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#her death is from her perspective though and i really liked that
vivitalks · 19 hours
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man. derek is such an interesting character in season 1, especially when you can look at him through the lens of having seen the whole show, because he's like an unreliable narrator for scott, even though he's not a narrator for the show.
the thing is, derek in season 1 is the primary vehicle for werewolf lore. as new viewers, we're reliant on his character to explain to us the rules and conceits of the genre, but once you've seen the whole show, that role is no longer necessary. but for scott, in season 1, derek is the sole source of werewolf intel. derek is werewolf jesus. which means that everything scott initially learns about being a werewolf is filtered through the Derek Hale Trauma Matrix, and neither of them know it.
for example: in 1x05, derek tells scott that pain is what keeps you human (which is a mantra that gets repeated and referenced a ton over the course of the rest of the show). scott has been a werewolf for all of five seconds, and has no choice but to take the word of this obviously much more knowledgeable werewolf. in that way, derek operates as a kind of narrator for scott, giving him information and context he couldn't really get any other way. but it's unreliable info. don't get me wrong - derek isn't trying to be an unreliable narrator; he's not aware of how much his life experience has colored his understanding of his own species. it's just that...well...derek is a twenty-something with the kind of trauma that eats other trauma for breakfast. of course he would say that pain is what keeps you human. at this point in the show, pain is all he has.
this is the same guy who, in the next episode, says this:
DEREK: You getting angry? That's your first lesson. You want to learn how to control this, how to shift-- you do it through anger, by tapping into a primal animal rage, and you can't do that with her around. SCOTT: [defensively] I can get angry. DEREK: Not angry enough. This is the only way that I can teach you.
except we know, and scott quickly learns (in that very same episode, in fact), that this isn't true. anger doesn't work for everyone, and it doesn't work for scott, who's not an angry person. the things that work for derek won't work for all werewolves - but how would derek know that? he's never had to teach someone to be a werewolf before. he's not actually werewolf jesus.
to scott, derek is the only trustworthy source of information on being a werewolf, because he's the only werewolf scott knows. and from derek's perspective, everything he knows about being a werewolf must be true, because it's true for him. derek is the narrator, and it's only as his backstory unfolds that the viewers, and scott, learn just how much his history and trauma have obscured the reality of things, even for derek himself.
pain is not what makes you human. it's what makes derek human. because the moments in derek's life that stand out to him most are all tinged with tragedy. mercy killing his high school girlfriend. losing his entire family in a house fire. the death of his sister. for derek, to be human is to be in pain, and to be angry about that is the only way to be in control. after all, he doesn't have anyone teaching him otherwise.
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gaybananabread · 2 days
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♪*✧⁠Ramshackle Day Off✧⁠*♪
~It’s official: I’ve gained yet another hyperfixation. I absolutely LOVED the pilot for Ramshackle; the trash goblins grabbed my focus. So, as with all my faves, they’re getting the special treatment. If this is your flavor of interest, I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Stone
Lers: Skipp, Vinnie
Summary: Stone’s having one of his emo moments, feeling down and not even cracking his usual half-smile. Skipp and Vinnie decide to help, using the one method they know will always cheer up their grungy friend. 
Warnings: alcohol/cigarettes mentioned! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
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In their slum alley, the three lovable scraps lounged about, enjoying one of the very few days where they didn't have to fight to survive.
Vinnie had hit the motherload that morning in a dumpster: an entire case of Hickory Smoked Beans, just past their expiration date. It was a Ramshackle miracle.
Since they didn't have to forage for money or food, the trio could take a sort of off-day. While Vinnie and Skipp were lounging and making the most of it, Stone couldn't help but feel morose.
Sure, they had enough food for a few days. But what happens after that? What would they do when they ran out and had to go back to their normal pattern? What if they couldn't get enough, and not even shoes could sustain them?
He'd usually just chug a bit of liquor to calm those thoughts, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Life felt…impossibly meaningless. Like no matter how hard they tried, the universe would continue to put them in their place at the very bottom.
Stone had a particular look when he got into those moods. His eyes seemed distant, he sighed more, and a bottle of some cheap, scavenged liquor was always nearby. 
While looking for some fabric to patch his newest jacket hole, Skipp noticed his friend's sullen attitude. It wasn't a rare sight, by any means, but it still worried him to see Stone so upset. 
“Hey…you alright, Stone? You seem kinda out of it.” Skipp kept a respectful distance, not knowing if his friend was in a touch-positive mood or not. He extended a hand to silently ask if touch was okay. Stone shrugged, taking a swig from his mystery bottle. 
“Aren’t we all? ‘re we ever really in it, or are we jus’ waitin’ for death to find us and put us in our final place?”
“Uh…okay?” Skipp patted the emotional man’s head before scooting away, going to find Vinnie. She would know what to do…probably.
Vinnie was lounging on one of their make-shift nests when Skipp found her. She groaned, stretching as she sat up from the pile of ratty blankets and coats.
“What is it now? Today’s supposed to be relaxing,” she whined, running a hand through her unruly hair. Skipp pointed to their drunken, miserable-looking friend. “Stone’s in a sad mood again.”
“Fuckin’...course he is. The one damn day we get off…” Vinnie grumbled, dramatically hauling herself completely out of her semi-comfortable nest. “He okay with touch?”
After the blonde nodded, she marched over to Stone, waving for him to do the same. Instead of greeting him, she straddled the dejected man, squeezing his hips.
“GRK- Vihihinnie! W-whahat the hehell?!” Stone dropped his bottle, hands flying to grab Vinnie’s wrists. He was drunk, though, so his fight wasn’t a very effective one.
