujutsu Kaisen to win. I can’t say much about One Piece since I am currently at the Water 7 Arc but I will take it over freaking Jjk with its 5 nominated episodes. Once again I would be hesitant to put Demon Slayer in here since for me best continuing series implies that the newest season is either on the same par or even surpasses the previous season. Demon Slayer did not do this with the Sword Smith Village Arc for me for a couple of reasons. The antagonists felt very shallow and boring, the fights weren’t as good for me and whilst the last episode was quite good, it did not reach for me what the Entertainment District Arc did. Bungo Stray Dogs would have been in my opinion a better nomination than Demon Slayer.

Not surprised with Chainsaw Man winning Best New series but since I haven’t watched any of the shows nominated, I can’t say much about it. Same goes for Best Movie with Suzume as the winner and Best Original Series with Buddy Daddies as the winner.

Is anyone surprised by Demon Slayer winning Best Animation? I’m not and that was the only thing that for me was as good as previous seasons, although I do know the whole argument of them using 3D this season for some of the demons but honestly, that was nowhere near the worst CGI that Anime has given us such as Berserk 2017. I see why people would be upset since other contestants for Best Animation were shows like Mob Psycho 100. With Jujutsu Kaisen as a nominee I am conflicted due to the whole arguments of this season having the worst Animation in comparison to the first season and the movie but the poor Mappa employees were on such a tight schedule and the fact that they still delivered such amazing fight scenes despite the terrible treatment deserves respect. Also, where is Bleach in this nomination?! You cannot tell me that they couldn’t nominate it since Disney owns it considering that there were actually some categories where Bleach was still nominated for some reason!

Best Character Design went to Jujutsu Kaisen… How??? How did school uniforms win against the character designs of Hell’s Paradise, Oshi No Ko and Demon Slayer? Is it just Gojo that carried this category?? Am I the blind one for not loving him as much as other fans do??

Best Direction went to Jujutsu Kaisen.

Best Camera Work went to Jujutsu Kaisen.

Best Art Direction went to Demon Slayer.

Best romance was won by Horimiya: The missing Pieces. I’m not sure if that’s true but isn’t this series basically some sort of flashback where the characters look back on their school time. I’m pretty sure My Happy Marriage, Insomniacs after School or Skip and Loafer can beat what, if my memory is correct, is basically a series that shows all the scenes they couldn’t feature in the first season.

Best Comedy was won by Spy x Family and my friend was quite upset by that since she is a big Bocchi The Rock fan but I haven’t watched any of those shows.

Best Action was won by Jujutsu Kaisen. Considering that only the first arc of the series was nominated, I do not agree with this win. If Shibuya Arc would have also counted, I wouldn’t have complained but as it stands I would have preferred something like One Piece or Bleach to win this award.

Best Fantasy was won by Demon Slayer… Again. Guys, what is this? I love Demon Slayer but you can’t tell me that a show playing in a real historical period of Japan with the only fantasy element being the demons as well as maybe the Breathing Forms is a better fantasy show than Mushoku Tensei or The Ancient Magus’s Bride.

Best Drama was won by Attack on Titan The Final Season Chapter 1. What does that mean? Will the second chapter be nominated again then next year?! Oh, come on. How did an incomplete season win Best Drama against Mister I have no enemies?! Vinland Saga should have won that category.

Best Slice of Life went to Bocchi the Rock and since my friend was happy, I was happy too.

Best Main character was won by Luffy. I guess I can live with that. I’m actually surprised that they didn’t nominate Gojo in here but since the whole award show was basically sucking Jujutsu Kaisen off, I am happy to have a few categories where I am not haunted by Demon Slayer and Jujutsu Kaisen. I am just more biased towards Thorfinn in this category since his character development was amazing. If they really only counted the First Chapter of Attack on Titan in these Awards, I am not sure about putting Eren as a contender in this category since he had barely any screen time.

How are you going to take Jujutsu Kaisen’s Hidden Inventory Arc for the 2024 Crunchyroll Awards and then nominate Gojo as a side character?!?! He was the bloody main character in that arc since it was his past!! And then Gojo also wins this category where he absolutely doesn’t belong!!! The same counts for Suguru!! How can you nominate two guys from Jujutsu Kaisen who were on top of that main characters in this short arc?! Why not nominate someone from another Anime instead?! What about Bungo Stray Dogs?! What about Hell’s Paradise?! What about literally every other Anime that aired this year with an actual side character?! Why did Gojo win?!

