someone keep me away from the cars au

(plus bonus yosuke!!)

If you doodle Ranpo cuddling with his dad Fufu ((Fukuzawa)) I will

Give you a frog picture I found online

They’re waiting for the doctor.

now give me the fucking frogs

First of all, let me say that it should be read from right to left ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ

  Mori Ougai had retreated to his room for a few days because of the messes made by a few troubled kids at his school, trying to fix the mistakes those kids had made. He was too busy at work, but there was nothing he could do. He hadn't slept or eaten for several days. Now, just as he was about to complete the final parts of his report, he heard a knock at his door. "Come in," he said in a tired voice. The person on the other side of the door was history professor Fukuzawa Yukichi. He was one of those who noticed that the Headmaster had been locked in his room for a long time, and was beginning to worry about him. So he was thinking of taking him out of his room and inviting him to fresh air.

  Even though Mori Ougai knew his door was open, he didn't bother to raise his head and wished the person who entered would say whatever he wanted to say and leave. He prayed himself to that no further problems had arisen. There was a moment of silence, Fukuzawa was staring at Mori with his head stuck in the doorway. 'He looks pale.' he thought. When was the last time he had seen him this bad? After considering it for a while, he sighed calmly and decided to speak. "Are you busy Headmaster?" Fukuzawa asked in a monotone voice. As soon as Mori heard his voice, he revived and looked up at him. "I didn't expect to see you at this time, Fukuzawa Dono." he said in amazement. Then he took off his mask so that the eye bags, which were signs of his fatigue, could be seen more easily, and he leaned back in his chair. Mori tilted his head to the right and smiled, "Glad to see you here, I needed a break." he muttered quietly.

  Fukuzawa didn't enter the room, he leaned against the door frame and folded his arms.  There was a brief silence between them, giving him time for Fukuzawa to review him.  Fukuzawa knew he could take a break after hearing his voice, and now it seemed like Mori had taken away all his motivation to work.  Realizing that this was the case, Fukuzawa considered leaving him alone and giving him space to rest. "Seems like you're tired and busy. I can come another-" Before Fukuzawa could even finish his sentence, an objection from Mori interrupted him. "No! You're not going anywhere," Mori quickly protested, raising both hands in the air. Then he put his hands on the table and got support from them to lift himself up. "So!" he began, "while i find you at this time..." and muttered quietly.

  Fukuzawa was genuinely interested in the lessons and did not visit Mori often, it was extremely difficult for Mori to find him.  But now his opportunity had come his feet. He jumped up cheerfully and, with one hand in the air, began to list the things he wanted to do with him today. "We can have our lunch together first. And then we can take a little walk outside, I miss that- and maybe..." He started speaking slowly at the beginning and sped up towards the end as he counted his requests.

  Fukuzawa couldn't help curling his lips up at this sight. 'Revived so fast.'  he thought through it. Leaning tight against the doorframe, he waited for Mori to finish talking and watched him calmly. He had understood long ago what this heart-warming thing was, they both knew it, but was there any need to verbalize it? It had been a beautiful, relaxing and peaceful day for them.

No one ever told me there was a game called Twisted Wonderland - AND AGAIN, NO ONE TOLD ME THAT THE DRAWINGS OF THE GAME ARE BY YANA TOBOSO! AND NOBODY DID NOT SAY THAT THE TWO CHARACTERS' VOICE ACTORS ARE THE VOICE ACTORS OF MY TWO FAVORITE CHARACTERS. Oh... ok i'm allright... whoa... So i said! Why not dress Fukuzawa and Mori like them and draw them? I can do this, right??

I must thank you again @madamlilac :')

Bye-bye

mori & elise + kiss on the cheek

“I’m going, Elise-chan!”

“Ah. Bye, then.” Elise didn’t even bother lifting her eyes from the drawing she was currently entertaining herself with, not until she felt Rintarô moving a few strands of her hair away to leave a brief kiss in her now more exposed cheek. “You’re the one who’s gonna put my hair back in place, right?”

“Gladly, as always.” Despite her answering with a sigh first and foremost, Elise let him proceed as she had allowed the kiss; him going all cutesy wasn’t all that bad, just too much sometimes.

“You know this is going too overboard with the pantomime, since I either have to go with you or get dispelled, which means we won’t be exactly apart.”

“Still, I will miss you.” Despite how, again, she was technically not going anywhere, it was pretty much genuine. And Elise knew it. Hah, what a sap.

“Given how you’re gonna spend time with your Yukichi,” She had never bothered referring to people in any sort of formal manner, and wasn’t going to start right then either. “I really hope you don’t.”

“You know it’s not like that.” If he was referring to how different those cases were, about what one may think their plans for the evening were or both, Elise didn’t bother asking. Instead, she just shrugged; she obviously knew, duh.

(Also on ao3.)

weekly fic recs #4

here we go. think these are all bsd fics, except for one, which is a bsd crossover,, so. still a bsd fic. have fun

& = platonic, / = romantic

Oneshots

sweetness and a dash of msg; Oxalisalis - bsd

teen | 4.2k words | dazai & ranpo

summary:

Dazai has always found sympathy from others a little too saccharine, but Ranpo’s brand of astringent care might just be palatable enough for him to accept.

OR

Dazai has a habit of forgetting to eat. Ranpo’s solution is to drag him along on sweets excursions.

A Study in Mafia Black; eluvion - bsd

teen | 13.7k words | dazai & ranpo, ADA & dazai, background chuuya/dazai + poe/ranpo | READ TAGS

summary:

If he’s being honest, good and bad don’t matter so much to Ranpo as truth does. Good and bad are subjective, clouded with human error, and honestly, they’re quite boring. Mystery has always been more interesting than morality with the way each string weaves together, creating a tapestry of crime, blood and ash writing their own story. Dazai is still as much of a mystery as he was at first glance, and Ranpo is just as ready to pick apart the truth from whatever plays behind those eyes. Or; a friendship, of sorts, between the two smartest members of the Armed Detective Agency.

no one ever made us feel that much higher; mxlysar - bsd

mature | 13.7k words | poe/ranpoe | READ TAGS

summary:

Ranpo had run out of luck. He was known for his impeccable mission record, for being able to get by on wits alone. There was no such chance this time.

Hanging his head, Ranpo sank to the ground, accepting his rotten situation. He’d catch his breath before making his next move, to scour the city for the supplies necessary to make it back home. His current location allowed him the necessary time to formulate a plan (he wasn’t quite as fast as Dazai on this skill, but he easily held his own). Anyone with functioning sensibilities would take one look at him and turn away, danger written in every line of his being—humans were self-preserving, he expected no less.

At least, he did. Until someone decided to take any shred of that presumption and dump it into the dumpster reeking up his nostrils beside him.

(Or, Port Mafia executive Edogawa Ranpo encounters a mysterious American)

How To Obtain A Child And Husband Entirely By Accident; Insomnia_Productions - bsd

general audiences | 2.2k words | chuuya/dazai

summary:

“Um… who are you?”

“I'm your dad, kid.”

“No you're not, shut the hell up, now leave forever and stay the fuck away from my son.”

· ~ ·

Or: Chuuya accidentally adopts a kid.

Pride and shame; athenaistired - bsd

mature | 7.7k words | chuuya/dazai, chuuya & dazai | READ TAGS

summary:

He was a canvas.

The first time he tried to draw with a kitchen blade across his skin he was only eight years old.

home (where my thoughts escape me); advanced_fanatic - bsd

not rated | 1.6k words | not typing all of these relationship tags; it’s basically fukuzawa & the ADA

summary:

Fukuzawa Yukichi never wanted children. Somehow, he ended up with nine anyway.

grim’s notes: part of a series! alas, i have yet to finish the series, but even just this fic is incredibly enjoyable

Touch; athenaistired - bsd

mature | 5.4k | chuuya/dazai | READ TAGS

summary:

"Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened." Dazai whispered under his breath. The voices inside his head kept laughing at him, insulting him and mocking his being. There was nothing that he could do except cover his ears and sink further into the ground in hopes that something would swallow him whole.

Dazai fucking hated when people touched him.

stay soft; sugarfruitbat - bsd

teen | 11.3k words | chuuya/dazai

summary:

“What the fuck.” Chuuya’s voice is flat and extremely loud in the silent room. It makes him feel a little – not bad, because he doesn’t care how the stupid fish feels, but... mean, when Dazai jumps about a foot in the air at the volume of his voice.

Two dark, slanted eyes meet Chuuya’s over the fold of Dazai’s arms across his knees. It’s only thanks to years of working in the dark that Chuuya’s eyes can adjust well enough to even see him.

“Chuuya’s loud.” Dazai mumbles.

“There’s an intruder in my house at three in the morning, I think I’m allowed to be loud about it.”

