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spidybaby · 5 months ago

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Dull shine part 2 pleeeeease 😫❤️ ur srsly talented!!!

Dull Shine | Part Two

Summary: An advice and looking into the mirror makes Kylian understand why you left.

Warnings: cursing, depression topic, money issues.

A/N: It's meeee hiiii, I'm the problem it's ME. Sorry about taking so much time, I was solving some personal things, and now I'm freeeee 😫✨️ love you all so much ❤️

Also, heads-up, this is short because I think it's all it needs, not a full part two, more like a compliment that seals the deal 😀❤️

Part one

One day left.

That's what Kylian told himself when he woke up.

One day left for you to come back.

He can't deny that he wasn't the most excited person in the room the next day at practice. Everybody noticed, it was like everybody knew what happened that night.

But not at Luis Enrique's home. At his own, when he told you to move on from the problem he created.

When he ignored you, back turned to you. When you needed him the most. Every time he thinks about it, his heart sinks. It's a weight he's not able to lift.

His mother was the first to notice your absence. He walked into his home with something for you and you weren't there.

The first excuse. "She's working late."

Then it was Ethan. He called you to go to the movies and have a fun night. Wanting to see you after being busy with the team.

The second excuse. "She's sick, have a cold."

They both believed his words. Thinking you were being taken care of by him. But when the excuses kept coming. It wasn't normal anymore.

"Just be honest, we are your family." Fayza says. Sitting next to him. "Tell us what happened."

He sighs, ready to finally disclose his feelings. "She left a week and a half ago." He confess. Hands covering his face. "We had a fight, I said some things just days before, and she wasn't at the right mental place to deal with everything."

They didn't understood. How?

"What do you mean she left?" Ethan asks, standing up from his seat. "She left just like that? You let her leave just like that?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Kylian fights back. "She had her things packed, her ticket purchased and I thought that was the best thing. Don't you think this hurts me?"

"I can't believe you, Kylian. You lie to us, instead of admit that you fucked up. You lie straight to our faces."

"I was hurt, Y/n left, I was scared of facing that."

Fayza is silent, processing the information while her sons yell at each other.

"Enough, Ethan, sit down." She orders. "Kylian, you two broke up?"

He shakes his head no. "She just needed time. We were just not working together in understanding each others probl-"

"More like you weren't." Ethan interrupts. "Because all I hear is me, me, me. But you don't really think that same thinking got you where you are?"

He didn't fight back.

He knows his little brother is right.

"When will she be back?" His mother asks, worried expression.

"In a few days."

And those few days turned into just a few hours.

To be honest with himself, he was stressed. You were going to be back in Paris, but we're you going to be back with him?

Will the break become a breakup?

He was overthinking. That was not good.

Hakimi felt bad. He knew you better. When he heard what Kylian told him about you leaving, about Pamela belittling you, he checked his cameras.

The good thing about having money is that you can afford a very good quality security system. He heard how Pamela attacked you first. You then answered back, but you weren't going to let yourself get insulted.

He apologized to you over text. Asking you to forgive him and tell you how much guilt he feels about this whole situation.

When you read the texts, you felt weird. It wasn't his fault, or even Pamela's.

Everything was a mix of frustration, sadness and low self-respect you had for yourself.

You defend yourself from Pamela, but who was going to defend you from yourself?

You were the one belittling yourself.

Were you enough? You are.

But were you feeling enough? No.

Were you happy with Kylian?

And that question burned your mind for days.

You loved Kylian, he was your rock and you were his rock. You passed some critical times, but nothing like this.

Because he was there for you when you needed him the most, he was there when you lost someone, he was there when you felt homesick, he was there at you happiest.

But you didn't allow him to he at your lowest.

You notice how he was going out more, but he always asked you to come with him. Begged you to leave the house and accompany him.

You notice how he never heard you talk. But you barely even made conversation. You let him speak. When it was your turn, you only said, "I had a good day."

He had to fulfill the quietness with words.

Your mother asked you to think about therapy. Maybe there was something you needed that she or anyone couldn't understand. Something only you could.

And you did. You went to therapy while you were there. Every two days.

It was just the beginning, but it helped you understand that you had more than just a relationship problem. In fact, the relationship problem came from this.

Being blue is normal. We all feel like that.

But when you don't treat it, it can be rough. And you were doing that now, understanding that you needed help. Help that a trip home won't give you. Help that a fight with your friends new girlfriend won't give you.

But help that your lover can give you. He can be the hand to hold during this.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes, I know now what I need to do." You say, hugging your friend.

You felt nervous about coming back.

Would he be okay with that?

Did he realize he didn't need you anymore?

If only you knew how anxious he is at Paris. Watching the time every five minutes to see if your arrival time is coming closer.

He prepared your favorite meal. Got your favorite dessert, your favorite drink and even prepare everything for a bubble bath.

He needed you to know how much he appreciates you, how important you are for him.

You were nervous too, your leg bouncing and bitting your nails. You brought him a gift from your home. Something he asked you a long time ago, and you never got due to not being able to travel back home.

You asked for an Uber. Not wanting his chauffeur to pick you or him to get out in the coldness of Paris.

The whole drive was painful. You were overthinking.

Both of you were.

"Would she be back to stay?"

"Is this going to end?"

"What if he doesn't want me back?"

"What if this is the end?"

"Madame, we are here." The Uber called your attention once your things were next to you on the street.

"Merci beaucoup." You say, paying him and telling him that you will take it from here.

You open the gate with your control. The sound of it interrupting the calm of the evening.

When he heard the sound, his heart stopped for a second. He was about to throw up from nerves.

The giggle of the keys makes him stop, he feels like throwing up. He took a sip of water before looking at himself on his phone camera, checking if he looked presentable.

The smell of food hits you as soon as you walk inside. Leaving your suitcase by the stairs and slowly walking inside trying to find him.

His back welcomes you, he's focused on his phone to notice you walking into the kitchen. The table was ready, your favorite food ready to be served.

"Kyks?"

He turns quickly, smiling at you with soft eyes. He walks with open arms to you. You lock your arms behind his back, feeling his kisses on your face.

"Mon amour." He kiss your forehead. "How was your flight? Did you even sleep? Are you hungry? I made your favorite meal and I was waiting f-"

You interrupted him by kissing his lips, and all the worries from both of you are out the door. You know he's not mad, and he knows you still love him.

"It was good. Thank you for updating my seat." You answer his questions. "I did sleep, almost all the flight, and I'm very hungry. Thank you for cooking. I can't wait to try it."

He kiss you on the lips, smiling into the kiss. His safe space is back with him. There is nothing better right now.

He pulls you to the chairs, serving you the food and drink. You can tell he was happy. He looked fresh.

You eat in silence. The peace of it is different than before. There was no more weird silence that a video or keyboard sound filled.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this."

He nods, waiting for the right time to talk about all the things that need to be talked about. He lays his head on your shoulder. Kissing your neck.

You feel the same. You want to jump and talk about everything to end the topic and move on. But that was not the way.

However, procrastinating the conversation wasn't the way either. "Let's talk. The faster, the better." You smile.

"Impatient much?" He jokes. Standing up and taking the plates to the sink. "Let's go to the living room?"

You nod, standing up and grabbing his hand, directing him to the big fluffy couch you both love.

"I want to start." He says as soon as his body falls into the cushion.

"Okay, lovie." You smile.

He thinks for a second, how can he ask what he needs to ask? He knows that no matter what, it will hit.

"Why weren't you honest about you having money issues?"

Your expression didn't change. You knew he knew. Celine asked you to pick your check a few days after you asked her you were taking a few days off to rest your mind.

You asked Kylian to pick it up, and Celine gave him a piece of her mind. She felt bad about doing it and called you a few hours later.