I don’t care about the Must Protect At all Costs award going to Anya Forger. It’s just a weird award in my opinion.

Best Anime Song going to Idol from Yoasobi was no surprise and was deserved for the sheer impact it had not only on the Anime community but also the international success it earned.

Best Soundtrack going to Attack on Titan is no surprise. Hiroyuki Sawano, if you worked there again I will accept it.

Best Opening and Ending go to no one’s surprise to Jujutsu Kaisen and at this point I have no energy left anymore to be angry. Congratulations…not.

Best Japanese VA performance goes to Yuichi Nakamura for voicing Gojo Satoru… Why is Eren here again? That dude barely spoke any lines in the first half of the Final Chapters. There are a ton of other Japanese Va’s that not only spoke more than Eren but were also far better. Whilst I am not really suited for picking any since I don’t watch seasonal Anime, I think Uemura Yuuto for his performance as Thorfinn or Miyano Mamoru in his role as Dazai were far more deserving of a spot in here. Yuki Kaji, I really love you but you shouldn’t have been nominated in here for your performance as Eren in here due to the lack of a performance.

#crunchyroll awards #demon slayer #jujutsu kaisen #vinland saga #i call bullshit #angry rant

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slayfics · 9 months

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What music do they listen to?

kny + bnha

A silly thing I was thinking about last night. These are purely my opinions and obviously not canon at all. Just for fun~

Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Muichiro Tokito, Obanai Iguro, and Inosuke Hashibira.

Katsuki Bakugo

Rage Against the Machine

AC/DC (T.N.T on repeat)

Black Sabbath

Eijiro Kirishima

The Strokes

Metronomy

Gorillaz

Hitoshi Shinso

Interpool

Joy Dividion

The Smiths

Muichiro Tokito

Beethoven

Crystal Castles

Pastle Ghost

Any Lo-Fi

Obanai Iguro

Cigarettes After Sex

The Smiths

Beach House

Inosuke Hashibira

Mindless Self Indulgence

FIDLAR

The Clash

My mha OC Kansatoki

TR/ST, Mr. Kitty, and Trevor Something

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mooshsstuff · 8 months

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This is my KNY OC Erfana!

Erfana is the daughter of an Indo-Dutch merchant and a Japanese woman. Her mother told her many fairy tales and myths during her childhood years while her father took her with him on his business trips during her teenage years. As such Erfana developed wanderlust and yearned to see more of the world. Unfortunately when she was a young adult, her father perished at sea. Her older brother, Gensai, was expected to take her father’s place and help her family get back on their feet, but he instead stole their leftover money, eloped with a girl who he had been courting in secret, and sailed out of the country, throwing the family into poverty. Devasted by the loss of her son, her mother refuses to eat no matter how many Erfana prompts her. Erfana even begs her sisters to try talk sense into their mother, but her sisters refuse, saying they belong to their husbands' families and that it's Erfana's responsibility. Erfana tries to be strong but the emotional abuse she gets from her mother only worsens. As salt into the wound, her mother keeps on talking positively about Gensai despite his betrayal, praising him for following his heart and saying he was a good son.Meanwhile Erfana's mother keeps berating Erfana, only seeing the worst in her. Saying she's uncaring, callous, neglectful, etc. in spite of Erfana's many efforts to prove the opposite. Eventually Erfana can't take it anymore. Packing the most essentials, she sneaks away in the middle of the night and moves to the city, hoping to build a better life.Unfortunately luck isn't on Erfana side. When taking the train, she meets Enmu after she managed to wake up from his spell. Since she isn't a slayer he asks her how she managed to do it to which she replies: "Reality has already done what nightmares cannot replicate." Enmu then spares her, not out of kindness but because he sees that as a challenge. He begins haunting her, trying to figure out how to break her mind. Erfana, however, comes to find his nightmares to be... Beautiful. Enthralling. Much to both their surprises.

Working on her! My goodness, she’s gorgeous. I’ll have to fight Enmu for this one, I fear. I screamed when I saw her picture. I was like “AHHHH hey~”

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bootlickerhawks · 2 years

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Twice/Hawks Anon: I too was expecting more from the Red Light District arc of Demon Slayer. Maybe it’s because there’s a distinct power difference between Upper 6 & Upper 3, but I didn’t think Daki/Gyutaro was all that impressive. Yeah, episode 10 blew me away, but Daki’s ability was too similar to the Spider Demon Rui’s.