--

or, dazai comes to chuuya during a bad mental state, with a bit of "i didn't know where else to go" trope mixed in <3

those marks we never spoke of; starfolds - bsd

teen | 3.8k words | chuuya/dazai

summary:

Everything that could possibly go wrong during their first official mission together as partners goes wrong. Stuck in a cabin in the middle of the forest, they're both wet and muddy and Chuuya is so pissed he's going to have to strip a barely conscious Dazai to make sure he doesn't freeze.

He's not prepared for the amount of bandages Dazai is hiding under his clothes.

This is a boundary Chuuya is not prepared to cross. He doesn't know Dazai, no matter how much they yell and gripe at each other.

This is beyond private and something he's not allowed to see.

Who Needs Money Anyway? (Spoiler Alert: It’s Us); fandomsandshit - bsd

teen | 7.9k | not typing these out; the entire ada bonding w/ each other

summary:

Their funding has been cut.

Akiko stares blankly at the sheet Haruno is holding out to her, hands sweaty and shaky, and resists the urge to scream.

It’s been a long time coming. As much as she hates to admit it, Akiko is honestly surprised it took this long for them to lose some of it; what with the monthly shootings, consistent suicide attempts and general shenanigans of the Agency members.

But how on earth are they going to make enough money now?

---------- (modern-ish au where the ada causes too much property damage for proper funding, and so yosano leads them into the wonderful world of twitch streaming to make money)

Complete Fics

I Was Screaming Your Name Through The Radio; ElectricSplatter - bsd

mature | 10 chapters | 256.7k words | chuuya/dazai | READ TAGS

summary:

“Four months from now will be the seven year anniversary of when you and Osamu Dazai released your hugely successful first and only album Double Black and its diamond single Corruption. After performing with Dazai earlier this year, are you planning anything special to celebrate?”

“Corruption is insanely overrated, and I would prefer to never hear Dazai’s voice for the rest of my fucking life.”

light a match, leave the past, burn the ships (and don’t you look back); Seito - bsd

teen | 15 chapters | 33k words | unrequited chuuya/dazai

summary:

“Do you think you would ever leave the Port Mafia?”

“Haa? What the fuck is that kind of question?”

A question was asked, an answer was given, and choices were made. Sometimes love wasn’t enough.

Sometimes it was about learning to let go.

You Have Cat to be Kitten Me; quinnlocke - bsd

teen | 5 chapters | 11.1k words | chuuya/dazai

summary:

A wayward curse results in the ADA turning into animals, the only cure is to reveal a deep secret.

Dazai thinks he's got it all under control, until an orange cat with a talent for gravity manipulation decides to make an appearance.

Secret-Revealers Club!; Allegory_for_Hatred - bsd

not rated | 9 chapters | 25.5k words | ranpo & yosano | READ TAGS

summary:

5 times Ranpo tries to make Dazai reveal his secret, and the 1 time it works

or,

What's under Dazai's bandages? Ranpo intends to find out!

grim’s notes: really not sure what to describe this fic as. crack and angst. crangst?

corpse of a would-be suicide; seneca_milestone17 - bsd

teen | 17 chapters | 32.1k words | dazai & oda, ADA & dazai | READ TAGS

summary:

“He could only consider me as the living corpse of a would-be suicide, a person dead to shame, an idiot ghost.” ― Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human The Book is unforgiving in its grip and it is neither merciful nor cruel in its methods.

For something to change, it must follow the laws of karma – for something to happen, a sacrifice must be made.

Oda Sakunosuke is that something.

Dazai Osamu is that sacrifice.

But what happens when the Book refuses to let go?

Incomplete Fics

deer in the headlights; doingthewritethings - bsd

mature | 2/3 chapters | 6.7k words | dazai & everyone, chuuya & dazai, dazai & kunikida | READ TAGS

summary:

Before he can respond, everyone grows silent. Kunikida follows their gazes over to a small form in the corner that rubs its eyes and groans melodramatically.

or, the one where an Ability reveals something Dazai would rather hide, and his friends try to pick up the pieces.

grim’s notes: hasn’t been updated in 2 years; the author has responded to recent comments though, and hasn’t stated it’s discontinued or abandoned. no guarantee it’ll update, obviously.

where the tides take us; kempine - bsd/mha crossover

mature | 10/? chapters | 79.2k words | chuuya/dazai, chuuya & shinsou, aizawa & shinsou | READ TAGS

summary:

Dazai seems to be back to his usual I-love-giving-Chuuya-a-headache self, and thus, loudly and proudly declares: “I have two guesses as to where we have been transported!” he pauses purely for the dramatics and just stares at Chuuya smugly, “wouldn’t you like to hear them, chibi?”

Chuuya rubs the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly, “Just spit it out, bastard.”

“So rude,” the mackerel whines at him, at which he can just groan desperately. However, the gods smile at him from the skies above, through the tiny break of sunshine in the sea of clouds, and Dazai finally gets to the point. “We have either travelled to the future, or we were transported to an alternate universe. I am more inclined to believe the first one.”

Or: Chuuya and Dazai work out their relationship while being chased by a hero or two.

grim’s notes: hasn’t been updated in a year or so. dunno if it ever will be, as i’m not the author. still enjoyable nonetheless

hhhhhhhhhhhhhgabsdanf l i am tired. spent far too long onthis, as per usual. maybe i should just start typing them out as the week goes along,, that’d probably be smarter, really.

anyways, if any links are broken or whatever, feel free to tell me. i’ll do my best to fix them.

📺 CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT 📺

Introducing Writer Miri!

Full interview below:

Q: Please tell us about yourself!

A: I'm Miri, a self-taught artist and writer. I like to draw on Procreate or with watercolors, and I like to write AUs with fantasy and fairy-tales elements. My most recent fandoms were FFXV, Word of Honor, and now Persona. I played P5R and P4G, looking forward for the P3P release!

Q: Who is your favorite Persona 4 character and why?

A: Naoto! Because they look so cool, so handsome, their voice is so good, and the game did them so dirty. I am going to steal them away and do them justice, thank you very much!

Q: Which Persona 4 character do you find fun or challenging to draw or write and why?

A: Yosuke is the most fun, you can have the most hilarious mental monologue. And yet he is such a pain to draw because of the hair that makes no sense.

Q: What are your favorite Persona 4 ships?

A: Souyo, Kannao, Yukichie and Naorise.

Q: Which Arcana do you see yourself as?

A: I see myself as the Moon, the quiet discreet type, and very much flawed. I sure do hope I am as influential as some of the Moon Arcana characters though.

Q: What's your favorite trope?

A: Childhood friends, friends to lovers.

Q: Do you have a favorite Persona?

A: Kaguya!!

Q: What made you want to become an artist/writer?

A: I want to play with my little blorbos in my head. It all went downhill from there.

Q: How did you get into the Persona series?

A: I've always been interested in its art and style. I played P5R just because it was a big, popular game, and I wanted to know what it was about. Went into it blind and never looked back, and I sure am glad I gave it a try!

Q: What would you like to accomplish with your contribution to AOA zine?

A: This is my first time writing about the P4 boys so I'm hoping to get acquainted with them in an intimate manner >:) so that I can write more of them later! And of course, I'm hoping to make friends with more P4 fans.

YUKICHI HCS YUKICHI HCS YUKICHI HCS PLEASEEE OH MY GOD I AM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM 🙏

A/N: I will thank you for the rest of my life anon! I love this man from the moon and back. he’s literally perfect! I kinda went all out and add a bit of smut hcs at the end, so feel free to skip it. But I just wasn’t satisfied with just regular hcs. Fukuzawa deserves the whole world and more

Also I would like to say it was my first time writing smutty hcs, so please have mercy on my poor soul ^^; 

Character: Fukuzawa(bsd)

!Warning! 16+, sub!reader, dom!Fukuzawa, praising, mentions of oral sex(reader recieving), dacryphilia, overstimulation

Fukuzawa Hcs

(nsfw at the bottom)   

▫ The perfect partner. Total husband material. Like that man is so fine and for what??? Just kill me with that long silver locks of yours, you sexy bithc-

▫ Fukuzawa’s love language is surprisingly quality time. Fukuzawa may not have a lot of time on his hands, but when he does, he’ll dedicate all his time to you and only you. He’ll take you out to nice restaurants, your favorite stores, a walk in the park, to a cat cafe/shelter, even your own home. Fukuzawa is going to be with you, holding your hand and staring fondly in your eyes.

▫ If you're part of the agency, Fukuzawa gets to spend more time with you. He’ll sit with you during your breaks and drink a cup of tea while listening to you talk about your day or how you plan on taking Kyoka and Yosano out on the weekend. Yukichi loves to hear your voice, it calms him.

