Hey, you know what turned out to be super a lot of fun? Writing Mithrun from other peoples’ perspectives.
You know what else is a huge amount of fun? Badass evil ladies 👀 I fucking love Cithis she’s the worst
Will be posting this and other lil ficlets over on AO3! Link is at the bottom, I’m just… drastically failing at “short” so far 😅
(I just have a lot of feelings okay?)
Warnings: some mild dehumanization, because this is Cithis’ POV, and Cithis doesn’t think of others as people
Summary: Dramatic gestures are all well and good, but four in the morning is another matter entirely. Mithrun’s used to one particular person tending to his needs; unfortunately, Cithis values her sleep.
Maybe not quite as much as a chance to finally mess with her captain though. Budding Kabumisu
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After Dinner Mints - Afterthoughts
“Cithis.”
Brows furrowing in irritation, Cithis rolled over, tugging the absolutely tragic excuse for a blanket that the Canaries allowed around her tighter and burrowed in.
“Cithis.”
Her name, again, and she considered folding the pillow over her ears, still hazy with sleep.
“Cithis.”
She was going to kill Fleki. Maybe make Lycion do it. Or Otta, or anyone really, honestly, she just wanted to sleep…
“Cithis.”
But the captain would just stand there all night, saying her name in that damn monotone. Probably had been for a while, before it woke her up. Honestly, she counted herself lucky when he respected her request not to just shake her.
It was inconsiderate, honestly. He’d have to have passed all three of the others to reach her, and casting spells always woke her up. It ruined her chances of getting back to sleep, where as Fleki could pop off any number of minor spells and, as Cithis was painfully aware, be snoring again in moments.
“Cithis.”
Yes, this was Fleki’s fault. And Cithis’s rest would be avenged.
Stifling a sigh, she reached for her bells and rolled over, not surprised to see the captain’s shadowy figure looming over her cot. The soft smile came to her lips without effort; that part had always been easy.
“Do you need another sleeping spell, Captain? Lie down now,” she only half asked, the chant already spilling out before her.
Honestly, she didn’t care if he dropped where he stood. So long as he didn’t fall on her.
“No.”
The magic died before it could form, and Cithis bit back a sharp hiss of irritation.
She hated that limitation, the shackle around her power that put her at the beck and call of these pathetic little wardens. The ones not loved enough by their wealthy and powerful families to keep them from a life of pain and drudgery.
And they still dared think they were better than her. When they hadn’t even earned their place.
Resigning herself to whatever the hell the captain wanted now, she forced herself to sit up, and give him her best “obedient servant” smile. Well, the best she could manage at this ungodly hour.
It wasn’t like the captain cared.
“What, then, Captain?” She asked, taking the time to actually look at him.
He looked… her brows dipped down again, frown crumpling the smile almost at once.
He looked… bad. Captain Mithrun usually did, especially on the days where she or Lycion couldn’t be bothered to make him presentable. But even dishevelled, exhausted, covered in blood, she’d never seen him look like this. It set her on edge.
And it gradually dawned on her that even though by his standards Mithrun was practically well dressed in a sleeping tunic and absolutely no filth… he looked worried.
She’d never seen him worry before.
The petulant pouting, that was nothing new, and frankly quite adorable. Annoyed, bored, satisfied, apathetic, she’d seen a lot on what most insisted was a blank face because they couldn’t be bothered to actually look.
But never this, uncertainty, worry, perhaps even fear writ large on his features and in the twisting of the tunic between his hands.
That couldn’t possibly bode well for her.
Setting her legs off the side of the cot to make a space, she pointed to it firmly, letting a little more command slip into her tone. A soft voice often worked for Mithrun, but when he was recalcitrant sometimes he needed authority.
“Sit.”
He folded immediately, dropping gracelessly to sit beside her on the creaky little cot. He didn’t seem to be injured at least, although he rarely bothered acknowledging it if he was. Better to be sure.
