April fools is great tbh but I just make silly little pranks, that said I won't be doing anything at all on tumblr because I'm still new here and find tumblr as more of a comfort place than other social media platforms. My discord server on the other hand is not safe from my minor pranks. not safe at all *evil laugh*
Important Announcement:
April Fools Day (April 1) is one week away. To that end, I just want it known now, well before the day, that this blog will NOT be posting any jump scares, fake announcements, freak-out posts, fake hackings, fake emergencies, fake news, and “gotcha!” stuff on April Fools Day. We’re staying safe and chill around here.
I’m honestly not into April Fools Day, really, unless the jokes are obvious and silly–like Rickrolls and Dad Jokes. Rickrolls and Dad Jokes are just traditional.
Back at it again, making random memes by badly editing like 2 things
hello it’s my birthday and I haven’t left bed yet bc I feel too nauseous. We have no food, our fridge is empty. Can someone help me out with getting groceries? I’m a black transmasc lesbian and today kinda sucks lol help me make it suck a little bit less
my ppal
0/30
Over 100 journalists have been killed in Gaza since October 7th.
Guess who's going on an amasai writing binge
Me
@amasaiweek day 3: family/forgiveness
*sigh* alright here we go
Tw for: knives/scalpels, blood, death/dead bodies, literally the whole thing is angst so look out
Lots of spoilers for @kagazuly 's beta au fic!! Don't read if you haven't gotten past chapter 3!!
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There was a blade pressed against Shuichi's throat.
It had all happened so quickly. He had gone to check on the medic in the warehouse, and-
And there was a hand on his wrist, and a sudden falling, and a weight on his chest so that he could just barely breathe if he made his breaths shallow enough. And there was the sharp, bitter sting of the knife at his throat.
Shuichi was going to die, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. All because of- he looked up at his killer's face- Rantaro?
Rantaro?
But-
But he was our leader, the person most dedicated to ending the game, the violinist thought. We trusted him more than we trusted ourselves and each other.
It was all an act, then, huh? He got us to trust him, and now he's going to kill me and escape, probably.
He looked up at the green-haired man's face again. His eyes were wild, feral, as if he was driven by instinct rather than his morals. An idea came to Shuichi. Could... Monokuma have brought back the Despair Disease? No, I'd think that repeating the same motive twice would be too boring for Monokuma... Then, did Rantaro have it all this time since looking after the patients, and managed to fool even the mastermind into thinking he didn't have it?
The blade pressed closer to Shuichi's neck, and he felt warm blood slide down onto the floor beneath him.
This was not the Rantaro he knew.
Memories of the previous trial came flooding to him, of Himiko's dismembered body, the blood spilling in a scarlet puddle on the tile, stained weapons scattered around, Angie's crazed face when the others figured out she had the Bloodlust Disease. The man above Shuichi looked like that now, ruined by his own Bloodlust Disease.
He was going to die.
Shuichi was going to die.
Hesitantly, he looked the medic in the eyes. "R-Rantaro?"
Time seemed to stop for a moment.
Rantaro's breathing slowed. Shuichi felt the blade slip away from him, and the medic put what Shuichi could now see was a scalpel in his pocket.
Rantaro let out a sigh, shut his eyes, and stood back up, turning to face whatever he'd been doing before. He paused and, without looking back, tossed an alcohol wipe from his pocket to Shuichi.
"Sorry. I thought you were going to kill me. Use this, it'll clean up the wound, and there's plenty of bandages in my lab," he said nonchalantly.
"You... You thought I was going to kill you?!"
The blonde boy stood.
"Dont think I'm gonna forgive you that easily, Rantaro."
"Fine."
"I... I COULD HAVE DIED!!'
"If you're just going to yell at me, go work your issues out with Kiyo. I'm the medic here, not the therapist."
He turned his head to look at Shuichi.
"Besides," he said in a stern yet ominous whisper, "it's not like I havent killed anyone before."