▫ If you're not part of the agency, Fukuzawa will make sure to always make sure to have lunches and dinners with you. He takes Sundays off to spend with you before the week begins again.

▫ Yukichi  is quiet and stoic, but once he’s around you he's the softest person alive. He literally melts when you're in his arms(better yet, if he's in yours). His favorite cuddling position is your head on his chest and his arms around your waist. He loves it when you draw shapes on his chest after a particular rough day(or after a certain love session~)

▫ Likewise, he loves to lay his head on your lap and have you run your hands through his hair. Partially because he loves the feeling and also because he loves your thighs(you can not tell me this man is not into thighs, big, small, muscular, chubby, he’s lives just to rest his tired head on them)

▫ Fukuzawa will literally purr at the sensation. Your hands and your body’s warmth lulls him to sleep, bonus points if you start to hum. Man swears he’s reached heaven.

▫ You can bet your ass that your house is a sanctuary for cats. You both take them in when you can. Providing them food and shelter, and most of all love! All the cats love you both. Though you can tell that they love Fukuzawa a bit more than you, judging by the way there are always like 5 to 10 cats sleeping on him or by his side every morning when you wake up.

▫ Not only is it a home for stray cats, but also the Agency members! You're practically a parent to them. More specifically, the younger ones(Kyoka and Kenji) and the kids Fukuazawa took in long ago.

▫ You frequently take Kyoka out shopping, either for clothes or more plushies, and take her out for her favorite foods. Kyoka feels safe and comfortable around you. Atsushi occasionally joins in and he appreciates how you always treat them like kids and not machines or monsters, especially after they were both treated as one since they were born(especially Atsushi).  

▫ Also he likes that he doesn’t have to spend money, because you always insist on paying for everything.

▫ Kenji likes that you listen to his stories and are alway intrigued with them. Also because you alway make/buy him yummy food and sweets. As for Yosano, she loves to go wine tasting with you and shopping. She likes that she’s able to talk to you about everything.

▫ And for Ranpo, he didn’t like you at first. He thought you were going to take Fukuzawa away from him, but after he saw how much you cared for Yukichi and him, he warmed up to you. Ranpo loves it when you bring in snacks for him. You're the only person that Ranpo is willing to share his food with. Likewise, he feels like you're able to understand better than anyone else.

▫ If you were to ever get in any form of danger, Fukuzawa is dropping everything and is at your side in an instant. His biggest fear is that you’re going to be harmed or killed because of your involvement with him. So he makes sure to call you every few hours to make sure you're alright(also for his own sanity). Yukichi doesn’t know if he’ll be the same man if something horrible happens to you.

▫ Although hesitate to ask, because he’s surprisingly nervous, Fukuazawa dreams about marrying you. He wants to wake up every morning to see you sleeping by his side with your ring decorating your ring finger. Also, Yukichi thinks (Y/n) Fukuzawa sounds amazing.

▫ Eventually, Fukuzawa musters up the courage to ask and the rest is history! The ceremony and party after is beautiful. Fukuzawa wants a spring wedding, underneath the cherry blossoms. The whole Agency is invited and makes the ordeal so fun and exciting.

▫ They are all cheering and hollering once you kiss at the altar. And the dance floor is absolutely chaotic. Everyone is crying at your and Fukuazawa’s first dance. Even Kunikida, who denies it, but Dazai got it all on tape.

▫ Fukuzawa swears that he’s never been happier in his life than he is with you by his side.

💞 NSFW 💞

▫ Total service dom.

▫ Your pleasure will always come first, no matter what! He wants you to be totally satisfied before he can satisfy himself.

▫ He loves to see you come undone underneath his fingers. They're so long and the roughness of them sends you squirming and moaning underneath him. Likewise, Fukuzawa knows the right pace to have you cumming on his tongue.

▫ Fukuzawa loves to overstimulate you until you're a drooling, incoherent mess, only able to mumble his name from your swollen lips. Be that by his finger and tongue or his cock, he’s not satisfied until you’re only screaming his name.

▫ I wouldn’t say he’s a sadist, because he lands on the soft dom side, but seeing you tear up makes him harder then he’d like to admit. Of course that only happens if its tears of pleasure, if it was anything else he’s instantly stopping and seeing if your alright and apologizing(ugh-i just love this man) 

▫ His sex drive isn’t really high, but throw on a pair of cat ears then your in for a wild night.

▫ There’s not a specific name that he makes you call him in bed, but if you moan out his name begging for him to stuff you with outstretched arms, then baby there's no stopping him.

▫ He likes his hair to be tugged, or really just for you to have your hands in his hair in general.

▫ Will not do anything to harm you. Degrading, spitting, or spanking is off the table. If you insist, then he’ll lightly choke you or give you soft little hits on your ass.

▫ He loves to praise you, outside the bedroom too, he loves to tell you how pretty you are and how perfect your body moulds into his. Also like it when you praise him as well, trace and kiss his scars and tell him out how pretty/handsome he is, Fukuzawa melts.

▫ His favorite position is missionary, because he loves to see your face twist into pleasure as you come undone with each of his thrust. Fukuzawa, also like it when you ride him. Sometimes he’s too tired and worn to do anything else, so he likes to sit back and lay his hands on your hips and watch you bounce on his cock.

▫ Be sure not to go too slow, because he gets riled up pretty quickly and won’t hesitate to switch positions and pound into you like no tomorrow.

▫ Loves to mark you on your thighs. You can’t wear anything that shows off too much leg or else someone will be asking if you're alright while pointing to the dark purple bites littering your thighs.

▫ He like it when you kiss/bite his lower neck or back of his neck.

▫ Aftercare is the best! He’s cleaning you up while praising how well you did for him and took him. Telling you how stunning you look whilst running a bath for you. He’ll carry you if you can’t walk after(which is often). While you're bathing, he’s changing the sheets and getting you both a glass of water and a bit of food.

▫ You alway end the night with a loving kiss and your head on his chest. Yukichi’s eyes shine in adoration as he stares fondly at your peaceful features. Thanking the universe for bringing you both together.

Hi! My friend and I came up with a really angsty yukichie au where the IT fails to save Yukiko in time but they do save everyone else. So for the prompt, how about Chies thoughts and feelings? Like her initial reaction, her maybe being mad at Yosuke and Yu for not being fast enough, resenting the first years cause they actually got out of the TV world, etc. I'm sorry if this is too general or something I've never written a prompt before

I really wanted to write a sort of.... prequel to this idea. I decided to set it around a week after Yukiko’s death, so everyone is dealing with that fresh wound. I think before resenting Yu, Yosuke or the first years, she would blame herself for not being strong enough to save Yukiko by herself.

Chie kicked her boots off and tiptoed to her room, careful not to wake her parents. She hadn't properly spoken to them since the night of the broadcast, and she'd have liked to go the rest of her life without having to endure the looks they'd given her again.

She threw herself down on her bed and curled in on herself. She wanted nothing more than to call Yukiko, talk about how unfair the world was, apologize for not giving her enough freedom... Just to hear her voice again would be enough to halt the tears that came whenever she was alone.

All because she knew that she truly was alone; robbed of her best friend, and on top of everything, knowing that she was to blame for it. She hadn't been strong enough, couldn't protect her, and Yukiko had died alone and scared, trapped within a nightmare world which represented her best kept secrets and deepest fears come to life.

Chie buried her face in the bundle of blankets, sobbing pathetically. Her parents couldn't possibly understand the truth, nor did she want them to. How could she begin to explain the circumstances of Yukiko's death when she didn't even fully understand them herself? The only thing that she knew for sure was that they hadn't been fast enough. That she hadn't recovered in time. Her weakness, Yu's caution, Yosuke's recklessness; if they had only pushed on and rescued her–

The cellphone in her school bag began to ring, causing her to jolt back at the sudden noise. For all her caution earlier, the noise would surely alert her parents to her presence. She resigned herself to answering, and dug for the phone, fishing it out of the depths of her bag and shaking off the eraser shavings.

"Hey Chie," said the voice on the other end, as it had each night since their failure.

She made a noncommittal noise in response, feeling familiar rage bubble up inside of her. It was really starting to get on her nerves – she didn't need to shoulder anyone else's guilt on top of her own.

After a long, moment of uncomfortable silence, Yosuke spoke again, in that horrible, pitying tone. "I know you said not to call again, but Narukami and I are worried about you. We... I just want to make sure that you're taking care of yourself. You looked like a damn zombie today at school. Letting yourself waste away isn't what Yukiko would have wanted for you."

"What do you know about what she would've wanted?" Chie growled, drawing a surprised noise out of Yosuke on the other end. "You know nothing about what Yukiko wanted, and now you never will. None of us will, because she's... s-she's dead." It hurt to speak it aloud, even this long after she’d accepted the facts.

