PLEASE for the love of the universe read anti-colonial science fiction and fantasy written from marginalized perspectives. Y’all (you know who you are) are killing me. To see people praise books about empire written exclusively by white women and then turn around and say you don’t know who Octavia Butler is or that you haven’t read any NK Jemisin just kills me! I’m not saying you HAVE to enjoy specific books but there is such an obvious pattern here
Some of y’all love marginalized stories but you don’t give a fuck about marginalized creators and characters, and it shows. Like damn
Btw I headcanon that like David is not Builderman but rather Roblox himself, Builderman is just that one creation that pisses him off unless he's working (curious data; David GROOMER-sucky does have an account for himself, the Builderman ACC has been abandoned basically so, yeah, we can canonically start separating the characters from the asshole yayyy)
Like Roblox is called David (Builderman is just Builderman yk cause he gotta work) and it's low-key greed and pride incarnate but worse cause it thinks it's doing the right thing by doing objectively bad stuff, its just really closed off to everyone except its workers. Like, he created Builder and his previous iterations as puppets before deciding that it liked them working under it better.
Except it pisses it off so much it's insane, it hates him. It's deeper than just hate, dude wants Builderman buildergone but can't erase him due to his legacy (Like in real life with the new redesign of old characters and the platform becoming a breeding ground for terrible people but I don't want to talk about that🦦)
I don't like David. None of em. Haven't met a David that wasn't some level of evil yet😔
Also, they look like a collage AU to me. Mostly Ozz. He looks like a frat jock to me. Just sitting with his over dramatic theater kid boyfriend. Said boyfriend who WILL absolutely crash the half time show at the big game by running naked across the field with his art student best friend. Both of them wearing rubber chicken masks: Totally to hide their identities and not AT ALL because Fizz thinks Ozz would find it funny. And he would. Ozz would find it very funny. Might even lead to a spontaneous proposal when hes bailing the two out of lock up.
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I know what happens when Deadpool lives while Spiderman dies, I know. I know he ends up dying as well eventually, I know he grieves, but in the meantime?
Every Deadpool has a Spider-Man, yes? So when he does pass, Wade gets a new spiderman. His hair isn't brown and coily, it's straight and blonde. He's not snarky, but he's compassionate. He doesn't snort when he laughs, his face doesn't go red with laughter. He doesn't accidentally break mugs. He doesn't start singing musicals, swinging from rooftops. He's not Peter. But he's spiderman.
Then he passes. Maybe he meets a new Spidey. Maybe his name isn't Peter, but it's Harold. They're different, yes, but they both sound a bit geeky. He's not a baby-boy, but maybe he could be a different nickname. He doesn't have a dimple in his left cheek when he smirks, he doesn't randomly do backflips, he doesn't like pickles, he doesn't like tacos, he likes pizza. He's not Peter.
He passes as well. Now he meets someone exactly like Peter. His hair is brown and coily, he complains about it, he likes pineapple on pizza, he pours milk first when making cereal, he drinks exactly four cups of coffee a day, etc. But something's off. He's not his Peter, he's just Peter.
Wade's doomed to search for Peter in every single Spider-Man. He's doomed to look for his soul. He has photos of Peter that he Cherishes. They're fading, but he just gets a new one. He has Peter's clothes, worn in, doesn't smell like him anymore, now it just smells like Wade. He has that friendship necklace he bought for them, the other half still around Peter's neck. He visits his grave, even though it's crumbling and taken over by moss.
No one is Peter, and Wade will forevermore be doomed to yearn for him, to search for him in everyone he sees. When he finally does die, maybe the earth implodes, or maybe it was a nuclear blast, he sighs one last time, relief seeping from every pore on him. "See you soon, Baby-boy," he mumbles. The name, even though he's gone decades without saying it, slips off his tongue. It's familiar. A chuckle dies on his tongue as a warmth envelopes him. Maybe it's death, but it feels like Peter. It finally feels like his Peter.
