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good-beanswrites · 11 days
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Fe Aspec Week Day 7: Free Day -- Legacy
This one took me forever to settle on something I liked -- I was toying around with some ideas about Lukas's epilogue text and the idea of legacy, as well as a bit of meta impact. A few scrapped drawings and 1k words later, I've got this 😂
As always, thank you so much for running this week!! 💜💚 I always have so much fun with the pieces, (it's been the only event week that I can regularly commit to because I always have a blast haha!) and seeing others' amazing work! It's been such a great time :D
Forsyth stepped back from his canvas. He wiped hair from his forehead, hoping he wasn’t smearing any paint there. He studied his work, then his model, then his work once more. He gave a decisive nod. 
“Well. I tried.”
Python choked back a laugh. “That’s not quite the confidence you want to hear from your portrait painter, you know.” He walked up to the canvas, but Forsyth was quick to angle it away from him. 
“Oh, hush, I wasn’t even painting you! I’ll have you know, it was rather difficult trying to paint something without having it in front of me.”
“What are you talkin’ about, Luke was sitting right there for hours!”
At his mention, Lukas perked up. He’d been lounging in front of Forsyth, his eyes lowered to sift through a pile of student writings. He’d been scribbling notes in the margins, absentmindedly angling his face this way and that when Forsyth requested.
“And I am incredibly grateful for his presence. However, I did not want to capture him looking like a sleep-deprived schoolteacher –”
“– but that’s exactly what he is –”
“– so I attempted to recreate my personal favorite expression of his.”
Lukas smiled. “Oh? And what would that be?” He placed the papers aside, giving Forsyth his full attention. Lukas nodded to the canvas, encouraging him to reveal it. 
“Well… you see… the point of this whole project…”
Forsyth searched for the right words. The point of the whole project actually struck him months ago, back at Rigel Castle. 
He and Python had sat for their own portraits, which would later be hung in the great hall to commemorate members of the Brotherhood. Forsyth could have cried seeing he and Python’s likenesses full of dignity and chivalry. The whole time, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling of injustice that boiled in his stomach: Lukas would get nothing. 
Sure, his name would appear in the records as the royal family’s right-hand advisor during and after war, but his image would disappear entirely. He left the Brotherhood to fulfill his dreams long before the kingdom was stable enough to commission a professional painter. With his brother furthering the bloodline and becoming the major focus of the household, Lukas was relieved of all marriage obligations – and opportunities for a couple’s portrait. Paintings alongside any future children were out of the question, as well. 
“It’s terribly unfair!” Forsyth had cried. “Are war and romance the only means to remember a man? Is he any less worthy because he will never marry?”
“You’re overthinking things, Fors.” Python had hardly spared him a glance. “Plenty of good people don’t get their paintings done.”
“And that is just as much an outrage!” 
He brought his concerns to Lukas, who seemed at peace with the situation, as Python was. The pair’s disinterest only caused Forsyth more urgency. After a bit of deliberation, he knew there was only one path forward. 
“I shall take this into my own hands.”
They would find out he meant this very literally. He showed up at Lukas’ schoolhouse with various brushes clutched in his hands, an apron thrown over his chest. He pulled up a nearby seat, propped up an easel, and got right to it. It became their routine: once classes dismissed for the day, Lukas would busy himself with reading through his school materials, and Forsyth would busy himself with work of his own.
He’d done his research beforehand, but had never actually painted anyone’s portrait. He looked again at the finished product.
“I was hoping to capture… er… the point of this work is to commemorate your independent situation… and thus… I remembered the days after you first told me, you were the happiest I’d ever seen you. The face is still a rare one, but after that night, I’ve seen that side of you more and more. I just thought…”
He gave an audible huff. Screw it. 
He turned the canvas around. 
“I am sorry. Perhaps I should have gone with a more dignified look, like the other knights’ portraits. I am aware that I have yet to accomplish a professional’s level of –”
“It’s perfect.” 
Forsyth blinked. 
Lukas stared at the canvas. He appeared to be working out his next words. Meanwhile, Python let out a long whistle. “Lookin’ good! Not too shabby, for your first masterpiece.”
“‘Not too shabby’ is an understatement.” Lukas stepped closer to the piece, his voice full of warmth. “Thank you, friend.”
In the painting, Lukas wasn’t sitting straight-backed and stiff; it was focused on his bust, leaning a bit in relaxed movement. He wore casual clothes, none of his usual professional garments. He smiled. His mouth was a little lopsided, a little odd, pinching his eyes a bit, showing some teeth, but not all – and it was a perfect replication. This was Lukas’s true smile, not the one he put up for others to view. 
Python gave him a poke. “So, now what? Where are we gonna do with it? We can’t just smuggle it into the royal gallery. And I don’t think Lukas is the kind of guy who wants to stare at it here in the school all the time.”
“Well, I… er….”
“I mean, we can certainly just go and hang it up somewhere around town, but I don’t think he’s looking for that, either.”
“I just thought he’d want it! For his legacy!” Forsyth huffed. His eyes shone with The kind of determination that the others knew not to overstep on. There was no stopping him now. “It’s important that he’s remembered through the ages! I think of all the heroes that inspired me – the way I gazed at their images in my fathers’ textbooks, gaining hope from their stories…”
“You’re hoping that Lukas ends up in some dusty textbook someday?”
“Indeed!” He beamed, not realizing that Python didn’t see it as a grand victory. “Just imagine: centuries from now, some harrowed scholar, crushed under familiar struggles. They get a hold of a secondhand book, and suddenly, bam!” He gestured to the painting. “They look upon his face and see that everything will be alright. They’ll think, ‘if Sir Lukas of Valentia can do it, and smile so purely at the end of it all, surely I can too!’”
He clenched his fists, caught up in his own excitement. His gaze was somewhere faraway, imagining this incredible future.  
Python scoffed. 
“It sounds like they’re just as much of a hopelessly sentimental dreamer as you are. They’ll probably think, ‘gods, now I need to study up on this guy too?”
“Python…”
“Or, if they’re like me, maybe they’ll think, ‘mmm, that is one fiiine –”
“Python!”
“Alright, alright. I think it’s a real nice gesture, Fors.”
Lukas had been quietly taking everything in for a while. Now he spoke. “I truly believe this is perfect. As you said – this is an expression only saved for rare occasions. It’s difficult for me to smile so genuinely. I… I never really see it myself.”
He placed a hand on Forsyth’s shoulder. “We can hope it reaches others someday, but regardless, I am grateful to have seen it right now. It inspires me about the future. I… I cannot thank you enough.”
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good-beanswrites · 12 days
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Fe Aspec Week Day 6: Supports
The restraint it took not to do another Lukas-Python support piece... But no!! I needed my yearly dose of Feliciazura!! And was personally offended that they don't have supports together!!! 😤 I usually like the idea that Azura doesn't realize she's ace and Felicia helps her realize why she's felt so different her whole life, but in writing these I ended up completely reversing that dynamic haha. I'm real happy with how they came out! Alright, roll Are You Listening?...
