#(sling amane)

[amane-order-of-attack]

So....if hypothetical....an Amane turns into a small kitten...or a cattaur....or both.....its not my fault~

Meanwhile, back in the main group...

"What... what happened?"

Eyepatch is surrounded by cats.

The early Tiger looks furious about it.

The more injured one is trying not to fall off Cat.

[featheredclover]

September Rain

Chapter Eleven

Read from the beginning

Also on Wattpad

Chapter Ten>> <<Chapter Twelve

The afternoon sun was beaming down upon the ground in all its splendour. Coach Bakshi was in one of his “moods”, which meant that Arnav and Aman had to run ten laps.

Arnav cursed under his breath.

“I still think NK got the better deal”

“You are kidding?” Aman panted , “You should see the storeroom! It probably hasn’t been cleaned since my dad was here”

“Whatever” Arnav mumbled, “At least there is a roof above his head”

With a laugh, Aman shook his head.

“Bakshi won’t spare us till we win against Green”

Spotting the eagle eyed man, standing upright training a bunch of juniors, they hurried along.

“Can’t understand why Woodsmith gets these ex-army men as sports teachers. He is killing us”

“Stop being dramatic Mathur”, Arnav squinted against the harsh rays of sun, “If we win against Iyer, Bakshi is gonna be the one behind it”

Aman stilled in his tracks, hand on his hips.

“Win against Iyer? This isn’t about Dhruv, you know that right?”

He shrugged, “Anything for Cyrus”

Aman laughed as he picked up pace again, “Cyrus? Sure?”

“What are you being so smug about?”, he frowned.

“Your grudge against Dhruv isn’t for Cyrus, it’s for Khushi, Raizada”

Arnav looked away. Perhaps to evade Aman’s all knowing eyes. Perhaps to avoid giving away what he felt for her. 

“You couldn’t be more obvious you know”

Aman sat down on a patch of grass under their favourite oak tree, tucked in a corner, away from Bakshi’s field of vision .

Arnav let out a breathless gasp, “What?”

“In the picnic? All those rides where Khushi sat with Dhruv? If eyes could kill”, he chuckled.

“It was…” he struggled to finish.

“Jealousy! Happens when the girl you love spends time with another boy”, Aman supplied helpfully.

Arnav sat down with a sigh.

“Guess there is no point in denying it then”

“When?”, Aman asked with a fond smile.

“Honestly? I don’t even know” , he bit his lip.

“She has just…just... And I knew I wanted more. I have always wanted more. But the possibility of her feeling nothing-“

“You are crazy! Everyone except the two of you knew what you felt for each other”

Arnav frowned, “Mathur, what the-?”

“Remember when you got hurt on the football ground in class seven? She actually cried ! And then when you forgot your speech midway in assembly? She all but almost shouted it out to you. And that time you got your tonsils out? She celebrated her birthday in the freaking hospital!”

“Okay”, he smiled softly, “I am an idiot then, I should have said something sooner”

“Sooner?”, the smile wiped out from Aman’s face in a comical moment.

“You guys are dating?!” He slapped Arnav roughly on the back, who did nothing but grin.

“Well…we haven’t spoken about it…but yeah, I should hope so…”

Aman burst out laughing.

“What?” Arnav asked amused.

“How different are you from your siblings ha? Akash bhai and Payal Di didn’t spare a moment to flaunt their love to the world. But you two? I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was just a wedding invitation in my mail years later!”

—————-

Kicking off the dirt from his studs, Arnav sighed. He grabbed hold of his bag, stuffing the shoes in a plastic cover, which was almost in shreds. Making a mental note to change it, he turned around, only to still in his tracks.

Khushi stood across the road from the ground. Her pink sling bag ,standing out amidst the environment of grey and green. 

He drew in a deep breath. And yet couldn’t stop the smile from blooming across his lips. He swung his bag across his shoulder and jogged over to her.

“Khushi”, he said, kicking himself for a less than interesting greeting.

“I…I..had dance practice. It got over early, so decided to come here”

She wouldn’t keep her eyes on him, flitting around, like the butterfly he always thought she was. And it drove him crazy.

Grabbing her hand in his, he spoke “You got to see me play?”

She wrinkled her nose, a soft smile in place.

“No, I think I just missed the last few minutes”

His heart picked up pace at the playful disappointment in her voice.

“Well, next time I’ll give Bakshi ,the dance group’s schedule. That will make sure you won’t miss it!”, he winked.

“Wow! Make sure I am there when you do that!”, she chuckled.

He looked at her, and beamed with delight as she flushed under his gaze. 

“What?” She asked in a whisper.

Clearing his throat, giving his head a little shake, Arnav smiled.

“The basketball court might be empty by now?”

He answered Khushi’s puzzled “So?” , with a tug at her hand as he led them to the nearest shortcut.

——————

He bent over to grab one of the balls left behind. Twirling it over his index finger, he turned around, desperately wishing Khushi found it cool that he could do this.

“We got lucky Gupta!”, he grinned nervously.

He was rewarded with her gasp.

“You can do that?!”

“Ya!” , he said nonchalantly, while rubbing an awkward hand over the back of his neck.

Khushi smiled as she walked up to him.

“I wish I could do something besides swim and dance”

“Hey! You play tennis!”, he frowned.

“Arnav!”, she laughed, “I play them with you in your backyard! That doesn’t count “

“Hmm”, he pretended to think over her words, before shooting the basketball beside her ear.

“Hey!”, she cried out, “You almost got me!”

“Did I?” ,he  teased.

“How about I teach you some basics today Khush? We can graduate steadily to actually making you a decent player”

“I thought football was your forte’”, she smiled, her hands resting on her hip.

“As soon as you learn this, we’ll move over to football”, he smiled.

Dribbling the ball expertly, he moved behind her. Sliding his hands down her arms, he ignored the catch in her breath, even as his own nerves made their presence known.

He rested his hands beneath hers, which now held the ball.

“Lesson one. Dribble”, he whispered into her ear.

He showed her the movements, her hands imitating them in a daze. 

The sun had slipped away. The crescent moon was upon them. The streetlights were flickering on. And yet, for them it was as if time itself had settled in stillness.

Arnav stopped as he realised Khushi was no longer moving her hands along his.

Straightening up, he asked softly, “Khu-“

She turned around and flung her arms around his neck, letting her name rest half spoken in the air. 

Gathering her up in his arms, he held her closer. He wondered if he had done something wrong. Did something happen? He hadn’t even asked her how she was. Maybe something was wrong. Had someone said something?

She lifted her head up from his chest, derailing his train of thoughts.

He looked down, waiting for her to speak. Her eyes fluttered between his lips and his own eyes.

Arnav knew then. 

Bending his head in a flash, he kissed her, muffling the whimper which escaped her. 

He kissed her. Thoroughly. With all his heart. With all that he felt for her. 

He couldn’t think about anything but how she felt in his arms. How right it felt to be like this. 

She broke apart, heaving as she attempted to catch her breath. Resting his forehead against hers, he couldn’t help smiling.

Guess he’ll soon have to learn all the silent signs and codes, he thought impishly.

“I guess that’s enough basketball for today?” Khushi laughed, her cheeks blazing red.

“Nope”, he whispered,”Not enough at all”

He cradled her head, before pulling her in again. 

————

He was still smiling, as he walked along the pathway to his dorm. He had dropped Khushi off minutes ago. But it still didn’t feel enough.

After that distraction, they had walked over to her dorm. Laughing, joking along the way. Just like they always did. 

