#sodes of his face they did not fucking hold back with that scene. and his expression just twists and he stares at the ceiling saying why the

[dirt-str1der]

I have to go to bed not because its four thirty in the morning but because ryoma started crying and i wasnt equipped to handle hearing him do that shaky little breath uk the sound a guy makes when hes trying to breathe but his chest spasms with a mounting sob right before the fucking waterworks like god im here brother ill be here as long as you dont want to be alone

[recurring-polynya]

Hey an AU request for you:

During Renruki separation what if the roles were reversed. Like if Renji gets adopted (in some rival noble clan) and Rukia is left behind. Or else if Renji is going to be executed instead of Rukia. Want to feel the angst from Rukia's POV.

Let me know if these scenarios are good enough.

Thanks as always ☺️❤️

Hello, yes, I realize this was not precisely what you were asking for, but here is a scene that has been charging me rent in my own head since at least 2019, and it’s close enough and I am using this as an excuse to get it out. Thank you for your indulgence.

The actual role swap in this scenario is what if Renji had gotten Sode no Shirayuki, a zanpakutou who embodies patience and planning and thoughtfulness, and Rukia ended up with Zabimaru, a zanpakutou who just wants to fuck shit up.

Read on ao3 or ff.net (this one felt substantial enough that I made it a standalone and also I finally had an excuse to name a fic after one of my favorite Oh Hellos songs.)

🗡️     💔     💀

The air is heavy and thick in the World of the Living. It is oppressive, as if this very plane has its own reiatsu, as if it intends to oppose their mission. It’s just a thunderstorm gathering, though, a combination of atmospheric pressure and electrical potential.

Kuchiki Renji, Lieutenant of the Sixth Division and Heir to the great and noble Kuchiki Clan would like to finish this up before they are drenched, but he isn’t optimistic.

He stands on the roof of a human house, looking down at a nearly identical residence across the street, although this one bears signage indicating that it is also a neighborhood medical clinic.

Renji cannot feel her, but he doesn’t expect to. When Rukia doesn’t want to be found, she doesn’t get found, end of story. Renji can feel the human though, the human whom Rukia has given her powers. He can’t fathom why, but all of Rukia’s ways are inscrutable, they always have been. From the morning she saved his life from an enraged water vendor to the evening she walked away from the adopted family that gave them both names and a place in the world, Renji has never understood a single thought that entered her thick skull. Even if he can’t understand her, though, she is transparent to him, predictable.

He just needs to draw her out. And that part is easy.

Byakuya says nothing. Renji has explained his logic, and Byakuya is giving him the six feet of rope he needs to hang himself. Byakuya is also inscrutable, yet predictable. Sometimes, Renji wonders how the man managed to live in the same house as Rukia for as long as he did.

“Nii-sama,” Renji says softly. Byakuya does not like being asked for reassurances, but on this point, Renji requires it. “The orders said capture or kill.”

Byakuya waits.

“Shall I strive for the first?”

Byakuya makes a tiny throat-clearing noise. “I have fulfilled my obligation to that girl. I owe her nothing. Do what is necessary.”

Byakuya would never come out and tell Renji to kill Rukia, but the message is clear enough. Despite separating herself from the family thirty years ago, a trial, a jail sentence will be an embarrassment to the Kuchiki, an exhumation of old mistakes. Rukia will always be an inkblot on Byakuya’s conscience. Byakuya has never held this against Renji, which is probably the only sign of affection his adoptive brother has ever shown him.

Renji has done nearly everything Byakuya has ever asked of him. He is an obedient brother, hardworking and respectful. He practices the family sword form, he studies the history of Soul Society, he respects his elders. He has risen in the ranks of the Gotei, he has gained his bankai, he wears the kenseikan, even though they bite into his scalp. But Renji was only adopted into the family for one reason: to ensure Rukia’s compliance, and in that, he failed.

It is time to make up for that.

Renji jumps lightly from one rooftop to the other and over the ridge of the roof. The boy’s window is on the rear side of the house. He drops down onto the windowsill. His Hell Butterfly hovers at shoulder height. “Go on,” he urges it forward, to create a passage through the wall of the house. He hopes his hunch is correct. He does not relish the idea of murdering a young human in his bed.

It is not an issue. A dark shape rips itself from the shadows, but Renji has his zanpakutou from her sheath in an instant. Instead of Zabimaru’s wicked serrations, however, he finds himself blocking the worst shakkahou he’s seen since Byakuya sent him down to Shin’ou to scout out next year’s crop of students. It’s enough to momentarily blind him, though, and he leaps down to the ground to find steadier footing.

This isn’t right. Although Rukia prefers to rely on her sword, it’s not out of her M.O. to use kidou for a sneak attack. But why bother with a distraction when she could have just blown his head off? Rukia’s kidou are rarely elegant and Renji isn’t sure she even knows the chants, but what she has is power. Or rather, what she had.