C Support:
🩷 Alright, here goes. One… two… eek! Lady Azura, I didn’t see you there!
💙 My apologies, Felicia, I didn’t mean to frighten you. If I may ask, what were you doing…?
🩷 No need to apologize, I was just, um! Just cleaning. Right. 
💙 Are you certain…? You were standing in front of the mirror, with all these books open around you. 
🩷 E-exactly! It’s a mess, so I was just cleaning all of that, no need to –
💙 Oh my, they’re all romance novels! I see…
🩷 No! You don’t see anything!
💙 All these pages you have open… your pillow in your arms… were you… practicing kissing, by any chance? 
🩷 ACK!
💙 Haha, I remember growing up in Hoshido, all the little children would practice kissing with their pillows, too. I didn’t realize the custom was shared with Nohr.
🩷 Gods, this is so embarrassing. To be caught doing something so childish! Why can’t I get anything right? (leaves)
💙 Oh, Felicia, wait! I didn’t mean to embarrass her. I actually thought it was rather cute...
B Support:
💙 Felicia, there you are! I’ve been meaning to speak with you lately.
🩷 Ugh, if this is about the other day, there’s no need. I have been mortified about it ever since…
💙 Why are you ashamed? As I said, that’s a very common practice in Hoshido.
🩷 Yes, for kids! Kids who are clueless about romance and doing something silly with their friends. It’s not the type of practice you’d expect from a grown woman who should certainly know how to kiss by this time in her life. I’ve already proved myself a failure at everything else, I suppose it makes sense I’d be falling behind when it comes to romance, on top of all that.
💙 What makes you a failure?
🩷 I’ve never kissed anyone before. Like, really kissed them. I’ve fallen in love and tried to do it right, but every single time I leave like a coward when things get too serious. If even kissing is difficult for me, there’s no way I could do anything more…
💙 … Are you calling me a coward, as well?
🩷 W-what? Of course not, milday! Why would you say such a thing? 
💙 Well, I have no experience with kissing either.
🩷 *sigh* Lady Azura, you don’t have to try and make me feel better. You’re the most competent, gorgeous, charming, and calm woman in the whole army. Surely you have hordes of suitors at your heels! You must have experienced everything that romance has to offer, by this point. 
💙 You flatter me, Felicia. But there’s no need to put yourself down so harshly. From what I’ve gathered, you and I are very similar. I never had experience with those types of things because I never wished for them. Everyone seeks different things in a relationship.
🩷 Yes, but everyone wants to kiss their lover!
💙 Not everyone…
🩷 I told you that you didn’t need to make me feel better. If you’ll excuse me. (leaves)
💙 Ah, I really thought we were getting somewhere this time.
A Support:
🩷 Lady Azura, could we speak for a moment? I’m feeling a little guilty about how our last conversation concluded. 
💙 Oh, what is it Felicia?
🩷 I was so caught up in my own worries, and I wasn’t truly listening to you. When you said we were very similar… did you mean, you also weren’t looking for the more physical aspects of a relationship?
💙 That is correct. You’ll need to pardon my assumptions about you. I do hope I did not overstep.
🩷 Not at all! B-but, doesn’t that frighten you? I’ve always feared that I’m not enough for others. Any time I think about confessing my love, it seems like I’ll need to be more, do more, than I want. So I’ve never acted on my feelings for another.
💙 It certainly can be confusing, at first.
🩷 When I’m falling behind with my duties as Corrin’s maid, Jakob just tells me to practice, practice, practice! I had hoped the same would ring true for these struggles. But no amount of practice or preparation has helped me, yet. If it’s true, and you also haven’t had experience like that… Well, how are you so content with not being enough?
💙 Why, because I am enough. When you find a partner, you find someone that completes you. Neither of you demand anything from the other. You communicate and compromise, as any relationship. But if there’s something you simply cannot give, they need not ask it of you.
🩷 Hm… that is a nice thought… 
💙 So if you don’t want to kiss anyone, or do anything else that may seem unappealing, that doesn’t make you a failure by any means. That just makes you, you. No practice necessary.
🩷 Thank you milady, I’d never thought of it that way before. I have some thinking to do, I believe.
💙 I’ll be here anytime you wish to talk.
S Support:
🩷 Lady Azura, I have a confession to make.
💙 A confession?
🩷 Well, two actually. My first is that… on the day that you caught me practicing kissing… well… it was because I had hoped to kiss you. 
💙 Oh!
🩷 I noticed my feelings a long time ago, but any time I tried to admit them, I got too nervous that I would fall short. I thought if I tried extra hard, maybe I could show you that I could give you anything you needed.
💙 Felicia, I hope you know that I will never ask you to be anything other than yourself. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are. And it's very sweet that you wanted to do something out of your comfort zone for me. You work harder than anyone here, I believe.
🩷 Of course I wanted to! I’ll do anything for the people I care about.
💙 I know. That’s why I admire you so much. I’m really glad the two of us could talk. It’s been so long since I’ve met someone so much like myself. Maybe it’s for the best that I stumbled in on you, hm?
🩷 Oh no, I’m still horribly embarrassed by that!
💙 Haha! And what of your second confession?
🩷 That’s right – my other one was… ack ! It was going to be a love confession, but I guess you already know that now! Ah, I’ve gone and done it all backwards…
💙 I don’t mind in the slightest. My answer, of course, is yes. I’d love nothing more than to be yours.
🩷 I just love you so much! I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes for both of us to be the most comfortable.
💙 And I vow to make sure you never feel lacking. Together, we will be more than enough.
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good-beanswrites · 13 days
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Salamander Cover, featuring @astarryserenade!
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I have no idea how to put a video together but by god do I know how to draw Salamander Outfit 😤
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good-beanswrites · 14 days
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Fe Aspec Week Day 4: Acceptance
This week on I Accidentally Made Myself Sad With My Own Angst :( As much as I know Forsyth would be the most accepting person in all of Valentia, I think his own insecurities/mindset would cause a bit of tension during his childhood with Python. It has a happy ending but I wanted to explore just a bit of that first...
“Python!” 
Forsyth’s tiny hands trembled, clutching the gift that he’d bought with his very own money. His father didn't need to know.
Python scrambled down the big oak tree to meet him. He tugged at the dress his father probably made him wear for the holiday. His hair had already come loose from it's braid, likely caught on the twigs and leaves of the tree. Forsyth waited anxiously at it's base for him to come down.
When he arrived, Forsyth shoved the box forward. He startled both of them with the force of it.
