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dunmeshistash · 5 months ago

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Why did Milsiril help with Mithrun's recovery?

Since people seemed to be interested in the post I made about why she adopted Kabru I wanted to write my thoughts about her helping Mithrun too.

I think with Mithrun it gets a little trickier tho, both because Mithrun himself doesn't speak much about his past and because most of it we get from a third party account. I'll also try to discuss based on what I see people say about their relationship although is probably gonna be shorter than Kabru's (came back to say it's not shorter), tw for self-harm because of Mithrun recovery drawings.

1 - So Mithrun could become a canary again

This is the theory I see the most often, probably it's whats on the main story, as far as I'm remembering there's no other mentions of Milsiril related to Mithrun besides the role she plays in sparing his life.

That story isn't reliable tho, Mithrun constantly points out that Kabru is glossing over details and Kabru himself is depicted as cooking (as the kids say) a good story that resonates with an audience.

So we can't really trust that this framing is objectively true

But even so taking just what happened, without the context Kabru added, what she did was spare his life once she realized he still had a hint of desire to exist within him.

Kabru lies (or rather embelishes a lot) when he says "and from that point onward, Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even he had no desire to eat. He lived on even though he had no desire to live." he was useless for 20 years after this so 'saving him cause he will be useful later' isn't really too accurate. Milsiril also wasn't involved with his rehab until Utaya 18~19 years later so it definitely wasn't for this that she helped.

2 - So Mithrun could avenge Utaya by defeating the demon (She winded him up and set him on a path, you know, like a doll)

I think this one is kinda mean, I've seen people speak as if she only helped him after Utaya because she wanted to use him to defeat the demon. But there's no evidence Milsiril even cares about the demon or that she wants vengeance. My girl literally ran away and decided to look away instead of continuing to fight (and I can't blame her)

This, as far as I understand, is based both on the above section and on this part from her adventurer's bible extra

She shows up to visit him and brings up the demon, and then sets him up to go after it, but once again I think it relies on an unkind interpretation of her character; you gotta assume she has unseen ulterior motives already before the comic even starts, since this whole comic is talking about how she completely misinterpreted who Mithrun was when they were in the same squad, and how she feels he's actually someone she would get along with. If you know Milsiril, you know she only gets along with other misfits, she's acknowledging Mithrun as someone who was broken like her even before his desires were eaten.

This is the complete comic

"I always hated you. You were beautiful and perfect, and everybody loved you. You didn't seem to have a single worry or flaw.

But when I saw the dungeon you'd built, I was startled. It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority, jealousy, lies and anger.

I wish I'd tried really talking to you. We might have hit off pretty well. Too late now, I guess"

She acknowledges him as a human being, when before she only saw him as the embodiment of the people that bullied her. And right after that she talks about the demon. There's no indication for a wish of vengeance anywhere in this comic, I'd even say the demon and the dungeons are barely important to what Milsiril is thinking, there's only belated compassion.

3 - Cause he was a new "project"

Related to the reasons pointed out in my Kabru post, people assume Milsiril is the type of person that wants/needs to feel superior to someone, or to put on an altruistic front or what have you. And that interpretation also leaks into how they see her helping Mithrun. I said the main reasons why I don't think she's that type of person on the other post so I wont repeat. But I don't think Mithrun is a "project" at all.

This was right after she fought on Utaya, I imagine a little after or a little before she took in Kabru, so she "had a project" already if you're gonna go with that wording. She was also finally free from the canaries and she had no obligation towards Mithrun. She also only went back to him decades after she spared his life, my assumption is that she did it because she finally could. She couldn't have guessed when she spared his life that 19 years later she would be free from the canaries and that Mithrun still wouldn't have been recovered and would have been needing her.

4 - And finally, why did she spare his life? Why did she help him recover?

This one isn't as straight foward as Kabru's adoption to me. I imagine the fact he had the potential to still be useful could be one of the reasons she spared Mithrun at first, but I also think that he newfound empathy she developed for him when she saw his dungeon might have been part of it, that seeing he still had some sort of drive and desire made her have hope he could still live.

Milsiril really seems like the type of person that likes to nurture, while I wouldn't say this makes her a "softie" and not able to execute him (I'm sure she could do a mercy kill) I think that soft side made her want to give him a chance. There's no proof for any of that ofc, and Kui confirmed in a QnA Mithrun wasn't arrested or executed because they were desperate for people to be in the canaries. (The choice probably wasn't only on her)

Now why she helped him? I think it's because she saw he could be helped.

She says herself she's only visiting, probably to check on him

"They said you've fully recovered but you might as well be a corpse." so by this point I think his body has recovered and he has managed to stabilize? But as this extra from the daydream hour shows he needed 24/7 care to stay alive in those first 18 years

Like she said he might as well be a corpse, he'd be in bed all day and have servants keeping him from dying, he would have fits where he would harm himself, he had no way to go on. It even says that even things that could remind him of his time as dungeon lord weren't allowed so he was probably being kept away from demon mentions (after all I doubt servants even knew about a demon)

But then when she mentions the demon he immediately gets up

She's surprised so I don't think she expected that, and she goes and uses that reaction to help him "Then first eat this. If you finish it all I'll take you to a dungeon again"

Rather than using him to fight the demon I think she's using the demon to help him live. Here's what his bio says

"After Mithrun was recused from the dungeon, he spent a while on the verge of death. However, with time and rehabilitation he gradually became able to lead a normal life again. The Utaya incident was the event that roused him. He thought, 'If I'd been there, I know I could have dealt with the demon somehow' and he resolved to return to active duty. (...)"

So it worked, Milsiril might have been there to help with his rehab but it was the Utaya situation that finally was able to motivate him to find a way to live and rejoin the canaries, so I think rather than setting him up to kill she realized it could be used to help him.

Which isn't a perfect solution, as you might know by the ending, his fate was to die either way: either he would die trying to kill the demon or he would defeat it and die because he had nothing else to live for.

But it was what Milsiril could do for him at that moment and it was how she managed to help him go forwards.

And that's my thoughts about Milsiril and Mithrun, I don't think they as big in each other's lives in canon as some people assume, there's barely a mention of Milsiril on his profile and she's barely named in his backstory. But they were both people that left a mark on each other's existence if only for a short time.

But I don't think Milsiril was just doing charity when helping Mithrun either, I imagine she did it because she saw herself in past Mithrun, and wanted to help him because of it.

Also side note, this extra:

That's past Mithrun saying she has ulterior motives, he isn't reliable and thinks badly of everyone. So ofc he thinks gloomy Milsiril is suspicious for helping, him doesn't mean it's true

Disclaimer again I'm a Milsiril stan so I'm very charitable in my interpretations of her, but hopefully you can see there's no indication she is someone who would use a sick person for revenge with the sources I've attached.

#Milsiril #long post #dungeon meshi #Mithrun #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi thoughts #I wrote a lot omg #self injury tw

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priapocalypse · 8 months ago

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I was watching a documentary about M.A.S.H. the other day, and Jamie Farr (Klinger) talked about why, in the later seasons, the character went back to wearing fatigues instead of women's clothing. I'd always assumed it was because of some network decision to "appeal 5o new audiences" or some bullshit. The reason is much more legit, though. Farr and the writers were sick of Klinger just being a gag. He was always the comic stereotype - the soldier who is trying to convince his superiors that he is crazy and deserves to be sent home on a Section 8 (soldiers deemed mentally unfit to serve), and he wore women's clothes because I guess it meant he was crazy. That was Klinger's gimmick, and the fact that he eventually loved clothes made for women made it better.

But it was a gag. Farr and the others felt that Klinger deserved a more complex and serious story. When the character Radar left, Klinger was a perfect fit for his position. While he still maintains a love for women's clothes, the change also reminds the audience that underneath the gag, there's a frightened soldier trying to trick the army into thinking that he's insane, when in truth, the army and entire war are crazier than he'll ever be. It's a nod to Yossarian in Catch 22. But there's so much more to the character than a joke - just like all the members of 4077.

EDIT: in the comments, @klapollfranmayinator pointed out that Jamie Farr also requested the change because he was afraid that his kids would be bullied. Sorry I didn't include this in the original post, because it's important to know in it's own, and deserves a separate discussion on how fucked up that is and also expected, given that it was the early 80s.

Also, here's the documentary where I first heard this:

M.A.S.H.: The Comedy that Changed Television

#mash #m.a.s.h #Klinger #jamie farr

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radioactiverats · 18 hours ago

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Thoughts: Electric shock (Starscream x reader)

The first time it happens, you both react in comically similar fashions - with an ungainly yelp, cradling hand and servo respectively as you jump away from each other.

