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yourwinchesterbros · 7 months

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THE TWO OF US

Paring – Joel Miller x Fem reader / 10.3K Words

Summary – You find Joel taking care of you yet again, but not in the way you want. Tonight, you decide to address it.

A/N - I couldn’t stop thinking about this, so I decided to write it. Inspired by Episode 3 of the last of us, takes place in the clearing that Joel and Ellie settle in for the night but this time, it’s Joel and you.

Warnings – Minors, do not interact. This fic is 18+ only

The filthiest thing I’ve written so far, and I put all the blame on Joel Miller. He makes me absolutely feral!

Smut with little plot. Poor girl gets edged for way too long, teasing, masturbation for both, daddy kink, pet names - pretty girl, brat, sweetheart etc. (Joel calls reader whore once) Dirty talk, thigh riding, reader humps her sleeping bag, cursing, soft/dom Joel. Mentions of murder, blood, and wounds and weapons – knives, gun. (Reader has a small cut). Joel is in his fifties; readers age is not specified but absolutely over the age of 20. Please Let me know if I’ve missed anything! Enjoy!

“We’re stopping here f’ the night.”

Joel accelerates the Chevy S-10 ranger off the familiar pavement and onto the rough prairie towards the forest line. The uneven earth below you causes the truck to wobble, you grip the handle mounted above you to stay steady.

The sun is on its way to set and reveal the sky she has in mind for this evening. You hope it’s another blue and pink one, when the clouds blend it becomes a milky mauve and it’s Joel's favourite kind of sunset. Which naturally, and secretly, is the very reason why it’s become your favourite too.

You roll down the passenger window with the manual hand crank, wincing at the sore residing across your collarbone. A souvenir from earlier endeavors. Well, early as in this very morning.

When you and Joel came across what seemed like a stationed FEDRA stop, relief washed over when it was revealed to be just a band of yahoos. You quickly learned they were as nervous as you. Ironically enough, that’s an advantage, as your travelling partner was unlike the lot of you all. Joel possesses a different mindset than others. A different perspective that was always so solidified. Certain.

As the air in the environment shifted, it became hostile. This was a group with no good intentions. Not for the two of you anyhow. Yet you saw the fear grow in their eyes when Joel charged, surging forward, letting survival take over. The thing is, Joel also has a different sense of fear. Such as fear of getting off track while trying to find his brother, among a fear of running out of coffee and most impending, the fear of getting old. That one makes you laugh.

Therefore, when the two of you approached the group of three men and a lady, fear didn’t have a seat at Joel's table. So, your morning kerfuffle was exactly that – a mere kerfuffle that ended with 3 dead and one spared with a worn-out map. She won’t make it far though. Not on her own.

You initially tried to kill her yourself. An opportunity that was seconds away when you were straddling her chest, your knife hovered above her sternum, promising a fatal strike but you were viciously flung off by Joel with a quick “We don’t kill women” as he returned to bludgeon some poor guy’s face. The woman however had survival rules of her own. Taught by the men she traveled with; her version of death didn’t discriminate.

She was quick to retrieve her blade you’d tossed moments ago. Before you knew it, she was on top of you faster than you could gather yourself. She now had the high ground, the advantage and with no one to stop her, she swung the sharp steel across your skin with purpose. She aimed for your neck, but thankfully you were faster, your reactions saved you and you were rewarded a swift cut to the collarbone instead. You had reached for her jaw, throwing her off balance as you shoved her face upwards. Joel had then come to your rescue, pulling her to the side by her neck before putting the fear of God into her.

It could’ve been worse for you, but a part of you was relieved as you didn’t have to encounter the grief that weighs on one’s soul when they take a life. You’ve never killed before, but that doesn’t mean you won't. You’ve accepted the fact that it’s only a matter of time, but it’s an event you’re not eager to attend.

As much as you reamed out Joel for letting her go, for letting you nearly die at her hands, you really only chastised to keep hearing his apologies in that low southern drawl. It was a record you could keep on replay for all eternity. Joel saying sorry? What a sound.

With a tender touch, you press against the damp blue material covering your wound. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but a bit had still seeped through. Joel had given you some gauze which clung to the wound tightly as the blood hardened, like a scab. You figure it’ll have to be changed soon.

You gaze out the window, appreciating the cool breeze whistling across your features. You can smell the soil underneath the green grass as the truck tires roll over them.

To your surprise Joel continues past the trees, into the forest itself. A sliver of anxiety burst in your chest.

“We’re not camping by the tree line?” You question as your eyes frantically scour each gap between the lush evergreen trees.

“Not safe enough” he barely utters to you as he himself scans the earthy environment. “Less chance for surprises deep in here”.

“Mmmkay …” you hum, feeling a wave of sadness as you realize watching golden hour wouldn’t be in the cards tonight. Nature in this area is overgrown, and rich. The trees are abundant, dense, and evade the sky above you.

With a light squeal, the truck comes to a halt, and when the engine dies you know this is home for the night.

You pull out of the passenger seat and groan as you stretch your body, raising your hands above your head.

“Today was a long one hey? How many hours were we on the road?” You question as you glance around your new surroundings.

“You should know, you’re the one who told me you were gunna start observin’ more” He raises a brow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he unlocked the tailgate. “Guess it’s hard t’ count when you’re nappin’ half the ride.”

“Okay let’s not get carried away there, I don’t plan on being on your level of analysis, Miller.” You smirk at him as you help him unload the sleeping bags and the worn-out Coleman’s barbeque.

With a thud of the bags against the ground he turns to you.

“What’d I say ‘bout usin’ my last name?” His brows are drawn tightly now. His brown eyes dark like char, focus on yours. He places one of his hands, palm side down against the body of the truck, the other gripping his hip.

You raise your own hands in surrender as he scoffs with a shake of his head but continues unpacking. It’s something you tend to poke and prod him with from time to time. But only from time to time. Well, in the short time that you’ve known him anyway.

For some reason, it really does tick Joel off when you say his surname but that’s precisely why you enjoy using it when he least expects it. Because if he knows it’s coming, he won’t let it slide and you’re left talking to yourself for the remainder of the day, sometimes two. So, you use it when you want to be momentarily scolded, but you say it as if it’s an accident. A habit not quite beaten out of the inner brat in you.

You hear him mumbling to himself again as he splays the sleeping bags out, readying the grill for whatever canned goods are left. Sounds something like “You’re gunna learn one f’ these days” but you pay no further attention as you skip to the driver’s side of the truck, leaning into the center console to grab the cheap lantern. You won’t need it yet, but darkness tends to creep in much faster when you’re in the woods. You want it close by as you’ve not been granted access to firearms. No matter how many times you’ve pleaded Joel, it wasn’t up for discussion. Therefore, you’re left with your trusty blade and ‘works half-of-the-time’ lantern.

Joel heats up two cans, one possessing creamed corn and the other, ravioli. You prefer corn, but you don’t miss the smile that briefly dances in Joel’s eyes when he gets to take the ravioli for himself. Another mental note you’ve made about Joel. He likes his Chef Boyardee.

As the night crawls on, Joel summons you over with a sharp whistle to the tailgate where he’s standing.

“Hey, c’mere,” he pats the hard plastic of the trunk.

“Joel, I just got comfy. I’m finally warm in my little cocoon,” you pause as you wait for his mercy. None was served as he snaps his middle finger against his thumb to you again, motioning the truck with his forefinger as he continues unzipping a little red bag with the other.

“Get over here,” he demands but not in a mean way, his voice was softer than before.

“You’re not the boss of me,” you whisper under your breath as you make your way over to him, shuffling the sleeping bag off your feet.

“Heard that,” he grunts.

“Good,” you chirp back as you stand next to him.

“Up” he says, once again motioning his forefinger upwards to the tailgate.

With a roll of your eyes, you turn your back to the truck and hoist your bottom from beneath you up onto the bench. You sit there quietly, swaying your legs while watching Joel prod through the medical bandages and wipes with his large fingers in that small, little bag. A ping of jealousy rises in your chest as you wished you could have his fingers explore your –

“Quit thinkin ’so loud,” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he tears open a small white package between his teeth. An action that makes you bite your bottom lip involuntarily.

It’s no secret you struggle around Joel. Maybe it’s the long-term effects of the apocalypse, causing so many to lose the common sense of touch with one another. Creating incredibly touch-starved individuals, especially you.

Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been properly touched by a man, and you think Joel would know how, you think of it far too often. Or maybe it’s simply because a man like Joel emits sexuality with his entire being. It’s like he releases a pheromone that makes those around him go feral for his manhood. At least that’s how you feel anyways.

Your eyes tend to linger longer than you’d like when you watch Joel grip his rifle, his strong hand cupping the neck of the gun. The way his fingers trace lightly on the trigger, teasing the bullet inside to erupt. The way he narrows his sight into the scope, his breath held before exhaling in the most sensual way. The way his broad shoulders rise and fall before he makes his kill. Hell, you could watch this man paint and still be in a pool of your own arousal.

Maybe it’s just because Joel is the most masculine man you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, becoming partners with, in the coworker sense of course. He possesses the knowledge, the experience, the determination, the patience, and strength… of survival. But you’ve always wondered if those same factors come into play when he likes to…play.

Joel has always noticed when you’re thinking, the way you zone out on his lips or his large fingers. Your eyelids become hooded as he watches the filthy gears turn inside your mind. It’s something you do without even realizing and he fucking loves it. It makes his heartbeat fonder; his ego grow bigger and without fail, each time, it makes his cock twitch in his jeans. Which is the final action that brings him back to reality to snap your dirty little naïve mind out of it.

He understands the effect he has on women, how they would stare at him back at the QZ. Crawl to him with need, begging to be put out of their misery. It’s a quality he doesn’t mind as it makes it easy to find release but when it comes to you, he scolds himself for ever letting his mind drift into those delicious, curious, devilish thoughts. Your innocence is a hidden treasure in this corrupt world, and Joel simply won’t corrupt that too.

He recognizes the way you stray close to him as if he's shelter. The way you look at him with wide eyes when he senses danger, how you shuffle so tight into him, because you know he’ll protect you. And he will. He quietly prides himself in being your gatekeeper. How you give him complete control over your life, a feeling he’s only ever had once before.

He pictures you as a small ornament made of thin glass. So precious, yet so fragile and it sits so nicely in his roughed up, deadly, deleterious hands. He could shatter it so easily. Let the pieces fall at his feet and walk away before the fear of failure seeps in, had he done that in the start, his feelings would be protected.

But the problem is, he’s gotten attached to his little ornament. Therefore, he’ll watch every move he makes, to be sure not to flinch and accidently crack it. He dreads the weight that comes with the stiffness of protecting you, how it makes his body and mind ache, but he knew. He knew the moment he took you out of the QZ and into the unknown, that he would ache till the day he takes his last breath. He made his choice that very night, that he's responsible for you. He just didn’t realize how much he would care. How much you’ve impacted him. How much of you has molded into him and the things he recognizes in you that you’ve gained from him. His little ornament, he vows to keep safe because the eternal hell that comes with defeat, he simply won’t go through again.

He stares down at you, looking at your eyes still trained on his mouth that has just ripped open the white plastic. He wondered if it reminded you of the memories that creeped into his. If you've ever seen one before. A type of rubber that used to sit in his wallet pre apocalypse when he travelled to seedy bars.

“Take your shirt off” You snap your eyes from his lips to meet his brown ones. They’re still dark from the “Miller” comment you made earlier but this time there’s a twinkle you can’t quite read.

“You, y- you want me to take it off?” You speak so softly but in such a needy way Joel has to forcefully repress the groan that’s stuck in his throat. Instead, he smirks at you.

“Need t’ see the cut”. You blush at his words, feeling silly for assuming he’d want anything otherwise. God you were so lost in your train of thoughts, you’d briefly forgotten what you were sitting here for.

Joel catches sight of your blush by the low light of the lantern sitting next to the med bag. He knows he can’t give into you, or let himself ponder on you for too long, but that doesn't mean he can’t have a little fun teasing you.

You grab the hem of your sweater, peeling it up and over your head, leaving you in your white tank top. One that had been stained from dirt and blood, but you’ve washed it in rivers in between travels. The stains never come out, no matter how hard you try.

You hear his breath hitch as you pluck the sweater off, bundling it to your side and it only fuels the ache in between your legs that much more.

You slip in and out of your trance, feeling so vulnerable yet powerful in the hands of Joel. Waiting for his next move. You watch his eyes examine your cut, as he chews on the inside on his cheek.

“S’not too bad, but could get infected, especially when we’re out here,” he explains, opening the wet cloth that was inside the package and before he brings it to your wound, he raises a finger lightly over your shoulder.

“Just... gunna move this out f’ the way” his voice velvet as he softly shifts your tank strap away from your wound to the edge of your shoulder, enough for it to fall down your arm on its own. The motion of it all raising a shiver up your tailbone. You then see his eyes grow heavy, his tongue dipping out to wet his bottom lip.

The touch of his calloused fingers against your skin, the way the strap falls from his grasp, how his eyes briefly drop to your chest before seeing the red blotches form across his neck, all these things have your buds growing hard against the fabric of your shirt.

You groan when he removes the old gauze and finally applies the alcohol-soaked cloth against your cut. The sting somehow adding to your arousal. You can’t help but let a small pornographic moan slip from your lips resulting in a hiss from Joel.

“Jesus” He mutters, more to himself than you. His other hand palms his crotch to briefly adjust the growing hard on beneath the zipper. He thought he was subtle in the dark, but you still saw, and it drove you wild.

His touch shocks you as his hand gently grips your neck, holding you still as he dabs your sore some more. You see the wrinkles forming on his forehead as he bends down, leaning in close to inspect the cut further. You could roll your eyes in pure ecstasy just from the way he has you in his grasp. The way his head is ducked down beneath yours, so closely to your chest, you can nearly feel his hot breath kissing your nipples.

You feel your dignity slipping away. You want nothing more than to submit to him, let him take what he wants. You’ve seen the signs, surely, he’s thought about it too.

His big thumb lightly caresses your sensitive skin as he focuses on wiping up the rest of the smeared mess that stained your collar bone. In between his shuffling, you spread your legs open some more, hoping he’ll come closer.

You peer down, watching his eyes flicker to yours, a warning resides within them. He knows what you’re doing, and he isn’t going to take bait. He’s in trouble enough as it is. You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress the guttural want inside you. But your mouth falls agape when his glare falls back to your neck, tracing slowly back to your wound before looking down lower to your breasts poking through your thin shirt. He inhales deeply through his nose, his eyes closing as if he’s praying for restraint. You hope none delivers.

In one motion, he regathers himself in such a Joel manner, you know he’s done playing. He tosses the crimson-stained wet fabric back into the red bag, zipping it up in such aggression you thought it might just break.

“Just keep it covered, should heal fine,” He orders, not once looking your way.

“Joel” you mewl to him, your hands having a mind of their own as they reach for his jacket.

“No” he says bluntly, his eyes on the med kit. He’s trying to be cold, but you can hear the quiver that laces his voice.

He tosses the bag further into the trunk, he jaws clenching so hard you think his teeth might shatter.

“Joel” you cry again softly, biting your lip. Your arousal is becoming unbearable, downright painful. At this point, you can care less about how pathetic you sound. You just need relief, but this time from him.

“I said no,” He growls, “It’s bedtime.”

Joel then, in one movement reaches one arm under yours, supporting your back and the other hand gripping your waist.

You clutch the collar of his jacket, panting feverishly, your heart racing from his touch. His head had leaned down close enough, you thought he might just kiss you.

But then you realize what's really happening as he picks you up off the tailgate and plants you on your feet to the ground. You don’t miss the way his hand lingers before letting you go.

“I’ve got first watch, get into your sleepin’ bag,” He commands as he picks up his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’m not tired” you whine, desperation seeping out of your pores.

“M’ don’t care, we have a long day tomorrow n’ you need rest, so get rested.” His voice is strained as his teeth grit at the end of his sentence. He putters around, putting the lantern next to your bag, closing the lid to the barbeque, not once looking in your direction.

And you know why. He’s trying to hide his desire from you, the evidence sticking out in his jeans. Trying to distract himself from the utter temptation that hangs in the air. Trying to be the good guy that is strictly business and most days his virtuous behavior warms you, but tonight it’s pissing you right off.