She told him that he was an asshole if he couldn't even tell that you were having issues not only with your peace of mind but with how much you worked and felt bad about never been able to match the lifestyle he was.

"I don't have money issues, Ky." You say, low but enough for him to hear. "What I had was the concept that I needed to have a certain amount of money to be enough for you. Leading to me working extra and feeling less than everybody who was around and could give themselves the benefit of spending what I earned in a nightclub."

He nods, understanding. "You know that I'm not like that, right?"

"I do. You always supported me in any way you could. And I'm grateful for you. I just felt so out of place." You sigh. "And every girl who got close to your friends always asked me about your ex, how she was this way and this way. I felt like competing."

He can feel his heart sinks. He never wanted you to compare yourself to the girls he dated. There was a reason why he was done with those relationships.

"You are so smart." He says, hand caressing your cheek. "You have no idea how much I ever wanted to end with someone like you. Not only beautiful but a very strong woman who doesn't need other peoples opinions and who can shine on her own."

You can feel your eyes watering. You never thought that his words were something you needed, but you did.

"My ex-girlfriends are just that. Exes. You are my present and my future." He kiss your cheek. "And I want you to know that no amount of money or any girl who I ever got anything with is going to take the place you have in my heart. You are the one."

Your lips found his, you can't think of any future plans or anything that didn't include him. You know he was your one, and knowing you are his one is heartwarming.

"I'm sorry, I know I was acting like a bitch. I think I felt way too comfortable, and I was so wrong for not noticing that you weren't you. I promise I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Thank you for that." You smile. "I'm sorry too, I was overwhelmed with all the thoughts in my mind. I think I let the worst of it hit me and never paint mind to it."

"It's okay." He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it. "You have me, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

The warmth in your heart is hard to describe. You are sure he will be with you no matter what. The same way you were for him when he needed you.

You hug him, falling into his embrace. His hands caressing your body while he left sweet words in your ear.

"We are going to be okay because we have each other." He kiss your lips and your head. "Tu m’as et je t’ai. Je t’aime, tu es mon monde." He humms.

#football #football fanfic #football angst #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian x reader #kylian angst #kylian mbappe x reader #football fluff #kylian fluff #football x you

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gor3sigil · 19 days ago

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Oh my GOD do I need to get something off my chest.

Let's talk about "name your price" events held by some "leftist" spaces a bit, that are NOT "name your price". Because this happened to me 3 times already this month while going to these events, to have organizers be really pushy that I make donation even when I couldn't do so and told them clearly.

So, I go from time to time at events held by local queer organizations to get out of my house. Being poor, you know it, is extremely isolating because you can't afford social events. And I've been feeling really lonely and depressed lately so I tried, 3 times this month, to attend queer events that were "name your price", with the understanding that you COULD attend these events even if you didn't pay anything (I even messaged the organisers first to be sure that I could come without donating). Everytime I tried to bring something to eat and/or drink to not come to these events empty handed and brought along some friends (who donated). So I wasn't "leeching" or anything.

And 3 times, I always got at least one of the organizers pushing me to donate because "even one € euro helps :) we're not FORCING you but you know, these events cost money and it'd be great to give back to the community :) but no pressure if you can't you if you find a coin in your pocket haha jk but yeah :)" and the last one took the fucking cake.

The dude, a so called super leftist anarchist, every time we took a break from watching the queer short films, came to me cracking a joke about how it'd be great if I donated in a very "commercial" way of joking without totally joking.

I snapped at some point and told him more harshly that I had brought food and drink, that it was all I could afford to do and it was supposed to be OKAY. And that one € for me meant a kilo of pasta that feeds me and my partner for 2 days. And he tried to imply that the orga wouldn't be able to hold events like this if everyone comes like I do.

It was a FUCKING SHORT FILMS SCREENING.

I left the event so upset because I just wanted to have a good time and meet people and get out of my flat where money issues is the ONLY SHIT I THINK ABOUT. And I wish it was a one time thing but it happens so regularly I don't even want to attend these events anymore.

If your organization can't afford to hold events you have 2 options:

You can make price ranges for people, so people who have more money can donate more, and those who can't pay a little fee.

You fucking don't hold events.

You don't make your event a "name your price" event, do all your com about the fact that EVERYONE can come even if they just bring snacks or drinks, to harass these people during all the event until they give you the scraps they have because you guilt tripped them. That's just bullshit.

And coming from people that gloat that they're proud leftists/anarchists/communists or whatever the fuck, bitch, shut your crap up PLEASE you have the same method as a marketing professionnal.

I'm so fucking upset. Guess I'll just stay home then.

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agentrouka-blog · 7 months ago

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Hi ! Sorry for bothering you with HOTD discourse AGAIN ,but I really wanna know your thoughts on Alicent and her kids relationship.

Have a good day/night !

Within the show, the energy I get from their relationship is less mother-child and more eldest daughter raising her younger siblings because no one else will do it.

We watch a child still mourning the loss of her own mother, still just toying with the role of the Maiden that society affords highborn girls (a figure of romance and chivalry, afforded admiration and glamor), and we watch her already struggling with a sense of doom and dread regarding their society and her powerlessness in it, expressed through her hands.

Then we see these fragile identities entirely taken away without a choice. She doesn't get to be a girl anymore, she doesn't get to explore the illusion of agency as a desired maiden wooed by handsome knights. She is suddenly transplanted into the role of a physical body that must endure its own violation for the purposes of others. Her children are things produced and birthed and cared for in a state of dissociation. And there are no rewards in it, no trade-off in power or status to replace the small safety she had before. She is profoundly lonely, no one takes her seriously. The father who should have protected her sacrificed her for his political goals, the one friend she thought she could relate to has coldly abandoned her. Her husband is her constant violator whom she must appease. There is no maternal mentor around her at all. She's deeply traumatized and depressed and trapped. She keeps trying to return herself to that previous state of self, if only through recreating her friendship with Rhaenrya. How is this child supposed to find the emotional resources to bond with the children she had no choice in birthing?

Then Rhaenyra's betrayal robs her of even any illusion of support from that end and her father's departure removes his remnants of protection, company and control. It's an implosion, and we see her make the choice to find a new self. The green dress moment.

So somewhere in the off-screen period following, she also takes control - as far as she can - of her relationship with her children. She - their traumatized teenaged biological mother - chooses to be their protector because there is no adult around who will do it. And it is hard. There is no ease in it. The one child she could have a blueprint for (Helaena) is neurodivergent and speaks an entirely different emotional language. The boys struggle with patriarchy from the male perspective, she finds it difficult to access and regulate that sphere. But she tries. She really tries to find ways to relate to them and to apply her own values, her own identity. This is where we see her true self. Through trying she comes to truly love them. But she can't just compensate for everything wrong. She can't compensate for Viserys's neglect, she can't compensate for the years it took her to form an adult identity, she can't compensate for the toxicity of their society and she can't compensate for the danger they all live in. There are rifts of disconnect and pain and miscommunication. She is their mother but she is a mother with visible flaws and limitations who cannot protect them as she tries and they know it. It removes her from a pedestal of serenity and calm authority that this Identity(tm) is supposed to have. So there is more loneliness in it, more failure, a lot of frustration and struggle. But it's open struggle and it is genuine care and I find it deeply compelling. I find it more honest and genuine than any other parent-child relationship in the show.

#alicent hightower #hotd

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 1 month ago

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An Unwavering Light - Chapter 4

Rating: T/Teen for violence (specifically for descriptions of injuries) and mature themes, including ones about trauma and depression.

Setting: begins before the confrontation with Aizen and co. in Fake Karakura Town arc, and goes from there to the Thousand Year Blood War arc. This chapter takes place during the events of the manga from chapters 392-422

Music to listen to: nothing anymore by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Light's Theme by Yoshihisa Hirano and Hideki Taniuchi (YT), Nothing Can be Explained Instrumental by Shiro Sagisu (YT), and Ambered by Bluetile Lounge (YT | Spotify).