"What the frag was that?" Starscream hisses. "How is it that humans can generate charge?"

"Charge?" you mutter. You suppose the interpretation makes sense. "That was an electric shock. It happens a lot in winter." You almost laugh at the fact that you completely forgot about the inevitability of this. The bots are giant metal beings, after all.

Starscream scrutinizes you through suspicious, narrowed optics, maintaining a wary distance. He has to admit that it stirred the long-dormant scientific curiosity inside him, though. Cybertronians are no stranger to generating charge, but a charge of this scale only occurs during interface - and their partner, assuming they were cybertronian as well (Hmm. Interesting factor. Starscream files that away for later, if only out of morbid curiosity (lie)), would ordinarily have nullified the charge, in a sense. Either through rerouting, absorbing it into their EM field - grounders were particularly good at this, and had been highly sought after partners for a while. Starscream yanks his spiralling thoughts back with a snarl. Cybertronians had relative control over their EM field, able to project it to comfort, merge with others, achieve understanding with one another without the need for verbal communication. Starscream had considered this a mark of sophistication amongst his species - even if thoughts like these had belonged to a time before the war.

So humans had a primitive EM field, he'd known this for a while. If he reached out to touch your field, so weak it radiated only centimeters from your form (it's not like you knew he was doing that, it's not like you would realize he cared, god forbid anyone knew he cared.), he could feel the maelstrom of your puny human feelings and was all at once shaken by it. How could something so small, which existed for barely a blip of his existence, feel so much?

After some observation, he'd quickly established (with some disappointment) that you had no control over your EM field.

Pathetic, Starscream thought. Another reason that cybertronians are superior beings.

However, his little 'experiments' didn't stop. Unexpected and spontaneous generation of charge was simply not something that his kind did, even if he was loathe to admit his interest (purely scientific, of course).

Which begins a rather undignified exercise of him trying to poke you with a servo when you least expected it, to see if charge would generate - "Ow, FUCK - Starscream!"

You quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you had to fight fire with fire. Quietly approaching from your perch on his desk as he squinted and swore over a stack of datapads, you reach a hand out and slap it onto his arm.

Both of you screech at the same time as an audible SNAP crackles between you. Still, you can't stop your laughter as Starscream bolts upright to hurl every cybertronian profanity in the book at you.

#transformers #maccadam #tf starscream #starscream x reader #transformers x reader

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cjrae · 6 months ago

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Carelessness. Or; Lakan's crime in Maomao's eyes is worse than malice.

There is a temptation to take Lakan's character lightly. After his initial, sinister introduction had played out and we are given the story of how Lakan met Maomao's mother, much of Lakan's devotion to his wife and daughter is played for comic relief, allowing him to be the butt of the joke, along with Maomao's exaggerated reactions of disgust and insistence that she has no relation to this man.

It is worth remembering, though, that Lakan is referred to as the fox for good reason - the fox is a trickster figure and Lakan's whole character lies in how he can turn on a dime between being funny in a very pathetic way to those same qualities becoming extremely dangerous when his fun is threatened.

Lakan's heroic qualities do exist, but they are overshadowed by his carelessness and selfishness; it is these qualities that have, so far, doomed the relationship he craves so badly with his daughter.

Spoilers under the cut all the way up to Vol 11's English translation.

Fengxian

We see it in his relationship with Fengxian. While Lakan does not deserve all of the blame for Fengxian's fate, it is his carelessness that puts her in the position of becoming a common prostitute to support Verdigris House after her actions nearly ruined it. Let's pay attention to the sequence of events.

"…Lakan now found himself persona non grata for having been too close to him [Luomen]; he was told to go on a long trip and not come back for awhile. He could have ignored this, but it would have only been a headache later. His father was in the military too, making him not just a parent but a superior officer. At last, he wrote to the brothel saying he would return in half a year's time. This was after he had received a letter saying the contract buy-out had fallen through."

So, first and foremost, we know the following:

1.) Lakan did not strictly have to leave. It was the politic thing to do, but if he had pushed the issue, he could have stayed. If the goal had been to simply have Lakan out of the public eye, while his father may not have been pleased with it, his marriage to Fengxian could have also served a similar purpose as he began to focus on domestic affairs and kept a low profile. But his convenience weighed more heavily than his feelings for Fengxian.

2.) Fengxian tells him that the buy-out has fallen through BEFORE HE LEAVES. Assuming she's just barely pregnant at that point (call it eight weeks, ish) and his letter indicates that he's going to return for her before the baby is born, this is still a terrible sign for her. As he himself puts it later;

"Did he not grasp what happened to such women?

A little thought might have revealed the answer, but his head was full of Go and Shogi and nothing else, and he had been unable to arrive at the truth…It was all his fault for being so impulsive."

But Lakan didn't think and sure enough, three years later, Fengxian isn't waiting for him in her polite little box at the Verdigris House. Because love is not convenient and Lakan values convenience above almost everything else. It's not until he loses Fengxian and their baby (and has the loss driven home to him in a very visceral manner when he finds the fingers in his un-forwarded mail) that it occurs to him that he wants more than endless game playing.

Luomen

We know somebody did check Lakan's mail, though, as the letter with Maomao and Fengxian's fingers is the only piece that's opened. It's easy to guess that it attracted Luomen's attention because it was bloodstained, but Luomen does what Lakan should have - he immediately makes for the pleasure district to find this woman and her child.

It takes him years of patient work on behalf of the Verdigris House to be trusted to adopt Maomao. We know it takes years because Maomao is initially raised by the Three Princesses and the madam, while Luomen is slowly building trust with the courtesans by providing them medical services. At no point does Luomen stride in, demanding to be given custody of his great niece because he's her family. Instead he recognizes that she has a family already in the brothel and works on becoming a part of their lives - because that's what's best for Maomao.

Luomen understands that filial duty goes both ways - a child has responsibilities to the parent, certainly, but those duties imply a reciprocity of care. First, the parent cares for their child, which means that the child's needs must be the priority. What Maomao desperately needs is care, education, safety and stability. All of which, Luomen prioritizes making sure Maomao has to the best of his ability.

Contrast this with Lakan's immediate reaction to finding Maomao in the pleasure district.

"One day, out of the blue, a strange man had appeared and tried to lead her away. The madam had shown up shortly after and beaten him with a broom and the sight of the bruised and bloodied man had inspired fear in her young heart. Anyone would be scared by a man who reached out to them grinning, even as blood poured from his face."

Lakan literally tries to take her off the street, believing he has the right, because he's her father. He doesn't care that he's scaring Maomao, he's described as grinning and reaching for her despite the reactions of everyone around him. Which is why Luomen's reaction to Lakan reception in the pleasure district is very telling - this is a man who is described as far too kind for his own good and having been very close with Lakan.

"Nonetheless, while her old man was compassionate, he did grasp the broader situation, and he never tried to stop the old madam from chasing the other man out of the brothel with her broom. He knew that wrong was wrong."

The manga adds the context that Luomen also "knew the woman with the missing nose." Luomen feels for Lakan, but his duty is to Maomao as her adopted father and to Fengxian as her doctor. His feelings do not outweigh those responsibilities.

Maomao

Lakan adores Maomao from the moment he lays eyes on her. But his love is inherently selfish - the loss of Fengxian and his estrangement from Maomao do not inspire him to do better with his talents consistently.

The ironic part is that Lakan could have made a very compelling argument to be given custody of Maomao. We know that the whole reason he decided to use his strategic brilliance to take back the headship of the La Clan is inspired by Maomao and the life he feels she deserves to have. He also goes back to Verdigris House and although it takes him ten years, he pays off two and a half times the damages he caused - in the world of the red light district, he has paid for his initial crime. So we see that he is capable of putting forth effort when he feels inspired to do so.

If he had applied that same strategy and patience toward working on finding a place in Maomao's life that honored the relationships that supported her when Lakan had abandoned both her and Fengxian, he might have been able to convince those that cared about her that it was in Maomao's best interests to be raised by him as a princess of a named clan.

If we need further evidence that Lakan's carelessness is still a dominant character trait, we can look at a more recent example in the story; the Shi Clan's assassination plot against Jinshi.