“I can’t sleep like this Joel, I, I- I’m uncomfortable” you whimper, your arms at your side as you admit defeat.

“That’s enough” he spits your name “M’ not saying it again.”

Your perk up when he turns, striding towards you but it’s quickly followed by a groan when he passes you to go to the truck. He grabs your sweater, before slamming up the tailgate with force. The sexual frustration radiant in his demeanor.

You watch him come closer; his knuckles white from gripping the fabric of your top. Your breath catches when you meet his eyes, his glare so intense you think you might become a meal, you hope you will.

He raises his fist to your chest; you look down at the blue material.

“Put this on, it’ll protect your wound. I’m checking the perimeters then I’ll be back” he says lowly, peering down at you without tilting his head. When he does this, it makes you feel incredibly small, more than you normally feel around him. Which you like. You frown at his back as he strides away, towards the trees.

“Joel, please” you whine again. “I – I need – “ Tears begin pricking at your eyes, you’ve never felt this needy in your life, and all you want is Joel. He’s the only one that can help.

He stands still, before turning his head to the side, his knee popping out in his stance. He stays that way for a moment before you hear him sigh loudly. He turns to face you, hand gripping his jaw as his eyes scans your figure, weeping in front of him.

“Sweetheart, I know what you need,” His nickname shocks and spurs you on all at the same time.

“Do what you need to do, I’m goin’ to do rounds, I’ll be back when you’re done okay?” His tone shifts from frustrated to understanding, his face somber but riddled with want. You glance down at his jeans, his bulge sticking out so loudly. You feel yourself start salivating.

“Can’t you do it Joel?” You mewl “Help me feel better?”

This time he groans, one so low and gravelly you think you might cum right there.

“Baby girl I can’t” his palm rests on his forehead before he runs his thick fingers through his salt and pepper locks.

“You know I can’t” His voice is getting rougher in between his pants. “I need you to crawl into bed and touch yourself, okay? I know you can do it” He points his index at your sleeping bag and with a sigh he walks off before you can say anything else.

And just like that he disappears into the darkness. You know he won’t stray far, but enough to grant you privacy. You groan to yourself, hoping it wasn’t going to end like this, but it is progress. You had touched yourself before, but always in secret. In worry Joel might get upset or confused, or worse - mad as to why you would need to relieve yourself around him. You always feared he’d find you weak or pathetic if he caught you, so you always waited until he was on patrol in the dark, or settled in his own room in whatever housing the two of you would find.

The fact that Joel now knows, and understands, and is urging you to, is incredibly sexy.

You grab the slippery material and bring it over, near to his that lay empty. You slid yourself in and with shaky hands, undo the buttons and zipper to your confining jeans before snaking your hand down to your soaked cotton panties. You sigh at the touch, savoring in the instant relief that comes with it.

With slow, messy circles, you rub the outside of your panties against your core as you think about Joel's strong hands lifting you off the tailgate. The way his chest was pressed against your breasts, the way his hands lingered on you. Your breathing quickens as you start rubbing circles harder and quicker, cupping your swollen clit. More tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes when you begin to think this isn’t going to work. Not when you know he’s around. Not when he’s the very reason you’re dripping down your thighs in the first place. Not when you need him.

In an act of desperation, you kick off your sneakers, toss them on the grass with two thuds and strip your jeans completely off. Your cocoon becomes so humid with the heat from your arousal that you end up crawling out of it before bunching it up enough to straddle the material, grinding against it. You whine as the friction brings more relief than your fingers as you start humping your sleep bag. The cool breeze against your dewy skin feels like a kiss from mother nature herself. You feel yourself grow closer to your climax as you begin to furiously hump more, your knees against the earth, your thighs spread wide. You know how ridiculous you must look, but you couldn’t give a shit. You need relief in order to have some clarity again.

Then you hear it. The unmistakable clink of his belt buckle coming undone. The teeth of his zipper groaning apart before he lowers his jeans. You listen as you slow your pace, riding the edge of your summit, teasing yourself. You hear him spit into the palm of his hand before you imagine him gripping his length. When he finally groans, you know he’s fisting himself.

You smirk and decide to have fun with this. As you stop your pace all together, you peel off your blue sweater once again, leaving you in the same white revealing tank top. You know he’s somewhere in the darkness behind you, but you aren’t sure if he knows you know, yet.

You hike your panties up higher, the band hugging your hips and exposing more of your plush cheeks spilling out from the cotton material. You hear him grunt again.

As you start grinding slowly, you snake one hand up to your chest and pinch your bud, rolling it between your two fingers, eliciting a moan from you.

“Fuck”

He’s getting louder, still muttering to himself as he watches you from behind a cedar tree. With his rifle still slung on his shoulder, he fists his cock, his other hand wide against the trunk to brace himself.

His eyes have gotten adjusted to the darkness, so when he returned quietly to the base you guys share, he saw you touching yourself in your sleeping bag underneath the moonlight.

He had debated on rubbing one out while checking the perimeters, but his mind wouldn’t let him. He knew he had to come back to you. He knew you would be relieving yourself like the good girl you are because you always listen to him, always do what you’re told.

But when he saw the frantic and frustrated way you slipped your pants off and bunched your bag to start humping, he knew he needed to watch. He needed to see the way you make yourself cum.

“Joel” You moan out as you continue your pace, your hips bouncing as you hump.

He groans again, his southern drawl slipping out like honey “Oh… fuck yeah baby girl, that’s it” You could hear his fist becoming more frantic against himself.

You decide to put on a show, grinding your hips in the most sensual way. Your pants getting breathier, your whines higher.

Joel was in a trance; he was fixated on you. Watching your every move, stroking himself to your pace. The view of your ass, the way your shirt slightly rises revealing the beautiful curve of your back, your hair swaying with your hips, you’re like a goddess in the woods. All he could picture was laying beneath you, letting you grind yourself on his mouth, tasting your juices, making you cum all over his face.

God, he wants you. He wants to show you he can be more than just your protector. He can help you, treat you so well, but he knows it would be so wrong. To some degree he’s taking advantage of you. You don’t know any better, not when you’re overwhelmed with all these kinds of needs. Hell, he’s overwhelmed himself but he’s also a lot older than you. He knows how to suppress it, how to will the feelings away and concentrate. But you, you’re not experienced. You need to make yourself cum in order to feel sane again. Once you’re this far deep into lust, it’s primal. It’s a need, not a want. He can’t blame you for caving into your desires yet him on the other hand, he’ll be held accountable by the devil himself.

But if there was ever a time where Joel was losing control with the fine line between right and wrong, it was now.

He continues his strokes, obsessing over how naughty you really are. He’s never seen you like this before. “C’mon baby, you can do it” He whispers.

You couldn’t stop yourself from what happened next.

“Joel?” You call out softly. All sounds cease.

“Yea?” He finally responds, after a long, quiet pause.

“Please” You beg “Please I need you.”

You curse yourself as you hear him zipping himself back up, suddenly feeling embarrassed as you’re still sitting in the state you are.

You peek over your shoulder to see him approaching you, buckling his belt. His jaw ticking as he stares at your ass. His bulge seems to be growing bigger.

You prepare for the worst. For him to cuss you out or tell you that you missed your chance. Had you left it alone, the two of you would have finished and he would have returned a little later to make it seem as if he wasn’t there at all.

But you just couldn’t do that, could you?

“Get in the truck”. He growls, his boots drowning in the material of your sleeping bag. You look up at him, to him looking down at you. You couldn’t make out his face as the light of the moon is directly behind him.

“W-Why... a a-are we leaving?” You whisper, suddenly afraid you royally fucked up.

“Are you talkin’ back to me?” His voice is sharp. Deep. Serious. Unreadable.

You shook your head as submission rolls over you effortlessly. He hikes his jeans by pinching the denim near his crotch before squatting down to your level. His breath right next to your ear. You stare forward into the darkness as goosebumps rise all over your skin. You feel so vulnerable with Joel right behind you but just as excited. You flinch as soon as he speaks.

“If you want my help, then do what I say” he says in a low rumble. You pause, holding your breath.

“Think you can manage that?” He questions, his tone unrecognizable as he turns his head to inhale the scent of your hair. You shiver, nodding once more. Your heart rate picks up speed, thudding loudly.

“Then, get up and get in the truck.” He orders you slowly. Almost as if he’s trying to stop the words from coming out.

Your eyes widen at his demand, a jolt of electricity soaring through your chest straight to your abdomen. With a careful shuffle, you stand on your feet and start towards the truck.

In any other scenario, this feeling would make you shrink. It’s the way you can feel his eyes on you, the thud of his boots echoing behind your naked ones in the grass. But you love every second of it. You feel your confidence flourishing as you realize he needs this just as much as you do. If not more. You begin to walk straighter, hips swaying wider, a pep in your step as you feel the power shift ever so slightly into your control.

“Someone’s gettin’ cocky” Joel states behind you. His palm gripping his crotch as he watches you.

“I sure hope I get some” You grin to yourself, feeling proud at your remark.

Joel stops in his steps; he can’t believe your dirty mouth. Sure, you’ve been foul around him before, but never sexually and the very fact ignites something dark within him. He proceeds forward, eyeing you down as you wait near the truck with that shit-eating grin on your face.

She’s in for it now.

“You think you’re funny?” He questions while approaching you. His large frame nearly swallowing you whole.

“Uh huh and I think you love it” You retort in your most sultry tone. The words hit him like a freight train, his cock bobbing in his jeans.

With a tut he leans into you “So ya’ think y’can toy with me?”

You can’t repress it, you’re beaming. You like the way Joel challenges you.

“I think it’d be better if I was yours, Miller” You reach out to grip his cock through his jeans.

He separates instantly, his face loss of all expression. The muscle in his jaw flexes as his eyes lock on yours.

“I think your attitude needs fucking fixin’” Your jaw drops at his profanity. Joel never speaks like this.

“You say that name one more time and so god help me,” He scowls “acting like a fuckin’ brat, tryin’ to rile me up” His eyes now black.

“Think that’ll end well f’ ya?” He questions, one brow raised.

You swallow, unsure if you took it too far.

“Well, you’re lucky, cus’ I enjoy turning brats into good girls... s’ you ready to learn some manners?” He mocks as he grips your mouth, which was still gaping.

“Start with closing that up until I say so, s’not lady like.” He pushes your chin up, your jaw closes with a click of your teeth.

You scoff in disbelief, pulling your chin out of his hand yet you’re incredibly turned on. You watch him in curiosity as he opens the passenger door for you, his face now as hard as his cock. You wait, wanting to test his patience just a little.

You see his chest heave; his teeth grind together before he grips the door harder.

“Guess there won’t be any lessons tonight after all...real shame too, was gunna make that pretty pussy cream all over me” He shrugs, about to close the door.

“No! I’m sorry Joel, I’m going!” You jump into the seat with such speed it makes Joel smirk, but his jaw goes slack the second he sees the wet spot that had formed on your cotton panties as you crawl in.

He groans at the sight. But if he was going to stay true to his vows, you’d have to keep your panties on or else he may damn himself beyond saving. He only has so much self control.

You rub your thighs together in anticipation as you watch him slowly stride his way to the other side of the truck. Your breath quickens as his door swings open; your fingers shake with sheer excitement.

He starts unzipping his camel-colored jacket before shuffling in. With a toss, his jacket lands in the back seat as he closes the door with a thud.

You listen to him groan softly as he settles into the seat, before reaching down between his legs to pull on the bar to slide the chair back as far as it can go. You find yourself already scrambling onto your knees.

“Needy girl” he tuts “already so excited f’ me”. He locks eyes with you, a mischievous smile grows across his face as he takes his time positioning his legs.

He then reaches to the side of the seat to lean the backrest down, but not too far. This allows him to manspread while he rests his aching broad back at the same time.

With a deep inhale through his nostrils, he looks at you with now hooded eyes.

“Need you to listen closely now” His raises one index in the air. “I’m gunna help you alright?”

You whimper a “Mhm!”

“But there are rules. Rules you need to follow.” You roll your eyes at his comment, which is returned with a scowl across his face. You mouth a brief ‘sorry’ before motioning him to continue, your desires reaching a boiling point.

“You’re not takin’ anything off and you’re not touchin’ me anywhere unless I allow it” He glares sternly.

“Yes, okay Joel” you usher, wanting to be in his touch before he changes his mind.

“Shouldn’t even be doing this, but I understand you’re having a hard time. Fuck, the state of our lives I can’t imagine the stress you feel, especially when you’re so young”. You squeeze your thighs, clenching around nothing as you wish he would get off the foreseeable guilt train.

“So that’s why I’m going to help you, understand?”

You nod furiously.

“Repeat it” He spits.

“I understand” You reply obediently.

With a quiet pause, Joel scans your features, his eyes trailing your desperate figure.

“C’mere” He pats his thigh with his large, calloused hand.

You obey, slowly crawling over to straddle his lap.

“Mmm” His chest rumbles. “She does listen”.

His eyes are closed as you position yourself over one thick denim covered thigh, your right knee brushing up against his crotch. He hisses at the touch, letting his head fall back into the headrest.

You raise your hands to rest at the nape of his neck, suddenly feeling sheepish as you’re not sure exactly what to do. You bite your lip, too nervous to start. You realize just how exposed you feel when you're up to him this closely.

He opens his eyes to meet yours, sighing at how beautiful you look when you’re aching but more so at the fact that you’re visually embarrassed, and he loves it.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now. You were acting all brave just minutes ago.” He coos.

You blush at his words, starting to feel silly. But you need him to encourage you. You like it.

He swiftly smacks your ass and bounces his knee once – motioning you to get going.

“Joel” You whisper at the infliction, lowering your head to rest in his neck, repositioning yourself against him, closer. Just the contact of your hot core on him, makes your arousal pain even more. And the way he smells, you tuck your nose further in, inhaling the scent of his earthy musk, is intoxicating.

“C’mon baby girl. You can do it, I got you” He finally raises his hands from his sides to grip your hips as his own roll up into you, you follow once with yours. “You need to cum, so you can sleep tonight, trust me I know”. You begin to slowly roll your hips, falling right back into the state of pleasure.

“J-just like that sweetheart, keep going”. His voice becomes raspy.

You hang off his words as you start grinding, moaning at his fingertips digging deeper into your soft skin. Your buds harden at the friction of your wet clothed cunt being rubbed against his jeans. You can’t believe this, the fact that Joel himself is sat beneath you, cooing you to finish yourself off on him.

Your pants become whines as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten with each hump against him.

“That’s it, good girl. You’re gunna make a mess on me aren't ya?” He growls as he stares at your lips. Your cheeks burn at his comment. The embarrassment seeping back into you. You can hardly look at him.

“You keep those eyes on me sweetheart”. He orders, one hand pinching your chin, forcing you to see him, you still look anywhere but.

He can read you like an open book. He see’s right through you. Hell, most of the time he can predict the things you’ll say. He knows you just need some encouragement, some reassurance that it’s okay to be nervous but that you can trust him.

He ceases, waiting for those wide doe eyes to meet his and when they do, he can’t help but grin.

“Why?” You begin to question.

“Tell me you want this” he whispers, the words hang in the silence.

“I want this.” You grip the back of his neck tighter. “I just feel… dumb. I’m not sure how to do this”. You mumble.

“Sure y’ do” his words surprise you and when you look at him, the confusion is clear on your face.

“I just watched you do it when you were all by yourself, humping your bag, tryin’ to make that ache go away” He murmurs as one of his hands brush a stray hair behind your ear. You shudder at the touch.

“That’s all you have to do with me sweetheart, just use my thigh and make yourself feel good”. He urges you as he begins motioning your hips once more, you watch his face as you take over, following the sensation as it builds again.

“There y’ go, nothing to be shy ‘bout pretty girl, y’ just need my help ain’t that right?”

You bob your head yes as your pace begins to quicken.

“That’s my sweet girl, take what you need, s’ just the two of us” He coos as he helps you continue grinding.

You throw your head back at his praise, which Joel saw as his opportunity to fist your hair and hold you bare for him as he trails your neck with wet kisses. A risky move, but he tells himself it’s only to help you. And fuck does it ever spur you on.

His teeth graze against your sensitive flesh and your grinding becomes rougher, more desperate. Your whines turn to moans as you feel your cunt drip through the fabric, your climax just strokes away.

“Stop” He orders, and you do.

Did you do something wrong?

