good-beanswrites - Tumblr blog

[good-beanswrites]

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.

[good-beanswrites]

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?

[good-beanswrites]

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 ✨️✨️✨️

[good-beanswrites]

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...

[good-beanswrites]

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.

[good-beanswrites]

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.

[good-beanswrites]

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.

[good-beanswrites]

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.”

[good-beanswrites]

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.

[good-beanswrites]

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.

(Do be warned, the injuries are lightly sketched under the cut.)

Phase 3 will be out soon...

[good-beanswrites]

An 0309 drabble for an anon ask I got a bit ago :) Thank you for being patient, I really enjoyed writing this!! It's actually a little moment I've wanted to write since I started Milgram fic, but never got around to it. (I mention his injured eye, but don't actually describe anything)

“Stop moving around so much.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I mean it. You’ll make things worse.”

Mikoto watched as the intensity in Fuuta’s gaze flickered between fire and fear.

He had a doctor’s kit laid out on his lap. Recently, Shidou had his hands full with Mahiru’s treatments and having intense conversations with Haruka, so Mikoto wanted to give him a break. With none of the injuries actually healing as they should, the prisoners were caught in an endless loop of changing bandages and checking for complications.

Shidou was grateful for the help. Many of the others tolerated Fuuta in the same way they spent only the necessary time around Mikoto. They smiled and placated him, acting like he’d gone mad all of the sudden. Whatever was making the others avoid the two of them, it drew the pair together. Mikoto was finding he enjoyed Fuuta’s company. Something about him was rather… charming. 

“Me? You’re the asshole that will make things worse. You’re no doctor! Fuck you.”

Eh, maybe he had gone mad. 

He took comfort, at least, in the knowledge that Fuuta was growing more comfortable with him. He sure had a special way of showing it, but Mikoto didn’t brag about being a people-person for nothing – he picked up on the way Fuuta sought him out during the day, pretending to be involved in his own activities. The way he struck up a conversation, then acted as if it had been Mikoto’s idea to come over and bother him. 

Therefore it was exciting, though not surprising, when Fuuta allowed Mikoto to help treat his injuries. They had only done it a few times, but today brought a whole new challenge. 

“I’m not performing surgery or anything. Shidou said it just needs some basic disinfecting.” He flashed his usual grin. “I have a steady hand – I’m a photographer, you know.”

Aside from Shidou, Fuuta hadn’t allowed a single person to look under his eyepatch. 

He remained unamused by Mikoto’s smile. For better or worse, he could always tell when it was forced. “It’s not like I have any proof of that. You could be awful at it, for all I know.”

“First chance I get, I’ll request a camera and prove it. Want me to take a picture of you first?”

“If you haven’t already messed up my face…” Fuuta’s focus was glued to the hand carefully reaching towards him. 

Mikoto pouted his lips. “Shidou trusted me enough with this. And you must have, because you agreed earlier. So If it’s not about me… You’re not scared, are you?”

There were some things that Fuuta didn’t stop to see through. He sputtered in surprise. “Hell no!” He lifted his chin, finally taking his attention off Mikoto’s hands. He stared defiantly. “I can take it.”

Mikoto felt a bit guilty for resorting to foul play. But not that guilty. “Good. Now hold still...”

He got right to it. One hand held ginger hair out of the way, while the other pinched the corner of the eyepatch. Fuuta’s good eye darted nervously around the room, avoiding the other's close-leaning face. Mikoto peeled it away swiftly, gently

As a horror movie buff, the injury didn’t faze him in the slightest. As someone who’d grown close to Fuuta recently, he felt a wave of anguish at the sight.

Fuuta squirmed. “It’s nasty, isn’t it…”

Mikoto reached down for some supplies. He considered mustering up a smile and saying there was no need to worry so much, but it would have been pointless. Times like these, it was kind of a relief when someone else could see right through him for a change. 

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Tch, I don’t need any pity from you.”

“I was going to say, you hide it well. You’re tougher than the warden gives you credit for.”