He whistled in relief. Unbeknownst to him, a bewildering fear had been beneath his heart. The worry that they wouldn’t be able to go back to the equation they always had between them. Friendship brings ease. But love? The crazy emotion clawing at your heart? That snatches away all sense of easy. He knew that much.

“Raizada”

Arnav turned around.

Dhruv stood before him, in all his glory. Dressed in his green jersey, he was the formidable opponent Arnav had to face soon.

“You know there is a match next Saturday?”

He hated the artificial smile this guy sported. As if his tactics were invisible to everyone.

“Why? Are you going around reminding everyone?”

“Don’t push it Arnav”

He rolled his eyes, “Push what? You were the one who called me?”

“Just saying. Loitering around will do you no good”, he said, his eyes glinting at something more.

“I would say the same for you Iyer. If you want to prove something, do it on the grounds”

“I will”, Dhruv grinned, “In front of everyone. How nice will it be to crush you,with so many witnesses!  Headmistress, teachers, your Bakshi , beloved Cyrus……Khushi”

Arnav’s eyes flared, echoing the fury ignited in his heart.

“What?”

“Watch out, Raizada. I don’t play fair”, his face was set in a mask.

Arnav felt no dread. He knew that now no one was going to stop him from going all out this Saturday. But God help him, if this bastard brings his Khushi into this mix.

-----------

Next chapter>>

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[kurov1864]

How Milgram characters act when drunk

For legal reasons they are all of drinking age I swear!! Please don't cancel me I just wanna write them a lil silly :(

Not Amane tho

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

Haruka: Clumsy and emotional drunk. It's like his normal personality, but emphasized by a hundred times. You have to pay extra attention to your words because when he's drunk, he can take any sentence you say and twist it so badly he'll convince himself that you think he's the scum of the earth. He's also quite clumsy, slurring his words, mixing up which hand is which, accidentally smacking your face when trying to hug you. Be patient with him, would you? He's trying his best.

Yuno: Bitter or happy drunk. It depends on her mood honestly. If she's drinking around fun and lively people, she'll be a happy drunk. The life of a party, teasing and flirting around, doing drunk karaoke, basically having an all around good time. If she's not in a good mood though… she'll become a bitter drunk. She'll let her usual sweet and cheerful facade slip and become her natural pessimistic self, muttering about her regrets and whatnot.

Fuuta: Sleepy drunk. He's literally the type to start off strong and rowdy then nod off in the middle of the conversation. His energy would slowly start to ebb during the early night, and he'll be completely knocked out by the time it's 11pm.

Muu: Emotional and sleepy drunk. She'll be crying left right and center about the unfairness of the world, trying to rationalize and convince everyone that she's the victim, all while slurring her words and eventually nodding off.

Shidou: Wistful drunk. He will reminiscence about his family 90% of the time, which would then lead him to tear up slightly. If you manage to get him in the other 10%, he'll talk about the "good ol days" with you, laughing about past experiences and maybe even complain about the new generation together, who apparently think it's acceptable to stay up writing headcanons about characters that don't exist at 3:55am.

Mahiru: Happy and affectionate drunk!! I think that's pretty obvious. She'll be giggling at everything and nothing, all while slinging herself over your body and trying to physically mush you together because she's just so full of love for you!!

Kazui: Impulsive and nostalgic drunk. We know that Kazui has lots of things he wants to act on. Alcohol is a very good way of making him forget about his worries and simply doing what he wants. When he gets tipsy he already would be spilling his life stories out. Good luck trying to get him drunk though, he has a highhhh tolerance.

Mikoto: Another friendly and affectionate drunk. Very warm and approachable, would definitely drag you to a couch just to cuddle. He'll want to talk about his lost passions and interests that he could never pursue because of his workload, telling you his plans for projects he would never pursue.

Kotoko: Talkative drunk. It's just her true personality without all the layers of wariness. She'll discuss with you about the ethics of her "job", the flaws of the legal system, the fucked up way that victims are treated in this society. Very passionate and doesn't have as much self-control as she does when she's sober, so be careful not to piss her off too much lmao

Es: Emotional and affectionate drunk. They WILL cling to you to make up for the amount of affection they have not received during their time as a warden. Please comfort them and tell them they're okay. Please. On an unrelated note, they can also get really passionate just like Kotoko. Just more open to discussion I suppose. Might let a few details about the prisoner's MV slip to you, but they'll never try to purposefully tell their story without consent :D

Jackalope: If he gets fed alcohol he'll die. Good riddance.

[oboetemasuka]

Rams' horns

Based on a two-person picrew that I got tagged in. After seeing the eyepatch and bandage options, I knew I had to make my favorite duo in "Order of Attack". I added the Rams' horns for the effect as well.

[Image ID: Fuuta and Amane with their injuries in "Order of Attack". Fuuta has bandages around his head and his left arm in a sling. He is facing the side and staring blankly ahead. Amane has an eyepatch and a bandage on her chin. She is hunched over and staring at the viewer with her good eye. Both have rams' horns coming from their temples. The background resembles prison cell bars. /end ID]

Picrew images below the cut

[Image ID: Two picrew images related to the above drawing. Fuuta is wearing a hoodie. In the left image, his eyes are visible, but in the right, they are covered by bandages. Amane is wearing a black blouse with a white collar, and she is holding a book. In the left image, her face is unadorned, while in the right, she has an eyepatch and bandages. /end ID]

[good-beanswrites]

A little alternate scene to @kyanako5972 's Amane request. I like the other drabble a bit better regarding how things would actually play out, but I couldn't resist trying something that included Fuuta. He's Amane's closest friend. He's the other person to openly say he'll go after a child and not give them special treatment. He literally looks like the orange cat she saved. I couldn't cover it all but there's just so much going on with them. Warning for references to Amane's cult/abuse mindset.

“Jeez, you scared the crap outta me…” 

Fuuta looked up to find Amane standing over his bed, staring intently as he woke. Amane knew he was doing his best to appear upset with her for the intrusion, but his grimace could be mistaken for pain in his condition. 

She knew she didn’t look much better, an eyepatch tucked under her short hair and bandages circling her body. It had taken all her strength to rise and make her way to his cell. She was used to walking off a bit of pain, but this was a different level altogether. 

She opened her mouth. She had come in here with a mission. She had her speech prepared. She didn’t write it out like her father was known to do, but she did rehearse it a few times quietly to herself, as she’d seen from him. 

Fuuta had listened to her when no one else would; there was a chance her passionate words could convince him to reject that doctor’s evil work and find the light. They could shed these bandages together, becoming pure and following their intended paths. She’d already tried removing her eyepatch several times, but there was always someone there to put it back on. It had been hard to fend off so many overbearing adults, the way her body screamed at her each time she tried. She despised them. She was suffocated by them.

But with Fuuta by her side, she could do it. There was power in numbers. Her mother, Es, Kotoko – all of them thought she was wicked. They weren’t important. They were only human. She could still be a good girl, in the ways that mattered. They could be good together. 

“Kajiyama Fuuta.”

“What?”

But the words caught in her throat. 

His voice was so weak. It was nothing like the way he spoke to her before. His eyes dulled with exhaustion, half-hidden under ginger hair. She couldn’t keep her gaze from the makeshift sling Shidou had put together with one of the bedsheets. It didn’t look much different than her own handiwork. The thought brought with it a surge of pride, which immediately made her tremble with shame. 

He had changed so much. This wasn’t the same person she had found camaraderie in before. If only she could help him. If only she could save him.

No. There was a right way and a wrong way to help him, and she mustn't be led astray. She had come here to help in the right way. Thoughts spun rapidly through her mind. Her trembling worsened. Her chest ached, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the emotions or the broken ribs. She just had to follow through. She had to be good. She had to –

“Stop being creepy,” he wheezed. “Just spit it out.”

