#I was so sad his trauma wasn’t explored more

[antigonenikk]

I think the saddest part of michaels storyline in season 3 is how little it matters to anyone else. Michael tells Tommy he was molested and Tommy brushes him off and tells him to kill his former abuser. No affection given, no brotherly love. Even after the unfailing loyalty and devotion that he’s shown Tommy since they’ve met. It is never discussed again. Michaels mother never broaches the subject, and Hughes himself doesn’t even RECOGNIZE Michael as an adult. All this pain he’s been carrying, this intense drive to attain power and protection so he won’t be a victim ever again, and no one gives a shit. His tragedy is a footnote in everyone else’s story, even the story of his abuser. Poor forgotten boy with no name, no home, no family, disregarded by everyone he loves, even the narrative itself views him only with apathy.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part two

“first impressions”

part one | honeymoonin’

A/N: well, well, well, fancy that we’re all meeting up here, huh? 🥵 first, I just wanted to give a big thank you to @itsokbbygrl who has been feeding my brain rot all day. I appreciate you so so much and your input is extremely helpful 🥺 I do not have a lot of knowledge on the adult film industry, but I’m eager to dive into it with y’all. We all have our different preferences and tastes when it comes to porn, (if you choose to watch it) but for me personally, I’m into porn that is catered to women. And guess who else is? Joel fuckin’ Miller! I hope these impromptu drabbles give you all the warm, fuzzy, and hornknee feelings. In this household, we support sex workers 💗 we also support healthy communication during sex, safe sex, and sexual liberation for everyone. Thank u also to @strang3lov3 for the title 🤍

~word count: 5.0k~

Summary: it’s your first time meeting Joel Miller, your new adult film partner

Pairing | pornstar!joel miller x pornstar f!reader (and a sprinkle of pornstar!tommy miller. More to come in later chapters!)

Warnings: 30s reader/40s joel, general discussions of the porn industry, brief discussions of workplace trauma, mild swearing, kissing, slightly inappropriate workplace relationship, boss/employee power dynamic but it’s only lightly explored in this chapter, voyeurism, light smut, f!masturbation, reader has no physical descriptions, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol consumption, +18, minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

When you moved back to Austin Texas looking for a fresh start after a rather rocky experience doing unsatisfying pornos as a regular on screen talent for the mega studio, Brazzers, you never expected to rejoin the industry through a professional studio. After being fired, you settled on making solo amateur films in an attempt to pay your bills and make ends meet. The only problem was rent in LA was nowhere near affordable, and the pay was significantly less than you’d been bringing in from the studio. That’s when you made the decision to leave the state of California entirely, looking eastward towards a once-familiar home.

Your roots were in rural Texas, and although your parents ultimately disowned you for joining the adult film industry, you still had a support group of fellow transplants in Austin that had missed you terribly.

The porn industry was always evolving, but with these changes came an influx of new content. You had a decent following for a small time account, but without the promotion budget that came with films produced at larger studios, your homemade solo films were inevitably pushed to the bottom of the pecking order, making it difficult to expand your audience. You thought about quitting entirely and getting an everyday job as a receptionist at some corporate office, until one night you stumbled upon a channel account that was based in Austin. “Miller-Co, Real people, real sex, professionally produced for your pleasure.” Surrounded by unpacked moving boxes on your single, sad, sofa, you poured yourself a tall glass of wine and clicked on the first video that appeared on the channel’s page, its male lead catching your eye immediately and you clicked the video details to find his name.

Joel Miller was big in every possible sense. From his hands, to his biceps, to his strong thighs. His cock was stunning. It wasn’t the longest cock you had ever seen, but it was deliciously thick, a girth that had you salivating immediately. Not only was it big, but the more you watched, the more you learned he sure knew how to use it. Despite Joel’s brooding nature, his attentive care to his partners on screen was something you had never seen before. He was a talker, a praiser and it seemed he only did scenes in positions where he could see his partners face while they came. The studio lighting was softer, inviting, and very, very intimate.

You clicked through more videos. Joel’s apparent brother, Tommy Miller, was also a big talker, but he reminded you more of a sweet frat boy with some serious golden retriever energy. In simple terms, Tommy liked to pound it. His style seemed more physically intense and fun, lighthearted even. He could do more sensual, intimacy based scenes, but that was more Joel’s forte, you gleaned as you continued to consume their content. Tommy’s cock had an inch or so on his brother, but his cock wasn’t as thick. What it lacked it girth it made up for with how it was curved, and you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to hit that spot inside of you that sent you keening.

The more you watched these two brothers in their element, the damper your flimsy panties grew. It had been so long since you had gotten off while watching porn that you weren’t even sure if you could have a successful orgasm from it. Boy, were you wrong.

Your clit was soon overstimulated and pulsing beneath the soft silicon of your vibrator. You tossed the toy to the side and paused the video while you caught your breath for a few minutes, coming down from your high. A sense of post-orgasmic clarity settled in your mind and something was telling you that working for this channel’s studio might end up being your calling. A wonderful, horny twist of fate. Your ticket back into the industry that had left you both emotionally and physically bruised.

You couldn’t help the gleeful giggle that slipped past your lips the further you scrolled down the channel’s main page, looking for information on Miller-Co’s parent studio, and discovered a link at the bottom: Auditions.

You scrambled to update your resumé, and threw together a portfolio of your past work and clicked on the link. You submitted your application and downed the rest of your wine before closing the screen to your laptop with a decompressing sigh.

No one could say that you didn’t try.

On the other side of town Joel Miller was just closing up the studio for the evening to meet Tommy at their usual watering hole for a drink. His phone buzzed, notifying him that he had a new email and while he walked to his truck, he opened the email.

He had been recently looking for a new film partner outside of his current talent pool. Things were going well at his and Tommy’s boutique adult film studio, they were starting to see growth, and that meant making sure there was regularly fresh content for their growing audience.

Despite receiving 100s of applicants a day from his online posting on his studio’s PornHub channel, none of them were quite what Joel was looking for..until he opened up your application. Joel got a sudden overwhelming feeling in his chest that you were exactly the type of on-screen partner he was looking for. He exited out of the email and sent a quick text to Tommy. Hey, I'm gonna be a few minutes late. Got an applicant that I think will be perfect.

After sending the text to his brother, he opened the email once more. Your resumé was brief, and a noticeable frown crossed over his face when he saw that you were ex-Brazzers. When Joel was 18 and fresh to the industry, he worked for Brazzers. Being so green, he hadn’t known what exactly to expect, so he suffered through in the name of independence and regular pay, but he had hated it, and especially hated the way it made him feel. The culture there had led him to never wanting to partake in making that type of porn again. There was no emphasis on the comfort of his female partners, little to no communication between the actors, and Joel ultimately was uncomfortable with following through with the things he was requested to do. Half the time it didn’t even feel good. And what the hell is the point of making porn if both participants aren’t having fun and feeling pleasure?

For this reason, he felt wrong viewing the content that you had made with Brazzers. Given his prior experience, he could only imagine what you had gone through, and he didn’t want to see you that way. His business was solely based around respect, consent, and comfort as a top priority.

He opted to view your solo amateur content instead. You were a natural, and he knew that he could easily make you a star, if that’s what you truly wanted. Joel knew that mixing pleasure with business, in this industry in particular, could end up messy, but he never felt so physically and emotionally attracted to another human being till now.

His fingers worked fast on the screen as he responded to the email.

Hello,

It’s after working hours for me, but I just went over your application. You’re a natural, and I would be extremely interested in meeting for an official audition. Here is the address to the studio, and my personal work number.

I am off tomorrow, but if you are interested, I can go ahead and schedule a meeting for noon?

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Joel Miller.

He receives an email response from you five minutes later just when he starts the engine of his truck.

Hello Joel,

I would absolutely be interested in coming in for an official audition tomorrow. Noon works for me as well.

See you then!

He lets out a sigh of relief at your response and despite his goal to remain professional, he can’t help the flush that rises to his cheeks at the thought of filming with you. He sends a calendar invite to your email address with the meeting time of noon tomorrow. He tosses his phone into the cup holder and finally drives to the bar.

“She’s ex-Brazzers. Moved all the way from LA just like you and me.” Joel discusses with Tommy over a beer. He takes a sip from the rim and slides his phone across the table to the opposite end of the booth where Tommy is sitting.

“And she’s only been doing solo amateur content as of late?”

“Yeah, she’s only got a few videos up, but it sounds like she’s ready to dip her toe back into the industry. She’s a natural, Tommy. Real captivatin’ on camera.”

Tommy glances down at your application and lightly taps out a bit of ash from his cigarette in the ashtray resting near his elbow. “That so? Well, guess I’m just gonna have to see for myself jus’ how captivatin’ she is.” He looked over at his brother with a knowing grin and pulled out his earbuds from his jacket pocket and slipped them in.

Joel intently observes his brother watching one of your solo films and when he sees Tommy reach down to adjust himself, he couldn’t help but grin.

Tommy’s cheeks have a bright flush to them as he hits pause on the video, taking out one of the earbuds and makes direct eye contact with his brother. “Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous. Those eyes? Brother, I feel like I was being sucked into the screen! God, and her little whimpers? The way they kept gettin’ higher and higher—” Tommy said animatedly.

Joel feels a twinge of jealousy zip up his spine like he was shocked. Tommy’s never been shy, and neither has Joel, but he’s already feeling protective over you and he hasn’t even met you yet. “Yeah, she is a thing of beauty, ain’t she? I don’t know what it is about her, but I love her energy.” Joel comments thoughtfully.

Tommy, being the horndog that he is, can't help but look back down at the screen and the part where the video has paused. Your thighs are spread wide, fingers playing with your clit, teasing yourself while making occasional direct eye contact with the camera. “And god, that pussy? Y’ever see somethin’ so pretty? Bet she tastes like fuckin’ honey.” Tommy drawls.

“Tommy.” Joel snaps his fingers in front of his face in a quick motion. “Don’t go gettin’ too excited now. I’m the one meetin’ with her.” Joel gently reminds him.

“Well, I can see why ya like her so much already, Joel.” He winks and slides the phone back in his direction. “Don’t go gettin’ your panties in a twist. I think just based on this single video, she’s gonna be a good fit. On a serious note, I hope that Brazzers didn’t fuck her up too much.” He reaches for his beer and takes a sip.

“It’s her energy man, it’s infectious. She seems so gentle, soft, but you can tell that she knows exactly what she wants just by looking into her eyes alone.” Joel said rather dreamily.

“Y’gonna give ‘er the ole Joel Miller razzle dazzle then?” Tommy wiggled his eyebrows playfully with a chuckle.

Joel rolled his eyes and flipped him off before taking another sip of his beer. “All depends on her comfort level during our first interaction. I want her to know that she gets to call all the shots.”

Tommy tips his beer towards Joel in a mock salute. “And yet they say chivalry is dead.”

At first you wonder if Miller-Co is just another too good to be true scam and Joel had played you, providing you with the wrong address on purpose. Maybe this was a sign for you to never try studio work in the adult film industry again. You were standing outside of a hardware store, triple checking the address while simultaneously looking up at the sign: Miller-Co

Joel is sitting behind his desk when he sees you teetering around outside. He checks the time on his watch—quarter to noon—and smiles. He’s a punctual person himself and always had this philosophy of showing up earlier than planned out of respect for everyone’s valuable time.

He gets up from his desk and walks towards the door just as you’re turning on your heel to walk away.

The door swings open behind you with a sweet chime, and then you hear the raspy timbre of his voice, his smooth southern accent that already has you feeling weak in the knees.

“Are you my 12 o’clock?” He grins a boyish grin that oozes a level of natural confidence and charm that men dream of possessing.

“Oh.” You laugh and fiddle with the strap on your purse. “I totally thought I had the wrong place for a second there.”

“Sorry ‘bout the confusion, darlin.’ Folks ‘round these parts can be…sensitive to what we’re doing here. Gotta be sure they ain’t have a clue what they’re walkin’ by, be discreet, y’know?” He holds the door open with his shoulder effortlessly, and you get a good look at his handsome features. Joel Miller is tall, well-groomed, and there’s something immediately comforting about him. You can’t quite put your finger on what that thing is, but it might have to do with the selfless energy that radiates from the depths of his soft, espresso colored eyes. Or maybe it’s the endearing heart-shaped patches in his gray speckled beard.

“Oh, thank god!” You laugh again, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, and he chuckles. Something flickers in your eyes that Joel registers as unabashed curiosity. He clocks the slight hitch of your breath, your pupils dilating.

“I take it you’re probably used to dingy warehouses, unkempt garages, and the occasional sketchy office building?” Joel quips. He slips one of his hands into the faded pocket of his denim jeans.

“Yeah, how did you know?” You retort with false sarcasm and a small smile.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Lucky guess?”

“Well, you didn’t not hit the nail on the head, Mr. Miller.”

You swear you see him blush, the tops of his cheeks turning a flushed pink color. “Oh, please, call me Joel, darlin’. Mr. Miller makes me feel so..old.” He laughs and subtly gestures to the open door. “And hope ya don’t mind me sayin’ this, but ain’t you jus’ the sweetest n’ prettiest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on.” He winks. “Shall we?”