His cheeks flushed red. “I – I don’t need any flattery from you either!”

“Don’t need anything from anybody, huh?”

Before he could come up with a retort, he hissed through his teeth in pain.

“Ah, sorry.” Mikoto immediately retracted his hand from where it had been dabbing alcohol onto the injury.

Steeling his expression, he muttered, “it’s fine.”

Mikoto tried again. He made sure to move with even more steadiness, his face drawn up in concentration. He saw Fuuta’s features flinch when he touched him, but he stayed still. The two were silent, now, as Mikoto worked. Leaning his face so close made the short task feel much longer. The reddening in his cheeks didn't subside.

He expected Fuuta to snatch the fresh eyepatch away the moment he unwrapped it – he was shocked that Fuuta let him adjust it into place without a word.

“Alright. You’re all set.” He started packing up the kit.

“Listen, don’t tell the others. About my eye.”

Mikoto squinted. He gestured to the right side of his face. “I hate to break it to you, but the big patch kinda gives you away.”

“You idiot! I just mean, don’t tell them what it looks like.” He pulled his hood down over his hair. “I don’t need everyone trying to steal a look at it like I’m some sort of freakshow.”

“Hey, of course.” Mikoto gave him a smile, the kind they both knew was genuine. “I’ve got you.”

Fuuta nodded. He turned his face away, his fingers lingering over where Mikoto’s had just been. “... And… thanks.”

[good-beanswrites]

So, uh, may I request a director's commentary on your attack against me?

Why do you do this to meeee (and masterminding everyone else!!) Lol, well thank you for the ask regardless -- drabble is under the cut with my little commentary in pink!

“Amane, you must – please – !” Shidou’s voice changed from pleading to an icy calmness. “Kazui, hold her still.” 

So uhh I made myself sad realizing that no one would speak respectfully to Amane in this state -- Shidou would either use a placating kid-voice or a completely detached doctor voice. Kazui and Mahiru would also be tempted to use a protective kiddy voice, or they just talk amongst themselves and not directly to her...

Amane struggled from his grasp, but there was no hope of success. Even if her little form stood a chance against Kazui’s strength, even if her uniform wasn’t locking her arms in place, she knew she would not manage to draw up any power with all this pain rocking through her body. Her chest stung so that she could hardly breathe. The throbbing from her right eye made her dizzy.

I'm pretty sure the pain would be so overwhelming that it would stop her on its own, but I wanted to point out that she has so many obstacles in her way -- it really does feel like everything in the universe is against her. I wanted to do a lot more with her relationship with her god in this piece (feeling like he isn't there because everything is against her) but it kept sounding detached from the action. I ended up focusing on her tangible relationships rather than spiritual ones

Through her spinning vision, she could see Fuuta nearby. She was struck with the selfish thought that she wished she couldn't. He looked awful. Shidou had rolled him over so he wasn’t lying facedown in blood, but it still clumped in his hair and over his eyes. His arm was stuck at an odd angle. 

RIP FUUTA SORRY I INCLUDED HIM DIEDED 😭 Though I did include it to drive home the fact that at this point, even though we the audience knows he makes it, Amane is convinced this is the end for him.

“No,” she gasped. “Stop…” 

It was unclear who she was commanding. Shidou? Fuuta? God? Maybe all at once. 

She doesn't blame Fuuta per se, but this and a later line hint that she sees him in control of his fate. She was taught that life or death has nothing to do with medicine -- it's willpower and spirit -- so she's urging him to live as if it's something he can control for her sake. Similarly, she's feeling like she can control her own safety, as long as she makes god happy in these moments (which she currently thinks she's failing at by "letting" Shidou do his work)

The room wobbled as a wave of pain washed over her. Shidou’s hands were around her face. Though seeking her eye, he may as well have been covering her mouth with how suffocating it felt. Amane shook her head violently back and forth in an attempt to stop him.