Gossip is one of Lakan's hobbies and that, combined with his intuition, means that he's the first person to realize that something is going on. He sees all of these supposedly coincidental acts happening around them and intuits that there is a grander purpose at work. And, to his credit, he doesn't ignore it - he puts his talent of using the people around him to good use. We see him rope Gaoshun into looking into the poisoned seaweed under the guise of a colleague asking for a favor, we see him prod Jinshi into letting Maomao investigate the metalworker. Lihaku is one of his direct subordinates and he's tasked with investigating the explosion at the warehouse and following the trail as they realize that the arson was a diversion.

But at no point is he doing any of this because of anything so prosaic as duty or responsibility. This is a fun game to him that's serving a dual purpose of getting him closer to Maomao. Everything is entirely about what will amuse him or further that one, singular goal. And he's greatly amused - until Maomao puts the pieces together and realizes that this is an assassination attempt.

It never occurs to Lakan that simply maneuvering people around him to get things done and amuse him carries any danger - because he doesn't care that deeply about anyone else aside from a few select individuals. Everything in his mind was entirely about getting him and Maomao into the same place where she couldn't run away from him. Where she would be forced to accept his help.

Which is exactly what happens; Maomao can't get into the temple on her own and she needs Lakan to vouch for her. It is an extremely clumsy, transactional way of trying to build a connection.

So then what happens?

First Maomao is bludgeoned by the guard - a Go stone of a man, unimportant, except for the damage he inflicted on his little girl that Lakan did not anticipate. But worse is when Jinshi carries her out of that temple, bleeding and unconscious, after having saved his life. Everything Lakan has done to try to force his daughter to acknowledge him has instead lead to her being seriously injured.

Maomao points out, later, that if Lakan had simply stepped forward and used his official position as a Grand Commandant to spearhead an investigation, this plot might have been discovered much sooner. Maomao, having a few self-absorbed tendencies of her own, is focused on Suirei's promise of resurrection medicine. But Lakan should be more focused on the fact that, had he actually done something himself, perhaps Maomao wouldn't have been hurt.

Lakan

I said before that Lakan's heroic qualities do exist and it's important to acknowledge them, while also realizing how they are caught up in his self-serving behavior. For all that buying Fengxian out is about Lakan finally getting something he's wanted, there is also virtue in the fact that he does not see the damage the disease has done to Fengxian and think of her as damaged goods. To him Fengxian has just as much value as the day he lost her, simply because she exists. Forget an attitude that's rare in the red-light district, that attitude is rare in the entire setting, which is acknowledged as extremely patriarchal.

Lakan also gets a chance to redeem himself somewhat during the Shi Rebellion. By the time Maomao is kidnapped, it's not because Lakan has been lazy - we see that he's been actively involved in the investigation about the feifa, with a chilling understanding about what improved firearms technology could do for military tactics. He is actually using his position and subordinates appropriately, setting Lahan to investigate the financial trail, which provides Jinshi the concrete proof needed to officially put the rebellion down. This time, the danger to Maomao is not Lakan's fault, and when he realizes she's been kidnapped, he does whatever he must to get Maomao back.

"Silently, Lakan turned toward Jinshi. Then he got up, knelt before Jinshi and pressed his fist into his palm in a gesture of respect. 'I come in supplication. I humbly request that you mobilize the army to strike against the rebel, Shishou.'

Lakan was a grand commandant, in other words, a secretary of military affairs. Jinshi understood what it meant for such a person to ask for the army to be mobilized."

Jinshi observes that his motives have nothing to do with the good of the nation and he is entirely concerned with his own, selfish needs, but while Lakan's motives may be selfish on behalf of the nation, he IS actually acting the way a father should. Maomao is in danger and his priority is doing whatever he must get her to safety, whether that be using the full authority of his rank or putting aside his pride to get Jinshi to mobilize the army.

Neither Malice Nor Virtue

Book 11 gives us an interesting look at Lakan, first in the war conference where Gyoku-ou is gauging Jinshi and Lakan's support for invading another country and we see that Lakan does not care.

"'What do you think, Sir Lakan?'

Lakan once again stopped working his Go problems and studied the map intently. He wore the same look with which he would appraise a board game…

'I don't know about your reasons or excuses. All I know is how to win at Shogi,' Lakan said and then he started arranging the pieces on the map. The aide gave Jinshi an apologetic look.

There was no malice in Lakan - but neither was their virtue. So long as something didn't harm him or his family, he paid it no mind. If there was a chance to participate in an interesting game however - that he wouldn't miss…to the strategist war was just a combination of his favorite games; it was a Shogi match using human pieces and a game of Go in which you captured real territory."

Jinshi's evaluation of Lakan is rather damming. The man has neither malice nor virtue. He cares only about himself, his family and his simple pleasures. This is the core of the issue that has doomed his relationship with Maomao, who despite having inherited a great deal of Lakan's characteristics, values two things above all else in her relationships; work ethic and compassion toward others.

Lakan desperately wants that paternal role with Maomao, but his behavior means that the roles are often reversed - when they are forced to interact, Maomao is often stuck taking care of him, thinking about what will be best for Lakan so that she can maintain her own peace as much as possible. He cannot possibly be her parent if he insists on being a perpetual child to those around him.

And indeed, Jinshi treats him like a child, cutting Lakan's support out from under Gyoku-ou by laying out for him that his daughter and his uncle would both be hurt by this war, giving Lakan a reason to care.

Rikuson

While Book 11 is rather damning in it's evaluation of Lakan as a truly neutral figure, there are hints that Lakan is capable of at least expanding his circle. Rikuson provides first a different perspective of Lakan than we're used to, giving us his first impressions as a child;

"Among the nomadic tribes, it was said that some herdsmen could distinguish each and every one of their sheep - but Rikuson could never do that. Maybe Lakan saw people's faces the same way Rikuson saw sheep.

'Well, what do you do when you really need to remember who someone is?'

Lakan was silent for a moment…"I remember them by the shape of their ears, or their height. I look at the quality of their hair. Memorize the stink of their sweat. Or I listen for the pitch of their voice…'

'Wouldn't it be easier to just remember their face?'

'I don't get faces. I can see people have eyes and a nose and a mouth, but when I try to put them together they get all tangled up and all I can see is a Go stone. Now the size of a person's nostrils, the length of their eyelashes - those, I can understand.'

So he didn't remember an entire face, just specific details about it. That sounded exhausting. No wonder he only did it for the most important people."

Rikuson is right - that DOES sound exhausting. With this perspective in mind, it makes more sense to the reader why Lakan constantly appears lazy and apathetic; because he's always riding the edge of exhaustion just to function. And because Rikuson hasn't had to live with the consequences of Lakan's carelessness, he is better able to empathize with how Lakan interacts with the world around him.

Later, after Rikuson has killed Gyoku-ou, Lakan walks into the situation and instead of exposing his former aide, he protects Rikuson.

"'He was already murdered when you entered the room. So you killed the rebel - is that not right?

It was, of all people, Lakan standing there…What was he doing here?

…Ah, Rikuson thought, it was all over now. There was no hiding anything from Lakan. He had neither good intentions nor bad, but would simply lay out the facts…

'You heard the man,' Lakan said to those around them.

'Wh-What do you mean, Grand Commandant Kan?'

'Hrm? He's telling the truth. He killed the rebel who killed the man. Where's the crime in that? If anything, this is all your fault for leaving such scant security.'

…There was much murmuring, but the general consensus was that if Grand Commandant Kan said it, then that was that…Their suspicion of Rikuson had been dispelled in an instant."

You'll note he doesn't lie for Rikuson. In fact, he offers a perfectly truthful understanding of what happened. The man is Takubatsu, whom Rikuson did in fact find murdered when he entered the room. And Gyoku-ou had essentially taken Jinshi hostage and was actively undermining the Imperial Brother's authority and legitimacy, which does make him a rebel.

But in protecting Rikuson, he offers a counterpoint to both Jinshi and Rikuson's observations that he has neither malice nor virtue, good intentions nor bad. Perhaps it is just that Rikuson has earned Lakan's liking and loyalty over the years, but it is growth.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Where Lakan has earned moments of redemption and growth, it is when he has shown that his fun is less important than those he cares about. There is an opportunity within the story for Lakan to act as Maomao's father in a way Luomen cannot - in the matter of her marriage.

If Lakan is willing to put all of his intuition and political cunning behind Maomao's choices regarding marriage and family, then he has the chance to finally perform an act of duty by his daughter that would establish a reason for Maomao to begin to display filial piety toward him.

But Maomao's marriage would absolutely challenge Lakan's fantasy of playing 'daddy'. It would literally require him to give away his child but more critically, it would mean giving up his fantasy of Maomao as a perpetual little girl and fully acknowledging the grown woman that she has become.