“Oh, please, you aren’t old at all, Joel,” you brush away his self deprecation as his compliment leaves you feeling flustered, the heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. “So, your videos weren’t lying then? You really are a sweet talker?” You flirt back.

“Some days I feel like I am, got a bad back and ‘a that. And, oh, I am quite the sweet talker, darlin’.” He holds the door open for you as you slip past him, brushing up against the rough denim of his jeans due to his sheer mass taking up most of the entryway.

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach when your eyes zone in on an all-to familiar black leather couch pressed up against the side of the wall. He notices your immediate discomfort and hesitation and clears his throat alongside you. “We uh—don’t film anythin’ on that, darlin’. It’s there more as a joke than anythin’.”

He sees you visibly let out a sigh of relief as your shoulders relax. You don’t see his face, but his lips are set in a deep frown and he genuinely feels bad. “There’s no leather couches or bright, headache inducin’ lights where I film, darlin’,” he adds softly and steps around you to pull back the chair at his desk.

You’re not even sure what to think or say as he pulls the chair back and you quietly sit down and watch as he sits across from you. “Hey, before we get into talkin’ business, I’m aware that you worked for Brazzers at one point, saw it on the application you submitted, and I jus’ wanted to let you know that me sayin’ ‘lucky guess’ back there was to ease your nerves. I understand what it’s like coming from that world, could tell that you were feelin’ a bit apprehensive, and I didn’t wanna jump right on into discussing your portfolio out in the open, y’know?” He held steady eye contact with you which was something that you normally would be intimidated by, but Joel wasn’t trying to make you feel small, his concern was genuine.

“It’s just been awhile for me since working there, but I appreciate you trying to ease the tension, Joel. I swear I’m not always this jumpy,” you add softly and he smiles.

“S’alright. I understand. I jus’ wanna start off by sayin’ that I want you to be comfortable, darlin’. That’s our first priority. We can film in the studio if you want. Now, personally, I never film here. All feels a bit too sterile for me; got a set up at home to film there. Feels more natural, but if you would rather be here, we can make that work.” He clicks a few buttons on the desktop mouse and pulls up your application so he has it to directly reference.

“Your first priority is that you want me to be comfortable?” The question tumbles past your lips and your pupils are blown wide. In past jobs your comfort was always pushed to the very bottom. It was viewed as insignificant and something that you were told you’d just have to suck up and get over. There was always a limited budget, which meant limited time, which meant little care given to anything other than hard and fast, turn and burn shoot days. And the studio executives cared about little except increasing profits year over year, so time and time again, you’d endured a lack of connection with your scene partners and set crew alike, never more than a quick direction thrown your way. No, comfortable was a far cry from what you were used to.

He’s not taken aback by your response at all. It’s something that he’s all-too familiar with, unfortunately. “Of course, darlin’. That’s the key to makin’ good porn, ain’t it? Both parties gotta be comfortable, otherwise the audience won’t feel connected to what they’re viewin’. All sex sells, but intimacy sells more.”

“I’m just not used to this kind of treatment, Joel. I honestly didn’t even believe that it existed in the adult film industry. The whole notion of comfort above all is just…new for me.”

“I know it is, darlin’,” Joel takes a breath before continuing, “I’m ex-Brazzers, too. Started there when I was 18, and left on my 30th birthday.” This was a piece of Joel’s past that was especially private, it came with baggage he still wasn’t entirely ready to unpack, and yet sharing this with you felt comforting for him.

“Oh my god, did they fire you too?” You lean forward in your chair feeling shocked that someone else in the industry shared the same awful experience as you did.

Joel’s heart shatters when he learns that you were fired. It makes him angry for you and the other women in the industry that were often released from their contracts for frivolous reasons. How could they let someone like you go? You have all the potential in the world with real, raw, talent, and on top of that, you were an absolute knockout. Those motherfuckers had a goldmine with you, and yet they couldn’t see what Joel sees.

“No, darlin’,” he frowns, “they didn’t. My brother and I made the decision to quit on our own. We stayed in LA for awhile with some old costars and made some amateur films before we moved back home to Austin, and started our own studio. I’ve strived to make porn that is catered to women. It’s a market that’s been largely untapped, and I’m lookin’ to shift the industry by showing how profitable it is,” he explains honestly. “And folks deserve to see real sex full of connection and intimacy and even sometimes some bloopers,” he chuckles. “It’s something that I’m incredibly passionate about, and that’s why it’s my utmost priority to make sure that you are respected and feel comfortable.”

You shrink in on yourself when the wave of sudden emotions hit and you don’t even realize your crying till Joel is getting up in a haste with a few tissues in his hand. His eyes are laced with concern as he crouches in front of you. “Hey, I’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean t’make ya cry. I jus’—know how harmful the industry can be, and ‘m tryin’ to build a safe space within it.”

Fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you try to laugh through the tears. You feel pathetic for breaking down in front of this man who you have only just met. He must think you’re a lost cause in the industry if you can’t even hold yourself together for more than five minutes. You sniffle as he gently brings the tissue upwards towards your face and gently brushes away your tears. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to turn into this blubbering fuckin’ mess.”

“Hey, ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, darlin’,” he coos. “Maybe we wanna get outta here for some fresh air? If you’d like? Know a nice quiet coffee shop jus’ down the street. How do you feel about that?”

You look at him through wet lashes and parted lips when you slowly nod. “Uh—yeah. That would..be great. I’m just not exactly comfortable in this environment,” you murmur.

“I understand. No hard feelin’s taken or anythin’. Would you like some help gettin’ up?” He offers you his freehand.

“You’re not..upset?” You question softly and grasp his hand in your palm as he gently helps you up from the chair. His palm is warm against yours and massive in size.

“Upset? No, not at all. I meant it when I said that your comfort is a priority, darlin.’” He affirms.

After you’ve composed yourself a bit, you let Joel lead the way to the quiet coffee shop down the street. He holds the door open for you and lets you pick a secluded table in the back. When you offer to pay for the coffees, he interjects with a small grin and shakes his head. “S’on me, darlin’. G’on now and make yourself comfy,” he nudges you gently towards the table.

It’s a depressing thought to have, but you think about how no man has ever treated you with the kindness and respect that Joel Miller has thus far. It’s the bare minimum, but you appreciate him for it deeply.

He returns with two lattes and places them on the table before taking a seat across from you. “Y’jus’ let me know when and if you wanna continue the conversation, alright? There’s no rush. I ain’t got anywhere else to be.”

You grasp the mug between your palms and let the warm steam wafting from the mug kiss your skin as you look over at him. “Well, I figured it would be okay with me to share with you a list of things I’m not comfortable with?” You lean over the side of the chair and reach into your purse to pull out a folded up piece of paper that you drafted up after submitting the application last night.

He nods and takes a sip of his latte. “Of course that’s okay for you to do. I’ve got a form for you to sign back at the studio that includes a section disclosing your limitations and your personal comforts. We like to keep it on file so we can prepare everyone before shoot day, that way there ain’t any accidental crossed boundaries.” He reaches across the table and gently takes the paper from you.

Despite everything Joel has told you thus far, you’re afraid that he’ll end up being judgemental based on your list. It’s pretty much everything that mainstream porn runs on: bondage, punishment, gang bangs, overstimulation, and anal to name a few. You’re already thinking of getting up from the table, and protecting what’s left of your ego when he sets the paper down, reaches for your hand, gently picks it up and kisses the back of it while looking into your eyes. “This is it? We can absolutely work with this, darlin’. Don’t you worry none,” he reassures you.

His lips against your skin are like two plush pillows. Soft, silky and it’s hard to not imagine what those lips would feel like pressed against either of your own. You expected shame, and instead were greeted with the complete opposite. He validated you, and that alone was making your head spin like a ferris wheel.

“I know you ain’t have any pleasant experiences in the industry, and that’s a damn shame. But I can promise you that you won’t have to worry about none of that with me. Okay, darlin’? Sweet girl, I’m gonna be honest with ya because that’s jus’ the kind of man I am. Y’got some serious talent that I think has been severely overlooked. I can make you into a real star if that’s what you want. I’m simply jus’ actin’ as a guideway for ya. And between you and me? I love my job, and I hope that maybe I’ll be able to turn those bad experiences you had into somethin’ good.”

Your eyes focus on his lips and their movement with each word that flows past them. Neither of you realize how close you’re leaning over the table till you can practically taste the hazelnut latte lingering on his tongue.

“Joel, I swear I heard every word you just said, and please tell me if I’m being unprofessional given the circumstances, but I really want to kiss you right now,” you breathe.

His brow raises and a dimple pokes through his cheek as a grin tugs across the corner of his lips. He chuckles softly, “Well, lucky for you, it’s totally appropriate given the circumstances. Jus’ one of the many perks of bein’ in this industry, darlin’. Unbridled desire is personally one of my favorite things.” He leans in closer, his tone dropping down to an octave that made you tingle with desire, and admits quietly, just for you, “If we weren’t here in this coffee shop right now, I’d show you just how unbridled my desire can be.”

You gripped the edge of the table for dear life. It took everything in you to not rip that man’s clothes off right then and there. That part of you that had laid so dormant was crackling to life again, and he could see those emotions swirling in your eyes. “Maybe we should get those papers signed so that you can show me if you’re really just all talk?” Your brow quirked upwards, mouth lifting into a flirtatious smirk just as his nose brushed against your own.

“Think you’ve seen enough to me to know that I ain’t bluffin’, darlin’.” His hot breath fans your lips as you reach across the table and rest a hand on his shoulder, the other steadying your balance on the table. Joel lifts his hand to your face and gently guides you by your chin. His lips brush yours, testing the waters while your tongue swipes confidently at his lower lip. He surges forward, hand moving from your chin to cup your face where your jaw meets your neck and deepens the kiss. You unconsciously let a soft moan loose, lost in the feeling, and Joel feels his cock come to life at the sound. It’s a good thing the barista behind the counter is too busy watching a YouTube video to see you and Joel practically gorging on each other's faces.

You can feel him smiling against your mouth before he leaves you with a final press of his lips and pulls back, sitting back in his chair, shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he brings his thumb up to the corner of his lips and wipes away a stray strand of saliva. “Think I’m gonna get a little somethin’ to eat. Y’want anythin’?” He rasps and reaches for his wallet in his pocket.

“Yeah.” You grin and rest your chin in your palms. “Something..sweet.”

A flush rises to his cheeks as he stands up from the chair and discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans and you giggle at the sight. You’d think it was his first rodeo by how quickly he had grown hard from just kissing you. Then again, Joel did say that he loved his job. And if he treated the less significant parts of his job like that, you were more than looking forward to seeing, feeling, him do the other parts of his job he loved, too.

You sat in that coffee shop for hours getting to know one another. It felt like no time had gone by at all, and it was obvious that you both were feeling that spark of an immediate connection blossoming. There was no denial that you and Joel were physically attracted to one another, but you had no idea what doors were now opened because of this first meeting. The chemistry was palpable, electricity ricocheting off the walls, and that unspoken language between one another was apparent.

“Hey, Joel? I think I’m ready to sign those forms now,” you spoke, wading through the building sexual tension.

“Perfect.” He grins. “Let’s go n’get ‘em signed.” He pats your thigh gently.

Once you’re back in the studio, Joel goes over every section of the documents and answers every single one of your questions with direct thoughtfulness and professionalism. You can hear your pulse beating in your ears when you sign the last page, clenching your thighs to abate the need growing between your legs.

“Now, there’s no rush to filmin’ anythin’ right away, okay? We don’t gotta dive head first if you wanna go home and process all of this, I completely understand. But, if you’re interested, I can give you my address and we can—”

“How about you drive me to your place instead?” You coyly interjected with a grin.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

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[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 13: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 4)

Summary: Soap takes you to a special place he’s found during your five days at the Cabin. You sit, eat, and talk about your pasts a little bit. Soap opens up more than you expect, and you share some stuff about your past too.

Word Count: 6,511

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, mentions of death, slightly descriptive mentions of death, car accident, trauma, sweet moments

A/N: Time for a little bonding between you and Soap. More to follow ☺️😉 Also, a Taglist has been added! Please comment on if you’d like to be added to it! Thanks for reading 🫶🏻

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 13

The place Soap had in mind for lunch turned out to be absolutely beautiful. A small clearing opened up before you, with a crystal-clear stream winding through it. In one spot, the water pooled gently, forming a small, serene pond. Reeds and wildflowers grew in abundance around the water’s edge, their vibrant colors adding a touch of whimsy to the scene. Only a few trees dotted the clearing, allowing plenty of sunlight to stream through, casting a warm and inviting glow over the area.

The second you walk to the spot, you have to stop to really take it all in. As cliche as it sounded, the spot really was breathing taking. It makes you sad to think that it’s been here the whole time, and you’re just now finding out about this spot on day five.

“Wow…” You breathe, Soap stopping a few steps ahead of you to wait for you to finish taking it all in. “It’s so pretty. How on earth did find this place?” You ask, eyes still trained on the scene ahead as you resume your walking.