“I – I have to go.”

She spun around. She could save Fuuta another day.

“Oi, Amane.”

“I said I have to go.”

“I'm sorry.”

She paused in the doorway to the cell. She glanced back at him, curious.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m just... Sorry that happened to you. It was a fucked up thing to do.”

Amane shook her head. She held her chin high. “It was meant to be, and thus, I can bear it. You must, too.”

Fuuta's laugh turned into a cough. “You’re a weird kid. But tougher than I gave you credit for.”

Amane couldn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

[dwarrowdelf]

o my brother

Seven drabbles for @maedhrosmaglorweek which I’m definitely not two entire weeks late for 😅 You can also read them on AO3 with any relevant author’s notes, but I’m posting them there in batches.

one: childhood/growing up

Of the brothers, Maedhros and Maglor were closest in age. They spent nearly their entire childhoods as a family of four, roaming the cultivated wildlands of Aman. Tirion upheld them as darlings, once the crown prince returned to the city: bright-haired, quick-witted Maitimo and sweet-voiced, silver-tongued Macalaurë, ever together. Two shining jewels to adorn any debate parlor, concert hall, or royal party. There were the other brilliant princes, and of course the beloved princesses, but the eldest house was ever the most brilliant and most beloved by the Noldor, in the days before Morgoth spread his discord to peaceful Valinor.

two: the oath

Maglor had not, as many suspected in later years, helped to craft the oath. Fëanor was a great orator and wordsmith in his own right without his second son’s help.

Their father had stood in the square under the Mindon and spoken his oath fiercely and without forethought. And what a rousing oath it was! The younger sons had been quick to follow. Maglor had looked to Maedhros and found him already looking back. Neither of them had wanted to swear it, but they had agreed, with that look, not to abandon their little brothers.

Funny how that worked out.

three: the long peace

“I cannot believe the audacity of that boy!”

“‘That boy’ is the Lord of Nargothrond,” Maedhros says, amused.

Maglor whirls on him, finger pointed in a hilarious mirror of their mother at her most high tempered. “He’s our little shit of a cousin who abandoned us on a hunting trip that he planned and then found the Secondborn! Without us! No, don’t look at me in that tone of voice, I’m very cross!”

Maedhros’s tremulous hold on his expression cracks, and he breaks into laughter. Maglor smiles to himself, relieved to see the tension finally slipping from his brother’s shoulders.

four: nirnaeth arnoediad, reputation

Maedhros’s well-earned reputation precedes him. Orcs would sooner run than face him, fearsome as he is; even trolls and wargs are wary.

Maglor’s reputation precedes him too, carefully crafted. The kind brother, the soft brother, nevermind that softness alone could never hold the least defensible line of the leaguer. But it is good to be underestimated, good to let everyone forget that he was the one Maedhros trained against when relearning the sword.

That soft reputation is why Ulfang’s eyes are wide with shock in the head that Maglor cleaves from his body for the crime of betraying his brother.

five: change and loss of self

Being burnt by the Silmaril did not break Maglor as it broke his brother, though losing him nearly did. What broke Maglor, in the end, was realizing that the burn would never heal such that he could play any two-handed instrument again.

He contemplated, then, following in the footsteps of his brother or grandmother.

But many years ago, when Maedhros still could not leave his sickbed, they had picked apart the Oath. It seemed fit to kill them all, but they thought if just one of them lived, perhaps the rest might have a chance, however small.

So Maglor lives.

six: alienation and isolation, AUs and fix-its

Maglor dreams, sometimes: a voice telling him it is time to come home. His mother telling him not to stay out too late, his father calling that dinner is ready. Maedhros as he had been, slinging an arm around his shoulders and telling him he’s done enough and to stop hiding in his room before they all forget what he looks like.

Sometimes he wakes up after those dreams at dawn or dusk, and a red-orange sky tricks him a moment longer.

He confesses all of this to a stranger near Mithlond, and finds himself on a boat sailing West.

seven: fate

Maglor never came to the timeless halls, and Maedhros feared. The only tapestry he could find of his brother was a vast stretch of shore with one figure, alone, walking. Anyone who might have news, he asked.

Lost, faded, disappeared, they all said, some even with pity.

Maedhros reembodies last of his brothers, and there, there is Maglor. Maedhros folds himself without thought into supplication older than Valinor, begs forgiveness from the one he most wronged.

Two scarred hands deign to cradle his face. “There is no need. Only do not leave me again, I beg you.”

“Never,” Maedhros swears.

[polutrope]

Hi! If you're still taking the Silm phrase prompts, Finrod + shadows of things that were yet to be? — @emyn-arnens

Thank you for the prompt! This is quite a bit different from my usual. I experimented with writing a draft by hand, and this is what came out.

~1400 words of child Finrod, recounting the experience of one of his first forebodings. On AO3.

I was born in Tirion, in my father’s wing of the Palace, but I was still a babe when Mother first brought me to Alqualondë.

When I told Father this story, he asked, “How do you remember that?” But I remember everything, like Grandfather Olwë who they say has the longest and clearest memory of all the Eldar, at least of those who made the Journey to Aman (he says his brother Elwë remembered more). As the Noldor, my father’s people, have the greatest skill in craft and lore, the Teleri, my mother’s people, have the greatest skill with memory. For the Teleri call themselves Lindar, Singers, not only because they have the most beautiful voices, but because they perceive the world and their lives within it as a Song. Each emotion a note, each experience a chord, each event a whole movement. Songs, at their root, are stories. And when you make stories of your life, you never forget. 

Sometimes, we even remember things that have not yet come to pass. This is called foreknowledge or foretelling. It is not unusual for the Eldar, Father says, but I am very young to have such powers (as he calls them). He didn’t say as much, but because I can hear minds even when they do not speak with voices, I know that he thinks this particular foretelling should not be possible in the Blessed Realm. Perhaps he is right that this memory is not a foretelling at all but thoughts and images my mind put together in a story to help me make sense of them. But Queen Míriel died in Aman, so perhaps what I saw on that first visit to Alqualondë could happen also.

Mother had me swaddled to her chest in a sling, and her voice purred in my ears as she held up one arm to point: “See, Ingo? There is the great mansion your grandfathers built together. Olwë envisioned its rounded shapes and its roof like cresting waves, and Finwë made it strong using the language of numbers and patterns.” The wind was whipping my soft hair around my face and she stroked it back. “But come, let me show you the most beloved creation of our people.” I felt the rhythm of her footfalls as she walked us down the pier. “For in the building of ships we received no aid from the Noldor. Ossë taught us this craft before we came to these shores.” She took her arms away from me for a moment, to help her up the ladder onto the royal swanship.

My head fell back and I saw the tall mast reaching up, up, up into the sky streaked with pink and gold. The sky is never as bright and blue here as it is in Tirion, for the Pelóri stand between Laurelin and the coast. Mother was still speaking to me in her lilting voice, bouncing and cupping my little body with both hands, but her words faded to a murmur of sound without meaning. 

“Stop them!” a voice cried, and my sight was obscured as with a grey gauze. “They are manning the ships! Stop!” Something whizzed past at the very edge of my field of vision, and I looked down to see what it was. Perhaps a seabird swooping low. I looked up at Mother, but she smiled at me and showed no sign of noticing. 