Skipp blushed, his eyes widening. Vinnie’s fix was…tickling him? The optimistic guy never could handle watching tickle fights without getting flustered, but now…
It looked fun from both perspectives, and Stone was quite upset. He was pretty sure his mind would behave and let him wreck his friend for one.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re cheering you up!” Even though his cheeks were still rosy, Skipp joined in, spidering his short nails on Stone’s kneecaps. It would almost certainly come back to haunt him later, but he didn’t really mind; that was a sort of bonus.
“Yep. It’s too good of a day for that depressing bullshit. You need to learn how to smile, ya mopey shit.” Vinnie was a bit less sweet, but there was a kindness in her salty words. She really cared for Stone, even if he was a depressing asshole sometimes.
“Guhuhuys! Fuhuck ohohohoff!” Stone squirmed and twisted under Vinnie, feeling the four evil hands on him. He squeezed Vinnie’s wrists, though he wasn’t exactly trying to shove her off. This wasn't lost on his friends.
“Aww, you like this, don’t you?” Surprisingly, Skipp was the one to tease him. It wasn’t exactly meant to be one, but that’s what it felt like to the giggling man. He groaned through the happy sound, covering his face with one hand. 
“Holy shit, Skipp. I think you’re right!” Vinnie chuckled, though she already knew that was the case. It was hardly the first time she’d used the method to get Stone to quit moping, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He needed to smile more.
“Wonder what happens if I go here…” Vinnie clawed at the back of Stone’s ribs, making him snort and start cackling. It was his worst spot, and she knew it. “Oh. That. How cute!”
Was that a bit mean? Maybe, yeah, but Stone seemed like he was writing gothic poetry that morning. The shithead needed to laugh that Ramshackle sadness off.
“’M NOHOHOT CUHUTE!” Stone was practically losing it at that point. Skipp had decided to move to the undersides of his knees. That combined with the backs of his ribs was almost more than he could handle. Almost.
“VIHIHINNY! GEHE’ OHOHOHOFF’A THEHEHERE!” Stone writhed, arching his back to try and avoid her fingers. He kicked his legs, but that was pretty much useless when she was on his thighs. Skipp had free reign of his lower body, and Vinnie was practically unstoppable up top.
“But I like it here! You look like Maggot with all that squirming, dude.” She mentioned their angelic friend, trying to get him blushing more. His cheeks were pink, but Vinnie wanted more. She knew how red he could get.
“Oh yeah, he does!” Out of Stone’s view, Skipp giggled, making Stone groan. That little ball of sunshine just had to comment on everything, didn’t he? Stone cared for him, of course; he just wanted to lovingly strangle him sometimes.
“You know what eats maggots, Stone?” He flipped the blonde off, but Skipp didn’t mind. The next few seconds would make up for that. “Jumping spiders!”
Skipp clawed his hands, switching spots every few seconds to spider each area on his legs. It was kinda dumb, but scientifically accurate. That, and it tickled like crazy.
“SKIHIHIHPP! IHIHI- PFFAHAHAHA!” All protests died, swallowed up in loud, throaty cackles. His nerves were practically on fire, his thoughts drowned out by his own laughter. It was finally too much.
“EHEHENOHOUGH!” Stone yelled through his mirth, patting Vinnie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled away, Skipp following suit. Vinnie climbed off, giving him a second. 
Stone immediately curled in on himself, turning into a giggly pill bug as he recovered. “F-fuhuhuck youhu guhuhuhuys…” 
Vinnie chuckled, used to his profanities. She knows they usually mean he had fun, but was still a bit salty. Skipp, however, was concerned they’d crossed a line. “Stone? Did we go too far?”
The man huffed, swallowing another bout of giggles. His composure was mostly back, the thin line of his lips showing a ghost of a smile. “Nah, yohou’re fine. Youhu suck, thohough.”
Rolling her eyes, Vinnie nudged the giggly man’s shoulder. “Ah, whatever. You were being a downer, and you know it.” 
Stone lovingly flipped her off and grumbled something under his breath. Skipp pulled both of them into a hug, and for once, Stone didn’t pull away. He’d never admit it, but the embrace felt nice at that moment.
“C’mon, guys. Let’s enjoy our day off!” Skipp’s attitude remained bright as ever. Stone opened his mouth to argue, but huffed and shook his head. 
“Fine. I’m taking Vinnie’s nest.” Stone sauntered over to the pile of cloth, smirking at Vinnie’s near-instant outrage.
“Hey! Get your own rags, Nevermore!” The two started playfully wrestling, fighting over the nest Skipp knew they’d end up sharing. He leaned against the wall of the slum alley, watching his friends and taking in the happiness they both now felt.
Yep. Perfect Ramshackle day off.