Whether Lakan is wiling to put Maomao's needs first above his own will be the crux of his character development. At no point has Lakan been malicious, but his carelessness has done more to shape Maomao's early life than any other influence. Could he do better? Perhaps. Will he? The answer to that question and how it affects Maomao's adult choices will shape his role within the story going forward - whether he will continue to doom the one relationship he wants more than any other in service of his own needs and fantasies, or if he will sacrifice them to do his duty by his daughter when it matters most.

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries meta #apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto #long text post #maomao #jinshi #jinshi and maomao #lakan #knh #knh anime #knh manga #knh spoilers #knh maomao #knh jinshi #luomen #rikuson #fengxian

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chatterbox-73 · 22 days ago

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Twelve days of Smutcember 2024.

Day 4 - Admit Causal.

Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Smutcember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Smutcember and if you want to see a character please let me know...

finally I think it’s important to note, I might be a person who celebrates Christmas, however I know not everyone does so I won’t/try not to mention or reference any particular festive holiday in these one shots, out of respect for everyone.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Summary: Levi has been quite frustrated lately and can’t seem to find somebody to satisfy he and still not want any emotional connection from it, until you.

Word count: 1.2k

CW: NSFW and adult content, implying oral/face fucking (m!receiving) unprotected sex, casual sex, rough sex, slightly teasing (non-sexual), slight aftercare, bagging, hair pulling and swearing.

Levi Ackerman didn’t need anyone, he is a very proud man and he knew he could do everything on his own and besides he preferred to be on his own anyway, it was always hard for him to socialise with others and more peaceful by himself.

However Levi never accounted for his sex drive going through the roof, sure Levi had been able to handle it on his own for a while but that started being useless, he did move on the satisfying himself with his subordinates. Though both Hanji and Erwin had a good laugh at Levi’s circumstances, especially when the person he’d be with, would begin the catch feeling for him and he’d have to let them go, this however caused a lot of fights and arguments, which would be comical if it was happening to anyone other then himself.

It was late in the day and you were walking back to the Barracks after finishing guarding the Yeager kid, as you stepped into the females bunker and walked towards your bed you noticed a woman sitting on her bed crying with her friend with comforting her. “He doesn’t love me, he only wanted my body” the woman sob as she rubbed her nose on her sleeve, “it’s okay, he’s just a grumpy little jerk” the other woman said as she rubber the crying woman’s back. “What’s all this about? Boyfriend dumb you? Need me to give him a talking to?” You chuckled as you stood in front of the women and crossed your arms, the crying woman huffed out a smile and shook her head, and that was the end of it.

Until three days later when you saw a crying person run out of Lieutenant Ackerman’s private quarters, with a half naked Levi chance them. “Ouch, must be the season of heartache, I mean just the other day a girl in my bunker had been broken up with” you chuckled and Levi glare at you, you gave him a quick look over and noticed a decent sized bulge in his pants, “nice dick” you winked as you began to walk away. “You can’t speak to your superior officer like that” Levi grumbled and all you could do was laugh, “and I’m pretty sure superior officers aren’t supposed to be walking around, showing off their hard dick…” you turned to face Levi and smirked “…but hey, if you want me that bad just say so, I wouldn’t mind” you ghost your hand over his throbbing erection, Levi shuttered and you moved away before leaving to go to the dining hall.

The days following this were quite entertaining, you weren’t sure weather Levi was trying to avoid you or appropriate you, however you enjoy this little game for quite some time until Hanji asked you to drop off papers to Levi’s office. You stood in Levi’s office as he read over Hanji’s reports, “oh also I believe section commander Zoe is going to take Yeager for some more experiments later” you sighed as you looked all around his office, ‘wow, he really is a clean freak’ you think to yourself as you look down at the spotless floor that was probably swapped and mopped just hours before your stopped by. “What’s so interesting with the floor?” Levi asked and you only shrugged, “well then stop staring at it, that’s disrespectful, look at someone when they’re talking to you” Levi huffed and you rolled your eyes, “you weren’t even talking” you watched as Levi knitted his brows together. “Anyways why are you more grumpy then usual?” You questioned as Levi stood up and walked over to you, “it’s been a while” he grumbled and you smirked “oh yeah… same” you chuckled and leaned into the short ravenette, before placing your hands on his shoulder. “When was the last time?” Levi cautiously moved his hands to your hips, “about a month… but if I’m being honest,” you hummed as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer, “I’ve been flicking my bean every night this week after seeing your naked chest” you whispered in his ear and felt him begin to harden. “Let me fuck you” Levi squeeze your hips as he grunted, however all you did was shaking your head no and before Levi could react you dropped on your knees in front of him.

Levi grunted as he gave his hips once last large thrust which caused you to gag on him, Levi slowly pulled out of your mouth and tapped his throbbing member against your tongue before slapping your cheek a few time with it, coating your cheek with saliva and pre-cum.

“Get up now” Levi yank you to your feet by your hair and then continued to pull you by you hair to his desk, Levi pushed you down over his desk, so your face and chest were pressed against the wood, before he pulled your pants and underwear down in one swift movement. “You still want it?” Levi hummed and you gasped out a loud ‘yes’, as you wiggled your ass.

The moment Levi get a ‘yes’ from you, was the moment he forced his length into you, “it’s so inviting” Levi grunted and instead began thrusting. Your nails gripped the wooden desk, your body jolted back and forth and you moan loudly as your dripping sex was being taken roughly, “oh heavens Lieutenant Ackerman, slow down” you shuddered however your body betrayed you as it begged for more. “Maybe another time, but right now I need this” Levi groaned and suddenly picked up his pace, the grip his has on your hips tightened to the point that began to hurt.

With out a warning your body quickly built up your climax, though before you could release Levi grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled your head back towards him, “don’t finish… not yet… a little longer” Levi struggled to talk and moaned loudly between each word. Your walls started squeezing around Levi’s thick member, as you tried to hold off from climaxing “please… I need to… please Levi” you moan, before hearing Levi grunted “finish… you can finish… on my cock” he gave rough thrusts with each pause in speaking he took. You didn’t need much convincing after that and you instantly reached your peck, your body went stiff and you shook uncontrollably as your cunt gushed all your juices, Levi quickly pulled out and released himself on your ass, with a very loud groan you didn’t expect.

After coming down from his high Levi grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his cum off your ass, following this he helped you stand and fix your pants. “This is only sex… so don’t get it twisted” Levi grumble and glared at you as you started laughing, “well that’s a relief, now don’t go falling in love with me Lieutenant Ackerman” you hummed as you walked towards the exit, “am I that repulsive, that you are relief I have no feelings for you?” He questioned and just as you opened the door to leave you turned back. “Of course not, Admiral casual, you just have the emotional range of a teaspoon and you’re quite the grumpy little jerk” you leave with a smiled and Levi takes a moment to process your words, before chuckling to himself.

Day 3 - Eijiro Kirishima: An actress’ hero.

Day 5 - Daichi Sawamura: Official business.

Smutcember Masterlist (Coming soon)

Masterlist

#fem!reader #aot #aot smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader smut #levi x reader #aot levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #snk smut #smutcember 2024 #smutcember

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qs63 · 2 months ago

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I've seen many posts about the way Riza and Roy address each other, and I wanted to add my 5 cents as someone who is learning Japanese and reading the Japanese manga as part of that process (it's been fun and informative!).

There are two particular scenes I want to discuss in this post:

The first scene is their conversation under the tunnel on the Promised Day.

貴方はそちらに堕ちてはいけない･･･!

You must not fall into that…

If you've been around here for any amount of time you probably know that Riza breaks protocol in this scene and calls Roy "貴方" (anata, you). You might also know that in Japanese people don't usually address each other as “you”, preferring to use someone's name and/or title to address them. So Riza calling Roy “anata” would sound too rude or too intimate (as this is what a wife might call her husband).

HOWEVER, anime and manga don’t use conventional Japanese. Any Japanese person will be quick to tell you that anime’s Japanese is not proper. It's often exaggerated for comedic or creative purposes. This phenomenon was once also common in English comics.

Think of all the cringe lines in the old Batman TV shows and comics. I even remember reading a note from Stan Lee in a 1960s Ironman comic saying: “We know people don't talk like this in real life”. So yeah…

The use of the many forms of “you” is common in anime/manga even if it's not proper Japanese. Fullmetal Alchemist is no exception to this.