No matter how hard she tried to hold back her tears, Chie couldn't stop herself from breaking down. Hunching over and clutching her stomach, she found her whole body dully aching.

Yosuke cut in, raising his voice to be heard over Chie's cry of anguish. "You aren't alone, Chie, there are people who care about you. Narukami and I went to visit Yukiko's parents today. Do you know what the first words out of her mother's mouth were? 'How's Chie'? I swore after Saki, that I..." He trailed off, his voice shaking as he struggled with his own emotions. "I won't let anyone else die. I won't sit around and feel sorry for myself, because I'm still here, and I have a job to do. If you want to blame anyone for Yukiko's death, blame the sick freak who pushed her in there. He's still out there, and he'll kill someone else if we don't stop him."

Chie inhaled shakily, trying to calm herself. Of course there were people worried about her, she knew that, but if Yukiko didn't have that comfort, why should she? Even if she wasn't the only one affected by Yukiko's death, that didn't mean that they could ever fully understand how it felt, watching her die, writhing and screaming in pain as the black void engulfed her. Knowing that it was her fault. It was her fault. She was dead, and Chie watched it happen.

"I'll do what I have to do," Chie croaked, "but when we catch that bastard, I'll kill him myself." The words came out before she could really think about it, but she knew she'd meant them. She didn't care what that said about her; whoever had done this to Yukiko would pay.

She couldn't see Yosuke's face, but she could hear the grim understanding in his voice, and knew he must be frowning. "Y-yeah. If the police can't catch him, we need to take care of it ourselves."

Silence washed over them, the weight of their words setting in. If it meant preventing more innocent people from dying, was it the right thing to do? Could she really kill someone?

"Well... I, uh... Goodnight, Chie." Yosuke sounded conflicted, his voice unusually flat. "And... maybe don't tell Narukami about this. I don't know if he'd understand."

When Chie didn't respond, he hung up without saying another word. The dead line buzzed in Chie's ear, and she sat listening to it for a long while.

Yosuke's words had stoked the fire in her, blazing hot with rage. She hoped that she could learn to make use of it, tempering and honing her skills before she met the man who killed Yukiko face-to-face.

But for now, she would have to be patient. They'd have to play along, wait for the crumbs scattered by the killer, carefully watch the midnight channel, and rush in to save whoever they could.

She stood and wiped her eyes, throwing her phone back into her bag before determinedly walking toward her parents' room.

Hi can you do hc of summer troupe after great sardine search w/ reader who loves their ears?

Hi there! I sure can! These ended up being long so I’m splitting them up. First up, Muku + Yuki!

UPDATE: Check out Tenma, Misumi, and Kazunari’s imagines for this request HERE!

·        If Muku was a cinnamon roll (note: he is), then those cat ears added at least 2 layers of icing. He was precious beyond words.

·        Muku was already the softest romantic soul you had ever met, but when he did his tiny kitty mewling on stage, you felt yourself falling in love with your little prince all over again.

·        When he saw you backstage following the premiere performance, his mouth split into a huge grin. He still could not believe that he had someone like you in his life. You were sooo so cute, and sweet, and funny, and he wasn’t even sure if you were real because you were just so perfect and he literally pinched himself one day because he thought he was dreaming but he wasn’t because nothing happened it just really hurt and he did absolutely everything he could to maintain good karma because he really didn’t think he deserved you.

·        Only he did; he treated you like an angel, and you returned all of his sweet, thoughtful gestures in kind.

·        You were totes sympatico, at least that’s what Kazu had said.

·        Muku’s cheeks flushed as he approached, and you closed the space between you and curled your arms around him. Even after a hundred hugs, you were still surprised at the feeling of the wiry, athletic frame beneath you, reminding yourself once again that your shoujo manga loving dreamer had a history as a track star.

·        Pulling back, hands still clasping either side of his upper arms over his furry vest, you looked into his bright eyes, a pale powder blue that stole your breath, especially when they were gleaming as brightly as they were just now. You could not be prouder of this boy for the immense confidence you could see building within him every day, and you could sense that he was pretty pleased with himself, too.

·        You were both speechless for a moment, just drinking in each other’s glee. Shyly, you broke the ice by bringing attention to his costume.

·        “These are soooo so adorable!” you exclaimed, running your fingers over one of Muku’s gray cat ears.

·        He couldn’t feel it, of course, but the physical attention made his breathing shallow.

·        “I know, I want to keep them! Yuki always makes the cutest costumes!”

·        With the mention of the sharp-tongued costume designer, you lifted your finger from an ear for a moment and peered over Muku’s shoulder to ensure that Yuki wasn’t giving you the stink eye for touching his creation. All clear.

·        When you returned your attention to Muku, you noticed a thin wet streak dividing his cheek.

·        “M- Muku, are you crying?” You kept your voice low, quickly wiping the tear from his soft cheek with the backs of your fingers, not wanting to draw attention. You knew how emotional he could get, but you had not yet dismissed the possibility that these weren’t happy tears.

·        “Sorry, I- “ Sniff. “I’m just so happy!”

·        “Aww, my cutie!” you wrapped your arms around him, and he collapsed into your embrace.

·        He had heard that super cool Itaru had cried tears of happiness after the Spring Troupe’s production, so it wasn’t an unmanly thing to do it, right?

·        He glimpsed over your shoulder to where some of his fellow troupe members- no, his friends chattered excitedly about the night’s performance. He was accepted here, he was a valued member of a team, and now with you in his arms he had the fairytale love that he had never thought he deserved.

·        Yuki already knew the cat ears he created for “The Great Sardine Search” were adorable….because he made them, of course!

·        HOWEVER

·        Yuki did not expect you to become as starry-eyed as you did when you saw him wearing them.

·        He knew he made adorable clothes, but he was still coming to terms with the fact that you thought him to be adorable.

·        And ohmygodhewassocute. Those ears integrated into his neatly combed hair perfectly, and he looked just like a little kitty. A testy, super grouchy, spatty little kitty. Yuki was such a cat.

·        “Can I give them a tiny smooch?”

·        ^@#$%^$^@!! You didn’t deserve a response for asking such an outlandish thing. Did you know how many hours it took for Yuki to sew these to perfection? Fine, Taichi helped. A little.

·        “FINE, no tiny smooch.” You reassessed your approach.

·        “Can I pet them a little? Carefully?” Time to pull out all the stops “They’re just so perfect, they look so REAL!”

·        Of course they do; I made them. Mentally denying the swell in pride at your approval, Yuki consented to this with a curt nod.

·        You give him a hella big squeeze, and then stroked one of his floofy little peach ears with a poorly suppressed giggle.

·        Everything about the costume was indeed perfect. You knew how high Yuki’s standards were, and somehow he never failed to exceed them.

·        There were just far too many embarrassing things going on right now and Yuki.exe was experiencing an infinite loading screen.

·        “Careful!” he’d finally hiss, cheeks reddening. He reached up to ensure that the cat ear you touched was intact (he’d have to check for stains later)

·        “Sorry, Yukichi!” you offered dismissively, still transfixed on the soft, angular protrusions from your boyfriend’s head. You met his eyes with a warm smile. You were so proud of how talented he was, and you still couldn’t believe you were able to gain his affection despite his perpetually icy shell. It was a rare occasion, but there were moments (usually over-worked, over-tired moments) when you got a private little snuggly Yuki all to yourself. So you didn’t mind snappy Yuki - he wouldn’t be Yuki without that sass, after all - and you knew that tucked deep into that stony exterior, there was a softer, loving Yuki that you knew was for you and you alone.

·        “You’re the cutest, Yuki. I just love your little nose,” you cooed in a softer tone.

·        “Uh, I’m not wearing a cat nose?” he replied with a huff, ignoring the acceleration of heart palpitations thumping gently in his ears.

·        “I know that, it’s your nose that’s just too cute.

·        The apples of Yuki’s cheeks are now a lovely crimson red that match his scarf in a way that he would appreciate.

·        “Okay, no more touchy,” he said brusquely, but gently removed your hand from the accessory on his head, holding your fingers just a tad longer than necessary. “Do you want me to have to spend all night mending these when we’re supposed to be hanging out?”

prompt suggestions!- the phantom thieves pov regarding akechi and akira's relationship, a continuation of portrait of you with uraraka as a working hero, a snippet of agency chuuya ...?

it’s been 10000 years since i updated Nothing Noble and you guys will have to wait 10000 more years before i can get back to it so here, have chuuya and dazai’s reunion, you deserve it

-

When Chuuya woke up, it was to the distorted and fake sound of gunshots, and grunts and cries running thin through the cool air. A video game, he thought blearily, his head ringing still with the blow of the girl’s ability—a demon with a sword folding out of her back, just like—

His temple throbbed. Chuuya groaned, frowning, feeling the dry pull of skin under crusting blood. So sharp was the pain that he felt nauseous; and either the girl had been as highly-trained as she had looked, or he was very lucky, for a few centimeters lower and he could have died on the spot. He swallowed back the bile. He exhaled painfully, and reached up to touch the wound.