Fic synopsis: During the confrontation against Aizen, the unthinkable happens. For Hitsugaya, a vow is broken, and for Hinamori, her future is unknown. With everything in shambles, how can they piece their lives back together? Or their bond?

Chapter synopsis: Hinamori is taken to Twelfth Division to begin her physical recovery. Hitsugaya undergoes Hojiku-Zai and reflects on his regenerated limbs.

AN: Yes that's right! You're not just getting one chapter this time, but two! We have more angst but also some brotp goodness!

I'll say upfront, for anyone worried about there being body horror in this chapter (if you remember what Hojiku-Zai is like, then you know what I mean) rest assured there isn't any here as I don't like writing that sort of thing.

This chapter was intense to write, and I know the next one will be too. It also occurs to me I am posting this on Rangiku's birthday...yay for timing!

Disclaimer: BLEACH and it’s characters belong to Tite Kubo.

<< Prev chapter || Chapter Index || Next chapter >> coming soon

______________________________

When Hitsugaya comes to, the first thing he sees is the sky, and in lower part of his periphery, the towering silhouette of Soukyoku Hill. His mind is hazy for only a few seconds before snapping back to reality.

On either side of him are Fourth Division members, who carry him on a stretcher and don’t notice he’s awake. Despite their rushing steps, he’s barely jostling around.

With a grunt from the ebbing pain, he casts his gaze to the right. Isane walks speedily alongside those carrying him; as she does, she’s calling out orders to those around her. In the gap between her and one of her subordinates, he sees Komamura and Hisagi being carried on stretchers as well.

Where’s Hinamori? He can't sense her reiatsu anywhere. Is she still back in the Fake Karakura Town? The only thought stopping him from trying to get off the stretcher is that Unohana had shown up. She's in safe hands, but it doesn't stop the urgency that thrums through him.

“Captain Hitsugaya, you’re awake!”

He returns his attention Fourth Division’s lieutenant. A few of the surrounding officer glance at him, but are quick to turn their gazes away.

Isane offers him a relieved smile, but her concern keeps it small. “You’re back in the Soul Society, we’re taking you to Fourth Division. We’ve been told Inoue-san will assist with healing our wounded. Given their severity, we can ask her tend to your injuries first.”

“No,” he rasps out.

Isane blinks, her smile vanishing. “What?”

“Contact Kurotsuchi…I want Hojiku-Zai.”

A flicker of horror crosses over her face. Even the officers carrying him slow their pace and exchange surprised or concerned looks.

“Captain, are certain?” she asks. “Inoue-san shouldn’t be more than a few hours. We can treat your wounds until she arrives and can ask her to see you fir– ”

“I’m certain.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he can’t afford to wait any longer. “I’m aware of the consequences, Kotetsu. Tell Kurotsuchi if he’s returned, or whoever he appointed to oversee Twelfth Division in his absence.”

She takes in a heavy breath, considering.

He doesn’t have time for this. He can’t be like this for a moment longer. The urgency buzzes along his nerves and he holds on to it, lets it take over his senses.

Eventually, Isane raises her hand, signalling her officers to halt. Then, she bows to him; even as she does this, she winces. “I’ll inform him and Akon-san right away.”

_____________________________________

Hinamori drifts in the darkness. It had been numbing up until a stinging sparks in her eyes. She has no choice but to open them.

She does it slowly, but even then, it doesn’t stop her from grimacing from the brightness of the light. Where is she? Why is it so bright?

Shadows come into the edges of her vision, hazy and moving around her. Then sound returns, and there’s the beeping and humming of machinery. The air is cold, and smells odd. The figures around her are speaking, but she can’t make out what they’re saying.

One of them gets closer. They’re holding something and bringing it towards her face. “Lieutenant…we’re about to…you’ll be out for…”

Their words fade in and out. She’s too weak to speak. She simply stares back at the figure as they put what they hold over her face. Whatever it is, it’s making her return back to the darkness. She doesn’t fight her eyes closing.

_____________________________________

There’s a whirl of machinery that runs through the whole of Twelfth Division. In this room, it’s quieter, a background noise to the comings and goings of division members just outside of the door. Looking around, Hitsugaya suspects it’s an examination room. It’s sparsely furnished, with only a thin mattress over the metal table he sits on, a two-tiered tray that’s been wheeled over to him, and a chair in the corner.

He glances at Hyourinmaru, still dirty with concrete dust and rubble, propped up against the wall at his bedside. He remains silent, but Hitsugaya can sense his seething; at him or something else, he can't tell.

The wall he presses his back against is chilly and gives off a dull shine from the overhead lights. Despite the coldness and strange odors scenting the air, he’s glad to be in a room like this. It’s quiet, the silence in stark contrast to everything that’s happened in the last several hours. There’s also the fact that during the few times he needed to visit, he’d seen other rooms in the division, and tried not to think about what half of the machines in this barracks did.

He shudders. He never thought there would come a day when he’d ask Mayuri for anything. He’d always been conflicted about his fellow captain; on one hand, he has a brilliant mind that has led to leaps in technology for the Soul Society and the work the Shinigami carry out. On the other, his methods were abhorrent and went against most of what he’d once thought Shinigami stood for.

How things had changed. How he had changed. Over the years, and in a matter of a few hours.

The door opens with a low, metallic whine. Hitsugaya is oddly calm when Akon enters the room with two needles and a vial. In the latter is a green liquid that sloshes around as he approaches.

“Captain Hitsugaya,” he says in way of greeting.

Hitsugaya only nods in return.

Akon keeps his expression measured, but Hitsugaya senses a slight hesitation in him. He wonders if he spoke with the Fourth Division member Isane left with him, who stands outside of the room.

“Are you aware of the side effects for Hojiku-Zai?” Akon asks.

“I’ve heard that it’s painful,” he says. “Incredibly painful.”

“It may also lead to small defects, such as aching joints or missing fingers or toes. However, it’s a rare occurrence and your limbs should be the same they were before they were severed, but I feel I should still warn you. Knowing this, do you still want to proceed?”

“Yes.”

Akon comes around to his left side and puts the needles and vial down on the tray. Hitsugaya’s uniform sleeve and pant leg had been cut off by Fourth Division members. Akon removes the several layers of gauze wrapped around his shoulder first. “You’ll want to bite down on something,” he advises, nodding to the folded cloth next to the needles. “It’s far more painful than you realise.”

“Kotetsu numbed my shoulder and leg before I got here.”

“It might help a little, but it will only work so far. I assume she wasn't able to numb every area, given the type of wounds. As such, it likely won’t stop the pain that’s going to come from the regrowth of your nerves.”

“Then what if I was unconscious?”

“It doesn’t work unless you’re awake.”

How Mayuri had come up with his contraptions and procedures often bewildered Hitsugaya. He can’t say he’s surprised that a requirement for something like this involves being conscious. “Very well.”

He grabs the cloth offered to him by Akon and puts it between his teeth. Akon stops on the last layer of gauze and assists Hitsugaya to lie down. He then sticks one of the needles through the vial’s cork top and extracts some of the green liquid. “I’d also advise you to not look, it’s not…pleasant.”

Hitsugaya grunts in ascent. Despite the warning, he eyes the needle as he lays his head back against the mattress. Akon removes the final piece of gauze.

“It will be quick,” he says, but it’s less of an assurance to ease any anxiety Hitsugaya may have and more of an affirmation to what Hitsugaya hoped the procedure will be. He can’t wait for anything else, he needs something quick. He knows pain, has experienced in many battle, and nothing would ever come close to what he'd been gone through only a few hours ago.