“It was the first day we got here. After our big blow up at each other, I went exploring to cool off and just happened to stumble upon it by chance.” He answers. “Come on, the best spot to sit is over here.”

You let him take the lead again, noticing the path you were following looked like it had been walked on before. A lot of the tall grasses and other shrubs were in disarray or broken.

It wouldn’t surprise you if Soap had frequented this place throughout the five days you’ve been here. There were a lot of opportunities for him to get angry and want to storm off somewhere to cool down. This was quite the place to cool down too. You wouldn’t blame him for wanting to come here.

The path Soap was following lead right up the stream. Once you’re right next to him at the edge of the water, Soap glances over at you. “We can cross here. Just be careful cause these rocks can get a little slippery. Especially that speckled one.”

“What? Why are we crossing? Can’t we just stay on this side?” You question him, looking back to the gentle stream. Although it’s not particularly wide or deep, you’d need to take a couple of steps through the water to get across. You notice a few rocks scattered across the stream that could serve as stepping stones, but the prospect of crossing seemed unnecessary.

Soap shrugs a bit. “I mean we could, but there’s a clearing that’s just tall grass right by the water on the other side.” He points out the space he was talking about. “It’s a nice spot. Just trust me.”

You hum softly in thought, debating on if it’s worth the risk of falling in. It wasn’t like the stream would sweep you away or you’d drown—it’d just make for a cold, soggy walk back to the cabin. Even then, it was quite warm out today, so there was a good chance you wouldn’t even be that cold.

You go back and forth in your mind for a little longer before just giving in and agreeing. “Alright.” You sigh. “Better be super worth it, cause I’m risking falling in for it.”

Soap huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “States, if a big muscular guy like me can cross without falling in, I’m sure someone as slim and nimble as you can make it without a problem.

You gasp and dramatically slap a hand over your chest. “Wow, slim and nimble? I think that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me.” You tease, making Soap roll his eyes.

“I’ve complimented you plenty of times.” He grumbles as he turns to face the stream. He begins to cross the stream, his step placement confident looking. You can tell that he’s done this a few times now. Either that or the rocks were that slippery.

“Saying shit like, ‘you didn’t suck as much today’ does not count.” You call after him, watching as he shifts his weight so that he’s standing on two rocks.

He looks back at you, his brows pinched slightly and an indignant look on his face. “That totally counts.” He insists.

“That’s a back handed compliment at best.” You argue back, folding your arms over your chest as you watch him.

He raises a brow at you, almost mockingly. “Still a compliment though. And besides, that’s how all of us compliment each other.”

You can’t deny that. The 141 boys did have a habit of tossing around quips more than actual praise. Gaz was the exception. He didn’t do it as often, but even he had his moments. Still, you’ve received genuine compliments from Price when it was just the two of you, and Gaz gave them to you quite a bit. Ghost hardly ever did, but that was just Ghost.

“I’ve gotten real compliments from the others before.” You counter, finally stepping forward to place your foot on the first rock.

“Even Ghost?” Soap retorts, holding out his hand to help you balance while you get your footing. You take it, wobbling a bit until you get your other foot placed. Once you have your balance, you let go of Soap’s hand.

“Ghost doesn’t count. You’d be lucky if he insulted you.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that.” Soap laughs a little bit, easily stepping across the remaining stones and getting to the other side without a problem. He didn’t even so much as wobble.

You follow after him, holding out your arms to the side a bit to help you balance. You managed to get across though without falling in. It wasn’t that difficult to cross; the rocks were flat enough and they really weren’t too wet. The second your feet hit the grass on the other side, Soap is giving you a slow clap.

“Good job. You crossed and didn’t fall in. Gold star. How’s that for a compliment?” He teases, getting an eye roll.

“Oh fuck off.” You groan, giving him a shove. Soap laughs as you push him away, his arms coming up to shield himself as he stumbles a little away from you. “Just go back to not complimenting me. I think it was better that way.”

“If you insist.” He laughs. “Just remember that you told me that the next time you start whining about how I never say anything nice.”

Soap starts to lead the way once more, walking you over to the spot he’d been so insistent on going to. True to his word, it’s right by the water, nestled on a tiny mound that offers a perfect view of the stream below. A small waterfall that feeds into the pond adds a soothing backdrop of sound. The tall grass around the area is flattened, clear evidence that Soap has visited this place at least once before.

When you get there, Soap steps into the center of where all the grass is flattened and begins to stomp a little more down more around the edges to make room for you to sit. Once he’s done, he steps over to one side and motions for you to get comfortable in the spot he’s just made.

“There we go. Have a seat.” He says, dropping the backpack from his shoulders and setting it down in the grass before sitting himself.

You sit down slowly, surprised by how soft the grass feels beneath you. Being so close to the water, it’s lush and cool, not dried out or prickly like you’d expected. You could honestly take a nap here.

“I still can’t get over how beautiful it is out here. So different from base and deployments.” You say once you’re settled in.

The military base you were currently stationed at, like most others, was dominated by neutral tones and dark green colors. It was a familiar sight—most bases you’d been to had a similar aesthetic. The ones in America were mostly concrete and equipment, with gray dominating the landscape. The base you're at now does have patches of grass, but they’re poorly maintained, with dirt paths worn into them from the constant foot traffic of soldiers.

Then of course when it came to your deployments, half the time you went to places where it was mostly desert. If you did go to a place with a lot of natural greenery, then it was normally so war torn, with uprooted trees, tank tracks, and pits that people dug or ones created by frags, that it wasn’t very enjoyable. The other scenario was you were in a beautiful place but couldn’t enjoy it because you were being shot at.

This was a rare treat. The sounds of nature, no war in sight, no needing to be on high alert for snipers. Just time to sit back and enjoy the beauty of the world you hardly got to see. Even if at first this unscheduled vacation seemed like a death sentence, you were learning to enjoy it. At the very least, you could take back snippets of moments like this.

“Yeah,” Soap hums softly from where he’s seated. “It reminds me a little of Scotland.”

You glance over at him, taking notice of the faint smile on his face as he looks around at the little grassy meadow. He was thinking about his motherland. His home. There’s a longing in his eyes that you’d have to be blind to miss.

“How so?” You venture, wanting to hear more about where he came from. You were sure that Soap, ever the proud Scotsman, would have no problem gushing about Scotland. And you were right. The second the question leaves your lips, he seems to light up.

“All this lush, rolling grass, the gentle breeze, the fresh air, and the sound of the stream—it reminds me of the Highlands and the woods by my childhood home. We lived right outside of town, and our house sat on a hill, giving us the best view of the open land. Behind us, there were miles and miles of woods, covered in moss, with a stream running through it. It was bigger than this one, but the feel of it… it’s the same.”

He pauses, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he continues. “I spent so much time out there when I was a wee laddie. From sunup to sundown, I was always outside. My friends and I would climb trees, play all sorts of game, build forts. In the stream, we would stack rocks to build dams and splash around when it was warm.”

You laugh softly, smiling at the thought of a young, rowdy John MacTavish playing in the woods. It was something you could easily picture. “No wonder you’re so knowledgeable about bears and stuff.”

Soap shrugs a little bit. “We don’t have bears in Scotland. The most dangerous animals out where I was were boars and red deer. I learned all that stuff about bears when I was deployed in Russia.”

“Well regardless, it sounds like you were quite the forest dweller as a child.”

Soap laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Aye, I was. I went to the woods for everything. My favorite spot was that stream though. I’d go out there by myself and sit by the water, letting it wash away whatever was on my mind. It was always my go to place when I was sad, angry, or just needing to clear my head. It always made me feel better.”

Soap pauses a moment, a little huff of a laugh leaving him as he recalls some story on his mind. “Like the time I first learned I’d no longer be an only child. When my mum and dad told me I was gonna have a little sister, I was so pissed. Took off right out the back door and spent hours out there.”

You laugh softly, but your eyebrows are raised in surprise. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

His files made no mention of his family, though you suppose they wouldn’t have anyway. Information like that was kept almost as secure as launch codes. Still, you always pictured Soap as an only child.

“Yeah, fucking three of them.” He huffs, which surprises you even further. “Eilidh (AY-lee), Rowan, and Kirsten.”

“Damn, MacTavish. I never would have pictured you growing up with three girls.” You smirk, and he returns it, amused himself.

“That’s exactly what Gaz said too.” Soap muses, leaning back a little now and stretching his legs out in front of him. A much more relaxed posture. “So what about you, Stateside? You have any siblings growing up?”

A smile tugs at your lips as the faces of your brother and sister flash through your mind. “An older brother and a younger sister. My brother was adopted from South Korea, and his name is Kim and my sister’s name is Rozlin.”

It was Soap’s turn to be surprised now. “Huh, I always pictured you as the youngest, not a middle child.”

“And why is that?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t say cause we said we’d be nice to each other.” He’s dodging the question, but he still answered your question without answering it.

“That’s such an older brother thing to say.”

Soap chuckles softly at your response, and the conversation pauses for a moment. There’s a few beats of silence, Soap seeming to be lost in his thoughts. He gazes back to you shortly though, changing the topic.

“You miss America and being home with them? It’s gotta hard being in a completely different country than the rest of your family.”

You hum softly, a slight frown on your face. It has been a while since you’ve seen your siblings— about a year now. You were sadly used to not seeing much of them anymore now though. Being in the military for a few years now, you didn’t get to be home often with them. You only really saw them on holidays or through FaceTime calls. The last time you’d seen them was through such a call before you’d transferred overseas. The last time in person had been for a sadder event you didn’t want to currently think about.

“Yeah…” You trail off, trying to find a way to explain your feelings to Soap’s question.

Soap frowns as you trail off, his expression going from light and playful to a touch more serious. “You don’t miss home?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head. “I do. I mean, America is my home, and I will always love my siblings. But this life changes you. I can never go back to being a civilian, and it’s like the life I had in America before the military is one I will never have again.”

Soap hums softly, his brows slightly furrowed as he listens. “I get it. A bit of a love-hate relationship.”

“Exactly.” You sigh, a slightly sad smile on your face. “It’s hard to get us all together anyway. Kim also joined the forces, I’m in special-ops now, and last I knew, Rozlin is thinking of joining too.”

“Wow, quite the military family.” Soap chuckles. “Your parents must be proud.”

There it was. The moment those words leave Soap’s lips, a sharp pang of loss hits you, squeezing your heart. You smile sadly at the thought of your parents, trying to push the emotions down. “They were.” You nod, trying to keep it short, but Soap’s curiosity was piqued.

“Were?” He asks slowly, making you sign. Gently, you start to pick at the blades of grass around you, trying to get the words out.

“My… My parents died like a year ago. I guess closer to a year and a half now.” You bite the inside of your cheek, continuing to pick at the grass, but also watching out of the corner of your eye as Soap sits up more.

“Oh God… States, I’m so sorry to hear that.” He says, frowning at you.

“It’s fine. Really. I mean, I’ve have time to process it.” You try to give him a smile to let him know you really were alright, but your eyes still held the sadness of losing someone you love.

The news of their death had been a complete shock to you. Your Sergeant at the time had called you into his office in the middle of a drill one morning to break the news to you. It didn’t sink in right away. You’d denied their death the entire flight back to your hometown. It was only when you entered the funeral hall, and your sister came running to you, her body trembling with sobs as she buried her face in your shoulder, that the weight of the loss finally hit you.

That was the last time you’d been under the same roof with both of your siblings. It was the last time you’d been to your childhood hometown. The last time you’d stepped foot in your childhood home.

“Can I asked what happened?” Soap asks softly, breaking you away from your thoughts.

“Car accident. Drunk driver. Going too fast and hit them head on.” You pick at a few more blades of grass, trying your hardest to fight back tears. God how much you still resented that other driver. The one who got to live.

Soap sighs, looking down and not saying anything for a moment as he takes in what you’ve just told him. “That’s horrible.” He finally says after a moment. “I… I know what’s it like. My uh… my mum also died in a car accident when I was young.” He says slowly, and you instantly look over at him.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through something like that.” You say gently, resting a hand on his knee. You can feel your heart breaking for him. “How did… what happened?” You ask gently, not wanting to dig too much if it was a hard topic for him.

“Don’t really know.” Soap says, looking down at your hand on his knee. “She went out for something in the next town over and never came back. The next morning, they found her car had swerved off road and smashed into a tree. She wasn’t speeding, she didn’t do drugs, wasn’t drinking. Probably alive after she hit the tree and bled out…”

He clears his throat, his eyes instantly becoming glossy. Growling a little, he sniffs and wipes at one of his eyes. “Still not over it.” He chuckles, trying to hide his hurt. “That day changed everything for me. My mum was the kindest and most incredible woman...”

He trails off again, his voice wavering near the end. He was clearly struggling. You give his knee a reassuring squeeze, but he doesn’t look back at you. He keeps his focus trained on the ground.

“Could you tell me about her?” You ask softly. A small smile flickers on Soap’s face, just barely noticeable. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then nods slowly. You can see him steady himself before he starts to speak.