Or he tried, at least.

His right wrist was stopped by a bond of some kind. His left wrist by another—a skin-soft, skin-warm other.

New cries and gunshots rang out of the game just as Chuuya realized that the emptiness in his chest was not simply due to fatigue.

“Oh, just great,” he spat out.

His voice broke over the words, but it was no matter. Chuuya was having to breathe and clench the teeth now, to acquaint himself again with the feeling of nothingness where his ability should lay. The fingers circling his wrist tightened.

“Welcome back,” Dazai replied. “Please don’t bark so loudly, I’m trying to beat my record.”

Chuuya inhaled sharply and opened his eyes.

He immediately regretted it: the light of the port mafia’s infirmary was still the disgusting, blinding white he remembered from his childhood, and the brightness made the side of his head shout with pain. He was definitely concussed, he thought, feeling nausea roll up his throat. With any luck he’d vomit on Dazai’s clothes and not his own.

Dazai took his sweet time. As if wanting to draw out the moment—and maybe he did, the sadistic bastard—he finished his game. He must be doing it one-handedly too, considering his fingers hadn’t let go of Chuuya’s wrist for a second. Chuuya refused to be the one to look at him first. He sat straighter in the chair he was bound to and stared at the window opposite him, through which a pale square of grey sky showed.

At last, the victory jingle of Dazai’s game rang in the silence. Dazai let it play for a while before turning off his console. He sighed loudly; the very sound of it made Chuuya’s chest feel tight, pressurized. Dazai rose to his feet, still holding Chuuya by the wrist, before letting go. He walked around the chair to stand before him.

And Chuuya would rather die than look meek before someone, before Dazai, so he met his eyes defiantly.

He was so stupidly tall. Of course Dazai had always been lanky, skinny and long-limbed, but now his legs and torso stretched without the awkwardness of adolescence. His face was thinner, his eyes wider-apart. His hair was still the same mess, lighter-brown rather than black.

His shoulders had grown to fit the coat Mori had given him so long ago.

“I hate what you’ve done with the hair,” Dazai told him conversationally.

His voice was deeper too.

“Piss off,” Chuuya couldn’t help but reply.

“I wish. I’ve been holding it back for an hour.”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Dazai looked thoughtfully aside. “I see you haven’t gotten any less rude,” he said, still in that same even voice Chuuya had always despised. “Although you have gotten weaker.”

“Let me go,” Chuuya growled, all of his body strained against the bonds; “and I’ll show you just how weak I am, you son of a whore.”

Silenced crushed the space between them to smithereens.

Dazai sighed again. His fingers found the side of Chuuya’s neck a few seconds at most before the Tainted Sorrow would have gone back to him. Chuuya wanted to rage as the feeling of emptiness deepened; he wanted to bite off Dazai’s hand, to spit out of his own chest the nostalgia now holding him back.

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t use Kyouka-chan for this purpose,” Dazai said. The pad of his thump pressed right above Chuuya’s clavicle, right under the collar of Chuuya’s shirt; right above his pulse. “I was counting on the surprise. Good thinking, me.”

“You’re such a piss poor excuse for a human being.”

“You’ll hurt my feelings.”

Chuuya snorted audibly.

Still, he was reeling from the sight of the girl’s ability. Still his heart ached with the memory of Kouyou’s Golden Demon.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Dazai’s hand shifted around his neck. It fit against the line of his shoulder full-palmed. “Izumi Kyouka,” he replied at last. “Her ability is called Demon Snow. Looks a lot like ane-san’s, doesn’t it? I even dressed her up like her—”

Chuuya’s foot erupted out of the rope keeping it tied to the chair leg and hit Dazai in the belly.

Dazai crashed into the opposite wall satisfactorily. The sound of broken wood as he fell over the desk there was music to Chuuya’s ears, as much as the pained grunt he let out, squeezed from his throat. Chuuya bit down on the twisted regret flaring up his ribcage. He lowered his foot again, focusing on the pain of rope-burn and of his twisted ankle.

“Don’t fucking say her name,” he warned Dazai lowly.

Dazai pushed himself to his feet again slowly while Chuuya tested the give of the chair under him. It was bolted to the floor, and his left foot was too solidly roped to hope to tear it out as well. He couldn’t risk two twisted ankles while in port mafia custody. Still he tensed within his bonds, his spined arched off of the wooden backrest as far as it would go, his arms bulging against the rope. When Dazai touched his neck again, he growled in frustration.

“You’re such an animal,” Dazai complained.

His voice was hollow. Chuuya saw with half-satisfaction, half-guilt that his right shoulder hung limply out of its socket.

“You’ve been hiding around civilized people for years, and you still act like this? I’ve heard of Fukuzawa Yukichi, you know. Mori-san calls him a righteous man. It’s a wonder he welcomed you into his group.”

“Mori won’t be saying shit for much longer,” Chuuya bit out harshly.

“Biting and barking and drooling everywhere,” Dazai replied. “You know you won’t get to him like this. Or to Ango.”

Or to me, he didn’t say.

Chuuya wouldn’t have know what to do if he had.

Dazai’s hand lifted from his neck again. Chuuya jumped back as it rose into his face, hating himself for it and hating Dazai more—but Dazai did not laugh or make any comments to him. His hand simply followed the path of Chuuya’s head until it knocked into the wall; then he touched Chuuya’s cheek right where gauze hid the scar. His cold fingers pinched the edges of it and tore it away without a care.

The ugly hole there always stung when the weather was damp and cold; it stung now, being freed from the bandage, a crater of scar and skin high up on Chuuya’s bone. Dazai looked at it in silence.

When he could stand it no longer—when the quiet grated at him and made him feel as though his skin were being peeled away—Chuuya spat out: “Admiring your handiwork?”

Dazai breathed out quickly. He threw the dirty gauze into a paper-basket by the desk with disgusting accuracy, then rubbed at the finger hanging from his dislocated arm for a second. He took hold of Chuuya’s shoulder again and did not look at him.

“You’re out of luck,” he said, even and bored. “Mori isn’t in Yokohama now. Neither is Ango.”

“Like you would know if he was.”

“He was my friend, you know,” Dazai whined to him.

Chuuya was about to kick him again, twisted ankle or not, when someone knocked on the door.

They looked at each other in silence before looking away as one; Dazai’s hand flexing over Chuuya’s shoulder as if to brace him, Chuuya’s hurt foot touching the floor as if ready to kick away and fly.

As if this were combat, the both of them standing on the same side again.

Oda Sakunosuke entered first. He took one look at Chuuya, his serious face plying with—with pity or fucking compassion, Chuuya didn’t know and didn’t care. If he had the means now, he would plunge a first through Oda’s chest and tear out his beating heart, no matter that he had once protected him for Dazai’s sake.

Oda may now where Sakaguchi was. Out of them all, he was the most likely to know, and the most likely to be able to hide the information from Dazai successfully.

“Don’t bite, now,” Dazai murmured.

His fingernails dug into the soft flesh between bone and tendon, made all the easier to feel for Chuuya’s tension. Chuuya clenched his teeth. Dazai threatening him physically again, without even a gun this time—what a joke.

He relaxed only when he saw the shadow behind Oda: Akutagawa, as tall and skinny as Chuuya had seen him last over the tiger boy’s prone body; and still looking at him now with fear in his eyes.

Dazai’s hold relaxed. His hand left Chuuya’s body altogether as he walked leisurely toward his subordinate. “Did you bring it?” he asked jovially.

“Yes,” Akutagawa rasped out.

He handed over a small box, which Dazai took from him without a word. Akutagawa stood still then, his hand still outstretched, his eyes still jumping between Chuuya and the floor uneasily. His black coat seemed to shiver about his skin as if moved by his powers; as if, even now, Rashoumon were preparing for someone to bring a knife out.

“Hi,” Chuuya told him bluntly. “How’s that wound?”

Akutagawa jumped. Rashoumon flared off of his shoulders like wings, posing against the door at his back in defense.

“Thank you,” Dazai said pointedly. He threw Akutagawa a dark look. “You’re dismissed. Shoo.”

Akutagawa didn’t have to be asked twice. He nodded curtly and left, bowing the head when he passed by Oda’s side, who gave him the same look he had given Chuuya.

Chuuya’s guts squirmed unpleasantly. “What the hell did you put through that kid’s head?” he asked Dazai. “He keeps looking at me like I’m about to tear him a new one.”

