#(Yeah I WAS Also Involved in Making This AU A Thing)

[greatwyrmgold]

Alright, let's wrap this up.

Otome is honestly pretty simple. Make Yoshikado some kind of magic-user instead of a geneticist, and you're basically there. The big question is how to replace her landsuit with something that could plausibly exist in a fantasy setting. Some kind of magical propulsion is probably involved.

Sha-Ming is even easier; he's mostly just a selfish asshole, and that's setting-agnostic. The only sci-fi concept in his character bio is the intellectualized bonobos, and you can replace them with goblins or something without changing anything about Sha-Ming's story. Not even the bit where Sha-Ming's non-human neighbors were casually disposed of for being inconvenient, despite being "really good dudes".

And then there's Shigemichi. There are a bunch of ways you could adapt him, but I kinda want to just make him Shigemichi. He assumes that he's gonna go back in time and become the "Little Grey" that inspires centuries of sci-fi, but he just gets isekai'd.

He hears about some kind of demon king, but nobody thinks he has any chance of beating it. After all, all the heroes from stories sailed on the Argo! Shigemichi was planning to ask Jonas for a ride so he could prove his heroic prowess, and I guess he got his wish.

If you took away the Gray Alien thing, and the video gaming and other tech-specific characterization details, you could probably make a Shigemichi who fits this world. Like, he's a kid who was mauled by some monster, and the process of saving him made him look demonic, but he thinks demons are cool.

But stripped of the cultural context around Grays, and also of character details that don't fit in a computer-free world, is Shigemichi even still Shigemichi? There's a pretty big difference between a fan of classic sci-fi getting to look like a classic sci-fi alien, and a guy who's less afraid of demons than most getting to look like a demon (which might actually exist in this universe).

So yeah. If Setsu's girlfriend succumbs to her urge to draw fantasy-Gnosia-AU fanart, please isekai Shigemichi.

The urge to draw a fantasy AU of gnosia is overwhelming. One like and I'll do it

[archiepelago]

alternate surface au inspired by a few ive seen around on tumblr :3

[burning-thistles-bt]

i have a crackship so crazy you guys would simply be like "those two characters dont even exist near each other even in the context of bt"

[grossdyke]

you know, sometimes i feel like prongsfoot just works better than jegulus, like hold on i’m thinking about it

well. yeah

[nhaneh]

while I never thought Kea to be exclusively into women, I do think think she has a number of hangups specifically when it comes to miqo'te men. It's in large part to do with her discomfort with some of the expectations that traditional Seeker gender roles placed on her, and being reminded of those tends to be awkward at best.

It's like, she has absolutely no problem with miqo'te guys so long as the relationship remains entirely platonic - if their place within her mental found family structure mostly resembles that of a half-brother or a cousin or the like it's all fine. It's when it starts more resembling potential partner or, worse, nunh, that she can end up getting really uncomfortable really quickly.

[bibiana112]

What if I become a hachijo tohya stan account am I allowed to have ryukishis self-insert as my blog theme I'm starting to think I want that one yeah the recluse writer who has won every prize and honor except a basic participation medal mean old witch of theathergoing uhum gimme

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[fatelcved]

we're still dancing on the fence about whether to make chiyo a slayer or kakushi ( or just give her both verses asdgh ), but!! i do kinda like the idea of giving her this old idea i had for an oc i scrapped. it would suit her, considering she prefers to have time to observe and plan, although! i still have to brainstorm a good origin that motivates her to train to the point of creating her own breathing technique. otherwise, i would see her defaulting to water breathing unless influenced by someone to try a different style.

for fun, i'm going to put the proper description i wrote out ages ago below the cut bc i'm proud of it and just wanna share it uvu i'd use it for hyouka if hyouka's style wasn't 110% rushing in confidently

metal breathing is a style derived from flame breathing that mimics liquid metal and blacksmithing and replicates it with the user’s movements, techniques, and abilities. most techniques utilize defensive stances and WAKI GAMAE, a stance that hides the length of their sword from their opponent. this allows them to not only minimize where their opponent may strike but also allows the element of surprise as they switch unexpectedly to a new stance. metal breathing allows the user to “ hammer out ” a plan after observing their opponent’s attack patterns and reaction times. users of metal breathing often visualize liquid metal and flames as they perform these techniques.

this breathing style was created by kiyabu tamako after deciding flame breathing was too aggressive for her. it currently has six forms, though more may be created.

form one: hidden hammer – the user swings their blade downwards in an arc. 

form two: reverse hammer – the user swings their blade upwards in an arc.

form three: patient chisel – the user goes on the defensive, exclusively blocking while they take their time observing their opponent’s offense; the user strikes once they clearly see the openings in their opponent’s attacks.

form four: molten dance – the user bends and weaves their sword and body around their opponent, evading blows while delivering their own. this form resembles a dance as the user’s movements do not push against their opponents but rather flow around them. their blades do not meet.

form five: relentless smelting – the user performs a quick series of slashes meant to wear down the target, creating an opening, or to take out multiple opponents at once.

form six: blazing forge – the user rushes forward at high speeds, keeping their sword hidden from view until the last second when they deliver a killing blow.

[interestingturnofthetables]

I’m about to go off about this in the tags. I didn’t know there was a tag limit until it got out of hand. Very intriguing idea dude!

Stan Pines once fantasized about traveling the world on boat with his brother.

But ever since that brother died to a rogue wave while the two were swimming at the beach, he's had a fear of the ocean and never intends to set foot on a boat.

Fiddleford McGucket is pursuing his hobby of making personal computers, after having a normal college life, getting married, and having a kid. He has it good.

The town of Gravity Falls lives cult-free, and get to keep their memories of all the mysterious happenings. Bill Cipher was never summoned.

Stan is on the run from the law and people he's crossed with his scams. One night, he hears a strange noise from his closet. He grabs a baseball bat and opens it, and it's almost like looking in a mirror. Almost, because the person staring back has glasses, a cleft chin, and looks like he's been through hell, among other universes.

The mysterious man says, "Stanley?"

"How the hell do you know my name?" Stan raises the bat, ready to beat up this uncanny stranger who magically appeared in his closet.