“She was the most loving, understanding person you could ever meet,” Soap begins, his voice softening. “It’s hard to put into words who she was, but everything about her just… beautiful.” His eyes grow distant as he speaks, gaze drifting toward the stream once more. He’s caught up in some kind of memory, one you don’t wish to interrupt.

A moment later, he shifts his gaze back to you. “You remember that story I told you earlier? About how I ran into the woods when I found out I was getting a sister?”

You nod.

“Well, it was my mum who came and found me afterwards. She always knew exactly what to do to make me feel better. I remember she brought me some shorties, which were my absolute favorite. They still are, I love those things.” Soap chuckles softly before continuing with his story.

“We didn’t talk right away. She just sat with me, and we listened to the water together. Just the two of us. It’s funny, I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, but I remember we talked until the sun went down. And when we got home, she tucked in and told me, ‘John, no matter what, you’ll always be my boy. You’ll always have a place in this family, and no one can take that from you.’ She told me that having a sister wouldn’t change that, and that being a big brother meant having someone who’d look up to me, someone I could protect.”

His voice softens as he adds, “She taught me that love wasn’t something that got divided—it just grew. That stuck with me. Made me feel better about everything. Like I wasn’t losing anything but gaining something special.

Whenever I think about home, my home before my dad met Annette and remarried, or when I see something like this stream, I think of her. I’d give anything to sit and talk with her by the stream at home again. Just one more time.”

When he finishes, you’re left utterly speechless. His recollection about his mother is so touching, so sweet, and so heartfelt—nothing like the Soap you knew. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even around the other members of the 141.

Your heart aches for him, the pain in his words is palpable, and you can see it in his eyes as he gazes longingly at the flowing water. You never imagined that you and Soap would share such a traumatic loss. In a strange way, it makes you feel closer to him. You’re touched that he would share something so personal with you. Something that made him vulnerable.

Without you even realizing it, a single tear slides down your cheek. You only notice it when Soap brushes it away. His touch pulls you back to the present, and you focus on his eyes, which hold tears of their own. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes expressing an understand.

His thumb lingers on your cheek for just a second longer, his touch gentle. When he finally pulls his hand back, the corners of his mouth twitch into a small, bittersweet smile. The silence between you feels heavy, but not uncomfortable—more like a shared space where words aren’t necessary.

You take a deep breath, looking back to the stream, able to image John and his mother sitting there. “Your mother sounds like she was a real treasure.” You feel like your words aren’t enough. There’s nothing you can say to tell Soap how saddened you are by hearing about the loss of this mother. How great she sounded.

It’s enough to bring a smile to Soap’s face though. The longing is still in his eyes, but you know it’s a look that will never fully go away. But there’s also something else there too—a glimmer of happiness. Pride that you think his mother is just an incredible as the way he’s described her.

“I’m sure your parents were just as loving and incredible as my mum was.” Soap says softly. “They raised one hell of daughter.”

His words hit you hard, much harder than you expected. You’re brought to tears once more, watching them quickly well up in your line of sight, and you need to bite your cheek to keep from breaking down. Soap’s words touched your heart. You can’t be more grateful for them, but are unable to express the true extent of their impact. All you can manage to a nod and choked out, “thank you…”

Soap’s smile is gentle, understanding. He reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze back just as tightly, silently supporting each other as you listen to the slow rush of water from the stream.

Soap holds your hand the entire time you look out to the water together. A pleasant silence falls between you, but Soap eventually breaks it, letting go of your hand as he does.

“We should eat, huh?” He chuckles, his tone a tough lighter now. You’re almost relieved though to move on to something else. There was only so much you could take talking about death.

“Yeah, yeah, we should.” You agree, watching as Soap turns to grab the backpack. He unzips and starts to rifle through its contents. “What’s on the menu for today?” You ask, trying to peak over into the bag to see what he’s grabbed.

“Today, we have a fine selection of…” He pulls out two MREs. “Homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken and homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken.” He lists, pausing between pulling each one out and holding them up for you to see.

You make a face, wanting to gag at what was probably the most unappetizing MRE there is. To be fair, it wasn’t horrible. If you were in a pinch, starving out in the middle of nowhere, freezing while you huddled under a tent in the middle of a downpour, or had eaten the same thing for a week straight, it would taste incredible. But currently, not starving, dry, and having eaten nothing but bland foods for the past five days, it sounded horrible.

“We didn’t have anything else?” You ask, wondering why he’d grabbed what he most likely also thought was the most bland and boring MRE kit there was.

Soap gives you a small shrug. “We’ve gone through every other MRE except this one. We’ve got one beef ravioli and one jalapeño beef patty left, but those were the last of the decent ones. I thought we might want to save them for tomorrow, so we don’t have to eat this mush for the rest of our time here.” He explains, handing the unappealing, brown packaged meal over to you.

You scowl down at it. “I think I’d almost rather starve than eat this.” You admit, turning the package over and inspecting it in disdain.

“It’s better when you have hot sauce you can put on it.” Soap says, already tearing open his kit and dumping the contents out.

You reluctantly open yours, but not before giving him a look. “Hot sauce in what is essentially chicken noodle soup? That sounds disgusting.”

Soap shrugs. “It gives it something interesting besides just blandness.” He says matter-o-factly, pausing in tearing open his food to dig back through the backpack. He comes up with your canteens and hands you yours. You can heat up your food with it and make the broth.

“I’ll keep that it mind.” You really have no intention of trying the weird mixtures he’s suggesting though. Hopefully, though unrealistically, you’d never have to eat this MRE again.

Resigning yourself to the unappetizing lunch in front of you, you tear open the MRE with a resigned sigh, already dreading the bland taste you know is coming. As you work on opening the package and sorting all the different packets, you glance back at Soap. “So, when did you join the force?” you ask, genuinely interested in learning more about Soap’s past, but also eager for the distraction from the meal.

“I joined when I was eighteen. Tried to enlist before then by lying about my age, but they figured it out and rejected my application.” Soap says, which makes you giggle. It sounded like something he would do.

“Excited about joining I see.” You muse, watching as Soap carefully pours water into the heating pouch and slides the meal packet inside. He props it against the backpack to let it heat up.

“Yeah… something like that.” He mutters, his tone seeming to shift just the slightest bit. It was enough to make you pause, but he continues on. “But I got in at eighteen. I was selected for the 22nd Regiment.”

You nod a little bit, deciding to brush off his brief shift in tone for now. “So what did you do in the 22nd?” You ask, filling your own heating pouch to get your food warm. All you really knew about the 22nd Regiment was that it some British infantry group.

“I was a part of an elite squadron that specialized in stuff like covert reconnaissance, counter-terrorism, and hostage rescues.” He explains, watching as you filled the bag up and prep it. Once it’s ready, he motions for you to give it to him, and he sets it up against the backpack next to his. “I did eight years there and then when I was twenty-six, I was doing training in Hereford, and Price was the evaluator. He saw a lot of potential in me or something, pushed me in my training, and when selection came, I passed. Was in the SAS after that. Youngest candidate to ever pass selection.”

You knew that about him already. It’d been in his file. You remember reading his file on the plane ride over to their base and being so impressed. He hadn’t just scraped by either, he got the highest marks possible on each phase of the test.

“I remember reading that in your file on the flight over.” You smile. “Made it all the more intimidating to join the team. Had one guy who was youngest to join the SAS, one whose entire file was reacted due to the work he did, a highly decorated Sergeant, and a seasoned Captain.”

Soap laughs softly at that. “Yeah, still didn’t keep you away, though.” Soap teases, earning himself an eye roll and a gentle shove.

It makes him laugh even more, and it’s strange to hear him joke about something like that for once. Normally when he made comments about stuff like wanting you to leave or wishing you hadn’t joined, he meant it. This time he seemed like he was joking. There was no hidden edge to his words.

“I had to sign the contract before they let me read up about you guys.” You joke back, playing along. Though that was true, you really did have to sign a contract first. You weren’t allow much information about the team unless you agreed to go. The only thing they really informed you about was the basic role of the position you’d be taking.

“We got your file the second you signed up.” Soap says, checking on his food by touching the back of his hand to the bag. His food must have been warm enough cause he starts to take it out of the heating pack. “Didn’t even really know we were getting another person until Price dropped it all in front of us at a meeting. Had only a few days to get ready for you.”

That was new information to you. You figured the guys would have known they were getting someone new long before you signed on. At the same time though, it made sense. It was safer to keep information like that between only a few people, and with the enemies you knew your current Task Force has made over the years, it was probably good not to have word get out they were growing the team.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you notice Soap is handing you your meal bag. He mutters a, “here” and you take it from him.

“Oh, thanks.” You mumble back, touching the bag carefully to make sure it was warm enough. It felt decent enough to eat, so you pulled it out of the bag.

As you do that, Soap has already getting his open and is looking back to you. “So, where were you stationed before joining us? I know it was in your file somewhere, but I forgot.” Soap continues on in conversation, mixing his food a bit.

“The Green Berets.” You answer, pulling the rip-strip on the top of the food pouch. The smell of chicken hits you instantly, and the sight of the noodles is already unappealing. “Outside of basics and the platoon I was assigned to, I’ve been with them my whole career. Until now of course with transferring to a Task Force.”

Soap hums softly as he listens to you and takes his first bite of the chicken veggie noddle MRE. Watching him eat it makes you shutter, though he seemed unbothered.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Soap mutters through a mouthful of food, his words come out muffled as he chews. He doesn’t bother to finish chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “Did some training with them back in the day.”

You wrinkle your nose in distaste, watching as he continues to take another bite of the noodles. He hadn’t even finished his first bite before adding another one. You never really noticed the way he ate until now.

“You know, the chicken noodles are bad enough on their own. You really don’t need to make it worse by talking with your mouth full.” You frown.

Soap chuckles at you, though he at least swallows before speaking again. “At least I’m eating it. You haven’t even touched yours.” He points towards your untouched meal bag with his spoon.

You glance down at the bag of unappetizing noodles and sigh. “Can you blame me? This stuff is revolting.”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite. “Come on, it’s not that bad. The faster you eat it, the sooner you’ll be done suffering.”

You can't argue with that logic. As much as you hate to admit it, Soap has a point. The faster you got the food down, the sooner it’d be over, and the less you would taste. It wasn’t like you weren’t capable of eating fast either. Back in bootcamp, you only had five minutes to eat sometimes. So you were more than capable of shoveling it down, you just preferred not to eat that way.

Sighing to yourself, shoulders sagging, you reluctantly scoop up a small bite and force it into your mouth. The taste isn’t terrible, just bland, but the texture is what gets you. A shudder runs through you as you chew, and you can’t help but gag slightly as the mushy noodles slide down your throat.

The whole time you struggle through the bite, Soap watches with wide eyes, his expression shifting between horror and concern. When you finally swallow and chase the taste with a swig of water, he shakes his head. “Steamin' Jesus, that was fucking painful to watch.” He mutters.

You shutter once more, the sensation of the food sliding down your throat lingering for a moment. “I’d rather eat a raw fish from the lake we bathe in than finish this.” You complain, scowling down at the still very full bag.

Soap lets out a small huff that resembles a laugh as he turns back to his soggy noodles. “We could probably go fishing and catch a few. Cook them over the fire instead of eating them raw like some deranged woodsperson.”

Your eyes widen, and you snap your head toward him so fast it nearly startles him. “Could we really do that?!” you ask, barely containing your excitement.

You have been eating MREs or bread for the past fives days for every meal. Cooking fish, real food, instead of eating the bland, processed, and sometimes unidentifiable sludge that somehow passes for a meal in those packets would be a welcome change.

Soap still looks a little shocked, blinking at you before nodding his head slowly. “Uh, yeah.. it’s really not that hard to go fishing.” He answers slowly, and his confirmation just makes you more excited.

“Why the hell haven’t we been fishing this entire time?! Can we go fishing? Please?”

“Well…” Soap hesitates. “I mean we’d have to take the time to make some spears, and then you need to descale them and take all the bones out, and-“

“We can do those things.” You argue, your voice hopeful.

“What are you gonna season the fish with? And what about this stuff?” He holds up his half-eaten MRE. “We just gonna waste it?”

You huff, sitting back slightly. “We can use salt, cause I know we have that back at the cabin. I saved some packets from a different MRE in case of emergency. And really? There is no way that you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you’d rather eat that disgusting shit instead of fresh fish. I know you’d have no problem with tossing that for real food.”

You both stare at each other, neither one of you moving or blinking. Soap is stubbornly holding his ground, but you know him well enough to know he hates what he’s eating too. He just toying with you.

When you raise an eyebrow at him expectantly, it breaks him. He lets out a huff, a smirk quickly forming on his face. “Yeah, alright. This is pretty fucking disgusting.” He agrees with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure my stomach was gonna reject it if I tried to take another bite.”

“Does this mean we’re gonna go fishing?” You ask, a grin quickly spreading across your face.

Soap looks at you, his expression softening in a way that sends a flutter through your chest. His lips curve into a relaxed smile, his shoulders loosening as the tension eases from his posture. His stunningly blue eyes, usually so guarded and intense, are soft and filled with a mix of warmth and something deeper—a tenderness that catches you off guard. Affection?