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vulcanhello · 1 year
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adammilligan · 2 years
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when adam says "no, john winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. i don't have a dad" like yes SIR get his ass
#i have so many thoughts about adam and kate and their dynamic with john and it's mainly that#obviously anything about john said by the ghoul has to be taken with a whole handful of salt. obviously#because it was actively trying to manipulate sam and dean#but when the ghoul said that younger adam bugged kate 24/7 to call john i believe it. just because it makes sense#he was young! he wanted to know who his dad was. and that's understandable#and the fact that adam HAD to beg 24/7 for kate to call him....i think kate knew something was off about john#i really do. and the fact that john only showed up on adam's birthdays and only ever took him out to baseball games#which are very crowded very PUBLIC places where anything can be observed by bystanders#i think kate set that up as well. without adam's knowledge#but adam eventually grew disillusioned with john as well because from a kid's perspective#who's had to watch his mother work herself to death to support the both of them#john WAS a douchebag who only ever came around to try and fail to play house#he didn't bother trying to raise adam he didn't pay child support he didn't do ANYTHING#he just showed up pretended to act like a father and then left. and adam and kate were left there still#with their bills. with adam still having to raise himself. with kate still working the night shift and breaking her back to support them#it makes me think about how it affects adam in the future. like his behavior#because adam as we've seen has always tried to look at things from different perspectives and hear people out#in 5x18 he was like okay i'll hear you guys out even though i don't like you. give me one good reason#and in 15x08 he advocates for sam and dean even though he doesn't want to. he talks michael#but it's so interesting to me. because the line that's always gotten me about 15x08 is 'you still care about that? after he left you in the#cage?'#and it's like. adam IS genuinely trying to understand where michael's coming from. he DOES understand michael's love for his father#but when concerning the father it's like#he DOES tend to be black and white about it. john was a shitty person so therefore he's not his dad#god is a shitty person who left michael in the cage therefore michael shouldn't care what he thinks. or about him in general#et cetera et cetera#the issue of the father is the one issue that adam is black and white about. and that is to say fuck them we don't need them#it's SOOOO interesting to me. really#kate rambles#adam milligan
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rockatanskette · 9 months
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So, I've written before about how our relationship with predators would probably intimidate aliens, but I just pictured another way we interact with predators that is honestly just as scary from an outside perspective: we pretend to be predators and even make up new ones, all just for fun.
Now, we also adopt predator patterns for utility: wearing striped makeup for camouflage, imitating roars and bird calls, etc. But I'm specifically talking about the video I just saw from Creature Bionics of creature rigs designed for a human actor to better do motion capture. I'm talking about voice actors and sound designers creating new and terrifying clicks and roars and growls because lions' roars just aren't scary enough. I'm talking about adults dressing up as plush monstrosities to entertain sports fans and children. Gritty is terrifying, objectively.
One day at an early meal, human Janet seems confused when her alien crewmates start asking about a shape-shifting monster that they keep seeing in human culture. They ask her what it's like to live on a world with "dogjons;" animals that can shift from a fan-headed creature with eye-covered wings to an amphibious eel-like figure, humanoid but not human, to a death-pale monstrosity that chases anyone who dares get near its food. Human Janet is confused until they say that the pale figure has eyes in its hands; bloodshot, and glassy.
"Oh, Doug Jones! No, he's not a monster, he's just a really good actor. Too good—the Shape of Water awakened something in me, specifically."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, let's just say the lady 'mating' with him isn't a horror story, it's a fantasy." Human Janet says, like it's nothing. Then something seems to occur to her, and her eyes brighten with what the aliens are quickly learning is mischief. "Oh my god. Am I the one who gets to explain monster fucking?"
Elsewhere, an alien accompanies xis human friend on a day out with their young. There's some kind of show being put on for human youth and Xlibthar is excited for this insight into how humans get Like That. Imagine xis surprise when the lights go up on the entertainment platform and a horde of creatures rushes up. They are large and bright yellow, with big black eyes as dark as singularities, with bright red spots on their heads that clearly indicate venom. Xlibthar shrieks and shields xisself behind Akio and Hinata, sure that something has gone terribly wrong.
"What are those?!" Xlibthar demands, quaking in xis shoes.
"Those? Oh, they're just Pikachus." Akio does not seem even the slightest bit distressed, and five-year-old Hinata is absolutely losing her mind with excitement at the sight of these garish monstrosities.
"What. On Earth." Because this could only happen on Earth. "Is a Pikachu?"
"It's a Pocket Monster. It's a series about monsters that battle with each-other. Pikachu is a mouse that can shoot electricity out of its body."
Xlibthar stares at Akio, wondering if this is an example of what humans call "gaslighting," because keeping monsters in your pockets sounds too insane even for humans. And, "you bring these things around your CHILDREN??"
"I mean, they're not real." Akio puts his hands over Hinata's ears. "They're just people in costumes. Though Nintendo would never let you see one with its head off."
Xlibthar has many questions: why? What? How? What? But one question has been answered: if this is what entertains human youth, it is exactly why Humans are Like That.
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bvbygrl-writes · 5 months
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Wrong House
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Pairing: Stu Macher x Nerdy!Reader x Billy Loomis
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: A step into wrong house leads to a night of the right fun.
A/N: I was not supposed to upload this tonight but I'm too excited about it. I'm not proof reading this long ass shit either so if something is spelled wrong use your imagination to fix it, mwuah! <3
Warnings: reader has afab anatomy breaking and entering, knife play, homoerotic themes (they kiss but nothing more than that), mentions of murder, eiffel towering, loss of virginity, coercion and ultimatums, rope bandage, panty kink, and panty sniffing.
THIS FIC IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE.
(Y/n) was naturally an anxious girl but, with her parents out of town and the string of murders happening, she was on edge. She had every single light on in the house, the downstairs tv on, anything to make it seem as though the house was full of life. The reporters on the radio had told people to stay together and while most of the students in school had that option, she didn’t. Nobody wanted to be friends with the quiet girl who still wore Care Bear sweaters and could recite Star Trek lines from memory.
Nibbling the end of her pencil, she let out an exasperated sigh. She had been staring at the same math problem in her textbook for a good 45 minutes. “Focus, (Y/n/n), focus. If you do end up living through all of this, you’ll want to get into a good college.If you fail, mom and dad will make you wish you were dead.” she said out loud to herself, a sad laugh falling from her lips. At that same moment, her stomach began to grumble. When was the last time she ate? Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number to her favorite chinese food place. She loved it because the food was cheap and they were one of the only places that delivered something other than pizza after 10PM. 