I love Shidou but he definitely needed to be painted very villainous in this. Amane isn't one of his typical patients, and what would be really comforting to anyone else (speaking with calm precision, having strong and unshakable movements, reassuring hands offering care) is really traumatizing to someone who sees it as condemnation to hell :(

There was the ceiling – then Shidou’s face, far too close – a blood-spattered wall – Fuuta’s ginger hair caked in blood – the ceiling – intense gray eyes – the wall – a broken arm – ceiling – scowling lips – wall – ginger fur caked in blood – ceiling – a screaming mouth – blood-spattered floor – a paw bent the wrong way – ceiling – green eyes filled with fire – 

Crazy about the cat parallels!!! She is reliving her dooming moment over and over again! She cannot escape her "mistake"!! She will forever be haunted by that day, and it's repeating itself a little too perfectly for her liking!! Oh hey do we know what color Ms Momose's eyes are? I figured green was a safe bet

A hand clamped down on her head to keep her still. Her vision swam. She released a cry of anguish. The others probably thought it was from the pain, but she knew how to bite her tongue through pain. No, this was utter frustration.

Obligatory reminder that she's used to physical abuse because I hate myself apparently. I also wanted to highlight that there's a big gap of understanding between her thoughts and everyone else's

Then came a glimmer of hope. An angel.

Mahiru stood over her. Amane only had so many people left in this world who treated her kindly, didn't lead her towards sinfulness... and weren’t beaten to death. With the recent turn of events, Mahiru may be the only one left. 

Between the cat, her mother, and Fuuta, this girl has witness a lot of bloody beatings :( It's impressive she still likes cute things and has fun, colorful dreamscapes seeing how dark things have been to this point in her life

There was some arguing as Mahiru was told to leave, but she convinced the others to let her stay by Amane’s side. She smiled, though tears streaked down both her cheeks.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

That was it. Mahiru had been sent to save her. Everything would be alright.

Shidou’s tone was as cold as the disinfectant he was applying. “Tell her to hold still.”

Mahiru gave her a gentle nod. “Please, you have to listen to him.”

And just like that, the breath was knocked from her lungs. As quickly as her savior had come, she disappeared. Mahiru had turned against her, for the sake of that damned doctor.

Now Amane had nobody left in the world.

I'm still not sure if this part hit the way I wanted to, but at least writing it, I was struck with that gut-wrenching shock of betrayal. Mahiru, who always let other people stick to their beliefs and codes, is turning against her in her darkest moment.

She lashed out one last time before her injuries overtook her completely. Her adrenaline was receding.

“This is for your own good.”

It wasn’t. 

She’d experienced things for her own good. When her mother punished her, she’d repeat the reason for it over and over. When her father brought down his wrath, Amane knew exactly why he was doing so. Her teachers would ask her, when they’d finished giving out their discipline, if she’d learned her lesson. It made sense. It was fair.

Trying to build up a painful dissonance between making the reader think "yeah, this isn't for her own good!! Please, stop doing this to her!! She's right!!" and being plagued with "oh god that wasn't for her own good either... oh... she's not right about that..."

There was no lesson here. 

I was tempted to go into detail that technically Kotoko tried to offer a lesson, and drag the reader through all the awful things Kotoko told her while beating her up, but Amane wouldn't see that as a lesson, either, thinking she and Es are mislead. Including all that for no reason would have just ruined the flow of these paragraphs, but I was sad thinking of what she must have been yelling at Amane, much like her abusers...

One must work towards holiness. Amane had been working her whole life. She’d fought to learn from each punishment. She tried so hard to be good. But now, there was nothing to learn, nothing to strive for. There was nothing at all. Yuzuriha Kotoko was killing her, Kajiyama Fuuta was leaving her, Kirisaki Shidou was dooming her, Shiina Mahiru was betraying her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do. 

Hopelessness was a trial all on its own.

This last line read "Unfairness" until literally two minutes before I posted asdfsd. I was worried it was too melodramatic to say hopelessness, but unfairness kept bugging me since it was SUCH an understatement 😭I figured it was better to lean into the drama than not do her pain justice. I was already drilling it in with that last paragraph summary, so I wanted to keep saying things exactly as they were.