“Nothing much,” Dazai replied distractedly. “Just incentive enough not to get any ideas about fraternizing with you.”

Oda shook his head and sighed. He still hadn’t said a word.

Dazai did not look at him anyway: his hands were busy with the box Akutagawa had brought. He slid the lid of it open one-handedly, taking out a syringe full of water-clear liquid, letting the box drop to the floor uselessly.

Chuuya’s heart skipped a beat. The pain in his temple sharpened; he pulled against his restraints uselessly.

“What the fuck is that,” he growled.

“Just something to keep you nice and put while I tend to some business,” Dazai replied, flicking a nail against the glass vial. “Now be still.”

Excess air erupted out of the needle head, and a droplet fell out and crashed onto the wooden floor.

Bile swarmed within Chuuya’s mouth.

He hardly saw Dazai approach. His ears rang under the rush of his own blood; fear the likes of which he hadn’t known in fifteen years blinded him, taking away sight and smells and sounds, as if he were afloat in green water again; from deep within his belly, the growl of a great beast echoed, enraged, uncontrollable. Pulling against the bright-gold bonds that Fukuzawa’s ability granted, showing Chuuya once again what a flimsy excuse for control this was—

“Dazai.”

Chuuya stilled, and blinked, and heaved.

That had been Oda’s voice. Dazai had stilled as well, his cold hand frozen upon the skin of Chuuya’s forearm. Chuuya first saw Oda standing behind Dazai and having grabbed Dazai’s unhurt shoulder; then he looked at Dazai, whose eyes were wide open and fixed onto Chuuya’s face.

There was an expression there that Chuuya had seen before, a long time ago. Something fragile, something outlining the youth of Dazai’s mouth and cheeks, the fatigue bruised under his eyes. Something that made Dazai lift his injured arm as if to touch Chuuya’s neck again—as if to brush fingers against the numbers tattooed at his nape, as he once did every time Corruption ravaged Chuuya whole—before he stilled.

His hand fell. His thumb rubbed at the side of index nervously. He stared at Chuuya in silence, his other hand still pressed to Chuuya’s forearm.

“It’s just a sedative,” Dazai said. “And something to keep your powers in check.”

His voice was unbearably soft.

Chuuya licked his lips. His temple throbbed. “This is supposed to reassure me?” he rasped out.

“No,” Dazai replied immediately.

But it had, and he knew it. They both knew it.

Still Chuuya tried to jerk his hand back with Dazai took hold of him again. Still a whimper tried to escape his lips when the needle punctured his skin, as his mind once more shook with half-buried memories, with the sight of a book torn out of a dead man’s hand, showing pictures he wished he had never seen.

There were so many things one could do to him while sedated and powerless, even if Mori was far, even if Dazai stood before him with more sanity in his eyes than when they were children. Chuuya breathed in deeply. The very slight ache of the needle pulling out made him want to cry out.

Dazai’s hand lingered above his skin for a moment longer. He wiped the small wound with his thumb when a single drop of blood leaked out; he backed away; he pressed his palm to Chuuya’s skin again, and then stepped back entirely.

“I hate you,” Chuuya let out uselessly.

Dazai stared at him in silence. Already Chuuya could feel his eyelids weigh down as the sedative worked through him. He blinked open his eyes forcefully. Dazai’s face blurred and swayed, pale and haunting.

As consciousness faded from Chuuya, Dazai replied, “I know. You’re right to.”

The last Chuuya saw of him before darkness took him was the flutter of a black coat and a bowed head of brown hair; and his last thought flew to that same dark hair in the moonlight, to a blasted-open hangar stained with the blood of dozens of strangers—

—to Dazai holding a glistening pistol up, shaking through his body, begging him: “Please. Don’t make me do this.”

final thoughts on: Hirunaka no Ryuusei (2017)

to aka. Daytime Shooting Star

MUCH SPOILERS AHEAD

- I have read the manga, and I have loved the manga surprisingly much, even when it’s about a student/teacher relationship which I usually steer away from. So FOR ONCE I can compare the movie and the original text! 

- I think the plot of the movie is good, the manga was adapted well for the big screen. There were some weird changes; For example, I’m pretty sure Shishio and Suzume did go to the aquarium in the manga (correct me if I’m wrong). But I recognise changes like that were made in order to shorten the movie, and it doesn’t really hurt the story. The same message gets delivered surprisingly well, even with the changes. The pacing of the story is very good.

- The casting is really good! I had my doubts about Miura Shohei as Shishio-sensei, but his acting style suited Shishio! My favorites were definitely Shirahama Alan as Mamura and Yamamoto Maika as Nekota! Those characters were my absolute favorites in the manga as well, and I’m so glad the casting was on point! When it comes to Suzume, it took me a while to warm up to Nagano Mei, but by the end of the movie I thought she was okay. OH, and Sato Ryuta was nice as well, it’s just such a shame his role didn’t get much screentime, Yukichi is such a good character. 

- I like my romances with a hint of good girl friendship. I love love love Nekota as a character, and she didn’t disappoint me at all in the movie! In fact, the scene where Nekota and Suzume fight at Suzume’s house had me tear up a little.

- I have a lot to say about student/teacher romance in Japanese movies, and I hope not to dig too deep here. I just find it very odd that so many people condone to these kind of romantic stories, when often times the age gap between the teacher and student is easily ten years. 

- That being said, while Hirunaka no Ryuusei balances on the fine line of what is ok and what is not, and in the end Suzume falls for Mamura, a boy her age. I like it how she says she will cherish the memory of Shishio as her first love, but that’s all there is to it in the end. What is not apparent in the movie, is how immature Shishio is. Sure, he’s a little immature and seems younger than his age, but I think it’s brought up better in the manga. Like how he admits he doesn’t get along with people his age etc. BUT THAT’S A PROBLEM. It should not be romanticized. Shishio may be cute as fu*k (both in manga and the movie), but that is not reason enough to support this couple. Just, no. Shishio gets his punishment in the form of Yukichi (who I’m pretty sure punched Shishio in the manga, but I may remember wrong). 

- Hirunaka no Ryuusei is a teacher-love fantasy for young teenage girls, who have been in the situation of crushing on their teachers. In that sense, it’s not wrong. What is wrong is to promote this kind of relationships as healthy. The fact that I rooted for Mamura may be because I read the manga and saw the movie while older than the intended audience. (I’m 25.) I can totally understand teenage girls swooning over Shishio-sensei, and I don’t blame you. But if you, as a watcher or a reader, are the same age as Shishio you should be able to understand what is wrong with this couple.

- The relationship between Shishio and Suzume is downplayed a lot in the movie. I found it really hard to even root for them (which I admit I did a few times while reading the manga), but I think that’s how it should be. In the manga they had a lot more interaction between them (didn’t they go to a ryokan?), and Mamura was always more on the background. I don’t mind at all that the dynamic has been changed for this movie, and Mamura becomes the prince of Hirunaka no Ryuusei!

- Long story short, I liked Hirunaka no Ryuusei live action a lot! Too bad if you were rooting for Shishio, because Mamura is the prince of this story. Just like with the manga, I came here for the love story (and the pretty drawing style tbh), but I stayed for NEKOTA and MAMURA, who are amazing! This is one of the only stories that explore the student/teacher romantic relationship that I like. I intend to watch some more of these, though, because I want to be able to talk about this subject. 

It’s okay for teenagers to fall in love with their teachers - of course it is. I’d say it’s part of growing up. I’m pretty sure a lot of girls in my high school had a crush on our history teacher (because tbh he was awesome). It becomes a problem, when an adult, an adult who is able to understand the situation, respons to those feelings in a mutual way. That is wrong. 

(Yeah oops this turned into a rant. Sorry. I liked the movie, go watch it! If for nothting else, then check out my homegirl Nekota Yuyuka!)

I was browsing through my old sketchbook and stumbled upon my favorite OC, which I just had to draw again after a very long time. <3

It's a double portrait of the same character Yukichi, a many centuries old male kitsune spirit who is known for seducing men in a female disguise named Yukihime. After he seriously fell in love for the first time and got his heart drastically broken, he decided to stop with the whole seducing thing and just live his best life in the village as far from people as possible.

There's an alternative future where he's approached by a young man from the village who falls in love with him and they live happily ever after. Because you know, my baby Yukichi just deserves a happy ending after struggling with his internalized homophobia for literally centuries. lol

What I like about this OC is just the thought of a mythical creature living his best retired life in the village, not doing anything scandalous, just doing chores, growing herbs and vegetables in his little garden and sometimes (when he's feeling adventurous) baking bread.

I think that the inspiration with Tomoe from Kamisama Hajimemashita is more than obvious here. I just love that dude. And the anime/manga in general. Long live domesticated kitsunes!