“I – I – I have this. For you. Will you – I mean – I would –” Forsyth’s cheeks burned red. It was clear what he was asking. There would be no other reason you’d give someone a perfectly wrapped package of sweets on the Day of Devotion unless you were asking them the question.
Python looked down at it. The two had been friends for so long, it took only a second for Forsyth to understand exactly what it meant. 
“Oh…” He felt his stomach twist up in a knot. His throat started to constrict. “I know Father doesn’t like you, but he doesn’t much like anyone. S-so we can make it work!”
“Fors…”
“We could keep it a secret!” Then, in desperation, “we could – we could run away together!”
“Fors!” Python whined. “C’mon, you know we’re too young for that!” With one hand he took the chocolates, and the other took Forsyth's arm. “We’re supposed to be climbing trees and playing pranks on Teacher – not doing gushy grown-up love stuff.”
Forsyth bit his lip. He didn’t think it was gushy at all. He didn’t trust his voice to speak; with one word he may just start bawling right here. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for being so emotional. 
Python beamed as if he hadn’t just shattered Forsyth’s heart into a million pieces. “Let’s just take it slow, okay? We’ll have plenty of time for all that when we’re older, okay?”
He coaxed a small nod from Forsyth.
“Speaking of! I heard Teach left the schoolhouse window open – have I got the perfect plan! We’ll share the chocolates after, okay? You’re my best friend, we should split them.”
I don’t want to split them. Forsyth let himself be tugged along. I wanted to give them all to you. To give everything to you.
He grit his teeth as they ran. He wasn’t the type to accept defeat after a small setback like this. So, Python wasn’t ready. That was fine. One day he would be. And Forsyth would be there. It was like every book he’d read: the steadfast knight would get the beautiful lover, if he was just patient enough.
He said a quick prayer to Mila, that one day they’d stop being friends, and true love would win out.
“Python!”
Forsyth’s hands trembled, his fists balled up in fury. 
“I am sick and tired of this.”
“Oh you’re tired of this? Then quit fucking confessing every single year. Every year it’s the same speech, and the same shitty plan to run away together. We’re not in some fairy tale, Fors. Just give it up.” Python moved to take a sip from his drink, turning his back. Though they’d both come of age, it wasn’t ale. Though it wasn’t ale, they both spoke as loudly as if they’d each had a barrel to drink. It was a good thing Python’s father was out all night; there was no one in the tiny house to hear them argue.
Forsyth grabbed the cup away before he could take a sip. It earned him a hard look, but a direct one. “I’m not tired of confessing, I’m tired of this type of disrespect!” He placed the drink down a foot away. “You can’t just be honest with me and tell me why I’m not good enough for you – it’s infuriating!”
“I am honest. I’ve told you, this has nothing to do with you. It’s me who–”
“Oh-ho, don’t give me that tired cliche! Every year, it’s another cryptic excuse, another roundabout lie!” He flung his hands in wild gestures, his voice pitching. “You say you’re not ready for commitment, yet you spend every day with me regardless. You say you would make a terrible housemate, yet you stay over at my home for weeks at a time. You say you’re not ready to be with someone, yet I catch word that you shared a bed with the innkeeper!”
“What, you jealous or something?”
“That is exactly what I am. And how dare you act like I’m the crazy one for it!” Tears threatened his eyes, but he pushed through. “I have been by your side your entire life, looking out for you, caring for you, giving all of myself over to you! And here you are, laughing in the face of my love! Like - like it’s another one of your jokes!
“Oh, you're jealous, huh? So is that why you do it? You do all that for me just to get laid at the end of the day? Well if you’d said that sooner, I would have happily –”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
“Then what do you mean?”
“It doesn’t make any damned sense, Python!”
“It does, if you would just pipe down and listen when I –”
“Pipe down?” 
“Yeah! If you’d let me finish a damned sentence this will all make sense!”
“Fine then, go ahead and finish – give me one good reason why you don’t want to be with me!”
“When you’re acting like this I could give you a hundred!” Python swatted his cup away, spilling the drink all over the floor. He stormed out of the room.
A heavy silence fell over the house. Forsyth gathered his things. He left. He finally let his tears fall.
It was simple, he decided. All he needed to do was accept the fact that this relationship was going nowhere. Python didn't love him, and he'd just need to imagine whatever reasons he could. They should simply end things before they got any more hurt. 
End our friendship...
He cried through the night, unable to even muster a word to Mila. 
“Python!”
Forsyth’s hand was steady as it took the man’s shoulder. The pair locked eyes. 
“Run away with me.”
The wind rustled the leaves overhead. Usually the area was bustling with chaos as the new building was erected, but Python was the only one to stay back today. Forsyth would have teased him for the irony, if it hadn’t presented him with the perfect opportunity to ask his question.
Python rolled his eyes. “Har-har. I thought today was Day of Devotion, not Flostym Fools'…”
“Huh?” Forsyth’s expression flashed with confusion, then horror. “O-oh! Not like that, of course! Oh gods, I meant… the Deliverance.”
He spread his hands. “It’s clear we’ll never get the approval we seek to join. So I propose we do it in secret. Everyone will be distracted by the village festivities tonight. If we don’t come home right away, everyone will assume it’s for… the festivities. It will give us a reasonable head start. We won’t need to worry about them catching up to us by the time they finally realize we’ve gone.”
He looked eagerly to Python. 
“Heh, using all the hype around love to make our escape... you’re a true ally after all, Fors!”
Forsyth’s look soured. “L-listen. I swear, I would never ask you that again. I mean, we got over that years ago. I nearly lost you to that argument, and I shall never make the same mistake again. I know how much pain I put you through, and I would never dream of –”
“Hey. I know. You had a lot on your mind, then.” He let out a loud sigh. “Which is why I’m gonna come along with you. Somebody’s gotta help you find that special someone, right?”
“Do you mean it? Wait, what is that supposed to mean?”
With a hearty laugh, Python pulled him into a hug. Forsyth held him close. Reality may not follow a path like the perfect little fairy tales he read as a child, but that made it no less perfect.
“So… that’s a yes?”
Python leaned back so he could study his face. “You’re really serious about this, huh?”
“W-were you not?”
“Eh, I’m not serious about anything…” He offered his hand. “But I’m in. I’m always in.”
Forsyth accepted it, clasping it within both of his. He found himself too choked up for words, though he didn’t care if anyone saw him cry. He wiped tears from his cheeks and smiled at Python’s kindhearted teasing.
He thanked the gods that they would never stop being friends.
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good-beanswrites · 14 days
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Her ass is not writing !
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good-beanswrites · 16 days
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I'll be formatting/posting an official video in the next few days, but I'm too excited and need to share that my incredible partner @igotbones organized a cover of these by the amazing @astarryserenade !! Thank you so much to you both, I'm still reeling it sounds insanely cool 🔥🔥🔥
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My translyrics for Salamander, written out under the cut :D
This one was much more difficult than the last, but I'm still very satisfied with it! 😤 I'm both sad that my version lost a lot of the fun soundplay of the original, and also waaay more impressed with the lyrics and vocals after digging it like this! I tried to keep it balanced between the original and Fuuta's version, though maybe it ended up leaning more toward the cover, idk. Leaving my specific notes in the tags 👍
Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?
