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#aman gets asks
thegetoufather · 10 months
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aman...... the way that i JUST remembered that i never finished my piece for the movieverse collab 😭😭😭😭 i was just like "oh whats this!" in my google docs then was like ...
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anyways i miss u ! i hope ur thriving <33
BEANIE!!!!
dont be embarassed my collab piece has so much dust on it at this point ahsjdks i feel bad my life got crazy and i just let everyone in that collab down my deepest apologizes :’)
I miss you too!!! I hope everythings been well with you!!!
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iamhereinthebg · 5 months
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Haven't they broken several rules they've established just for everything to revolve around Tsukasa? Like...
1. A mystery can't be defeated in their own boundary (and yet Tsukasa somehow ripped Kako's heart out in his own boundary)
2. You can't use your tsueshiro in a boundary without permission (and yet Tsukasa ordered his to hold down Mirai)
3. Nobody could move because the school's time was frozen (yet Tsukasa did, as well as Yashiro, and Hanako who if I remember correctly suddenly unfroze on his own to break down into tears)
The earlier chapters were way better at following previously established rules and concepts compared to whatever's going on right now
They did ! :))) (want to explode)
I can understand the idea that Tsukasa is a rule breaker, he did destroy the previous n°3 in his own boundary too and it was an interesting twist! I can understand the idea and why it can be interesting, but the way AidaIro using all others characters/plots to make him stand out is just terrible. Dirsregarding rules is not a new thing about AidaIro unfortunately but Tsukasa really wins all medals on breaking them.
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As you said, he was able to move when time was stopped and for which reason?? We don't know. Hanako was able to move once Akane and Teru got to him, probably because Akane is a clock keeper and can somehow give the permission to people to move.
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I said it before and I will say it again, but wanting to show a character is powerful/cool by making the others characters look stupid is terrible writing, and that's the feeling I got with Tsukasa in general. (and chapter 109 is just a whole sequence of the characters being made fun of)
We don't know where to stand because he has every kind of tropes attached to him. They want us to understand he is some kind of martyr who is 'omg poor lil Tsukasa who was so selfless at only 4yo boohoo' (no matter which translation I read for the red house arc, he is believable somehow with Kou but then we get the flashbacks with Amane and it's gone). They put him in an 'angel' position and naive position in a lot of aus, want us so bad to understand deep down he is a nice boy. When we watched him do every possible horrors on screen. And don't get me wrong, I don't mind this, it's cool. Him forcing Mitsuba to eat, creating him, the way he treats some characters... It's the way they are not doing that to other characters who is so strange in my opinon. They know how to handle grey characters like Hanako or Teru (from the reader's pov) so I don't why they try so hard to put Tsukasa in a good light.
He is not a believable kid character in the red house arc, being smarter than Kou and Nene is not making him cool, it's just making Kou and Nene absolute idiots.
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Him destroying his shackles thanks to Mirai power? It's not him being clever, it's Mirai and the clock keepers being made fun of. Him knowing what Hanako should be doing by using Nene? Not making Tsukasa cool, it's making Nene just as an object for Hanako's love, and to get a reaction out of him, most of the time by making Hanako look stupid. (I could go hours on why Nene is just here to serve as a mean to Hanako's character since some arc rather than being her own person but that's for another day)...
I understand that Tsukasa is like 'the antagonist and should be some steps ahead of the portagonist' but it's just so repitive in the way he is unpredicatble that it became boring and predictable. I was overjoyed to see him like this in chapter 108. (which was let's be honest the only good chapter in this new arc)
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Tsukasa is really good here, which is why the drop of quality in chap 109 is even worst. Seeing a new side of him as a supernatural and his sorrow/hatred for Amane is really great. He even moralizes Nene about why sometimes you just need/have to get yourself out of situations alone, and that's how he himself proceeds because his brother never went to see him in 50 years. That he had no choice but to do so. It's great! Really great! To see that he is also an unpredicatble character and who decides to do what he wants not taking people's opinions in mind, because even his older never helped him when he called for him during all this time. It adds a good layer to his character and seeing him weaker/not really knowing what to do is something we desesperatly need for his chacter. But as everything in chap 108, chap 109 throws it out of the window and goes back to the usual ' we have set ups but terrible pay offs' things that has been happening a lot in the recent arcs.
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He is also way too OP. As you said suddenly his tsueshiros could move again and he got rid of Kako. Even Hakubo and Teru being ones of the most powerful characters, were defeated once, Tsukasa never was seriously. It's never explained why he is so powerful (probably because he has an entity inside him/he eats others supernaturals) but the difference of levels is just insane, and absolutely not compelling to read.
We don't know why he is doing what he is doing and they try so hard to make him mysterious. They want us to get to know him without saying anything relevant or his backstory. We are left with whole chapters of absolutely nothing. Welp too bad I am not patient enough to see Tsukasa doing random stuff when half of the characters have rushed characters development or none because 'there isn't much time'.
AidaIro want us to understand they love him and that we should too but they are just destroying every other characters rather than make him loveable.
I hate what they did with his character, his role is terrible because it's destroying eveyone else's. Tsukasa is the favorite and it shows, but it's so badly done that I can't help but hate him.