He releases your hair slowly, inhaling deeply through his nose, his jaw ticking once more. He looks down at his lap, admiring your white panties.

“Slide back” He mumbles as he pushes your hips. “I need t’ see”. You ease back, your mind drunk off his sudden dominance.

With a moan, he stares at your clothed pussy, admiring the wet slick between your folds. Your pussy lips so swollen, he could see it throb. He breaks away looking up, closing his eyes as if he’s trying to compose himself. Not a second later, he looks back at you again, back to your pooling core, his jaw goes slack as you already seem wetter, your damp stain somehow bigger.

“Look at that.” He gently inches your thighs apart with his massive hands, causing you to throb more.

“You see what you’re doin’ pretty girl?” His southern drawl spurs on another wave of ecstasy to rush through you as you watch his reaction.

He fists your hair once more, turning your head down to face his lap, you yelp in surprise but not because it hurts.

“Look”. He roughly pulls your head in place to view the dark, wet spot you’re making on his jeans.

“Have you been walkin’ around all wet in your panties this whole time?” he cranes his neck to meet your gaze as you look at the mess you’ve caused, mouth agape. His face hardens when he sees yours.

“What I’d fuckin’ say about hanging your mouth open like a whore?” he growls as he squeezes your chin and cheeks with his free hand.

He holds you like that for a beat, one hand twisted in your hair, the other gripping your face restraining you from any movement. You gasp loudly when your cheeks are released from his tight hold, yet your hair is still intertwined in his fist as he forces you to look at your arousal again.

“That tight pussy droolin’ for me?” He questions sharply.

You finally murmur a yes while clenching your mouth shut as you blink slowly, drunk off being edged for so long.

“Yeah, I thought so” he says raggedly as if he’s been waiting for that very response. He lets you free as you lean back wanting to display yourself more. He sighs contentedly at the sight.

It’s become clear to you why Joel was so adamant about staying away. He’s primal in nature, but you had no idea he was this feral in lust. You smirk as you feel you’ve uncovered his dirty secret, his hidden persona. It makes you wonder how long he’s wanted you like this. If he was afraid of you seeing this side of him. And for some reason, that only makes you want him that much more.

“Touch yourself for me, just a little rub.” He rests further back against the seat, watching you and those dirty gears running at an all time high.

You comply, running your hand down his chest as you snake your fingers against the white wet cotton, rubbing slow circles over your clit, moaning at the sensation.

“Good girl” He praises. You can feel your wetness pooling through your panties as you continue rubbing yourself, your orgasm dangerously close. Your mouth drops again forming an “O” which elicits another groan from Joel as he watches you. “Yea, that’s the only time you’re allowed to look like that” He growls.

“I’m – I’m close Joel” You pant as he stares you down.

“That’s enough” You whine when he grabs your hand away from your core, bringing your fingers up to his face.

“Yea, I fuckin’ knew it” He groans, inhaling your fingers deeply, eyes closed. “I know you’re dripping in your little panties when I smell this scent off you” He smears your fingers roughly around his mouth and nose, still breathing you in. You watch in awe, the way he’s completely consumed by you.

“Hard t’ focus when you’re parading that little ass around me, reeking like this, just beggin’ to be filled up, you rub yourself like this around me at night?” He asks, voice hoarse.

Your cheeks burn again, but you nod once anyhow.

“My dirty, dirty girl. You’re just full of secrets, aren't yah”. He pants. “Fuckin’ knew you were wanting my cock. You just needed someone to make that ache go away, huh?”

You whine as you nod more, feeling so heard, so seen. “Yes Joel, yes” All you want is to feel him fill you up. Hit that spot that you can’t ever reach. You succumb to him, hoping he might just fuck you and you won’t have to get off like this. You want all of him. To discover more of who Joel is. Help him, just like he’s helping you.

“And you’re still treating me so good, listenin’ to what I say, even when I’ve been neglecting my poor baby” He drawls lazily as he pulls you back into place, and with another bounce of his knee, you resume your vicious pace chasing your orgasm. The way your perky breasts jiggle in your tank causing him to bounce his knee more, absorbing the view of you bobbing up and down with tears welling in your eyes.

You reach one hand down, to grip his hard on, wanting to feel his thickness again, hoping he might let you see it.

“No.” His hand wraps around your wrist in an instance. A grip so cruel, you swear there’ll be bruises when he lets go.

“Why not?” You cry, your hips still rolling.

“Boundaries, sweetheart. You can’t touch me there.” He smirks devilishly. He knows this is torture for you.

You whimper, your eyes falling to his lips. You want to make contact with those the most.

“Knock it off. I see the way you’re starin’. You’re not kissin’ me either.” His smile is now gone, yet his eyes sparkle. You swear he’s getting off by restricting your contact with him. He knows how badly you want it.

You rest your hands tightly around his neck again, the disappointment visible on your features.

“Don’t look at me like that, fuck, you have no idea what you do to me”.

You pout more, relishing in the way he’s weakening for you.

“Tell you what” he drawls, slowing your pace. His fingers at some point had slipped into the band of your panties as he held your hips.

“Because you’ve been such a good girl f’me , I’ll let you kiss here” He raises an index to his scruffy cheek “And here” as he points to the other side.

You can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you lean forward gently, placing a soft, agonizingly slow, peck to cheek, your nose brushing lightly against his skin. You test his limits as you get close to his lips as you make your way to the other side. You swear you feel him inch forward ever so slightly before falling back.

“God, you’re just a sweet lil thang aren’t yah” he groans at your light, edging touches.

You pull back, feeling powerful at just how wrecked he looks. You bite your lower lip, continuing slow rolls.

You decide to do it again.

“Oh fuck, baby that’s enough” He moans as you place yet another teasingly slow kiss to his cheek, but close to the edge of his lips. He pulls his face away, turning to the side. He’s completely fucked out. His eyes heavy with pure want. God and this is just from kissing him.

Then something snaps in him as he grips your ass and makes you rub on him harder and lets your knee make more contact with his bulge.

“Yeah – yeah that feels really good” You mewl.

He turns his face back to yours, staring you down. His grip is getting harder, almost painful but you don’t care.

“Keep going” He rasps. “Don’t stop, I know you’re close.”

“Uh huh” You moan “You’re gunna make me cum Da- J- Joel” Your eyes widen at the fact you almost slipped, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

His eyes go dark as he clutches your ass tighter, leaning his face into yours.

“What was that sweetheart?” He whispers with his teeth grit, his nose grazing the side of your cheek.

You whine as he helps you continue your pace, pushing you back and forth on his thigh.

His hand snakes up, gripping your cheeks between his thumb and index. “You fuckin’ answer me when ‘m talking to you” He spits lowly.

“It feels really good!” You squeal as he starts to slow your rhythm.

“What else?”

Your hooded eyes connect with his, your cheeky grin making his cock twitch more.

“Tell me” He orders.

You pull yourself into his neck before whimpering into his ear.

“It feels good … Daddy”.

His groan is guttural as he squeezes your ass cheeks together.

“My dirty girl, you need your Daddy to help you huh?” He pulls you closer, your knee making full contact against his throbbing cock.

You nod your head furiously as your brows knit, you know you’re about to cum.

“Tell me why I’m your Daddy” he orders, his brows rising and falling.

You start to babble “Because you protect me” you barely get the words out, you’re so wrecked.

“I do, don’t I?” His voice drops an octave, while analyzing your face.

“And you’d kill for me” you moan.

“I have,” He pulls you down hard into him and holds you there, while grinding his crotch into you. “Killed for you”.

His eyes scour you frantically. Like there is so much he wants to do with you. Endless thoughts running through his mind of all the ways he could ruin you.

“Take your fuckin’ shirt off” he says rushed, as if this moment could get ripped away from him.

You obey, reaching the hem, and pulling it off in one swift motion. You toss it behind you onto the dash.

“That’s right” He spanks your ass hard.

“Go” He grits, and you grind down, your tits bouncing just inches from his face. He moves his hands off you and puts them down at his sides. As if to physically restrain himself from touching you.

“Fucking perfect, like a god damn picture” he watches your breasts as you’re nearing your climax again.

“M’ can’t let anyone hurt my special girl.” His expression turns hard as he feels his possessive side creep up. The men he murdered this morning were an exact representation of what he’ll do for you. Without question. He knew he was going to feel the blade sink in their flesh the second one laid eyes on you, the intention loud in his irises.

“I never wanna be apart from you Joel, you make me feel safe” Your confession comes out before you can stop it.

“I know baby, I know but fuck I love to hear it” He could listen to your sweet voice all day.

“Take your pants off, please” You beg but it sounds more like a squeal.

“No” He barely whispers.

“Please, Daddy please please, I wanna cum on you, it hurts!” You cry.

“Jesus Christ” His hands go to his belt, anxiously unbuckling, as you continue to mewl hovering above him.

“Always so fuckin’ needy” He pulls his jeans down his thighs before grabbing you and pulling you down aggressively onto him, his boxers the only thing confining his cock. "That's all you get" He spits.

“Wait” You reposition yourself, now straddling his lap. One knee on either side of his hips as you grind your wet, hot clothed cunt onto his massive, throbbing cock.

The moan that comes out of you is straight pornographic.

You suddenly lurch forward, before realizing he reclined the seat back further, almost laying flat.

“Put those fuckin’ tits on my face baby” He commands desperately.

You place your knees higher up on the cushioned seat. You pull yourself upwards to smother his face with your breasts. Joel's rough hands are still by his sides, he knows he’ll lose all sense of control if he gets any closer. No, it has to be your move.

“Yeah, Yeah, Joel please” You moan as he begins to softly kiss your breasts.

“You need more baby?” He gasps, his voice strained with want.

“Tell Daddy y’ need more, you need more help, I have to help” He consoles himself as he begins to suckle your buds, licking long strips wherever he can. It’s animalistic. You run your fingers through his salt and pepper locks as you essentially motorboat his face.

“You’re my special girl” He spills in a drawl. “Never gunna let anyone touch you.”

You can’t wait any longer, you sit back down on his bulge, wishing it was freed to split you in half but this will have to do. So, you grind, hunting your orgasm down once again, absorbing, engraining this picture of Joel in your mind forever.

And fuck, the way he talks to you, you’re lost in a trance, chasing after your high as you stare into his face. His eyes, his smile lines, the scar across his bridge, the way he looks down at his lap as he watches you, his jaw going slack. He’s perfect.

“Fuck I can smell you baby girl, your sweet pussy is beggin’ to come all over me” He growls “C’mon give it to me”. You take his permission and allow yourself to play on that teetering edge, right on the cusp of your much awaited orgasm.

“S’ okay baby girl, I got you, I got you”. He slumps back further, eyes trained on your clothed pussy grinding on his hard on with such desperation. He feels his own coming on as you rub against him.

“Not such a brat now huh? Not when I’m taking care of you” he says as his tired eyes scan your figure. You cry out at his words.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, S’ gunna feel better baby, gunna make that ache go away” He drawls out.

“Fuck, fuck” He mumbles, his eyes so hooded, you could have thought they were closed. All color drains from his face as he continues watching your motions. He can see wet, shiny strings appear from your panties, catching onto his boxers before they break apart from sliding back and forth. He can feel how absolutely soaked you are, that spot seeping through the fabric onto his skin underneath.

“That’s it pretty girl, right on daddy’s cock, right there”. His words fall out.

“I’m cum-I’m cumm-Daddy- oh yeah, Joel, Joel!” You scream.

You squeal as your orgasm comes rippling through, your thighs tightening around him as he feels your cunt pool through your panties all over him, your mouth hangs open as you ride out the waves of sensation.

“Jesus Christ”. He groans at the sight of you.

You rest your head against his heaving chest, riding out the stars that clouded your head.

The two of you sit there for a moment, collecting your breaths before he nudges you to the side.

“Wait here” he mumbles, exiting the truck. You watch him through the rear window, straining your eyes to see him in the dark. You think you see him readjusting his crotch again before he leans down, grabbing both sleeping bags and the lantern.

You’re still dizzy from finishing on Joel's lap, your mind trying to comprehend what had just happened. You never thought you’d see the day where Joel would touch you or look at you in any way other than ‘Cargo’.

The breeze from outside whirls into the truck as you sit there waiting for him. He opens the back door, laying down the sleeping bags on top of one another across the bench.

“What’re you doing?” You murmur, cupping the back seat with your hands, watching him with sleepy eyes.

“Don’t want you sleepin' outside tonight” He responds, glancing at your tired gaze.

“C’mon” He waves you over. You scootch over to the driver seat and let your legs dangle out the door. He meets you there, one of his massive hands held out to grab yours, helping you to your feet and pulling you in front of him, guiding you to the back door. You let go of his touch to crawl to your revised sleeping quarters.

You slip in between the two bags, which Joel had unzipped. Laying one down, the other as a blanket on top. He also folded up his jacket as a pillow, which made you smile. You watch him tuck the fabric under your feet, making sure all parts of you are covered. He finds your jeans and your shirt and puts them aside for when you’d dress in the morning. Your sneakers on the ground beside the truck.

You can’t stop the warm glow growing inside you as you watch this man take care of you in such a way that seems so… domestic. It makes you wonder about him pre break out, and what he was like living in a house, working an 8-5 job, making dinners and probably having cold ones in the evening on a patio.

He closes the driver door before returning to you.

“Are you coming to bed?” You whisper with heavy eyes.

“No” he chuckles lightly “M’ wide awake now, gunna keep watch, we really do have a long day tomorrow so get some sleep alright?” He looks at you as one of his arms draped over the heavy truck door, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He looks proud, which you would roll your eyes at, but you’re far too tired.

“Joel” You whisper, bringing his attention back to you as he was looking over his shoulder, scanning the night.

“Mhm?”

“I still wanna repay the favor y’know” you mumble, your eyes closed, already drifting off.

He chuckles again; the sound brings a grin to your face.

“Not necessary, couldn’t stop myself from cumin' while watching you”. He sighs heavily, muttering to himself “like a goddamn teenager”.

You giggle at the comment. Which Joel couldn’t help but grin too, you didn’t see though.

“Goodnight Miller” You barely hear the words yourself as you fall into a deep slumber.

“Night sweetheart”.

#joel miller #tlof #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #reader x joel miller #the last of us #the two of us #daddy joel #pedro pascal #pedro is daddy

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bonefall · 19 days

Text

Clear Sky Killed Bumble; Gray Wing's Desperate Defense

The "analysis" I've seen out there is beyond bananas. We are out there on state-of-the-art exploratory vessels, sailing the 7 seas into brand new lands, discovering new kinds of fruits to compare to the absolute lack of sanity people are displaying.

Clear Sky definitively killed Bumble. Gray Wing does not want to believe reality.

While some try to argue this death down to "negligent homicide," that Clear Sky essentially beat her unconscious and left her in an unsafe area where she got killed, that's so unlikely I'm confident in saying it's wrong. The evidence shows that Clear Sky tormented her to death with a ferocious, sadistic beating which caused her to bleed out, which is second degree murder, and used the smell of a fox and Gray Wing's blind adoration to lie his way out of consequences.

There's not a lot of ambiguity in the evidence that is presented. There is fox scent but no fox bites, and the preceding chapter provides a comparison between the wounds on Misty vs the wounds on Bumble. Clear Sky's story is so convoluted that not a single part of it makes any sense. Quite frankly it's only been topped recently by the "I can confirm this woman is evil because she snored her evil plans in their sleep" fib of ASC.

In either case, Gray Wing believes neither. He does not believe this is Clear Sky's kill in any way.

This moment is an excellent example of how Gray Wing continuously prevents anyone from taking any action against his dear brother's violence until it is too late. By convincing the moor cats to all calm down when they're rightfully furious, and treating the lives and perspectives of native cats as lesser, Gray Wing becomes complicit in some of the harm this tyrant manages to carry out.

To shield a person from the consequences of their own actions is enabling, regardless of if it's direct or indirect, wittingly or unwittingly.

We are going to go over the whole of the 26th chapter of DOTC Book 2: Thunder Rising, from Bumble's death scene to Gray Wing's downplay of it. A meticulous, step-by-step analysis.

Leading-up context

The Scene

The Immediate Response

Incredible suggestions that have been made that I had to read with my own eyes

Leading-up Context

Let's start from square one by introducing the cast, with the assumption you have not read DOTC or are just vaguely aware of it due to its reputation.