Then he spots his hands.

Six fingers.

"I must be high out of my mind..."

(Or: AU where Ford died as a kid and then at some point in the portal he encounters a universe where he doesn't have to worry about meeting his alternate self. As long as he can convince his brother he's real.)

[arolesbianism]

I find it so funny just how long I'd have to talk to get to a single non original character in the random card au if I explained the worldbuilding in chronological order. I'm pretty sure the first recognizable characters would be og Tae and Rei and even then there's a pretty big span of time where they could have possibly existed so I could theoretically go through a Lot before getting to them even without all of the finer details of kingdom worldbuilding

[lukosei]

Rewatching death note after TEN YEARS with some friends and we are horribly susceptible to theorizing animation student au headcanons for like every piece of media that has our attention so here’s their meet the artists with some stats :3 ridiculously self-indulgent + catered to our own personal experiences of being in cartoon school. How fleshed out is this??? Not very. But it’s fun (tried drawing them kinda sorta how they’d maybe draw if they were actually like people) (I’d love to put the music they listen to and movies they like but tbh idk light especially does not strike me as someone who listens to music for fun so they’re a bit minimal). Also thing to note I know the personality-database site says light is an entj instead of i which while it makes sense we motioned that he’s a bit more meticulous and while of course he can do social situations he doesn’t seek them out per se nor get fulfilment from them BUT BOTH TYPES ARE STILL GOOD

Now you may be asking how does the actual plot of death note translate into this. Well you see they are in their 3rd year ryuk is light’s goth alt roommate who shows him this cool site called twitter dot com and light IMMEDIATELY starts anonymously cyberbullying people notably school peers and it gets so bad the faculty has to get involved and they also need to bring in this mysterious transfer student from England who gets put into the same 3rd year film group as light to further investigate suspicions and also has a twitter handle/acc that has been actively challenging light’s + has like a gazillion followers. Also yeah they fall in love and stuff

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance

contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !

author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎

satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.

that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.

gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!

gojoslittleslut: notice me pls

"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"

you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.

gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~

satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.

suguru-geto: he has a gf ...

gojoslittleslut: yeah

gojoslittleslut: me

you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 

satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.

eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.

toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day

inumaki: we know gtfo

gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?

toji-fushiguro: bet

"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 

satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).

your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"

satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.

he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.

satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"

"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.

"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."

[cakes-isat-blog]

OW??????

"....look, I know you don't believe me. But they want to meet you officially?" You say.

Loop's eyes crinkle in some kind of skepticism. "Do they, now?"

You nod.

A half-laugh, fake-sounding. "And what would that entail, exactly?"

You frown a little. "Well. I mean, they can control my body? So they can talk for me? Say hi?"

You hear Mira enthusiastically volunteer, which you expected to be honest. She was probably the best one of them for Loop to meet first. She was polite and non-threatening in most circumstances.

Loop looks you over. "Honestly. I don't really see the point. I don't really need to meet any of them, it's not like they matter to this situation." But they raise their hands in surrender, anyway. "But if it gets you to drop this, I'll humor you, Stardust. Send them in, or whatever!"

The more time that passes, the more frustrated you get with their continued disregard and disdain for your family. It hurts. It hurt before they hitched a ride in your brain, and it surely hurts more now, that they're all here to hear them say it.

Nonetheless, you pass the reigns to Mira.

It feels so weird, every time they do this. You have to fight the impulse to take back control of your limbs, because muscle memory and common sense dictate that your limbs moving on their own was not a good thing in the slightest. But the more you let them do it, the more used to the sensation you become. The easier it becomes to just....let go.

And still. When your mouth opens, your voice but her diction, it still feels alien. "Hello!" She greets. "I'm Mirabelle, but you...kn-know that already. Or maybe you don't, they didn't tell you who was coming out to greet you. I, I wanted to thank you, for being there for Siffrin when we weren't. We were so scared when we learned what he was going through. If he'd been alone....I-I don't even want to think about it."

She extends your hand towards them, and you feel your mouth curve up in a smile. "So it's very nice to meet you! We'd be honored to get to know you as well as they do!"

Loop's eyes dart, between your face and your outstretched hand, but they don't move a muscle. They don't move for a long, long while, even. Completely silent, and stone-faced.

And then they steeple their hands, something dark in their expression. Darker than you'd ever seen on them, really. "I've changed my mind, Stardust! I have absolutely no interest in continuing to play this game with you!"

Mira speaks for you again. "I-it's not a game, we're really here-"

"Really, stop being deluded, Stardust! I mean it! I'm not going to keep encouraging this behavior in you! I've already done it enough, clearly!" Their eyes widen a little. Too wide.

On reflex you steal back control of your body, shoving Mira back into the back. Something about Loop's expression frightens you. Something in it like mania, or a hysterical smile. You aren't sure how you can even tell without a mouth to judge. You just...can.

"Loop-"

"I'm only going to say this one more time, alright? So commit it to memory, since you've clearly got enough space in that head of yours to fabricate four whole other personalities~"

Like every other helpful tip message they give, the words superimpose themselves into your mind. You feel your family flinch from the sheer volume of them.

[Every time you talk to me about the family in your head, I will not give you any aid for the rest of that loop! I'm not getting paid for this, so I'd appreciate you taking my time seriously!]

You

breathe in.

You breathe out. "Fine. I understand." You stand from the root, and walk away without another word.

Loop huffs. You ignore them.

You've got four other people helping you figure this out, anyway.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: it's the night of what's supposed to be your first date with dazai, but of course, like all things involving dazai osamu, nothing goes right. you should have expected it... but maybe not all is ruined.

(wordcount: 6.9k; fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw but steamy make out sesh. reader slaps dazai. this one is a bit of a whirllwind, it is purposely fast-paced and a bit choppy. unedited.)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: HAPPY FRIDAY <333 enjoy a bit of a funner pmreader au fic because beast au is coming soon <3 bonus points if any of you can figure out the importance of the next mission that's mentioned at dinner and at the end <333

“I mean, I should’ve known he was going to pussy out, right?’ you say with a scoff as you lean back in your seat, phone pressed to your ear as you look over the Yokohama skyline. “It’s just like him. It was like pulling teeth to even get him to admit there’s something between us. He avoided me for weeks after we talked things out and-”

“Wait, wait, hold on. I thought things were good between you guys now?” Chuuya asks, baffled. You can hear some commotion happening in the background, and what seems like an explosion, your eyebrows shoot up, wondering where he is. “He said he was going to meet you.”