Again something flew past and I knew it for an arrow. I had only seen anyone use a bow once, when we visited Uncle Nolofinwë soon after I was born. Cousin Findekáno had been in the courtyard practising his shot with a bow made for play. But these arrows flying between the shadowy veil between the present—on my mother’s chest, a bright warm day—and the memory of what would be—dark, dark as the blackness of sleep, and full of shouts—were long and swift and some struck the ships so hard their points drove right through. Someone screamed. I did not see them fall, but I heard the splash that swallowed the scream in the sea. I had never heard anyone scream that way, as if all their voice was loosed at once. It pushed a scream from my lungs, too, and Mother’s lips stopped moving and she held me closer and hid my eyes against her chest. But that was worse, because it hid the bright day so that all I could see now was the dark memory full of shouts and clanging metal and whizzing arrows and bodies falling in the water. 

“Shh, shh,” she said, bouncing up and down to comfort me. I pounded my fists against her chest, pushing so I could see again with my eyes. Then I found her face, and she was smiling and started to sing. Mother’s songs are powerful. She pulled me back from the shadowy place. “Are you hungry?” she asked when my tears had stopped. No, I was not hungry, but I could not tell her because I could not yet shape words with my mouth. “Come, let us go back and find you some fishcakes. Would you like that, my golden star?”

Later, when I could speak with words, I did not tell anyone of that memory. By then I had many other memories layered on top of eachother, both of things that had been and things that would be. Most were joyous, and those ones I made into songs that made others smile and laugh and sometimes cry, but always with happiness. I did try, once, to put the memory from the swanship into a song, but it made my heart tighten and my stomach twist and I did not think it would be fair to share such unpleasant feelings with others. 

Then a few days ago, Turukáno (he is my favourite cousin) came to visit us in Alqualondë. Our mothers took us to the beach, and we built sandcastles and splashed in the waves. While we were playing, Turukáno suddenly went very still and his skin was full of tiny bumps as if he was cold, even though it was an especially warm day and there was no wind. I hugged him to warm him with my body but he did not move for some time. When he came back, and met my eyes, he didn’t say anything. We went in and wrapped up in our towels, and Mother gave us juice and melon and soon he was smiling and laughing again. 

But I was not able to put out of my mind the strange mood that had come over my friend, so when we were tucked in bed for sleep, I asked him what had happened. 

“It is nothing,” he said at first. But Turukáno and I shared everything, so I asked him again. Then he told me what had frozen him with fear: it was the same memory, or very similar, I’d had on the swanship with my mother. 

It was not the first time Turukáno and I shared a memory. We share dreams often, sometimes on purpose, so that we can be together even when he is Tirion and I am in Alqualondë. But we’d never shared this sort of memory. Poor Turukáno had never even had a memory of the future before!  

When Father came in to check that we were asleep and found me holding Turukáno and Turukáno crying, of course he was worried. But I wouldn’t tell him what happened, not then, because Turukáno was so scared already. 

“I promise to tell in the morning,” I told Father. 

So I did, I told him this morning, because I did not want him to worry. I think it would have been better if I had not, because he has been walking about the home all day fretting with the hem of his tunic. I heard him asking Mother if he should tell Anairë, because of Turukáno, and if she thought we should make a journey to Lórien to ask the Vala’s aid in “interpreting memories”. 

But Irmo knows the Theme of Arda, what if we discover that the memory Turukáno and I shared is true? I do not think I could live with that certainty. I know that Turukáno could not. Father will not force me to go, and I won’t. It is safer, I have decided, for some memories not to be put into speech or Song. 

Thanks to @cuarthol for the beta!

[hypn0sssss]

Happy Valentine's Day!

This is my @milgram-valentines-exchange gift for @thatbiblicallyaccuraterat !!

This was really fun to write! I haven't written either Amane nor Mahiru before, so I hope I did good with staying in character! Also, sorry if the formatting is weird lol! I hope you like it!! :D

TW for mention of Kotoko's attacks and Amane-typical religious themes

“Amane-chan!”

Amane had been sitting in her cell when she hears a familiar, cheery voice from outside. She turns to see Prisoner 006, Mahiru Shiina at her door. She's still in her wheelchair, like she has been since Yuzuriha's attacks. She smiles at Amane, waving at her with her non-bandaged arm.

“Are you busy? I need your help with something, if you don't mind!”

Amane doesn't know what to say. Shiina is rather pure, in a way that stands out in such a sinful world. But isn't she a sinner as well? Allowing herself to let that sinful doctor to ruin her trial like that, with no defiance whatsoever.

But… the way Shiina smiles at her, Amane can't help but want to help her. Despite the misdeeds done against her by Es and Yuzuriha, she's still smiling wide. But that doesn't fully hide the pain in her expression.

Amane relents, standing up from her bed.

“...What do you need, Mahiru Shiina?”

Shiina somehow smiles even wider. She rolls over to Amane. “I want to make a gift for everyone!”

“A gift?”

Shiina nods. “I asked the warden for some bracelet making supplies! And they got some for me, but… it's hard to make them by myself.” She gestures to her slinged arm.

Amane hesitates. She sees no use in making such childish things!

…But the way Shiina looks at her, with such determination in her eyes and such a bright smile, Amane can't help but relent.

Not because she wants to make bracelets or anything silly like that. Not at all. She pities Shiina, that's all.

“Amane-chan?”

“...Fine.”

Once again, Shiina somehow smiles wider. Any pain that was once in her expression seems to disappear, replaced with the brightness of her smile.

“Thank you, Amane-chan!”

There's a moment of slightly awkward silence between the two. Then, Shiina chuckles awkwardly.

“Ah, could you please push me to my cell?”

Amane lets out a sigh and pushes Shiina’s wheelchair back to her cell. When they get there, Shiina gets comfortable on her bed, and Amane sits on the floor. Shiina hands her the bracelet stuff, and starts to tell her what to do.

….

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Amane was supposed to be telling Shiina about the sins she's committing by letting the sinful Kirisaki Shidou treat her. Telling Shiina that she should let her trial run naturally, and not to interfere. That's what the rules of God say.

But she's not doing that. She's sitting on the floor, doing childish crafts, letting Shiina pick out the colors that she wants for each prisoner’s bracelet.

She had finished Sakurai’s and Kashiki’s. She was now working on Kajiyama’s. Shiina had picked shades of red and orange for his.

Amane had never made bracelets before. It turns out that it is just a tedious repetition of putting colored beads in patterns.

Shiina hums rhythms that Amane does not recognize. It must be some of that sinful music that mother tells her to avoid. But Shiina seems to be enjoying it, so Amane will let it slide. Just this once.

She's almost done with Kajiyama’s bracelet when Shiina speaks up.

“You're very good at this, Amane-chan! Are you sure you haven't done this before?”

“No, I have not.”

She puts the last bead on the bracelet, tying the knot on the bracelet. Double knotted. That's what Shiina has said.

“Well, that's impressive! You're impressive Amane-chan!”

Amane looks away. She feels slightly patronized, but her voice is so sincere that Amane can't find it in herself to tell Shiina off.

Why is Amane feeling like this? Is she growing weak?

There's an awkward silence for a while. She grabs another piece of string as Shiina realizes that Amane isn't going to answer.

“Ah, anyways! For Muu-chan’s bracelet, I was thinking…”

…

The monotonous pattern of bracelet making happens again as she finishes Kusunoki’s bracelet.

“That looks great, Amane-chan!” Mahiru smiles wide once again. “For Shidou-kun’s bracelet-”

“No.” Amane interrupts. She already felt immature doing these extremely crafts, but she draws the line at making something for such a horrible sinner.

“But, Amane-chan-”

“We refuse.”

Shiina seems to notice the change in Amane's tone and word choice, because she drops the topic. “Alright. Then for Kazui-kun’s bracelet, I was thinking these nice teals over here!”