As the needle draws closer to his shoulder, he shuts his eyes. With sight gone, he reaches out his senses, picking up on all of Twelfth Division’s reiatsu, but he searches through and over them, until there’s a small fire. She’s further down the hallway, her reiatsu steady but weak.

He’d sensed it earlier when he was being taken by Isane and her officers to Twelfth Division.

“She needs to undergo several operations,” Isane had explained when seeing his stricken reaction. “Minazuki couldn't heal her internal injuries. Once her operations are complete, she’ll be transferred to Fourth Division.”

“When will that be?” he’d asked, voice taut.

Isane’s expression had softened to one of sympathy. “We’re not sure, but Akon-san has estimated up to two weeks.”

Akon's free hand presses down on the gap between his neck and shoulder.

Live, he begs again. You have to live, Hinamori.

Hitsugaya clings on to that plea even as the needle pierces his arm and he bites into the cloth to muffle his scream.

_________________________

Hinamori kept the smile in place even as he turned to go back to his division. She's never been happier for him than in this moment. It wasn't only because he deserved a promotion like this after decades of hard work, but because he'd finally come out of the slump. It's hard not to blame him for getting into one, with his captain vanishing without warning or any clues as to what happened.

She feared he had lost his purpose, but with his shoulders squared and his steps purposeful, any worry that lingered lifted from her heart.

The haori suited him in an odd way. To think a Soul this young could achieve a rank this high, but given his prodigal level in skills and intellect, it shouldn't surprise her. Still, even thought it had been a month since he was appointed captain of Tenth Division, she had to stop herself from doing a double take at the haori and new hairstyle.

She'd get used it in time, and she has no doubt he will be a captain for many decades, maybe even centuries.

But the longer she looked at his receding back, the more a strange sensation crept in. It's one she'd experienced a few times, perhaps even tried to ignore many more. There's a distance between them, one that had began when she started at the Academy.

She'd always known she wouldn't see him around as much, but they're friends, always have been, but it didn't mean they would walk the same path. Certain things, like promotions and her dedication to Fifth Division, made it harder to close this gap between them.

It's not an issue, she told herself when a ting of sadness edged it's way in and damped her smile. They'll be friends be for centuries, until death. So then, when had it gone from knowing that to hoping it can be like that?

________________________

By the time he is taken to his room in Fourth Division, Hitsugaya wants nothing more than to sleep. Unlike others, he had this one to himself and away from the majority of the noise of the division. A faint pain throbbed through his regrown limbs. Without having to tell Isane this, she and another division member wrapped them in bandages coated in the same salve that she used to numb his wounds before.

“Where’s Matsumoto?” he’d asks after she’s finished and her assistant leaves the room. “Is she here?”

“She will be shortly,” Isane says. “She required further treatment from Twelfth Division. Her operation began after you left and shouldn’t take more than two hours. Lieutenant Kira did what he could at the time, but Lieutenant Matsumoto ended up straining herself too much when she came to the Soul Society.”

Hitsugaya’s eyes widen. “She came here during the fight?”

Isane’s lips form a thin, tight line and she avoids his gaze. “I don't knwo why that is, but she'll tell you in time. She’s scheduled to arrive here after her operation. We’ll use extensive kido to ensure she’s discharged in two days time.” She gestures to the bandages. “We’ll remove these tomorrow morning, the pain will have subsided by then. We’ll also perform tests on your limbs to ensure there isn’t any abnormalities. We trust Akon-san’s assessment of the treatment, but we just need to make sure.”

He can only nod.

She bows. “I need to attend to other patients. Dinner will arrive for you shortly. We have officers stationed nearby if require anything.”

He bows his head in return. “Thank you, Kotetsu.”

He barely touches dinner when it’s served to him. Along with no appetite, a sense of nauseous threatens to churn his stomach even at the scent of food. He ignores the concerned look for the officer who comes to collect his dishes several minutes later.

There’s a constant commotion going on outside his room, coming through as muffled rushed footsteps and the occasional shout. He doesn’t pay attention to any of it.

In the silence, with his pain in his limbs numbed, he stares at the ceiling, at the space between two lights, eyes heavy but unwilling to close. He breathes in deeply, quietly. There isn’t a coherent thought going through his mind. Only a series of sensations, wordless and weighing his head down. His chest still hurts, but it’s less of a clenching twist and more of the aftermath of holding something too tightly. It flows out wide, as though he is caught in the ripples of a stone that’s shot through water.

This ache threatens to bring back, in vivid detail, everything that happened today.

I couldn't protect her.

With a fierce shake of his head, he chooses to focus on something else. Hyourinmaru now lays on a table at his bedside. The weapon is only a little bit cleaner, with the hilt and sheath baring smudges of dirty. He makes to reach for his zanpakuto but stops when he's about to move his regenerated limb.

Swallowing thickly, he tilts his head a fraction and stares down at the arm. He’s barely moved the new limbs, and when he did it was involuntarily. He feels and senses everything about them – their weight, the fabric of the dried bandages, the natural coolness of his skin – as if he hadn’t lost them in the first place.

With a strange hesitation, Hitsugaya lifts and bends the arm at the elbow. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. No pain. No odd sensations. As if it were the arm he’s always had. But it isn’t. It’s something entirely new, unknowable yet looking the exact same as before.

_________________________

He’d fallen asleep at some point, but jolts awake in a cold sweat and a cry strangled in his throat. He’d kicked off the sheets and his arms reach out in the air. With his aching heart racing, he barely remembers to breathe. He wipes his hands over his face, trying to get rid of the blood that isn’t there, until he remembers where he is.

It happened all over again.

He swallows back the threat of tears and curls inwards. He keeps his eyes wide open for the rest of the night and into the dawn before a division members comes to check on him.

_________________________

Hinamori awakens in a darker room. There's still the humming of machinery, but there's now a window letting in the first rays of the sunrise. She breathes in, but it's strange. It's air, but thicker and hotter. Something is attached to her face and digging into the sides of her head. A mask, she realises.

She tries and fails to raise a hand to her remove it. She can feel something working within her to keep the pain at bay, but it must be affect her movements too, making them sluggish and heavy.

She looks around the room for someone or for a button to press, but this isn't like any room in Fourth Division. Where is she?

You're in Twelfth Division, Master.

She startles at Tobiume's voice. She's barely perceptible, as though speaking to her through a thick wall. Hinamori raises her head, and immediately regrets it when a wave of dizziness hits her. She lowers her head with a wince. She feels around, until her right hand ghosts across the sheets and bumps into her zanpakuto. The connection between them is tenuous, only made slightly stronger when she wraps her fingers around the blade's sheeth. She chances turning her head, an there lies Tobiume on a stand next to her bed.

"Why...?"

She doesn't finish her question. The word briefly flashes a memory before her eyes, but she can't make out what it is.

Healing...It's the only word she can hear from her zanpakuto.

The darkness has fallen to far for her to drifts back into. She can only stare at the ceiling, waiting for someone to come.

_________________________

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur. Hitsugaya remains seated in bed, staring out the window into an empty courtyard. He can't think a coherent thought, can only languish in a haze that consumes his mind.

Eventually, another officer delivers his breakfast. He's about to send it away when he notices movements over the officer's shoulder.

His eyes widen when he spots Rangiku over the officer’s shoulder.

She stands in the doorway of his room, one arm bandaged and a slouch in her shoulders. What strikes him the most, however, are the dark circles beneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin, and the frizz in her hair.

“Captain,” she says.

The officer – Mori, he remembers now -- finally notices her. “Ah, Lieutenant Matsumoto. Are you alright? Did you need something?”

Rangiku shakes her head. “No, I was coming to visit my captain. I’ll come back later.”

“It’s fine,” Hitsugaya speaks up. “You can come in.”

Mori worries his lip for a second, then bows. “I’ll return shortly.”