“Yeah, we can go fishing.” Soap laughs, his voice light with amusement, the gentle look in his eyes lingering.

Your excitement bubbles over, pushing aside any further analysis of his gaze. With a grin, you quickly seal up your MRE, stow your water bottle, and begin packing. “Oh God, it’s gonna taste so good. I can already smell it cooking.” You ramble on, earning a laugh from him as he starts to pack up as well.

After everything is packed away and the backpack is zipped, Soap stands and slings it onto his shoulder. By the time he’s fully upright, you’ve already taken off. He watches as you practically bound off towards the part of the stream where you crossed earlier. He watches you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips, then shakes his head before hurrying to catch up.

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll

[sandsoftide]

Haven’t seen enough people talking about why timebomb and specifically ekko also suffered from arcane s2 being bad. Spoilers and crit

I’ll say more in depth later when I have gone back and revisited it with a clearer head and let me make it entirely clear I LIKE timebomb in concept. Much like caitvi. Like I see the vision I just don’t like a lot of the creative choices

Ekko in s1 was a REVOLUTIONARY he built the firelights w his own two hands and was sort of a foil to jinx and silco, he hated them but he wasn’t going to roll over to piltover either. He wanted independence but not through exploitation. He was a leader and a caretaker and mature beyond his years bc he was forced to be. And he hates Jinx bc she reminds him of that trauma and he’s betrayed by what she became like there’s SO much there look at it

In s2 he goes “hm my tree is being weird” and then gets sucked into the timey wimey thing and disappears for a whole act and the firelights aren’t even MENTIONED (and ik he wasn’t a major character in s1 either but like, he was still important and relevant to the plot throughout bc of the firelights?)

Then he gets sucked into this au portal (cool concept and cool execution) and falls in love with powder or whatever. And she ISNT JINX. SHE IS NOT THE JINX WE KNOW BC JINX IN MAIN TIMELINE IS FULLY BUILT FROM HER EXPERIENCES AND TRAUMA AND MENTAL ILLNESS. Like what Jayce said to viktor that’s part of her whether it hurts her or not. Her trauma doesn’t define her but it’s a part of her! And then all of a sudden Ekko’s sad bc he misses jinx (who iirc last time he met they had the whole I hate you and I miss you talk and they fought and both thought the other dead or whatever?) and then he’s talking her off the ledge even though he has absolutely no reason to! Because he DOESNT KNOW HER he knows literally nothing she’s done since s1 finale!!! Even the “jinx as a symbol for revolution” stuff from act 1 that went nowhere he would know NOTHING ABOUT bc he basically immediately went to Jayce? And they never did the revolutionary jinx stuff that was implied w the flag waving either so there’s no connection there either

Like a full episode was spent developing timebomb and it was interesting but also contributed nothing bc that is not jinx. She just feels like a mpdg and he doesn’t feel like ekko bc he needs to be in love w her for the plot? So they do absolutely nothing interesting they could for timebomb and still make it the entirety of ekko’s plot while tossing out the firelights and the zaun v. Piltover plotline as a whole

i mean again its hard to say bc this is right. objectively. like the stuff w timebomb was objectively well written. i just feel like it doesnt give ekko the space to be his own character outside of the ship? my point isnt that the stuff was poorly written i actually enjoyed it a lot and i think they did a good job w it i just also feel like it does ekko a disservice to have that be his only plotline and how it doesnt feel like it connects to his character in s1

i feel similarly about other plots in s2, like mel's. like yes this is good stuff! i love seeing mel in the spotlight the black rose magic stuff is interesting in a vacuum but also its totally separate from the interesting thematic roles in s1 that dealt with AGAIN THE CLASS CONFLICT AND POLITICS and dropping that for something different feels. like its a disservice to the characters, i guess?

also by having the timebomb development take place primarily in an au with powder and NOT jinx we dont really get to see jinx's thoughts at all. it feels like a repeat of s1 where someone is trying to save POWDER and not jinx, they dont see her as who she is now but rather who she was or could have been. which couldve been interesting to explore but they clearly werent interested in that ANYWAYS

[blues-valentine]

This is my last post about it. OBX 4 wasn’t just bad in terms of JJ but all characters in general.

The writers, knowing they’d kill JJ off, started a character assassination train on him perhaps expecting us to feel like he deserved to die? But we know JJ. We all know JJ’s reckless but not to this level of detachment. He was acting like an entirely different person. JJ would’ve never treated Kiara, John B or any of his friends like that. Ever. Not matter how bad life turned out. Even with the whole “JJ blew all of our money!” it’s like they wanted us to hate him so badly.

Don’t even get me started on how bad that JJ plot twist was and since Part 1 I said it. Trying to erase his entire life like that even when it didn’t make sense was lazy writing. And all for what? To have his biological father be the one to kill him at the end? Because that’s the only possibly cruel explanation for that plot twist.

Killing JJ in such a way when this character spent his entire life suffering physical and emotional abuse from his adoptive father is cruel and it sends such a sad messaging.

OBX has always been bad at giving the girls good story lines and that aren’t always about their boyfriends. Kiara’s relationship with her parents was totally ignored. We got from them cutting her off at 401 to them clapping for her at the ceremony and we never got to know how they reached that place. Did they go to family therapy in those 18 months? Did they talk and came to an agreement together? But nothing.

Cleo didn’t get to have a story line that wasn’t mostly adjacent to Pope. And for a character that’s been here for 3 seasons we only know she worked for Terrance and it’s good with knifes. We don’t know her actual surname. And I was expecting more from her revenge plot and I feel silly for expecting that from those writers.

Sarah’s PTSD regarding Ward was never further explored. The writers also forgot about Wheezie and Rose. Sarah wouldn’t have continued on without trying to reach out to her. It’s like they just didn’t want to deal with it. And the worst one is them making Sarah say she didn’t feel ready for a family at her age for them to forget about it and have her pregnant. Despite how silly it is considering the circumstances of their life and how much trauma she has to heal from.

Don’t even get me started on the way the writers never explored the girls relationship. The only bonding scene between the girls we got was Sarah telling Kiara she’s pregnant and Cleo wasn’t even there. We never saw them just existing as young girls just joking around. Hell; even a whole boys conversation would feel somehow natural and we didn’t even got that.

Pope is a killer now? And by the influence of Cleo not less. Did the writers forgot about Season 3? And how she was the one that stopped him from killing Rafe. So, now you’re telling me she was the one egging him on to become a killer. Make it make sense please.

And the pogues dynamic was so bad. God, it was so out of character for them all. Firstly, John B would’ve never allowed JJ to walk into that self destructive path especially after learning about Chandler. And then, the way JJ confessed to Pope he was sucidical and he just didn’t say anything about it? Kiara was also incredible out of character. And that death scene was particularly dumb in so many levels, because it could’ve been preventable and it was pointless. But the thing that pisses me off the most is that the pogues stood there watching. In a scene that felt perhaps a bit anticlimactic. “Not pogue gets left behind” but they buried him on a desert in Morocco and had Rafe be the one to dig the hole too. Those are not my pogues and this wasn’t the dynamic I feel in love with. OBX went from being a comfort show to give me so much unnecessary frustrations.

[sunrise-imagines]

I have a big fat crush on Simon and Finn would you please do some hcs for either of them

Since I’ve already done some for Finn, I think now is a good time to write a little for Simon! Watching him become the latest Tumblr Sexyman™️ has been a dream come true.

*Ending contains spoilers for the last two episodes of Fionna and Cake*

TW: Trauma (this is Simon “‘My fiancé turned into a cosmic deity’ ‘That’s rough buddy’” Petrikov we’re dealing with), mentions of Depression, hurt/comfort

Simon Petrikov x Reader General Relationship Headcanons

• Oh boy, this one’s a doozy.

• Please be patient with him. He is a mess of a person currently, still dealing with the grief of losing Betty and feeling like he doesn’t belong in Ooo no longer being magic. He gets so wrapped up in his sadness that he can neglect the relationships he has in the present. This gets much better after the ending though.

• Self care days are a must, please just pamper this man with a nice hot bath and a massage every once in a while.

• Really good cook, he loves making food for you and it makes him feel like he can actually take care of you.

• He worries about you a lot, especially if you’re someone that likes to take risks and do dangerous stuff.

• He’s a big nerd so he gets excited if you share interests in stuff like science and literature.

• Although he doesn’t like to go on life-threatening adventures (Finn), he still loves the exploring the outdoors and the two of you regularly go for hikes around the safer parts of Ooo.

• Will be very happy if you also have a good friendship with Marceline, seeing his partner and adoptive daughter interact touches his heart.

• Such a simp for you, like if you ask him for anything he will make it his mission to fulfill your request

• His love language is definitely words of affirmation. He needs you to tell him how much you care about him and he loves saying the same to you. He could go on for hours about every little thing he loves about you.

• Marcy and Bonnie will come over for dinner a few times a week, sometimes joined by Finn and HW as well.

• He hates celebrating his own birthday (he’s turning 60) but he loves yours and will definitely bake you a cake and throw small birthday party for you. The party only consists of a few close friends but if you don’t like parties he’s perfectly fine with it being just the two of you.

• At first he wasn’t sure if you would even want to date an old man like him, but as time went on he became more confident in himself and that he deserves love just as much as anyone else, and he’s more than happy to share that love with you.

Bonus!

• Despite her current state, GolBetty is immensely happy seeing Simon finally able to move on and be happy.

• Even if they never got their happy ending, the fact that you and him are able to live happily together brings her peace, and she trusts you to take care of him.

[aihoshiino]

Wow ONK sure had an ending and I think my main Issue with it is honestly the fact that it feels like every character is back at square one last chapter, until this chapter when Akane narrates to us how „actually everyone is ok and moved on“ and we‘re just supposed to? Accept this? Ok (shrugs)

And also the fact I feel like much of its themes didn’t reach a satisfying conclusion like what it means to live a life of lies/lying in general and (the focus of this last chapter) what to do with your life and how to live it.

We see all the characters magically moving on and being fine which is like, yea, good (ignoring the terrible execution) but? Why was? Aqua? The male lead/protagonist of much of the story? Not allowed to do that? Why can’t he move on from any of his trauma, sadness, suicidal tendencies and the idea his life has less value than those of others? Why can’t he get better? I hope it’s kinda understandable what I mean, this isn’t a „Why can’t my fave character be happy“ thing I‘m trying to get at but more so a „I think the themes could‘ve been explored way better in terms of his character and I‘m disappointed it wasn’t.“ I feel like I‘m missing something but it really just feels like the story is telling us that Aqua was right in believing this self imposed lie that the only value in his life is to die (so his sister gets to be in the spotlight for the final chapters)

Idk just leaves a really bitter taste in my mouth the way they handled Aqua‘s mental health/state and suicide

Honestly yeah, it feels like everyone is just kind of circling a Character Development Cul-de-sac. Sometimes recovery does mean taking a few steps back before you can go forwards but this feels less like a depiction of the natural and inevitable unevenness of healing after trauma and more like Akasaka just, like. Didn't have an end point in mind for anyone's arcs apart from Aqua lol. AND EVEN THEN, IT'S... YEAH.

I said this in a previous ask but I think if the story was more willing to frame Aqua's death as him relapsing in his recovery and ultimately succumbing to his suicidal ideation & survivor's guilt, I think that could be not just cathartically tragic but quite an important message to send - that, unfortunately, yeah. Long term suicidal ideation really can just catastrophically consume someone even if they're actively looking forward to and taking steps towards building their future. Aqua has textually been suicidal since he was four years old and that's not something that would've just turned itself off.

But even when the story does acknowledge Aqua's death as being a suicide, it still also has this weird horrible framing of like. It's SAD, sure, but it's this beautiful and necessary sacrifice that he was DESTINED to make to protect Ruby('s career lol). So we end in this horrible place where Aqua's life, dreams and happiness are implicitly, cosmically Not Important in comparison to Ruby's and that Aqua himself is not just acceptable bit of collateral damage but a necessary one.

Which would be an insane note to end things on ANYWAY if the career that Aqua was protecting was anything OTHER than being an idol, when we've spent the whole manga talking about what a fleeting, exploitative and ephemeral stage of someone's life it is. Like, what are the chances that Ruby's going to still be an idol in ten years? Five, even? What's she going to do when she's not an idol anymore? Was Aqua's life really worth this?

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

So this is the first official Ghost story on my blog. I know, I know, it's been a long time writing and I've not written something for the guy, but it's really just because I get so worried about writing him poorly.

I know he's a big military guy who hates having emotions and kills any and all kindness in his heart, but I also really like the idea of him exploring the concept of healing from his trauma? I dunno, I just thought about it.

Also, like König, I can't imagine Ghost keeping normal pets. Originally I had him get a spider, but then I read over his backstory again and it made more sense for him to get a venomous snake. I think it's a major step to overcoming his trauma. By the way! Big trigger warning, this is about a snake! This entire fic centres around a snake!

Anyways, I had some fun writing this but it made me super sad.