The words come out before Amane could stop them. “What about your's, Shiina?”

Shiina seems surprised for a moment before she answers. “You can call me Mahiru, Amane-chan!” When Amane doesn't answer, she continues. “These are supposed to be gifts! It's kind of silly to make a gift for yourself!”

That logic doesn't make much sense to Amane. “...I'm making the bracelets though, Shiina. Pick some colors.”

She doesn't know why she's doing this. She wants this childish activity to be over, doesn't she? Why is she prolonging this?

“Are you sure, Amane-chan?”

No, she's not. “Yes, I am.”

“Ah, then this orange… and this yellow, please!” She points to the colors. Amane gathers the colors and starts making the bracelet.

The room as silent as Amane starts the routine again. Put a bead on, put a bead of the other color on. Shiina watches in silence as Amane continues.

In what feels like no time at all, Amane finishes the bracelet. After making sure the knot was tight enough, she gets up from her spot on the floor. Her legs are slightly sore from sitting for so long.

She walks over to Shiina's bed. “Hold out your wrist.”

Shiina smiles, but there's some hesitation in her smile. Amane doesn't know why.

“Amane-chan, you didn't have to…”

“It is too late for that, Shiina. Please hold out your wrist.”

After a moment, Shiina follows Amane's instructions, holding out her uninjured wrist. Amane slips the bracelet on with care.

Shiina rotates her wrist, admiring the bracelet. She then turns to Amane, once again smiling wide. “Thank you so much, Amane-chan! This is so cute!”

“...There is no need for gratitude.”

…

After that, Amane continued making the bracelets. She finishes Mukuhara’s and Kayano’s with no problems, and was eventually convinced by Shiina to make one for Yuzuriha. Why would Shiina want to make one for Yuzuriha despite what happened? Amane can't figure it out. Shiina is too kind for her own good.

“Thank you so much for this, Amane-chan!”

Amane finishes packing up the bracelet making materials. “It was nothing.”

“Don't say that, Amane-chan!” Shiina reaches for something in her pocket. Amane didn't realize that Mahiru's uniform even had pockets. “I have something, as a thanks! Come here!”

Amane tilts her head in confusion, but stands up. She walks over to the bed, where Mahiru was.

“Now, hold out your hand!”

When Amane holds out her hand, Shiina pulls out a bracelet. It is… nice. The different shades of green seem to match her hair.

Shiina smiles wider as she puts it on Amane's wrist. “I had asked Mikoto-kun it help me make it!”

“Thank you, Shiina.”

As she said this, a chime rang through the prison. It is time for bed.

“Thank you so much for this again, Amane-chan! This meant a lot!"

“...It was no problem, Shiina.” Then Amane left the room.

Maybe making bracelets with Shiina wasn't as childish and tedious as Amane thought.

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine being the child of Tulkas and Nessa

Warnings: None, family fluff, laughing, Tulkas and Nessa being the most loving parents ever. 

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

-It was a peaceful day. The people of Aman were casually going about their day, buying things from the market and talking with their neighbors. 

-Then – out of nowhere – the earth began to shake, causing fright and confusion among the people until they saw Tulkas, the champion of the Valar, yelling something while running through the streets. 

-” He’s/She’s here!” He yelled as he ran toward his realm, which he shared with his wife, Nessa. His footsteps that caused the earth to crumble, vanishing into the distance. 

-The elves were left confused but curious. They wondered who came to cause the champion of the Valar to run through the realm. They got their answer when they heard the latest news; Nessa had gone into labor. 

-Tulkas quickly arrived at his home, searching for his beloved in a frantic yet excited state. 

-His Maiar quickly guided him toward his shared chambers, where Nessa was currently resting. 

-The champion of the Valar was almost jumping on his feet. The thought of finally meeting his little one after several months made him excited yet fearful since he did not want to miss their birth. 

-The birth of their little miracle, which no one expected to happen. 

-It was a surprise when he and his wife learned they were expecting a child. They thought it was impossible, but it didn’t make it less exciting, and now, their little one was finally here. 

-Unfortunately for Tulkas, when he arrived at his chambers – he saw Nessa already holding a bundle in her arms which meant he had missed the birthing. He was disappointed, but it made him sigh in relief when he saw his wife alright since he had heard many things about how birthing can cause complications or immense pain. The thought of his beloved wife being in pain made him anxious for many months, so he was relieved Nessa did not face any problems while giving birth to their little one. 

-On the contrary, she possibly had one of the most uncomplicated births Arda had ever seen.

-When Tulkas heard the little whimpers coming from Nessa's arms – he quickly went to lay on the edge of the bed and stared at the little babe. 

-Nessa ushered him closer and then laid the bundle into his arms. He was almost frightened to hold them, but he took his little one into his arms and looked at them with wonder and amazement.

-It was you, his little champion. You were beautiful like your mother, and when you opened your eyes and looked at him – you giggled with an innocent smile. Tulkas fell in love with your little laugh. He couldn't help but kiss your little head, tickling you with his beard, which made you laugh even more.  

-And that’s how you were born. 

-Tulkas was excited to be a father, and after letting Nessa rest from the progress of birth, the two introduced you to the rest of the Valar, who were curious and excited to see you after hearing the news. 

-Many congratulated the new parents, and some were cooing at you.

-Manwe decided to hold a feast in honor of his friend and to welcome you into the world. 

-The news of your birth spread quickly. The elves were excited and happy for Tulkas and Nessa. Many were curious to see you as you had to be the first Ainur to be born from two Ainur parents. 

-Orome was happy for his sister and gifted you a puppy, so you had a friend to grow up alongside you. 

-However, Nessa and Tulkas were inexperienced, so they sought help from some of the elves, who were eager to help and give guidance on how to raise a child. 

-They both would spend a lot of time with you. 

-Tulkas especially loved spending time with you. He would not mind waking up in the middle of the night to soothe your cries or change your diapers. He would carry you around, and do everything, so Nessa would have to scold him to let her have some time with you. 

-They would compete for your attention… just a little. 

-Tulkas would carry you around in a little baby sling, showing you around Aman and the two trees. People would sometimes come outside and try to catch a glimpse of you since they were curious to see you. 

-Tulkas would love making you laugh. He would do the silliest thing to make you smile and giggle. 

-Sometimes, he would end up laughing with you, and together your laughing would bring smiles to those who hear it and nightmares to a certain fallen valar.

-Melkor would be the only one displeased to hear one of his greatest enemies had a child. 

-Nessa would take you out for walks and meet animals. Sometimes, she would spin around with you like you were dancing together, making you shriek with delight. 

-She would love singing to you. She would lull you to sleep with Tulkas, and you would get fussy if you did not hear them sing before sleep. 

-Her voice would be soft, while Tulkas’s would be deep but soothing. You like sleeping on your father when he hums and holds you since his chest vibrates with his voice. 

-When you took your first steps, Tulkas and Nessa would shed tears of joy and encourage you as you learned how to walk to them. 

-When you got the hang of it, you would run around, giggling and laughing as Tulkas would chase after you like he was trying to catch you. 

-He would play wrestling with you and let you win. He would be a bit dramatic, lying on the floor defeated while you sat on top of him with a victorious laugh. 

-You’re rather energetic, so when your parents wish to have a break and some alone time – they let Orome babysit you. 

-Orome would be a fun uncle to you. He would take you on rides and allow you to play with his dogs. 

-You might have met young Celegorm and accidentally yanked some of his hair out, making him cry out of pain. 

-Your abilities developed early, so you had a bad habit of yanking people’s hair off and breaking fingers with your strength. It caused people to be careful around you.