"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.
It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.
I want a taste, but all this spice may prove more than I can take, (eh?)
Something's on your mind. So spit it out and tell me, don't waste my time, kay?
I'm hooked on this, pass me a dish.
The way I'm starving here without you -- it's a crime
A spicy treat, put on repeat,
Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!
Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?
"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.
It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.
I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --
Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.
I want a bite, I can't help giving in to this new appetite.
Again, again, I want to be on fire when I get to the end.
We live too fast, we burn to ash,
I never handled spices well and it's a crime.
A spicy treat, put on repeat,
Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!
I want to burn bright red
I want to burn bright red
Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?
"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.
Tell me I'm not alone in my mind!
Salamander~ Look what's happened to me. This pa- passion's crazy
Tell me I'm not delirious, I'm being serious.
It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.
I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --
Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.
I want to leave I want to go, but I can never stop, oh no --
Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.
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good-beanswrites · 17 days
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Fe Aspec Week Day 1: Coming Out
WOO It's aspec week time!! 💜💚 To no one's surprise I'm starting off with Lukas :3 I know we have the wonderful support convo when he and Python sort of come out to each other, but I was always curious about the loose ends that it brings up -- how he comes out to/is treated by his family, the woman he's left behind, his fellow nobles, etc. This drabble doesn't really answer any of those questions sadfsadf but it's coming from that thought 😂
Father,
I am writing to you now, so soon after my previous letter, as there is something I have yet to confess. It may be difficult for you to hear, but
The sentence stops abruptly, a small dab of ink at the corner of the ‘t’ where the pen had rested a moment in contemplation.
A man sits back at his at a desk. His candle illuminates the page, displaying a few brief lines at the top. He dips his pen in ink time and time again, but the page remains mostly empty. 
At first, the man believes his problem to be a lack of words. No title exists for men like him. He’s well-educated and well-connected in the army; he has an extensive vocabulary for how the upper and lower class categorizes its people. Whether it’s a scholar’s dull terminology, vulgar common language insults, or the carefully chosen phrasing of a gossiper, none of the usual descriptors fit him. All he has are the distantly connected criticisms he’d heard his whole life: “heartless,” “cold,” “detached.” 
When the candle burns lower, however, he realizes the real issue. He has far too many words.
Where would he even start? Should he describe his contentment with his life here? How not one of his fellows ever brought up the lack of a woman at his arm, or how dinners with the King and Queen themselves were filled with pleasantries that never touched on his romantic endeavors? Whatever his father had been preparing for, it had never come.
Or should he begin earlier, when he was first accepted by this group of people? He wasn’t sure if he could properly convey all that he experienced on that fateful night, speaking softly with the unit’s archer – a man he’d come to call one of his truest friends. The man had heard for the first time in his life that there were others like him. He heard that they were content. They were whole.
He could go back further and describe the moment that the realization first hit him. How his father had been right in a sense. Just as he said, one day when the man was grown, he would be in the arms of another, and everything about himself would suddenly make sense. There was only one difference. He’d been forced to bury that clarity, since it wasn’t the same kind that everyone else came to.
Or should he start even further back? He could recount all little hints that haunted him across his youth. His dreams for the future never quite aligned with those of his peers. Nothing ever seemed to align. His choice of stories to read, of games to play, of jokes to make. He wouldn’t ever claim he was mistreated as a child, but everyone would agree that the signs had appeared even then.
The man sighs. Where is the beginning, when one has always been this way? 
The clock strikes on the hour. It is late, and he will need to be at his sharpest tomorrow for drills and meetings. He has no more time to fret over words about his past. 
The man tries a new method, and wonders what his friends may write about him. He can’t resist a dry smile. He knows that he can never, under any circumstance, allow them to exchange any correspondence with his family. 
But the exercise gives him an idea.
He writes out a single statement. Then he blows out the candle and heads to his bed. 
there is nothing broken about me.
Cordially,
Lukas
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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this is so stupid but i always have fun imagining the milgram characters watching their own/others mvs and seeing their reactions, especially for MeMe
That’s not stupid at all, thank you so much for the ask!! It’s sooo interesting to think about! I planned on just posting this drabble, but the more I thought about it, the more I started jotting down headcanons for everyone 👀 Of course there’s the initial disbelief and shock that Milgram can really do what it claims, but once they accept that, they’d have a lot of interesting reactions…
Es gets to watch the video first, then the prisoners are free to watch their own in the privacy of the courtroom/extraction room/wherever. Other prisoners can watch them only with explicit permission from the video’s singer. No one is allowed to watch Undercover except for Es. At first they spend hours looking at those final frames of themself flinching from the camera, hoping to jog any sort of memories, but eventually they give up on it. While actually watching it, they don’t mind the murder silhouettes. While sleeping, however, it has triggered more than one nightmare.
Haruka: He thinks Weakness is very pretty – he’s amazed seeing himself on the screen and hearing his voice, knowing he’s not that good of a singer. Even before his innocent verdict, it gives him a huge surge of confidence. Once he gets to know the others better, he gives them mv permissions, then stares intently at their faces to see their reactions as they watch it. AKAA scares him a bit, seeing his own intense emotions on screen, and he only gives Muu permission to see it. When he’s alone, Haruka pauses the shots of his mother, just to stare for a while.
Yuno: Laughs at the symbolism her mind used in Umbilical. She’s never shied away from sexual words/thoughts, so it's funny the video was as tame as it was. She thinks the song is fun, and isn’t afraid to show the others and sing snippets of it around the prison. Some days it’s too emotional for her to get into it, but most of the time she tries to display a confident attitude about it. After Tear Drop, she’s satisfied with her anger and more overtly sexual images. If anything, she feels too exposed by the shots of herself looking more vulnerable/sad. 
Fuuta: He experiences a solid mix of embarrassment at the gaming theme in Bring it On and feeling a surge of pride that he looks badass in the knight’s armor. He’s worried the warden won’t take him seriously with the video game obsession, but he absolutely loves the song and thinks it portrays his toughness and ideals well. He’s less thrilled with Backdraft, everything about it unsettles and embarasses him. He’s thrown by the shot of crossing out his own silhouette – he’d had self-harming thoughts, but wasn’t quite ready to confront them so blatantly yet. Like Haruka, he can be caught pausing the arcade shot just for a moment before turning the whole thing off and storming away.