[good-beanswrites]

*Knocks on door* heard we could ask for director's commentary on our punishments...would like to know what you were thinking for the Es Quest Bad End in more detail....

Haha, sure 😂 It's all under the cut, my rambly thoughts in pink!

You open your eyes. 

I'm a sucker for the repetitive loop starts, I had to open with something recognizable :) Writing in second person present tense was a really new and fun project for me, haha. Also, not that this took a long time to draw, but it gave me a new appreciation for you adding a drawing to pretty much every update omg >:0

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. 

My attempt of channeling autistic coded Amane... both seeking the familiar/routine no matter the cost, and trying to act more knowledgeable to avoid the shame of not understanding :( Both in canon and in esquest I'm so emotional about how Amane finds comfort in things that normally are healthy -- religion, community, family, rules -- but they aren't healthy in her case. I tried to paint the loops/eternity as something good here, planning on flipping it around by the end.

(Also, I went with the catholic practice of capitalizing He/Him for God -- I know Amane isn't catholic but I liked the effect)

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?

Ah, the painful divide of being hopeful, but trying to convince yourself you were never hopeful in the first place, or that it was wrong to be, so that the disappointment stings less :(

“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.”

She's just a kid!!! Kids lie on instinct when they panic!!! (I mean, adults lie on instinct when they're panicked too...) I wasn't sure how rebellious you view her in the story, but I felt like she loved/feared God enough to immediately try and correct her mistake without necessarily admitting to it. A smooth cover up so that she doesn't feel guilty but also doesn't get in trouble. I feel like she'd be toeing this line a lot...

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?”

Once again, I'm sure how omnipotent he is in your version, but I pictured him knowing absolutely everything. He knows how high she had her hopes. He knows what she's hiding from him now. But he's playing it cool and making her come out and say it.

“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.”

I debated on having Amane actually witness Es defeated, had proof of some kind. I decided that leaving it up to God's word made it hurt more -- readers (myself included) would still have hope that maybe is Es really is coming back, and God is just saying that to keep her complacent. The unknown makes it even more painful to watch Amane give up that hope and turn her back on the possibility.

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. 

I was trying to keep these are drabbles but honestly there could have been a whole fic focused on this in-between time: how long did it take before the next hero came? What did Amane do when God told her she'd have to do it all again? I wanted to make her Big Choice having to do with accepting punishments, but I could have easily made this the Big Final Choice. What was it like, walking down to her cell and locking herself up, after everything? Is the new hero painful because they remind her of Es, they are nothing like Es, or she doesn't even give them a chance to find out?

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. 

Brief moment of showing just how much pain she's in but still can't process her emotions so she lashes out in violence, but also.... one (1) moment of catharsis as a treat. Go Girl Fuck Em Up! Also giving the audience a brief taste of hope that she's accepting herself and realizing how powerful she is (hinting towards her using that power to stand up for herself) only to drop it immediately after ;-; sorry ;-;

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.”

This was the closest I could get to the sting of "I'm not mad, just disappointed." I think if God was openly angry or cruel Amane would challenge him much easier, but she's so busy caring if she made people proud, if she didn't disappoint them, if she was good enough for them, that those things hurt the most to hear.

“I understand.” 

“Come with me.” 

This was right. This was just.

Once again a little catholicism while knowing Amane is her own religion -- there's a prayer at the beginning of mass where you chant "It is right and just [to give thanks to God]" It sounds pretty normal on its own, plus I might get to jumpscare people with it lol

Your feet remain stuck. Es...

No. You do need to do this.

For most of my planning process, I was set on using a little photoshop so that the final, desperate ask would come from you, actually! But I was really committed to the emotional pacing of the ending, and nothing takes someone out of the rhythm like "I would not fucking say that" 😅 The same thing stopped me from asking some of the typical commenters to send stuff in (plus I didn't want to implicate them in my crime 😅)

It was really fun considering ways that a fourth-wall voice may influence my story, but I knew the most emotional route was just some simple pleading right at the end. I wasn't sure it it would still hit as hard with the second person pov -- would it really feel like Amane was turning her back on You if you were already immersed as Amane? But I tried anyway asdfsdf

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. 