“Do you need a healing spell?” She asked, not bothering to prepare the magic this time. If he did, he could wait. If he didn’t, the less she had to deal with the damn leash the better.
The Captain shook his head, hesitated, and then… sunk in on himself.
Also not good.
Reaching out, Cithis gripped his chin firmly and turned his head to face her.
He looked lost, and while he was usually unfocused if they weren’t on a mission, it was never with this much vulnerability. And while she’d once thought she’d like to see that from him, see him actually begin to care about something, it was unsettling.
Not least because she couldn’t imagine what had caused it.
Humming a short note, she released him and nodded.
“Tell me what you need, Captain,” she urged him gently.
Captain Mithrun opened his mouth. Closed it again. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she’d need to enchant him just to get a fucking answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and spoke.
“I don’t feel anything.”
Taking a breath, Cithis consciously smoothed her frown away this time. Impatience had never moved the captain before, except to raise his own. And she just plain didn’t have the patience to deal with that right now.
“And that’s a problem?” It had never been before, so she was expecting maybe a sharp look, and then some more information.
She wasn’t expecting him to turn to her, his eye wide and empty.
“Yes. I…” he hesitated, looking out past her and to the rest of the tent. Cithis waited about as patiently as she felt capable of for him to find the thought.
Or give up and let her knock him out again.
“I don’t… you said there would be new desires. But there haven’t been in forty years. It takes… so much to keep moving. To eat, to sleep, and I don’t feel anything. I don’t even want to. I don’t even want to lie down and die. There’s just nothing.” He sounded almost calm, with the same lack of inflection, except… he actually sounded tired.
Another new not-improvement.
Cithis was surprised to find she was actually almost sad. In as much as she felt anything for anyone, she rather liked the captain.
He was certainly the best warden she’d ever had, even if she couldn’t just twist him to her needs and leave. Most of the spoiled rich brats the Canaries were saddled with made her sick; born into money and privilege, half of them having the first cold meal of their lives with the force.
Mithrun was… well, at the very least always entertaining, even if it wasn’t the kind of entertainment she preferred. You couldn’t humiliate someone who didn’t feel shame, and she’d only ever had one whim he hadn’t indulged, even though he’d apparently been able to resist any of them at any time.
He was… a broken, damaged thing. Usually Cithis very much enjoyed the act of breaking things herself, but she did know how to take care of what belonged to her.
Captain Mithrun had been given to her, body and soul, and while he wasn’t fit to be a proper plaything he was still very useful. Seeing him fall apart had hurt her more than she’d admit even to herself.
Or maybe it was just knowing that she hadn’t been the one to cause it, or been able to do a damn thing about it. She hated other people taking her things.
She hadn’t been able to pull him out of it, either; hadn’t been able to think of a way to try. Not before that little… ah.
Cithis had always had a gift for spotting a person’s weakness.
Reaching out, she covered the hands still twisting through his sleeping tunic to still them. The question was, if he even knew it.
“I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t see where this is different,” she said carefully, keeping her voice light. By all accounts, the captain couldn’t read other people for shit to spot a lie on his own, but why take the risk? “What has changed to make this a problem?”
And if she was just a little relieved to see a far more familiar look of annoyance flash across his face, he didn’t need to know that either.
“There is nothing I want now. The demon is gone, and I’m not,” he said sharply, and she didn’t bother curbing her smile.
“That was true two days ago, Captain. Yet you got up. What has changed?” She repeated a little more firmly, searching his face intently for any kind of recognition.
Sullenness pulled across his features and he slumped back, folding his arms across his chest.
“Nothing. That is the problem.”
Hiding from her? He’d never hidden before.
Maybe there was something good at the root of this after all, if the captain was going to become more… interesting. She’d not had a new plaything of her own since she’d been given him, or more accurately since she’d realized just how little he actually cared for himself.
And if this surge of passion turned out to be the temporary reprieve and he sank back into motionless, well, she’d just have to enjoy him while she could.