Renji scans the backyard slowly. The grass at his feet is freezing over in a slowly widening circle. Careful, careful! Sode no Shirayuki sings in his mind.

Suddenly, he feels the crackle of hainawa and he leaps out of the way just in time, flinging an avalanche of ice in the direction of his attacker. Rukia’s kick catches him in mid-air, but he blocks it with a forearm. It doesn’t ring through his bones the way it should, though.

Renji lands on his heels and skids a few feet. Rukia’s toes hit the dirt just a second after. For a moment, their eyes meet. The air is so humid, it’s thick enough to swim in.

“Abarai,” Rukia snarls, baring a sharp canine. “Of course, they would send you.” She snorts. “Scratch that, I bet you volunteered.”

Renji sneers at her, but ignores the dig at his name. “I’m impressed, Rukia. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone botch a patrol mission so thoroughly.” He sheaths his sword.

Rukia barks out a laugh. “What’s this? Your sense of fairness? Gonna try to kill me with your bare hands, then?”

He’d rather not kill her at all. Byakuya will be peeved, but Renji doesn’t like the idea of running through an unarmed woman. “What is this, Rukia? You’ve given a human your full powers, haven’t you? Why?”

“It was an accident,” Rukia mumbles, her eyes darting to the side.

Renji narrows his eyes. “Where did you get that gigai?”

“A friend.”

“There was an intelligence report from the Stealth Force. A Menos showed up, just for a few minutes before it was driven back to Hueco Mundo with a sword wound. I assumed that was your doing, but you don’t seem to have a sword at the moment. Unless the Menos took that rusty piece of--”

“Fuck, Renji, don’t you ever get sick of listening to your own stupid voice?” Rukia spits, and in a second, she is on him, a blur of fists and feet.

Renji didn’t put his sword away because he thought he wouldn’t need it. He put it away because he knew that he would need two hands to deal with Rukia in hand-to-hand, even at 2% of her power, or whatever dregs she has left.

“I’m trying--” he backpedals furious, blocking blow after blow, “--to help you! I realize that your brain has probably atrophied down to the size of a walnut-- ouch! -- but doesn’t any of this seem fishy to you?”

“The only thing fishy is you questioning an order!” Rukia snaps, as Renji narrowly avoids getting his feet swept from under him. “We may not have much for brains in Eleven, but unlike the Sixth, at least we use what we’ve got!”

Suddenly, Renji manages to loop one of his arms under hers and spin her into a half-nelson. Her feet pedal furiously in mid-air. His spare hand presses her wrist against her rib cage to keep her from clawing the skin off his arm, and also to try and support her weight. “Can you breathe?” he makes sure, as he tries to figure out a way he can hold her still with one hand long enough to get a binding on her.

“Yes,” she grunts angrily. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you know you’re gonna be in trouble with Nii-sama if you bring me back alive?” She spits the honorific like venom.

“You’re wrong,” Renji mutters. He hates this. He hates how stupid this is. He hates that after all this time, her stupid arrows still find their mark, every single time. “You’re wrong if you think he’s spent even a second thinking about you since you threw away everything he gave you. You’re trash to him.”

“Is that what I am to you, too?” Rukia asks archly.

“You’re--” Renji starts to say, and then hits the deck as a sword whistles through the air where his neck had been a moment before. He loses his grip on Rukia, and she rolls away, but Renji’s got more immediate problems. He shifts to a crouch, his hand loose on Sode no Shirayuki’s hilt as he scans the shadows for his assailant.

As it happens, said assailant isn’t exactly subtle. “Hey, Rukia, this guy wears the same pajamas as you. Friend of yours?”

It is the boy, the one who buzzes with reiatsu that both is and isn’t Rukia’s. He is a gangling puppy of a human being, all elbows and ears. His hair is an unnatural orange and sticks out from his head as though he has just rolled out of bed. Given the hour, perhaps he has.

“Get out of here, Ichigo, this guy isn’t a joke!” Rukia screams, and Renji realizes that she is genuinely frightened.

“He sure looks like one,” the kid, Ichigo declares, hefting his sword up onto his shoulder. It is clearly a zanpakutou, but it is absurdly large. He can barely lift the thing. “And people say my hair is a dumb color.”

“My name is Kuchiki Renji,” Renji informs him. “Assistant Captain of the Sixth Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. I am here to take Kuchiki Rukia, Sixth Seat of the Eleventh into custody for the crime of transferring her shinigami powers to a human. I do not wish to kill you, human, but if you interfere, I will not hesitate.”

“Wait, what?” Ichigo sputters. “Rukia, I thought your name was Inuzuri? Is this guy your brother? If so, he sure got all the height genes. I am so, so confused.”