By this time, I wanted the cycles to suddenly feel suffocating to the reader, and reminding them of the many, many more loops Amane will be trapped in after this ends. And I'm still breaking my own heart with how she values "being good" over being treated decently...

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.

She is special, and is strong, and not just a weak child who relies on others to save her, but!!! In this case she does need saving!! She needs people looking out for her and protecting her!! That's not a shameful thing to admit! Even putting God's manipulative love aside, I feel like her insistence in canon to never be treated like a child just shows that she can't accept needing any help whatsoever -- to do so is the exact same as admitting she's weak/a failure/etc.

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.”

Just. Reminding everyone. And hurting myself. About how Amane will literally sacrifice herself physical and mental safety just to hear that said about her. Ah.

[good-beanswrites]

Okay, kyanako said that I can ask for a director's commentary on the fic you wrote for me.

Is there anything you’d like to share about writing this fic? Any thoughts during the writing? Maybe any questions for me?

Not you too 😭😭😭 Haha, but thank you for the option to ask you questions, because I actually do have a few! My normal commentary is in pink, but I put questions in blue :) Some of them are specifics about your characters, but I also just want to hear your takes on writing Es 👀 I don't write them super often, so I'm curious how you characterize them...

Es clutched at their head. Their fingers tore through their hair. It was the middle of the night, so they resisted the urge to shout. They didn’t want to draw any attention to themself. If they remained completely silent, though, they wouldn’t need to refrain from crying.

And so they cried.

I wanted to start off right away by setting the theme of Es experiencing the typical pain of a child in their position, but refusing to be treated like the are.

You see, there is only one sensation worse than waking up from an awful dream: waking up from a very, very, good one. 

I'm kind of relying on readers understanding this feeling already, I didn't really know how to put it into words 😅 (Is this common for people?) It's happened to me several times, and it genuinely can hit harder than a nightmare.

Es had grown accustomed to the nightmares that Milgram produced. In these dreams, Es might take the place of the prisoners. Their stomach would twist with horror at the blood on their hands. Other times, they found themselves in the victim’s shoes. They’d wake in a cold sweat, feeling hands closing around their throat, or weapons swung at their temple. 

I feel like a lot of fics (rightfully) focus on all the messed up things Es experiences on a daily basis, like this. I'm usually more upset by their canon lack of interest in their past and future. Their refusal to miss/hope for anything better is really what hurts me, and it took a while to figure out what may push them to the point of finally acknowledging it. I thought a dream was a good start. When you picture them, are they wondering about their identity a lot? Would certain things be enough to jog their memory, or do only extreme situations get through to them?

But they weren’t prepared for a dream of absolute peace. They were happy. They were laughing. There were people nearby, smiling. It was all emotion and no detail – not a single face, place, or voice, was clear – but they knew for sure what the dream had consisted of.

Es was with their family. 

I debated so long on naming specifics about what they saw, whether it was glimpses of your characters or small lines of dialogue... I still hadn't decided if I wanted the dream to be a real memory or just their imagination, though, so I kept it up to interpretation. (Also, I was so afraid of getting something wrong about who they'd be close to or how they'd react in your mind 😭 "he wouldn't fucking say that" fr). In an early draft of this, Es had fallen asleep while cataloguing the prisoners' family members, and dreamed that they were a part of some of those families. It wasn't as effective as I'd hoped, so I got right to the point and made it their own family here.

So uh, I guess, what would they dream about if it were 100% accurate to their real family? I also thought about making the dream a vision sent from them to communicate a message -- is this something that a family member could/would do? And which relative is Es closest to? I've heard you talk more about their father, but I wasn't sure if that necessarily meant they were the closest. (I wanted to make a more specific parallel with one of the prisoners. I'd pair them with Amane if they were close with their father, Haruka if it was their mother, Mikoto if it was a sibling. Since I wasn't sure, I thought Haruka was a safe bet.)