I actually really liked Daki and Gyutaro, tho I am annoyed with how Daki was constantly undermined after Gyutaro made his appearance.

The rest is under a read-more cuz I went on a bit of a rant ^^' buckle-in cuz I'm gonna be Very Salty

I’ve talked about this with 1 or 2 other bloggers, but I also expected Uzui’s wives to have bigger roles. They barely contributed anything. The anime made Hinatsuru seem even more unhelpful. In the manga, she sneaked the kunai to Tanjiro whereas the anime had Tanjiro run to where she dropped it. I wanted each of the wives to have their own speciality. For example, Suma uses smoke bombs, Hinatsuru wields the Kusarigama, & Makio fights with sai like Elektra. Other people have said this, but couldn’t we have had a female Upper Rank who’s powerful on her own & is the sole holder of her rank? I also wanted to see more of Tengen’s sword forms.

My biggest complaint abt this season are the characters. Aside from Tanjirou (and arguably Zenitsu) all of the characters are one-note. The most egregious offenses being Nezuko and Tengen.

We get hints of depth with Tengen but nothing concrete. We get a couple of scenes where Tengen is shown to be insecure (calling himself talentless and comparing himself to Rengoku) but we never get an answer as to why. We can speculate that it has to do with his dead siblings or his shitty brother, but that's only speculation we don't have much to go on. At least he had a cool fighting style and he was "flashy" (why is he obsessed with flashiness? Initially I thought it was because of his shinobi life-style forcing him to live in the shadows and suppress himself, but nope! Just another question we will never know the answer to 🙃).

And Nezuko... Poor sweet Nezuko... I had high hopes for her but it turns out she's just a plot devise. She has 0 personality and it pains me to say that. There could have been so much interesting conflict and development with her character and we were so close to getting it after she transformed during her fight with Daki but No! Fuck that! Gotta put that muzzle back on! God forbid she have any kind of agency! The way the show, (literally!), infantilizes her is the cherry on top of the cake!

I was looking forward to a character arc between Tanjirou and Nezuko where they struggle with her demonhood. It could have been interesting to see Nezuko struggle to show empathy and compassion to her brother in the wake of Rengoku's death. Or have Nezuko struggle to remember her human life, knowing that she cares abt Tanjirou but not remembering why. Or have Nezuko slowly break free of the brainwashing (the fact that Tanjirou doesn't blink an eye at the fact that his sister got brainwashed in mind-boggling to me).

There are so many paths her character could have taken, especially with the ham-fisted parallels between Daki/Gyutaro and Tanjirou/Nezuko, but no 🙃 she's just there to be a deux ex machina 🙃

I had no idea that Hinatsuru snuck the kunai to Tanjirou in the manga and now I'm even more disappointed :/ Uzui hyped up his wives but in the end they barely accomplished anything and they had bland personalities. (don't get me started on Suma, how tf am i supposed to believe that she used to be a kunoichi?! i could have accepted her behaving that way if it was revealed that she used to have to suppress her emotions or something. but no we get nothing, once again)

Daki's character, despite tying up nicely with her brother's at the end, is such a disappointment. she had such a cool design and was pretty threatening at the start of the arc but by the end she turned into a whiny incompetent muzan simp 🙄

The way the female characters are treated is so disappointing and from what I hear it's not gonna get any better later on :/

I'll still watch future seasons purely because of the great ost and superb animation/fight choreography but i've stopped giving a shit abt the characters, I don't have much hope for the future of this show when it comes to my emotional investment (it doesn't help that i've already been spoiled abt all the major deaths too :/)

#asks #twice/hawks anon #salt #kny salt #<- for blacklist #i had other complaints abt this season like the excessive use of flashbacks and the pacing being dragged out and certain techniques coming-#-out of nowhere DESPITE HAVING A 40 MIN EPISODE DEDICATED TO THE 4 MONTHS OF TRAINING THEY DID #but this post is long enough as it is :))#ufotable has always had a problem when it comes to adaptations #in fate ubw they weren't faithful enough to the source material and got rid of most of the inner monologue which caused a lot of-#-misconceptions abt shirou's character #and i think they were too faithful to kny even though some creative decisions could have helped with the pacing and wonky writing

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helloescapist · 4 months

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I'm so sorry to send another request so soon, especially since my other one hasnt even been answered yet, but I got an idea recently too good to pass up. That doesn't mean you have to do it soon, you can do it whenever you want. But basically, heres the idea:

Headcanons of Gyutaro (KNY) and (Michi) Reader's reincarnations in the modern world still living with congenital syphilis, but this time they become close friends instead of enemies? Like, they still get targeted for their condition, but despite that, support and help each other through the dark times?