“Alright, thank you!” she said, placing the phone back on the receiver. It’d be about a 20 minute wait, giving her time to focus more on her work. Sighing she sat back down in front of her textbook, staring at the page until the numbers started to blur together. “Well, that’s enough of that! I should get the money for the delivery driver seeing as it’ll be here in…” glancing at the clock on her wall she sighed, “Twenty minutes.” ignoring that face, she stood up, bunny slippers stomping over the carpeted floor to the piggy bank on her dresser. She pulled out a 10 dollar bill along with a 5 for the tip. But before (Y/n) could even get to her door, she heard a noise at the front door. 
“Th-that’s weird. There’s still nineteen minutes an-” she shrieked at the sound of the door bursting open. Every anxiety filled thought she had had since being home by herself was coming true. The blood drained from her face, her body growing light at the sound of the voices coming from the living room. Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as she turned off the lights and closed her bedroom door. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs put in perspective just how real this all was. She silently cursed her dad for never fixing the damn lock on her window. She might’ve broken a few bones from jumping, but that’d be better than being completely dead! Looking around her room she made the decision to jump in her closet, closing the accordion door.
She became aware of how loudly she was breathing, clamping her hands over her mouth. Her body trembled with terror. ‘Is this how I die? Alone, never experiencing friendship or love?’ Was this really the time to be feeling sorry for her lack of social and love life? ‘Well to be fair, this may be one of the last times I’m able to feel anything whatsoever.’ The sound of her bedroom door opening instantly made her mind go blank. The girl felt as though she was having a heart attack and honestly? She would have preferred that to whatever death she was about to experience.
“Are you sure this is the right house? This doesn’t look like Chelsea’s room.” A male’s voice remarked, the lights flicking on. She could see through the small slots on the folding door that there were two men. One had dark hair and a knife in his hand. The other one was taller with blonde hair and a backpack with god knows what inside of it.
“Yeah, dude! This is 345 Avalee Lane.” the other one exclaimed, an almost sinister grin on his face. The dark hair one made a sound that was a mix of a growl and a sigh.
“You fucking idiot! Chelsea lives in 348, we’re in the wrong house!” he pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking over the little trash can near her desk across the room. (Y/n) relaxed a bit. Maybe since they weren’t looking for her they’d just leave?
“Well at least no one’s home, we can just get out of here.” The blonde one rasped out, eating a piece of candy off of her dresser before tossing the wrapper on the ground. ‘Rude’ she thought.
“The lights and the tv were on. Someone’s definitely in this house. I’m going to go check the other rooms and you look around this one a bit better. We can’t take any chances.” The brunette exited the room and in the distance he heard the sound of different doors being opened. 
The blonde one began to hum, snooping around her room. He walked over to her dresser, opening up her panty drawer. A smile grew on his face as he held up a pair of white ones with a pink lace trim, shoving them in the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “Cute.” he said to himself (or so he thought). Walking over to her bed, he tossed the covers back before bending down to check under the bed as well. Next, he walked over to the cupboard of her collectable figurines, opening up the door. “Hm.” he shrugged before beginning to exit the room. She removed her hands from her mouth, placing them on the floor beside her as she let her body relax. However, before he could leave, she could see a lightbulb go off in his brain as he turned around walking towards the closet. The girl’s eyes went wide as she shook her head. As he opened the closet door, she couldn’t even manage to make a sound. A look of surprise made its way onto his face before he began to grin. “You’ve got cute little undies. Hey Billy!”
All (Y/n) could do was sit there in shock. She recognized this boy, he was in her art classes although he rarely showed up. Now that she could really see his face, he was quite attractive. Before she could delve into why she was letting herself think that, the other one (who she assumed was Billy) appeared right next to him. Although he had a scowl on his face, he was just as attractive. ‘Well, you always said you wanted a cute guy to notice you. There’s two! But you should’ve been more specific, huh (Y/n/n)?’ 
“She’s kind of cute in a dorky little way, ain’t she?” Stu commented as Billy used his knife to lift her chin. She didn’t dare stop making eye contact with Billy for fear of what he might do with that knife the second she did. He tilted her face around, examining it from all sorts of angles before he chuckled.
“She is. (Y/n), right? You’re the girl that’s always winning those sciences awards at school. We have AP English together.” he said in a calm tone. This was the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Why were they dragging this on so much when they could just kill her and get it over with?
“M-mmm-mhm!” she stuttered out, nodding her head ever so slightly so she didn’t cut herself on the blade. 
“Although I agree with my friend here, you still find yourself to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. See, I’ve got a plan and if I let you live, there’s a big chance you’re going to blab and ruin it for me.” he said, his words coming out through gritted teeth towards the end. “So unfortunately, your time’s up.”
“No, no please! I-I-I won’t blab and tell! I don’t have any friends or anyone to tell I won’t tell please! I promise!” she sobbed, begging for her life as he pressed the knife against her neck harder. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, which would also explain the sensation happening between her legs. Fat tears continued to stream down her face. “I promise please there’s gotta be a way!” she continued to plead for her life, waiting for something, just anything to happen. Whatever it’d take for this situation to be over. However, she was surprised when the knife suddenly was no longer pressed to her neck. Looking up, she saw the blonde one’s hand had moved it away and he was whispering something into Billy’s ear. Their eyes kept flickering to parts of the room and then back to her before Billy gave a singular nod. 
“It seems my friend Stu here has taken quite a liking to you so here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a bit of fun with you and if we enjoy it, you live and we’ll be back to get you after we finish some…business. And if not, I’ll slit your throat right after we finish. Does that sound fair?” Billy said, tugging her from her sitting position to be in between the both of them. She nodded frantically, happy to have even a small chance of living. She knew they were probably going to kill her when they were done, but at least that moment was suspended for a bit longer.