“Where are you?” you ask confused. “I thought you didn’t have a mission today.”

“I didn’t,” Chuuya spits out, voice rising in irritation. “I took over shitty Dazai’s so he could go get ready to meet you, and you’re telling me he’s not there? I’ll fucking kill him.”

You let out a sharp puff of air, disappointed but not entirely surprised that Dazai used you as an excuse to dodge a mission. Things have been better between the two of you—he doesn’t avoid you anymore, in fact, he usually seeks you out on his own like he used to before your friendship was wrecked by your fling with that civilian, but you haven’t slept with each other since that night two weeks ago. And that’s fine, you don’t only want Dazai for sex, but it just feels like you guys are back to being friends, and that’s also fine, but this was supposed to be your next step at maybe being more than friends, so how are you supposed to feel when he bails?

You should’ve expected it, you think blandly, letting out another sigh as you shake your head. Dealing with Dazai is like trying to pull out an anchor that’s buried feet under the ocean floor with your bare hands—he doesn’t like changes from the norm, and he especially doesn’t like having to confront his own emotions, you’ve known that since the day you’ve met him. You thought you made enough progress the night that you slept together for it to be a non-issue, but clearly, you were wrong. 

Sleeping together is evidently less emotionally taxing for him than going out to dinner with you, which is crazy when you consider just how that night had started. 

“You okay?” Chuuya asks quietly. “I can come meet you there, I’ll be done here in a few.”

You roll your eyes with a fond smile. “I don’t need a pity date because Dazai Osamu stood me up, Chuuya.”

“Fuck you, it’s not a pity date,” Chuuya snaps, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement when you hear a sudden shout from the other line and a few curses from him. “Look, just let me know, yeah? We can chill and get takeout too.” 

“Chuuya, go handle your mission. I’ll be fine,” you say, still smiling lightly as you take a sip of your wine. You’re on your second glass already—Dazai was supposed to be here half an hour ago. “I’ll text you.”

“You better,” he warns, and you hear him let out a litany of frustrated curses as he starts shouting at someone with him before you finally hang up.

You let out another heavy sigh, the small smile fading from your lips as you look down at the red tablecloth, lowering your glass as you swallow thickly. You can feel several gazes on you—this is a Mafia establishment, and your favorite restaurant to wine and dine Port Mafia associates at, most of the staff knows you by name. The last thing you want is their pity because you were very clearly stood up by someone, even if they don’t know who it is that had the nerve. 

Just as you’re about to rise to your feet and leave, you notice the hostess’s eyes widen as she turns to acknowledge someone entering the restaurant, rushing back over to the podium to greet the newcomer. She bows too deeply for it to be a regular customer, but you don’t dare to get your hopes up, stiffening as you wait to see who arrived. You tell yourself that it must be some government official taking his wife out, or maybe a businessman and his colleagues going out after a long day of work because you don’t want to be disappointed when an unfamiliar man turns the corner.

Still, you take in a deep breath and can’t help the way your throat spasms when you realize the newcomer is coming around the corner, and you certainly can’t help the way you straighten. The rest of the staff catches sight of them before you can, and the way they all have a visible reaction to the person, the way their gaze turns to you.

You know it’s him before he turns the corner, but your heart races still when he comes into view.

He’s not wearing his typical waistcoat and slacks—or well, he is, but it’s a new set. You can tell because you can’t see the darker splotches on his waistcoat from the blood the dry-cleaner hadn’t been able to get out from his last mission. And he’s not wearing his black trench coat; rather, he’s wearing an expensive suit jacket you’d never seen before. Even during events, he would usually just shed his jacket, he never really dressed up special like you and Chuuya would. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him in an actual suit jacket like this.

More importantly, he has a bouquet of roses in hand, and the expression on his face is nothing like the aloofness you’re used to him wearing in public. He looks unsure, almost hesitant as he looks around trying to figure out where you’re sitting, and he physically falters when he catches sight of you sitting at the window already looking in his direction.

You shift your seat slightly so you can face him, crossing one leg over the other and tilting your head to the side. His throat visibly bobs as his gaze tracks down to the way your red dress rides up your thighs, and you can’t help the amusement that bubbles in your chest when he has to physically inhale to get ahold of himself before making his way over to you.

When he gets close to you, you can feel almost all of the eyes in the room pinned on the two of you. You can’t exactly blame them—it’s not everyday that the Port Mafia’s most notorious executive is seen outside of the darkness he usually lurks in. Most of those who are seemingly aware of who Dazai is look nervous. You can’t blame them for that either, as far as rumors go, it’s pretty well known that death clings to Dazai Osamu in a similar fashion that shadows cling to a dying light—unyielding, inevitable, and always just a step behind.

“You’re late,” you say coolly, grateful that your voice doesn’t betray the way your heart is racing. 

Dazai doesn’t respond right away. He looks down at the bouquet in his hands, and then back up at you. The way he shifts awkwardly on his feet is almost endearing, and the way his brows furrow as he tries to decide what to say almost makes you soften up.

After what feels like an eternity, he says, “I wasn’t sure which flowers to get.”

“You didn’t have to get me flowers,” you reply quietly, standing up to take them from him. 

They’re pretty. You’re used to getting flowers—Mori makes sure there’s a fresh bouquet on your desk every Monday, and these ones are definitely not of the same quality Mori usually gets you. They’re expensive for sure, but you can see the way the edges of the petals are just barely wrinkled from a day in a storefront. Yet somehow, these feel more special than any of Mori’s bouquets ever have.

“Odasaku said that I should,” Dazai replies after a moment.

Any fondness that might’ve been swelling in your chest is crushed in an instant.

“You got me flowers because Oda said you should?” you ask flatly, looking up at him with a visibly displeased expression. 