Basically a sequel of sorts to Parallell Paths

I love this! I love this! I love this!

Converging Paths | Gyutaro

Word Count: 4284

Setting: modern!Gyutaro x gn!reader (platonic)

Content Warning(s): mentions of psoriasis, child neglect, abuse

Summary: an unlikely meeting between former opponents.

A/N: due to the modern world’s perinatal care, congenital syphilis is not as likely to occur in the majority of first-world countries such as Japan, I’ve opted for a non-specific skin condition as there are a number of conditions that can easily be confused for syphilis (and an attached stigma) to express a more modern experience.

Fresh and earthy, the crips scent that carried the impending summer weather touched upon the breeze that drifted between the slips of sheer curtains. Rolled with each breeze, touched upon citrus, and unnamed flowers, small touches of salt that carried upon the light air. Air that pressed against your skin, the small touch of sweat that threatened its way through your bangs, as the scent of bamboo caught upon your nose. Warmed your breast and dampened the mundane task of paddling the musk from classroom. Stroke the fibers one against another, paused breaths as the fine dust formed clouds upon the drafted classroom air.

The small respite of a breeze that greeted the crept of the windows, pressed between fingers that grasped upon the panes. Locked at the tips, as your classmates greeted the summer day. Small clips of commodity pressed between giggles, squeezed into the idle chatter from behind you as the distinct stifled yawns caught on the edge of another. Your own gaze drifted at the task of hand; nose slightly wrinkled at the press of the coarse material between your fingers. Stale, and uninterested in entertaining the gossip of the remaining assigned cleaning crew. Chatter that spewed latest gossips, delighted in rumors of recent lovers, cooed over split pairings, tossed in flirtatious remarks, and purred wishful encounters. The humdrum of junior high school girls fantasizing of unlikely rendezvous unremarkable amongst the drifting summer day. Routine and mundane expected as the small hushed utters that had fallen as you rolled up your sleeves, subjecting yourself to the task at hand as well as the murmurs that passed between clasped hands.

Though the school year had passed without incident, the consistent shuffling of those assigned club activities, cram schools, and drawn repeated rough drafts had ensured your cleaning companions were rarely repeat classmates and remained subjected to the onslaught of pressed smiles. Murmurs whispered at the catch of the bumps that kissed at your flesh, splattered amongst your skin in abstract formations. Raised edges of blossomed bumps that met the day’s air, less inflamed than the remainder of patches touches of salmon that dipped into shades of China rosed. Agitated hues of carmine red and blistered at the scrape of your school uniform that clasped at your elbows, the scratch of the collar pinned and aching. Dry and irritable abrasions that littered your forearms, the depths of your condition had always surprised your peers despite the notable fall of scars that lined your cheeks, touched beneath your eyes as though the fallen beauty of spring, succumbed petals of winter seared into your skin.

The hush of the girls piercing and low, small, pressed whispers amongst each other. One that expressed concerns, questioned your condition and ability to complete the chore of cleaning the chalkboard and erasers. While the disgust met the other girl’s, clear and reprimanding recoiled her willingness to offer further interactions. Openly berating the kindness of her friend for the harrowing realities such conditions could bear, hissed well intended warnings to her confidant, insisted horrors of shared medical conditions. Bore similarities to the ostracizing of lepers, uneducated disgusted dripped in fears of unfamiliar circumstances.