-You would share a lot of physical attributes with your parents. Your father is the champion of the valar while your mother was the dancer, so you were quite strong and fast for a young toddler. 

-You became a bit troublesome when you reached the rebellious toddler phase. You would run away when it was time for baths and bedtime, and no one else but your parents would be able to catch you. 

-And you sometimes end up causing a mess by toppling over large cabinets and things to get cookies or treats for your puppy. 

-Those times are the only ones when your parents would scold you since they were worried you would accidentally hurt yourself. 

-You would be sad because you did not like making your parents unhappy, which would end up in tears and them comforting you. They would tell you it was alright. They were not mad at you, just worried. 

-Tulkas would be protective when you reach your teenage years. 

-He would happily teach you how to fight if you wanted. If not, he would happily watch you learn dancing from Nessa. He would support any of your hobbies, but when it came to relationships – that's when he puts his foot down and watches you like a hawk. 

-Especially if you were shy toward people. 

-It did not matter if it’s a boy or a girl who caught your interest. Tulkas would carefully observe and most likely take the individual out for a little chatz despite your protest. 

-You were his precious child, and he would allow no one to hurt your feelings. 

-In his eyes, you were still his little child, and he did not want you to grow up so fast. 

-You would have to rely on your mother to keep your father away if you ever wanted a chance at romance. 

-You love him, but rather not have him scare away all the potential partners. 

-You would grow up graceful like your mother, strong like your father, and spoiled with love because no matter the age, you would always be their little champion. 

[weather-cluddy]

The Purge March translation trivia

One thing I noticed is that between the trailer and Purge March's actual release, the chorus got reworded to sound considerably more lofty and literary. Deny vs disavow, "nary a sound", "eyes corrupted", that sort of thing. This goes even further for the rules section, which starts slinging around 'tis and thou.

And the thing is, this is not really the case in the original Japanese. The grammar isn't particularly archaic, nor is the word choice unusually complicated. But there is one line that stands out for something along those lines. Wanna know which one?

It's one of the last lines, translated as "You're sorry? I don't care!". Put literally, it'd be something like "Even if you apologize, bleh!" What's "bleh" supposed to mean, you ask? Well, it's the onomatopeia for the gesture of pulling your eyelid down and sticking your tongue out, sometimes blowing a raspberry for good measure. Not the most dignified behavior, is it?

And, you know, I actually want to focus on the last three lines more, because I think it's an interesting example of how a small change can make for a big shift. As a refresher, this is the official translation of the end of The Purge March:

"After you cry, repent, and kneel, it’s now your turn to say that hopeless 'I’m sorry' You’re sorry? I don’t care! Please, go ahead and die already. Remember MY cries, MY repents, MY words of “I’m sorry” that I said to you?"

Let's start with the first line. Translating it myself, I'd render it as "After you cry, repent and kneel, try and say 'I'm sorry'". As we can see, there's no implication that this happened to Amane first, and the word "hopeless" is not present either.

But this is actually the second time this particular line shows up. The first time time is right after the trailer part. You know, "these scum saying it can't be helped is unforgivable, let's crush their eyes and throat so they'll stop"?

Now this is my interpretation, but talking about how awful "they" (AKA, you) are and how they're going to be punished horribly and following it with a request (okay, order) for an apology… kind of makes it sound like redemption is possible? If it was just about getting rid of a worthless heretic, who cares if they apologize?

And sure, this redemption doesn't sound very pleasant! But then again, it never was for Amane, was it? That's probably part and parcel of "purification", to her. She did said that "they" would forgive our trespasses if we reflected and corrected our behavior, after all. And the lyrics right after this are "If you become a bad girl, monsters will come out. This is the magic that stops that from happening". The first stanza of Magic already told us what the magic word is: "Sorry." Taking all this into account, isn't it possible that this is intended a very, very tough love?

The stanza leading up to the second chorus also goes along similar lines. She says she doesn't need it/you anymore, if you're going to break your promise. She'll tear you apart, as punishment (though that word got skipped in the translation). She'll deal back what you gave her, so that this won't happen again. It's extremely aggresive, but the constant refrain is that this is deserved and will set everything right. Everything, perhaps including you. It seems like there's a small, faint ray of hope peeking through the clouds…

And that's where the twist in last two lines come in. You thought you could maybe worm your way into the light? Nope, she's already decided that you're done for! And this also marks a transition in the lyrics, from Amane as the avenging angel of justice she's been the entire song, to Amane as an imperfect human who, once upon a time, also had to cry, repent and kneel down. But that's not going to save you now.

That contrast doesn't exist if we already know that Amane tried and failed, nor does the implication that forgiveness is possible. Now, you could say that "scum that can't be helped" already foreshadows that they/you are supposed to be beyond salvation, but it gets a lot less focus than the "say you're sorry" line, much easier to gloss over as a simple play on words. So I still think that the last stanza is supposed to be unexpected, especially considering that it happens only fifteen seconds before the end of the song and has Amane dropping the singing for extra emphasis.

That's more or less all I have to say about the song itself, but I'd like to double back on something I glossed over. Now, maybe your ears perked up when I said that the original lyrics include the word "punishment", but I should note that this is not the same word as the tagline "Doubt your punishment", nor the one Kotoko uses (in her voicelines, at least). For that matter, the next sentence doesn't actually say "judgement" either (though it does appear in the intro), so it doesn't seem like this stanza is supposed to be a call-back to Milgram in particular, at least no more so than the rest of the song. It's not the same one as in Amane's T2 VD either, that one's more like "retaliation" or "revenge".

However! You know what word is shaping up to be pretty important? It's right there in the title: purge!

So far we've seen it in three places, not counting voice dramas or app convos: one is of course The Purge March. The other two are Kotoko's second glitch line ("Purge complete. These are your just desserts") and the very first page of the manga, where Es narrates "This is a purge" over a corpse.

I assume Es says the same in the novel, but as I don't have the original text I cannot confirm. Either way, that scene wasn't originally a flash-forward, so isn't it interesting that they chose that line to be the very first thing you see when you open the volume, even putting it above the title? I suspect we'll be seeing it a lot more in the future as we unravel Milgram's mysteries. The word "lost", as well.

[beecha]

w.i.p list

FANART:

Undertale anniversary, Undertale Yellow, In Stars And Time, Murder Drones, The Amazing Digital Circus art, Monster Prom art, Cryptid Crush art, Chikn Nuggit art, Class Of 09 art, Popee the Performer art, A Hat In Time art, Vocaloid art, SynthV art (use Yi Xi and the rest's designs), Bille Bust Up art, Puzzle And Sling art, PostTraumatic Manifesto art, Scratchin' Melodii art, OMORI art, Yume Nikki/Yume 2kki art, Walten Files art, Indigo Park art, Dandy's World art, Needy Streamer Overload art, YunYun Syndrome art, Incolatus, Cult Of Lamb art, Pink B Club art, Pain Girl art, Amanda The Adventurer, Punch Punch Forever art, The Pantheon art, Mouthwashing art, The Dummys Dummy art, Splatoon art, TOH art, Bon's Bakery art, Sunny Day Jack art, Broken Colors art, Yan Sim art, Danger and Eggs art, Finding Frankie art, I Dont Want To Be A Magical Girl

RANDOM:

Kikuo Bday, Bug from GlitchX, Mesmerizer, Breedoesart, Kwite, The Krew, Duchess Celestia, Crumb/Cuptoast, Ranboo, Shoto, Menhera-Chan & Menhera-Chan, Ronja the Robber, ENA & Moony, Alcina Dimitrescu, Blanche (140), Viet Miku, Mettaton shitpost, Dust Sans smoking zaza, Christmas sweater for sonas, Marikyuun, Lavendertowne, Drawing With Derma, slime boy, evil/hyper artstyles, Popfizzles, gore/it beetle man, tikhondownichi's oc, hello kitty backrooms man, all mascots from Backrooms contest, kneeling tutorial/pose ref, Scarlet Overkill, design Y/N, Ghost And Pals fanart, Amane Momose

FOR ME:

Toyhouse PFPs, ref sheets, outfit sheets, height charts, moodboards, phone designs, backgrounds, PANTZ art, minecraft skins, wikipedia article lists, picrews, cakes/sliders, vent art, red strings Kamon x Quyen, muslim oc for O.C, animations using bases, intro animation for O.C, christmas and fall adopts, halloween adopts for next year, valentines adopts, food adopts, bla bla blah, pastel adopts, animate everyone like Pelo, kin pfps rentry, femtanyl aert

[peachypede]

How about

An Aman x Reader

Them being on a silly little casual date, having fun and being goofy

Yessss I love writing Aman being a silly flirty guy.