Muu: She has mixed emotions towards After Pain. She hates seeing herself look so weak and pathetic, but it gives her a lot of hope that her story will be understood. She misses her friends, and seeing them again is bittersweet. She closes her eyes at the moment of the stabbing – she’s only gotten the courage to watch it through her fingers once. She watches INMF once, then refuses to look at it again from shame/horror. Despite Haruka’s begging, she doesn’t let him watch it, either. 
Shidou: He asks Es what they saw in Throw Down. Upon finding out his family wasn’t in it, he chooses not to watch it. He believes he already knows all about his emotions and crime, so there’s no need to go through that pain again. He’s tempted to watch it when he’s confused about Es’ verdict, but still holds off. He does watch Triage when informed his family is in it. He spends hours in front of the screen by himself. Only after seeing that one does he watch Throw Down, though he’s still left confused about Es’ decisions.
Mahiru: Absolutely loves TIHTBILWY. She thinks it perfectly describes her situation, and that the song is very cute. She lets others watch it, and unlike Yuno, feels like singing it 24/7. It reminds her of her bf, and she thinks that’s very romantic. Similar to Shidou, she spends a lot of time watching I Love You just to look at her boyfriend. She shows it to everyone, just to show him off and talk about him, even if she does skip over the beginning and end each time.
Kazui: He is very similar to Shidou; he refuses to watch his videos until T2, assuming it would be too painful to watch something he already knows and wishes to avoid. Unlike Shidou, seeing Hinako is far too painful, and he regrets watching it and seeing her so happy on their wedding day. Though maybe he’s still waiting, and hasn’t seen any of the videos yet…
Amane: Magic makes her worry more than anything. She fears she’s poisoned by unnecessary vainness since so much of her video involves cute things, colors, outfits, animals, and is set up like a tv show. She’s also worried that Es and the others will really see her as a child because of how cute the whole thing is. She prevents herself from watching it too many times, but buried under all her fears, it gives her a surge of pride seeing herself so talented and pretty and the star of the show. Purge March only reaffirms her confidence in her crime – the video brings up some awful memories, but it shows her as a leader, a warrior, a hero! It brings her comfort and confidence more than anything.
Mikoto/John: The videos are distressing to both of them, and they spend all their time studying the others’ screentime. Mikoto watches in horror as John does things that line up with his spotty memories, and John panics seeing that his actions distress Mikoto more than they’ve reassured/saved him. John does end up watching his own scenes a few times – it feels incredibly good to appear in a way that Mikoto may finally notice him. He feels seen. Now, logically I think that MeMe would be the final tipping point in which Mikoto finally accepts the situation and his DID, but if I must stick to his canon denial, then I’d say he goes on a whole rant about movie magic andt the crazy things you can do with editing nowadays. He doesn’t have a good explanation on how Milgram found his home and knew so much about him, but he explains everything away as cgi or camera effects. Double manages to sway him a bit more, as he hears John speak so plainly to him. Just as the audience had some debate on who was apologizing at the end of Double, Mikoto and John wonder who is apologizing to whom. Though they both come to the conclusion it’s their own apology, they decide that if it was the others’, they’d accept it and forgive them.
Kotoko: She’s very pleased with Harrow, and is unashamed to show it to the others. Though she’d been able to watch a few of the previous prisoners’ videos, it still shakes her a bit when she realizes that Milgram really does have the tech to look deep inside her. She watches it just a few times – not obsessing over it, but not afraid either. Deep Cover, however, is a once-and-done sort of deal. She claims she’s not letting the others watch it because “they couldn’t handle such harsh but true criticisms about themselves,” but she doesn’t end up watching it anymore herself, either.
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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A drabble for an anon asking about the prisoners watching their music videos! This is focused on specifically Mikoto’s initial shock at seeing MeMe for the first time, but just know that Double comes with a whole new set of shocks as he truly listens to John for the first time ;-;
Mikoto was no criminal. 
He didn’t know how to break into locked rooms, or hack into complex prison security systems. He figured there was no way in hell he’d be able to see these so-called incriminating videos that the Warden was recording, and had resolved himself to an eternity of wondering what they could be. He was shocked when he didn’t need to do a single thing to gain access to them – Es simply adjusted the computer monitor and told him he could hit play when (and if) he wished. Then they left the room.
“A-are you sure?” he called, but they were already gone.
Mikoto blinked at the screen. It showed a stretched version of his apartment couch, near his bathroom wall, broken to reveal sky above. He thought he could spot his tarot cards at the bottom of the frame. Had Milgram broken into his home to film this? 
He scoffed, and hit play.
Distorted guitar started up. He flinched as his own face appeared for a moment – looking directly into the camera and making a wild expression he would never have made if someone was recording. His body tensed up more as he heard his own voice start to sing lyrics he’d never spoken before in his life. He wasn’t even a good singer, and here he was sounding like a professional. 
There were plenty of ways to accomplish all of this, of course. Software could mimic one’s voice, making him say anything these crazy reality hosts wanted. A team could easily add some digital effects to a stunt double and match his appearance perfectly. Knowing that didn’t make the experience any less unsettling.
He watched himself commit a nasty murder. He watched himself return home bloodied. But it was all ridiculous. How could Milgram even claim that this was him? He’d never raised a hand to anyone in his life. Were the other prisoners’ videos as outlandish as this one?
But then, a switch. 
The song shifted to a new melody. He appeared to wake up from his couch, and suddenly Mikoto got the sense that this was him.
He was struck with how familiar this new segment sounded. It simultaneously felt like a favorite song he must have played on loop not too long ago, and one that he’d never heard before. As it played, each new note and lyric felt right on the tip of his tongue. 
It ended as quickly as it began. The song returned to the heavy-metal-murder aesthetic it had started with, and once again he felt like he was watching a cheap copy of himself onscreen. He watched another murder, a shower scene (had the warden seen all that? How embarrassing…) and then he turned to his bathroom mirror.
At the same time as his musical counterpart, Mikoto leapt backwards in horror. 
His eyes remained glued to the screen. His hand flew up to grab the lower half of his face. It was fake, he told himself. AI and CGI and all that. It was fake. It had to be. 
Something deep inside of him said “no. That’s real. That’s me.”
Something else deep inside of him echoed the sentiment.
The video was less than four minutes of music, but by the end he was panting and tugging at his hair as if he’d endured hours of prison torture. He burst out of the room. He sucked in breath after breath. The melodies still played in his mind, lines repeating in his memory as he tried to put as much distance between himself and that little television screen.
He found the others in the common room. They gave him a knowing look, but somehow he knew his experience had been very different from their own. Es approached him.
They studied his expression for a moment. Thankfully, they didn’t ask anything stupid, like “how did it go?” or “what did you think?” 
Instead, they just told him, “if you ever want to watch it again, just let me know, I can get it set up for you.”
He would want to see it again. Of course, it would be better, then. He would take a moment to calm down. He’d watch it later and everything would be okay. He’d have a clearer mind. He’d pick out all the little camera tricks they used to make it. He’d be sure it was a fake, and laugh about how ridiculous he was being now. 