You can see confusion fly across Dazai’s face at your sudden change in demeanor, mind racing as he tries to figure out what he said wrong. After a few moments, he seems to realize from the way his eye widens slightly.

“He only suggested it,” he says, voice low as he looks down at you through his lashes. Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how close you’re standing to him as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He dips his head a little more. “I got you them because I wanted to get you them.”

You swallow thickly, lashes fluttering as you avert your eyes to the side. “Well, I guess that’s fine then,” you reply primly, clearing your throat as you meet his gaze again, mouth drying when you see the way his lips curl up into a slow smirk, dark eye glittering with amusement.

“Yeah?” he drawls. “As long as it’s fine with you, then.”

You scoff at him and turn your head away pointedly. “Would you sit down? I’ve already been waiting for over a half hour.”

He hums in agreement, but before he moves to sit down, he leans down to brush his lips against the corner of yours. Your throat tightens, and you pretend to not notice the pink that dusts his visible cheek as he swiftly turns to take his seat.

When the two of you take your seat, the silence between you is abundantly awkward. You press your lips together, thrumming your fingers against the red cloth. You’re usually good at making conversation—it’s quite literally what you’ve been trained to do—yet no words find their way to you with Dazai sitting across from you.

“I-”

“Y-”

Both of you go silent at the same time, and both of you say, “Go ahead,” at the same time. You pointedly raise your eyebrows, beckoning him to continue, and you smile curiously when you see how his gaze drops to the table for a moment.

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. “Your dress… I haven’t seen you…”

“I always wear dresses to events,” you tell him with a half-smile to hide that you’re flustered by the compliments. “You see me in them all the time.”

He inhales and then shakes his head, you watch his gaze track down suspiciously low for a split second, and then down to the table to where he’d seen your dress ride up your thighs, and the smile on your lips becomes a little more mischievous.

“Oh, I see,” you say, relishing in the way his cheeks go from dusting pink to flaming red as he pointedly looks away from you. “I think you’d like more what I have on beneath it.”

Dazai chokes, and then tries to mask it with a cough. You wonder if you pushed too far, the two of you haven’t done anything physically since the first time you slept together. Not even kiss. But from the way his pupil is blown wide as his gaze focuses back on you, you think your words have their intended effect.

Before he can reply, someone clears their throat from next to your table. You turn your head to the side, mortified when you realize that your waiter is standing there waiting to take your order.

“Hime, Dazai-sama,” he greets, bowing low with bright red cheeks. “I apologize if I interrupted.”

Dazai’s expression goes cold at the arrival of a stranger, but you direct an uneasy smile toward the man as you say, “Shinohara-san, good evening… I hope you didn’t hear anything… unsavory.”

“Of course not, hime,” he agrees, even though you know it’s a blatant lie. “Are you ready to order?”

Before Dazai can disagree, you nod and pointedly ignore the offended look he shoots your way. “It’s pretty busy tonight, isn’t it?” you say curiously as you look around. There’s double… triple the amount of people that are usually here. “I hope you’re not too overrun with work.”

Shinohara lets out a huff of laughter. “It was so quiet until an hour ago,” he agrees. “We had to open up the other room because people just kept pouring in at five. We’re managing though, don’t worry.”

You order for both you and Dazai. You figure that he could order for himself, but he hardly ever treats himself out to eat. He’s more prone to hoarding cans of crab and ordering takeout on your card, so you’d rather just order something you know he’d like than wait for him to sort through each and every item on the menu before he settles on what you know he’s going to get anyway.

Dazai takes advantage of you placing the order to sit there and glower at the man who is only trying to do his job—probably the only one of the staff that had the balls to approach your table with Dazai Osamu sitting across from you. As soon as he leaves, you settle a flat expression on Dazai.

“He’s just doing his job, Dazai,” you say, unamused. “Won’t you leave him be?” 

Dazai gives you an offended look. “I didn’t even do anything,” he protests.

“You were glaring at him.”

“That’s just my face.”

“Right,” you say sarcastically. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably cute,” he corrects with a sweet smile.

“Hah!” you laugh in his face. “You wish.”

“I don’t need to wish, it’s true,” Dazai says confidently, leaning back in his seat with a smug grin. “You think I’m the cutest. You love me.”

You roll your eyes. “At least you have confidence.”

“What does that mean?” 

An easy smile settles on your lips as the awkward silence between the two of you finally shatters. You look down at the table, a fond feeling swelling in your chest as you finally come to terms with the fact that Dazai did come, and a lump forming in your throat as your gaze tracks back over to the flowers he gave you, wondering if this all means he’s finally ready to officially take that next step with you.

And if it does mean he’s ready to take the next step, is he going to feel the same way when the sun rises tomorrow? You can never tell with him. He’s fickle and capricious, and it’s obscenely frustrating trying to deal with his back-and-forth.

“I heard you have a mission in Kyoto at the end of the week,” Dazai says quietly after a few moments, an unreadable expression on his face as you look back up at him. “You’ll be there for a bit.”

You hum in response, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah,” you agree, and then you let out a sigh. “Ihara Saikaku has made… a lot of progress in undoing all the work I did back in Kyoto before coming here. More than we realized until two of our warehouses up there were blown up. I don’t think I’ll be there long—probably a week.”

Dazai’s lips curl down into a frown at your words. “Who’s all going with you?” 

“Itou,” you answer, referring to your partner, rolling your eyes at the way a distasteful expression immediately crosses Dazai’s face. “Some of our subordinates. It’s a small group, we don’t want to bring too much attention before we go there..”

“I can come,” Dazai offers, and it makes your chest flutter because Dazai never offers to take on extra work unless you’re involved. Hirotsu pointed it out to you over a year ago, but you never really took notice of it until recently. Dazai notices the small smile unconsciously curling at your lips and takes offense to it. “What? Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not,” you say quietly. “I just…”

You care about him a lot—more and more every single day, and it scares you, because you never know which days he’ll choose to stay, and which he’ll run away. So you don’t voice it, instead you tilt your head to the side and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I can handle the mission,” you tell him.