They choked out another sob. 

For the longest time, they wondered if they even had a past to remember. But that was all foolishness – Milgram was in the business of judging humans, not creating them out of thin air. They’d tried asking Jackalope, once. He turned out just as cryptic as some of the prisoners in their interrogations. Another time, they had considered using the prison’s mysterious machine on themself. There was no way to operate it alone, though. And when it came down to it, they were always alone.

Yeah. So. I made myself upset realizing the isolation Es feels :((( They're at Jackalope's mercy as much as the prisoners are, but they can never truly bond with the others over it. They're different from the prisoners, but they don't even have that much power over them (only responsibility). I thought about including an actual attempt to use the machine without someone watching over them, and what a risk that would be. It ended up taking the story way off-focus, but I wonder what could actually drive them to the point of doing something dangerous in the name of getting memories back, or would they always be accepting of the situation, given their personality?

They curled themself tight, dragging the bedsheets with them. Usually when they wondered about their past, mere curiosity washed over them. Now, they were flooded with an entirely new type of longing. It filled their chest. No, that wasn't it. Rather, the feeling left a wide hole through them.

I'm glad you thought the curling up was cute ;--; I just wanted the reader to remember how young and small they are ;----; I was sad writing this and needed everyone to remember along with me 😭

If they did have a family, had Es been stolen away? Could there be someone else out there right now, crying in the middle of the night, just as hard as Es was crying for them? The thought was not comforting.

Or, like Es, had they forgotten all traces of their connection? That possibility also did more harm than good.

Es tried to reassure themself – if this family hadn’t come looking for them, maybe it meant they weren't wanted in the first place. Maybe Es had been willingly turned over to Milgram, their parents glad to be rid of them.

That thought didn't help at all.

I had a lot of fun evilly choosing the most painful possibilities for Es to consider >:3 (<- SHE'S LYING SHE MADE HERSELF CRY). The uncertainty would hurt any any reader, but as my target, I hoped to pinpoint some exact things you'd mentioned in the past. I was picturing the art of Es' father hunting Milgram down, and some of your comments about them remembering and missing Es.

Something clattered out in the corridor. That must have been what woke them. They rose from bed, ready to raise hell. How dare one of the prisoners rip them from such a dream. Es could never return. The offender would pay for this. 

It took only a moment to put on their uniform and wipe the tears from their cheeks. They swung the door open to find Haruka stumbling down the hall. 

I'm always a sucker for the uniform being a symbol of Es' obsession with their role -- putting it on is the same as them putting up an act, even if they don't quite realize it.

“Prisoner number one, what the –” they grabbed his arm. Only then did they notice the dazed look in his eyes. His body flinched, waking from what must have been sleepwalking.

“Ah! W-warden!” He blinked, his mind still stuck somewhere else. “I’m s-sorry! What, ah… I was dreaming... She was – she was right here…”

After this part I tried ending the drabble with Haruka saying, "I was dreaming," and Es replying bitterly, "me too." Haruka then says, "it was about my family," and much quieter, Es repeats "me too." As much as I loved the exchange, I wanted the gut-wrenching pain of Es rejecting their family rather than missing them at the very end 😎👍

Es took a measured breath. They steeled their expression. There would be no unleashing hell tonight. They had lost sight of their role. They had gotten distracted with childish emotions and silly dreams. They were Milgram’s warden, not some kid like Haruka who wandered around the prison late at night looking for his mama. 

Es adjusted the hat over their hair. It was good, they told themself, that they couldn't remember a thing from the dream. They didn't need any of those people. They were perfectly fine on their own. Such a distraction would not happen again.

I had to mention the uniform hat again because I'm just too obsessed with the symbolism asdfsdfs. And yeah, like you said, all of this was an attempt to convince themself. They don't really believe it, but they have to make themself believe it, or else they'll be in even more pain...

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

“But, my p-parents, they were–”

“They’re not here. Nobody is. Back to your cell, prisoner.”