Of course. Of course. 
He nodded to Es, unable to produce any words. Es left him.
The rules in this prison never made any sense, but in this case, he was grateful. He wouldn’t need to figure out any snooping or hacking to get access to the video again. After all, he was no criminal.
… he wasn’t, was he?
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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My last post made me want to spin the ballet au to suit the general cast, keeping Es as the protagonist 🩰
I don't have art for this one but I still got a bit carried away with the details LOL This definitely leans more into a sweet fix-it :3
The story would open with Es waking up in the medical room of Milgram Dance Academy, a very small and isolated school. Es is told they suffered a bad head injury during a performance, resulting in amnesia. Their instructor (Jackalope. Make this work however you wish.) tells them not to worry about it, and to focus on their dancing for now. Es feels a pressing responsibility to stay and rehearse, so they agree.
Jackalope tells them they must understudy several roles while recovering, not ready to jump into things right away. They're grateful, since they're struggling with their identity and expression without their memories.
The first student they are directed to is a shy and lanky dancer by the name of Haruka. They study under him as the role of a graceful, melancholic swan. They watch the choreography in general, and it looks nice enough. Es proceeds to spend several rehearsals with him, talking and bonding and learning he has a bit more going on than meets the eye. They try to offer help as he admits to familial issues, self esteem questions, and comments about sibling jealousy. In turn, he teaches Es to mimic some of his powerful emotions. At the end of their time together, they both perform for their class in full costume and staging. Now, Es understands each move with a deeper understanding than their initial look at the steps.
Next, they’re sent to meet the bubbly girl playing Juliet and begin the process anew. This continues to make a total of ten roles. Some of the dancers take the sessions kindly, while others are brash, secretive, or just confusing.
After rehearsing with Kotoko and learning to understand her determination and confidence, Es is sent back to Haruka, who has moved onto a new show and new role. They’re shocked to discover that their words to each dancer – always well-intentioned – had caused some issues backstage. Now, there are rivalries and changes in stage presence. While experiencing stress (that Es has inadvertently caused,) some were distracted in rehearsal and got injured. Es must take on the interpersonal issues as well as the choreography challenges.
I don’t have all the roles down and was trying to stick to well-known shows anyway, but I think I’d want Muu to be the Sugar Plum Fairy, Kazui to be Albrecht from Giselle, and Amane to be Clara. I wanted to keep them traditionally gendered to prove there are plenty of roles for men, but I can’t help but have Odette/Odile thoughts for T1 Mikoto ;-;
Like the other post, I'm equally tempted to have the dancers performing ballet adaptations of the mvs 👀 I want to see. Bee tutu. Doctor coat costume. Marching band tutu. AKAA mismatched look. The backgrounds. The music. The choreo. So many cool possibilities...
As a sweet au, it all ends with everyone better for having met one another. Es is cast in a solo performance, combining everything they've learned both emotionally and technically from the others. They feel satisfied with their sense of identity, and shine onstage ✨️✨️✨️
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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im the requester !! ITS AMAZING THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! im not really good with words, but still! its great, thank you!!!!!!
Ahh I'm so glad you enjoyed it, I loved writing it!! Thank you for reaching out, it genuinely means so much :'D I should write more about Shidou, I always have such a good time...
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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A scrapped beginning to that last Shidou request, I was originally going to focus more on his mindset toward his own life throughout T1 but couldn't get it to go anywhere...
“What are the chances that all ten of us are killers?” Mikoto nudged Shidou with a grin. “Like, come on. That’s quite a lot of death in one place, huh?”
As he moved on to chatter to the others, Shidou answered with one of his reserved smiles.
It hid his true reply: there was nothing surprising about so much death in one place. Although the first thing you learn in medical school is how resilient the human body is, the second thing you learn is how unbearably, ridiculously, tragically fragile it is. When it comes down to it, it’s exceedingly easy for a person to die. 
Some of the prisoners whispered about the children in the group, wondering whether they were capable of murder. Shidou knew that it wasn’t difficult to do. In fact, even when you’re doing everything humanly possible to avoid that outcome, someone can die right within your grasp. 
Injury or illness, accident or attempt, Shidou had spent his career surrounded by death. He always knew he wasn’t immune to it, but lately he was realizing he wasn’t opposed to it, either.
His smile was quick to return as some of the others greeted him for the day.
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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So Morning Rise to Light Us -- Sneak Peek
Hehehe, here's a tiny peek at my piece for the Milgram Confidential Files Zine (@milgramcf). All of the artists and writers have put together awesome work in it, and there's going to be cute merch too :D It's a nonprofit zine -- proceeds will be donated to the Trevor Project! Preorders start in April, I hope you give it a peek :3
I've got a little cast-wide character study focusing on the prisoner's morning routines. It'll be featured with lovely art from @sequoiareachesforthesky!
---
You are always, always talking about yourself. 
It doesn’t matter how willing or withdrawn one may be. The way someone dresses, the way they hold themselves, the way they act, the way they don’t: everything speaks. 
It’s impossible to avoid these self-informants. Es used this to their advantage. They didn’t think Jackalope’s promise of vague videos would be enough to complete a murder investigation, and in a way, they were correct. The prisoners found other ways to talk about themselves. 
Es studied them while they ate their meals, conversed in the common area, or passed whispers between the cell bars at night. They watched the developing friendships and fast-approaching fights. They noted what made the prisoners smile. What made them flinch.
But even in the most basic, mundane moments – ones that Es would never think of watching so closely – the prisoners never stopped speaking about themselves.
“I… I like that toothpaste b-better.” Haruka pointed across the sink. “Koto-k-kotoko, could you, um!”
“Huh? Here, you can use it.”
Before any verdicts were announced, before everything fell into chaos, the prisoners got comfortable with one another’s morning routines. The washroom filled with gentle chatter and running water. As requests arrived, product bottles filled up the counters.
Shidou and Kotoko arrived first, just after the early bell. Mahiru would greet each prisoner by name on her way to her favorite spot. Kazui used to be one of the earliest, but as time went on, he joined everyone around the same time Fuuta finally dragged himself in.
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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hi hi ! i hope requests are open ? i wanted to request something with 05 - any trial ( but if in t2 , id lme it if it wasnt about 06 or 03s injuries if thats ok?) and with any prisoner just not 07 06 or 03 ... maybe more on the angsty side..? i hope this is ok aknskdnsñ
Ah thank you for the request!! Shidou my beloved... It makes sense, but it's still a shame how often he's paired with all the others, seeing as he has enough angst all on his own ;---; I placed this kind of between trials/beginning of the second -- Shidou's one interrogation question always made me think he was trying to quit smoking that trial, but I always wondered if he succeeded. TW for brief mention to his suicidal mindset.