Dazai huffs. “I know you can,” he says, raising his chin, looking a bit put out by your comment. “Doesn’t mean you don’t want company.”

My company, you hear the unspoken word as he frowns and looks away and your expression softens. 

“Don’t you have a mission with Chuuya this weekend?” you remind him dryly, smile becoming a bit more amused when he obnoxiously rolls his eye and gives you a judgmental look.

“He can handle it on his own,” he mutters bitterly. “Whatever. Fine. You don’t want my help clearly. You don’t need to say it, I can take the hint.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you say fondly, resting your chin on your hand as you observe him. He’s clearly flustered by your stare, immediately looking down at the table. “I leave on Friday, it won’t be long.”

Dazai still doesn’t look pleased. 

“Friday is movie night,” he says, clearly bothered by the prospect of missing it. Dazai is a creature of habit—much like how he didn’t want to change his friendship with you by taking the next step in your relationship, he doesn’t like when his weekly schedule is disrupted, and you know he looks forward to Fridays with you.

“We can go to the arcade on Thursday.” you compromise.

Dazai lights up. “You hate the arcade,” he says suspiciously.

“I hate losing to you at the arcade,” you tell him, scowling at him briefly when he gives you a smug smile. “I’ll suffer through it just this once.”

You do hate losing to him, but you also like watching how excited he gets when he wins games. You would usually join him and Chuuya when they went because you could just watch and not get dragged into their dumb competitions. They’d get so wound up with arguing with each other that they’d genuinely forget you were there.

“Don’t invite Chuuya,” Dazai says with a frown after a few moments.

“You’re so mean to him,” you say absently, thanking Shinohara as he returns with the appetizers that you ordered. “He likes going to the arcade with you.”

Dazai sneers. “Until he loses every single game,” he says haughtily. “We don’t invite him to movie night, so we’re not inviting him to game night.”

“Sometimes we invite him to movie night,” you argue with a frown.

“Sometimes you invite him to movie night,” Dazai corrects, voice dripping with disdain. “You taint our movie nights. Not me.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you repeat, lips curling up into another smile. “He wanted to do something with me before I left too. Why not-”

“No,” Dazai says, voice pitched in complaint. He draws several eyes onto the two of you, which he quite quickly takes care of with a vicious look in their direction. His expression smooths out before he turns a frown back onto you. “No.”

“Fine, I’ll do something with him earlier in the da-”

“No,” he says, even more loudly this time, but the other patrons of the restaurant know better than to look over now, keeping their gazes trained on their meals or their partners. “Fine. He can come to the arcade. We can do something else earlier in the day.”

Your lips curl up into another amused smile, tilting your head to the ideas your eyes settle back on his face. “Oh yeah?” you drawl, “and what do you want to do earlier in the day?”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is unrepentant. “I could think of a few things,” he murmurs, gaze dipping down for a moment before settling back on your face.

“Pervert,” you insult, but your tone stays light.

“You’re the pervert,” Dazai accuses, dark eye glittering playfully as he reaches for a piece of calamari curiously, eyeing it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. You watch his expression light up before he reaches for another quickly—you’re not the biggest fan of it, but you figured he would like it. “I was talking about going to the movies. What were you talking about?”

“Riiiiight,” you say dryly, leaning back. “What movie do you want to see?”

“Hmm,” Dazai hums, pressing his finger to his mouth as he tries to think of a movie he wants to go see, but you find your attention drawn behind him to where the hostess is whispering with the head of staff, looking at something behind you.

Dazai is rambling about some animated movie that’s about to leave theaters—something about a robot, you’re not really listening because you’re too busy trying to figure out what they’re so focused on. Something about it has you on edge. You follow their gaze to a party of three sitting at a nearby window close to the event room; it isn’t anything too suspicious, you think, until one of them looks in your direction and instantly looks away.

“Helloooo,” Dazai demands your attention, irritated. “Why did you ask if you weren’t going to listen to me?” 

“It really is busy today, isn’t it?” you ask quietly, and Dazai’s expression immediately clears, lips curling down and brows furrowing as his sharp gaze circles the room. You noticed it earlier when Shinohara came over, but you didn’t think anything of it. You should have. “It’s not usually this busy, especially during the week.”

“Yeah?” Dazai murmurs, now brought aware of the oddity, you can see the thoughts racing behind his dark eyes, trying to figure out what caused it. “Weird.”

“Weird,” you agree, watching as the hostess shifts on her feet nervously and then pointedly meets your eyes. Something is not right, and you have a very bad feeling about it—the people who’d been seated in the event room are becoming restless. You can see it in the way they’re shifting in their seats and looking around quickly. Dazai realizes too from the way his expression closes off and his hands tense. “I-”

Dazai tosses you a smile that’s so disarming that you almost don’t register what he says to you next. “When I tap the table twice, get under the table and crawl to my side.”

You unlock your phone and quickly send a text to Chuuya with your location and a ‘help’—no explanation, because the uncertainty and anxiety will make him get here faster. By the time you hit send, Dazai is looking at you again. His lips curl up into a teasing smile that tells you he’s about to tap the table; he raises his eyes at you as if asking if you're ready, and you raise yours right back at him in response.

You see a rush of movement from the corner of your eye at the same time as Dazai’s fingers hit the table twice. You drop to the ground at the same time as the first gunshot rings from somewhere behind you. Dazai is shoving the table over onto its side and hitting the ground beside you; he has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh as his shoulder knocks against yours.

As the screams of the regular patrons of the restaurant start resounding through the air, he leans in with a wild grin and says, “That was close. Almost took off my ear.”

You’re not quite as amused when your gaze snaps over to him and you see the blood staining the bandages that cover the right side of his face. Your eyes widen and you gasp, “You-”

“It only grazed me,” he tells you, and then nods over in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s get out through the employee entrance while everyone is running around panicking.”

“Right,” you say quietly, and then your lips curl up into a tight smile. Of course this is how your first official date with Dazai goes—you almost wonder if it’s a sign from the gods telling you that this will never work. To quit before you’re in too deep, as if you aren’t already. “We just can’t have one night of peace, can we?”