Bumble is a kittypet who regularly visits the woods without issue. She is a small supporting character in the first book, The Sun Trail, whose purpose is mostly to be a friend to Turtle Tail, who is the future wife of the main POV character, Gray Wing.

As the two girls become closer friends, Gray Wing becomes more controlling of Turtle Tail and more hostile towards Bumble. This culminates in Turtle Tail leaving "The Settlers" to live with her friend over the winter. All is idyllic until the humans adopt a third cat, known to the fandom as Tom the Wifebeater because of what happens next in Book 2; Thunder Rising.

Turtle Tail becomes pregnant, but notices that her roommates are keeping some kind of secret. She begs Bumble until she reveals that humans tend to take kittens away when they're old enough to be weaned. Turtle Tail leaves to return to the wild, and Tom the Wifebeater begins methodically torturing Bumble over the next month as punishment, leaving scratches, bruises, and "dried blood" all over her when the humans are not looking.

When Bumble tries to seek help from the moor cats, Gray Wing is frustrated that the battered woman has interrupted his walk with his new wife. It is stressed that Gray Wing hates her for taking his love interest away, and he believes she is too fat and clumsy to live in the wild. The leader of the moor cat settlers, Tall Shadow, has a hard time throwing Bumble out, until two outsiders, Wind and Gorse, who are trying to get accepted into this group themselves, take the initiative and drag Bumble back to her domestic abuser.

Gray Wing is biased against Bumble. This is a fact. He explicitly does not like her.

Shortly afterwards, the forest cat settlers, led by Gray Wing's brother Clear Sky, experience a fire and begin to expand their borders. They are already known as a violent group, their leader is a manipulative liar, and Gray Wing himself was once viciously mauled as Clear Sky sat by and watched.

Yes, Gray Wing is aware that Clear Sky sat there and watched, too. He called out to him and Clear Sky did nothing as Fox, a man who knew full well that this cat was his leader's brother, was shredding him.

Gray Wing doesn't want to believe his brother is a bad person. This is also a fact. He explicitly feels guilty when he has thoughts otherwise.

On-screen, through the POV of Gray Wing's nephew Thunder, we see a native woman named Misty slaughtered by Clear Sky for her land. Her children are taken, and her body lays unburied and rotting for two days before Wind Runner and Gorse Fur (sporting new names at the request of the moor cats) find her.

They describe the wounds they found on the corpse in detail and make an accusation,

Now, before this point, Wind Runner and Gorse Fur have been doing everything in their power to endear themselves to this group. Gray Wing himself trusted them, because they've taught him methods for living here, caught and shared food, and even saved the life of his other brother, Jagged Peak, when a burrow collapsed on him.

But now his xenophobia towards them is coming back-- because they're calling for action against his brother. He's only ever uneasy about them when they seem to have an ounce of influence over his group.

Turtle Tail's conclusion is completely sound, and if it hadn't been for someone else, would be correct. Clear Sky DID move to kill the children-- he was stopped by his underling, Petal. Turts was able to understand what Clear Sky was going to do without seeing it firsthand.

The crowd is shocked and furious, for logical reason. They ARE in danger. Clear Sky IS escalating his violence and expanding his territory. It's starting with the native population, and the moor cats are able to understand and predict what will happen next.

Except Gray Wing.

The Scene

While investigating ONE confirmed murder, as there is no reason to doubt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur except for conveniently xenophobic ones, and TWO suspected murders of children, the patrol hears the sudden shriek of a cat in pain.

Bumble is found bleeding to death on a previously unclaimed patch of land, at the very center of a circle of trampled grass. There is the reeking smell of fox, and under that, there is the scent of Clear Sky.

Her wounds are described in great detail,

Completely consistent with the way that the wounds were described on Misty. Nearly word-for-word.

The only evidence of fox is the smell. No one heard it bark, there is no note of it bounding off, there are no bites or wounds consistent with those of a canid. They were described exactly the same as Misty's.

Slits are cat claw wounds. Not fox bite wounds. She was not being bitten, she was cut all over her body, prominently down her belly and sides.

Unless this fox shapeshifted into a cat and then meticulously created wounds consistent with the ones left on Misty, Clear Sky did this.

Where did the fox go? Probably came to investigate, maybe licked at the bloody cuts expecting a meal, and then was scared off by Bumble suddenly waking up and screaming. It's possible, but unlikely that the patrol's clamor scared it off, considering they didn't see or hear any fox noises.

There are also signs of a struggle-- and Bumble was not able to fight in the condition she is currently in. It's most likely it was the struggle from when she was being tormented and trying to get away, unless there was a fight with a fox while Bumble was still unconscious and she was dragged to the middle of it, for some reason.

However, a fight with a fox is still unlikely, as the patrol was able to hear the whimpering of a cat in pain as they approached but not the furious sounds of a battle with a large predator. If there was this whole epic brawl with a fox that trampled the grass around Bumble, why was there only a single shriek?

Gray Wing, expert on the smell of Clear Sky's armpit, confirms it's his brother. His whole world spins when he realizes his Dear Brother is involved in this, feeling horror and disbelief.

(Also note that Gray Wing implies Clear Sky's involvement is the prophetic bad thing his adopted son mentioned in the previous chapter, not the shredded woman dying in front of him lol)

The rest of the group is able to acknowledge reality, coming to the obvious conclusion. Clear Sky is expanding his territory, including the very patch they're standing on. He has been violent in the past, even against other settlers. Misty was slaughtered in a way consistent with the victim dying in front of them, so he is killing cats who stand in his way. Gray Wing's immediate, literally DESPERATE response is first to jump to Clear Sky's defense.

Gray Wing asks Bumble directly if it was a fox, and she is too weak to answer... until she finds the strength, as a domestic abuse victim, to blame herself for the way a cat beat her bloody. She thinks it's her fault for hunting here, because she was hungry, not thinking straight, and stupid.

I have seen this described as Bumble "making a defense of Clear Sky." I will leave it up to you, the reader, to determine if this sounds like Bumble is trying to say he's not guilty of hurting her or if it's the sort of infamous self-blame that domestic violence victims lapse into after a furious thrashing.

When Clear Sky returns to the scene of the crime, he cuts her off while admitting he did assault Bumble, then glares at everyone to challenge a fight.

Gray Wing swoons over him like he always does.

I have heard it said, without examples, that this is normal because this happens all the time in Warrior Cats. That it's a normal thing to be standing next to a domestic abuse victim who is bleeding out and watch her murderer daring all of your friends to do something about it, and admire how brave he is. That, again, without any examples, this is just something that every character does when the Villain of the Week exists in front of them, so it's not even special that it was Gray Wing's first response.

If you believe that, I have a bridge in London to sell you.

Desperation is under all of Gray Wing's feelings which immediately follow. His voice "cracks" when he has to ask if his darling brother did this. He wants to scream when he takes his sweet time answering. He shrinks under Clear Sky's gaze, because he reads that he's "accusing him of betrayal."

But somehow, that FIRST response for him to fawn over his brother is not part of that, because in unquoted books of other arcs a hero has admired a villain?? Context doesn't exist because in some other book the same emotion was described maybe. Incredible.

No mention of how casually he brushes off this sight that makes his eyes show "guilt and horror," either. No talk of how he made a little ""joke"" about how no one greeted him nicely at a tortured woman's deathbed. Almost like he was caught red-handed and the wounds don't actually unsettle him as much as the crowd's reaction.

Even the glare-- Clear Sky is trying to get Gray Wing to do his bidding. He wants him to protect him, be his flying monkey, and control his furious people.

So at the next opportunity, Gray Wing jumps to his defense again. Second time in this exchange.

FIRST he was described as "desperate." Now he takes a deep breath and BRAVELY licks that boot.

Turtle Tail steps forward and posits the obvious truth. Clear Sky is going mad with power, doesn't care who he hurts, and is completely capable of doing something like this to Bumble. This was already done to Misty, and even earlier, Clear Sky stood by and watched as one of his minions savaged Gray Wing in a similar way.

The whoooole crowd can see this. It is Gray Wing, and Gray Wing alone, who prevents there from being any consequences for Clear Sky's actions.

He hypocritically believes that attacking Clear Sky for the murder of Bumble would make them all "no better than he is" when he had no qualms about coming to blows over the exile of Jagged Peak much earlier. "Attacking Clear Sky for Murder" is morally equivalent to "Actually Doing Murder."

This is only for Bumble though, a "foreign" woman he does not like. He did not believe this for Jagged Peak, and he will not believe it later when he watches Clear Sky strangle Rainswept Flower to death. They are worth physical consequences.

He even physically shields him.

"he stepped between Clear Sky and his own cats, not sure which of them he was trying to protect." It's Clear Sky. Bumble's life means nothing to Gray Wing, so he is trying to protect Clear Sky from the fury of the angry mob he has earned by killing her and Misty.

He CANNOT let there be any doubt. Not even from himself. His brother must be protected at all costs. To that end, he is trying to make some kind of opportunity for Clear Sky to escape accountability.

If you are "neutral" in the conflict between victims and their abuser, you have taken the side of the abuser. If you provide opportunities for a perpetrator to escape accountability, you are an enabler. If you allow a suspect to escape the scene of a crime, since every cat in these books seems to be a lawyer the minute anyone wants to react to violence, you could be charged with accessory fleeing and eluding-- a felony.

Before you try to say this is all in the noble pursuit of peace, let's not be dense.

DOTC is not committed to non-violence for any other tyrannical leader. Especially not One Eye, even believing that an underhanded ambush that breaks the terms of a duel Clear Sky set is the good and righteous thing to do. Killing him was the correct action, as it was with Slash in Riverstar's Home. Outside of DOTC this logic is casually applied to Brokenstar, Tigerstar, Scourge, Hawkfrost, Darktail, and Ashfur-- with only Leopardstar and Blackstar being "exempt" for following an evil ringleader.

Gray Wing himself has no moral dilemma about One Eye or Slash, either. Nonviolence is not his goal.

It is Clear Sky, and Clear Sky alone, who the narrative of DOTC will conclude "deserved" a million second chances. That torturing Bumble to death, slaughtering Misty for her land, and countless offscreen cases of attacking natives didn't push him past the "fundamentally evil" threshold into an irredeemable monster, as is the case with Slash and One Eye later in this arc.

The difference between Clear Sky and DOTC's other two tyrants, to me, is obvious. Clear Sky is the POV's brother and a member of the in-group of The Settlers. The lives of his victims, as mostly "foreigners" and entirely women, are worth very little to the notoriously xenophobic and misogynist writing team.

If the moor cats had shredded Clear Sky right here and now, dozens of lives would have been saved. The First Battle wouldn't have happened. Justice would have been served for Bumble, regardless of if the cause of death was 2nd degree murder or negligent homicide. He wouldn't have smacked and beaten any of his other victims.

Gray Wing prevents this, giving Clear Sky an opportunity to tell a lie.

(He even whines about the idea of Wind Runner challenging Clear Sky about boundaries, the whole thing that started this incident in the first place. This is the perfect time to start arguing about boundaries, actually, when he's in the middle of establishing new ones.)

In the past, I'd been too charitable to this exchange. This lie is obscene and anyone who believes it is ignorant. No frills, no bells, you either can't think critically or just didn't want to so Clear Sky can be innocent or Gray Wing can seem "reasonable."

Clear Sky's visibly eager to start his story, "glad of the chance" now that he's had time to concoct a story. He could have explained earlier but didn't, sizing the group up and glaring at his brother to crack a whip, asking if they believed he was capable of it, so he could gauge what he can get away with.

"New part of my territory" = Freshly annexed land he has violently conquered, confirming the patrol's fears of expansion.

"I wanted to give her a warning, just a little cuff" = No one leaves his territory gently. Confirmation he thrashed her, downplay of how severe.

"How was I to know she would faint?" = Bumble is visibly emaciated, and he's blaming her for not being able to stay conscious through the whole beating.

"I could see her paws twitching, and I knew she would come around" = He would not care, Misty's body was unburied for two days.

"So I left" = Leaving Count: 1

Pauses, wincing, because this is another act. Every time he's putting on a little show for other cats, he takes dramatic pauses and plays up his pain and regret. Seen earlier in this book.

"But heard a fox bark" = no barking was heard by the patrol, only a cat's shriek.

"And ran back" = Was apparently so close that he could hear barking the patrol didn't, but so far away that a fox had time to cut her to ribbons, AND this was so long ago the patrol wasn't close enough to hear the fight? Returning Count: 2

"But I was too late" = Wounds inconsistent with fox attack. Leaving Count: 2

"I was going to get help" = There is no medic in proto-SkyClan. When Jagged Peak broke his leg, they had to borrow Dappled Pelt. What help? Who?? Even as he says this, Frost's wound is going completely untreated. If Clear Sky was going to get help, why wasn't he telling Cloud Spots to do something when he got back?

"But then I heard you all arrive" = He left to get help but was still close enough to hear running? Just abandoning his noble quest to get that "help" he apparently has? Returning Count: 3

Not a single part of his story adds up. EVERY aspect of it has a problem, in that it's either deceptively worded to downplay his abuse, doesn't line up with who he is, or just doesn't make logistical sense.

It's not JUST a lie, it's a BAD one.

Even worse, Clear Sky is a known liar at this point. He does this when the truth would not benefit him, like earlier in this book when he fibbed to Thunder about why he abandoned him right in front of Gray Wing's face. The story doesn't make sense and there's not even any reason to give him benefit of the doubt, because he is known to be dishonest.

He's offended when Turtle Tail calls him on being full of baloney, and once again shoots a sharp look over to his flying monkey, expecting Gray Wing to dance on command and defend his honor like always.

But Gray Wing seems to be perfectly capable of being "wise" when it would directly benefit Clear Sky.

I have seen the question begged, "if he's such a bootlicker then why he no verbally bootlick a third time in a single exchange?" and I would tell that person to read the text because it says why. Right there. Here, I've underlined it. So you don't miss it again.

If Gray Wing licks that boot again, THIRD TIME, in front of an angry mob who wants to skin Clear Sky alive, they will lose patience and make the clearing look like Bruce's Eating Dome. So he shuts the fuck up and gives his ungrateful brother the chance to indignantly slip away, even though he desperately wants to cry out and tell him how shiny and lickable those boots are.

"What can I say?" Nothing. "I'll only make things worse" Correct. "If I don't let him leave now there will be a fight" im literally just quoting the text verbatim

He is NOT doing this because he does not believe him, NOR because he doesn't want to defend him. It's because this the best way to protect his brother from consequence.

And then Bumble uses her dying breath to apologize for ever hurting her friend, showing Bumble is still just blaming herself for everything, with Turtle Tail still repeating the same malicious excuses that were used to deny her asylum from domestic abuse.

"I wish you could have found happiness, even though I was unwilling to help you. It sucked to learn that our shared wifebeater started wifebeating you, but we didn't want you in our camp so really this was unavoidable."

I've voiced my ire before, gone on long rants about how angry this exchange makes me and even campaigned for more recognition of the misogyny in this subplot. The fact that the last words Bumble hears are just more excuses from a person who could have done something disgust me, and I think I'm right to feel that it's vile that this sits unexamined in a book for young readers. But it doesn't change what happened.

She senselessly died in intense pain and despair, for the crime of existing. All that's left to say is that I wish Bumble could have found a better friend.

But ultimately, Turtle Tail is another woman in the notoriously misogynistic arc of DOTC. She's just a supporting character for Gray Wing's conflict, and he's got some opinions about what, exactly, is making this so sad.

He doesn't give a fuck that this woman he hates has been murdered after slowly starving to death, for months, since he watched her be dragged back to a domestic abuser. She "stole" his romantic interest for a few months, after all.

It's stressed he "never especially liked Bumble" at her deathbed. It's not JUST "the death of a kittypet," a group of people he is bigoted against. It's about his piece of shit brother.

It's about how HIS REPUTATION HAS BEEN TARNISHED.

"It changes the way my cats think of Clear Sky," THAT HE IS NOW A KNOWN MURDERER, "and that changes everything" IT'S GOING TO BE A LOT HARDER TO DEFEND HIM NOW

This is completely consistent with Gray Wing's behavior into the rest of the chapter, and even the books beyond.