The small sigh pressed between your lips as your eyes met at the sleeve rolled to your elbow as your worked in discomfort. The tip of her voice tainted with repugnance though you had known all too well that her ire was born of miscomprehension. Drawn in silence, pressed at your lips, whispered the small touch of a bitter smile. All too familiar and understandable. The pressed smiles of customer service employees who did their best to maintain a professional air between close encounters; mothers who hushed manners and disbursed their children’s inquiries. The shock of would-be suitors whose attraction and devotion changed at a moment’s notice. Confusion and ill ease, fears born of contamination, admirers distraught at your growing disfigurement as they mourned your delicate features. The sympathies of the educated, melancholy smiles that shattered with pity. Though you knew all too well your classmate’s concerns and understood all too well that it was born of fear, but the pain that it bore was all too familiar as you allowed soft sigh to release between your lips, your shoulders to relax, as you scrubbed the board.

“Oi, Takahashi, take a look at this,” Morita hummed, fingers pressed against a cloth between the windowpanes, having slid the windows in his duties. Dark eyes drew forward the tilt of his head, beckoning his friend forward.

One of the few reoccurring encounters you had had in the school year, Takahashi nonchalant in his interactions with you lent itself to the bored yawn he tucked not his hand. Disconcert at the tilt of his own head, eyes that found the courtyard. “Hmm?” Mused and jaded as the stale gaze as his brown eyes fluttered out the window. “Geez, you think he’d just ignore them.” The sigh pressed and sympathetic at the toss of his head.

“How can he? They never leave him alone,” Morita sighed, shaking his head.

“Hey, [LN],” Takahashi waved you over, “do you know this guy, you know with—well…” small gesture that wiggled over his own cheeks. Absolutely lacking in any situation awareness despite the dig of Morita’s elbow in his side.

Gestured to the windows, the sigh evident on your breath shaking your head, placed the erasers to the board before allowing your uwabaki to scrap against the flooring. Heavy foot that bore your unwillingness to endure whatever drama the school yard to drudge up for entertainment. Hand against the window seal fingers touched upon the warm glass at the scene before you. Four third years considering the size difference against one second year, the small details of their school motifs, a small indicator of their class year. The older boys standing a bit taller, the jostle of their laughter crude and near unbearable.

Mocking, and antagonizing, taunting that drew inspiration from the lower classman’s physical. Small gestures of drawing attention to the under dog’s facial features. Another upperclassmen, Okada from 3D if you remembered correctly—a real ass slumped over, as if to mock the natural dip of the boy’s shoulders that folded down. The tuck of his head, the small of his chin sharp from what you could tell as it dipped to his collar bone. Bones that met at joints, skin that plunged into the gaps, wary and tired as it endured the weight of its own skeleton. Muscles that strained, rocked from heel to heel, the dip of thin, spindle fingers that caught at his elbows. Tucked into himself, paper-thin eyelashes that attenuated round eyes. Sunken inwards, exhausted, and warn down. Trembled lips that caught on jagged teeth, the junior high boy anxiously surveying the older boys, searching for an escape. The touch of nervous chartreuse eyes that strayed, averted gazes, and jumbled at the clear snip of a voice that wrangled from his bones. A mop of hair that captured a spring bud’s emerging warmth, touched upon a shade only pears could envy. Hs voice graveled, and nervous, the small reveal of anger beginning to furrow. Purce flesh bumped against abrasion. The litter of corrosion, rashes, and bumps that marred his complexion gave way to scars. “Shabana, Class 2C,” Morita sighed sympathetically. The met of his eyebrows as he shook his head, “poor guy really knows how to attract them.”

Shabana’s clumsy steps drawn backwards, shattered at the back of the schooling as your eyes followed the scene through the second-floor window. The snippets of conversation leave little to the imagination—it would appear the second year had made the mistake of growing brave in the past week. The staunched remarks a common form of entertainment for the upperclassmen, was unappreciative of the sudden growth of character of their target, called into action the audacity of the boy daring to retort back to his senpais, now corralled the mid classman as though he were livestock. Flanked from all sides, jeers, and taunts open and available with only onlookers offering sympathetic regards. None daring to impart intervention nor step their foot into the affairs-- Okada was notorious for his fowl temper, a junior high student that stood a near foot taller than everyone else. The rumor mill had circulated him for some time, murmured mentions of gang activity, others depicted that he had been held back (not that you would be surprised, he lacked any form articulation, and his grades were…), and the occasional swore that he was in fact a grown man with a wife and child at home masquerading as a junior high student. Yet, there was a quiver in Shabana’s bones, the nervous ache that met a small snarl, a pup with a little bite left to bear. “Take it back,” he growled, his eyebrows quivering as they met the height of his sunken state. “Take back what you said about Ume, now.”