Of course "they're not here" is reflecting Es and Haruka both missing their parents, but I hoped the last line would also continue the parallels between them -- at the end of the night, Es is a prisoner here too :(

[good-beanswrites]

Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.

Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!

Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...

I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm

Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.

Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.

“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.

She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 

Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 

“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.

It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”

She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 

Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.

She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.

Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 

So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 

“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 

“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 

At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”

Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.

“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”

The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.

But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.

Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 

At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 

“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”

[good-beanswrites]

Hehe glad to see my attacks have been landing >:3 I have a bit to do, but I got the directors cut asks and I'll answer those soon, ty :D

[good-beanswrites]

"Prisoner @oboetemasuka ! 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!" (Hits you with some good ole OOA angst 👊) TW for Amane's cult mindset and brief descriptions of the injuries.

“Amane, you must – please – !” Shidou’s voice changed from pleading to an icy calmness. “Kazui, hold her still.” 

Amane struggled from his grasp, but there was no hope of success. Even if her little form stood a chance against Kazui’s strength, even if her uniform wasn’t locking her arms in place, she knew she would not manage to draw up any power with all this pain rocking through her body. Her chest stung so that she could hardly breathe. The throbbing from her right eye made her dizzy.

Through her spinning vision, she could see Fuuta nearby. She was struck with the selfish thought that she wished she couldn't. He looked awful. Shidou had rolled him over so he wasn’t lying facedown in blood, but it still clumped in his hair and over his eyes. His arm was stuck at an odd angle. 

“No,” she gasped. “Stop…” 

It was unclear who she was commanding. Shidou? Fuuta? God? Maybe all at once. 

The room wobbled as a wave of pain washed over her. Shidou’s hands were around her face. Though seeking her eye, he may as well have been covering her mouth with how suffocating it felt. Amane shook her head violently back and forth in an attempt to stop him.

There was the ceiling – then Shidou’s face, far too close – a blood-spattered wall – Fuuta’s ginger hair caked in blood – the ceiling – intense gray eyes – the wall – a broken arm – ceiling – scowling lips – wall – ginger fur caked in blood – ceiling – a screaming mouth – blood-spattered floor – a paw bent the wrong way – ceiling – green eyes filled with fire – 

A hand clamped down on her head to keep her still. Her vision swam. She released a cry of anguish. The others probably thought it was from the pain, but she knew how to bite her tongue through pain. No, this was utter frustration.

Then came a glimmer of hope. An angel.

Mahiru stood over her. Amane only had so many people left in this world who treated her kindly, didn't lead her towards sinfulness... and weren’t beaten to death. With the recent turn of events, Mahiru may be the only one left. 

There was some arguing as Mahiru was told to leave, but she convinced the others to let her stay by Amane’s side. She smiled, though tears streaked down both her cheeks.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

That was it. Mahiru had been sent to save her. Everything would be alright.

Shidou’s tone was as cold as the disinfectant he was applying. “Tell her to hold still.”

Mahiru gave her a gentle nod. “Please, you have to listen to him.”

And just like that, the breath was knocked from her lungs. As quickly as her savior had come, she disappeared. Mahiru had turned against her, for the sake of that damned doctor.

Now Amane had nobody left in the world.

She lashed out one last time before her injuries overtook her completely. Her adrenaline was receding.

“This is for your own good.”

It wasn’t. 

She’d experienced things for her own good. When her mother punished her, she’d repeat the reason for it over and over. When her father brought down his wrath, Amane knew exactly why he was doing so. Her teachers would ask her, when they’d finished giving out their discipline, if she’d learned her lesson. It made sense. It was fair.

There was no lesson here. 

One must work towards holiness. Amane had been working her whole life. She’d fought to learn from each punishment. She tried so hard to be good. But now, there was nothing to learn, nothing to strive for. There was nothing at all. Yuzuriha Kotoko was killing her, Kajiyama Fuuta was leaving her, Kirisaki Shidou was dooming her, Shiina Mahiru was betraying her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do. 

Hopelessness was a trial all on its own.