Rangiku steps aside for him to leave. Even left lalone, she doesn’t move into the room from the doorway. She leans against it, as if she’d been putting on an act before with how well she really is.

“Are you sure it’s all right for you to be walking around?” Hitsugaya asks.

She says nothing, only meeting his gaze, and it's enough to tell him she has been through something awful. Something has broken within her, like him.

Her gaze softens, and she lets out a short, quiet sigh before righting herself. She nods to his untouched breakfast on his bedside table. “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” he says, not sparing the food a glance.

She walks into the room. Her steps are slow, hiding the unsteadiness he can sense from her. “Still, it’s not good to have an empty stomach," she reasons, "especially at times like this.”

Did she even realise she spoke the words Isshin’s used to tell them whenever they skipped a meal?

“Did you eat yours?” he asks.

That gets a flicker of a smile from her. “You have me there.”

As she sits down in the chair at his bedside, he takes up the bowl of soup and hands it to her. “Then here. I don’t feel like having miso today anyway.”

She blinks at his offering. “I…” She lets out a strange sound, a cross between a humored huff and a withheld sob. “Thank you, Captain.”

She’s quick to take the bowl and start draining it, and he withholds his questioning by eating a piece of tamagoyaki. He leaves two for her, giving her the dish after he’s done with it.

He’s never been like this with her. They look out for each other and ensure each other's welfare, but never like this. It’s never gotten to the point where they are concerned the other hasn’t eaten, to the point where they can barely speak to each other but can still convey without words they’ve gone through something unimaginable.

“How are your arm and leg, sir?” she asks. “Captain Unohana told me you underwent Hojiku-Zai."

There's an additional question there that goes unspoken: Why did you choose that method? He ignores it. “They’re doing tests on them within the hour. After that, they’ll assess whether I can be discharged later today or tomorrow.”

“But how do they feel?”

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary.” He’d only moved his regenerated limbs to sit up, but otherwise kept them immobile. However, to prove his point, he lifts his left arm. There’s stiffness from keeping it still, making his movements stilted as he raises it. “It’s like nothing happened.”

It feels like a confession, a vulnerable moment he’d normally keep from her. He blames the exhaustion and the wordless thought eddying in his head. He can’t deny, however, that it’s a relief to speak with someone like her. Someone who knows him, has seen him in harder times.

“How are your injuries?” he asks while lowering his arm to his side. He doesn’t want to think back to the fight, but can’t help it as he recalls, “On the battlefield, I sensed your reiatsu change suddenly. You were almost on the brink of death. What happened?”

Perhaps without realising, Rangiku clutches the left side of her waist. “I was attacked by a creature created by those three Arrancar – Ayon I think is what it was called. Kira-kun did what he could. Twelfth finished what he’d started, and then Fourth healed over the rest. It’s all better now, and Captain Unohana said I shouldn’t have any issues.” She raises her bandaged arm. “This is just for scratches and strain. They’ll probably remove it today.”

He gives a nod. “That’s good to hear."

She waits, shoulders tense and fingers lacing together in her lap. She must sense his hesitation and eagerness to ask her further. Is now the best time? If not now, when? If she weren’t here, he’s certain his thoughts would fall back to what happened yesterday or to Hinamori is, helpless to do anything for her. He knows even after he gets out of here, that’s still going to be case. For how long, he can’t predict.

“Something else happened there,” he says, voice gravely. “You vanished from the fight in the Fake Karakura Town. You ended up here, and from what Kotetsu told me, Aizen and Ichimaru did as well.”

She eyes twitch at the mention of Gin’s name. It’s as he suspected, but seeing her reaction makes him change his mind about where to lead this conversation. “I won’t ask you to explain your actions now, but I will in the coming days.”

Her shoulders fall. “Yes, of course.”

He lets out a short breath. Despite the obvious relief that she doesn’t have explain what happened after the vanished, there’s still an air of tension around her, and it’s his turn to wait for her to come out with it.

“They’ll probably be coming to do your tests soon.” He blinks at her words, and all the tautness floods out of him. She makes to stand, as if she hadn’t noticed the tension in the air at all. “I’ll leave you to –”

“You can stay.” She freezes at his offer. “Unless you need to return to your room.”

She hesitates, briefly glancing at the doorway behind her, then sinks back into the chair. “I guess someone needs to make sure you don’t act out.”

It’s as close to normality as he’s gotten in the last twenty-four hours. If this were any other situation he’d lecture her, but instead, he huffs. “That’s my line.”

__________________________________

<< Prev chapter || Chapter Index || Next chapter >> coming soon

#hitsuhina #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #rangiku matsumoto #isane kotetsu #bleach #fanfiction #akon #brotp: I've got your back #I wanted to end this chapter on a happier note #given all the angst of the past chapter #and yes I know the gif is of a right hand #but I couldn't find another that fitted this chapter T_T

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northwest-cryptid · 1 month ago

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You know a very real part of me wonders how many of us have depression and see life as less of a fun and vibrant place as we get older if not just because it literally is.

I'm not even talking about how your body adjusts and how colors lose their vibrancy and all that. I'm talking about how when I was young, we sure as hell had Nokia bricks that were just black or grey or whatever. However we also had colored pencil boxes, and Macintosh computers for kids in school, cars came in brighter more varied colors, and most the tech was either given a colored shell like old Gameboy devices, or had some kind of colored accessories. A lot of the latest stuff coming out was stylized almost to a fault of form over function. Everything from phones and computers to art supplies and backpacks had some kind of vibrant color and whimsical design to it. Not just because most of that shit was for kids; but because it was just what we did back in the day.

Your computer mouse would have a unique shape or your jacket would have interesting little design tweaks from others. Maybe your shoes lit up or had some kind of weird gimmick to them. Now it's like, my monitors are black thin squares, my computer is a minimalist white box with a clear side panel and some RGB lights. That's all the color I get, a black keyboard with RGBs, a black thin tablet; a black generic mouse with RGBs, black headphones; black controllers, a black thin phone, a black mic sitting on a black mic arm on my black thin desk.

Listen I get it, I'm goth and all that, I understand that a lot of this is a matter of choice, but a lot of it also isn't. This is just how tech looks now, this is just how things are designed. To be thinner, to be sleeker, to be ignored. Sure blobjects and the like were horrible wastes of plastic, but I cannot tell you just how much personality everything had. The world used to embrace vibrancy and whimsy, now it is seen as childish. Now we seek the "modern" mundane look of monotone grays, black and white tech. It's all so boring, and the stuff that is slightly unique is expensive as hell. You can't afford to have personality in your tech anymore, literally. If something does have an ounce of interesting design it's typically pretty cheaply made and will fail within a year.

I don't latch onto Y2K aesthetics and the like because of some weird nostalgia for a promised future torn away from me by capitalism. I genuinely enjoy the vibrant colors, interesting fun designs, and just general love for life that it had. Y2K to me is a celebration of technology, it's why nearly everything came with the option to be transparent so you could see all the inner workings. Now even that has been dumbed down to a generic black cube graphics card and some generic minimalist black fans in my PC. That's all I get now, I don't get these colorful transparent interesting shells that let me peer into the inner workings of the tech I use. It's either unavailable, or too expensive; and even when it is available and affordable; it's typically poorly made or fails to understand the true aesthetic and interest of the reason for it in the first place. I don't care if I can see into my PC if all that's in there is a generic sleek black box. Show me the circuit boards, the wires and connections. Show me the lights that flash to indicate signals firing and being received.

Show me the soul of the machine I operate, let me watch as it dances to carry out my will. We used to be in love with our technology, we used to appreciate it's inner workings, what made it tick. It was like seeing the innards of a loved one but rather than feeling repulsed; it was like seeing their very soul, understanding that you love not only the exterior; but that you find beauty in what makes them function on the inside too.