Of course, just giving him the answers wouldn’t be nearly as fun.
Her tiredness wasn’t even feigned as she sighed, slotting her legs back onto the cot behind him and lying down again.
“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m afraid I’m just not sure what you want. Perhaps I’m just too tired… shall we talk more in the morning? When you’ve had more time to gather your thoughts?” She asked sweetly, and yes, there was that irritation again.
That little flash of petulance that only the proximity of a dungeon had dragged out of him before. Honestly, him even taking the initiative to come find her at all was beginning to look like part of a lovely new pattern.
Maybe there was a new desire already forming… at least the desire to have a desire, which she supposed would be a new feeling to almost anyone. Yes, this next part was going to be very entertaining.
A fun little thought occurred to her, and she held the blanket open for him.
“Why don’t you sleep here, Captain? I can cast you another sleeping spell, and then if things are clearer in the morning you can tell me immediately,” she offered with her most innocent, sunny smile.
And if she cast a strong enough spell, he would certainly be asleep past the time his little tallman would come looking for him. And she’d have a lovely front row seat for the show.
The look Captain Mithrun gave her was… honestly, as sceptical as it always was when she put in the effort to be charming with him. He wasn’t a stupid little thing, just incredibly unbothered.
“I don’t always need sleeping spells,” he grumbled to himself, and oh Cithis knew this was going to be fun. He’d never cared about the method of his sleep before.
Still, he obediently lay down beside her, tucked in on his side until they were touching from shoulder to ankles to both fit on the narrow cot. Cithis considered curling a leg around his waist, both for her own comfort and to see what his… Kabru would do.
That could wait for morning.
She did wrap the arm holding her staff around him though, partially for easier spell casting and partially so neither of them fell off the cot. A rare moment of mercy moved her, and she let her lips press gently against the back of his head for a moment, her voice low.
“After all, Captain… tallmen hardly live for any time at all. Even if you never have another desire for as long as he lives, that isn’t so long to wait.”
The captain stiffened in her arms, but didn’t stop her from murmuring the incantantion this time, and with a gentle jingle of her bells he slumped back into sleep.
Making a mental note to find out just how old Kabru was (and how long tallmen actually did live anyway), Cithis settled down and relaxed as much as she could, waiting to join him.
Casting spells always did wake her up, but at least now she had something interesting to occupy her while she settled.
Perhaps Fleki had had a point, and it might be worth being released on the captain’s recognizance, even if he was planning to stay in this backwater country. After all, she was his caretaker. And she’d need a front row seat to whatever disaster Captain Mithrun’s attempts at flirtation were going to be.
She’d have to make sure that Fleki was also released to stay with them, of course. That would be the start of a fitting punishment for her lost sleep.
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Watch this space or follow me home via
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Not gonna get into danganronpa another spoilers because this whole scene is something else that I’m still processing but I absolutely love this line. Like to bring up milgram I think this is an idea which can reflect on lots of the characters as well. The idea of basing your entire existence off of a certain thing/person/ideology and then for something to happen that completely destroys that. Your entire person has been stripped away and just what’s left? You can’t comprehend your own existence or meaning without that specific attachment and you start to question all of your actions based off that…
I can only really think of John, Kotoko, and Es here (and possibly Amane and Mikoto to an extent). And John bases his life off of Mikoto, Kotoko upholding justice, and Es being the warden.
John’s idea of his whole existence and reason for being is Mikoto. It’s the only reason he believes he exists and if he were to fulfill his role he’d “disappear” as he would be completely worthless without him. John tries to repress and ignore his humanity and reduce himself as a tool to protect Mikoto and that’s all he can see himself as. But now Mikoto’s starting to not deny his existence and feels pure hatred for everything about him. And what will happen to John, when the person he’s dedicated his entire life to and desperately wants praise from, denies his existence? What will he be but some worthless existence that is only a burden, to him.
