#kny

[autisticzenitsu]

"Zenitsu is egocentric and views women as a prize"

...What.

Have you met him??? He isn't egocentric, he has a shattered ego. No one hates him more than he does!

And he doesn't view women as a prize, he's clingy and desperate with girls because he desperately craves love after a lifetime of abandonment, exploitation, and not receiving love.

Being loud =/= egocentric.

When he begged that girl for marriage--which was wrong of him regardless of the reason, and the series doesn't pretend otherwise--he was having a meltdown and genuinely thought he was gonna die on his next mission. There's an entire LN story set pre-canon, and Zenitsu just wishes a girl who turns him down happiness.

"He blames others for his problems"

...The only time he can be considered to do this is early on when he gets mad at Tanjiro for "ruining his proposal". The rest of the time, he does not. It is not a pattern with him, and he's more likely to blame himself because of his extremely low self-esteem.

Zenitsu also listens to the criticism he receives from others--if he blamed others for his problems, he wouldn't do that.

"He reverted back because he got jealous of Sanemi!" Zenitsu's arc was about becoming a brave person, which he does. This is never reverted. Using the scene with Sanemi is also ridiculous because those are his internal thoughts and he isn't doing anything. Jealousy is a normal human emotion.

"Inosuke has no growth"

While I think Inosuke had the weakest arc of the trio, he does grow. He learns to become more considerate of others over the course of the series.

"KNY fails the Hero's Journey--"

Bruh. That's because KNY is NOT a Hero's Journey/Coming Of Age story, it's a traditional good vs evil story that includes character growth. You are trying to criticize it based on a fundamental misunderstanding of the series as a whole, and it's clear you didn't understand the characters, either.

KNY critics are NOT beating "Media illiterate criticism" allegations.

[aphelaeon]

Rhetoric Against the Winter

The cold solstice begets a dying hearth.

It’s not that he dislikes winter.

In fact, it was Tanjirou’s first memory. The rush of cold breeze, the warmth of his mother beside him, and the torches he feels alongside, its a sensation so prepotent, so memorable, he could almost taste the cold on his tongue. But the center stage of his reminisce is the man dancing on ice, surrounded by the ring of torches. His father, an embodiment of grace and strength, dancing as if his bones weren’t stuttering from the cold or bare feet aching from the time that clawed at him to wilt since he was brought into the world. 

A beautiful tradition; he cares more about how his father manages to dance all night long rather than why dancing at all.

His father told him that anything can be done without tiring yourself out. You have to know your body. What should be done and what shouldn’t. The dance is framed in a way of efficient movement, passed across generations after generations while ensuring no changes, additions or eliminations. The strictness wasn’t for decor—It’s by necessity, he was told. Struggling is part of the process, his father said after being told that he’ll soon inherit the responsibility.

Succeeding, is, too.

Winter was also the dusk when he died.

(Winter was also the dusk when everyone died.)

It became a reminder of his emergence as the new head of the family, tasked to shoulder the burden of setting the fire to the hearth. His father said that once the eldest began the tradition, that was their sign of stepping into adulthood. And he was more than ready to shoulder the fire he was left with.

Blood on the snow has often bothered him. When his father took the life of a bear threatening his family’s safety, the carcass falls heavy against the soft ground. Almost immediately, the alighting snow was ready to cover it all, blood and body. He almost couldn’t send it off with a proper prayer with how all his younger mind could think of was how easy the snow buried the blood, as if erasing all notion that death ever happened. The cold challenged his sense of smell too—blanketing his nose, masking the scent of death.

He immortalized that certain scent. The blood on snow. It eased him to know than otherwise.

(And it, too, was his omen to leaving his life behind.)

The sprouts of Taranome signified the start of Spring. It signified that snow no longer covered the ground and the breath of death melts into water that could bring life and nourish all of the living. He welcomes the bitter taste, one he could not appreciate when the winter numbed his tongue, and the company that it brings along—the warmth of the season, the chirp of birds, the start of a new beginning. He preferred spring than winter. Not truly a dislike of winter.

But the scent of blood was an omen Tanjirou hated the most.

[yeurrrrrrrl]

if you have any troubles at the moment just know misturi would be all ears to hear you out and help

[feeble-oooper]

She's sooooo hawt

- shinjuro

[feeble-oooper]

Kuragari is no longer an upper moon boooooooo boooooooo he's too young he's like 45

[feeble-oooper]

Kuragari lore drop coming soon

[intoomanyfandomstolist]

does anybody else have any weird kny ship opinions? like i love the idea of douma just being head over heels in love with shinobu and then shinobu is just trying to kill him every chance she gets so like i ship douma with shinobu but not shinobu with douma if that makes any sense yknow?