Now all I'm left with is a simple thin black box, to be tucked away; hidden out of sight; ignored. Tech is something to be used, upgraded, replaced; and discarded. We do not love our tech, we do not love anything we create now. We create to consume, to sell; to profit.

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goth-maudra · 3 months ago

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AN ODE BLATHERING OUT TO THE ETHER: I am a terrible, horrible person, pissed as hell at NG and have to freely admit:

I am a horrible person because I am devastated about the accusations (at NG's behavior, *ABSOLUTELY NOT* at the victims standing up). The Good Omens fandom got me through the hell of COVID and the nightmare US presidency. I have lifelong organic depression and it's helped me with that. And what a MASTERPIECE of production with flawless acting by David Tennant and Michael Sheen.

Let me back up for a second. I am ***IN NO WAY***victim blaming or victim shaming. There's been writing on the wall, especially with Douglas Mackinnon's announcing he no longer has any association with Good Omens and closed out all of his social medias. But I feel very affronted to the tune of: how dare you, NG. How dare your actions threaten cancellation upon David Tennant, Michael Sheen, and the rest of the cast of very talented actors. And your behavior likely causing season 3 to be completely shitcanned. How dare you cause artists, writers, etc to possibly avoid creating (fanart/fics/cosplays, etc) to avoid a dogpile of cancellation.

(And THANK YOU and your socks, Mr. Sheen, I think we all needed that.😊)

But selfish-est of all from me is sadness knowing I'll never get to see it. Even if production (by some miracle) does get underway anywhere close to the original schedule (possibly with new showrunner and the blessing by Sir Terry Pratchett's estate for the parts he wrote), I'll never get to see it. If it gets off the ground a bit later, I'll still never get to see it. I have MULTIPLE autoimmune illnesses, am physically disabled, have lifelong organic clinical depression, stage 4 nonalcoholic liver cirrhosis, and am also shouldering a severe fungal infection from mold we never knew was in our home. We can't sell or afford to relocate. I'm also in nonalcoholic liver failure, it's a crouton and can't heal itself anymore. The antifungal meds can really kick the shit out of a *healthy* liver. I also have lung damage from COVID with pneumonia and respiratory failure. I don't leave the house much anymore because without a powered wheelchair or scooter, if I get to a store and they're all in use, I'm fucked. Plus not being able to breathe, so mostly everything is ordered now. My 31-year marriage is also on wobbly ground because my husband still leans towards me having Delusional Parasitosis (which is easier to process as a thing than moldy-from-the-inside-out) because he wants to *fix* things. Husband's not the bad guy here. More the frustrated guy. Maybe I could embroider a Frustrated Guy cape.🤔

Anyway. Everyone *ELSE* associated with Good Omens in the past and possible future doesn't deserve to have their career cancelled by association with NG. I wish to the point of tears that Michael Sheen's socks bring reassurance to the production of S3 happening someday and that creating art and fiction and cosplays is still okay.

But not for me. I'm running out of time.

#neil gaiman #good omens #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley #ineffable husbands #eldergoth #good omens season 2 #good omens series two #good omens angels #good omens demons #goddammit #fallen angel #fuck you neil gaiman

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waitingforlostsouls · 3 months ago

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One of the biggest issues for me in my life now having to deal with a chronic illness, is that when I'm tired and sick, and I miss an appointment, I'm made to feel like I'm waisting money. Because more often than not, you can't get your money back for these things. And when you have a schedule like mine where you're constantly working, and have to go to doctors appointments, gym times, PT, OT, and specialists on top of that who say 'Well I think you're doing great, but I want to have you back-' you're going to miss something.

And when you're in a situation like what many of us are going through right now with economic stress, having someone tell you that you're waisting money by being sick (which you can't help) makes you feel like shit. And I feel terrible because I'm still in school, and I have to focus on getting my work to my professors; which means that a lot of this pressure to organize stuff is on the other people in my life. So not only do you become aware that you're an economic burden to people, but you feel like an emotional burden on others too. Which, when it comes to dealing with something that drastically changes your life, and already makes you more anxious and depressed as a result, being made to feel like a burden is devastating.

Because what does that do for you? You're in a situation you can't help, but you're being made to feel like the bad guy for having to rely on people, when obviously you rather be doing these things yourself. Everyone tells you to go rest and relax, and that they're here for you; up until things start becoming slightly inconvenient. Because in a world where we've done many good things when it comes to making people aware when they're being used and exploited, we've also validated leaving people to fend for themselves when they obviously can't do so. And that is honestly a make or break aspect of society for people like me, because you have no other option to get help. You can't afford to hire a personal assistant, you can't afford to have someone pick up your groceries for you every week. And most of all, you need people to turn to when you're dealing with all this.

Sometimes you just need a friend to hear you out when you're having a bad day. And the amount of people who have turned into the biggest brats over this is insane. The fact your friend is now sick is not as big a problem for you as it is for them. Why are you taking it out them? I've had to cut little shits out of my life who have gone 'Oh, I'm in this era of like, not caring about anyone else, and only keeping the people in my life who serve me.' Which, as a society, the fact we let people develop that as an idea is a moral failing. Not everything is going to literally serve you. That phrase is meant to be understood emotionally, Jessica. As in "Does it serve you emotionally? Is it adding emotional value to your life?" Not "Are people only doing what you want to do and nothing else? No? They're toxic." That's just not how it works. And the amount of people who have gone and done stuff like that, and tried to make me feel like the asshole for being sick, or not being "fun" anymore is absolutely sickening. They've actually been suprised when I've gone and cut them out of my own life, and sat them down and said I don't want to be friends anymore, because they've acted like that. No honey, it's not cute and quirky that you're going through your sociopath phase where you just can't be bothered to feel sympathy for your sick friend. You actually, and this is crazy, might be a horrible person for being like that. Just a thought. Maybe wake up to the fact humans throughout history have only survived and thrived off of community, and making your sick friend feel like shit for a circumstance they didn't choose, but you agreed to help them through, is shit. This might be controversial, but you are a shit person if you abandon someone and talk down to them for being a "burden" after you have volunteered yourself as a helper, and someone to rely on. You're not the anti-hero. You're just a bad person.

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there-must-be-more-than-blood · 3 months ago

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" we'd be starving artists

if we were artists

but we won't let ourselves

become the art

(no, we'll never sink that low) "

#car seat headrest #csh #we can't afford (your depression anymore)#nervous young man #lyric posting #lyrics

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csh-tournament · 5 months ago

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ROUND 3, MATCH 6

Bodys vs We Can't Afford (Your Depression Anymore)

Reblogs appreciated for bigger sample size

Listen below

#car seat headrest tournament #polls #stage 2 #round 3 #bodys #we can't afford (your depression anymore)#car seat headrest #csh #cshr #Bandcamp

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kingsansa · 2 months ago

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Hi ! I just wanted to say I (cried) so much for PP last night lol such a beautiful story, feels like it's the type of story that has been waiting for me. I normally tend to skip incomplete story simply because I can't bear with waiting (just like now!). I really feel so so close to your Sansa, and at the same time I struggle to understand her and her thoughts. She seems... so sad. Yet, she claims she isn't overall. I wanted to ask if you could talk about her to me, maybe let me know your opinion on her. At times she breaks my heart because I think "she's depressed", other times I think whatever she has in her head would just be fixed in only she said it out loud.. Anyway. Thank you for sharing this story with us. Looking forward to the new chapter! xx

At the moment, a lot of her words aren’t aligning with her actions. She says she’s not sad but she’s in this brand new city and missing home every second that she’s alone. She says that she trusts Jon but she clearly doesn’t trust him enough to talk about things (skating with Edric, Dany, etc) She says that she forgives him but as much as she refuses to admit it, the past is still impacting how she interacts with him in the present. She isn’t being honest with herself. She’s always been an anxious person and that anxiety is manifesting itself in the worst way here and she’s struggling to manage it.