“I was really looking forward to those crab legs,” Dazai sighs dramatically, throwing his head back. “You think it’s the feds?”

“No way,” you say. “It’s another organization, I just don’t know who the hell is bold enough to pull something like this off in our city.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Dazai says lazily, and then motions to the kitchen. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t give you much time to react; your body lurches as he grabs your wrist and hauls you up to your feet, pushing you ahead of him to get you moving in the direction of the kitchen. You stumble over your heels and glare at him from the corner of your eye, but he only tosses you another breathless smile in return, clearly having the time of his life.

“You’re ridiculous,” you snap at him, not quite enjoying having your night ruined like he seemingly is. “You could at least pretend to be bothered.”

“I’m so bothered to have my night ruined with my sweet hime,” Dazai says with another wide smile as he dances ahead of you to push open the door to the kitchen and drag you in there with him.

You can hear shouts coming from behind you and another barrage of gunshots, and you can’t help but mourn because of course this had to happen here at one of your favorite places to go out to eat. You won’t be able to come back for ages now because of this—you’re going to have to figure out if they were involved with this first, but even if they weren’t, this is going to be a hotspot that the feds will be watching for months. One of the cooks directs the two of you to the staircase in the back just as the door you entered through to get into the kitchen slams open.

You try to get a look at the people chasing you, but Dazai doesn’t give you a chance, yanking you into the stairwell to start making a break for the exit of the building. You grimace at the thought of having to run down fifteen flights of stairs, your feet aching just at the thought of it. 

“We’ll never get to the bottom before they catch up. I’m in heels,” you say as the two of you get down the first flight only to hear the doors you just came out of slam open, signalling that they’re already giving chase.

“Take them off,” Dazai says easily. He still has a shit eating grin on his face and you have half a mind to slap it off him. You think he’s enjoying running for his life more than he was enjoying dinner with you.

“I’d rather be shot.”

“Then we’ll just out smart them,” Dazai tells you, wagging his fingers obnoxiously in your direction. You think he tosses you a wink before he keeps dragging you along, fingers tight around your wrist. 

You grimace when a bullet flies a bit too close to your head, stumbling as you skip over a step to the middle landing between the eleventh and tenth floors. The people chasing you are Japanese—you can hear them shouting at one another as they try to catch up to the two of you, but they’re not from the area, you can tell from the accent, so they can’t be from one of the Yakuza syndicates.

Then who?

Shikibu or Ihara’s men? Kawabata’s?

Your mind races for an answer, but you’re startled out of your thoughts when you and Dazai reach the tenth floor and he kicks open the door to the hallway loudly. You shoot him a wide-eyed look, but he doesn’t drag you into the hallway, instead he yanks open what looks like a small maintenance closet and pulls you inside of it, pullingshutting the door shut quietly.

“What-” you start to say, but you can’t finish your question because Dazai is backing you into the wall, he pins one of your wrists right up next to your head and his other hand drops to your hip as he presses his body flush to yours

Oh, you think absently, all thoughts slipping from your mind when he presses his lips to yours. They’re chapped and taste faintly of the garlic on the calamari he’d been snacking on combined with the blood that has dripped down his face to his lips—you don’t think you should like the taste of it, but your hand comes up to cup his cheek and you find your lips parting as you deepen the kiss.

He lets out a low groan into your mouth, and you know that this is not the time for this. The people chasing you could walk into the closet any moment and riddle both of you with dozens of holes, but you’re two glasses of wine in, high on adrenaline, and this is the first time Dazai has kissed you since the night the two of you slept together—his lips are more intoxicating than any type of liquor or drug.

“We shouldn’t-” you start to whisper when you pull away for air, but your words fail you when he immediately turns his attention to your jaw, trailing his lips halfway down your neck. “What’s gotten into you?”

Your breath catches when you feel his lips curl up against your skin. He nips your neck and slides his hand down from your hip to your thigh, slipping his fingers below the tight red fabric of your dress to hike your thigh up around his waist so he can roll his hips against yours. Your breath hitches, head falling back against the wall as Dazai continues to kiss down your neck, tongue darting out to swipe at your collarbone.

“You are so…” you breathe out.

“Sexy? Arousing? Tempting?” Dazai offers, lifting his head to look down at you, eye darker than usual, pupil blown wide as he gives you a lazy smile and waits for your response.

“Unbelievable,” you finish, shaking your head. “I never know what to expect with you.”

“That means you’ll never get bored of me,” he says with a grin. “That’s a good thing.”

“It’s something alright,” you agree, noticing the way his smile falters at your answer. “I’d never get bored of you regardless, Dazai. I just wish…”

You don’t finish the sentence, not wanting to send him running when you’re already in such a precarious situation. Instead, you shake your head and look away with a frown. 

“You wish what?’ Dazai asks quietly. “Tell me.”

“I didn’t think you were going to come today,” you admit after a moment, deciding to just come out with it. His lips part at your words, suddenly looking unsure. “I just… sometimes I still don’t know where we stand. It’s hard.”

“You don’t know where we stand?” Dazai has the nerve to sound amused, but there’s an oddly vulnerable look in his gaze as he looks down at you. He brings the hand he still has pinned to the wall next to your head to his chest so that your palm is flat against his heart. “I thought I made it clear that night. I’m yours.”

Your breath catches again, heart racing as you look up at him and ask quietly, “You’re mine?”

“I’m yours,” he repeats, lifting your hand from his chest to press his lips against your palm and then your wrist. You cup his cheek, wiping away the blood that’s tricked down the right side of his face. “Heart, body, and soul. I’m yours.”

He looks like he didn’t mean to say all of that from the way his eye suddenly widens, but the damage is done and you are down for the count. Your entire world is shaken by the words that you never thought you’d hear him say out loud. Luckily, he’s saved by the chaos happening right outside of the closet the two of you are hiding in. The shouting draws close as they get down to the tenth floor, trying to figure out where the two of you went.

He presses his hand over your mouth and backs you against the wall again, trying to hide in the shadows of the small room just in case they decide to take a peek inside of the closet. After what feels like an eternity, they seem to go down the hall of the tenth floor looking for you guys. 