“Ha,” the grin blossomed across Okada’s features. Met at a crude state, snickered shamelessly. Eyes that met his lackeys with a scoff, “nah, little bastard. Everyone here knows what a slut your little sister is, it’s only a matter of time before she’s screaming my name.”

The crack was shattering. Cracked knuckles, threatened to shatter on contact. The snarl undeniably, suddenly dripped with distain. Tainted in wrath and coiled as a snake that threatened to strike a second blow furrowed at the gnash of his jagged teeth rolled in the sway of his collar bone and uneven at the rock of his bones. “I said. TAKE IT BACK.” Rolled at the sway of interlopers, Okada’s features morphed and surprised. The bruising already beginning to set. The odds of four against one as clear as the track of the window wretched open beneath your hands, and the memories that flooded your senses. Drew you backwards, as though stepped through time, through memories left in another life, your reaction no longer your own, but of a ghost who guided your movements as you slipped out the second floor window.

His head hurt. His head, really hurt. The ache across his cranium came in waves, thundered against the cap of his skull. Slammed as though he had rattled his brain, his teeth shook with each breath as his thin eyelashes batted lazily. His thoughts felt jumped, Gyuutarou struggled to grasp his surroundings. Grappled with his cognition, the faint recollections… a fight? No? Ah wait, there had been something. He had been made, madder than he had been in a long time. The last time he could recall being dragged to the depths of such hatred had been at the hands of one of his mother’s temporary flings, and before that… Who had it been?

The press of memories, small and insignificant in away he could not grasp. The mangle of chartreuse hair, jaundice in appearance. Sickly and deformed, jagged teeth dipped in blood. Revenged as a nightmare amongst the night sky—no, it wasn’t that he could not recall. When he squeezed his eyes, when his conscious threatened to fade to sleep, when his mother had slapped him harder than expected, or the shake of her boyfriend enough to rattle his teeth—there were glimpses. Fleeting. Small recollections of a battle, of morbid curiosities and a misplaced soft smile that met his blade. A tender smile, soft and understanding, far more connected than a stranger passing on the street, but in his entire life, he had never been able to place whose smile it had belong to, and to be greeted with the faint recollection dipped into his groggy state as his yellow-green eyes traced the clouds above, it left a gnawing impression. Ume, that’s right. He had gotten his ass handed to him.

Gyuutarou needed to get up; he knew this. Knew his little sister was likely waiting for him at the school gates, if she had not already gone home to prepare dinner. He could feel the crack of dried blood that met his pursed lips—he needed to wash up. Needed to scrub all evidence of the scuffle from his complexion. It was something, he couldn’t quite put in to words. Displaced understanding, but ah, it may have been the concussion forming at his temple. The touch of the blades of grass beneath his hands, it had always been this way, or at least so he thought. Some small touch of a promise, a soft smile—he didn’t want Ume to see him this way. He wanted to grow, to ensure they left their mother’s dingey apartment. College, Gyuutarou wanted his little sister to go to college. The crushing sigh that slipped between his lips.

“Awake?” your voice resonated in his ears. Soft, curious, but its sudden intrusion left him off center. Nervous. Drew him from his laid-back position. Shocked and furrowed, back arched as an irritated, cautious cat that threatened to yowl. Positioned to his side, unbothered by the pass of day to night. The quiet of the school yard, students slipped home from clubs, bid farewell to friends and retreated to home. The touch of a popsicle between your lips as you peeked at him curiously, “You’ve been out for a few hours.”

Nonchalant and smooth, pressed between the blue popsicle. Comforted against summer, allowing your fingers to rummage across the remainder of the package. Procuring its partner and probing it forward. Offering to share. The littler of your scars at the high of your cheeks, the soft gaze of your eyes as your eyes met their own. Blisters that formed marred the soft roundness of your cheeks. Dainty features that would draw the envy of his mother, and furrow of his sister. Black hair as luminous as spilled ink, and thick eyelashes could make a mockery of any doll. The small press of the popsicle, as he cautiously eyed the offering before allowing you to press the stick between his fingers. His eyes left to wander from the treat, back to you, and back again. Confused? Was it his head? No, no this was weird, odder was the touch of nostalgia. The touch of peace that threatened to dull his senses, whispered comfort and reassurance in a way he could not trace. Nor comprehend. The frayed edges of his nerves slipping from his fingertips oblivious to the way the corner of his mouth caught at the kind offer. Drew forth a shy smile, as his eyes traced the popsicle given by a complete stranger. “It appears not much has changed in 200 years.”