Still, she’s a very strong person. Having a kid isn’t easy. Raising him along for seven months isn’t easy. Deciding to move hundreds of miles away from home isn’t easy. But Jon is her first love. To call what she has for him a soft spot would be the understatement of the century. He’s her “Achilles heart” as Carrie Fisher would say. Aside from the cheating, Harry didn’t get away with half of the shit that Jon did, and the only reason Harry got away with cheating is because she was trying to GET OVER Jon. He’s everything to her. So when we see her not telling him things, holding back, not being upfront with her feelings, it’s all with the hope of keeping him around in mind. He’s told her over and over again that he’s not going anywhere but she can’t make herself completely believe him. And it’s not just because she’s been burned before, but because it isn’t just her life anymore.

And she draws strength from that—having Robbie changed her. In some ways, I do think it restored some of her pride. Right now, we don’t really see that because she’s letting Jon slide on A LOT because she hid Robbie from him, and she’s still beating herself up about that but her threshold for bullshit is a lot lower than it used to be and in the next chapter, we’re gonna start seeing what it looks like when he pushes at those limits.

The cherry on top (to me) is that Jon is completely unaware of this change. Obviously, he knows that it changed her life, just as knowing that Robbie existed changed his, but he definitely still believes he’s dealing with 15 year old sansa, 18 year old sansa, the sansa that he could—for lack of better phrasing—run game on. (No it wasn’t intentional but that’s what he did.) Unfortunately for him, that’s not the case. That girl could afford to give you fiftyleven chances. This woman cannot. Not only that, but she’s been around the block with Harry a couple times now, does he not know she thinks what a lie sounds like? The only reason he’s being allowed to get away with it is because one, she NEEDS what he said to be the truth, and two, she knows she didn’t really have a right to ask in the first place.

tldr: I love her just as much as my other sansa’s and I could write a whole essay on her and Jon is in for a rude awakening and I can’t WAIT

#answered #pp

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theangelsheardyou · 10 months ago

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Nothing on my mind except Chuuya with depression who gets some help from an expert in that field (dazai🙄)

It starts simple. Dazai and Chuuya often meet at an underground bar to have a drink together. It's the one time they can talk to each other peacefully, no need for their constant bickering and attacks, here they can actually be civilized.

Chuuya doesn't notice it at first. All he knows is that as of late, he hasn't really been in the mood. Jobs that he would finish in a heartbeat suddenly become such a burden. Things he used to love like music and wine are all but fuzzy memories, he doesn't feel anything for them now. He's always tired, and he's never tired. Chuuya would never admit when he wants to hit the hay. As long as the boss needed him, he was there.

He comes in late for his and Dazai's biweekly meetings. Dazai can already tell the other is in distress. His once so strong appearance that he accomplished with so much effort seemed improvised, shirt undone by three top buttons, jacket hanging by his arm, no vest, hair in disarray, it was barely like Chuuya anymore.

"What's wrong, Slug? You win a hobo costume contest or something?" Dazai tried to tease, to lighten the mood.

"Shut up, fish for brains, m' not in the mood." Chuuya says begrudgingly as he takes a seat one stool away from Dazai, like he always did.

"Oh? Do tell," Dazai slid a glass of shiny brown liquid and three floating ice cubes to his ex partner, who took it without a word.

"None of your goddamn business, Mackerel." Chuuya was grumpy, cranky even, at Dazai's poor attempt at comforting him.

"Aw, c'mon, Chuu! This is Lupin we're in! What's the point of this place still standing if we don't share anything and everything in it?"

Chuuya sighed a short "fine" and opened up.

"I've just been so tired lately." He said.

"Oh? Mori giving you trouble?"

"Nah, the workload's just as much as before, I checked. It just...feels like more than I can carry, y'know?"

"Well, maybe you should take a break," Dazai said in a cheerful tone. "I know a couple of islands you could visit for a vacation. They've got wine and music and probably some tacky hats if you feel like i-"

"That's the thing, I'm not in the mood to take a break. Or do the things I want. They just....don't seem that appealing anymore. And even if I do take some time off, what if the boss needs me? I can't just let go of that responsibility."

By now Chuuya has had one too many drinks than he can handle in this state, and by that I mean he's only had one, the one Dazai gave him. Already he was looking even worse. Dazai figured it was time for him to go home.

Usually when Chuuya was drunk and Dazai was the poor soul who had to take him home to safety, he would be met with countless insults and "I'm not drunk"s or "one last drink"s. But this time, Chuuya didn't resist a bit. He groggily got off the stool, greeted the bartender, took his coat and walked out silently with Dazai. It's a feeling the latter definitely wasn't used to.

They got to Chuuya's apartment, a luxurious suite at the top of a 30+ story condo that had a bigger bedroom than Dazai's entire home, and the brunette laid his friend down on the couch. Once he knew he was comfortable he slid down to sit on the floor with his back leaning on the couch, staying close to watch his friend. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it won't be the last.

"Dazai?"

"Yeah?"

"You get feelings like this too, right?"

"All the time, buddy. Why?"

"I was worried about that. Do you...have any tips on...how to deal with it?"

Dazai paused for a second.

"Have you thought about just...not dealing with it?"

"Can't afford to do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, unlike you, some of us are actually competent assets to our jobs. If I go down the entire Port Mafia will go down too."

"That's not your responsibility."

"It was when you left."

Another long pause. Chuuya was a little out of it, but even he could tell it was too quiet in there.

The silence was so long Chuuya's eyes started to get heavier. His long lashes would flutter up and down as he tried to remain awake. He didn't know why, there was no reason for him to stay away that night...right?

Dazai felt the change in Chuuya's atmosphere even while looking away. As he turned around he saw Chuuya's cute little eyelids flutter like butterflies and his bright blue pupils softening towards slumber.

"Are you going to sleep? Because I can leave if you want." Dazai was quick to get back up on his feet and make his way to the door. However he wasn't quick enough for something to not catch him by the tail of his coat.

"Wait," came a voice. Dazai looked behind him. Chuuya had pulled himself out of the couch just to reach him. His hand gripped on lightly to his coat yet it was probably all the strength he could muster.

"Could you...stay here for a little while?" He asked bashfully. They weren't little kids anymore, asking a guy to stay the night means something now.

Dazai's face went from confused to soft and reassuring. "Sure, Shrimp." He said as he made his way back to the couch. "Since Chuuya needs me so much, I guess I can stay."

"All I need you for is to repel any mice or rats that come in here. Your fishy scent will drive them away."

"Oh my! How hurtful! You've really done it now, Chuuya, I'm devastated!"

"Shut up..."

Neither of them know how it happened, but soon enough the two were asleep. Chuuya on the couch, stomach down and face to the side in case he needed to vomit (he didn't) with a hand reaching out. And Dazai leaning against the arm rest of the couch, also slightly on his side, hand almost touching Chuuya's.

#depressed chuuya #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya #chuuya bsd #dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai bsd #soukoku #soukoku fanfic #soukoku fanfiction #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #fluff

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twistedroseytoesy · 2 years ago

Text

Here comes trouble

amazing song suggested for Ruggie and i turned it into an AU where ruggie overblots rather than Leona.

Used dialogue from "An Urge to Concede" from book 2, after the italisized text is where the AU starts. Also the song part of the parody is going to be animatic styled to flow a bit better.

"... Tch whatever. I dont even care anymore." Leona grumbled his attitude dropped like a rock in a pond.

"what?" ruggie said somehat dumbfounded by his dormleaders sudden 180 in attitude.

"i'm done. its over." Leona said with a sigh.