“Wh-what do I need t-to do?” she asked, her heart racing as she looked up at the two of them. They were completely dwarfing her with their size, it was like being trapped between two incredibly hot trees. Stu grinned at her once again before stepping back a bit.
“Well you can start by stripping!” he instructed, phrasing it like a suggestion even though she knew it wasn’t. She nodded, taking off her cream colored sweater, sliding her Power Rangers pajama pants down right after. She began to hesitate slightly as now she was just in her slippers and underwear.
“Allow me.” Billy said, using his knife to snip off her bra. He started at the shoulder straps, taking a moment to stare at her breast before tearing the backband as well. She didn’t try to cover up, knowing her chances of survival would dwindle to none. He went to pull down her panties but Stu stopped him, shaking his head.
“Leave those on her.” he said, before getting down on his knees in front of her. Billy held her arms behind her back with one of his, peeking over the girl’s shoulders to see what his moronic friend had planned. What she didn’t expect was for him to bury his face into her underwear-clad pussy and sniff. Stu let out a low moan as he did, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to sniff at her front, his nose nudging her clit through the fabric. “God that’s amazing. Looks like she’s enjoying it too.” he said, rubbing his finger on the wet spot forming on her panties. He gently pressed his fingers against the fabric causing (Y/n) to squirm a bit, a gentle moan falling from her mouth.
“Oh, that’s such a pretty noise.” Billy purrs lowly in her ear. Standing from the floor, Stu lifts his fingers up to Billy’s mouth and without thinking, he opens it. The girl watches in awe, her clit beginning to throb at the way the two men were interacting with one another. Stu slowly pulls his fingers from the man’s mouth, biting his lip as the other man licks his. “Did you want a taste?” he asks in a deep tone. At the same time, they both lean over and begin to share a passionate and heated open mouth kiss. Little moans and grunts fall from them, a gasp falling from her own lips as Stu grips at her waist, beginning to grind against her front, his bulge slotted between her slit. Billy mimics his actions, grinding his cock against her ass. She was glad the two were holding her up, because at the current moment she wasn’t sure if her legs would work. This was a whole new world for her. She had never been kissed or even touched by one man let alone two. The noises falling from her mouth were completely out of her control, the sensation of their rhythmic rubbing along with the scene of them kissing above her was all too much for her to handle. 
As though they could hear her thoughts, they pulled away from their kiss, turning their attention back to her. She hadn’t even realized that the knife was completely gone now. If she wanted to, she could’ve ran and gotten away. If she wanted to. Billy gripped her arms once more, beginning to walk her over to the bed. She felt her face grow warm at the collection of stuffed animals, causing her to look at the ground. “They keep me warm at night.” she defended weakly. Stu laughed, cooing at her before picking one up and turning it to face the wall, repeating the action several times with the other one.
Billy groaned, annoyed. “Seriously?”
“What? I know how the girls get about that sort of thing.” As Stu continued with his antics, the brunette reached for his friend’s bag. (Y/n) eyed him curiously, thinking he had changed his mind on their deal but was relieved when all he pulled out was a bit of rope. Wait, rope? He tossed it up and down smirking at her before positioning himself behind her as he began to tie her hands together. ‘This is better than whatever they usually probably use this for.’ She tugged at the rope, the friction causing a mild irritation from the action. He pushed her a bit, causing her to fall forward onto the bed. Her ass was in the air while the upper part of her body fell down due to having no support. She listened to the sound of belts and pants clambering before feeling the bed dip down behind her. At that same time, a pair of legs kneeled in front of her as well. She felt as a hand carded it’s way through her hair before tightening, lifting her face to be eye level with a cock. Peering up, she saw that it was Billy.
“Are you gonna open up or am I going to have to do it for you?” he asked, causing a bit of panic to flash through the girl’s (e/c) eyes.
“S-sorry. I’ve never done any of this before.” she muttered, causing a whistle from behind her. She could imagine the grin on Stu's face.
“A cute virgin?! How lucky are we tonight? Oh this is going to be fun. I haven’t popped a cherry in quite a long time.” Stu gushed, rubbing his hands together. “I can barely contain myself!” her panties were then pulled to the side, long fingers beginning to rub all along her slick covered folds. She let out a whimper, her knees trembling as he began to rub circles on her clit. As he slid a finger in, her mouth fell open which Billy saw as the perfect opportunity. Gripping her hair a bit tighter, he began to slide his cock into her mouth slowly. He stared down at her face, watching as her mouth began to struggle with the girth of him, tears falling down her face.
“You better stop with all those tears, I really don’t wanna cum this early.” Billy teased, beginning to rock his hips back and forth. He hissed in pleasure at her tight and warm little mouth, tossing his head back as he let out a guttural moan. Behind her, Stu had managed to work the third finger in, stretching and scissoring them around.Gripping her hip with one hand, he used his other to glide his cock along her lips causing them to both moan. “Hurry up, I wanna pick up the pace but I’m trying to make it easier for you.”
“I’m going!” and with that, Stu slid his cock in with one swift motion. His grip on her hips tightened at the same time her walls did as he fell forward for a bit, head resting against the small of her back. “G-god, oh fuck! You’ve got a tight little pussy, huh?” he said through gritted teeth, beginning to pound into her at an almost animalistic pace. Her pussy drooled around his cock as she continued to moan around Billy, choking as he also picked up his pace. Their thrust were alternating. As Stu would pull his cock out some, Billy’s would enter her throat deep, barely giving her a chance to get used to anything. She had already came around his cock twice, the feeling being overwhelmingly pleasurable. 
They were using her like a doll, holding her up and angling her just right. All she could do was sob and take it, the only thing on her mind was their cocks and her life. She didn’t even care if she was going to die after this, this was the best thing she had ever experienced in her life. 