TW: Snake, discussion of past abuse, emotional trauma, child abuse (referenced), emotional disregulation

Wordcount: 1.7k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

Simon locked eyes with the little black and yellow creature housed deep within its cave. It was a small thing, barely hatched from its egg it looked like. The length of a ruler at most. It was a light thing, covered in fine scales along its supple body. This thing was venomous, yes, but it couldn’t do any real damage. It was a threat maybe to a mouse, but a man such as himself wouldn't fall to such weak poison. Swelling, pain, nausea, yes. But death? Not quite.

And yet, his heart quickened within his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow. It had been so long since he’d seen one of these beasts, and yet the same fear from back then wormed its way inside him now.

“Hungry?” Simon’s voice was particularly gravelly, roughened by sleep deprivation and lack of use.

The creature made no move. He’d be surprised if the thing even heard him. Did it even have ears? He’d have to ask the breeder later.

“Been a long time since I’ve seen one of yer kind before,” he admitted. He didn’t quite know why, but it felt somewhat soothing to speak to the thing.

“I killed the last one of ye that I saw. Crushed the fucker right under my boot, I did.”

It didn’t seem to scare the beast off. He wondered if it really was more afraid of him than he was of it. He hoped that was true. He didn’t want to admit that the fear still wriggled under his skin.

“He wasn’t anything like what my dad ‘ad,” Simon closed his eyes as the oppressive memories washed over him, “that one was a right bastard. Bigger than anything I’ve seen ever since. Shoved it right in my face, he did. Wouldn’t let me go till I kissed it right on the lips. If it bit me, I wouldn’t be standin’ ‘ere. But you,” Simon opened his eyes, dark eyes matching two glassy eyes of inky black, “you’re nothing. You're pathetic. You’re… You're so small.”

Simon turned back to the breeder.

Finally, the creature came to its senses and slithered back further into its burrow. So sleek and streamlined, and yet so slow to move. It was afraid of him, that Simon decided the moment he noticed that despite backing away, it didn’t dare look elsewhere.

“How much for this one?” he asked as he pointed at the plastic cube.

“That one?” the woman blinked and looked at what he was pointing at, “the female or the male?”

“The female,” Simon clarified.

“Oh she’s pretty, isn’t she?” the woman adjusted her glasses as she slid behind the plastic cube, “poor girl’s probably pretty scared being out here.” She didn’t mention how terrifying Simon was in his dark clothing, rough fabric stretched tight across his broad frame. He was used to scaring people by this point. Sometimes, like now, he wished he wasn’t.

“How do you pronounce that?” Simon pointed at the name that had been scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on a blank sticker.

“Boida dendrophila,” the woman replied, “she’s pretty young, but she’ll get big soon enough.”

“She’s one of them big ones, yeah?” Simon asked aloofly.

“You bet your arse,” the woman grinned, “she’ll be big soon enough. Don’t know much about ‘em?”

“Oh no,” Simon leaned down to take a better look at the little beast, “I’ve been doing my reading.”

“You got a big enough enclosure for her?” the woman quizzed him.

“Sure do,” Simon hummed, “I built her an enclosure myself. It’s nearly as tall as me, long too. Got some nice branches for her to climb and all that..”

“Wow that’s a lot of space. You sure that’s not too much?” the woman frowned.

“She won’t be in there for a bit, I’ve got something for while she’s small,” Simon reasoned.

What a stupid question.

“Oh well that’s fine,” the woman broke out into another smile, “but yeah she’s eating mostly baby mice, an adult once in a while. You know she’ll be eating bigger things when she’s full grown, right? You can handle that?”

“I think I’ll be quite alright,” Simon mused, “have to admit, she’s a right beauty.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” the woman gushed, “I’ve been raising her since she was just hatched. But now? Well, normally I sell them off a bit sooner, but she grew on me. Unfortunately, the husband isn’t too fond of her and wants her to be moved on.”

“Why’s that?” Simon looked at the woman from behind his sunglasses.

“Oh he got bit when she was the length of a pencil,” the woman laughed, “he’s held it against her ever since!”

“Heard her kind can get pretty feisty,” Simon commented as he looked back at the spider.

“They can get a bit aggressive, I won't lie to you. A bit territorial, too,” the woman explained carefully so as not to scare off the only interested customer she had all weekend.

“Real fast,” Simon continued on, “with nasty bites.”

“Sounds like you’ve done your reading,” the woman laughed uncomfortably.

“Course,” Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, “so how much is she? The sticker’s ripped.”

“She’s on sale, actually,” the woman grinned, “only a couple hundred quid.”

“That much, eh?” Simon straightened up to tower over the slender woman.

“Normally she could be anywhere up to four hundred,” the woman fought back against the subtle threat of intimidation.

“Well then,” Simon looked down at the cube, “looks like I got a good deal then.”

“You won’t go stompin’ on her, will you?” the woman furrowed her brows.

“No ma’am, that was just what I had to do when I went out to the Middle East,” Simon chuckled humorlessly, “I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ this here little lady.”

The woman grinned as she counted her bills, Simon smiled just slightly as he picked up the container and brought it back to his car.

When he got home, he carefully moved the little creature into the glass enclosure of dirt, leaf litter and cork bark. He put it back in its place on his shelf and smiled.

“Dendrophila, eh?” he chuckled, “how ‘bout Ophelia? That’s a cute lil name for ya.”

The creature only burrowed away under the cork bark, eager to get out of sight of the frightening giant before her. He didn’t blame the little thing, he’d be terrified of himself if he was a younger man.

Once, he’d hardened himself into an unstoppable thing, a monster of a man. He had formed his shell through cruel lashings the world had lavished upon him. He took ablutions in raining blood. He was festering sickness or silver sin. He was what he despised in the world, the monster he tried to protect his own family from. When his brothers in arms welcomed each other warmly, they regarded him as a feral dog to be kept at a distance, chained in the backyard, out in the rain.

In Simon’s heart there was no room for love. He was not a man forged in kindness and love. He was the unfortunate son of Mr. Riley, cursed from birth to be raised in the muck and mire of human atrocities. He had been calloused by the time he was nine, and by the time he joined the military even the recruiting officers were afraid of him. He was too cruel, too strict, too much for anyone to handle. He could brute-force his way through life, but only for so long.

Even monsters had hearts. This was the unfortunate fact that Simon had learned far too late in life. He hated himself for how he wallowed in his loneliness. He thought his team would be enough, but there was a despicable part that still resided deep within him. He could offer his rotten sort of love to his teammates, but he could never care for them like he needed to. There was a part of him that had been stunted since childhood, and far too late it breached his skin to scream into his ears, begging him to please just notice me, notice me and don't let me die here inside of you.

He didn’t want to, but he spoke to a therapist. It was Price's advice after he'd broken down with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a revolver in the other. Price promised to never say a word as he unwound his lieutenant's fingers from the trigger.

A week later he'd arrived at a small office. They’d been cowed by him at first. Everyone was, but something about frightening the one person he wanted to be helped by hurt a part of Simon he wished to rip from his chest. Once he would have laughed, but in that office, he could only hurt. No tears fell, but his walls did and he was able to speak openly for the first time in his entire life without the help of a bottle of jack and a pair of dice. It felt wrong. He hated it, but he learned.

His therapist told him that to help rid himself of this festering parasite of an emotion, he should try to nurture the damned thing. Simon had laughed in the man’s face. He then told him to go to Hell. The man had learned not to flinch in the face of a predator, and so pushed forth. He said that to grow, Simon could try getting a cat or a dog. Something he could raise with the love he never had been given as a boy.

He said that he needed something to love or else he'd never be able to heal. Simon scoffed and left the room, but not before booking another appointment. The smug look on his therapist’s face disgusted him. He turned quickly and left.

So maybe it was out of spite that he bought Ophelia, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed the little creature. He needed something to love, and so he did. He loved the Ophelia with all his heart. He nurtured her and cared for her as best he could.

Months passed, and he started to handle Ophelia. She hissed, she scurried away, she did everything to get away from Simon’s touch. He figured that if he had to face himself, he’d do much the same. He wasn’t a creature born of love and compassion. He was death, in face and in heart, but each time he brought Ohpelia’s container out and changed her water, when she ate from his tongs, he could feel his rotten heart beating within his chest. It made him smile despite himself.

He was not a creature of love, and yet it was love he felt when Ophelia tentatively reached out and slithered up his hand. When he raised her up, ever so gently, he couldn’t help but cry.

How cruel was the world that a boy, born from street gutters and raised by heavy hands, would only ever feel love for the first time in a dingy London flat on his thirty-first birthday, alone save for the venomous snake in his hands?

Stories

Ghost Dump

[rottenpumpkin13]

I used to see Sephiroth and think “damn he’s the Marilyn Monroe of video games and anime,” but after delving into his backstory and seeing Crisis Core/Reunion and Ever Crisis I just feel sad.

I mean when you think about it he really had no one. He only knew Glenn, Matt, and Lucia for that one mission but he never forgot about them, despite all of them leaving him behind. Then Angeal and Genesis who- I’m sorry, I know this is also an unpopular opinion- also treated him like crap. To me it always seemed like Genesis didn’t really care about Sephiroth at all. We’ve never seen him being nice to him, even prior to degrading. During that one spar we saw of them three Genesis really seemed like he was going for the throat and like he was letting his rage and jealousy take over, and Angeal had to break them up. At first I used to think that at least Angeal was a decent friend to Sephiroth, but the more I think about it the more it seemed like he was on Genesis’ side because he was his childhood friend and simply acted as a peacekeeper between them three than anything else. Sephiroth didn’t hesitate to offer his blood/cells when Genesis needed it and Angeal even commented on how Sephiroth had lost weight when he sees him the last time, probably from stress and depression.

So not only did he never have friends who cared about him and who he always cared more for than they cared for him, he was also raised in a lab his entire childhood by a psycho who’s his biological father (he didn’t know about that part but it’s still horribly messed up.) And even with all of that he still grew up to be a good person- before all the trauma drove him crazy. He still wanted to genuinely help and save people, and he got attached so quickly. Even with every reason to be horrible he wasn’t, until the whole dam of emotions and mistreatment broke.

Sorry for the long post. I was just looking back at the Seph lore and started feeling really sad 😕

Sephiroth is a very tragic character, and he was failed by every adult in his life from the very beginning, first by his parents—one being an unethical twat and the other being his mother, someone who he would later come to really yearn for and had no idea she was part of the reason why his life was the way it was. He was Shinra's lap dog from birth to Nibelheim, and the only respite he had from it all were his friendships—and he was an extremely loyal friend to everyone. He was loyal even to SOLDIER despite the program being part of the problem.

It appears Glenn, Matt and Lucia were his first friends who really taught him what it was like to care for other people. The thing is: the FS trio were as much of Shinra's pawns as Sephiroth—albeit to a lesser extend because Seph was their golden boy. And so were Genesis and Angeal. They were victims of the Jenova Project too, and had every right to be angry, and Genesis' actions are more understandable (not excusable) once you take into account how the degradation likely preyed on his mental state. Genesis and Angeal are complex characters, but unfortunately we don't have as much narrative context and content for them as we have for Sephiroth, which ultimately makes Sephiroth easier to sympathize with despite what he goes on to become later. He's an incredibly tragic character who everyone rightfully adores, also because of who he was as character Pre-Nibelheim, before he understandably lost his mind. It's a damn shame so many people disregard the compilation, because there's so much of Seph's backstory to be explored that adds even more depth to his character.

I think Genesis and Angeal were good friends to Sephiroth, but you have to understand that they were both degrading while Sephiroth was (physically) fine. So of course they latched onto each other and left Sephiroth behind, especially if they thought Sephiroth wouldn't understand their desertion and wouldn't abandon Shinra to come with them. I don't think they were bad friends, but they—Genesis especially—underestimated how good of a friend he was to them. I hope chapter 2 of FS can show Sephiroth and Angeal's (fingers crossed Genesis too) friendship before the crisis ever started. Only then will we know what their dynamic was like.

[consumeroflemoans]

For the character break down since he's been in the public conscience, Sunday? Also Aventurine so we have the classic?

I DIDNT SEE THIS ASK OMG

Sunday

- How I feel about him?

Augh I love love love his character so much. He’s such a fascinating exploration of the trauma and grooming that can sometimes come from religious institutions. He’s a deeply flawed person that I just want to see improve

- Who do I ship with him?

Stellar question to ask the multishipper I have a few

Sunheng - This most recent quest really opened my eyes to this ship. Dan Heng and Sunday have parallel plots of redemption. They both have been made criminals in their own homes after doing something they believed was right. Dan Heng is further along in his character arc, so he could potentially help Sunday with his own development, helping him find his own purpose. Also they’re on the Astral Express together now (:

Sunturine - These absolute divas. The conversation between Order Sunday and Aventurine had my toxic yaoi bells ringing. I’ve talked about this before, but they are amazing foils for each other. Sunday is lowkey obsessed with Aventurine’s surface level frivolity, it was even mentioned in his argument against himself. The dynamic of the (metaphorical) straight man x the frivalous flirt is so fun. Also “It’s Sunday, the most handsome man in Penacony” plays in my head constantly.