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good-beans · 3 months
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Concept that just popped into my head: Milgram characters doing "get ready with me" videos
Aw, this was so fun!! I always love your hc style of normal au/everyone's chilling, and tried to go the same route -- it was so cute to think about :D
Haruka: Puts on his outfit for the day and explains everything in great detail. He has lots of comfortable items and fun colors. At the very end he speaks off-camera and you realize Muu was standing there cheering him on the whole time. He gets a lot of encouraging comments, and Muu and Fuuta keep an eye on the account to delete any nasty ones that may come in.
Yuno: Shows her outfit, makeup, nails, and bag she’s taking with her. She tries out a variety of styles (not just sticking to the more feminine looks we see in canon). She gives a bit of a tutorial and tips as well as showing things off. Has a main account for her daytime outfits, and a more private one for her nighttime looks. Mahiru is the only one aware of the latter account.
Fuuta: Layers. Lots of layers. There will be three sweatshirts laid out in front of him and you wonder which he’s going to choose before realizing he’s putting them all on. He focuses most on his sneakers and sportswear. He plays loud music over the videos, not knowing what to say. Has gotten into comment-section arguments over those yellow socks.
Muu: Also does a full look at her appearance: nails, accessories, etc. She mentions where you can buy everything, and it’s unclear whether she was sponsored by these brands or is just excited to talk about them. (Whether they’re actually together or not,) she’ll have Haruka on as a guest a lot to show off couple’s outfit ideas. She definitely has the biggest following, and loves recommending Haruka and the others’ accounts.  
Shidou: He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but his account is getting tons of views so the others keep encouraging him to make videos. He’s just glad to be connecting with the other prisoners as they show him how to do it. He dresses in a mix of the sleek patterned shirts and dad fits, and both types of videos are equally popular. 
Mahiru: None of the serious-faced flirts or little pouty faces – it’s all smiles for her. Every video is basically a full tutorial – she has captions and a voiceover giving commentary on everything. She has the next biggest following, and interacts constantly. She loves getting questions “what should I wear on an x type date?” “How do I dress to impress x type of person?” because she always comes up with the perfect outfit to help. 
Kazui: A bit confused as well, though he does know a lot about style. His interro question makes it seem like he wanted kids – I think he’d really get into the account as one of those “Dad How Do I” types. He talks about matching things, clothes upkeep, shaving/hairstyling. 
Amane: Also wouldn’t have made the videos without prompting from the others, but enjoys it a lot. She usually talks about practical things instead of “vain” fashion: she’s excited to show off a new raincoat, sturdy shoes, useful pockets, etc. Over time, she leans into outfits that are more cute and colorful, gaining confidence in them. 
Mikoto: He started the account as something for one of his design classes, and got really into it. He likes to challenge himself with unique styles and clothing articles, making pretty much anything work. He keeps everything professional in case an employer/coworker sees, but isn’t afraid to add some flirting and flaunting in there. If he’s open about his plurality, he’ll have some special videos, “choosing an outfit for John today!”
Kotoko: Like Amane, she’s more excited about practical outfits. She’ll show off clothes that have good flexibility, places to store and conceal objects, and heavy duty materials. She’ll rate jackets, boots, and other “military-grade” things for what has worked best for her. She’s very attentive to the accounts that follow her – she does full background checks to make sure her info is being used for justice, not more crime. Mahiru convinces her to do a special where she puts all her piercings in and talks about why she chose them/what they mean.
Es: Experiments with a lot of new styles, trying to figure out what they like. They also just play music in the back, not having much to say about each outfit. They'd rather focus on their series of dressing-up-Jackalope videos, much to his dismay...
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good-beanswrites · 6 months
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If it's okay with you, could you write a drabble about the hypothetical aftermath of Amane getting attacked by Kotoko?
Welp thank you pal for making me absolutely insane with this request 👍 I ran through a few hypotheticals and realized I had to shift some things around since there were so many absolutely tragic outcomes. I worked something out but damn if it didn’t make me emotional to think about how uniquely rough Amane has it. Even making sure she's in a good place at the end, this got pretty serious, so warnings for child abuse and cult references. 
(So in canon, Kotoko goes in order and attacks Fuuta, but Kazui steps in. Then she attacks Mahiru while he’s distracted with his injuries. She’s about to attack Amane, but Mikoto gets in the way (my hc that he did it on purpose survives!). By the time they reach a draw, Kazui is back, and the two of them can prevent Kotoko from any further action against Amane. Sticking to this apparent system of three attacks and one rescue, I’m just shuffling around the injuries for this story. Fuuta’s attack went unnoticed, and he’s in the same state as canon Mahiru. Mikoto steps in before Kotoko can fight Mahiru, so Mappi’s the one who get out physically unscathed. While Mikoto checks on Mahiru, recovers himself, or discovers Fuuta, Kotoko is able to attack Amane next. Kazui comes to help, but not before she leaves Amane looking like canon Fuuta.)
Mahiru could practically feel her heart shatter into a million pieces when Amane finally cried in front of her. She hadn’t shed a single tear yesterday – it was the shock, Shidou said. Mahiru was skeptical. After all, she had been shocked, too, and cried plenty.
Amane woke as she came in with breakfast. She took a moment to survey herself, bandages peeking out from beneath her pajamas and an eyepatch securely over her right eye. As calmly as one might say “good morning,” she started to cry. Mahiru might have missed it, if Amane hadn’t wiped at her good eye with her sleeve.