Here is Riza calling Rebecca anata:

And Winry:

And even Barry (lol):

Riza addressing Roy as “anata” is not exactly special or a sign of them being close to each other. That's just how she normally addresses people.

Well kind of…

FMA does follow its own internal formality logic. The way the members of the military address each other is very well defined. Riza not calling Roy — a superior officer — by his official title or by “Sir” IS breaking protocol. It's not how she usually addresses him, nor how she should be addressing him.

The reason why she does this here — to my still in-training Japanese eye — is not because of closeness, or kinship, or whatever. I read this as a plea from Riza — not Lieutenant Hawkeye — to Roy — not Colonel Mustang.

Arakawa actually goes out of her way to preserve a sense of distance and propriety between them by using the kanji form of "anata" (貴方) — which can be read as more formal or stiff — instead of the commonly used kana form (あなた). This is the only instance where we see the kanji form in Riza's speech (see Rebecca, Winry, and Barry above), so its use here is VERY intentional. To me this is Arakawa's way of showing the reader (not to Roy because he will hear "anata" regardless of how it's written) that even though Riza is using an improper, somewhat familiar, way to address him, she is still trying to be proper and show reverence to him as her superior officer.

In a sense this line is actually the opposite of Riza showing a sense of closeness to Roy. What it does show is just how much she looks up to him, and how serious she takes both of their roles.

貴方はそちらに堕ちてはいけない･･･!

You must not fall into that…

Is both an order and a plea to the man that carries her and her father's dream.

The second scene I want to discuss is the one time Roy calls Riza by her first name.

リザ！！

Riza!!

Again, this might look somewhat weird or overly familiar. Calling someone by first name without any honorifics is usually a no, no in Japanese.

HOWEVER, Amestris is not Japan. Like I said, FMA follows its own formality system, which seems to align more closely with what you would expect in an Anglo society than in a Japanese one. The use of honorifics is not overly common, especially for honorifics like “chan” which may be the one expected from Roy in this scene.

In FMA “Kun” and “Chan” are pretty much exclusively reserved for children. And its use seems to be more of a form of endearment than a social protocol. For example, Riza and Fuery both use "Kun" for Ed and Al, but the rest of team Mustang does not.

Winry using “chan” with Elicia.

Roy knows Riza's name, she's not a small child, they're of a similar social status, and she's not in a position of authority. There's no reason why he should call her anything but Riza.

This btw doesn't indicate any closeness between them. Just like someone calling you by first name wouldn't necessarily indicate any closeness in an English-speaking country.

Here are some examples of people calling each other by first name right after meeting:

Ed calls Rose by first name.

Winry calls Paninya by first name right after introducing themselves.

Al calls Ling by first name shortly after meeting each other.

More interesting than Roy calling Riza by first name, is Riza calling Roy “Mr Mustang” in return.

Riza calls Roy "マスタングさん" (Mr Mustang).

“San” (Mr/Mrs/Miss) is by far the most common honorific used in FMA, just like “Mr” would be in English. But regular people don't usually go calling each other “Mr last name”, especially not outside of a formal environment like school or work. In FMA “San” is mainly used for older people you're not very close to (The Elric brothers call many of the adults as "Mr Last name"), and for people with authority (Knox calls Roy “Mr Mustang” despite Roy being significantly younger).

The combination of first name (Roy to Riza) plus Mr last name (Riza to Roy) tells us that the relationship between Roy and Riza is NOT that of equals. In Riza's eyes Roy is in a position that warrants the use of “San”. And it makes sense, he's older, he's a Warrant Officer, and judging by Roy's questions about her family, and her “Do you remember me?” during the war, they're not too familiar with each other at this point.

Yeah… the way Roy and Riza address each other throughout the series is distant and proper of their station and rank. In terms of Roy's relationships the way Roy and Hughes, Chris and Roy, and even Knox and Roy, address each other is way more unusual than the way Riza and Roy do (I could make a follow up post about this if anyone is interested).

As a Royai fan I must say seeing this made me a bit sad. I can only wish and imagine a future where these two can finally address each other on equal footing and with the closeness their devotion to each other deserves.

#fullmetal alchemist #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fma meta #fma

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koshkamartell · 5 months ago

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No One But Me

masterlist

chapter warnings: unhinged! Joel, mentions of PSTD, nightmares, drugging, forced captivity, mention of pregnancy.

Beau Henley was on night patrol at the front gates of Jackson that night. He didn't enjoy the shift; it was boring and uneventful and seemed to stretch on forever, the minutes ticking by slower than molasses in winter time. Because he wasn't properly trained as a sniper shooter yet, he was posted on the inside of the gates on the ground more often than the lookout points, which were a hell of alot more exciting than pacing back and forth in the snow with the same unmoving view of the town.

Beau hated it but he couldn't argue with Tommy and Maria about the roster when he was still a junior ranger. Beau had to suck it up and pay his dues, do all the boring shit like check the inside perimetre and stand around during the tedious night shifts guarding the gate. There was so much more to keeping Jackson safe than just riding around on horseback with a loaded rifle like the heroes in the cowboy comics he used to read as a kid. It wasn't all fun and games and action, like the young generation seemed to think it was. There was protocol to follow and a heirchary of roles that had to be exercised, and unfortunately for Beau he was stuck at the bottom in the chain of command.

He couldn't wait to rise through the ranks. Once he had a few more accomplishments under his belt then he could patrol outside more often, which is what most junior rangers dreamed of. Beau loved the thrill that came with patrolling outside the community and the possibility of running into infected or raiders. He also loved the weight of a gun in his hands, how it was seen as a symbol of authority and power. He hadn't had the opportunity to shoot anyone yet but his finger itched to pull the trigger on his rifle. Goddamn, he couldn't wait for an excuse to blast someone's head off with a clean shot.

For now all Beau could do was try to stay out of trouble and demonstrate his potential as a patrolman who would one day take over from the likes of Joel, Troy and Tommy. He tried, but his hot headed nature and egotistical persona occasionally got him in the shit with his superiors. Beau could usually weasel his way out of someone's bad books with a manipulative, charming pretence of good manners and what seemed like sincere apologies. He knew just how much humility to exhibit before he started to look like a kiss ass. The older men could see how strong and eager he was and would let him off with a light warning. Women were easier, though. Beau found his golden boy good looks worked particularly well on women of all ages, so all he needed to do was flash a smile or do some bullshit gentleman thing like hold a door open for them and any grievance was forgotten.

Except when it came to that teasing bitch, Rhi. His cheeks still redden at the memory of Joel Miller reprimanding him for simply jesting with her. All Beau had been doing was showing off to his friends while shooting his shot, silly stuff that guys sometimes did when they were looking for a fuck and being egged on by their guy friends. It had been harmless. But whatever. One day he would rule this fucking town and he could have some glory for himself, including all the pussy he could dream of.

Beau stood at the checkpoint at the gates that night with a rolled cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth, idly fantasising about the latest girl he had flirted with at the Tipsy Bison. He was about to take a piss break when he spotted the black silhouette of a large figure on horseback approaching the check point. There looked to be a small cart attached to the horse as it clopped through the snow.

Now what the fuck do we have here?

Beau's eyes squinted curiously as the figure advanced, the features of their face shroud in shadows and unidentifiable from a distance. He took one last long suck on his cigarette and then tossed it on the ground by his boot.

"Whose that?" Beau called, smoke exhaling from the side of his mouth. The figure did not reply but continued to approach him, mysterious and forboding in its dark anonymity. He threw a quick glance at the guard at the lookout point at the top of the gate above him, who just shrugged in return.

When the figure ontop of the horse finally came close enough for the lamplight to illuminate their face, Beau's mouth fell open in shock and confusion.

"Joel?"

Like an almighty general prepared to go to battle, Joel Miller looked formidable and tyrannical sat atop his horse, Tex. The greying curls of his hair were unruly and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual, yet his orbs were steely and distant; he looked simultaneously exhausted and wired, a disconcerting combination that made Beau feel anxious.

Beau stuck out his chest and stood straight in an attempt to appear assertive, but he couldn't quite disguise the tinge of fear that came creeping into his voice when he spoke.

"Joel, uhm, sir. What can I--"

"Open the gate." Joel demanded simply without meeting Beau's eyes.

"What?" Beau was utterly bewildered by the situation. No one had ever passed through the gates alone or outside of the scheduled duties - it was unheard of and certainly an unprecedented occurance. He had no clue what to do but wondered just what the hell Joel was up to. "Where are you going? I mean, what are you doing? You aren't on patrol tonight. You can't just leave the town."