I’m still accepting oc x reader requests if anyone want to.

“Your prosthetic arm has got to have some sort of aiming system.”

“It’s connected only to my nervous system. Where would they put an aiming system?”

Aman laughs at your theory as he throws his next dart at the line of balloons. The carnie in charge of the game winces as Aman once again pops another balloon. One more and Aman wins.

“They gave you cyborg eyes.” You retort, slinging your arms around his regular arm. It jostles him slightly but he doesn’t seem to mind. He adjusts his stance to accommodate you and pulls his arm closer to him so you can actually get a decent cuddle.

“So you’re saying these pretty little things aren’t the real deal?” He looks down at you, a bemused smirk lighting his cheeks, giving you a small flutter of his eyelashes before going back to aiming his dart.

A flick of his hand and the last balloon pops.

The carnie sighs.

“What prize do you want?”

Aman looks down at you again, letting you pick what you wanted.

“I want that Munna plushie.” You point. The carnie takes it off the shelf and hands it you. It has a strawberry scent to your delight.

“I have a feeling I’m getting replaced, here.” Aman says as the two of you walk away from the dart throwing stall. The night was still young and there was plenty more Carnival games and rides to experience.

“It is a bit more comfortable to cuddle with~” You hug your new plushie close and rub your cheek against it, coyly smiling up at him as you do so. Aman raises an eyebrow in response.

“Well I guess I have to find my own cuddle buddy…” He ponders with a hand on his chin as he looks around at the other carnival games before his eyes brighten. “Ah. The eelektross plushie. Perfect. It’s like a body pillow and it looks like you.”

“What! How does that look like me??”

“Because you’re silly looking in a cute way.”

You smack your munna plush repeatedly against his arm, playfully angry at his teasing.

“I said in a cute way!!” He reaffirms as if that made it any better.

[oboetemasuka]

"Order of Attack" Fuuta

A companion piece to my watercolor pencil drawing of Amane. I should draw Mahiru to complete the trio. We'll see how far my motivation takes me.

I was drawing this while discussing nefarious plans with Nott. Poor Fuuta was forced to watch me grin sadistically as I plotted to hurt his friends.

[Image ID: Fuuta has his left arm in a sling and bandages on his head. He looks up sullenly and crosses his right arm under his left. /end ID]

[good-beanswrites]

That LCSYS and OoA crossover got me wondering about Fuuta.

How does he feel about being in Mahiru's place and Amane being in his place? How does he act around them?

How does he act during his interrogation?

Poor guy isn't cut out for this role, but he's doing his best! I had some format fun with this one -- I took your OoA chapter of his interrogation and put Fuuta's LCSyS thoughts in between, I think it worked out well! I discovered some new things about Fuuta's mindset in the au through the process of writing, it was really interesing :0

(Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts, including a brief mention of Haruka's situation. There's also something about Fuuta repeatedly stopping Es from getting Shidou.)

Fuuta heard Es' footsteps approaching. He took a measured breath. In and out. His exhale trembled a bit from nerves. He figured he could use that to his advantage.

Es entered the cell and took in the layout. Fuuta was propped up in a hospital bed, his neck and torso securely braced and his left arm in a sling. He was kneading a Jackalope stress toy with his right hand, digging his nails into it. More stress toys stood on the table to his right, and Es almost tripped on one a few feet ahead. As Fuuta saw Es approaching, he dropped what he was holding and swatted the rest out of his reach.

"Been a… while, Warden," Fuuta said. Es was expecting more malice in his tone, but he sounded like his life force was draining.

Fuuta hadn't liked the idea of playing the damsel in distress. He wasn't some sickly bedridden patient with a quivering voice and trembling limbs. Thankfully, Mahiru and Mikoto had talked him into taking a different angle: some of their favorite books and movies featured a battle-weary hero, weak from the fight and scorning the cowards that didn't fight alongside him. That seemed doable, he thought. He put an extra pant into his breath, hoping to evoke the thought of messy wounds from his brawl with Kotoko.

"Fuuta… you…" They pulled a chair to the side of the table and took a seat. "Are you okay?"

That's their opening? What kind of fucking question is that?

He kept Mahiru's pointers in his head, picturing a bloodied and bandaged knight, or maybe an action hero resting up after getting riddled with bullets. He forced his voice to come out more tired than he felt.

"…look like it?" Fuuta responded. If he was angry, his voice did a terrible job of showing it.

Es didn't know how to respond. Do I look like it? was obviously a rhetorical question, but they needed to show some tact.

After a moment, Fuuta spoke up again. "…look awful… don't I?"

Still unsure of what to say, Es nodded slightly.

Heh. Good. Time to twist the knife a bit. Play the confident card, make them feel guilty. They'll see how strong I am -- how strong I've always been -- and what a mistake it was to let me fall so far.

"Could've been worse. Could've died."

Es stared down, pondering their next words. Several seconds passed.

Fuuta watched them. He felt a sinking in his stomach. Their sullen silence wasn't what he'd been anticipating. He wouldn't have been satisfied with a lot of possible responses, but he'd still been expecting something. Where was their respect? Their remorse? Their pity? Anything? He reached his arm out.

A loud knock on the table got their attention.

"Oi… talking to you." Fuuta's irritated glare met Es as they lifted their head.

"I'm sorry," they said, "I'm… I'm not sure what I can say."

"Don't know what to say? I almost died because of… you don't know… Even so, it's a miracle I … If Shidou had taken any longer, would've been over for me. Don't blame him, though.

I think I've said too much -- Shidou said only a few sentences at a time...

It was impossible to keep it short, though. Es just told him that they have nothing to say in defense of his near-death. Did he really mean so little to Es that they wouldn't even dignify him with an explanation?

"…Oi, say something."

"Sor-"

"Sorry won't cut it." Fuuta sounded more pained than angry.

That was easier to accomplish now that he was actually feeling some pain. After everything, all Es had to say was a half-hearted "sorry."

So, they really don't care about me...

Es took a breath. "…Kotoko did this to you?"

Well then, I guess I'll just have to make them care.

"No sh… agh…" Fuuta gasped for air.

"Fuuta!" Es got up and walked to his side. "I'll go get Shidou-"

"Don't!" Fuuta's eyes betrayed his desperation.

Only when my pain is thrown directly in my face do they give a damn. And they were going running off to Shidou, anyway! Though maybe...