Photograph (aka Put a name on it Part 3)

Pairing : Shishio Satsuki x Samejima   Rating : T (Surprise, Surprise)   Summary : This story is set before Shishio and Samejima start screwing, um, sorry, seeing each other. Part 1 | Part 2 | short extra For my darling Anon who requested protective Shishio. Forgive me if this isn’t what you had in mind.

  When Shishio is restless, he taps his feet. Or smokes. Or does both. He isn’t agitated enough for a smoke, a little perplexed maybe, but his feet are starting to hurt with all the tapping.   It’s ten minutes past seven, he’s finished his french toast, it’s not a problem for him per se - the school is only fifteen minutes away, and he’d make it with plenty of time to spare - but she should’ve been at his door at least twenty minutes ago, being impatient and helping him with his tie - of course it wasn’t couple like at all - and made it on to the train by now. Her workplace was a bit of a distance away and she preferred the lighter rush of the earlier trains.   Today, the extra toast he had made - not for her of course, but just in case, because she never has the time to make breakfast - sat on the stove, untouched. 

  It’s not like it was a  thing, but she hadn’t shown up last night for the  9 PM showing of F.R.I.E.N.D.S either. He didn’t expect her to come over, it’s not like they’d ever even talked about it or anything, but… It had slowly developed into a sort of natural routine that he hadn’t  ever questioned, and now at the first break of that routine, he found himself worried and anxious.   Had he said something that put her off? Had he offended her sensibilities somehow? It occurs to him that he’s bordering paranoid and maybe a little stalker-ish but upon checking Facebook, it tells him she was only active 15 hours ago.   He could check on her of course, she literally lived right next door. But what if she was busy? What if she was avoiding him specifically? The last thing he wanted to do was be a bother and jeopardize a relationship with the first woman he genuinely cared about in six years.   He heads out to the balcony for that smoke, because maybe he does need it now after all. Ruffling his hair in frustration, he wonders when exactly the equation had shifted, when it had grown from simply being neighbourly to something he now considered as a relationship. With a woman. That he cared about.   It is somewhere amidst this confused introspection that he glances in the direction of her balcony. He squints a little, adjusts his glasses because he’s sure he can’t believe what he’s seeing.   The sliding door to her balcony was slightly ajar, and a pale hand stretched out onto the floor.   Before he could stop to think about a plausible explanation, or even some gruesome rationale, he had already discarded all neighbourly boundaries and swung into her balcony.   And it was a good thing he did.   She lay on the floor, paler than the white flooring, almost ghostly white against the dark, damp hair that stuck to her forehead.   “… Samejima!” There was no use shaking her. Her body was like pallid marble set on fire. For a moment he felt somewhat guilty looking at her like this, where she was unconscious, vulnerable, her nightshirt having ridden up to expose the contours of her ribs.   He tries, as delicately as possible, to hoist her into his arms without waking her. But his worries were baseless, her face showed no indication of any awareness at all.   He is caught with more deliberation, as he hesitates outside her room, whispering, “Forgive me, Samejima,” for entering her room without permission. When he enters he is a little shocked, because her room is far from what he had imagined it to be. Not that he had imagined it of course, being in her room, with her, or anything else of that sort, but the chaotic mess in front of him was a sharp contrast to the image of her that his mind had construed.   It is at this point that he starts to feel slightly unwelcome, because maybe there’s a reason she’s never invited him over, maybe there was something she didn’t want others to see. Hastily, he pushes the assortment of papers and clothes and god knows what else, on to the floor, and lays her down as gently as he can.   She stirs slightly, when he covers her with the blanket, her body stretching to accommodate the warmth. There’s a kind of staccato about her, a melancholy that bathes her face, something so stark he wonders how he never noticed it behind her straightforwardness.   Her room is almost bare save for the mindless clutter of belongings he had just tossed to the floor, and her bathroom was no better. It didn’t make sense to him. She’d told him she’d been in Tokyo for the last one year. He’d seen her move in three months ago. Yet this place showed no more signs of being inhabited than a deserted apartment, her suitcase strewn open, clothes folded haphazardly on top, toothbrush sticking out of the side pockets. The whole picture screamed of a restless detachment, one he had never sensed in her till now, one that had never surfaced from behind her placid smile, and her impeccable formal attire.   He manages to fish out a towel, a small blush heating his cheeks as he maneuvers through her more ‘private’ category of clothing, and as he runs it in cold water, he wonders if there’s someone he could call, someone who  could take care of her. He remembers mentioning Yukichi, Suzume even, she’s met Tsubomi, he’s even talked about his grandma. But she hadn’t told him anything. He didn’t know - for sure, at least - if she was single, if she had friends… She had never even mentioned her parents! The wet towel manages to soak up some heat, and he can already see some blood back in her cheeks. Her mouth hangs open, and it occurs to him that through all their late night conversations and mindless squabbles on the way to work, it’s only been him talking, and somehow she’s managed to perfect the art of talking without really saying anything.   There’s a stinging sensation in him, somewhere, deep inside, and as he brushes the damp hair away from her forehead, he realises it’s an ache, a longing, to know more.   Slumping beside her sleeping figure on the floor, his eyes rest on the colossal mess of paper and tiny trinkets on the floor. There’s a drawing of Yona, the protagonist of a popular shoujo manga (that Shishio no doubt follows). It’s just a rough sketch, with some pencil shading, and a upon closer inspection there’s a tiny illegible signature at the bottom. For a moment he forgets the place he’s in, the situation and everything, and his eyes light up in excitement, when he spots the hand-written message on top saying “For Satsuki”.   She’d probably tease him right now, squeeze her eyes shut and joke about his smile blinding his eyes, but it falls short of just that, when his eyes fall on a tattered photograph that was just about hidden by the drawing.   It took a minute for Shishio to realise what he was looking at. It took a minute more for him to register the strange, clawing sensation in his heart.   It’s almost as if the picture was taken in another world, a parallel dimension, where the Samejima he knows was replaced by a younger one, slightly more girlish, long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders, a smile nearly thrice the size of her hesitant half-grin-half-smirk, that she sported these days.   There was something about the picture that rendered Shishio unable to believe that it was the same woman who lay behind him out cold, something that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was almost an innocent charm, a vivacity… Or maybe it was just love.   Because there she stood, white dress, flowers, and a beautiful smile hidden behind a veil, looking with adoration into a man’s eyes. It felt so personal, the look they shared, the way she held his arm, the ring on her finger… Shishio felt guilty for even looking.   The clock on his cellphone showed 7.45. He’d make it to class on time if he hurried. She was sleeping peacefully enough, maybe he could come back during lunch and check on her.   More than anything, he was overcome by an indefatigable urge to run from this room, from her… It felt like he had overstayed his welcome anyway.   He got up, his heart beating faster than normal, wondering if maybe he was the one with a fever, careful to sidestep the photograph on the floor, trying even harder to not look at it again. It was stupid really, but he just didn’t like it, didn’t like the fact that he had to be here, unwelcome, and chance upon it himself, hated even more that that she never told him.   He wants nothing more than to run out of the door and pretend he hasn’t seen anything at all… Till a pale, sweaty hand reaches for his last finger feebly, stopping him in his tracks.   “… Satsuki… stay.”   She motions for him to come sit next to her again, gesturing with her hands weakly. He’s not sure she’s aware of what she’s doing when he feels her hands, hot and a little sweaty, reach for his, bringing him closer to her.   “Like this,” she breathes, placing his hand on her head, and patting it softly. “… My mother… does this… when I’m sick…”   “… Ohh,” is all he can manage, because his mind is processing too many things all of a sudden - like the feel of her damp hair under his fingers, the fact that she’d brought up her mother, the wistfulness he’s sure he glimpsed under the fever induced haze of her eyes… and the almost - painful constriction of his heart.    …   Thud.   Muffled shouting.   Thud Thud Thud.   The noises rang loud and strange down the stairway of his apartment. He didn’t know what the commotion was. A little kid locked outside the house maybe?   Thud thud. The banging on the door grew louder as he climbed the stairs. It didn’t sound like the doing of a child anymore.   “… I know you’re there. Open up.” It was a man’s voice. And it sounded like it was coming from his floor.   An unsettling feeling of foreboding washes over him.   “… Open the door, Samejima.” Shishio’s heart almost stops.   She’s older than him - by just three months - and he’s never doubted how capable she is of taking care of herself, but there’s something in the man’s tone of voice that sends shivers down his spine.         His feet move faster, his heart thudding in his ears.   Shishio reaches his floor just in time to see him lean against her door and whisper, menacingly, “… I know you’re listening, sweetheart. Let me in. Or I will break your door if I have to.”   He’s dressed simply, yet powerfully, grey shirt, black trousers and a tie that screams money. Shishio’s green sweater and jeans wouldn’t hold a candle to it, but he doesn’t stop really stop to think. “… Can I help you?” he asks, his voice a stranger to himself.   “… I don’t think it’s any of your business,” the man replies with a polite, perfunct smile that didn’t help to hide the fury in his threatening gaze.   “… You’re standing in front of my door,” Shishio retorts, levelling his gaze, “I believe it’s entirely my business.” It wasn’t his door of course, but he didn’t need to know that.   There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes, like he didn’t believe Shishio, like there was no way, he could be wrong. “… I would like to speak with her.” His tone is measured, clipped, but the tick in his jaw gives away his anger.   “I’m afraid I have no clue who you’re talking about.”   Doing his best to keep calm, Shishio moves to stand in between him and the door, inwardly afraid that if he lets him close, he might actually do good on his promise to break it down.    When he looks him in the eye, pale blue under a mop of startling blond hair, it strikes him that there’s something familiar about this man, something that he can’t quite place his finger on, like he’s seen him before.   “… Seeing as I can’t help you, I’d like you to leave.” His eyes narrow, and before he can say anything else, I add, “… Before I call the police.”   A faint smile plays out on his lips. Maybe the psychiatric facility would be a more suitable option for this guy.   “I know you can hear me,” he snarls, his voice low, but his gaze straight ahead, as if he could see straight through Shishio, “… you can’t hide forever, sweetheart.”   There’s something in the way he speaks, something so proprietary, that had Shishio clenching his fists involuntarily, like he knew she was in there, knew he would find her, knew everything that there was to know about her.   Most of all, he spoke like Samejima belonged to him.   And it made Shishio sick.   …     Watching from the corridor above as the blonde man exited the apartment building, this whole experience has left such a bad aftertaste that Shishio considers calling the cops anyway and providing a complete description of Samejima’s stalker, maybe even demand that he be arrested for harassment.   But first he needed to confront her.   There was something that had left him disturbed after last week’s incident, when she had fallen sick so suddenly, collapsing in her house only for a panicked Shishio to break into her house and find her sprawled on the ground hours later.   Her behaviour towards him hadn’t changed much, she still smiled at him the same, still criticised his French toast. But he couldn’t look at her the same way anymore. Not after knowing that there was so much behind that smile that she wore on the outside, so much she didn’t tell him.   He had found himself looking at her just a little bit more closely, trying hard to see the cracks that she hid so well.   The only thing that had changed was that one night after dinner and laughing too hard over Chandler’s jokes, she just casually hung her spare keys on his key stand and told him, “I’d like you to keep these for me.”   When he had looked at her astonished, she had simply smiled and said, “Surely the front door has to be easier than the balcony.”   He rings the bell well after he’s made sure her stalker is nowhere to be seen, because he knows she’s in there, she was supposed to have dinner with him ten minutes ago.   She doesn’t open the door, even after four bells, but it’s kind of expected really, there was a sinister, obsessed stalker at her door barely five minutes ago. He hesitates, because he’s not entirely sure if he should, but there’s a gut-wrenching feeling that tells him he needs to see her and it cannot wait till tomorrow so he fetches his set of keys and enters the house.   It’s so dark inside, he begins to wonder if she really is home after all. Turning on the flashlight on his phone, he can tell the house is just as barren as when he was in here a week ago, but now with no light, a crazy man showing up at the door, and a house that looked completely uninhabited, it was kind of eerie, to say the least.   “… Samejima?” he whispers, when his gaze finally falls on the faint outline of a crumpled figure in the darkness. It scares him to see her like this, like someone he can’t even recognize, frozen in terror, cheeks wet with silent tears, lips gnawed and bitten till it had drawn blood.   What happened to you, he wants to ask, and who the fuck, was that man pounding at your door?   But she’s crouched in the corner, curled into herself, shivering with all her tears drained out of her, and Shishio knows that the answers can wait.   “… Hey,” he whispers softly, turning off the light and taking her in his arms. ‘… I’m here.“ She’s stiff, non-responsive, but Shishio does his best to be patient, afraid that the woman who’d started to creep into his life, his every day, his thoughts, might literally fall apart in his embrace.   “He found me…,” she croaks, so soft, Shishio wonders if he’s imagining it. “… He found me… Again.” She chokes on a sob, and he hears the panic in her voice, the fear. “… I can’t do this anymore, I have to leave,” – - “… Shh!” He says cupping her face, forcing her to look at him, forcing her to acknowledge him, for once, trying to get through to her that she can rely on him, that she doesn’t have to face this – whatever this was - alone anymore, because he can’t bear the thought of her leaving, “… It doesn’t matter if he found you.” And he doesn’t think about what he’s doing, just lets his lips brush against hers, damp with blood and tears, and whispers, tenderly against her cheeks, “… I’ll protect you.”