Gyuutarou Shabana could feel his soul quiver. As though a broken piece of himself had been set to a flame, vibrated in a frequency unheard amongst any other as his eyes met your own. Shattered memories. Mashed together, slowly than quickly. Rattled his consciousness, slammed his bones, left his thoughts reeling. As though it were a track that threatened to skip. Small snippets as though a movie tape that had been torn from its hinges. Scenes of blood, of battered bones, shattered ribs, reeked of lavish perfumes, and the soft glow of a smile that met his gaze. Recollections slowly glued back together as the soft glow of your smile upon him once more, just as it had so many years ago.

“But I have to say… Oni-chan, you look beautiful when you smile.”

Modern Day Headcanons | Gyuutarou Shabana

Since reincarnating, Gyuutaro has tried his hardest to turn things around. He has done his best to ensure that Ume is raised properly this time around, but that doesn’t mean that the stars have aligned for him.

Once again, fates have left him in a neglectful mother’s care. One who would opt to entertain her current boyfriend, even if it means abandoning her children to their own devices for weeks on end. The earliest back he can recall being left to fend for Ume and himself was when he was only six years old. Terrified and doing his best to cook packaged ramen on the stove using his step stool. His mother had sold the microwave to chase her addiction.

He caught on early on through his school education, that what a mother was, or what a mother should be was not what he had been given, and though he was little and could not understand the abuses he endured, and often faced at the flare of her temper, or those of her most recent fling, some small part of Gyutaro clung to the faint reminders of a soft smile.

In the hopes that one day, someone might smile for him like those of his memories.

So, he pressed forward.

Gyutaro continued to get rise early every morning even in his first years of elementary to prepare Ume for the day. He would wake up long before his little sister’s alarm went off, crept throughout the small run down apartment for fear of waking his mother, and gather small breakfast items together.

Then, he would wake his sister, brush her hair, do his best to style it in a way she liked he melted with pride when she delights in her hairstyle. Gyutaro helps dress her, and often if she’s too tired from listening to their mother’s arguments with her supposed lovers, he would carry her to the babysitter before taking off for school.

Skipped meals to be able to buy her a birthday cake.

When she entered elementary school, he realized that all of the other children had bentos lovingly packed by their parents. Up until now, he simply skipped lunch to ensure he had money for Ume. So, he set to work doing his best to clumsily peel apples, cook rice, and pack lunch. It- It wasn’t cute at first, and at one point he felt a deep sense of shame before wandering back to the babysitter who had cared for Ume all of those years, a little granny in the neighborhood before asking her to teach him.

He swallowed his little pride.

Ume never cared how messy her lunches were, she would punch any kid in the face who said anything about her brother’s bentos.

His skin condition is miserable, without proper care, Gyuutarou has been left to suffer the symptoms of his condition. He’s often itchy, blistered, and his bones ache, but he has never allowed Ume to catch him feeling this way.

His mother never prioritized taking care of him, and so, Gyuutarou simply did his best with the basic hygiene knowledge he acquired through television cartoon shows, and remedies offered by the school nurse. At night when Ume is already in bed, he will slip out frozen cooked rice to place on his recent flare ups for just a moment of peace.

As you can imagine, even in the modern era, Gyuutarou has not lived an easy life, but he clings to the small snippets of a memory, one in which a stranger smiles at him, and another person sought better for their sister. He tells himself he can do it too.

He’s clinging.

As a child, Gyuutarou is… well, he’s what you would expect as a child of abuse and impoverish areas. He’s quite, withdrawn from his peers. Any opportunity to connect to others is nearly snubbed out, and as his flareups began to occur with no medical care, his isolation hit a peak. He grew accustomed to his classmates either pretending he didn’t exist, or prayed they would forget him.

Frequently a victim of bullying.

Did his best to hide his face when he would pick Ume up from school, worried he would embarrass her.

A really, really sweet kid who just wanted attention. Clung to the first teacher who gave him attention. Regularly continues to greet them, even after he has long since left their class.

Really, he tends to cling to anyone who showed him any attention, or kindness in his youth. Routinely greets Ume’s old babysitter, has really just adopted her as his old grandma.