Sunday x Caelus/Stelle - Now I don’t ship the Trailblazer with a lot of people, but this is one situation where I think it would work. Penacony was supposed to be a vacation for them and it turned into arguably one of the most traumatic experiences of their life. The dynamic between a villain searching for redemption and the one that defeated them in the first place is really fun to explore and I think there could be good angst.

- Non-romantic OTP?

Oh my god Sunday and Robin. Their sibling dynamic brings me life and the newest quest nearly made me cry. Sunday has been so dependent on Robin acting as the light in his life and he’s finally recognizing that he needs to secure his own independence. They love each other so much I hope they see each other again

- Unpopular opinion?

I’ve touched on this before but I don’t think Sunday has changed all that much yet. I’ve seen a bit of discourse surrounding the farewell quest because it’s frankly confusing at times. This quest wasn’t about him becoming a whole new person, it’s about him finally accepting that he can’t change the past. He can only move forward and work to improve himself

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened

Please please hoyoverse I am on my knees give Sunday more interactions with the Astral Express crew. I’m well aware he’s only a passenger but he could have so many interesting conversations with them. I was really hoping the room event had Sunday included. It makes sense why he isn’t but I’m still kind of sad

Aventurine

- How I feel about him?

Obsessed with this character. He’s my husband. He’s my darling little boy. He kicked off the growing trend of us really getting to see the plot from character’s perspectives and I think they did a phenomenal job exploring his trauma.

- Who do I ship with him?

*clears throat* Dr. Veritas Ratio. *the crowd goes wild*

I do think they have a fun dynamic. Once again the straight man character plays well off Aventurine gambling on everything. It’s also nice to see a character that genuinely cares. Someone who can say, no, stop, this is actively harming you. Ratio also doesn’t say that in the most polite way, but I think it makes them fun.

Also Sunturine again (:

- Non-romantic OTP?

Aventurine and Topaz! I really like to think of them as best friends. They’re lowkey bad influences on each other, but they work well together. There’s a lot of fun concepts for workplace shenanigans also with them working together as Stonehearts.

- Unpopular opinion?

I don’t think it’s an unpopular opinion but tbh I’ve seen a lot of people mischaracterize Aventurine as being incredibly reckless. His entire theming is based around gambling but he’s actually an extremely calculating character. He had an intricate plan on Penacony with multiple backup plans to fall back on. He’s very smart with his plans and knows how to make things go his way. That’s why he’s good at what he does.

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened

Proper Aventurine/Boothill team up when. I need to see them take down the IPC together. They’ve both lost their homes, their families, and their autonomy to them. I need this for my soul

[kanerallels]

Trick or treat 💜

*cracks knuckles* Let's see if I can do this justice

If Hera had thought being without Kanan was hard before, it was nothing compared to now after she had Jacen.

She’d been granted maternity leave (a very tired looking Princess Organa told her to take as long as she needed), and was spending it on Lothal. Governor Azadi had appointed a specific landing platform for the Ghost, and that was where Hera stayed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to visit the comm tower where Ezra had lived, not yet.

Often, she wasn’t alone. Zeb would be there as often as he could, as would Sabine. But they had their own responsibilities, and Hera wasn’t about to divert anything from the Rebellion. Her father had visited a few times, but it was hard for him to get off of Ryloth.

So more often than not, it was just her, Chopper, and Jacen. And while she was so, so grateful for the gift that was her son…it was hard.

He cried. A lot. Hera sometimes wondered if he somehow remembered the trauma she’d gone through while carrying him, if the pain of that and losing his father was still inside him. But more likely, he was just a baby, who cried when hungry or cold or pretty much whenever he needed anything. She vaguely recalled her little brother crying, too, before they’d lost him.

It had been months since she last had a full night’s sleep. If Jacen’s cries didn’t wake her—and they usually did—dreams of fire and blue-green eyes did. She was tired, and trying so desperately to take care of her son. But Hera felt like she was one step away from falling apart.

She couldn’t, though. She didn’t have a choice. She had to hold it together for Jacen.

As it turned out, it relaxed Jacen to be held, especially when she was moving. So Hera started spending a lot of time walking, with him cradled in her arms or strapped in a sling to her chest. She started exploring the streets of Lothal when she wasn’t helping Ryder with the relief work, pacing the lengths of them time after time. Often, she’d pass places she recognized—Old Jho’s, the bombed out shell of the Bridgers house. Or other times, she’d see a piece of graffiti by Sabine, and wonder when she was here. If it was recent or long ago, back when life made sense.

One day, she was walking through a tangle of neighborhoods, most of the houses burned away. Sabine had recently commed, saying that she was coming back to Lothal. She hadn’t said why, but the heaviness in her voice said it all. Her and Ahsoka’s search for Ezra was still fruitless, and Hera’s heart twisted at the thought. At the fear that he might actually be gone for good.

She tried to hide the fear and sadness she felt, but Jacen seemed to be picking up on it anyway, because he simply would not stop crying. No matter how much she rocked him, humming one of the songs that soothed him the most, he wailed steadily on.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she whispered to him, bouncing him up and down lightly. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Excuse me.”

A gentle voice cut through Hera’s spinning thoughts, and she looked up—meeting a pair of blue-green eyes. For a moment, she was paralyzed, and then she registered the sight of an elderly woman, silver hair pulled back from her face, which wore a warm but concerned expression.

“Can I help you?” she asked. “Please.”

Any other time, Hera would have demurred, would have told her she had it handled. But the combination of exhaustion and Jacen’s cries and the startlingly familiar eyes somehow overtook her brain, and before she knew it she was handing her son over to the woman, who introduced herself as Devorah.

To her shock, Jacen quieted quickly as the woman sang gently in a language Hera didn’t recognize, staring up at her with wide blue eyes. Apparently, many human children started out with blue eyes. Hera harbored a secret hope that Jacen’s eyes would change to look like his father’s.

“What a precious boy,” Devorah murmured. Giving Hera a sympathetic look, she said, “You look exhausted, General. Haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Not as much as I want to,” Hera admitted. “But—how did you know—”

“I’ve seen you around the refugee camps,” Devorah explained. “Everyone’s quite impressed with how much you’ve been doing, particularly with a newborn baby. But I know how hard raising a new baby can be.” Pausing, she said, “I take it his father is—”

“Gone,” Hera said, hating the ache in her throat and the sting in her eyes. “He—he died to save us.”

Devorah’s expression softened. “Then your little boy has two heroes as parents. But I have a feeling that’s little comfort.”

“You could say that,” Hera agreed.

“Hmm. I lost my husband to the Empire,” Devorah told her. “He was brave, too, but…it doesn’t prevent us from missing them.”

Hera suddenly found the tears in her eyes spilling forth. “No,” she whispered. “It doesn’t.”

And to her profound relief, Devorah didn’t hesitate before pulling her into a hug.

After that, she saw quite a bit more of Devorah. The refugee camps housed those who were displaced after Thrawn’s orbital bombardment, and Hera had been working there as much as possible to help. Now that she’d met her, Devorah seemed everywhere at once—cooking, helping put up tents, cheering up children and encouraging parents and singing, always singing.

(it reminded Hera, as too much did, of Kanan. How he’d told her once that the only memory he had of his life before the Jedi Order was of a voice, singing to him, and after that Hera had made a point to let him catch her singing as much as possible.)

The camps were overcrowded, and work to get people their homes back was slow. A lot of people were sharing tents, and some didn’t have one to begin with. When Hera realized that Devorah was one of those—she’d given hers up to a pair of children, whose parents had died in the bombings—she’d immediately, impulsively, offered to let Devorah use one of the spare rooms on the Ghost.

(there was only one real spare room. Hera almost never went in there, not anymore. But somehow, it felt right to let Devorah use it.)

Having someone else around all the time brought a little light to Hera’s life. And it helped a lot to have someone look after Jacen so she could catch a little extra sleep every now and then.

It helped that Jacen loved Devorah. He’d light up when she was around, babbling to her, and she’d listen and laugh like he was actually talking. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she told Hera one day. “He reminds me of my son at his age.”

“You had a son?” Hera asked, not quite surprised, and Devorah nodded.

“And a daughter. She left to fight the Empire, although I hear from her pretty often. And my son…” Devorah’s usually cheerful face fell, an old sadness in her eyes. “He’s gone, too. For longer, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hera said slowly, and Devorah glanced at her.

“It’s quite alright. He didn’t die, exactly, although I’d say it’s not impossible he’s gone at this point. He was a Jedi.”

The word went through Hera’s heart like a knife, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “A Jedi?” she managed finally.

Nodding, Devorah said, “Yes. I was sad to let him go but, oh, how proud. We knew he’d change the galaxy someday. I was sure of it. Our family never bought into the Empire’s lies about the Jedi, and I always wondered if he’d made it.”

“What was his name?” Hera managed, and she knew. She just knew, before Devorah spoke with a gentle, wistful smile on her face.

“Caleb,” she said. “Caleb Dume.”

[myheartswildrumpus]

I am struggling. Going through yet another breakup. This one ended up being borderline abusive, controlling, realized he’s been grooming me to be a submissive of which I am not quite that. Explored it. But when it came with having to validate his every feeling for hours at a time, the majority of which were about how I’m wrong or doing it wrong, sprinkled in with tantrums and grabbing my jaw violently when he didn’t like what I said…. Le sigh. Not a good fit.

I’m 45. And I know I’m an amazing woman. I’ve done so much work on my trauma. I am intelligent, successful and athlete, loyal and funny and apparently beautiful.

But feel like such an idiot for falling for for this dude. I feel re traumatized and scared. I can’t believe at this stage in my healing I didn’t bail earlier. I got it quicker this time, 2.5 mos.

I’d never been with such an emotionally intelligent, available dude who was so willing to provide containment and holding. And the sex was transcendent when he wasn’t withholding it. (I know, fucked right? Who withholds sex from ME?!)

And like FUCK. Is he not out there? My partner?

Maybe I’m just destined to keep going through them as lessons.

Never getting to have my own person.

I’m learning a ton and becoming more whole, mostly. Having to do inner repair work with this one.

The more healed I get the thinner the pool becomes.

On the verge of just taking lovers and having guy friends, of which I have many devoted man friends that are just not capable of loving me all the way.

Grief.

Healing those familial wounds.

Prayers up.

Please my dudes. Heal. Heal so you can stand up in your masculinity and your vulnerability and love a woman right. And let them love you. And see you. Without having to smash her. Stand next to her. I’m so sick of men wanting a strong woman only to soon after start making her smaller.

I am capable I learned of letting myself be soft. Vulnerable. Feminine. But I can only continue do that if I’m not getting continually smashed and retraumatized.

God damm. Help a woman out. The rewards are great. The more I can open the hotter the intimacy gets.

Rant over. Just sad. And resolute.

On plus side now I can just do whatever I want and run in the mountains this summer. Stoked about that.

[nightcolorz]

HI CUTIE PIE ARMANDTOLOGIST THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I have a question and it’s really important

Does Armand like Dr Pepper yes or no

(But also actually thoughts on the way they changed up Armand’s backstory in the show? Cuz now he’s kinda like musical Armand and ik you love that guy real, I JUST WANT UR THOUGHTS)

HI BELOVED HUSBAND LOML SECOND IN COMMAND ARMANDOLOGIST 😍😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

thus is an amazing question….Armand loves doctor pepper and he has a crippling addiction to it (I know this bcus he told me). The fizzy texture makes him tweak out like cats do when they go crazy randomly and his eyes go huge and dilated and he rolls around wildly for like ten minutes straight 🥰

My thoughts on how they changed up Armand’s backstory in the show is that I LOVE IT!! 🙏🙏so so true so true I love musical Armand he is so funny and real, that is such a good comparison. What I love about musical armand is that in making armand a very visible explicit adult while keeping his backstory relatively the same they kind of lean into this alternate reality where by growing up Armand sort of experienced living “past his prime” and was turned in less of a preservation of his beauty and youth (🤢) and more of in a panicked, pathetic last ditch move, which rlly kind of hammers home the sad kicked dog vibe he has ❤️. Like, I love the thematic value of Armand being an eternal child so much. It’s just so so sad and effective, picturing him as this visible child who is yknow, torturing and killing ppl and leading cults, and even owning property and running businesses, but no matter what he is doing he is always displaying this very apparent physical reminder of his stunted growth and his trauma, that will always be anyone’s first impression of him, that causes him active inconveniences and insecurities. He’s a physical embodiment of the most vulnerable time in his life, trying despite it to gain respect and instill fear. He’s like a child ghost!! I love how his stunted growth manifests as a disability, I love how he is often perceived as a girl bcus of his appearance which adds a trans layer, i love how when Armand’s sad he appears for a moment like the child who was abused, I love love love it.