Joel's jaw ticked once before his head tipped down to glare down at Beau with icy hatred. Joel Miller was an intimidating man at the best of times but when he was displeased he appeared downright frightening; his eyes looked almost black and a dangerous energy radiated from his being, punctuated by a snarl on his lips and a flare of his nostrils. The single gaze from Joel made Beau made gulp involuntarily and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Open the gate." Joel commanded once more, gritting his teeth in aggravation. "Now."

"Joel, I mean sir, you gotta fill out the log book, you gotta record the reason you're leaving," Beau blabbered. "We can't just let anyone go out without permission--"

Without breaking eye contact Joel slowly reached into his coat pocket and produced his pistol. Beau's words immediately died in his throat at the sight of the weapon and when he heard the threatening clicking of the hammer being pulled back, his stomach clenched and his blood turned cold. Although Joel hadn't pointed the muzzle directly at him the warning was still loud and clear.

Whatever the fuck Joel had planned, there was no mistaking how serious he was. Beau held up his lightly trembling hands and nodded vigorously.

"Okay, okay, hold on, I'll tell them to let you out." His head snapped up to look to the guards at the top level of the wall above them. They were already peering down and intently watching the interaction, concerned yet not daring to aim their own guns at the infamous Joel Miller. Beau hurriedly signalled for them to open the gates.

The wooden infrastructure creaked laboriously as the massive fortress like entrance gradually unfurled. A sudden blast of frosty wind rushed through the gap, a prompt demonstration of just how unforgiving the fierce wilderness could be outside the commune. Only somebody crazy would go out in such conditions, Beau thought. If that was what Joel wanted to then he really is as fucking crazy as they say.

Steeling himself against the wind Beau folded his arms tightly around his chest and trekked backwards a few steps, giving a wide berth to Tex and the cart. Joel rode passed him without speaking a word, the pistol still held tightly in one of his gloved hands. Aside from the dim moonlight and twinkling stars in the sky the landscape beyond the walls was devoid of light. Beau watched silently as Joel departed through the gateway and out into the ominously black wilderness, the cart rolling behind Tex like a faithful old dog trailing after it's owner.

Beau stood frozen on the spot until the entrance to the outside world was folded back and sealed once more. He frowned and shook his head, not knowing what exactly to make of the surreal situatikn that had just occured. It had been like a dream, too peculiar for Beau to fully process. He was suspended in the trance like state until the uncomfortable throb in his groin reminded him that he needed to empty his bladder. He whirled around and marched over to a nearby bush tucked into the shadows along the gate.

"Fucking psycho," Beau muttered to himself.

If Joel Miller wanted to go outside Jackson in the middle of the night, who the fuck was he to stop him? And why should he? He hated Joel; why should he give a shit that the old man was going against community rules and acting like a crazy person? It wasn't any of his business, and so he wasn't about to sound off any emergency sirens.

Fuck the Millers.

The idea had been significantly less challenging to execute than Joel had originally thought. It had not been something he wanted to do so soon and with so little preparation, but he felt he had little choice right now. After the confrontation with Ellie had essentially shattered Joel's world, his ability to employ logic and critical thinking had been shattered, too. His main reasoning for surviving these years now despised him. There was no coming back from that. How could she ever forgive him? When she spat those cursed words at him, Joel's fight or flight had been activated and all he wanted to do was flee.

Leaving Jackson had just been a fanciful notion until now. A distant desire kept tucked at the back of Joel's mind that subconsciously spurred him to collect and stow away bits and pieces for the future venture. If he had more time to adequate prepare, he would have done so methodically to ensure the safest possible journey for you both. There were so many facets to consider for survival, after all. But time was not on Joel's side; he didn't have as many supplies as he wished, but he had the basic neccessities and they would have to suffice. You would have to learn to get by.

He had been quite convincing in his explanation to you. He told you Ellie had blown up at him over something and then he had a panic attack, but things were okay and he just needed to go back home and rest. You seemed to understand, and even looked a little sympathetic. When you made your nightly cup of tea and left it to steep in the kitchen while you went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Joel worked quickly.

He retrieved the sleeping pills from the box in the closet then returned to the kitchen. Using the handle of a carving knife he methodically crushed the pills into a powder, then swept the dust into his palm. He sprinkled the pile into your mug of tea and stirred it until completely dissolved.

You had no inkling of what Joel had done, not even when your eyelids started feeling heavy soon after finishing your drink. It wasn't long after that you slipped into a deep sleep on the couch. He had given you enough to be confident that you wouldn't rouse for several hours. You did not wake up when he carried you out of the house over his shoulder. You did not stir when he set you in the cart and bundled you with blankets and one of his coats.

You were dead to the world when Joel transported you both out of Jackson and away from everyone and everything you knew and loved.

The next morning Tommy Miller kissed Maria and his sons goodbye and walked out the front door of their home to begin his day of work. As he twisted the doorknob shut behind him he winced at the twinge of pain that was already leeching into the joints of his knuckles. With each passing season Tommy was becoming more aware of how old he was getting, how the weather and demanding physical work was impacting upon his body, how his tolerance for ineptitude was waning faster. But it was his two young children who gave him the strength to persist each day, it was their youthful innocence that motivated him to fulfil his role within the commune with a smile on his face.

Family was everything. And with that in mind, Tommy knew he had to be gentle talking with Joel today. He needed to be ready incase Joel needed his support and counsel after what happened with Ellie.

The brothers were scheduled together on the day patrol today. Whenever they were working alongside each other they met outside Tommy's house ten minutes prior to the shift and walked to the stables together. Tommy liked the unspoken routine and he suspected Joel did, too, and it seemed to help their relationship improve significantly over the past two years.

However, this morning was different. There was no sign of Joel waiting for him out the front of the house. Tommy turned his head to scan around up and down the street but could not find any sign of his brother. It was completely unlike Joel to be late or missing in action - his fastidious temperment made him pedantic about things like punctuality, and so for Joel to be missing this morning was strange.

It was strange. And it was worrying.

Tommy very quickly tried to rationalise Joel's absence, to calm the instant swoop of alarm that flashed through his gut. Perhaps Joel was sick and couldn't get up out of bed this morning? Maybe he had a late night and didn't wake up in time and was on his way right this second?

Tommy desperately wanted to believe in the actuality of these reasons, even the possibility of them, but deep down he knew they weren't going to be true. He could feel the growing spiral of dread circling inside his stomach, urging him to trust his intuition that something was definitely not right, that Joel was infact in a great deal of trouble.

Tommy bolted into the street and took off in the direction of Joel's home.

When you woke up and opened your eyes, everything in your line of vision was completely blurred. It took a good minute for all the fuzzy shapes and pools of colour to become distinct objects as your eyes gradually adjusted to your surroundings. Laying on your back, the ceiling above you was the first thing you became conscious of. It was made of a darkened shade of wood, totally unfamiliar to you. Your gaze rolled around to see the surrounding walls, bare of any decorations or pictures, made of the same kind of timber.

This isn't Joel's house, and it definitely isn't your cottage.

With great effort you slowly sat up onto your elbows, your head leaden with the sedation of heavy sleep and your body devoid of strength. You registered the feeling of warm, soft flannelette sheets under your hands and realised you were laying ontop of a bed.

A stranger's bed.

Your unfocused gaze skitted around until your eyes settled on the outline of a man's figure across the room. He had his back to you as he crouched down infront of a fire place. Your heart skipped a beat with alarm, but through your foggy vision you quickly recognised the crown of soft greying curls, the colour of his favourite Carthartt jacket.

Joel.

You desperately wanted to speak, to somehow get his attention so he would look your way, but your mouth felt too dry, your throat so parched. You rolled your tongue over the roof of your mouth, the ridges of your palate rough with lack of saliva. You parted your lips but no sound came out. It seemed to take all your effort to get the signals between your brain and your mouth to work in conjunction with one another just to form a single word.

"Joel?" You were finally able to mumur, groggy.

You watched the figure remain in the same spot by the fireplace, his broad back still turned to you, unmoving. He must not have heard you.

You blinked with weighted deliberation, trying to fight against the overpowering tug of drowsiness that was beginning to coax you back to sleep. You opened your mouth again to try speak but it stayed shut, like your jaws were glued together and unable to open. Then your arms gave way and your elbows slipped so that you lay supine once more, your upper body too weighty for you to stay elevated. As soon as the back of your head hit the pillow you once again fell into a dreamless slumber.