After they locked eyes for a few moments, Fuuta let out a chuckle. "Look … you … down on me, like always. Must be so happy to see…"

"I- no, I'm not. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't think Kotoko would-"

"Beat me to near-death? What'd you expect … you affirmed her…"

"I…"

"…thought she wouldn’t have … same crime here in…"

It seemed Es was finally listening, finally trying to open themself to him. And all of the sudden, Fuuta hated it. He felt paranoid under their gaze. He wasn't sure if it was fear of them seeing through his false injuries, or fear of another judgement from them. Regardless, he felt his pulse race with the way they were watching him.

"Oi, quit standing… staring…"

"I’m sorry, I didn't think-"

"Useless… apology…"

But what else could Es do besides apologize? Stand their ground and contradict Fuuta while he was in that pitiful state?

Fuuta was tired of their weak apologies. If Es had the conviction to name him guilty, they should toughen up and admit it.

With a deep breath, Fuuta forced himself to stay slumped into the bedsheets. He was getting riled up, but couldn't afford to look to strong.

"Really didn't think it'd… turn out… Me too. All I did… call some bad person out… say what's wrong was wrong…"

Es' gaze had become intense again. Those eyes, staring into his. Studying his injuries. Studying his expression.

Staring.

Staring.

Staring.

"Their reasons were b-" Fuuta gasped and clutched his chest. Es began to turn towards the door, but Fuuta grabbed their cape with his right hand.

Why can't they just offer help themself? Why do they go running off to someone else at the first sign of trouble? Am I really so disliked they can't face me?

Es swatted his hand away. "Hey, you can't just grab me like that."

"Don't dare…"

"Fine, I won't get Shidou. Yet." Es stood in place and waited for Fuuta to regain his voice.

Fuuta pretended to catch his breath, using the time to muster up something to say. If he wasn't so insistent on Es taking some responsibility for themself, he'd consider letting them call Shidou and just end this whole interrogation. He was ready to jump up and start swinging.

He itched to leap out of bed and give Es a real piece of his mind. He repeated the others' advice and pleading for him to keep his temper in check for the sake of the experiment. He thought of Amane -- how eagerly she awaited her own interrogation. All of this had been her plan, after all. As miserable as he was, he wouldn't ruin everything before she got her turn.

No, I will not steal her trial.

"You judged me… said I was unforgivable… without the whole story… How's that any different?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's so hypo- khh!" Fuuta slammed his hand on the table, trying to play it off as an emphasis, but that didn't mask his pain.

"Careful, Fuuta! You'll hurt-" Es gave up on that concern when Fuuta glared.

Pssh, like they actually care.

"Someone died because of you. You're saying I'm the same?"

"I didn't think they'd die!"

"But you knew people would dogpile them."

"I wasn't acting alone. Anyone else… out of my control… Why'd you pick me…"

"Milgram has judged-"

"Milgram doesn't make any f-"

Maybe Es should have put their foot down and called Shidou regardless of Fuuta's wishes. But something compelled them to hear him out. "Don't push yourself."

He tried to gauge if they were being sincere. He wasn't sure if he only mistook it as genuine concern since he was hoping for that so very badly.

Fuuta was clearly annoyed, but he took a breath and continued. "Still don't see it? We're just the same!"

"Me? The same as you?" Es couldn't deny Fuuta's point. They both made their judgments without thinking that someone could be seriously hurt—or dead.

That's got their mind turning, huh? I've got 'em now -- even if they don't feel like taking responsibility for my condition, I can subtly get them to take responsibilty for anothers'.

Fuuta was not known for his subtlety.

"I'll tell you. They were just in middle school. Maybe closer to Amane… than you…"

"Amane…" Es already knew this from what they gleaned from Fuuta's first video, but it didn't register how close in age their victims were. Wait, why were they thinking of Amane as a victim? "Amane… huh… I noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"You kidding? Don't change the subject... You don't talk about her like… Only one who cared before everything went to hell. You made her go through it. Decided she wasn't forgivable… painted a target… She could've died too! Then we'd be exactly…"

"Don't put me on the same level as you."

He took another moment to calm himself. His "broken" arm clenched into a fish underneath the blankets. It made sense that Es wouldn't want to talk about the other prisoners during his interrogation, but their avoidance of Amane made his blood boil.

"Are you not-"

"I'm just doing my job. Nobody told you to go online and decide who are bad people and harass them. You made a game out of judgment. This is what I'm supposed to do."

Fuuta laughed at Es for still failing to acknowledge their similarities. Then he winced in pain. Then he kept laughing and mocking Es for taking their job seriously.

It was difficult to keep up the act the whole time, but he was always quick to recover each time he slipped up. He was doing this for the others. All hope for himself was lost, but at least he could do this for the others.

Es snapped back. A pointless, cyclical conversation. Fuuta stopped Es from calling Shidou no less than three times.

If he had to sit here and suffer through this interrogation, so did Es.

Eventually, the bell brought the conversation to a halt.

Silence.

Why was Fuuta so quiet?

"Hey… Fuuta?" Es leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes seemed glassy, and he seemed to be breathing more slowly. "Fuuta… I'll go get-"

"Don't. Not worth…"

"Worth what?"

"If you're not going to… forgive… what's the point… living?"

Fuuta would just chalk it up to getting too in-character, when the others asked.

"Don't say-"

"Everything hurts so much."

This feeling of betrayal. Of loneliness. The fact that I was the first named unforgiven. The fact that I'd be the first attacked, making me the victim -- not a hero, nor a warrior. The fact that you knew all along. You knew I was none of those things. You saw right through my act, to the real me, the one who is a victim. And that's why you acted the way that you did. You're trying to do your job without hurting me any more, as if I'm something fragile to be handled carefully. And that hurts most of all.

To keep things on track, he added,

"Painkillers don't help… Strange wonder I survived. Is it really worth it?"

"Worth it…" What could Es even say about that? Anything they could think of was either more unwanted pity or…

A cold accusation that Fuuta was bargaining his life for forgiveness. Es's thoughts flitted back to Haruka's interrogation- no, that comparison was unfair. Haruka's loaded intentions were worlds away from Fuuta's resignation. How could Es dare…

"I understand… this job requires resolve…"

"Resolve? You really have resolve… just kill me. With your own two hands. Don't hide behind the rules."

Look who's talking...

"I can't do that. I can't sink to the prisoners' level. It's my job as the warden to make a fair judgement. I… I have to judge each and every one of you… no matter how much they plead, cry, or bargain… even if they are dying right in front of me."

"What is even the point? You give a damn about my life, forgive me! If not, kill me… get it over with."

The words came tumbling out. Fuuta tried not to think so hard about what he was saying. It was all in character. That was it.

For some reason, he got the sinking sensation that he'd be pulled aside later to explain himself. He wasn't sure who'd get to him first. Yuno? Shidou? Kotoko? Now that he thought about it, it would probably be Mahiru.

"Bargaining tactics won't work with me."

"Not like I care. Or… if I get out of this alive, I'll… kill… you…"

"Fine by me. If we truly are the same, then I'll have had it coming. Now, Prisoner no. 3, Fuuta, sing your sins."

Fuuta breathed a sigh of relief.

Fucking finally...

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[amane-order-of-attack]

Pigtails stumbles back into the room, with Plushie in her hands and Eyepatch leaning on her shoulder for support.

"Bad news... We lost Coat..."

They look at the new Amane in the room.

"Who are you?"

"What happened to the kitty?"

So....if hypothetical....an Amane turns into a small kitten...or a cattaur....or both.....its not my fault~

Meanwhile, back in the main group...

"What... what happened?"

Eyepatch is surrounded by cats.

The early Tiger looks furious about it.

The more injured one is trying not to fall off Cat.