"Boss, what are you saying?!" Ruggie said anger and disbelief burning in his exclamation.

"Are you even payin' attention? If Malleus is able to take the field then we got no chance of winning." Leona explained, an air of depression slouching his shoulders. "There's no point even trying. I'm out."

"Y-you can't just...!" Ruggie begged before catching himself and trying to reason with the now sulking lion. "Malleus might still be in the game, but we took out all the other dorms' best players, right? But without you on the field, I don't even know if we'd have a shot at the top three!" He said ears drooping. "You're just going to abandon our dreams?" He said somewhat quietly, unwilling to believe the words he was hearing.

"For all the talk about "the world watching," this is still just schoolkids playin' a game," Leona said sharply. "All you wide-eyed tenderfoots talkin' about your dreams... Pfft. The whole thing amused me, so I threw you a bone. That's all this was." The other students and Ruggie flinched at that. at how their hope and excitement was all for nothing.

"What do you mean? What happened to working together to "turn the world upside down"?!"Ruggie asked desperately, he felt a burning in his heart and he wanted so desperately to believe that all that he had gone through, to finally reach somewhere, was for something. It had to have been for something. Otherwise, why was he so hurt?

"Are you seriously still goin' on about that? All right, fine. You wanna hear the truth?" Leona said now glaring at the hyena boy who was so hard to knock down. "You're a hyena who grew up in a dump, and I'm a secondborn prince who won't ever be king. And there is NO turning that around!" Leona roared and Ruggie felt his greedy little heart break. And from that breaking, he felt anger, rage, indignancy at all that he had done for Leona.

"What? You gotta be kidding me! What is this? You can't just quit after we've come this far! Not after all the hard work we've done, that I've done!" Ruggie said now indignant. The other Savanaclaw students agreed and Ruggie could feel something building up inside of himself but he didn't care. After using up basically all of his magic with Azul's potion, he was beyond pissed at how easily Leona gave up.

"After eveything, we've done! after everything that We worked together to achieve?! you just give up like that?! leaving nothing but crushed dreams?" Ruggie could feel something leaking from his eyes but he refused to back down now. "We're your pack! and you better start acting like a leader or else..."

"or else what Bucchi? You gonna cry about it?" Leona scoffed. "Go ahead and whine all you want. There's no changing that we'll lose it's easier to just give up little hyena." Ruggie felt something snap.

"I've seen people just give up." he said darkly glaring at the ground. " and It never helped anyone. I've never given up because I couldn't afford to." He started to growl, a darkness starting to drip from his eyes and fingertips. The others around him could sense something was very wrong. "You prissy little prince couldn't even handle a small bump in the plan before giving up?! shehehehahahahaha!" Leona's ears went down as more darkness started to pool around Ruggie.

"What did you say to me mutt?" Leona growled back, unwilling to back down from the one he thought was always above. Riddle tried to cut in but he was suddenly frozen in place, many of the students around were too.

"I've worked my tail off day in and day out. If I just gave up I WOULDNT EVEN BE HERE. And you wouldn't either! I'm tired of your high and mighty attitude." Ruggie screamed moving his hands wildly, everyone else around him other than Leona following his movements.

"you know what would happen to you back in my cut of the neighborhood Second born prince. You would be mugged and beaten to no tomorrow. So Leona, here comes trouble." he said darkly before a large burst of dark energy sent everyone back and kicked up large amounts of dust into the air.

"Overblott!" ace and deuce yelled when they got onto their feet. Mc watched and pointed in horror as some of the dust started to clear.

"Lilia! get the other students to safety and warn the faculty!" Riddle shouted to the fae nearby. he nodded and rushed through the dust to grab those injured, silver and sebek following quickly. Riddle, ace, deuce, grim, mc, and even Leona gathered and readied themselves as the negative energy settled over the field.

The dust settled and they heard multiple people laughing along with ruggies signature laughter, distorted and echoed through the now emptied playing field. Ace and deuce pale as they saw the incarnations of Ruggies blott separate from his body. Instead of one large monster usually behind him though, there were 3 regular-sized hyenas circling around the hyena boy, all giggling and laughing in an ominous way.

(ART IS NOT MINE! I found the art here! it was too perfect to not use)

"Bucchi, get a hold of yourself. idiot! you're going to get yourself killed!" Leona yelled at the raggedly clothed beastman.

"shishishishishihiihihihe! You think I care about that now?! I'm stronger than you leona. Always has been if you gave up and cried about something not going your way." The other hyenas around him laughed and started to stalk toward the group of students, the broken glass bottles they had for heads seemingly smirking at them.

"Snap out of it Ruggie! this is dangerous!" jack said getting into a fighting ready position.

"Shishishi. Poor little Frosh. It's too late to turn back now. Let's have some fun shall we fellas~" Ruggie cackled before launching a dark attack as the hyenas pounced. As the battle began dark music could be heard floating through the magically charged dust filled air. (song!!)

Ruggies voice echoes around: They say that I'm a nightmare Guess I'll catch you in your dreamsHe appears behind them from the dust: I come out of nowhere! I will haunt you in your sleep

He's now holding ADeuces magical pens: Yeah you should've known I'd never do what I'm told He tosses them behind himself smirking: I'm running in the fast lane Yeah I'm going rogue

The attacking bot monsters laugh and sing: "Here comes trouble Here comes trouble! Ruggie laughs as he dodges and swipes at riddle: I'm out of my cage You should be afraid Ruggie gets hit by one of Leona's spells and wipes at his cheek with a smile: Here comes trouble

Two of the hyenas sing and laugh as they circle: (La la-la la-la la-la la) hahahahaha!

He slinks behind the group before disappearing back into the dust: Catch me in the shadows Creeping around in your head He throws a flurry of spells as the blots all attack: got that bravado He makes a sliting throat motion: Watch me scare you dead

he gets multiple hits hit on Leona causing him to stagger: Yeah you should've known I'd never do what you've told he easily runs out of range as the other's spells dissipate behind him: I'm running in the fast lane Yeah I'm going rogue

Ace and grim are knocked down by the hyenas: Here comes trouble riddle is knocked back as he tries to dodge: Here comes trouble Ace and deuce suddenly walk next to Ruggie: I'm out of my cage He grabs their heads and slams them together, dropping them: You should be afraid

He launches them into the dust: Here comes trouble~ A hyena on his right shaking from laughter: (La la-la la-la la-la la) He takes a step forward: Trouble Hyena on his left shaking its head mockingly: (La la-la la-la la-la la) Ruggie smirks as the others take a step back: Trouble

:He tries to swipe jacks pen: Yeah, yeah, I do it like that he snaps his fingers, jack and grim freeze: I'm always on the attack he falls to the floor and the two follow: Lights out, fade to black the hyenas pounce on the two: Yeah, yeah, I do it like that I'm always on the attack he stumbles and laughs as he's hit again by Leona: Lights out, fade to black He screams as he flings his strongest attack: Here comes trouble! The other hyenas echoed his scream: Here comes trouble!

Hes starting to pant: Here comes trouble he flings more and more spells: I'm out of my cage he laughs with crazed eyes smile stretching:You should be afraid fangs bared as he continues his crazed attacking: Here comes trouble

Riddle and Leona advancing and deflecting his attacks: here comes, here comes Ruggie pulled at his smile in pain as its stuck abnormally large by blot running from both his eyes: Trouble the hyenas as they attack on the downed first years: (La la-la la-la la-la la) here comes, here comes Jack unleashing beast and protecting the others: Trouble Hyenas hit away by jacks beast form: (La la-la la-la la-la la) here comes, here comes Ruggie screams out as he stumbles from jacks final blow: Trouble The hyenas dissipate: (La la-la la-la la-la la) here comes, here comes Just as Ruggie passed out and the music cuts: Trouble-

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