Kotoko. An ideology of upholding justice and punishing evil that has completely overtaken her. She has pushed herself into a role of a “fang” for justice, protecting the weak and persecuting evil. But even so matter how much she tries, she knows her goals are unreachable. She denies relationships and attachments to other people based on this ideology. Kotoko admits that she does feel attachment to the prisoners, but has to deny them in order to fulfill the role as a tool. And believes that pain and violence is necessary to achieving a greater good. Trying to deny any regret because wouldn’t it be easier to believe you’re entirely in the right? She latched onto Es, believing them to be similar as the warden who carries out judgement on wether the prisoners are forgivable or not. But now, Es has denied her whole ideology, her whole existence due to the pain she’s caused. Kotoko wants to believe that what she did was right and that Es, another enforcer of justice would accept her, because that’s how it is.
And Es… they’re the warden of the prison. There’s nothing more to them than that they believe. Es has no memories of their identity or past before Milgram and immediately latched onto the identity given to them, of being the guard. Es took this role as their entire identity, an extension of the milgram system in order to interrogate and judge prisoners. I think Muu put this best.
“Warden-san, we call you "warden" because that's what you are, right? And I was assigned the role of prisoner, but that doesn't mean I'm now nothing but a prisoner at heart, too. After all, I'm still me.”
Es has an unstable sense of identity, to the point they latched on to the first thing they were given in order to give themselves a purpose and a meaning for existence. And Kotoko calling them “imperfect caused them to question their identity. But as the story progresses Es will probably begin to learn about the audiences control and the truth behind what they assumed to be their verdicts. That their will never was 100% their own. Who knows what Es’ past was, but eventually they’ll likely have to tackle it and their whole identity, the warden, the arms of milgram, is gone.
gonna think about Mikoto and Amane here as well. Mikoto, although may not seem to be as first, focuses his entire identity around other people. He’s the friendly sociable guy who’s easy to chat with. But that’s all he believes he should be, I guess. As perhaps this mindset is upheld by an inherent fear of other people rejecting him, so he focuses all his attention and identity on being a social person. He’s never truly friends with people, as perhaps that would be “too close” and open up the possibility for danger. He doesn’t completely deny his identity like the others, but he molds and shapes it in a way that is acceptable to others. He likes what everyone else likes and does what everyone else does so the fear of being rejected for being different won’t hurt him. But now he’s stopped denying John’s existence and his DID, believing himself to be crazy, and to be completely rejected from other people, his entire sense of identity to an extent. And especially with John scaring other people off with the mindset that will help Mikoto, he has now been completely distanced from everyone else and now has to come to terms with himself, but not the ideal persona he put on to be acceptable to other people.
Amane is a more different case as she in a way has rejected that idea, but not completely. Growing up in a cult it’s very likely that she was always conditioned that she was just a servant for god. That all the good things she did were actually god blessing her and all the bad things a fault of her humanity, herself as a person. She is in a unstable relationship with the whole submitting her personhood to her religion, as she sacrificed her ideologies in order to help a cat. But at the core, that wasn’t about herself and her identity, rather a focus on the cat’s life. Amane’s murder was her will. Rejecting everything and fighting for her life in direct opposition to what she has been taught her entire life and how her identity should be, a rejection of that and a glance into “herself”. But once again, this murder wasn’t entirely self motivated. She’s still broken enough that she can’t fully grasp herself as a person besides god and religion. And a large cause of her murder was out of the death of the cat, rather than simply protecting herself. Amane still slips back into the belief that her personhood is entirely dedicated to god. As she tried to convince herself and Es that the only reason she killed is because they deserved religious punishment and she is in the right for carrying out god’s will, once again denying her personal reason for doing so. Reducing herself to “we” on behalf of her religion, that this isn’t herself anymore. Amane is in a limbo between rejecting her personhood for god, but at the same time rejecting the suffering she’s been through in order to save “herself”. Amane’s case is so interesting, as there’s no clear answer of what she believes in here, and it is truly fascinating.
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