“You look so helpless when you cry. God, Stu I wish you could see her right now.” Billy moaned out, staring down into those wet (e/c) eyes. Picking up his pace, he gripped at her scalp, full on skull fucking her now. His thrust had grown sloppy and so had his counterpart’s. 
“Tr-trust me, my view is just as good. I’m cl-close!” he whined out, reaching a finger down to rub at the girl's sensitive and swollen clit. (Y/n) screamed around Billy’s cock sending him over the edge. Pulling out, he coated her face and hair in a load of sticky white cum. Watching Billy stroke his cock over her face pushed Stu over the edge as well, causing him to bounce her back on his dick, whimpering as he came deep inside of her. 
The room fell silent and as (Y/n) came to her senses, the question of the hour came back to haunt her. Was she going to live?
“Are you satisfied, Stu?”
“More than, man.”
“Well..” Billy trailed off, stepping off of the bed. As Stu pulled out, she felt cold and exposed. Both men stood behind her, staring as the load of cum began to roll down the back of her legs. The brunette reached forward, grabbing her wrist rather roughly before untying her. “I guess you live. We’ll be back. In the meantime, get cleaned up.” the sound of the doorbell ringing caused the two men to look out the window, thinking she had somehow managed to get in contact with help. However, they both relaxed at the sight of the delivery truck on the outside of the house. 
“Make sure you save me some chow mein!” Stu said. The girl rolled over on her back, letting out a breathless laugh watching as the two quickly got dressed. Before they headed for the bedroom door, Stu took her panties off of her, sticking them in the front pocket of his jeans. 
“For good luck!”
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sl-ut · 3 months
Text
like real people do
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FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA
pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader
description: abby is one hundred percent, totally, and completely straight. that is, until she meets y/n.
warnings: UNEDITED, swearing, slight hints of nsfw, alcohol consumption, a hint of homophobia? (not really but just in case)
words: 5.9K
date posted: 08/02/24
The years had not been kind to Abby. By the time that she and her friends were celebrating her twenty-first birthday, the woman had suffered many losses; the death of her mother at a young age, her father’s murder a few years back, and most recently, her breakup with Owen. She was quick to discover that the universe was not exactly on her side. 
From her perspective, Owen was not just a boyfriend. Of course, he was hardly even that at most times, but he also represented the time in her life where everything was good; Salt Lake City, spending time in the woods with him and her dad, playing stupid little games to pass the time with him, Manny, and Mel…he reminded her of when everything was easier. She sometimes felt guilty for this, considering that she sometimes couldn’t tell whether her emotional attachment to him was because of how much she cared for him or for the impossible standards she’s always held him to. 
Seattle represented a new beginning for her and her friends. They were able to find a new community, stay together, and live a semi-normal life that even the Fireflies were unable to offer them. Things were good there, people generally liked her, and she was quickly making her way up the ranks as one of the top WLF soldiers, though there were certainly some downsides. At the WLF compound, she began to see things in a new light; She was able to focus on herself for once, do the things that she wanted and branch out more than before. She was no longer limited to the small world of the few Fireflies who actually made it out of Salt Lake City. 
It’s for this reason that she holds herself at least somewhat accountable for how things ended with Owen. Of course, she didn’t blame herself for his infidelity, nor for him choosing to do so with one of her closest friends, but she knew that it was her distance that caused the rift to form between them. She felt betrayed by them, obviously, but as time passed, it seemed clear to her that she was more hurt by the fact that it was her two closest confidants who had caused the pain, not the fact that Owen and Mel had been sleeping together for months before she and Owen called it quits. 
Her saving grace during this period of her life came in the form of someone she would later consider her best friend, despite how offended Manny gets each time she calls her that. Her first interaction with Y/n was the moment that she knew she needed to have her in her life, one way or another. 
She hadn’t noticed her right away, but who would? Amidst the thunderous crowd of the cafeteria just before lunch, it would be nearly impossible to notice anyone who she wasn’t directly looking for, which in a way, is how Abby noticed her to begin with. Manny was actually the one to sniff her out first, as he so often did with pretty girls, his midnight black hair standing out against the white fluorescent lighting. She beelined for him, an annoyed expression crossing her features as she figured out the reason why he’d been late for patrol.
“Manny!” She barked, “How many times do I have to drag your ass to the gate before you actually show up on ti–”
Her attention was immediately caught by the figure sitting across the table from him, eyes falling on a young woman with a look of shock on her face, clearly concerned by the large woman who’d nearly pulled Manny out of his seat with only one hand.
“Abby!” He greeted, doing his best to brush it off, “I was just on my way to meet you when I got distracted by this one,” He winked at the girl with a laugh, “Don’t blame me, it’s entirely her fault. Cierto, hermosa?”
Every engorged muscle in Abby’s body had to hold her back from physically gagging at his obnoxious charm, but she was a bit relieved to see that the girl did not seem to be falling for it so easily. 
“Whatever,” the blonde shook her head, trying to suppress any of the nerves that seemed to have wormed their way into her bloodstream under the girl’s stare, “We’re late, and I’m not taking anymore shit from Isaac over you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” He shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he began to head towards the door, offering a short goodbye to the girl before jogging to catch up with the blonde, who’d sped off in an attempt to get herself away from the girl. 
“Cute, right?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his lips.
She shrugged, “Yeah, your standards seem to be on the rise, finally. What ever happened to the medic–what was her name again? Ginger?”
“Me and Y/n? In my dreams, sure,” He stared at her with a raised brow, “I’m not exactly…her type.”