Shidou remembered being the envy of his coworkers, always praised for such steady hands. The thought came to him bitterly while he cooked. His trembling fingers fumbled with the knife. He asked himself again why he’d decided to quit smoking.
It isn’t as if quitting now can save me.
But that’s what he was hoping for, wasn’t it? That one good decision after so many misguided ones could change his fate? That the path to atonement didn’t need to involve any more death?
He couldn’t count how many times he’d repeated the list of symptoms to patients, yet he found himself frustrated with each new consequence. The sleepless nights, the shakiness, the dizziness – even his cool temper was tested by the irritability of withdrawals. 
After snapping at Yuno for something harmless, he’d offered to take her place as cook for the night as way of apology. He assumed taking on her chore would help keep his mind off of things. He prepared a familiar meal, one with many fond memories attached. 
The task only succeeded in aggravating him further. 
Since removing his gloves, the sensation across his palms had driven him mad. Objects felt foreign between his bare fingers. The herbs weren’t cut as precisely as he liked. The vegetables didn’t cook correctly. He had to rush the timing. Things spilled and splattered more than usual.
Shidou swiped some hair away from his face, glowering down at the countertop. He may not be in his best shape, but surely he was better than this? As much as he tried to avoid it, a thought wouldn’t leave his mind.
I usually have another pair of hands helping me out.
Cooking continued in a heavy silence. Not even the simmering from the stovetop or the gentle clink of utensils could lift it. 
When everything had been added and stirred, Shidou dipped a spoon into the pan. He tested his creation.
Not quite right. I followed the recipe perfectly. What’s missing…?
He went back to the scattered ingredients. A little of this went in the pan, a little more of that. He took another taste. Then another, a few minutes later. No matter how he adjusted the meal, the result was the same.
He grasped the edge of the counter, trying to curb his frustration.
“Sh-Shidou?” 
Haruka peered his head into the kitchen.
“What are you doing in here?” He straightened. His voice came out with its usual coolness; if he wasn’t careful, people often mistook it for harshness. Seeing the way Haruka flinched, he tried to speak easier. “Is dinner late? My apologies, I must have lost track of the time.”
“It’s just, the others were, uh. You’ve been in here a long time, and… I’m s-sorry to bother you.” Then, a moment where he studied Shidou’s tense expression. “W-what’s wrong?”
It’s not like hers. It’ll never be like hers again.
“Nothing at all.” Shidou mustered up a smile for him. It wasn’t his fault the others had become impatient. And, it could hardly be called impatience – it was long past when dinner should be ready. “Go tell the others it will be ready momentarily.”
“O-oh. Okay.”
Shidou took a long breath. He had already lost so many pieces of her. He had nothing of any of them, in fact. There wasn’t anything he could hold close – no photographs, no possessions. He had no familiar rooms to sit in, or paths to walk along. Most mourners are haunted by a house full of reminders of their loved ones, but Shidou would have seen that as a luxury. Now, he couldn’t even have this.
Once he finished cooking, he made a plate for everyone but himself. He slipped out of the dining hall unnoticed. Everyone was too excited with his finished product to bother with him.
That’s nothing new…
The panopticon was quiet. His cell was quiet. With his gloves back on, the soft touch on the smoking room door barely made a sound. Shidou pulled a lighter from his pocket. 
He’d rid himself of all cigarettes when he first quit, but it had been easy enough to find a stray one tucked somewhere in his room. Maybe he’d left a few on purpose – something in his subconscious knew he’d break down eventually.
It took a few tries to get it to light in his clumsy hands. He couldn’t help listing off the reasons his hands could be trembling. Nicotine withdrawal, general hunger, bodily fatigue, emotional distress… it could go on. 
It was a relief to take a deep inhale. He felt his chest unwind a bit. His mind finally slowed. 
He shouldn’t let himself feel so relaxed. In a place as dangerous as this, one good decision may not save his fate, but one more misguided decision may seal it.
He’d never admit it out loud, but –
That thought is a relief, too.
#milgram#shidou kirisaki#haruka is there real quick lol :)#OMG I just looked back at my tag rant im so sorry asdfsdfsdf#thank you so much for the request!! (and your patience lol) this was really nice to write ;--;#i was planning on closing requests around that time but im really glad i kept it open for a bit longer -- i love writing shidou ;-;#i have a lot of thoughts about all the consequences/meanings to his smoking waah#of course theres the main focus of him doing something unhealthy/self-sabotaging and then giving it up in the name of helping others#but now he becomes a patient himself and must deal with all these physical ailments#and for someone as calm and collected as him i can imagine he would shock himself/the others if he had to deal with a shorter temper#and i didnt even get to it here but this decision also isolates him -- he specifically says its lonely without the smoking group#now it really is all work and no play#(following a very work-focused crime)#made myself sad thinking about how he has nothing to remember his family by...#if milgram did take them pretty soon after the murders he probably didnt even have time for a funeral or anything#he has absolutely no closure or comforting possessions#i love his cooking symbolism (and it fits nicely with mahirus thing with food and love as well) and it just breaks my heart that he and#his wife probably cooked/gardened together#i was tired of writing charactes who would never say what theyre really thinking out loud and said here are his thoughts anyway asfsdf#i also didnt go to deep into here but there are so many complexities with his desire to live at this point in canon too#as much as im emotional over him choosing to live in triage - thats not the type of thing you can just up and get over by making one choice#he has to fight to keep up that decision every single day and i think sometimes he slips back into old mindsets...#i feel like i dont post about him as much as my other faves but i do have so many shidou thoughts OUGHHGHHG#drabbles
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good-beanswrites · 2 months
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I already brought this up, but for quicker reference:
Order of Attack: Mahiru nightmare sequence about Kotoko's attacks. Gotta round out the guilty trio.
Feel free to not prioritize this. :D
LISTEN, I CAN'T BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THE ANGST THAT YOU REQUEST (<- made myself sad over Mappi and worries I may be in trouble for this one). Obligatory "I don't hate Kotoko and think she's very complex but from these character's pov I had to make her solely scary I'm sorry." And of course I was prioritizing this 👀👀👀 I really loved your nightmare sequences, I tried to make one that completed the set but was still unique!! Thank you for the request >:3
TW for referencing her bf's suicide, and descriptions of the attack injuries
“Aw, come on, you can tell me~” Yuno turned her attention away from where she’d been helping Mahiru with dinner. “Both Fuuta and Amane have had nightmares about her. Hell, I’ve had a nightmare or two about her. I won’t think you’re a mean person for admitting it.”
“I’m not lying,” Mahiru insisted. Her lips rounded into a little pout.
Yuno studied her expression. The girl had a way of really looking at someone when she wanted to. Sometimes it was a wonderful feeling – her gaze could be full of understanding, warmth. You were seen. You were heard. She saw you for all that you were. 