“Oh, sweetheart…!” Mahiru rushed over to her. “It’s okay, I’m here.” She wanted nothing more than to wrap the girl in a secure embrace, but she remembered the mass of bandages that were around her chest. Shidou had mentioned broken ribs and bruises. It took everything in her not to cry along with Amane, at the thought.
“I can get you another ice pack, if you need. Or more medicine.” Her mind spun with ways to help with pain. Many of the first aid supplies had been used to keep Fuuta from the brink of death, but surely there were extras to spare for Amane. 
The girl just shook her head. 
She muttered, “I can’t… I…I’m going to be punished, I’m going to be punished…”
“No! You’re safe now.” Mahiru placed her hands gently on Amane’s arms. “Kotoko’s not coming back. We’re all watching over you. You’re safe. She’s not going to hurt you anymore.” 
“That’s not…” Amane pulled away. Her voice stayed level, despite hiccups interrupting her. A hand reached up to her eyepatch. “It’s this. It’s all of this. It’s sinful. I took it off last night, but he must have…” She started unwrapping it. “They’re going to punish me...” 
With a careful motion, Mahiru held it in place and took Amane’s hands into her own. She’d been picking up on the signs ever since they arrived here together, and a final wave of understanding washed over her. 
“I can’t let you do that.”
Amane’s expression twisted, though words came out far more frantic than fiery. “Let me go.” 
Mahiru didn’t. “I’m sorry. Amane, you need this treatment.”
“That is not your decision to make. That is not any human’s decision to make.”
Mahiru pressed her lips together. “I know. But I can’t watch as you… I can’t sit by again while someone…” She was careful not to apply any pressure, but she could no longer fight the urge to gather Amane up in her arms. “You don’t need to be afraid of those people, anymore.”
“I’m not afraid.” Amane hiccuped. “They love me, and I love them. I need to be good for them.”
“I love you, and I don’t want to see you in pain.”
“You just pity me because I’m young.”
“Why does your age matter? You are a lovely young woman – you are my friend – and I can’t bear to see you in pain.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. Mahiru doubted she would take that as an answer; Amane had refused to call any of the others her friend. At least she didn’t argue. In fact, it seemed she was leaning into the embrace a bit more. She sighed a shaky breath into Mahiru’s uniform.
“Listen, Amane. Can you do me a favor? I’m trying to be a good girl, too. To make up for something awful, I need to make sure you’re alright. Can you help me? Can we be good together?”
A long pause followed. Amane’s voice spoke up, ever so gently.
“I suppose I can consider it.” She added quickly, “for the sake of your redemption. Of course.”
“Of course.”
#milgram#amane momose#mahiru shiina#thank you so much! i dont want to be bubbly on such a serious drabble but i want to give an enthusiastic thanks because this one really got#the gears turning!!#i started making plans as soon as i saw the ask and it took so long finding something that wouldnt result in straight up tragedy :(#if i kept to the initial timeline and said kazui didnt step in until amanes attack then both fuuta and mahiru would be close to death#and given there seems to limited supplies i think one of them would have died if shidou needed to treat three critical patients#so i moved people around to make sure everyone survived#which brought me to the main problem of amane self sabotaging her medical care#even minor injuries could have resulted in death if she got her way and removed bandages/refused treatment#but the mental strain of keeping the treatment would be just as bad as the physical pain -- shed be paranoid 24/7 of#divine punishment and repeating the mistakes that led her here.... it would hurt more to be forced like that#so i needed someone to be able to get through to her gently#but the only one who shes been able to trust just got the shit beat out of him and is in no position to talk!!!!#everyone else would just make her more upset or not know how to convince her the right way :(#still - i think mahiru could do it the best! with her own trauma from allowing loved ones to die in front of her i think shed be motivated#so. yeah.#i know amane is supposed to be talking in the plural pronoun now but i couldnt get it to work - lets just say that kicks in soon after this#tw cults#tw child abuse#drabbles
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es-quest · 4 months
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*sarcastic grin* I'm not sure that putting someone on a chain like a pet is a good gift.
"...It was for me." ...
You hear the sound of leaves rustling through the wind.
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pickletrip · 7 months
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When I started watching If it's with you I never expected to be so invested in these wonderful characters. This is what I have been missing in some of the shows I've been watching. Ryuji-kun never belittled Amane for who he was and he never assumed anything about Amane either. He kept an open ear, he noticed, he observed and he came to understand who Amane was as a person. They had a great rapport as friends. But when Amane confessed Ryuji didn't push him away but took time to think about it, talk to Amane and find his own feelings in all this. Talk about maturity. None of the adults are doing it like my 2 favourite boys.
Amane always wrapped himself up in the fear of the past repeating. The fear of rejection was always lurking around but being with Ryuji gave him freedom because Ryuji could see past the facade he put up to deal with the pain he was feeling. Ryuji helped him overcome that fear by reassuring him that he is allowed to be who he wants to be. Ryuji gave him real confidence, not to say that Amane wasn't confident before, but now he could be free to express himself knowing that there's at least one person who would accept him as he was.
This final episode was everything I wanted from the show. Both of them were nervous and anxious and they took the time to talk and understand where they are in this relationship. That's the beauty of the show. Each time Amane was on the verge of running away, Ryuji always pulled him back, grounded him and spoke to him so that they would be on the page.
The honesty between them is something I really cherish. Ryuji never made any false promises to love Amane but he honestly expressed how he was feeling and what he expected going forward and that aligned with Amane, because that's what dating means. You take the time to fall in love and discover things about the other person.