The Immediate Response

Gray Wing explains what happened to the other moor cats. He has to hide his actual belief that Clear Sky didn't actually do anything wrong so that the moor cats don't dismiss him for the biased, brother-obsessed little minion he is. He admits how he really feels about Bumble's death to Turtle Tail at the very end of the chapter-- so what he says here is a lie.

Not a delusion. A lie. He withheld the full truth of his bias when questioned. If he's honest about his conflict of interest, this group will trust his judgement less. He has a goal; to prevent his cats from retaliating.

Wind Runner is, again, the one who is rallying the other cats into action. She's seeing that Clear Sky is murdering innocent cats, possibly even her friend considering how much she knew about Misty, and that this will only escalate. Gray Wing doesn't like that.

So when Tall Shadow starts suggesting the things he agrees with, like how Bumble's life was less valuable anyway so this is no reason to start a fight with his Dear Sweet Brother, and they should all just sit on their butts until no one's angry anymore, he decides she "deserves" his support.

It's a political move.

"After all, she was only a kittypet... omg why are you so mad?? I didnt mean it like that, all im saying is that we should just calm down ugh dont be so sensitive" -Tall Shadow, channeling your racist aunt

If Gray Wing can get the other cats to waste their time on useless half-measures, like more patrols or perhaps writing a strongly-worded letter, he can make them feel like they're doing something when they're actually doing jack shit. Wittingly or unwittingly, this is a measure to stall the inevitable, making them miss their chance to strike while the iron is hot.

He's either an idiot or he's subconsciously acting from a place of loyalty to his brother. Bias resembles the former but is born of the latter, and either way the result is the same.

After this, there's a brief conversation where Tall Shadow makes it clear that there is absolutely no reason to be mistrusting Wind Runner. They both agree "when this is all over" she's a good cat to have around-- they just don't seem want to listen to her now, when she wants something done about the sadistic lunatic next door.

Gray Wing's talk of "working together" is laughable. His idea of "working together" includes the cat who just slaughtered two people for existing on his newly annexed land, who long ago stopped listening to reason. Tall Shadow herself starts preening and announces that her response to all this is that Clear Sky must absolutely be stopped by some cat.......................... so she'll think abt it.

tomorrow maybe. we'll put a pin in it. set a little reminder on her phone or something.

(the genius plan she comes up with in the end is a nonsequitor babble about how rocks don't exist to be sat on, so clear sky should just stop conquering all the land or something. he listens intently and then throws her into a tank of piranhas.)

But anyway, it's time to smooth things over with Turtle Tail, who had been struggling with that uncomfortable truth that the moor cats, and Gray Wing specifically, were also culpable in some way for the slow, painful death of Bumble.

He'll fix that with a big display of affection.

"Don't be mad at me it's nobody's fault :) She wouldn't have been able to cope so it's inevitable she wound up dead :) I'm sorry you're hurting bc i like you, not that i give a damn that your friend was shoved into a blender and shredded alive after starving for months :) Thanks to you I am now ready to lead this clan directly off the side of a cliff." -very endearing conversation i assure you

It works because Turtle Tail is not allowed to maintain her own opinions as a girl in DOTC. Obviously. Her husband licks her ears and tells her that he likes her and that's the end of any examination that they have any responsibility here. god forbid she re-examine her feelings towards the writers' favorite in light of how much of an ass he made of himself at her friend's deathbed.

Just in case it slipped your mind though, once again it is made clear that Gray Wing is reacting with leisure because he does not believe (or care) that Clear Sky killed Bumble. No, not even in the negligent homicide sense, that Clear Sky's actions allowed Bumble to die through beating her unconscious and leaving her alone in an unsafe location. He does not think this was something to blame Clear Sky for.

He believes that the fox did it-- he was lying earlier when he said he "didn't know what to believe." He does. He didn't reveal his bias when he was being questioned, because he wants to prevent the moor cats from fighting Clear Sky over Bumble's death.

Also note the sneaky little turn of language Gray Wing makes there. In denial of Turt's claim that "innocent cats are being slaughtered," Gray's counter is Bumble alone before the pivot. The patrol was originally about Misty's murder and her missing kittens as Clear Sky expanded his borders-- but Misty's apparently not an "innocent cat" who's been slaughtered. She's absent from that category, implied to be part of Clear Sky's hypothetical "good reason" for expansion that Gray Wing needs to get to the bottom of.

Bumble's murder is denied. Misty's is implied to just be collateral damage for the unknown plan. He's unbothered about the death of either one.

Gray Wing: "No one else can get to the bottom of this! theres only ME! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP CLEAR SKY"

Also Gray Wing: (leaps in front of an angry crowd to defend his brother. cries that he doesn't believe hes capable of such terrible violence. actively prevents anyone else from doing anything about him)

Anyone with a vague awareness of DOTC knows how this ends. Gray Wing is going to lead them astray with his bad judgement, so purposefully delusional about his brother that they will have to dig a mass grave at Fourtrees. Gray Wing thinks he's a *~special boy~* who is the only one who can truly get through to his brother, and maybe he is, but not before dozens of people have to suffer and die for it.

This is enabling. To enable is to directly or indirectly support another's harmful actions, such as addiction or abuse. He did it here, both during and after Bumble's death, giving Clear Sky the cover to escape consequences for his actions and halting any attempts to do anything concrete. Because of him, Clear Sky never pays for what he did to her.

In the book 3, Clear Sky denies all wrongdoing, and in Bumble's last mention in book 4, her torture is described in passive voice. A terrible "happening" which seemingly couldn't have been avoided. No one is held accountable. Not the moor cats for turning her away, not Clear Sky for her killing, and even Tom the Wifebeater is redeemed after being given a chance to live in a clan for not being "soft" like his female victim.

All so sweet, beloved little Gray Wing never has to confront that he let a killer get off scot-free because the uncomplicated childhood memory of his brother as a lovely good boy was wrong. That he was so consumed by spite that he smugly watched Bumble get dragged away from the only people who could have helped her. That he was complicit twice.

Incredible suggestions that I have had to read with my own eyes

fucking ✨Bonus Round✨

"If clear sky fought bumble, why bumble leave no scratches?" I'll let you sit there and think about why the DOMESTIC ABUSE VICTIM did not fight back against a large, violent man who was beating her. I'll give you a minute. I'll play some jeopardy music.

"he's quote 'horrified and guilty' at the wounds which means he didn't make them himself" Clear Sky has a repeated habit of "blacking out" when he butchers women (Rainswept Flower, Willow Tail). He's also a liar and an actor, even according to his own account he'd seen these same wounds before when he came back a second time. Most importantly, what fucking part of "horrified and guilty" implies he didn't make those himself, does a toddler not look "horrified and guilty" when it spills chocolate milk on a couch and its parent sees it? Does that mean the toddler didn't do it? If you wouldn't accept this logic for a toddler why the fuck will you accept it for a suspected murderer?

"Maybe Clear Sky fought the fox off?" He doesn't actually say that, it's just implied during his lie when he says he showed up too late, but it's hypothetically possible. Even if he did fight this fox off, he must have still mauled Bumble because she is covered in claw wounds, even if he doesn't remember it because he "blacked out." There's also still the problems of Bumble being in the middle of the trampled grass, the patrol not hearing the sound of battle, his framing that he just tapped her and she passed out, and him apparently running to get help he does not have. Occam's Razor still suggests the solution is that this fox was scared off when Bumble screamed, with Clear Sky just using the convenient smell to lie his way out of consequences

"How'd Clear Sky get fox scent on him?" Probably from showing up to the crime scene that absolutely reeks and prowling around like an axe murderer, which we saw him do. Bumble had no fox bites and no one heard a fight. did you know that if you stand in a sewer you smell like shit

"Gray Wing just doesn't want to think his dear sweet brother could ever do such a thing :("

"What if the Erins are just so incompetent that they created a crime scene completely inconsistent with the very true and real story that Clear Sky told, it just happens to look like a lie on accident, they unwittingly made him a liar earlier in this book because they forgot the events they previously wrote, and don't know anything about a type of predator that appears in nearly every entry of warrior cats and happens to be one of the most popular animals of all time" what if i tripped and fell and a shawarma with extra tahini sauce fell into my mouth, followed by an apple slice, and 3 litres of water. should i continue my fast or has Allah fed me.

All of this is why I am adamant on saying that Clear Sky killed Bumble by beating her to death. In order for this to have been the cause of a fox, you'd have to take a liar at face value and ignore every other detail. That's what Gray Wing does, described on the page as "desperate to believe in his brother's innocence."

Unfortunately, this will also not be the only time that Gray Wing's obsession with his brother and shockingly horrific judgement will put other cats in danger or get them killed. It's just the most deliberate example, and thus imo the most upsetting.

#warrior cats analysis #Bumble #Bumble wc #Dotc analysis #dawn of the clans #dotc hate #clear sky #skystar #gray wing #dotc #Justice for Bumble #Bumble dotc #Gray Wing The Wise

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nonpracticinghumanbeing · 7 months

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Izzy IS about community. He’s ALWAYS BEEN about community in his own messed up way. The Canyon was right and the haters were wrong.

He wanted Blackbeard back because that was what kept the crew safe. He was terrible about it and hurt the man he obviously loves in the process, but it WAS for the greater good. It wasn’t a purely selfish act the antis love to frame it as. He wanted to feel safe again and he wanted the crew to be safe as well.

Hell, he was doing his best to help Edward through his post-breakup depression. He didn’t understand what was going on and was clearly distressed by it but he provided what Ed needed. He *knew* he lacked the emotional capacity to help his captain himself so he agreed to bring him Lucius. I really think he would have just gritted his teeth and suffered through it if Ed didn’t say the one thing that could collapse his whole world.

"Why do we even bother being pirates?" That was what freaked Izzy out so much that he pushed Edward to violence. Not because he selfishly wanted Ed to be close at all times but because Blackbeard the legend was the pillar of his community. That legend kept everyone safe and even if Izzy is a horrible asshole, he *does* care about his crew. He knows the world is a horrible hostile place and he focuses on risk mitigation, even if it means hurting the one person he really cares about.

He really tried to provide that to the crew when Edward and Stede took the Act of Grace. It was a terribly misguided attempt at keeping things under control and it was certainly influenced by his submissive tendencies which make him crave structure and feel safe within hierarchies. He *knows* he lacks Ed's charisma and ability to think outside the box and with such huge shoes to fill it's not really surprising he acted out in anger and in result failed miserably. But he was *NEVER* an asshole just for the sake of it.

Now he realizes those days are gone for good. He's already done everything he could to bring Ed back to his senses, including using *Stede fuckin' Bonnet’s* name. It didn’t work. The realization that his one true safeguard is really gone must be terrible, but it also pushes him to take action.

The moment he realizes the crew are in real danger, he takes things into his own hands. He not only goes against the hierarchy he believed to be sacred but also against the man he *LOVES*. He fucking shoots his beloved captain to save the crew. You don’t get much more *community* than that.

He is clearly struggling. He's just tried to fucking kill himself after being maimed AND told he was disposable by a man whom he's apparently served for dacades. He will have to reevaluate his whole life and he *knows* it. But he puts it all to the side and he does what needs to be done. He took all of Edward’s abuse without complaint it seems but the moment the crew are in real danger, he intervenes. You can’t tell me a community (*any* community) doesn’t need people like that.

It all feels very old-time queer to me. The willingness to make terrible sacrifices to protect one's space. The decision (conscious or not) to be effective rather than liked. The choice to stay alive despite terrible heartbreak and go on fighting.

He's absolutely NOT an irredimable villain. He’s an asshole who tries to keep his little world safe. He’s Larry Kramer getting kicked out of GMHC for being too confrontational and politically incorrect to be palatable to the general public.

#ofmd #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #our flag means gay #ofmd season 2 #izzy canyon #ofmd spoilers

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raspberryslxt · 25 days

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Carl Grimes x Negan’s daughter!reader

warnings:none

The world had become a desolate wasteland, overrun by the undead and ruled by fear. Amidst the chaos, Carl Grimes found himself face to face with an unexpected ally – y/n, the daughter of the notorious Negan.

Carl cautiously approached the abandoned warehouse, his senses on high alert. He had heard rumors of survivors in the area, but he never expected to encounter Negan's daughter.

Y/n emerged from the shadows, her presence commanding attention as she leveled a gaze at Carl. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Carl raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. "I'm just looking for supplies," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "I mean no harm."

Y/n studied Carl for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Fine," she finally said, stepping aside to let him pass. "But watch your back. This world is unforgiving."

As they ventured deeper into the warehouse, Carl and y/n exchanged cautious glances, their guard never faltering. Despite the tension between them, Carl couldn't help but admire y/n resilience in the face of adversity.

"Your father... Negan," Carl began tentatively, breaking the uneasy silence. "What's he like?"

Y/n’s jaw tightened at the mention of her father, a shadow passing over her features. "He's... complicated," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he's not all bad."

„He killed my friends,” the bot said. Y/n looked at him with a „really dude” look.

Carl nodded, understanding the complexities of family loyalty all too well. "I get it," he said softly. "We all have people we care about, even if they've done things we don't agree with."

As they scoured the warehouse for supplies, Carl and y/n found themselves opening up to each other in ways they never expected. They shared stories of their pasts, their hopes and fears laid bare in the harsh light of reality.

Hours turned into days, and Carl and y/n formed an unlikely bond as they navigated the dangers of the wasteland together. They fought off hordes of walkers, braved the elements, and relied on each other for survival in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

But their newfound partnership was put to the test when a group of hostile survivors threatened their sanctuary. Carl and y/n stood side by side, their weapons drawn as they prepared to defend their makeshift home.

"We can't let them win," y/n said, her voice steely with determination.

Carl nodded, his gaze unwavering as he met y/n’s eyes. "We won't," he vowed, a sense of urgency coursing through his veins.

As the enemy closed in, Carl and Y/n fought with a fierce intensity, their movements synchronized as they battled against overwhelming odds. In the heat of the moment, Carl found himself relying on y/n’s strength and agility, trusting her with his life in ways he never thought possible.

When the dust finally settled, Carl and y/n stood victorious, their chests heaving with exertion as they surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and destruction surrounding them, they knew that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Y/n turned to Carl, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, her eyes betraying a vulnerability she rarely showed.

Carl returned her smile, a sense of warmth flooding his chest. "Anytime," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity.

As they stood together in the fading light of the setting sun, Carl and y/n knew that they had found redemption in each other's company – two souls bound by the shadows of their pasts, yet united in their quest for a brighter future. And in a world consumed by darkness, that was enough to give them hope.

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x oc #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #negan smith #negan x reader

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gildedkrone · 6 months

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A TREAT 🔞 (CW:BLOOD)

The last of the enemy crashes to the floor in an undignified heap as König finishes them off with a bullet through the cranium. Before he can react, tableware goes smash into the floor when the behemoth of an Austrian is slammed back first into the oakwood table in the room.

He tastes you on his mouth when you yank his mask up to tongue him in a room of deceased hostiles and he backhands you to get you off.

“’S fucking hurt, Kö.” His eyes narrow into slits when you roll the words off your tongue and cradle your cheek.

“Not here! Are you stupid?” He hisses and you lean into his space with a head tilt.

“Really? Don’t fucking lie.” He fidgets under your glare—the colonel unnerved by a lowly sergeant and your grin is sardonic of a man having slaughtered the enemy forces with your commanding officer. It’s quick work with the streaks of red souvenirs of war.

“Get off your stupid moral high horse.” His eyes move, displeased; you press your pelvis together and yank his chest forward using his vest off the table.

“I want to fuck you right here, sir.”

He sneers and pulls you flush with him with a finger on your throat mic. Careful! You berate him; they just always seem to break for no good reason.

“Filthy dog, you want this so badly?” His native accent always came through when he’s snarling or sneering and by god, it turns you on and your fingers loop through his belt.

Then get it, mutt. And you practically rip his trousers off with your boss on his back on a table ass naked and surrounded by corpses deep in enemy territory. You slick your hands with spit before fingering König to prep him. No lube, no problem.

A pained groan triggers your instincts and your gun finds an injured enemy soldier on the ground. He barely puts up a fight when you grab him by the nape and drop him unceremoniously on the same table. He groans when you manhandle him to disarm him.

“Seems like we have a witness, Kö.”

“You can kill him when you are done here, bärchen. Beeil dich, bastard.”