Something clicked in her mind, and made the twisting feeling in her gut worsen. Goosebumps prickled at her skin as she thought back on the roaming stare of the girl in the cafeteria–Y/n, as Manny had called her. Had she been checking Abby out? And why did that idea excite her so much?
“Oh,” she hummed.
“You, however… you definitely were. Did you see the way she was looking at you? Like she wanted you to–”
“Shut up, would you?” She sneered, “I’m not–that’s not–”
“I know,” he sighed, though a knowing look crossed his features, “I know.”
A few days had passed before Abby had run into Y/n again, only this time, it was a much more pleasant interaction. Abby had been spending a lot of time in the library, especially since her breakup with Owen and even ended up sleeping there some nights when Manny took the liberty of reserving the room for himself and whatever girl he was dating at the time. She found some peace there, burying her nose into random books from before the outbreak and pretending that, for just a few minutes, she isn’t just the top scar killer in the WLF. There was hardly ever anyone else there, which was a definite plus; She still had a long way to go before she’d be used to all the attention she gets around the arena. This day in particular. though, someone else occupied her usual seat in the furthest corner, by the window. 
She jumped in surprise at the sight of another person in her place, holding her palm to her chest to hold in any noise that may have emitted from her throat. The girl raised her head to look over the thick spine of the hardcover book she was reading, surprise evident on her own face as well.
“Sorry,” Abby choked out, “I just wasn’t expecting…I’m usually the only one here.”
“Oh,” Y/n sat up straighter, laying her book page-down on the table in front of her, “Yeah, I usually take the book back to my room, but my roommate is a little…busy at the moment.”
Abby snorted, “I get what you mean. Mine too.”
There was a beat of silence before Y/n chimed in again, “What are you reading?”
Abby glanced down at the book in her hand, eyes scanning over the faded words on the cover. She actually hadn’t known what book she’d taken off the shelf, just slowly making her way through every book in the library, “Uh, Jane Air–Eyre. First one I grabbed.”
“That’s a good one,” Y/n nodded, “One of the classics, I think they used to call them.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Abby mentally kicked herself, of course she would completely blank in front of the girl she’d been thinking about all week (but she was still, totally not into her). “Uh, what about you?”
Y/n smiled, “A Complete History of the Western World. Call me nostalgic, but I like learning about how things were before.”
“Me too,” Abby smiles, “In a way, it’s kinda comforting to see that this isn’t how things always were, you know?”
Y/n grinned, which quickly turned into a frown, “Sorry, I didn’t even…I’m Y/n.”
Abby smiled tightly, cheeks burning red as she reached forward to accept the hand offered to her, “I’m–”
“Abby,” Y/n smiled bashfully, “I know. You’re Manny’s friend, and sort of a big deal around here.”
Abby shrugged, the red of her cheeks now stretching to reach the tips of her ears, “Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to say. Not sure if I really live up to that expectation, though.”
Y/n chuckled before glancing down at her cracked wrist watch, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows as she closed her book and stood up from her seat, “Sorry, not trying to run away from you or anything, just lost track of time. Talk to you later, Abby.”
The next few weeks passed with several more interactions between the pair, and Abby would actually consider Y/n to be a friend. They could often be found in the library together, or grabbing a bite to eat with one another and sometimes a few others. Manny often grumbled about Abby swooping in and stealing his friends, but he always seemed to be more than happy to see the two of them together. That strange feeling did not disappear, though, like Abby thought it would. In fact, it got considerably worse.
Instead of having a little bit of nerves around her, Abby was struggling to keep herself from constantly pulling her into her lap, or reaching out to hold her hand across the table, or to tell her how deeply in love with her she wa–except Abby is straight. She likes guys. She dated Owen, and she was deeply hurt by his betrayal, right?
That’s what she told herself. Each longing to touch Y/n was just her own loneliness talking, every time she wanted to be held, it was her basic human need for affection, not because she was romantically or sexually interested in another woman. In fact, she had a little bit of a crush on one of the guys she went on patrol with the other day, or so she told Y/n. She made an effort to make it abundantly clear to the girl that there would be no romantic relationship between them, and was relieved when Y/n didn’t seem to put off by it. She continued to hang out with her, and to invite her to different social events around the arena.
This one was different, though. Abby went, fully intending to spend the night by Y/n’s side, people watching and making fun of Manny as he struck out time and time again. She had arrived to the party with Nora, a bit of pep in her step as she slid into the common area, face falling as she immediately took notice of Y/n on the couch across the room, a soft smile on her face as she listened intently to whatever the girl next to her was saying, her arm curled loosely around Y/n’s shoulders.
Abby felt sick, almost giving in to the instinct to turn and run, and she is positive that if it hadn’t been for Nora being right behind her, she probably would have. She hesitantly stepped further into the room, glancing around awkwardly in hopes of finding someone to hide her from Y/n before she could catch her attention, though it only took a moment’s glance for Y/n to turn her head and shout, waving both Abby and Nora over to where she and the other girl were sitting. 
The girl’s name was Samyah, and Abby decided on the spot that she hated her. She hated the way that she talked, the way she dressed, they way she smelled, the way that Y/n looked at her, and most of all, she hated the way that she held Y/n’s hand as she led her out of the common room, hooded eyes making it clear what was about to happen. But it didn’t really matter, because Abby is straight and this wasn’t going to last anymore than one night.
Except it did. Weeks later, Samyah was still very present in Y/n’s life. Abby cringed every time she had to witness them kiss, or touch each other in any way beyond what could be considered platonic. She prayed every night that something would happen, that Samyah would cheat or die out on patrol, anything to have her away from Y/n for more than a few hours at a time, but when it really happened, she couldn’t help but fear that she may have willed it into existence–Abby wasn’t a religious person, but this seemed to be a bit too on the nose for it to not have been divine intervention. 