I wasn't ready for this show to be over, but I'm so happy with the way it ended that I couldn't ask for more. This show has shot up to the top of my Japanese BL list. I'll cherish this show and these boys.
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aneshipping · 5 months
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omg you like milgram too....!! - @seafoamselfships
mhm mhm!! been since amanes first trial! who's your favorite :3
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tathrin · 11 months
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Ehehe, hello, I am here to feed the procrastination gremlin! Those prompts all sound fun, but 21 and 28 are speaking to my heart rn.
Maybe 36 to if you feel up for it but it's your writing and you decide how many you wanna do<3
The procrastination gremlin thanks your mightily! Because I tend to Get Too Long when I write thing, I'm going to preemptively separate these out into their own posts and just assume that I'll ramble too much for it to make sense to do them all in one lmao. Also I will definitely do all three because yes more gimleaf yes. This is an ask meme that I will literally always be accepting prompts for (although if somebody sees this in the tag in like a month or so and wants to send one in, maybe include some context so that I know what that random number I just got in my inbox means? lmao). So, prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time. Literally.
#21....on a place of insecurity.
Gimli stared at his reflection in the round silver mirror, his hands paused even though his braids were still half-undone. "Do you ever wish that we had crossed the Sea sooner?" he asked.
Legolas blinked at him, cocking his head in that familiar birdlike tilt of confusion that Gimli knew so well.
"Sooner?" Legolas repeated. "How could we have come sooner?" A frown furrowed his smooth, beardless face; a temporary crinkling of skin that would never show the faintest wrinkle. "You mean before Aragorn died?"
"You're right," Gimli sighed. He tugged at his braids, their once-bright copper laced so heavily with strands of silver that he sometimes felt like he had just walked out of a snowfall. "We could not have, of course. But...do you ever wish..."
"Leaving sooner would not have spared us the pain of his death," Legolas said quietly. "It would only have meant that we would not have been there for him when it happened; only have meant that we would not have been there for Arwen or their children either. Knowing of his death only from stories brought by later travelers would not have spared us anything, I do not think; knowing of his death without having been there ourselves would, I think, have only made it hurt the worse, my dear."
"Yes," Gimli said, "yes, of course. I did not mean—"
He stopped. Legolas had walked up behind him and bent down to look over Gimli's shoulder into the mirror. It should have looked awkward, the sight of Legolas's long spine arced at such an angle, but elves were spindly, lithesome creatures. Wood-elves in particular seemed to be as supple and spritely as saplings, and Gimli had yet to witness Legolas contort himself into a position that strained his pliant bones.
"Gimli," Legolas said, "what is wrong?"
"Nothing," Gimli said. He lowered his eyes and his fingers both, twisting his remaining braids into place as quickly as he could without mussing the pattern of the plaits or dropping strands. He scowled, even though he knew that doing so would only deepen the wrinkles that already lined his eyes. "Nothing is wrong."
Long, smooth fingers pressed gently on his own calloused ones until they stilled. Gimli looked down at the overlap of those long digits across his own, the one set brown and spindly as twigs yet unblemished by time or strife; the other pale as underground mushrooms and gnarled by both time and heavy forge-work.
"Gimli," Legolas said. "Tell me."
Gimli turned his hand so that he could enfold those long brown fingers in his own and gave Legolas's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing is wrong, my love," he said again. "I am only feeling melancholy this morning, it seems. Think no more upon it."
He raised the elf's ageless hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to those smooth knuckles, then released it so that he could continue with his braids.
Legolas did not rise. Instead he dropped lower to fold his arms across the back of Gimli's chair, his bright eyes studying the sight of the dwarf before him in the mirror. Gimli avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the intricate plaits that hung from his chin, but he could feel the weight of Legolas's eyes passing over his face, searching for the answers that Gimli would not give him.
He did not find them.
"Will you not tell me?" Legolas asked at last. His voice was soft, his eyes full of sorrow. "Please?"
Gimli sighed and let the braid in his hands droop loose and unfinished down his chest.
He looked up into the mirror again at last and met Legolas's searching, worried eyes there. He looked at that smooth, beardless, beloved face waiting there behind him; unchanging and unchanged from the day they had first met so long ago and far away in Rivendell.
His eyes flicked sideways to his own reflection, to the wrinkles that time had carved beneath his beard; to the strands of silver that wove through the bright copper braids that hung before him. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the mirror, to the sight of the lines around his eyes, and sighed.
"I would not be so old," Gimli said quietly, "if we had come sooner; that is all. I only wonder if you wish, sometimes, that we had. That is all."
Time did not pass in Aman the way it did in other places; or if it did, then it did not feel as though it did, and it carried no trace of decay with it. Gimli had not aged a day since they had first set foot upon these white shores—but he had aged two hundred and sixty-two years before that.
He was still hale and hearty, for dwarves—especially the dwarves of Durin's line—often lived many years longer than that, and rarely weakened before the very ending of their days came upon them. But he was no spritely youngster of sixty-two, either, moping because his father had deemed him too young to go along on a Quest; nor was he a mature youth of not quite one hundred and forty, boldly striding forward at last upon a Quest of his own, all bright brown eyes and ruddy copper beard.