But in times like these, Mahiru found herself shifting under the pressure of it. Yuno was truly seeing her. She could see how Mahiru’s smile was frozen in its forced shape these past few weeks. She could see the way she flinched at loud noises, or how all the blood drained from her face when Kotoko’s voice echoed from the room next door. In waking, there was no doubt Mahiru was afraid of her. In sleep, though…
Yuno took her hands in both of hers.
“Then… what do you dream about?”
Mahiru was in the woods. She was running, her feet bare, her breath hitching. 
At first, she thought she was fleeing something. Danger and death loomed around her. The trees closed in. The canopy plunged her into darkness. The branches reached out to tear at her flowered dress, or snag on her hair. The trees pressed close to suffocate her. She grabbed at her throat. 
At some point, it became clear she was running towards something. A figure came into her view, just ahead. Though he didn’t appear to be running, she couldn’t catch up to him. She had to. He was in danger. She had to get to him. She had to stop him. 
He entered a clearing up ahead. Mahiru could just barely see into it. She tried to scream out, begging him to stop, but no words came out of her wheezing mouth. She could stop everything, she could stop all of this, if only –
She burst through the clearing. The figure, now a young woman, stood in the center. She faced away. 
Mahiru tried again to tell Kotoko to stop, but it didn’t matter whether or not she could speak, now; it was too late. 
On the ground below, between tree roots and scattered leaves, lay two small bodies.  
Mahiru’s hands flew to cover her mouth. Her legs grew weak with horror. There was blood everywhere, and bones bent at wrong angles. Fuuta’s limbs were twisted and limp. Amane had curled herself to cover her face, blood streaming from between her fingers.
 Kotoko, too, had red-stained hands. She surveyed her work with pride.
“What… have you done…?”
Slowly, Kotoko turned. Mahiru wanted to turn around and run before those bloodthirsty eyes could land on her. Her legs stayed frozen in place even as her heart raced in her chest. 
Kotoko met her gaze. Then, she gave a gentle smile.
“Thank you.”
Mahiru stumbled back a few steps.
“You let this happen.” 
“No…”
“You did. You could have stopped this, but you didn’t. Thank you.”
“I-I didn’t –! This isn’t – ! I thought –”
“You knew this was going to happen.” She spoke a familiar name, and Mahiru shook her head violently. “You knew what he was planning. You had plenty of chances to stop him. You didn't. You knew what I was planning. You know how to calm people down, how to bring groups together. But you didn’t speak to me once about it. You wanted this to happen.”
“I didn’t!” She said it frantically, unsure if she was trying to convince Kotoko, the two beaten prisoners, herself, or someone else. “I didn’t.” The statement was true, but it didn’t change anything that Kotoko had said.
The forest closed in. Kotoko reached a hand out, beckoning to her.
“We make a good team, don’t we?”
“No…” 
Mahiru was struck with the thought that she didn’t want to take hold of such a disgusting hand, only to glance down at her own. They were just as slick with blood. She let out a shriek.
It was Amane’s. It was Fuuta’s. It was his. 
Mahiru’s legs finally gave out on her. When she looked up, Kotoko was still smiling.
“So… who will be next?” 
Mahiru slipped away from Yuno’s grasp. 
“Oh, don’t you worry about little old me!” She turned back to their work. She brushed her hands off on her apron, giving them an extra swipe for good measure. “I promise, Kotoko isn’t the villain in my dreams.”
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good-beanswrites · 2 months
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Counterattack, phase 3
"Betrayal"
(An "Order of Attack" side story)
@good-beans, when you attack me, you understand that you are liable to get a taste of your own medicine, right? :)))
So... what a nice drabble you have over here... How would you feel if I destroyed it made it flow nicely from your other one?
Oh hey, I finally wrote in Mappi's POV.
(Cw for Amane's cult/child abuse mindset)
-
Mahiru walked through the open door to Shidou's cell, holding two trays of breakfast in her hands. Shidou nodded and gestured to a table, and Mahiru set the trays down.
She looked over at the patients resting on opposite sides of the room, with their injured sides by the respective walls. Uniforms cut for ease of movement, not that they would be moving much. Mahiru had cut her own sleeves during the brief moment of freedom (at Shidou and Yuno's suggestion) so she could help out. Every free hand counts.
Mahiru noticed that Amane's head was turned towards the wall. Could she be awake? She quietly approached and took a seat.
"Oh, Amane-chan… are you-"
"Shiina Mahiru. Why did you betray me?" Full-name basis? Amane's words stung.
"Betray? What do you mean?"
"Why did you take Kirisaki Shidou's side?" Her voice sounded choked. 
"I wasn't taking sides… what is this about?"
Amane turned her head and locked her eye on Mahiru. "You let this happen to me." She gestured to her eyepatch.
Mahiru felt a pang of regret for asking Yuno to come to her cell. "I'm sorry… I would have stayed in Yuno's cell if I knew-"
"That does not matter. You let Kirisaki Shidou take my trial from me." 
Amane put a thumb under her eyepatch to lift it. Mahiru gently pushed her hand away from her eye. "I can't let you-"
"Let go!" Amane shrieked, slapping Mahiru's hand with her other hand. Mahiru withdrew her hand and held it at a distance, then she looked over her shoulder and shook her head so Shidou wouldn't intervene.
"I'm sorry. But I care too much to see you hurt."
"If you care about me, then why would you see me off to my doom?"
"I don't want you to die."
"That is not your place—or that doctor's—to decide. This is my trial alone." She blotted the tears from her left eye. "All I wanted was to be a good girl… No matter how difficult it was to achieve, no matter how painful the trials… and now I can't even hope for that now…"
Mahiru took a moment to figure out what to say. "It's not too late, Amane-chan. You have your whole life ahead of you… well…" She realized Amane wouldn't hear out any more concerns about her health. "…I'm trying to be a good girl too. I've done terrible things… Someone I loved is dead because of me. Is it too late for me?" She looked at Amane hopefully.
Amane took her time to answer. "N-no… It's not."
"Then can you help me out here?" Quiet. "I'd need you to stay alive to help." Still quiet. "Can we be good together?"
Mahiru almost thought that Amane was ignoring her until she mumbled under her breath.
"Shiina Mahiru, You are asking a lot of me. But I care about you very much."
"Hm? I missed that last part. Can you speak up?"
"I said, I see very much potential in you. A lot of innate goodness in you. I suppose, for your sake, I can bend the laws of my faith."
"Thank you, Amane-chan."
It would be a long way to forgiveness, but at least there was a way.
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good-beanswrites · 2 months
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Counterattack, phase 2
@good-beans, you shall pay for attacking me.
Phase 1 was to make you think about what you had done.
Phase 2 is to make you look at what you've done.
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(Do be warned, the injuries are lightly sketched under the cut.)
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Phase 3 will be out soon...
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