Satisfied the enemy is too wounded to go anywhere, you sigh in relief when your dick springs free from its cotton prison and already semi hard from the firefight earlier. Thoroughly coated in spit, you push past König’s rim into tight, velvety heat encapsulating your prick in a warm cocoon made just for you as König let out a short grunt when you fully bottom out in him. You’re not small by any means, but he’s big.

Bloodlust melds into nothing more than physical lust when you give a few experimental thrusts as the behemoth grunted and groaned when his rim catches on the bulbous head. He curses a storm in his native tongue when you heave his trunk like thighs up to rest against your chest and shoulders. The new angle allows you to thrust even deeper and the warm channel greedily sucks you in each time you pull back with its walls clamping down hard to draw several moans from your lips.

Two men in heavy combat gear with less sense than one fucking each other in the warzone and you can’t lie—the perverse part of your brain loves it. Victory sex amongst the acts of you and König is a momentous occasion indeed and his hand cups your balls and fondles them when you taunt him again when the friction slows your thrusts.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He refuses to answer until you swipe a hand through the blood oozing from a knife wound in your left arm, all coagulated, to dirty his pristine, soft hips with patches of red.

“Du verdammter Bastard! Ich werde dich bestrafen, wenn wir zurückkommen!”

“I don’t understand you, Kö. How about this?” He swears up a storm when your hands, dripping with your blood, gives your dick several languid strokes. You make sure to wet yourself with more liquid red when you remember just how roughly his ass pulls at you.

“You like it, you fucking pervert. Admit it, you love feeling even more of me in you.”

“Schweig! You foul mutt!”

“Your foul mutt, Kö.” You grin and thrust easily into him—the sight of the 6’10 Austrian clawing at the table with fire in his eyes and blood stained skin—it all pushes your further towards your peak building in deep thrums in your abdomen.

König isn’t faring any better, with how whiny he rasps as his dick drooled messily onto his vest with his ass clenching and itching for more. The fury in his eyes belies the need to feel you seed his ass with hot cum and he gasps when a commotion from the side halts your thrusts.

The injured foe has decided to make a run for it and with your dick still in König, you free the gun on his thigh holster and fired. The enemy topples forward in a spray of red mist and as you turn back to your superior, he moans unabashedly and spasms hard around you. You watch as he emptied his balls in strong spurts as his ass becomes even more greedy than before and your grip on his hips leaves prints for days.

When he is all down from his high, you smirk and he snarls at the knowing look.

“You came from seeing me kill another man? You truly are most pathetic, sir.”

He swats your hand and you breath hitches at how soft his ass is after his orgasm. A radio transmission from Horangi interrupts all the fun and you pull yourself free from König. With you and him in a more presentable state and all traces of the coupling gone, Horangi appears in the doorway and beckons for the Austrian to join him.

Just before he leaves, you yank his hood down. My room, later and shivers run up his body when dirty streaks of blood and cum disappear behind your tongue and once again, König struggles to not cum when your fingers reappear all clean and wet.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

#fanfic #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x male reader #x male reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #konig x male reader #könig x male reader #könig cod #konig fanfiction #könig mw2 #konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty

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simphornies · 2 months

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A/N: A bit shorter but 👀 Let me know what you think! 🫶

Word count: 2.8k (2,844) Warnings: a little bit angsty

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, finale

Deal Breaker [ Vox x Angel!Reader ] part 4

You didn’t even bother putting your things away neatly as you usually do. You furiously walked out your room, slamming the door behind you. You looked down every hallway you passed as you headed to the lobby. You headed over to the bar to ask Husk if he’s seen Alastor but before you could say anything, Angel Dust stopped you in your tracks with a tight, four-armed hug.

“Y/N! Holy shit…” He looked at you with tears in his eyes. His black scleras were now gone and back to normal. For a moment your rage subsided. You smiled at him and held him close, rubbing his back. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Your heart melted, remembering what you were truly in Hell for. “Of course, Angel Dust. Anything for my friends.” You look over at Husk who gives you a heartfelt smile.

Angel Dust was crying tears of happiness as you comforted him. He calmed down soon enough, repeating his gratitude for your actions over and over. You sigh and look at Husk, “Has anyone seen Alastor?”

“He’s up in his radio tower, probably doing a broadcast. Why?” Husk asked you, his eyes filled with confusion. You shook your head, not wanting him to ask further and he just nodded.

You flew up to his tower, fuming. You burst into his tower and he just greets you with a smile.

“Y/N! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my tower this fine morning?” He held his hands behind his back, unaware of your anger towards him.

“I told you to not fuck with Vox, Alastor.” You hissed at him.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes squinted, “Whatever do you mean, my dear?” He asks you.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you hurt Vox in that alleyway last night.” You screamed, “You could’ve killed him!”

He rolled his eyes, looking at his claws, disinterested in your accusations, “Oh trust me, if I wanted to kill him…I would have done so already.” His voice was laced with radio static. “But I haven’t laid a single finger on him, Y/N. He must be lying to you.”

You shook your head, “That’s bullshit! The marks on him matched your claws and I know how you attack other demons that interfere with your plans.” Your wings appeared behind you, eyes appearing on your hair and your wings as you took a step closer to the demon.

Alastor’s eyes turned black, his own demon form emerging slowly, “Y/N, I had no intention of harming anyone yesterday. Why I was just here at the hotel aiding Charlie!” He says, taking a step back for every step forward you took. You were seething in rage, refusing to believe that Vox lied to you. “I have better things to do over harming that noisy picture box. He’s too pathetic for me to entertai-”

SLAP.

Alastor fell to the floor, ears flat against his head. He looked up at you shocked as he held his cheek, “Y/N-”

“Save it, Alastor. You have a track record of being untrustworthy when it comes to your words.” You angrily say to him, “Vox has no motive to lie to me and he’s been nothing but kind to me and everyone in the hotel. But you,” You knelt down to his level, your finger at his chest, “You’ve been hostile and unforgiving. Untrusting of his attempts at collaboration with us because of what? Your pride?” You scoffed, “Makes sense why you’re in this ring instead of the others. Your pride stops you from seeing reason and giving second chances to anyone.”

You turned away from him, getting ready to leave his tower. “He’s proven his word to me. He’s broken Angel Dust’s contract with Valentino and you? You stand proud as if you’ve done so much more than assist every now and then with the hotel. You keep Husk on a leash and don’t think I don’t know that you keep a close eye on him ensuring he doesn’t speak about the deal. I know you’ve threatened him to keep his mouth shut. You really want me to help you break that deal that chains you down?” You look over your shoulder at him with rage-filled eyes, “Break that deal and prove your word. And don’t hurt Vox for trying to help the hotel.”

Alastor’s smile remained on his face but you saw his shadow frown. The infamous and feared radio demon cowered in fear knowing that if you really wanted to, you could take his life with ease just as Adam did. Maybe worse. Before you could leave the tower he speaks up, “I’ll break the deal Husk has with me.” You paused in your tracks, refusing to look at him. “Y/N you are a friend of mine and I promise you. I did not harm Vox last night. I swear to you I’ve been at the hotel. Ask everyone! I’ve been here this whole time. Trust me, Y/N. I would never show anyone weakness. You are correct, it is my pride that sets me back but I have proven to you that I am able to put that aside when it’s just us, have I not?”

He was right. He never showed himself to be anything but strong but he’s confided in you. He was one of the first friends you’ve made at the hotel. You turn to look at him on the floor and…was that fear in his eyes? Your eyes began to fill with tears, “Alastor…”

“I will prove to you, as my friend, that I am to be trustworthy. If there is anybody I am willing to prove my undying loyalty to, it is you. You are the one who saved me after all.”

You knelt at his side, placing your glowing hand on the cheek that you had slapped. “I’m sorry, I…I was filled with rage. That was unbecoming of me, I am sorry.” You apologized, “I…But why would he lie to me? What purpose…”

“To gain your trust, my dear.” He hissed, “I can undoubtedly assure you he wants you for himself. I know him, Y/N. He craves power as much as I do and he wants to keep you by his side and take you away from us.” A part of you truly wanted to believe in him, but the love that you suddenly had for Vox was overpowering your senses. He had become your weakness.

Back at Vox’s building, he sat in his security room laughing menacingly. He had seen you leave in a fit of rage through his cameras and found enjoyment in his plan. He rewinded the footage to rewatch you angrily go up Alastor’s radio tower. If Alastor’s presence didn’t interfere with cameras, he would have one in there to watch what you were going to do to Alastor. His face dropped when he saw you enraged. He didn’t understand why but he felt absolute guilt for lying to you. He had Valentino hire some random demon to attack him in that alleyway, making sure they had claws like Alastor to make it more believable.

The more he looked at your face on the screen, he noticed the tears in your eyes and he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt horrible. He’s never felt such emotion so strongly before. He started to think that maybe he should tell you the truth and drop the act but he was in too deep to turn back.

He left the security room and walked into his meeting room, stressed out of his mind. Valentino and Velvette were there waiting for him.

“Fucking finally!” Valentino groaned, “You took forever stalking your little angel bitch.” Valentino calling you a bitch made Vox’s eye twitch. He remained quiet.

“So how’d the plan go? Is it working?” Velvette looked at Vox excitedly, “Is she wrapped around your little finger?”

He quietly took a deep breath and put on a fake smile for his colleagues, “Of course it’s worked. Soon Y/N will be fighting for us.” He grinned but the smile faded from his face quickly.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Velvette watched him closely, noting his odd behavior. Usually he’d be ecstatic but he stood like he regretted his decisions. And he did. The time you two have spent together made him fall for you but his pride stopped him from turning back on his original plan.

“I don’t know. I…” He sighed and sat down, “I can’t fucking understand this feeling.”

“Ecstaticity?” Velvette suggested.

“Or maybe you’re horny from the power we’re about to get?” Valentino laughed, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke that faded into hearts.

“No it’s like. It’s like everytime I see Y/N’s face my heart stops beating.” He ranted. Velvette’s eyes widened and stared at Vox. “Everytime I hear her laugh, I want to hear it more.” Valentino’s smile faded and he stared at him alongside Velvette. “I want to keep that smile she always has on her face. I…”

Velvette and Valentino slammed their fists on the table. “Are you fucking kidding me right now Vox?” Velvette snapped at him, “Are you really telling me you’re falling in love with the fucking angel?” She scoffed and got up in her face, “You’re fucking kidding right?”

“Falling in love?” He questioned. Suddenly the dots connected in his head. He realized that he truly was falling for you. He fell for your kindness, your strength and your pride in your power.

“That’s fucking pathetic Vox. You can’t fall in love.” Velvette grabbed him by the collar, “You’re supposed to use her. She’s a fucking tool.”

“You’re seriously falling for the princesa’s second angel?” Valentino sassed, “You have me, Vox~” His hand caressed Vox’s shoulder seductively.

Vox pushed them both off of him, his left eye spiraling in anger. “I can feel and do whatever the fuck I want. Maybe I am falling for Y/N. So fucking what?” He spat back.

“You’re getting weak, Vox.” Valentino shook his head in disappointment.

“Get the fuck out! Both of you!” He screamed, seething in anger at the insults they’d thrown at you more than the ones they’d thrown at him.

“I wonder what the little angel would think if she found out about your little plan~” Velvette grinned at him, a threatening look in her eyes. “I think I should remind you that you’re supposed to be an overlord, Vox.”

He zapped in front of Velvette, grabbing her by the collar and lifting her up to his brightly glowing face. “Velvette.” He screamed, “Stand the fuck down. You’re not doing shit.” He growled.

She laughed in response, putting her hand on his, “And what are you going to do about it, Vox?” She teased.

He sent electric shocks throughout her body, making her scream at the sudden pain, before throwing her on the ground. Valentino rushed behind Vox, quickly turning him around. He landed a punch on his face, cracking his screen. Vox screamed as sparks flew from the cracks. He growled and grabbed his hand, flashing his screen brightly to stun the moth demon. He zapped him the same way he did to Velvette, throwing him on the floor next to her.

“Don’t fuck with me. I do what the fuck I want.” He spat at them.

Velvette managed a weak laugh, “Who knows? Maybe Alastor’s already told her that he was never here to begin with. It’s only a matter of time before your little bitch finds out you were lying.”

“And what do you think she’s going to say then, hm?” Valentino chuckled, recovering from the zap. “How’s your little ‘relationship’ going to work out?”

Vox gritted his teeth and zapped out of the office into his security room. He sat down in his chair, leg shaking with anxiety. “Fuck fuck fuck…” He muttered.

You sulked in your room, not knowing what to feel about the whole situation. Alastor was your friend, his vulnerability made you want to believe him but he also knew that vulnerability was your weakness. You’d fallen for Vox and you didn’t want to believe that he’d do something like that. You didn’t want to call and ask him either. You sighed and buried yourself under the blankets, your wings wrapping around you for comfort.

You heard the door open. “Go away.” You groaned. You felt someone sit next to you, it was Vaggie.

“I heard what happened.” She rubs your shoulder, “Vox is saying that Alastor hurt him and Alastor’s saying he’s lying.” You stayed quiet. “Hey. I know how it is.” You glanced at her and she gave you a warm smile, “Everyone’s flawed down here. Do you wanna talk about it?”

You were quiet for a moment, not wanting to talk but decided to get it off your chest anyways. “I just…I trust Alastor. I know you don’t trust him as much as I do but I was filled with so much rage that I…I hit him. I didn’t even bother asking, I just slapped him.” You swear you just saw Vaggie grin excitedly at the thought of Alastor getting hit but she dropped her grin the moment you looked at her. “And…Vox. I don’t know who to trust.”

“Well, have you talked to him?” She asks. You shake your head. “How about you start there?” “What if Alastor did hurt him? What if he lied? And what if I ask Vox and he says he lied? What if Alastor was right and he was just manipulating me?” You tear up, “I really did fall in love with him. He broke Angel Dust’s contract and kept his word so far. I just-” You broke down into tears.

“Hey. We’re in the Hazbin Hotel. This place is all about second chances. We forgave Sir Pentious despite his initial bad intentions. Charlie forgave me for not telling her about me being an exorcist.” She sighed, “She forgave me for not telling her I’m stuck down here because of the extermination! You know, maybe he has bad intentions, maybe he doesn’t. But at the end of day, everyone in Hell is flawed. It’s the actions that matter.” You wiped your tears away and nodded, understanding her points. “Think about it, okay? Maybe call him. Talk to him.” She gave you a hug before leaving your room.

You pulled out the phone Vox gave you and stared at his contact. Your finger hovered over the call button but you couldn’t get yourself to press it. You were heartbroken at the thought that either Alastor or Vox were lying. Your heart felt heavy. You hadn’t felt this emotion in so long.

While your finger hovered over Vox’s call button, your phone suddenly started to get a slew of texts that went too fast for you to read in the notifications. As you try to click on one of the many messages, Valentino calls you. You reluctantly answered. “Hello?” You weakly spoke out, your shaky voice evident.

“Hello angel~” He purred. You hated that nickname if it didn't come from Vox or any of your closest friends.

“What do you want, Val?”

“I just want you to know that you’re lucky Vox broke that contract off with Angel Dust.” He hissed into the phone, “Because if he was still mine he would be in my studio right now getting absolutely fucked to death. And I mean it. To. Death.” He laughed.

His laughter faded into the background as he passed it to somebody else. It was Velvette.

“And I want you to know that we are coming for you stupid little hotel. We stocked up on Carmilla’s weapons and we’re coming straight for you, holy bitch.” She cackled, “And just so you know. Your little lovebug Vox has been lying to you. He doesn’t want you. He wants your power! Hah! I can’t believe you really fell for it.”

“...What..?” You were in shock, almost dropping your phone.

“Little Voxy here decided to fuck with us and I’m going to safely assume it’s because of you.”

“Watch out, Y/N~ We’ll be there when you least expect it.” Valentino says in the background. The two let out a sinister laugh as the call ends abruptly.

You were speechless. You didn’t know what else to do except run out of your room to warn the staff of the attack.

“Guys!” You yell out from the stairs, “Get ready! Arm yourselves!”

“What?! What’s going on?” Charlie says, panicked at your frantic state.

“The Vees are coming. And they have angelic weapons. They…Something happened to Vox and now Valentino and Velvette are coming!”

“Shit-When? How do you know?”

“They just got off the phone and-”

BOOM.