“That’s why you kicked the door,” you realize and he gives you a smug grin. “Dazai…”

Dazai can seemingly tell that you’re about to go back to the conversation the two of you’d been having because he winces and croaks out, “No more talking, please. This has been a lot for me in one day, y’know.”

“Okay,” you agree with a small smile. When he finally steps away from you, you reach out for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. “Let’s get out of here then.”

The worst part about getting down to the ground floor is the fact that your feet are killing you, but you’re too stubborn to take your heels off. The exit leads into an alley next to the building, and you sigh as the door shuts behind you, reaching for your phone to see if Chuuya or the Black Lizards are anywhere nearby, not wanting to go out anywhere in the open when there could be snipers waiting in case the two of you managed to escape the hit squad.

“I-” you start to say, looking up at Dazai. He turns to look at you, but his eye widens as his gaze focuses on something behind you. “What are you…?”

You yelp when Dazai reaches out to grab your wrist. He yanks you behind him, and as you crane your neck around to see what’s going on, your breath catches when you realize that they had someone waiting outside. His gun is trained in your direction and Dazai is swinging you around so that he’s the one that will take the bullets, using his body as a shield to protect you. Your lips part in a silent cry of his name when you realize what he’s doing, trying to stop him, but you know you won’t be fast enough. 

It all happens too fast—too slow—you don’t even know really; you can see it all happen but you can’t react. You’re watching the man’s finger curl around the trigger, you’re watching Dazai stiffen as he braces himself for the impact, eyes locked with yours and grip on your wrist tightening, and you’re choking over a gasp, panic flooding your blood and fogging your brain as you realize what’s about to happen.

It doesn’t happen though—the ground shakes violently as a familiar figure drops from the sky in-between the two of you and the gunman. The gasp you choked over turns into a shaky sigh of relief when you realize that Chuuya arrived. 

He turns a glare onto the two of you, the Tainted Sorrow emanating around his body as he stops the barrage of bullets midair. He spits, “You two-”

“Late as always,” Dazai jeers, but you can see the way his shoulders visibly relax and you can hear the tremor of relief just barely audible in his tone. The tight grip on your wrist eases, but instead of pulling away, his hand slips down so he can entwine his fingers loosely with yours again. “But what else should I expect from a slug?” 

Chuuya snarls at Dazai, but before he can say anything else, his attention is drawn back to the man fumbling to reload his gun. You have half a mind to tell Chuuya to leave him alive, but your focus is pulled back to Dazai and the panic and fear that had been flooding you quickly shifts into anger.

You reach out to grab him by the tie to yank him closer to you, his eye widens and his eyebrows shoot up teasingly, but you’re not having it. You lift your free hand and before you can even consider what you’re doing, you slap him hard. Dazai draws back, cheek pink in the shape of your hand and lips parted in shock.

“Ouch,” he says flatly. “That’s what I get for saving your life?” 

“Don’t ever do that again,” you spit at him angrily, knuckles tight around his black tie as you drag him closer. “Ever. What were you thinking throwing yourself in front of the gun like that? Are you insane?”

Something mirthful flickers across his face as he looks down at you, dark eye lidded and lips pulled flat. His voice is colder now as he asks, “You don’t like it, do you? Funny.” 

“What?” you breathe out, confused and taken aback by the comment, even more so when he only averts his gaze and shakes his head. “What are you even talking ab-”

“Yo, come here,” Chuuya says abruptly. You give Dazai one last concerned look before trailing over to Chuuya, who’s kneeling over the corpse of the man that tried to kill you and Dazai. He’s pointing at a tattoo on the man’s forearm of a castle floating in a sea of clouds. “You recognize this? It's so familiar, I can’t place it.” 

You frown. “Yeah,” you say, voice tight. “It’s Ihara. The Floating World. Guess I’m going back to Kyoto sooner than I thought.”

Dazai’s expression shifts instantly, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “But what about-”

“They just attacked an executive in the heart of our territory, Dazai,” you say, voice strained. “This needs to be handled immediately, and you and Chuuya need to stay here. If they’re willing to do this, then there’s no telling what they’re capable of trying for. You two need to stay here and be ready to deal with any potential threats to Mori.”

Neither Chuuya nor Dazai look pleased by your words, but it’s Dazai who speaks up, expression twisted. “You can’t order me around, I’m the executive.”

“And because you’re the executive, you know that I’m making the right call, don’t you?” 

Dazai doesn’t look pleased, but he doesn’t reply other than a shake of his head. It’s only when you reach for your pocket to grab your phone so you can call your partner, Itou, that he finally reacts. He grabs your wrist quickly, the pads of his fingers burning against your skin and though he doesn’t speak right away, you still brace yourself for what you know is coming.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says quietly as Chuuya steps away to make a call. “I don’t think-”

“You told me that you’re mine, Dazai,” you say softly. “Heart. Body. Soul. Do I have your trust too?” 

Dazai looks conflicted, face twisting and lips pressing together. His grip on your wrist tightens, but he finally shakes his head and looks away. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “You do.”

“Then trust me when I say I can handle this,” you say, voice coming out a bit more pleading than you intend for it to. You gently shake his hand from your wrist so you can entwine your fingers with his again, squeezing his hand. “I was in Kyoto on my own for years, Dazai. I know what’s waiting for me there. I’ll be fine, we need you and Chuuya here with Mori.”

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally replies, “Okay. I trust you.”

You let out a breath of relief, shooting a text to Itou so you can let him know that plans changed, and you’ll all be leaving in the morning instead. You roll your eyes when you get a ‘yippee’ from the grown ass man as a response, but promptly turn your attention back to Dazai, who’s still frowning at the ground.

You squeeze his hand to get his attention, and he looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s go home and clean the blood off of you. We can spend the night together before I leave in the morning.”

“In the morning,” he echoes, a whine clinging to his tone, but he lets out a melodramatic sigh before giving you a lecherous smile. “... You did promise me that I’d like what you had on underneath the dress more, didn’t you? You gonna prove it?” 

The smirk that curves at the corner of your lips is playful. “You know it.”

You hear a noise of disgust from a few feet away, and you both turn to see Chuuya standing there, looking thoroughly disturbed.