Unfortunately for Tommy, his premonition had not been unfounded. When he barged into Joel's house he discovered neither you or Joel were there. The silence was deafening as he searched through the rooms on both levels, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

Fuck.

Tommy rushed to the stables. Tex's stall was empty. There was no sign of the horse in the paddock.

With his heart thundering in his chest and his stomach roiling with anxiety, Tommy sprinted from the stables toward the front gates. His mind was a cacophony of dread filled thoughts.

Joel's dead.

Joel's left.

But there's no fucking way, it's not possible, right? If Joel had left then somebody would have seen him, somebody would have stopped him.

When Tommy reached the check point at the front gate Beau was leaning over the log book, pencilling his signature and clock out time.

"Who was on last night?" Tommy yelled, striding up to him with his fists balled at his sides. "Who the fuck was on watch?"

Beau turned around to face him with a timid reluctance. "Uh, me, sir."

Tommy stood directly infront of Beau, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and quell his anxiety all at the same time. "Did you see Joel walk through the gates?"

"Well...." He puffed up his cheeks and blew out a sigh of air, shrugging indifferently. "He wanted to go out. So yeah, Tommy, I did. I let him out."

Outraged, Tommy roughly grabbed Beau by the collar of his jacket and jerked him close to his face. Beau's eyes widened and he held his hands up in a surrender pose, suddenly made speechless by Tommy's aggression.

"And you didn't fuckin' tell anyone until just now?!" Tommy roared, his teeth bared.

Beau swallowed thickly and shook his head rapidly. The smug bravado he usually exhibits had totally vanished, all the arrogance drained from his body as the senior man chastised his spineless character. Tommy wanted nothing more than to punch the young man square in the face, but the urgency of the situation granted him the restraint to stop. He cannot get sidetracked, cannot waste precious time on a piece of shit like Beau when Joel has probably kidnapped you and skipped town. No, the penalty for Beau's mistake will have to be served after Tommy sorts all this shit out.

He let go of Beau's collar and shoved him backwards, his top lip curled in disgust.

"Gutless piece of shit," Tommy spat. "I'll deal with you later. Get the fuck out of here and don't say shit to anyone."

He had to find you.

Although the log cabin was not large and wouldn't take long to warm up, Joel tried to get a decent fire going as soon as he settled you into bed.

He stared at the small flames crackling in the fireplace before him, waiting patiently as the fire finally began to swell and engulf the logs sitting in the middle. He was eager to feel some kind of heat; his body was still stiff from the journey in the freezing cold and the ache in his bones radiated in tandem with the throb of the jagged scar on his abdomen. These physical ailments were bitter reminders of his age and shortcomings, of just how mortal he was.

Joel had endured the brunt of the harsh weather as he navigated his horse through the snowy night, with the harsh wind chapping his lips and smarting his eyes. He had made certain, however, that you had been insulated from the elements as well as possible, bundling your body up in a blanket and one of his thick jackets.

The journey here had not been too far from town, for the cabin was one of the checkpoints along the northern route Jackson patrol. It would serve as a halfway stopping point for you and Joel for half a day, just long enough for him to prepare some food and clean out the supplies there. Then you would be travelling further up the state to a bigger cabin, one Joel had discovered on the last raiders mission. The raiders had used it as their base and it had been well furnished and stocked. It would make an ideal home for the two of you, one where you were remote enough to not be disturbed.

Joel thought he heard you stir, that he heard the phantom echo of your voice say his name. He turned back to check on you but you were sound asleep on the bed, the features of your face lax as you rested. His mind must be playing tricks on him. He anticipated that the sleeping tablets would keep you knocked out for atleast another six hours. But the fatigue has started to seep in to Joel now, and the longer he stays awake the more sluggish his brain becomes, his movements slowing like a child's wind up toy.

He ascended carefully from his crouched position, his knees cracking and his back aching. He had to sleep before he passed out completely. Joel lumbered over to the bed and lowered his body down beside your sleeping form, the springs of the bed frame squeaking underneath his weight. The instantaneous relief flooded over him and he groaned loudly. He would rest just for a little, just enough to recharge.

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you tightly into the crook of his arm before descending into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It had been a restless night for Oscar. Another night of vivid dreams and the harrowing retelling of Elvie's final moments, a jumble of vignettes and imagery that made him toss and turn and tangle in the bedsheets.

The last dream had been the worst. More often than not, the most distressing ones were the most simple and unembellished. Usually they began with Oscar searching the woods for Elvie, eventually finding her standing at the edge of a cliff top with her back to him. He calls her name and approaches her. Elvie turns to face him, her face streaked with tears and her large eyes anguished, her hands placed over the round globe of her pregnant stomach. She shakes her head gently and outstretches her arm to show Oscar the fresh wound in her skin.

Bitten.

Infected.

She was bitten after they escaped from a clicker just hours earlier. Understanding of just what Elvie is planning to do hits Oscar with torturous clarity. He lunges to her but he's a second too late, and she topples over the edge of the cliff.

Oscar jerks awake with a loud gasp of air rushing into his lungs. He immediately sits up, panting inbetween coughing and spluttering. He pounds on his chest with his fist to try clear away the choking sensation, and it is truly distressing just how prolonged the sense of terror; it floods throughout his whole being, making his brain race and his limbs shake.

Oscar gasps as he digs his palms into his eye sockets. He waits for his heart to stop thundering.

Oh, how he longs so desperately for a reprieve from the pain and the nightmares, from the yearning and despair.

A series of knocks hammering from the front door of his cottage pulls Oscar back to reality. He somehow manages to stumble out of bed and drag a sweater over his head before shuffling to answer the door.

Oscar is surprised to find Tommy standing on his porch. Before he can say a word Tommy begins explaining the situation.

"Joel's lost the plot, big time." Tommy sighs, shaking his head in dismay. "He's taken her and left. They left late last night."

The news hits Oscar with a force that makes his heart clench inside his chest; it's a crushing pain that squeezes his very soul. "Left? What the hell do you mean? Why would Joel do that?"

"Somethin' happened between him and his daughter. I ain't goin' into details but it hit him hard, so he's not thinkin' straight." Tommy explains calmly. He knows now isn't time to deal with indignation or rage - he need to get down to business and formulate a plan as soon as possible.

Oscar tries to process his words. There is no way you would have left Jackson on your own accord. This is your home for goddsake, where your entire life resides. Oscar pictures you being dragged through snow, whimpering and begging for Joel to let you stay.

The pain in his sternum morphs into a white hot rage that rips through his core. Tommy recognises the torrent of emotion dawning over Oscar, how his eyes blaze wide and accusing, his top lip curling with wrath.

"I know," Tommy assures him quickly but not unkindly, holding up his hands. "I only found out this mornin', otherwise I wouldn't be here - I'd be out there already."

"She would never leave Jackson," Oscar snaps. "Tommy we gotta go get her, right now, right this minute."

Tommy reaches out and plants a firm hand on his shoulder. "Oscar, I gotta come up with a plan first. Can't just hunt 'em down and demand they come back to Jackson."

Oscar exhales harshly through his nose, clearly on the verge of lashing out. "But she could be in danger, Tommy."

"Joel ain't in a good state of mind right now. We gotta be careful." Tommy gives his shoulder a small squeeze, an imploring gesture that begs him for understanding. "The last thing I want is for her to get hurt, but we gotta do this the right way, or else it'll end up worse than this."

Oscar runs his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily. He knows Tommy is right; given Joel's history as a raider and a skilled hunter, this situation will require strategy and diplomacy, lest someone get injured or worse. Oscar cannot bear the thought of you caught in the middle of all this chaos. He cannot even allow himself to entertain the mere possibility of you getting hurt.

"I'm gettin' a group together to go find 'em. You sit tight here and I'll be back when I round everybody up." Tommy instructs Oscar. "We'll all go together. Get ready and be waitin'."

Tommy leaves Oscar's cottage with brisk, determined strides. Oscar watches him disappear down the street, most likely going to round up Troy first. It'll take some time to get a party ready, to equip themselves with rifles and horses and an official plan of action. More precious time wasted that could be finding you, Oscar surmises.

He can't waste any more time. He can't lose you. He may not have been able to save Elvie, but he was going to save you, even if it killed him.

Oscar dashes back to his room and scrambles to get dressed in his thickest, warmest clothes. He swipes his glasses off the night stand and shoves his feet into his boots. He can't be weighted down by anything more than what is essential, so he forgoes taking his sachet with him.