-------------------------------

A/N: I literally deleted this story by accident because i fucking around on mobile, and i deeply apologize. As always, I really appreciate anyone who has the patience to stick around to the end and stick with stories. xo

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SHISHIO AND SAMEJIMA HC's I WOULD DIE FOR YOU holy shit thank you,,may I ask if you have any more amazing hc's up your sleeve?

oh my goodness, thank you so much! :D

i do have more headcanons, actually, but definitely not the colossal-sized amount i vomited out the last time, lol. i would be more than happy to share them with you!

shijima headcanons:

despite being a shoujo manga editor and understanding the complexities behind how manga work (like making the images and words flow, etc.), samejima can not draw to save her life. she has an old portfolio hidden somewhere in her apartment full of really old, really bad drawings. she lets shishio see this after he asked her if she knew how to draw (and begged could she draw him), to which she says “absolutely not.” he tries really hard not to laugh while looking through it, but just when she’s had enough of his teasing, he asks her to draw him anyway because this is a new side of her that he finds endearing. the drawing is just as bad as they knew it’d be, but shishio frames it anyway.

both shishio and samejima, but particularly shishio, have a habit of comparing each other to shoujo characters, in that when one of them does something really sweet or simple even, they’ll make a bizarre comparison like “you sound like this character from such-and-such” or “this reminds me of such-and-such from this-or-that.”

whenever they watch an animated shoujo series (or a drama whether it be an original or adapted series), they really get into the opening and ending themes to the point where they’d start singing it whenever it comes on and not even realize they’re doing it. the first time shishio heard samejima sing was when she introduced him to a series she really liked and he was so surprised that all he could do was compare what she’d done to a shoujo stare. like “you never told me you could sing” and samejima’s like “you never asked. besides. i really like this song" or she’d shove a pillow in his face because she can’t handle that look of his

sometimes i like to imagine at the end of the chapter, when shishio asks samejima out because we all know he did, she agrees, but then she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, perhaps just as passionately as he’d kissed her the night before, and says something like “that’s payback for before.”

samejima likes to play in shishio’s hair. maybe it’s the style that captivates her or that she wants to know if it’s as soft as it looks or that compared to her own curly, unmanageable hair she finds his much more likeable. whatever the case is, she doesn’t give it too much thought. sometimes, she does it while they’re curled up in his bed when he’s stuck between dozing off and grading papers.

shishio has a scar on his forehead from when he’d saved yukichi and wound up in the hospital, and samejima asks about it when she finds it from playing in his hair. of course, there’s some angst surrounding it because that was also the day he was rejected by suzume, but samejima is patient and after he tells her everything, she kisses his scar and thanks him (because she knows in her heart of hearts that talking about his past isn’t easy but he’s doing it for both his own and her sake).

somehow, samejima’s coworkers find out she has a boyfriend (it’s through kaneishi gorou actually, who’d seen her on a date with shishio) and beg for her to introduce them. samejima’s never really been into the dating scene, as she was more interested in her job, but everyone had noticed that little things started to change about her like her mood and such. reluctantly, she introduces him at one of her company’s parties and they never let her live it down, always asking how he’s doing or when’s he coming back.

shishio takes the whole thing in stride. even when he’s bombarded with a million and one questions like “how on earth did you manage to convince samejima-san to go out with you” or “you two seem like total opposites,” etc., shishio just has this nonchalant grin on his face. either her boss or one of her close coworkers sidles up to him and tells him about samejima prior to meeting him, like how she was always a loner and to herself but was always honest and polite, didn’t really smile much or that even though she loves her job she works too hard and could use a break from time to time. and they thank shishio for bringing samejima out of her shell. it’s all really sweet and adorable and when they get home, samejima apologizes for her coworkers’ behavior, but shishio doesn’t mind and instead thanks her for bringing him and tells her how much all her coworkers appreciate, like, and admire her (and how he does too). queue sweet, passionate kisses in their apartment.