A loud explosion comes from outside of the hotel. The building began to shake and before you could say anything else everyone’s expressions went from anger to worry as they ran towards you. You looked up and saw debris falling down right where you stood.

Tag list: @dawko-fanpage @chewbrry @ghostdoodlen @emekeneme

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #slow burn

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the-nysh · 11 months

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Rewatching Trigun's 98anime (subs this time, being used to the eng dub) since I was curious to note the characters' shifting pronoun usage.

For reference, Stampede Vash always uses the softer, more humble, modest, boyish 'boku' - as expected (like Trimax Vash), even after his glow up in ep12, he still regards himself the same way. While Knives (Nai) exclusively uses the harder, more assertive, masculine 'ore'...ever since he was a little baby, which immediately differentiates them apart, but is...extremely (lmao) edgy of him.

But in the 98anime? Oh my god, it's all flipped around and completely different! Which quite interestingly reveals a lot of contextual nuances to many characters, and quite frankly rewatching in Japanese trying to catch all these things only thoroughly kicked my ass throwing in so many difficult-to-understand, unexpected curveballs; I'm both shook and humbled by what I've heard!

Because 98 Knives refers to himself as 'boku' O____O;; even during his most 'villainous' lines yelling at Vash too. Him having that casual but 'polite' poised dissonance in his voice comes off extremely unnerving;;; when he speaks of horrible things thru such an 'innocent' self-perception like that. (Even Legato uses 'boku' like him! Same in Stampede.) Damn I'm disturbed. He and Vash notably both used 'boku' when they were kids, but Knives in particular never really stopped saying that from their childhoods, so that says a lot about him. (His "did you just shoot me [boku]!?" comes off very uncannily childlike. No wonder Vash freaked out in guilt.)

But 98 Vash? Whoa, he requires a whole damn essay flips around ALL the time, interchangeably using BOTH! :O Often switching pronouns between 'ore' & 'boku' within the same episode, or even as quickly as every other sentence, even towards the same person. Depending on the immediate context/topic of what he's saying and the emphasis on how he's saying it. Via all his posturing, which 'persona' he switches into, his familiarity/humbleness/honesty/trust--even hostility towards certain people, and his mood's silly vs seriousness levels. Often reflective of how determined/confrontational/casual he is vs being walled off (masking) to openly repentant, lost or distressed too - but not always! It's Extremely inconsistent fascinating but confusing!!! Because there's no....fixed 'rules' to his usage. For ex he'll often use 'ore' casually within his own internal monologues to his more bombastic public self-introductions, or even when he's at his most serious in private moments about grave matters, like settling his past during his scar scene with Meryl. Even Eriks!Vash still uses 'ore' when confessing his guilt to Wolfwood about the Fifth Moon! So there feels to be a general preference for using 'ore' when he (internally and externally, both in casual and serious contexts) needs to show his 'determination' - aka being the man (the ideal 'Vash'?) he wants to become.

But then he'll flip around using 'boku' for some of his most exasperatingly fake ✨playful✨ bits when he's kidding and messing around in mock courtesy (bonus: he even uses 'watashi' as a joke for his ridiculously long 'formal' name introduction to Wolfwood).....AND 'boku' will be used for his most sincere humble (polite) conversations back with family members he knows at Home, and when he connects back to his childhood with Rem in his dreams. The Diablo ep is a good example: he uses 'ore' throughout the ep until he reverts to 'boku' after speaking to Rem deciding not to kill, and that humbling shift, like to that of a lost younger boy, makes so much sense. The shift happens again when Eriks!Vash thinks about Rem feeling just as lost: "what should I [boku] do?" And after the tragic incident at Home when he's depressed and masking himself behind his glasses, while quietly reflecting to Wolfwood with a reproachful, "Everyone who touches me [boku] dies." ...Before immediately changing back to 'ore' in the next sentence firming his resolve to face Knives.

But in general it really depends and you have to listen hard (pay close attention) to hear how much contextual teasing, sincerity, irony, genuine respect, or...humbling self-reproach and self-depreciation he uses. Indicative towards how much (or how poorly) he internally regards himself and how he externally presents himself to others, because it changes. All the time. His personal pronouns aren't fixed! ...Basically, I'm just as confused as Meryl (and it really makes narrative sense why she's so confused by him), not knowing which 'persona' is the real him! x'D

...Oh but a really good moment, in ep24 when Meryl pleads at him to be honest with her for once about all the tragedies, he uses 'boku' explaining everything to her about Knives. That's....really good. :O Like umm...him using 'ore' before with her (in the scar scene) kind of erected a subtle barrier when he refused to elaborate further, but using 'boku' so sincerely for her request.....like it..extends her the same humble level of courtesy/trust he'd use towards the 'family' he loves back at Home (+Rem)....but it's so loaded, cause he's being honest but still...distant telling her why he's better off alone. :')) Man...(the aaangst) Oooooh, but then ep25 is very telling too, cause he's mentally lost for the whole ep, always using 'boku' so anguished and self-deprecatingly....until Meryl saves him and he gives her his softest genuine 'boku' yet, after he recovers back to himself donning the red coat again, thanking and assuring her he'll be alright. :'D (Hooray~) Before internally switching back to 'ore' on his final quest setting out alone for Knives. Ep26: he still keeps that distinct assertive 'ore' in front of Knives "I [ore] will survive!" and 'boku' for Rem: "I [boku] will continue to believe in you, but will look to my own [jibun] words for guidance." :')) (Bonus: 'jibun' is added when he philosophically thinks in terms of 'oneself'/'myself' from now on.)

Bonus nuance: while younger Vash may have dependently followed Knives' lead around--back when they both used 'boku' together, older (current) Vash--using 'ore' with him, feels like he's grown to assume the role as the more independent, responsible older brother now, when he finally understands how to put Rem's last words to 'take care of Knives' into practice. :'))

So tl;dr: Vash tends to have a casual leaning preference for using 'ore' in most situations both private and public, but especially for whenever he asserts his determination involving Knives with a confrontational edge. 'Boku' is used exclusively (politely, with genuine deference & care) towards extended family members he loves (like Rem, Brad, Doc, and eventually.....Meryl; using the softest 'boku' towards her I've ever heard. ;.;) And for whenever he humbles himself in distress, feeling lost in turmoil or self-reproach. But it's not set in stone! Since both pronouns can be used sincerely or ironically in jest, for whenever he's feeling silly or playing a bit (donning a mask), easily switching depending on presentation or context too. 98 Vash simply does what he wants! While Meryl screams in confused exasperation!

As for 98 Meryl, she often uses the book-standard, more formal/professional 'watashi' when introducing herself (Stampede Meryl too), and her speech patterns are typically very polite and pleasant to listen to (with many lovely 'desu-wa' sentence finishers.) ...Until she changes to the informal, more feminine 'atashi.' Ex: when screaming at Milly to let her go (to Vash) as the city blew up during the Fifth Moon incident. The raw sincerity in her voice for that change is so...🥺 of her. Note, cause most other girls - from Rem, Milly, younger kids like Lina, to older (but youthful) grandma characters all informally use 'atashi.' So for Meryl to drop her usual formalities when her honest feelings come out ("I [atashi] need to go there!" - to the epicenter where Vash is) means a lot. :')) ...Ah! Cause she slips to 'atashi' again in ep25, in front of Vash (while he uses 'boku' at his most mentally lost and openly wounded state) at his bedside. o///o Oh my... Using 'atashi' again while crying to Milly in regret that she couldn't confess anything yet to Vash on his sendoff. So yes, Meryl's feminine 'atashi' side shows whenever she expresses her honest feelings. :'3

Now 98 Wolfwood is a special case, cause he speaks primarily in Kansai dialect, which is extremely hard for me to understand what he's saying in modified/shortened slang all the time. (Compared to say, Meryl who speaks very cleanly and polite.) I've heard him use 'ore' when offering kids food, the more rural/casual form 'oira' when confessing his turmoil to Milly at his most vulnerable, 'uchi' when talking about 'our orphanage,' 'washi' (the 'old man' form of watashi) when speaking in more formal/aged terms of 'God', to the slang form 'wai' (he casually prefers this one a lot, and Stampede Wolfwood uses 'wai' too, esp when introducing himself to new people, for most of the few eps he's even in, and it makes him sound like...way older than he actually is?) to even 'jibun' when talking about himself with distance in flashbacks. The impression he gives off is like that of someone who's come from a rural/street kid (orphan) background...but who speaks like a chill elder now?? who's aged far too soon for his years. That's my best interpretation of what's happening. (His slang 'wai' even slurs to sound like 'oira,' almost like 'wai-ra' sometimes; gah it's really hard for me to discern, I'm sorry.) Bonus: he teasingly calls Milly 'my honey' in english, while she playfully answers him back with the pronounced 'a-na-ta' (dear), so they def have an inside thing going on. Bottom line, he's very complicated *bangs head on desk* and his accent is too unfamiliar/beyond my meager course level to fully grasp! :'D

To sum up (to the best of my hearing comprehension):

Stampede Vash: always boku, modest and unassuming towards everyone 98 Vash: BOTH ore & boku; not fixed. Casual preference for ore vs more humble courtesy using boku, but it's extremely context/mood/persona dependent, since he can mask & switch for jokes. Has a serious confrontational/determined edge using ore vs Knives--as if Vash becomes the older brother here, but always reserves the softer boku towards Rem and the found family he loves Stampede Knives: always ore, ever since he was a baby; so much edge 98 Knives: boku, coming off unnervingly childlike vs Vash's ore Meryl (both): watashi, but changes to atashi (98) when her honest feelings towards Vash show Wolfwood (both, Kansai dialect): primarily wai, but can use many other forms Legato (both): boku Roberto: ore Milly: atashi, but can mask using watashi when she's not fine Rem: atashi (98) & watashi (Stampede) Stampede Luida: watashi, but atashi when casual with teen Vash Brad (both): ore Dr. Conrad: watashi Stampede Elendira: watashi Stampede Zazie: boku

Now besides the animes, since Trimax is a whole other overwhelming complicated beast, and since I don't have access to check (nor would I even be able to easily read/understand) the Japanese raws, I'd be VERY interested in someone's investigation and breakdown into the manga's pronouns, especially for Trimax Vash, since I've heard that beyond 'boku,' he shifts and evolves throughout his journey too, possibly ending on a very soft wizened, matured 'watashi' that I'd love to hear more!

#trigun #commentary #meta #long text post #me thinking this would be a fun and interesting rewatch activity #*gets Immediately Pulverized by unexpected curveballs and difficulty*#ohhhhhhh my college courses in japanese aren't strong enough for this #that i know i could not survive trimax's raws; i'd be destroyed instantly

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avecra · 2 years

Text

Her

summary: When Bucky's anger gets the best of him during a debriefing meeting, your touch is the one thing that can ground him.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: injury, lil angst, hurt/comfort, angry!bucky is just protective!bucky

Bucky Barnes was seething.

Anger coursed through his body, streaming through nerves and coming off him in waves. The tension in the debriefing room was thick as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture rigid as stone. Grey eyes bored into the two agents that sat across from him.

“Buck, could you please explain what went wrong during the infiltration. Calmly.” Steve asked and took a seat next to you. Bucky’s eyes flickered over to you for a moment, the blues of his irises pushed through the grey, for a moment, until they glanced down at the sling that held your casted wrist.

A humorless laugh escaped through his lips and he rolled his eyes before leaning his forearms against the glass table, staring at the agent who wore a smug smirk on his face.

“Well, I was guarding the corridor so that Y/n could safely retrieve the file from the office. Once she obtained the file, we began to make our way out, but Agents Miller and Cruz decided it would be best to track our positions and call it through the radio, not the comms which led to them giving away our position to enemy dealers and laughing about it,” Bucky gritted out. “They should have called out through the communications link.”

Miller scoffed and Cruz leaned further back into his chair, shifting uneasy under Bucky’s stare. Steve shifted through his notes and glanced over to you for confirmation. You nodded.

“What happened after you were made?” Steve continued on.

“After our position was revealed, we made our way to the nearest stairwell, but once inside a rogue dealer got the drop on me and shoved Y/n down the stairs, which she came out with a fractured wrist. I managed to knock him out before he could turn around and we made it to the jet safely where I triaged her until we got back.”

Steve flipped through the pages of the mission report, scribbling his signature before he looked over at you, softly whispering your name. “Y/n?”

You turned your head and nodded. Then, he spoke again. “Agent Miller, Agent Cruz, is this true?”

The agents scoffed and Miller rolled his eyes, he began to fidget under Steve’s firm stare until he let out a grunt. “Yes, Captain. But I can assure you-”

“Are you aware of the protocols during field missions?” Bucky cut him off sharply, anger laced through his voice. He slammed his fists on the glass and pushed up from his chair. “For being such highly skilled agents, you clearly don’t have a lot of common sense. If I hadn’t reacted when I did, Y/n or myself could have gotten gravely injured or worse.”

“Buck,” Steve’s voice did not touch Bucky’s ears in the slightest.

Instead, Bucky pushed further. “You would have the deaths of two Avengers on your hands. All for what? So you two idiotic assholes would think it’s funny to do a prank during the middle of a mission with dangerous hostiles?”

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice was firmer, but Bucky did not relent. Not when you sat with your arm in a cast, with scratches littered over the soft skin of your cheeks and forehead. Over the perfect curve of your nose. Over the perfect plump of your lips.

“You probably thought it would be a funny to pull a trick on the big, bad Winter Soldier, to catch SHIELD’s biggest traitor off guard and make him look stupid,” Your hand gripped Steve’s forearm and sent him a worried glance. “You could have gotten Y/n killed, and I can promise you, nothing would have stopped me from tearing the both of you apart.”

“Bucky, enough!” Steve yelled, and only then did Bucky shoot up from the table and angrily stepped away so that his back was pressed against the glass, placing his hands upon his head, his fingers dug into the short brown wisps of hair.

You tried to catch his gaze, but he refused to look at you. In the years that you had been with Bucky, you had never once seen him lose his anger like he had a couple moments ago. He always kept himself composed and calm, especially in front of you.

Red flared over his face, angry grey eyes boring into the two agents, his vibranium fist clenched so hard, it would probably snap if not for the indestructible material.

“Agents Miller and Cruz will face three weeks suspension, once said suspension is up they will be required to redo their training on field missions, until Agent Romanoff has given the all clear. These terms are non negotiable.” Steve said as he closed the file and slid it across the table.

Three week suspension. Three weeks for slipping up that could have cost my girl her life.

Anger boiled in Bucky and a humorless laugh escaped his lips. He roughly hit his head back against the wall so hard that it shook the glass. Bucky knew it wasn’t directly Steve who came to the decision, but it still infuriated him.

Because at the end of the day, if he ever made the littlest mistake, a small slip-up while in the field, his suspension would be longer, by a couple of months.

But two agents who consciously exposed the exact location in front of the enemy deserved just three weeks.

Bucky watched your shoulders sag in defeat, you reached out and adjusted your casted arm and winced lightly. You caught his eye and sent him a gentle smile, through the scratches and cuts.

He pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the door. “If I ever get the displeasure of seeing you two assholes in the field again, maybe I’ll partake in one of your childish pranks. Then we can see how funny it is.”

With that, he slammed the door and retreated down the hall. His footsteps echoed so loudly that you and Steve could both still hear them. The captain cleared his throat and looked at the two agents.

“Desk duty begins immediately. Tomorrow, eight sharp. Dismissed.”

You watched as the two men sent an annoyed glare your way, but you ignored it. Instead, you waited until they vacated the room before you turned to Steve.

“Only three weeks?” you asked for confirmation, unsure if you wished they had been given a more lengthy punishment. “My arm will take almost seven weeks to heal.”

Steve sighed and nodded. “It’s above me, Y/n. I wish it was longer, but this is what has been decided. Best we can do is just make sure to never pair the four of you up again.” he said, gathering up the files. “Why don’t you go check on him and get some rest. I’d imagine you’re tired.”

You nodded and hugged Steve’s arm before you followed the steps to Bucky’s bedroom, where you knew he’d be.

Sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, Bucky sat hunched over, his shoulders rose and fell with every harsh breath. As gently as you could, you closed the door softly and made your way over to him.