The only provision Oscar allows himself to carry is a pocket knife he managed to stow away from a patrol mission a long time ago. He tucks it in his jacket pocket at the last minute. His impulsively and urgency stops him from contemplating the actuality that he could run into danger; that the knife itself is a comparatively insufficient means of protection when the likes of clickers and bloaters could be roaming wild on the outside.

It doesn't matter. All that matters is finding you.

Oscar doesn't wait for Tommy to return. Ten minutes later he's saddled up on one of the horses and trotting through the front gates of the town.

••••••

The next time you wake up from the tranquilizing trance of the sleeping pills Joel slipped you, your brain is instantly more lucid and sharp and you are no longer groggy. When you sit up your vision is clear and you are able to fully process the reality around you this time - you are somewhere foreign to your usual surroundings but you are warm and uninjured. And Joel is with you.

You turn your head and see him sitting at a small wooden table near the fireplace this time. There is a disassembled pistol laying on the table top and in his hands is a rag. He's cleaning the pieces individually.

"Joel?" You speak croakily, grimacing at the dryness of your mouth. Joel glances up at you with no expression on his face; he says nothing before returning his attention back to the task before him.

You swing your legs to the edge of the bed and rise to stand cautiously on your wobbly legs. "Where are we?"

He remains silent, still focused on the rag and the gun part in his hands. You watch him as he works the stained rag over the barrel and the muzzle for a minute, quietly observing his appearance; you note how tight and hunched his posture is, aswell as the dark circles under his eyes and the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You have never seem him so on edge before.

"Joel, where are we and why are we here?" You repeat a little more firmly, your eyes fixed on his face.

"Cabin not too far from Jackson." He finally mutters.

You're outside of Jackson?

"W-why?" You gasp.

Joel abruptly stops cleaning the pistol and let's the part drop onto the table, the metal clattering loudly against the wooden top. You're startled by the sudden movement and automatically scoot back on the bed away from him, bracing yourself for an impending slap or harsh word. Yet nothing happens to you; Joel stays seated, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, his eyes screwed shut like he's in pain. You watch on as he exhales loudly and shakes his head, as if he's fighting off an unpleasant memory that's plaguing him.

"Ellie hates me," Joel confesses, his gravelly voice sounding thick in his throat. "I did somethin' bad. I...I hurt alotta people to save her. And now she found out and she won't ever forgive me."

The memory of Joel's panic attack from last night promptly comes flooding back to you. It makes sense that he would catastrophise an argument with Ellie, considering just how deepp he loves her. He must have needed some space away from where she was to get himself together mentally.

"Okay...," you speak hesitantly. "Why don't you just give her some time to cool down and then talk to her? I'm sure it'll blow over."

Joel's eyes flicker open but he doesn't look at you. He runs his hand over his mouth and sighs heavily. "It won't."

You sigh and shake your head a little, uncertain how to comfort him any further. You privately vow you would try your best to help mend their relationship once you get back to Jackson.

"When are we going back?" You ask, looking around the cozy cabin. "And why don't I remember getting here?"

Joel is quiet and unmoving, almost like a statue save for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The longer the silence between you continues, the more aware you become of the sickening sense of tredipation beginning to simmer in your gut. Something isn't right. Something bad is happening.

"Joel!" You cry with exasperation. "Tell me!"

"We ain't goin' back." Joel replies lowly, his brown eyes finally rolling up to stare at you.

"What? Why?"

"We can't live there anymore." Joel says softly. "There's nothin' there for us. 'S best we just make our own life somewhere else."

Somewhere else? Where else was there? Your understanding of the world outside Jackson was very limited, but you knew what awaited outside the safety of the community; desolate place, vast and perilous, filled with monstrous beings and devoid of anything resembling purity or joy.

And that's where Joel had taken you. Away from everything and everyone you ever loved, away from safety and comfort and happiness. You would never see your friends again. You would never step foot in your cottage again. You would never see Oscar again.

Your heart races. The walls are closing in on you as the reality of the situation sinks in. Your lungs feel tight and constricted and you struggle to breathe.

"I love you," Joel confesses, his voice thick with tears, his eyes piercing into yours. "I couldn't leave you there. I can't do this without you. We can have a good life out here, I promise, I'll keep you safe. We won't have anyone else interferrin'."

You shake your head frantically, tears of terror starting to well in your eyes. "No, no, no! This is insane! I want to go back!"

You try to run but your legs are so weak and your head is still swimming; your limbs and brain aren't yet coordinated enough to allow you to move nimbly. When you stumble Joel anticipates your move and is by your side in a flash. Before you hit the ground he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you tight against his body. You sag into his belly and begin to sob helplessly.

"I can't, Joel, please don't do this to me," you wail with your face buried in his chest.

Joel holds you against his front and nuzzles his nose into the hair ontop of your head. "You're all I got left. I'll take care of you, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Something in his words spark a flame of anger from your very core. After all the abuse and hurt Joel's made you suffer through, the promise he speaks at this moment sounds nothing but a poisonous lie. A sweet, hope filled vow of love that inevitably eventuates into a punishing battle for domination and forced submission. That is all you and Joel will ever have. For the rest of your life, he will hold power over you until he breaks you down irrevocably, with no family or friends anywhere around you.

You cannot allow him to do this to you.

You need to escape.

You covertly peek out the corner of your eye to spy the front door. It's the only way to enter and exit the cabin. It's your only way out.

And it's now or never.

You suddenly shove against Joel's chest with all your might and rip yourself out of his embrace. Before he can grab you and pull you back, you pivot and make a run for the front dood. You grasp hold of the knob and haphazardly twist it back and forth until the door clicks open. You fling it wide and it crashes loudly against the exterior of the cabin, but you don't care how much commotion you make. You just need to run.

With your heart thumping in your chest you sprint into the open like a hare on the loose. It is freezing outside the warm cocoon of the cabin and the pinching shock of the snow on the bottom of your bare feet makes you hiss, but you push onward.

Your frantic eyes dart around the environment - you are somewhere within a forest and you can see nothing but snow and trees. You have no clue in which direction to run, but you instinctively launch straight ahead.

For a fleeting second there is a swell of triumphant energy powering you. You can do this.

You can be free.

Then it all comes abruptly crashing down; you trip over your own foot and collapse face first onto the ground with a harsh smack. You squeal in pain when your chin connects to the floor of the forest and the skin of your knees and hands scrape against the icy snow.

Joel is on you within a matter of seconds. "Fuckin' hell," he grumbles to himself. His strong, rough hands grip your arms and haul you back up to your feet. He seems to exert little to no effort corralling you back inside the cabin, dragging you like a scolded kitten being carried by the scruff of its neck.

He shoves you to the ground and slams the door shut firmly behind him. You fall onto the floor on your ass with a thud.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Joel roars as he glares down at you.

"I'm not staying here with you!" You yell defiantly, glowering up at him from where you are sprawled on the floor.

"You got no fuckin' choice!" His baritone voice booms back at you. "You ain't never been outside Jackson since you got there! You really think you could survive by yourself? Think you could out run infected or a band of raiders?"

Joel is right. You have never shot a gun. You would have no idea how to fight for your survival, whether it be against infected or the weather or another person.

You have never stepped foot outside the gates as an adult, had never even been on patrol before. It wasn't in your personality to want to explore or venture; you had always been too soft, too traumatised as a child yet too sheltered as an adult to even want to brave the outside.

You had never been a great candidate to be a ranger physically, anyway - your body is weak and soft from lack of proper nutrition and disordered eating, unable to defend or attack. You were just one of the many shelteted residents of Jackson that were kept safe by those more powerful and capable than you, like feeble lambs watched over vigilantly by shepards at all times. Except now you felt like a lamb tricked and led astray from the security of your flock by a cunning and blood thirsty wolf.

"I want to go back, Joel." You sob pathetically. "I don't want to be here!"

"Well congratulations, because we ain't fuckin' stayin'!" Joel shouts back, the dimple in his cheek flexing.

You flinch and bow your head, letting the sudden pool of tears cascade from over the rim of your eyes and down your cheeks. You swipe at your running nose with the sleeve of your sweater and listen to Joel's boots thunder over the floorboards as he strides over to a rucksack by the fireplace. He crouches down to retrieve something from inside it.

"Don't wanna hear another fuckin' word out of you," Joel snarls. "So I'm gonna make sure you don't try anythin' stupid like that again."

When he stands up straight again and stalks back over to you, you begin to shake with wracking sobs. He towers before you, his dark brown eyes ablaze with fury as he starts unwinding a long length of rope between his two hands.

You can't save yourself this time.

You can't fight this.

You are going to need a saviour.

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