And that version of Armand will always be my favorite, but I still LOVE the way in the show (and musical before her) is doing it. Back on the topic of the musical, while I don’t think it can carry the same layer of tragedy and depth as the books, the musical frames Armand in a way that’s very upsetting in a different way. He’s like, very pathetic 😭. This grown ass man still stuck in time as a “beautiful youth”, longing for the man who sexually abused him when he was fifteen, stuck in the mindset of the child he was, looking for his past in everything he does and everyone he meets. It’s different, but still carry’s that tragic weight 😭. But the musical wasn’t interested (or maybe didn’t have the time) in exploring that tragedy in any depth, so Armand’s pathetic past his prime vibe is framed more as almost comedically embarrassing then sad. And on the note of the show!!!!! What I love so so much about show Armand’s backstory changes is that they take what the musical was putting down but didn’t have time for and explore it with all the weight it needs, and it’s SO GOOD!!!

Armand as not of a literal external youth but instead a metaphorical one, a technical adult who was kept as a slave and treated as a child for his entire adulthood until he was eventually thrust into vampirism and subsequently abandoned, so he carry’s this internal stunting, is AMAZING. He was raised in a way that instilled in him and prevented him from ever being a functioning, independent person, and then forced into roles of dire leadership and horrible loneliness. In one of my fics I compare him to a pampered lap dog who’s been abandoned on the streets. Amc Armand reminds me of the song memory from cats, which has always reminded me of Armand but hits harder in this version. He’s so 😭😭 abandoned elderly cat who is longing for his past (which for Armand was super shitty, but remains the only time he was loved) and just looking to experience that love and comfort again 😭. The “love and comfort” that was sexual and physical abuse and literal enslavement 😭. It’s so sad.

I love that amc iwtv doesn’t necessarily change Armand’s backstory of being sold into slavery, but rlly hammers home in the details that he was and continued to be a slave. The racial element is just, ugh, omg, so mf good. They take Armand’s trauma in the books of being deprived of his cultural background by being sold into slavery and bought by Marius, and basically cut off from his religious beliefs and made to feel alienated from religion bcus of his sexual trauma, and by making Armand a person of color rlly elevate that in a super sad super meaningful way. I also love how they add little horrific traumas to rlly instill that Armand was a slave to Marius, that he was his property. Rlly sad!!! 😭 I love it.

the only thing that I don’t like about the changes in Armand’s backstory (which r not a lot, and r mostly based in Assad zaman’s casting whom I love as Armand, they stay surprisingly faithful to the books) Is the thing where Armand’s parents (apparently) willingly sold him into slavery. Part of the huge tragedy with Armand being sold and loosing himself to that is that his parents were not perfect, and not especially good to him, but they loved him so so much, and he looses his memory and connection to two parents who love and miss him, and are devastated by loosing him. Which even tho it’s technically a better reality for Armand then, he had parents who betrayed him, it hits sm harder imo. But, I don’t resent the writers for that bcus I have a theory that I think it’s very likely that the reality of the books is true, and Armand believes that his parents sold him bcus that was a lie Marius fed him to ease his own guilt about keeping Armand from his family so that he can sexually abuse him. If my theory is wrong, and Armand’s parents rlly did sell him, I will be disappointed and wish they stayed more faithful to the books, but I won’t be super mad cuz I love everything else they r doing so much, and it doesn’t retract from that too much.

On the subject of amc and musical Armand comparisons, I hope the show adapts/ takes inspo from a change that the musical made that I love a lot and think could rlly rlly work in the show. In the musical, during the scene where Armand throws Lestat off the tower, Lestat pushes Armand into doing this by mockingly telling him that Marius is alive and has not only chosen to not reconnect with armand bcus he’s not as important to him as Armand perceives, but also he has told Lestat how Armand was a mistake and he should have never made him bcus Marius thinks he’s crazy and beyond hope. And musical armand screams at Lestat that he’s lying, shouts HE LOVED ME!!! And pushes lestat off the tower, bcus he refuses to accept the reality of his fucked up relationship with Marius. Which, dude, I literally love that change in the musical sm and almost wish it was in the books. I sometimes forget that in the books Armand finds out Marius is alive from Lestats book offscreen and we don’t see his immediate reaction at all, just his reaction to reuniting with Marius after already processing that he’s alive. I RLLY HOPE that amc iwtv takes this change the musical made and elevates it, bcus I am the only guy who talks about it and I need everyone else to care 😭. It would translate so perfectly in the show amc pls hire me.

THWNK U SM FOR THE ASK BBY I LOVE THESE QUESTIONS I LOVE YAPPING!!! ILY

[ananke-xiii]

There's a line from s11e20 "Don't call me Shurley" that got stuck into my little nogging and it's when Chuck tells Metatron "You were just the closest angel to the door when I walked into the room".

Now assuming that Chuck is a lying liar who lies I still like this line because it says way more about Chuck than about Metatron. Then Chuck goes on and delivers his cheap shot: "There's nothing special about you, Metatron. Not then… not now".

(Little aside: AND THEN Amara comes in a few episodes later and calls Metatron "The secretary"?! I mean, how can people not love her? Yes, she might have eaten a few souls so what? Sue her! He brother has eliminated WORLDS because Dean wouldn't bend the knee to him, who's the crazy sibling, huh? *insert a meta about Dean only willing to bend the knee to Cas in Purgatory and all the entendres intended*).

Anyway, for all his pettiness and shrewdness (Metatron is a great villain and I will die on this hill), Metatron replies with surprising grace:

"And I don't care if I was just the angel nearest the door. You picked me. Your light shined on me – Me! Oh, and the warmth. But then you left me. You left all of us."

My little fragile heart trembled a little to these words because... well, it's like the OG trauma, isn't it? To be chosen by your parents, to be loved unconditionally, to be somebody's favorite person... Oh, the warmth.

And so it hit me, I finally saw why I love SPN's angels so much. They are ALL (Cas included) a bunch of children screaming and kicking their feet because they want to be loved, thinking that if they follow their orders, if they fulfill their duties they will be loved.

They are all Lucifer minus the action and the mark.

These are Chuck's words to soothe Lucifer in "We Happy Few": I did. I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites. But you… You were mine. I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most, because I thought you were strong enough to bear it. And when I saw that I was wrong… When I watched my choice devour my most cherished son, I hated myself, and so I punished you. And I am so sorry."

Yes, Chuck is a lying liar who lies. Maybe he chose Lucifer because he was the one closest to the door. Who knows? Chuck doesn't care. Every angel's deepest desire is to be loved by God, to be the chosen one, to be his favorite. Which is both sad and... human? I guess it's a tragedy from the human perspective but maybe the human perspective is limited.

I don't really like the finale with Jack as God for a variety of reasons but, conceptually, the idea of a half-angel and half-human (Kelly Kline you will NOT be forgotten) becoming god is not that bad (Hello Jesus!). Especially if the half-angel part is theoretically (well in pratice too but I mean biology what amirite?)Lucifer's. Because, as Sam says in "We Happy Few": I-I can’t believe I’m actually about to say this, but… um. Lucifer is right.

At the end of the day, SPN as a narrative, did, in a very convoluted and maybe unintentional way, agree with Lucifer.

Like, Lucifer was right. And I know that if we put on our morality glasses Lucifer is evil incarnate etc but honestly? By the same lensens, the whole heavenly host is kinda evil. They ALL (Cas included) did a lot of pretty horrible stuff. All the horror and the pain for a God that doesn't care.

So I guess what should have been explored in Dabb's era was not so much nurture vs nature but more "what does it mean to be half-angel?" 'Cause really, ALL angels are a little bit like Lucifer. And if no angel really represents "good" what are we, humans, left with? Does the question "nurture vs nature" even make sense?

There's really nothing SPECIAL about any of us, humans, angels, demons, monsters. We ALL want to just be chosen and loved unconditionally. It turns out angels are not that different from humans, aren't they?

[toxicroyjamie]

so crazy how jamie had a breakdown and quit his job and basically blew up his career to go be a slut on national tv (which made him miserable) 😭 and then he was like uhhh what do i do and went to his ex for advice 😭 oh baby i felt so bad for him even though he was a huge prick he got knocked down so many pegs and tbh i wish they explored that more like how bad must it have been to go back to his dad after getting some freedom from him to the point that he almost ruined his career

God I knowwww. I joke but I really think a lot about how LCA was actually such a dark time in Jamie’s life

Like. The real reason he left Man City was that he couldn’t tolerate the abuse anymore. He tells Ted that. He had a few months (presumably) at Richmond where he wasn’t being (physically) abused for the first time since childhood, and even in that short period of time, his life changed so much. Like by Two Aces he had already started confronting his trauma and learning from Ted and opening up and kind of sort of getting close to actually making friends and then he just. Woke up one morning and had it yanked out from under him. Just had to go back to his house of horrors in Manchester like nothing had happened

And obviously he tried to reacclimate and go back to what he was used to and just forget everything but it’s like. Growing up in a cage is one thing but being caged after you’ve been free is fucking torture. Obviously he was going to jump at the first chance he had to get the fuck out of there and set out on his own

And THEN he got kicked off LCA and City wouldn’t take him back and he had no one. Literally no one. For the first time in his life he didn’t have teammates and he didn’t have a coach and his relationship with Georgie was in a weird place and he didn’t make friends at Richmond because he was an asshole to everyone and he didn’t have friends at City (sat alone and sad on the bus) and Keeley had left him because he was an asshole to her and James would never take him back so like. He had no one to turn to and no prospects and his career was over it and it was entirely his fault and there was nothing he could do to fix it and so he just went to Keeley as a last ditch effort

[stuckasmain]

Dave’s old life is cast aside and he is reborn (semi-literally) as a star child. It is an ending that has left many baffled, including me, but is ultimately a touching end and beginning.

Dave ends the story an evolved being, yet not so far detached from his human origin. He still has a great deal of emotion and curiosity - he becomes a baby because he simply is one when it comes to understanding the universe. He could go anywhere, do anything and yet he goes to earth. He goes and watches over it like a shiny toy, while his physical ties have been severed he’s still attached to it- almost like a mother, if we stay with the baby metaphor.

Eventually he will move on from it but for now he is a protector of sorts. The guardian of earth. He stops the bomb not for his own sake but because he simply wants humanity to continue on- he stops a potential doomsday!

It’s too bad this is completely uprooted in the following bits of the series. He is “beyond” emotion, he is on Europa. I would be fine if the evolution or planet was focused on even remotely besides the same few paragraphs, he’s transformed and cast aside. All of the prior meaning is rebuked, all of his humanity removed. See it wasn’t the transformation that did it but the story itself— as it decided to pivot and couldn’t just have him watching. He must be a blank slate. He must be elsewhere- he can’t even enjoy watching the other planet or if he does we don’t really hear of it.

Dave becomes more of a plot device than a person, as a star child there’s so many facinating things you could do with him. For one thing a dressing the trauma that came from that and before, and — again either guardian of earth - self chosen- or we actually see his involvement elsewhere. He becomes a just as much of a tool as the monolith.

Not only is his humanity stripped but his agency, in 2010 he describes himself as a dog on a leash a good number of times. While I absolutely adore that metaphor, it’s so tragic and not even acknowledged as such?! (Again so much could be considered cosmic horror and it’s either had waved or blankly accepted) he went from a near omnipotent being to LOSING LARGE CHUNKS OF TIME AND BEING USED AS A PROBE. He’s suddenly beyond humanity when he was so attached before; he becomes apathetic incredibly fast. (Which, as a immortal being is understandable but it’s absolutely unearned and not in character) -> my issue isn’t with him becoming a tool of some higher power it’s that it’s sort of hand waved “it is how it is” and not addressed how messed up and interesting it is.

Now I’ve yet to read 3001 but my point here broadly stands. I fully believe it should’ve ended after 2010, as it comes across as very very clear it was a two book story and 2061 is a whole separate one with some characters tossed into it.

Arcs were over. There was a bit more explanation as to what happened in the first one; we got closure alongside Heywood. Things were set up for the future but it was more in a way for you to view them as fully developed not exactly a sequel. (Like the Hal 10,000 idea). It’s frustrating because Dave as a Starchild can lead to so many interesting things and it was a beautiful idea in 2001 but … after that it mistreats and mischarectetizes Him so fast in a way that frustrates me to no end. Maybe if there was an actual focus or exploration I could understand the direction but making him a cut out god figure is such a sad end.

A child of the stars still clinging to its former life, its humanity…

Oh what could have been. I’d like to imagine Dave would’ve never completely… not been Dave, yes over centuries he may subdue emotions, his interest may waver but what we get is a name and maybe some memory.

—

Clarification:

I fully enjoy 2010, my issues with Dave in that are minimal just that it’s a little sad he swaps guardianship but I can understand. I was excited and interested in Europa… only for that too also get sort of ignored.

There’s also some interesting points to come out of 2061 - how the monolith works, conversing with Hal and he does seem to have a genuine interest in study but it’s also where he’s sort of a name drop and little else

It’s the stripping him of his emotion and character that really gets me - as it’s a route that isn’t earned as Clark absolutely does not write about trauma or if he does it’s a off handed “ok so everyone dying and the monolith was a little scary but now I’m blue and don’t care” it’s even true for human characters idk

I pick and choose what I want to keep from the further books honestly, we’ll see if 3001 fixes this or if this rant grows longer. I’m just sad, Dave’s such a fascinating character and he’s so mistreated?