Gimli was old, now, and he looked it. He could see it every morning when he looked in the mirror to do his braids, or every afternoon when he caught sight of his reflection in the cooling barrels at the forge or in some clear, still pool that held Aman's crystal waters. He could see it, and he knew Legolas could as well; how could he not, when he was surrounded by the contrast of all the smooth, beardless, ageless faces of his people?
"Are you tired?" Legolas asked, and his light voice was a dry croak. Shadows as thick as Mordor's fogs filled his eyes, and Gimli turned from the mirror with a cry and caught Legolas's hands with his own.
"No!" he cried. He knew that Legolas was not asking after Gimli's slumber, or weariness from working the forge; was not asking about anything as simple as a day's ordinary exhaustion. He was asking if Gimli was tired of life; if he was tired of eternity. If he was ready, at long last, to claim the gift of his own mortality.
"Legolas, no," Gimli said, squeezing those spindly fingers so tightly that had they been the frail twigs they seemed they would have snapped beneath the pressure of his grip—but elvish flesh was strong, so much stronger than it looked. So were dwarven spirits, and Gimli had no intention of ever growing weary of the world, not so long as Legolas was in it. "I promise," he assured his elf, raising first one hand and then the other to his lips. "Never, Legolas. I am here with you, and I always will be."
Legolas's smile trembled, but it was a smile. Gimli counted it as a victory, and pulled the elf up out of his crouch and into Gimli's lap. He had too much leg to fit on such a short chair, of course, but the two of them were used to that problem; it was no effort at all to fall into the long habits that had his ankles curling sideways under the chair, his elvish flexibility making easy work of the awkward position.
"Then what troubles you?" Legolas asked. He snaked his long arms around Gimli's shoulders and leaned his beardless cheek down to rest upon Gimli's head. "My love, please. Tell me."
"I am old, Legolas," Gimli said. He unwrapped one hand from the elf's slender waist to press his fingers to the cobweb of wrinkles beside his eyes. "You can see it plainly on my face. Old, as no one else in Aman ever will be."
"Bilbo is old," said Legolas.
Gimli rolled his eyes. "Yes, all right," he said. "And Sam, too. But aside from them, everyone else here is an elf—"
"Or a maia," Legolas interrupted. "Or one of the Valar. Or—"
"My point," Gimli cut him off loudly, "is that age is writ across my face in ways that elvish faces do not age. I am only sorry, my dear, that I can do nothing to erase those lines, these streaks of silver; only sorry that you cannot spend eternity beside a dwarf in his prime of life, but must instead contend with these wearisome wrinkles."
Legolas drew away far enough that he could gape down at Gimli. "Wearisome?" he repeated. "Sorry? Gimli!"
"I know, I know," Gimli soothed, "it is a little enough thing, I suppose, and I am not ungrateful; I am only sorry for your sake, my dear—"
"Sorry!" Legolas said again. "Gimli, you everlasting fool of a dwarf! Is this what you've been fretting over all this time?
"...Yes?"
"Gimli!" Legolas squawked. "Oh, my beloved idiot! I feared you were growing tired of forever, and were going to have to leave me! Instead you've just been pouting over how handsome you are?"
"Handsome!" Gimli exclaimed. "Legolas, enough. I am sorry beyond words that I made you worry, but that is no call to mock me—"
"I do not mock," Legolas said. His lilting voice for once was as firm as stones. "I adore every inch of you, Gimli. Yes, even the wrinkles; yes, even the silver in your beard!" He shook his head, scowling down at his dwarf. "Perhaps especially the silver in your beard, for it gleams like mithril in the moonlight, even as the ancient lights of lost Trees are said to still gleam in the locks of the Lady Galadriel, oh Lockbearer!"
Gimli sputtered, heat rising fast in his cheeks. He tried to push the elf away, but Legolas tightened his grip upon his shoulders and refused to be budged from Gimli's knees.
"And your wrinkles," he continued in a softer voice, "are the signs that our years together have etched upon your face, even as your clever hands carve beauty into simple metal and plain rocks. How could I help but love them, when they trace our story out upon your face for all to see?" Legolas leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the sparkle of crows-feet that framed first one eye and then the other, then traced the deep tracks that lines Gimli's mouth and nose beneath his beard. Finally he raised Gimli's hand and pressed a long kiss to those ruddy, wrinkled fingers.
"Legolas, I...I feel I've been a fool," Gimli murmured. He found himself once again unable to meet Legolas's eyes, this time because of the blush that darkened his cheeks with a blaze of hot mortification.
"You have been," Legolas agreed, "but fortunately I knew you for a fool long before I knew you for anything else, my love, and so I am not bothered overmuch."
A watery laugh spilled from Gimli's lips, and he could not help but smile. "And you are as irritating and irreverent as ever," he retorted.
"Of course I am," Legolas agreed, and hopped up off Gimli's lap and the low chair upon which he sat and grinned down at his dwarf with a twinkling smile. "Some things do not change with the passage of time—but even though my face does not show it, I have very much been changed by knowing you, my dear Gimli, and I would not trade a second of it in exchange for a single lifted wrinkle or silvered hair."
"Well," Gimli said, "I am glad to hear it, and sorry now that I did not voice my concerns sooner."
"So am I!" said Legolas. "But I cannot hold it against you when I did not voice mine either, although in my case it was because I feared to pressure you into extending your time in life beyond your own comfort for my sake alone."