Rukia rises to her feet. Her face is pale in the moonlight. A line of blood shines on her forehead, glassy against the black of her tattoos. “He’s my fiance.”

“Your what now?”

Renji snorts. “Former fiance.”

“I don’t recall breaking up with you!” Rukia barks.

Renji wants to laugh. He doesn’t know which is more typical Rukia-- the idea that rejecting his family and not speaking to him for thirty years would somehow not count as a break-up, or that now is somehow an appropriate time to talk about this.

There are a lot of feelings pumping through Renji’s heart, but he freezes them to ice and pushes them away. There is no room for feelings on a battlefield. “I am taking Rukia back to Soul Society. If you do not resist me, I swear to it that no harm will come to her before her trial.” Byakuya wanting Rukia dead is just a feeling, too. The Kuchiki must stand for justice, right? This is a good compromise, Renji rationalizes. I cannot kill her in cold blood in front of a witness, but if they force my hand, things happen. Surely even Byakuya would agree with this line of logic.

Ichigo’s eyes dart to Rukia. “What about after the trial? Is this, like, a thing where you pay a fine, or…?”

“I’ll be executed, most likely,” Rukia replies dryly.

Ichigo’s jaw clenches.

“You’re a valuable asset to the Gotei,” Renji corrects. “Central may be lenient.”

The two strongest young shinigami in their generation, people used to say, when Rukia and Renji entered the Sixth together. His iron nerves tempering her volatility, her fiery passion igniting his cold aloofness. The next Kyouraku and Ukitake. No wonder the Kuchiki plucked them from obscurity.

Renji doesn’t know what people say about them now. Now that he is the sole Heir to the Kuchiki. Now that she fights among the animals of the Eleventh. People’s voices go quiet at his approach. Byakuya says it isn’t wise to listen to gossip in any case.

“Hmmm,” Ichigo shifts his sword to an attack stance. “I don’t like the sounds of those odds. I think maybe I’ll just beat your ass instead.”

“Ichigo, move!” Rukia starts, but Renji has heard the words he needs to hear.

Renji’s favorite parts of the Kuchiki sword form are the quick draw techniques. He is not as fast as Byakuya, but he is very, very fast, and his reach is better. In an instant, he has closed the distance between himself and the boy. Maybe it was a lucky reflex or maybe it was Rukia’s warning, but Ichigo manages to get that huge sword up just in time to avoid having his chest sliced open. Renji’s assault is merciless. If it weren’t for the stupid power limiter, which Renji isn’t used to, he’s sure he would have cracked the boy’s zanpakutou clear in half. Despite her appearance, Sode no Shirayuki is not a delicate sword and Renji swings her with the inevitability of a glacier.

As Ichigo backpedals, his foot catches on a loose paver, and he stumbles. Renji raises his arm, preparing to deliver the killing blow, when suddenly, a knee in his back punches the air from his lungs, and his elbow is jerked forcibly backwards.

“NOW!” Rukia’s voice bellows in Renji’s ear.

The stumble was a feint, because Ichigo is Rukia’s student, and of course she has taught him all her dirty tricks. Renji realizes he has made the mistake of thinking he could beat Rukia, just because she has no powers and no zanpakutou. She still knows him better than anyone, though. She knows his moves and she knows what a rank fool he is. As Ichigo’s sword plunges towards his stomach, Renji flares his reiatsu as best as he can, and hopes Rukia’s pet human isn’t strong enough to pierce it.

But before the blow lands, Ichigo’s eyes widen. He lets out a gurgle and falls sideways.

“Renji,” says Captain Kuchiki. “What is taking so long?”

It seems as though time is standing still, except that the pool of blood surrounding Ichigo’s prone form is growing, growing.

“No,” Rukia murmurs. “No, no, no.” Suddenly, her feet scrabble up Renji’s back, and she launches herself off of his shoulders. “You!!” she screams.

There is nothing she can do to Byakuya. Her hands glow with raw kidou, but she is weak. It is the desperate, useless move of a cornered animal.

Renji knows that animal instincts are useless, which is why he has trained every day to eradicate them. To ignore his fear, to replace his body’s natural reflexes with the kata of his sword form. So even though he knows Rukia’s attack is hopeless, he cannot help but react to an attack against his Clan Head.

Rukia hits the ground next to Ichigo with a dull thump.

Her body is wrapped in the glowing chains of hainawa.

Renji’s hand shakes, his breathing is heavy.

Rukia is screaming filthy obscenities at both of them.

Byakuya regards Renji silently. His eyes linger on Renji's sword, naked in his hand. A different reflex, and there would be two corpses on the ground.

“She should face trial, Nii-sama,” Renji says softly. “If we do not uphold justice, who shall?”