Shuichi froze in terror. "W-Wha-"
"Even medics have to kill to survive, sometimes. War is war. I'm not the only one, either. Most of us have been the cause of another's death, in one way or another. We're all killers, Shuichi. Killers all crammed into one place, under circumstances that mean we can't help but distrust each other, no matter how much we try to tell ourselves we have allies. Reminds me of the battlefield, now that I think about it."
What... was Rantaro saying?... They couldn't... trust anyone, that was true, but...
He took a few cautious steps toward the doorway and was going to leave, when he heard the medic speak again.
"Hey, Shuichi?"
"What?"
"You said you won't forgive me, right?"
"Um, yeah."
"See what I mean?"
"What?"
"You see, Shuichi,
"There's no forgiveness on the battlefield."
Beta @amasaiweek day 5: lullaby/silence
I'll post days 3 and 4 probably either today or tomorrow- I've had a headache and it's taking away from my art/writing motivation
Also those two days are gonna be hella angsty so look out
@kagazuly au credit
No trigger warnings, just fluff
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Rantaro Amami, the one the others all knew as the Ultimate War Medic, wandered the halls of the school he'd known for just a couple weeks but that already felt like a home. Not that he'd really miss this place, once his research paid off and they could finally end the killing game for good. He just liked to enjoy the little good things in all this while they lasted, like Miu and Kirumi's homemade breakfasts and Kaito's dumb card game. Like the time they all changed into comfortable clothes to spite Monokuma. Like when Miu and Angie teamed up to paint memories for those who couldn't let them go. Like the occasional therapy meetings they could always count on to raise their hopes. Those one-on-one sessions with...
Korekiyo.
Tsumugi's kille-
No. The medic stopped himself. It won't matter, past tomorrow. We'll create an unsolvable mystery, him and I, and the mastermind will have no choice but to reveal themselves. And when that happens, all of us will stop this cruel game together, and we'll be free to escape and live our lives as we want. Whether that be together or not.
It was then that the sound of his footsteps was accompanied by another, softer sound. Violin. Shuichi's lab was abuzz with the music, most likely being played for himself or Kirumi. Rantaro creeped closer, not wanting his steps to overshadow the beautiful, hopeful melody.
He sat and leaned against the wall, sighing. This late at night, the music was welcome among the usual dead silence and despair in the halls. It was a light, a light that made the darkness around him feel... warm. Peaceful. Something he hadn't felt since the beginning of this cruel game.
It would all be over tomorrow.
So why not enjoy what's left today?
He had come this far, after all. He deserved a little break.
He shut his eyes and let the soft melody slowly lull him to sleep.
...
The blonde boy stepped carefully out of his lab for the night, not wanting to wake anyone up. Closing the door behind him, he realized a shadowy figure lay against the wall nearby. A body? A person waiting to kill him? The mastermind? His mind raced, but the shadow didn't move. He decided to investigate and saw... Rantaro? The person who'd been holed up in Ryoma's lab all these days, barely seen by the others? Out here in the open? And he was fast asleep, too. Not at all like how he normally acted.
If they wanted to, he thought, the mastermind could kill Rantaro right now, make it look like I or another person did it. He's so vulnerable out here, and he's an important part of our group, and- Shuichi sat down next to the medic, determined to keep watch over him for the night.
Although he must have fallen asleep sometime, he knew, or else he wouldn't have woken up with his head leaning on Rantaro's shoulder.
What if there was a scented candle company called common scents (like common sense yknow) and all the candles smell like stupid shit like "hand sanitizer" and "microwave bag corn"
agsgdhxkfkdsmzjnxjd fischl came home today
That's it that's the post
Fucking hell, what a tragedy. He has an incomplete spinal injury, meaning he still has sensation, so maybe it’s possible he could walk again after rehab? Still, just awful
Color Palette Series day 8: Kanna Kizuichi (YTTD/Your Turn to Die)
stop it stop gaining power foul creature
Brain cell 1: oi we're behind on amasai week make amasai things
Brain cell 2: hehehehe what if nagito tartaglia
Proof
18+ • ignore everything here its stupidly old • he/they • no reposting my things without credit • call me clover
87 posts