Gimli stood and took his elf's hands in his and held them tight. "Forever is only barely enough time to spend at your side, Legolas," he said, "but as it is all the time the world will give us, I will take it; but I will accept not a second less than that, and would not see that time shortened for any reason even if it was only for your own comfort, and not my own. I can think of no greater purpose for one's life than to bring comfort to one whom I so love."
Legolas beamed down at him, his pale eyes bright with unshed tears. "Well!" he said. "That is all sorted, then!"
"Indeed it is," Gimli agreed. He knew that the smile spreading behind his beard was the sort of soft, misty-eyed grin that Peregrin Took had always labeled "absurdly sappy," but he could not help himself; he felt as though he was fairly brimming-over with love, and he could not contain himself from letting it show upon his face, erstwhile sappiness be damned.
"In that case," Legolas said, his damp gaze dancing suddenly with dry mischief, "let me get you out of that tunic and into our bed and I will find all your other wrinkles and properly express my love for them, too."
Gimli decided he could finish his braids later.
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oboetemasuka · 5 months
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WAIT Amane being the one to discover Fuuta after the attack is killing me OUCH
(Once again parallels of going back and finding the cat is gone/your friend is attacked)
Ouch, the cat parallels.
Thanks for the ask, which I have taken as an invitation to write a fic.
It compelled me to push aside my other things just to take a crack at it. This thing took an hour, and it's only 232 words? How do you do it?
This could go a number of ways, but maybe I really should get back to other things before exploring this further.
(Currently thinking of calling the whole thing "Order of Attack", but it sounds like something an edgy teen would call it)
Warnings for canon-typical violence and Amane's cult mindset.
(The "read more" can't stay in place... Let's try to make it stay in place)
Amane walked across the panopticon, towards Fuuta’s cell. She was concerned that he was getting worse since last time. That time, the voices in his head were so loud that she could practically hear them from the way he argued against them. Those stupid voices… It took a lot of strength for her to ignore them, and she hoped she could lend Fuuta some strength to do the same. Maybe he would accept these teachings this time.
Standing in front of Fuuta’s cell, she ran her speech through her mind one last time. Then she took a deep breath and pushed the cell door open.
She saw Fuuta crash into the wall before slumping onto the ground. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, and there was quite a bit of blood around his head. He seemed to be unconscious. Who could have-
Kotoko walked over Fuuta’s unconscious form and let out a chuckle before muttering something that Amane couldn’t make out. This scene felt awfully familiar.
Amane realized she had to go and get someone to help, but her legs gave away. The soft thud caught Kotoko’s attention.
Amane had to say something, anything, loud enough, but her voice dried up in her throat.
Kotoko looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Amane.
-
A scream rang throughout the panopticon, cut short but loud enough to draw attention.
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thegetoufather · 10 months
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Who is that in your pfp? Looks really cool
omg its old ship art of me and eren jaeger from the lovely @fittsythesnail !!!! def comm them if you are able the art gives me so much serotonin
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mikeystrawberry · 4 months
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More design stuff from last night. Completely redesigning this girlie after a major brainwave that fixed a bunch of stuff story-wise as I continue to develop them, so now I’m balancing her design with pink and blue
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good-beans · 6 months
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You talked a little while ago about why you don't think Shidou would make a good father to Amane (agreed) and proposed the idea of Mahiru adopting Amane. That's cute but I want to tell you about my post-MILGRAM headcanon:
Amane joins the Kajiyamas
Not Fuuta specifically adopting her, but like him taking her back to his family's house. I'm sure they'd have a spare room
I think people don't think about Fuuta's homelife much, or if they do they take Fuuta's one interrogation question where he calls his dad an old fogey and assume its like, abusive
And don't get me wrong, I don't think the Kajiyama household are perfect. Fuuta' beautician sister surely hasn't helped when it comes to Fuuta's body image issues and I'm betting they're all a bunch of tsunderes too embarrassed to say they love each other
But in a series where most of the abused characters are still convinced their abuser loved them/acted out of love. Seeing a guy not be afraid to call his dad a loser is almost a green flag
I think it'd be good for Amane to not necessarily be adopted as the lone child to a single parent but get to be introduced to a very different style of family unit from her own One where its normal to express different opinions or disagreements or even have arguments and not have it be the end of the world
Amane already has a snarky side to her, I bet it'd flourish in a brash household like the Kajiyama's (or at least how I imagine them to be)
OOHHH wait I love that so much! >:O
I agree -- I never interpreted Fuuta's family as abusive or harmful, just not super close and struggling a bit after his mother left. (And yeah, all as openly emotional as him😭) They seem stable and very capable to taking in a extra, very well-behaved child. Assuming Fuuta is the way he is because of them, that atmosphere of being very honest and forward would work well for her. They say things as they are, little by little pointing out the harmful parts of her worldview. Like you said, none of them make excuses about harmful behavior stemming from love, so she'd get a really healthy dose of truth in that area. She never feels coddled or treated like a baby. They care for her while treating her very maturely.
I absolutely love how well she and Fuuta get along, with that snarky side to her that you mentioned. It would allow her to fit in well in the new household, getting the sense of belonging she'll lose after leaving the cult. Also, seeing how Fuuta and his sister let things slip and aren't perfect sons/daughters, she'll be able to relax about earning a parent's love through perfect behavior. She'll probably stay exactly the same, but her stress about it will fade <3
I doubt Fuuta's father can ever replace the hole she'll have from her own father, but the addition of an older sister will be huge. Amane will never get the feeling her mother is being replaced, but the woman will still fill the gap of the older, same-gender role model she needs. Her beautician job may throw Amane at first (being an indulgence in vanity), but it isn't as in-your-face as other careers. I think she could definitely ease Amane into accepting it, and over time, accepting her own personal "indulgence."