“Gross,” Chuuya scoffs, sneering at the two of you.

“Shut up,” you and Dazai snap at the same time. 

“No you. I don’t need to hear this shit, take it to a goddamn bedroom.”

You and Dazai share a look at his suggestion, then snicker when another groan comes from the ginger.

“Forget it.”

[olisix823]

Human Tribe of Frostbite AU

So, magic happens (because of course it does), and Frostbite’s whole tribe? Yeah, they turn human. But since they don’t act like modern people, everyone just assumes they’re some old tribe that’s been chilling (literally) in the background of history. And the tribe is just like, “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Turns out, they’re ridiculously good at medicine. Like, curing stuff nobody thought was curable. So they start getting famous for that.

Danny? He’s the first outsider to find them and actually get to know them. He already speaks Ghost Speak (because halfa perks) and understands their culture better than anyone else. Which makes him the only non-tribe member who really gets them. And because Danny has the survival instincts of a wet paper towel, he leans all the way in—becoming their official liaison. If the GIW ever comes knocking? Boom—he’s got an alibi. “What? Me? Involved with ghosts? No, no, I’m just a cultural anthropologist studying this very real, very human tribe.” And then he takes it way too far and actually gets a doctorate in Anthropology.

The Fenton parents? SO PROUD. Their son is a doctor like them! Amazing! Incredible!

But then, surprise surprise, the magic wears off. Oops. So now Frostbite and the others start looking like yetis again. Luckily, Clockwork (or some other ghost) makes enchanted necklaces that let them appear human. If anyone asks? It’s just a “tribal tradition.”

If this is DP x DC:

They still have their ghost powers.

People start seeing them as an ancient meta group that’s been around forever, which helps meta activism (“See? Metas have always existed!”).

The Justice League(*cough* *cough* losers) wants to meet them—either for their insane medical skills (because aliens exist and need doctors) or because they’re metas.

Problem: Danny and the tribe kind of hate the JL for never showing up when Amity was literally getting invaded every other week. They don’t cut them off, but they definitely don’t trust them. Also, the GIW is still a thing, and nobody wants to risk exposure.

Also:

Good (but Clueless) Fenton Parents – After a lot of convincing, they stop being ghost hunters and start being actual scientists. They even help get ghosts legal rights! But Danny still doesn’t tell them about Phantom because… yeah, that would be complicated.

Someone write this, please. I need it.

[koushirouizumi]

@taikouvember!

Prompt: Love Commentary: This A.U. became a thing sometime around 2019+onwards in Koushiro fanbase partially due to a series of active discussions between Koushiro fans in the tags and elsewhere (including Me!), most of us who were perturbed that people making Miraculous Ladybug AUs for the fandom didn't immediately place Koushiro as Ladybug despite the fact that Tentomon, whose name literally comes from Tento{u}mushi / 天道虫 {Ladybug} and is akin in looks to one, should make that kind of placement pretty automatic.

We knew that the likely ""reasoning"" is that Koushiro is often considered "unpopular"/""boring"" to other fans, thus resulting in Koushiro's frequent dismissal from not only inclusion in fanfiction, support for Koushiro's wider canon post-02 within meta, and commentaries as a whole but also within many A.U.s (often being regulated to a ""pair the spares"" role in shipping and then immediately ignored by people outside Koushiro-focused fandom); the other reasoning being the fact the girls are just immediately picked for the role a bit more (when not considered with thoughtfulness from their actual fans) due to gender stereotyping regardless of Koushiro's partner literally being close to a ladybug - and that same gendered stereotyping likely also affecting Koushiro never being chosen for such A.U. roles by the wider fandom, without Koushiro fans ourselves bringing the points (and hypocrisy) up.

The rest of us (including many of us in KouTai{/shiro} fandom) were basically saying "fuck that!!" and thus this A.U. was born! Not long after, Kizuna previews; were dropping by 2020, so within my AMVs, I was only just getting to include Kizuna footages by the time, and mainly only stuck to footage from the previews for this A.U.

For my specific A.U., I use "MIRACULOUS? Koushiro" for the title; indicating the "Miraculous" title as a QUESTION; (as if it's something Koushiro's own self is Also Questioning, {but also it's a Koushiro vs Society's Perceptions of Koushiro dynamic; as Koushiro is canonically an ADOPTEE from a Non-normative family} while other Koushiro fans who contribute to it may at times use varying titles or A.U. concepts! However, my "in the rain" AMV was also one of the earliest contributions, as I originally finished that one sometime around September 2019, and actively talked about it with other Koushiro fans around at time.

If you love both Koushiro, and Miraculous Ladybug; (even if you don't ship KouTai{/shiro} as romantic); Please feel free to contribute to this A.U. at any time!! (It is also fine to portray the rest of the Chosen and/or M.L's wider cast within the A.U/A.U. roles, though this specific parody isn't meant as a 1:1 version!) The rest of Koushiro fans who are also M.L. fans would love to see your contributions as well!! {Just please remember; Yes, it was inclusive KouTai{/shiro} fandom who also had an active hand in creating this A.U. for Koushiro so please respect that fact!!}

Digimon Adventure/02/Tri/Kizuna AMV [PREVIEW] ~ A.M.V. featuring pairing: Koushiro(u) Izumi x Taichi Yagami ~ “ ‘Ladybug’ ” {Un-official Title} Music from the M.L. P.V. {the Anime-style trailer by Toei Animation that the M.L. series originated from}

{Feel free to compare the two to ‘See What I Did There TM’!} (Note: Select “H.D.” setting on A.M.V. for better quality!) (Click the gear icon on the video, ‘Quality’ menu, and ‘1080p’!) A.U. A.M.V Spin-off of my KouTai/Taishiro(u) fic-verse “REPEAT?_” - but this AMV can be viewed as a standalone too ! (For most past A.M.V.s in the series + Notes, check here!) [For my later M.L. A.U. A.M.V. “In the rain”, view it here!] * Please read ALL notes (authors’ notes at the beginning + ends of each chapter) before/if you read the fic! (The fic deals with some heavy subject matters which are all included in the notes!)**

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