“The law, Renji,” Byakuya corrects him. “We uphold the law.” He jerks his head at the screaming woman on the ground. “Pick her up. Others are coming and you will only become more sentimental if I am forced to kill additional humans.”

Renji kneels and gathers Rukia in his arms. She does not make it easy, probably in hopes that he will toss her over his shoulder instead of this humiliation, but she is the brute, not him. He will not give her the satisfaction.

As Renji narrowly avoids a headbutt, though, he realizes that this is not merely a display of defiance. It is a distraction. “Nii-sama,” he says as he straightens up, “I do not think the human is dead.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Byakuya sighs. “I have severed his hakusui and saketsu. Even if he survives the wound, he will be powerless, and Rukia’s power should return to her.”

Byakuya considers his lieutenant’s full arms for a moment, makes a disgusted face, and then draws his sword to open the senkaimon home himself.

While Byakuya’s attention is turned, Rukia leans into Renji’s, her breath hot on his jaw. “I will kill him for this,” she spits in his ear. “And if you get in my way, I will kill you too.”

“Then we are enemies,” Renji replies quietly, “since I am sworn to protect him.”

The first fat drops of rain begin to fall from the sky.

[simpsonsnight]

Episode #83

WHAT THIS?

Cape Feare Season 5 - Episode 2 | October 7, 1993 One of my all-time favorite episode from childhood! This was definitely my favorite episode up to this point. This is mostly a parody of Marty ScoreSaysHe parody of Cape Fear, which I literally never saw before maybe a year ago (Fun Fact: I have spent most of my life never having seen a single Marty movie. Not on purpose, but there came a point where I realized I somehow managed to never see a single one well into adulthood, and this revelation DID *sorta* make me resistant to seeing any, for no other perverse reason than it was a mildly unique trait I had; I broke my cherry on Goodfellas in the last few years... pretty good!!). I realize watching this now, Sideshow Bob really turns a corner here, officially becoming a revenge-fueled homicidal maniac, intent on murdering Bart just out of pure hatred. The classic era of the show tends to have him go back and forth in the severity of his villany, even appearing reformed at certain points. But this is the Sideshow Bob that we see during the post-classic episodes; he’s almost always cartoonishly homicidal, almost always trying to murder Bart. Even if that’s not what the episode is about, it’s always alluded to as if it’s fall-back position. This episode is pretty funny, but it’s not as funny as I remember. I think I liked how gag-heavy this one is, because in the early 90s I was obsessed with spoof movies. Take the last scene, and if you really wanna go deep, listen to the audio commentary for it on DVD. This was actually the final episode produced for season 4 and held-over. So, reportedly a lot of the gags that wound up in this show were typical of the type of gags that were regularly put in the storyboards and promptly deleted by producers seeking to keep the show grounded. The final scene where Bob performs for Bart’s final request, we see Bart holding a Playbill and a mysterious pair of flesh-colored hands hand Bob a bouquet of flowers from off-camera: two impossibilities that at this point in the show would never have made it. I seem to recall Matt Groening saying that everyone was tired and the more privileged members of the Simpsons staff went home early while the animators went buck wild without anyone to reign them in. Another thing about this show was that it ran short. The couch gag is the give-away, but there are so many gags with limited animation in this that may or may not have been created after the episode’s first record: Lisa receives a pen-pal letter from a third-world country experiencing a coup. The scene is accomplished with voice-over while the camera slowly zooms in on Lisa’s mostly-static, but concerned-looking face. Grandpa rambles on, and it just seems like a lengthened scene with recycled animation. And the gag that might be the most memorable of all: Bob steps on a lot of rakes. This scene goes on forever, and it’s really funny. But it goes on so long that my wife left the room during it and thought I paused the show for her. Anyway, this episode is super funny, and I’ll always love it. But it also makes e think of some moron on twitter who tried to meme the joke where somebody in the court remarks “no one who speaks german could be an evil man” with that screen and quote and adding “ain’t you heard of hitler tho?”, as if the show wasn’t making that joke already. Fucking IDIOT. STUPID. FUCKING STUPID IDIOT BITCH. THE B-SODE:

Goof Troop: "Goof Fellas" Season 1 - Episode 58 | November 25, 1992 Goofy and Pete witness an attempted murder and get put in the witness relocation program! And the title parodies a Marty movie! How about that! Part of me wishes I didn’t limit the B-SODE to cartoons, so I could use that Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode where Will is playing poker with his friends and tells a story about how he and his family were put in the witness relocation program and got tracked down by a scary mobster, only to reveal the whole story was just a gag. The punchline of the show is that jazzy jeff puts on a rubber mask of the scary villain and spooks Will at the end of the episode, which is bullshit because it’s impossible for there to be photographical specificity in a fake story Will was telling. Pissed me off. I guess I found a way to complain about it. Good.