Plus, her moving in would also be really good for Fuuta! I think he'd recognize there's a ton of fun things she missed out on, and that heroic side of him outweighs the part that cringes: he gripes and groans about going to "kid places," but he's always the one to announce "I can't believe you've never been to __, we're going right now!!" This allows him to touch grass leave the house and experience his own life to the fullest. He's able to channel his desire to help society into a healthier outlet. Also, seeing her studying habits and plans for the future might even inspire him to do the same. (might.) He becomes the stereotypical good big brother, though of course he denies it viciously...
I have recently been going insane over their friendship so I'm completely taken with this idea OUGH thank you for telling me ;-----;
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good-beanswrites · 2 months
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"Prisoner @purgemarchlockdown ! Milgramblrgram has judged you guilty for your crimes! It is time to meet your judgement. As the wardens' fang, I take that responsibility upon myself!" (Aka, Esquest Bad End be upon ye 👊) TW for Amane's cult mindset.
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You open your eyes. 
The temple looks the same as it always has. The thought usually comes as a relief – after a particularly difficult hero, the return to routine is a blessing. Seeing everything back in its place always fills you with a sense of peace. God once explained that all of existence is a circle. Something about eternity and cycles and perfection. You didn’t quite understand, but you enthusiastically told Him that you did. You didn’t want to appear as a clueless child. And anyway, you grew to love the loops. 
But not now. 
This time, your head whips around, looking for something that should be here. Well, it shouldn’t be here, but you expected it to be.
You pace the chamber’s echoing floor, but there’s no sign of it. Did you really expect it to be here? Did you really get your hopes high? You should not have been so naive. The hat isn’t here. How could you have been so stupid?
“What are you looking for?”
You nearly startle at the voice. God stands behind you. He does not sound pleased. 
“N-nothing!”
The word come out in a panic. Then, as you’re struck with the realization that you just lied to God, your eyes drop to the ground. “I mean… it’s nothing of importance.”
He steps closer, and you shy away from His suspicion. 
Despite the glare He shoots up at you, God’s voice is even. “Are you sure?”
“Y-yes. I thought… last time there was…” You take a moment to collect your thoughts. God pauses as you do so. He is always patient with you. He loves you, after all. You inhale. “The last hero tried to change things, but they did not. I knew they couldn’t,” you lie, “so I was just seeing the proof.”
“Yes, they failed. There is nothing to look for here.”
“Of course.”
God leaves you, then. The temple drops into silence. He is right. There is nothing to look for. You aren’t quite sure what emotion you’re left with. Your chest feels as empty as the chamber around you.
The next hero, however, finds out exactly what you were feeling. They take one step into your cell, and you tear them apart. 
It all happens in a moment. It shouldn’t be them walking through the door. You scream, accusing the flailing hero of things they never could have done. You cry, accusing yourself of things you never should have done. You let your claws tear however they please. 
Looking at the mess before you, you feel like the monster everyone feared you were. 
You don’t really care. 
That is, until God appears once more. He looks on the scene with disgust. It’s the type of face the villagers would flash your way before turning away to whisper something. It’s the look you saw from your parents, a silent warning about what was about to follow. You knew this situation was no different. 
You were monstrous, and you would be punished as one. 
“This type of behavior is not why I chose you.” God says. “I chose you to be special.”
“I understand.” 
“Come with me.” 
This was right. This was just.
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Your feet remain stuck. Es...
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No. You do need to do this.
These voices, they were wrong last time. Only one person had proved undoubtedly correct this whole time, and you should have listened to Him from the beginning. 
There is a reason everything is circular. The loops make sense. Routine means perfection. Change never brings anything except pain. This time, you will be good. You will be good enough. 
You follow God.
Your chin is held high. You need no saving form heroes, or voices, or anyone. You’re right where you’re supposed to be. You’re special. You may not be perfect, but that is why you must endure these lessons. God must love you so much, since he is willing to teach them again and again. How patient he must be.
He turns his face away, in time to miss one last tear that slips down your cheek. You hear the smile in his voice. 
“There’s a good girl.”
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es-quest · 5 months
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climbing up the ladder again….. must be tiresome.
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You're not excited for the climb again, but you couldn't find another exit down here. And when Fuuta and you told Amane that the trapdoor was closed, she said "It won't be" and started to climb the ladder.
Fuuta didn't need to turn on the "flashlight" again. (Amane was a good enough flashlight already.) But he was quiet as the two of you followed her.
You Wanted him to shut up earlier, but you wish he would start talking again. It's unnerving having everything be so quiet.
"We're almost there." Amane says.
We are? You look up and you could see light shining from above. The trapdoor open, as if it was always like that.
It took a lot longer last time, your sure of it. Did you lose track of time when you were down here?
Everyone climbs back onto the surface. The sky looks exactly the same as you left it. You suppose you haven't been gone for long.
...Huh
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Were there always flowers here?
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#dang it do i have a new oc now
Sounds like!! I'd love to hear more if you've got it!