Let’s be honest, no matter how good of a friend you are, Ume and Gyuutarou have hit a delinquent era in their later junior high to early high school years. I wouldn’t say they are as dark as their pat life in the Meiji Era (I mean, they’re not eating anyone).

It’s- It’s to be expected.

For Ume, you can expect a lot of behaviors to dance into her prior life as an oiran.

However, for Gyuutarou, there will be moments where he slips into his old self. No so much out of pride, but rather as a protective layer. The easiest way to cope with rejection, is more often than not to reject those around you.

So, he does.

He becomes louder, noticeably bristled when people stare.

Fowl language, is known for casually using obscene language. Tattoos, piercing, finding comfort in the alternative aesthetic. Let’s be honest—the prep look will not work out for him. There is also the issue of his own skin conditions, the starch often used for the fine lined clothes are more likely to irritate him. Where as the vintage clothes have a tendency to have the “worn out” affect, softer material, and tension pulled from them.

They just don’t irritate his skin as much as the more mainstream clothing.

Actually, I would believe Gyuutarou has an anxiety disorder of some sort causing him to pick at his blemishes, further irritating his rash.

Scratch that, Gyutaro in the modern world very well could have Sensory Processing Disorder. Sensitivity to the noise and blusting around him, agitated by the noise and lights, distaste of perfumes, or sticky textures. Being TOUCHED. Wearing shoes! I can see it I can see it, but this could also be a manifestation of abuse. Must be investigated.

Gyuutarou takes a lot of your advice seriously. If you are the more rational type, he at times may use you as a sort of guide—a conscious to consider if this is the best course of action. The truth is that he has no real guardian in his life, and without a proper guidance, he’s worried that he will (again) ruin Ume’s life, and because of this, he takes any of your counsel into great consideration.

However, this is not always the case.

There are times, where his anger gets the best of him, where his circumstances, his upbringing in this life and the last overwhelm him, threaten to drown him indesolation. He becomes biting, lashing out to those around him, even his little sister. Desperate to flee, eager to seclude himself. To turn away from the outside world, from school, from his sister, from his duties, and even you, his best friend.

Depression is a common issue for Gyuutarou, and one that he will grapple with admitting to. It’s not that he’s embarrassed per say, but—who would really care how he feels? Struggles with self-worth for obvious reasons.

I headcanon that the reader from parallel paths was reunited with their mother in the modern world, born to her in a healthy condition, one in which she does not have to bid you farewell. Fiercely protective of you--- fretting if you are remembering to take your medicine, your ointment for your skin condition. Ready to beat anyone who dares say anything about your blemishes.

She’s beautiful, as lovely as the oiran of the past, but there’s an unspoken beauty. A softness, warmth in her regards. Life that was not there, she has fully adapted to the modern expectatiosn of a house wife—in fact, finds a joy in having the opportunity to actually RAISE you. An overly doting mother.

Happily welcomes Gyuutaro and Ume’s drop ins when they visit, without so much a comment to their odd state of dress, or the new jewelry addition to Ume’s tongue. Rather, her first response is to look Gyutarou over, touch his cheek, and inquire if they’ve had dinner yet. Of course they haven’t. Always happy to welcome them to the dinner table.

Frets when they insist on leaving—shamelessly pulling out reserved frozen cooked rice, curry, snacks, whatever she can think of. Has taken to having a few snacks on hand for when they pop in.

The obvious pout when Gyutaro and Ume do not spend the night--- she knows that more often than not their mother is not consistent with paying the water bills. Worries about their wellbeing, and frequently slips ointment into Gyutaro’s backpack when no one is looking. Accepts the boy does not want his sister to know, but also understands your own condition enough to know. He. Is. Miserable.

As friends, Gyutarou needs someone who can feel at peace with the world. That can remind him of the simple beauties in every day. The sunrise, and the sunset. The welcome of spring, and cherry blossoms. The touch of snow upon your finger tips, or the tip of your tongue. The small smile upon witnessing the arrival of butterflies, or the crunch of leaves beneath your feet.

He’s stressed, and far too captivated by adult responsibilities, that having a friend who reminds him that—well, he’s still a child is essential. Even more is having someone to listen to him. To notice him.

To smile at him.

#🍡tsuyospeaks #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #gyutaro x reader #kny modern au #parallel paths

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