The brush of your nails against his scalp made him look up at you. You were expecting dark eyes filled with annoyance, but instead you found soft blue ones filled with remorse. They flickered to the sling that held your arm and he sighed defeatedly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to lose my anger in front of you,” Bucky said, his voice softer now.

You stood in front of him, your free hand carded through the short locks of hair and Bucky rested his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. He fisted the fabric of your sweater in his hands.

“It’s okay, honey,” you whispered against his forehead.

But Bucky shook his head and held you tighter. “I should have acted quicker. I-I should have checked the stairwell before pushing you ahead. I should have been more alert, but instead I let that prick shove you and I did nothing.”

Flashes of the enemy dealer that roughly grabbed you by the back of your shirt engulfed your mind, the sudden pain of the stone steps pushed into every muscle of your body and it wasn’t long before you felt a grinding sensation in your wrist followed by pain.

Grunts and whimpers passed through your lips and you curled your arm towards your body, moving to sit against the stone wall. You could faintly see Bucky hold the dealer by the neck before slamming him into the wall.

You held him tighter and wrapped your arm around his neck and pulled him to your chest, pressing delicate kisses to the crown of his head.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” you whispered against his skin. You pulled back from him and traced your fingertips down the side of his cheek, across his tear rimmed eyes, over the bridge of his nose. “You got me out of there didn’t you? You got me safely to the jet and bandaged me until we got back home. That’s not nothing, honey.”

You remembered his gentle hands as he leaned you against him, arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you from the stairwell and to the jet, how he gently created a makeshift sling for your arm.

Bucky looked up at you and a tear slipped down his cheek, but you quickly wiped it away. “You always have my back, and I appreciate you so much for that. There is nobody I feel safer than with you, love.”

Blue eyes gazed into yours and Bucky leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips, a quick, chaste but still left you with butterflies in your stomach.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss against your collarbone and held you tighter.

Your free hand found itself stroking the back of Bucky’s neck and you leaned your forehead against his, lowering yourself gently onto his lap. His hold tightened on your waist.

“I love you, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble

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yanderes-galore · 5 months

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Is it possible to ask for a romantic concept of Miguel + Peter B Parker sharing a darling???

I'll try! It may be short but I hope it comes out okay :) I wasn't sure what to add without repeating myself.

Miguel O'Hara Concept

Peter B. Parker Concept

Yandere! Miguel O'Hara + Peter B. Parker Sharing

(General Thoughts)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Poly/Sharing, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Isolation, Implied kidnapping, Violence, Clingy behavior, Marking mention, Stockholm syndrome implication, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

We can assume based on how I portray the two that they're both the protective type.

As a result they'd tolerate sharing you.

Peter no doubt would be the one to fall for you first.

But first he'd try to get Miguel used to you, the start of breaking down his friend's walls.

The two have very different intensities but overall have the same goal: keeping you safe, like heroes (and lovers) should.

Peter is softer and more delusional, he clings to you with the hostility of a teddy bear.

Then there's Miguel who is rougher and more possessive, clinging to you with the possessiveness of a beast.

Peter is the faster obsession while Miguel takes longer.

If they're sharing then Peter would make Miguel's obsession develop faster by having you three get to know each other.

You can bet your home quickly becomes Miguel's office the moment the two obsessions start.

Peter is relatively lax in his obsession.

Such a thing frustrates Miguel since he hates how carefree/lazy Peter is at times.

How are they supposed to protect you if he acts like this!?

Miguel as a result is much more serious and strict.

Peter would be the one to drag you into cuddles and praises.

While Miguel would be one to enforce things, such as punishments and isolation. He's the driving force once he's on board.

The two of them have a craving for a sense of family.

In this AU Peter is still divorced, so he's chasing the feeling he had before with you.

Meanwhile Miguel has his own backstory with family, even replacing an alternate version of himself to have one.

The two Spider-Men feel they have a chance to have a family if they both have you.

Between the two of them there would be a lot of manipulation and isolation.

Miguel is adamant that keeping you away from others and in the sight of Peter and him will keep you safe and happy.

Obviously Miguel can be more intimidating with his methods... so Peter comes in to comfort and reassure you.

I imagine Peter would remind Miguel to be nicer around you.

Neither of them would kill but may get violent if they felt they were threatened by an anomaly or another Spider-Person.

Miguel comes off as scary but he's really just trying to do the right thing like any Spider-Person.

And Peter? ... for the most part very harmless.

Miguel is more possessive with affection, he'd be the one to mark/bite, bruise your lips with kisses, leave marks, etc.

Meanwhile Peter is soothing with his affection yet starved, he'd give you softer kisses and gentle touches yet at times never leave your side for hours.

Really once you're brought to the Spider Society, even as a Spider-Person, like in the Miguel concept you can't escape.

Miguel will drag you back, scold you, perhaps even suggest punishment... before Peter comes in.

Peter would calm everyone down even though you did worry him.

Peter can help you at times unless you upset him.

After that he lets Miguel deal with things.

Honestly, if they had to, they have ways of keeping you trapped.

Many ways....

You see, it would be better if you accept the fact they're protecting you.

Freedom right now may be too dangerous for their sweetheart.

That's okay, your boyfriends will show you that they do this out of love for you...

You may even forget about freedom the more they're around if they're lucky.

#yandere into the spider verse #yandere across the spiderverse #yandere itsv #yandere atsv #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere peter b parker

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feedingicetothedog · 1 month

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rewind the tape ep 2 question: Why do you think it's important for Louis to maintain the thread of his humanity, specifically by doing so through having a human meal he can't taste?

i had to answer this question bc i'm obsessed w it and what it reveals about louis narratively. i think it's important for louis to keep up the motions of humanity in a way that mimics connection. louis is desperate for authenticity but only if the gesture carries symbolism but the moment one imbues ritual into an action, the action is now a performance even if the audience is just the performer. i've talked about the usage of the golden spoon in this scene before but it adds an extra layer of performatism (in the post-postmodern sense) to the whole scene.

but on top of that performative aspect, i think it's interesting that the gesture of humanity louis chooses to preserve is eating food. this whole ep prominently features louis' struggles w hunting and how his vampiric hunger almost drove him to kill his nephew and further alienated him from his family, his human connections. the interview is also placed entirely in a dining room. daniel eats human food but these meals are more aesthetic than satiating w the presentation of an experimental fine dining establishment while louis drinks blood from a mysterious farm, eats a live fox, and then drinks from a human man all on the other side of the table. the way eating is presented in this ep feels almost hostile. daniel comments that louis "missed" several endangered species in what he chose to serve daniel, ultimately leading daniel to participate in predatory, unethical consumption alongside louis. and i think that's the point. serving daniel these meals attempts to force a reluctant empathy (one that daniel rejects and instead voices his disgust). and then he asks daniel this:

louis does. it's all he contemplates. what he eats and how he eats it symbolizes his separation from humanity. so in this mode of thinking, louis decides to make his tenuous tether to humanity by eating human food once a week. and the dish he chooses in this scene is taken from an emotionally significant moment from daniel's memoir, another act of proposed empathy between him and daniel. and while this moment is softer than the scene w the fox or damek, it still ends in this shot:

louis and daniel are sharing this meal and this moment but they're so far from each other. to me this demonstrates the futility of the gesture. they're physically performing the same action but their experience is so fundamentally different. louis is performing human actions but he is at this point so far removed from the concept

#i think the essence of the question got away from me a bit but i'm so obsessed w the dessert scene and what it means #and i just really wanted to talk about it #rewind the tape #vampterview

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gz-missfit · 9 months

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So I wanna talk about tazercraft cause their characters are so incredibly interesting to me in the best way possible. To preface this I don't speak a word of Portuguese (I'm learning tho! And have been picking up on sentences a lot more) and my native language isn't English so I may get some things wrong and if I do feel free to correct me!

More under the cut:

I'll put this in 3 separate parts, them individually and then their dynamic!

Mike:

Mike is interesting to me, he's definitely the outward instigator of the 2 when it comes to causing trouble and as many have already pointed out the brains behind a lot of it! He's managed to master the create mod in ways I genuinely never expected them to be used and it's a cute way to say that mine (his wife) was also a cause of that as the goddess of creation. To move to his personality more he's definitely the lead talker in the duo, he's a lot more confident in his voice and speaking in comparison to Pac and can often seem like the lead of the duo, tho this is the cause for people missing his weaknesses! Mike is not a fighter, far from that actually, he freezes in danger and fumbles. His hand tremble when he holds a sword and sees mobs closing in and when big threats appear his whole body turns into ice. He gets overstimulated by danger he couldn't prepare for or was the cause of. Just to name 2 examples here, the first is in the dungeon on the day the timer ran out you could hear him panic, he was a lot more shaky and especially his sword being the cause of injuries to his friends is what made that worse, it went so far that he even typed in chat that he was overwhelmed (fun fact to note is that through all of that he basically vanished from pacs pov but I'll get to that). Another example is when the code showed up to him and pac to drop Richas cow head to them, he later on explicitly state having frozen in fear to i think Fit if i remember correctly and even when ttt was typed in the chat and pac had jumped down to follow Richas to make sure he could teleport Mike was again, nowhere to be seen.

His fear of a fight that revolves around his family and death especially is so interesting to me cause it's obvious that a lot of that comes from Richas first death and how he still blames himself for it, the fear of failing his loved ones again being set deep into his bones whenever a danger for their lives comes up. This is why the prison stream actually was even more interesting to me than I initially expected, because his personality in that sense took a complete 180! Now it's been shown time and time again that Mike has an intense distaste of the federation and hasn't been fond of them for a long time, he's incredibly hostile to them and not scared at all when threatened by them to the point where it's a game for him and he's retaliated with threats that could lead to a ban for him multiple times. Before I move on I think the reason as to why this is is because the federation never showed to kill or take lives, I think that's why Mike has a lot more confidence in confronting them rather than things that have shown to be fatal with all intention of killing. Back to the prison though, Mike's personality to threats definitely took a turn in there, from the moment we saw him he looked pissed beyond believe and his tone was always threatening and almost mocking, his mind quickly was set on getting him and pac out as soon as possible and the realization that Walter Bob, someone who both have seen be the first federation worker that showed them kindness and an interest in what they do after willingly showing up for a haircut is what devastated him. Mike sees Walter as a close friend due to that and it showed because as soon as the realization of Walters long term treatment hit him he did everything to protect the worker he maybe met a handful of times, you could see him get more and more agitated the more the guards hit him and ironically enough I think if Walter hadn't been there idk if he would've killed the guard, but he was so set on finally setting Walter free as well as make sure Pac doesn't have to relive the past they shared that he was willing to do everything to get those 3 out and that all is perfectly encapsulated by his behavior once Walter got taken again, Mike wasn't sad or distraught like Pac was, no, he was fucking fuming to the point where he didn't respond to Pac. Ya know, the person he talks to 24/7 and that's attached to his hip to the point where most of their words are shared telepathically above all. It was obvious that he was angry beyond believe and I'm sure he's got a lot more plans up his sleeve now to get revenge. Cause if there's one thing about Mike it's definitely that you do not want him as your enemy. He may be an outwardly social guy who is definitely more focused on making people laugh and showing off the things he and Pac created but he's still a fugitive and would destroy the world for those he holds dear as they help him feel stronger in the moments where fear does get the better of him.

Pac:

Pac is honestly incredibly fascinating just due to how many levels his character has. He's outwardly the person that appears more shy in comparison to Mike and stumbles as well as gets flustered quick. This has also been the main cause of people seeing him as a weaker player (which also got added onto by how during the earlier days he'd be the one to die a lot) which in turn has caused an interesting dynamic between him and a bunch of the others players because he's far from that. Pac is full on the brawns when it comes to situations that mean fighting for someone's life, his brain goes into focus mode once a life is on the line and there's many examples to show that! Which is why I find it so funny that he often gets handed things due to seeming and behaving weaker than he actually is (main example here being etoiles who not only gave him a custom diamond sword early on which Pac has kept to this day but also the Scythe which he nowadays uses as his only weapon).

Now to the examples of how he can very much carry his own weight In fights and how fascinating it is to watch him, the first big show of him effortlessly carrying himself and doing his best to support others was during the timer dungeon, he was at the front with Bad,Etoiles and Cellbit and even when a lot less geared than those 3 with a weapon that did a lot less damage he didn't go down once even tho he wasn't even holding a totem at any point. It's genuinely impressive with how well he carried himself through that and used movement to attack big groups of mobs from behind only to have vanished out of their sight again before they could corner him. The only time he got truly cornered was at a point where even Etoiles had to back up a little and ended up next to him and the way Pac casually mentioned being fine only to instantly jump at the opportunity of humor through small talk sticks in my brain to this day due to him having stayed mainly silent the whole time before that. The 2 other examples are about Richas and how quick Pac is to defend his son, like I mentioned before when the Code showed up to him, Mike and Richas, Pac instantly jumped into aggressive, he wanted to hit it but fell due to underestimating the jump and as soon as he laid eyes in Richas he became Pacs priority sticking to his sons side until he was Tp'd away and only then returning to the Platform. The same thing happened during the dinner! Every parent except for him crashed when the codes revealed themselves and as much as Richas was quick to start running the speed at which Pac laid eyes on the egg and started to follow right next to him was genuinely mind blowing, he stood at that elevator once Richas left ready to die if it came to it just to make sure one of those things didn't follow him, and as soon as Mike relogged he became Pacs priority with the latter hovering around him will he was loading in.

Now to compare this to the behavior in prison is interesting. Pacs still as good as ever when it comes to putting on a persona to get what he wants but I do believe that the prison brought up a lot of trauma for him, from what I know his time in prison was a lot worse than Mike's and you could hear that through his voice throughout the whole stream. Pacs a physical fighter not a mental one. But in the end he still has that survival instinct, he still knows he needs to get out to protect his family and he doesn't want to be separated from his other half and best friend anymore so he plays sly. The way he stole the keys from the guard genuinely is the most slick maneuver ever and his ability to portrait his behavior in an exaggerated way that makes him seem like no threat at all has worked in his favor multiple times during this too. He was definitely suffering through that whole experience but his determination to protect the ones he loved still slipped through, his hesitancy when he called to the guards not to hit his friends only to have his voice go small once he was physically threatened. He's not at all comfortable when he doesn't have anything to fight back with. Pacs underestimated A LOT, he let's himself be pushed around for bits with a smile and definitely enjoys appearing a bit dumber and less skilled than he is just due to the perks of it and not really caring for bragging about fighting skills when he'd rather show off the project he and Mike have spent time on, only those with a keen eye can see how he's got the heart of a fighter (Etoiles being the first to vocally call this out) he's not weak by any means and definitely a lot smarter than he'd ever admit. He'd die to protect his family and the ones he cares about and would never back down if push came to shove for them.

To sum this all up and not make this too long (which it already is pfff) for both of them together their dynamic is very clearly the "do not separate" but funnily enough Mike is the one who definitely leans onto that more. During each fight where he panicked, got overwhelmed and/or froze he was missing from Pacs pov, they were split apart and it was Mike who was terrified of not being able to hold his own, the same happened in the prison just differently. In the prison Mike definitely put on a cold facade but it broke everytime he asked if they could share the same cell, the underlying fear of him having to fight alone lacing his words through moments like that. This doesn't mean that Pac isn't the same tho! He's just less outwardly vocal about it in comparison and shows it more through actions and looks. It was obvious to hear his distress when he called Mike's name in prison but his constant turning around to see where the other is and his hesitancy to go into areas that implied separation are what showed how hes just as scared as Mike is about loosing the other.

To go more into headcanon and theories I'd like to think of the 2 as 2 hearts and a shared soul, their telepathic communication is borderline Canon at this point and it's obvious that the thought or implications of being separated doesn't sit well at all with either of them. Their bodies and life's are separate but they're still connected by a soul. And whether that's shown through jokes like not being able to be in one spot without the other or through genuine things like Mike having to remind Pac that only he can hear him unless he uses his voice or their ability to flawlessly work around the other is up to interpretation of each viewer in my opinion but there's something to be said about the fact that without the other they'd never had the determination or confidence to get out of that prison, that without the other their weaknesses would show a lot more and end up causing a lot bigger of a struggle than they currently are. Without the other they wouldn't feel whole.

#qsmp #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #character analysis #i think #im trying these 2 are so #genuinely interesting to me #in the best way possible #cause at their core they're still silly guy's #long read #text post #void mumbling

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