(referring to my tags on this post)
You will meet a stranger, sometimes, if you make a habit to frequent taverns, inns, halls for game, or even the one tree where the young Bracegirdle cousins sneak off to play marbles. Well, you will like as not meet many strangers, except in the last case, but this one will be different. Or perhaps you get lucky, and don't frequent such places, but find yourself in one unexpectedly, and meet them regardless.
Everyone in Gondor knows someone who knows someone who met Lady Luck, no one has met her themself. If you do, starry-eyed romantics say, you'll be blessed with good fortune for all your days. The pragmatists tell you you'll be blessed with the good sense to discern a scam.
He may smirk at you after winning a bet, some dark-haired man, using his earnings to buy a round for the bar. It's always a different man, but it always goes to Alwed's tab. It keeps the crowd from getting too rowdy, even if the more superstitious get on edge.
No one remembers meeting them the first time, but dwarves with common sense avoid Audr's shell games and silver-toothed smile- you always win, but it's never worth it.
A woman with greying-gold hair and stiff fingers might call herself Eadrun, and challenge you to a game of dice. Few decline, and far fewer win.
For as few elves remain in Middle Earth, the one who calls himself Herendil and laughs as though his name is a joke should be recognizable. He seems young and lighthearted in a way most have lost, but he will play you cards, win just as much as he loses, and disappear, never recognized.
A hobbit-lass may giggle, red curls gleaming in the sun, and introduce herself as Peony Sandheaver, her family is visiting from Bree, and she wants to see how Shire-hobbits play Jacks.
Sometimes an orc prays over a set of knucklebones, knowing that at least one god will hear one prayer. Orcs have little luck in battle, but uncanny luck with dice.
There are countless stories, just as many true as not. Countless names, far more unnamed figures, always just out of place enough wherever they are to be interesting and promise new tales, never enough to provoke suspicion, not at first.
Even those in the Blessed Realm may find this dark-eyed stranger. Always dark-eyed, like bottles of dark glass. They stop by Aulë's workshop on occasion, to learn and suggest and play new games. They never win the first round, but most have the sense not to bet anything they aren't willing to lose on the second.
Oromë's people call them Umbarnica with a laugh and a toast in welcome. They thrive in the drunken revels after a successful hunt, sharp as ever as they dance from game to game, cackling at ill-advised propositions offered as collateral for or against a bet. Usually this means them winning to avoid it, a frequent enough occurrence as-is, but every now and then they'll decide to let someone get lucky. The bragging rights are the real reward.
And there are no guarantees with this stranger. No way to ensure their favor, though many ways to get their attention, few good. They like irony, take pleasure in hubris reaching its fall. They love superstition, even if they don't always honor it, and they love stories. There are gods that can be mistaken for kind, they are not one of them, created to serve the king the Dark Lord could have been. Their favorites are fickle, their grudges subtle but long-held. They love cheaters, unless they're at the end of the attempt. They will always catch you, and you will always regret it. They slink through candle-shadows and pipe-smoke, grinning, dance in town squares turned to faire grounds, curl up on comfy chairs indoors on rainy days.
But sometimes, in these days, you won't meet a stranger at all. Sometimes your storyteller will get a bright-dark glint in their eyes, and some dice will roll strangely high and some dice will roll strangely low and either way the story will be better for it. And if the next time the group meets you need to take a moment to remind the storyteller exactly what happened last session, well. That's why you take notes.
So pray to the dice-god, card-master, quick-sighted. It might do you no good, but they love superstition, and they love stories. And when you play a dark-eyed stranger, don't cheat at cards.
#ask#cuarthol#umbarnica#my writing#my ocs#they play favorites with the orcs because they feel like they have bad enough luck as is so they throw them some bones#and they like the Narrative of it all#i had fun writing this#they're very amoral not in the sense of being Evil and Bad they just. don't have morals.#they're kinda like a trickster god i think. and they like underdogs but not as much as people think#in my headcanon a lot of powerful maiar were intended to serve melkor before he went all evil but not all of them also went evil#and that leaves a very interesting crack for them to fall through because they just don't really. fit. anywhere#my arien is also a case of this (sibling of the balrogs)#and ultimately the deciding factor in turning evil is mostly if they are able to find support and a purpose with people who care about them#even if they still don't quite fit in#so umbarnica is also a case of this but instead of arien who found her niche by following the formula as closely as possible#(find a vala- take a role under her doing something directly related- oh whoops Fate called so i'm going to be a good maia and do my duty)#(if i don't do everything right i'm going to go insane and then go evil. please for the love of eru let me just do my valar-damned job)#umbarnica went 'yeah you can't tell me what to do. if you try to keep me stuck here in aman i will go insane and then go evil.'#'is that what you want? no? then let me cause nice low level chaos and fun wherever i want and i'll stay out of your hair'#i think they like dnd a lot for the sheer novelty of it#a lot of their domain is gambling or adjacent so to have a game of chance that seeks to tell stories and build community is intriguing#namo is probably the one who has official jurisdiction over them? but mostly in the sense that fate and luck are tied up#he does the bare minimum to make sure they don't get out of hand. neither *likes* this arrangement but they're content with it by now#but yes i'm gonna be calling them umbarnica#is that their name? sure as much as anything can be.#i just thought that 'little doom' would be a really funny euphamism tbh
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astral-catastrophe · 4 months
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If they get my brother another fucking gaming console I’m going to make a poor choice that’s gonna just remove me from existence.
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