Y/n and Samyah had been hooking up for a few weeks when Y/n turned up at Abby’s room, cheeks glossy with tear stains and eyes burning red. Abby was quick to take her into her arms, ignoring the selfish part of her that was singing at the mere contact. She held her tightly, sitting her down on the edge of her bed and stroking the back of her head soothingly, waiting for her to tell her what had happened. 
“Let me know when you’re ready to talk,” She had whispered into her hair before pressing a firm kiss there.
It was less than a moment later when a sharp sniff could be heard and Y/n’s watery voice began to retell what had taken place earlier that evening.
“Samyah has a boyfriend, apparently,” She wept, “She told me she isn’t gay, she just wanted to see what it was like.”
Abby’s entire body burned hot with anger, and then with embarrassment. What would Y/n think if she were to tell her that she’d been wondering the same thing? How would she be able to move forward knowing fully-well that she was no different from Samyah, someone who she had been condemning over the way that she treated Y/n? 
But was it the same? Was it really? Since she had met Y/n, she hadn’t even glanced twice at Owen, let alone any other man. She was all she could think about, day and night, and yet she still couldn’t seem to come to terms with the fact her feelings for her might have been more than platonic. It wasn’t as if she were too ashamed or was actually against the idea of her dating another woman, she was just confused as to why these feelings hadn’t come up before. Sure, there were times where she thought Mel was the prettiest girl she’d ever seen, but that was back when there weren’t many other girls around (and she wasn’t screwing her Abby’s boyfriend), and there was once where she’d had a rather promiscuous dream about Nora, but nothing had ever evolved further than that. 
These thoughts started to keep her up at night. She liked Y/n, she really did, but was it worth risking her friendship only for Abby to decide that she wasn’t gay at all? What if she was just curious? It was normal for people her age to be interested in exploring these things, only she was sort of stuck in a situation where she was unable to. She couldn’t go to Y/n for help with this, that much was blatantly obvious, but what about someone else? She tried to think of other girls she could go to for help, but there was no one who she could immediately think of that she could go to without also risking her friendship with Y/n; she’d been insistent early on in their friendship that she was not interested in women at all, especially when Y/n made it clear that she most certainly was, and more precisely, in Abby, so what would she think if she found out that Abby had slept with another woman after insisting that she wasn’t interested? That might be more dangerous than going to her for help.
It was getting harder to ignore, as well. Y/n was increasingly dependant on Abby for comfort for weeks after she ended things with Samyah, not that Abby minded, but it was growing more difficult not to hold her to her chest as they share a pillow every night, to not reach out and take her hand every time they walk side-by side, to not push her onto the bed every time she undresses in front of her, to pin her down and–
Then Y/n moved on. She was still quite upset, but she had decided that she wasn’t going to spend any more time dwelling on someone who obviously did not care about her, so she met Reagan. Abby didn’t hate Reagan the same way that she had with Samyah, she clearly liked Y/n and treated her as well as she could, considering that they were in the middle of the apocalypse. She was funny, and she fit in with the rest of their friends better than Abby would have liked; she wanted to hate her so much, but the only reason she could think of was purely out of selfishness, that being the fact that Y/n spending time with Reagan meant that she was not spending time with Abby, and after a few weeks of near constant contact with one another, Abby was sure she was going through withdrawals.
It all came to a head when Manny demanded that she take some time off of patrol. With Reagan always around, she had taken it upon herself to start accepting extra duties to avoid having to spend time with the group, and more specifically, Y/n. He’d made some arrangements and assigned someone else to her shift without even telling her, and all but dragged her down the hall and into the rec room. Y/n and Reagan had yet to arrive, but Abby knew that, if she was going to be forced to sit and watch Reagan practically hang off of the girl that she was probably in love with, she was gonna need a drink.
Abby wasn’t normally a big drinker. In her early days in the WLF, there had been a few times where she’d had more than she probably needed, but it also meant that she didn’t necessarily have the highest tolerance, especially with Manny being the one mixing her drinks. He’d been more than excited when Abby went for her second drink, and decided that they needed to go drink for drink with one another. Needless to say, by the time Y/n arrived, Abby was drunk. 
“Abs!” The voice sounded excited as they curled their arms around Abby’s neck from behind, leaning over the back of the sofa she was sitting on to hug her warmly, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
It almost felt like time had stopped the moment her eyes landed on Y/n, admiring the glint of the dim lights on her clean skin. Her hair was still damp, she’d just showered before coming to the party, and Abby couldn’t help but wish she’d also done so by the pooling of sweat on her forehead and palms. She leaned her head back against her shoulder, turning to glide her nose against her neck in a much more affectionate manner than she would have if she had been sober.
“Hi,” She mumbled, “You smell good.”
“It’s the lotion we found on patrol a few weeks ago,” Y/n laughed, “And you’re drunk.”
Abby shrugged, “No, just a little tipsy.”
Nora scoffed out a laugh as she plopped down on the armchair next to her, “Tipsy? Please, she’s been letting Manny mix her drinks all night.”
Y/n pulled away, leaving Abby to let out a small whine of defeat, “Uh oh. Something must be wrong to have you drinking Manny’s concoctions.”
“Hey!” The latino appeared seemingly out of thin air, “You’ve just lost yourself drink privileges.”
She raised her hands in surrender, “Not the threat you think it is, pendejo.”
Y/n threw herself onto the couch next to Abby, settling close enough for their arms to press against one another and sending Abby into what she assumed could only be early heart failure. 
“Seriously though, where’ve you been?”
The blonde shrugged once more, “Busy, I guess. Lots of patrols needed to be covered.”
“So you covered…all of them?”
Abby was quiet for a moment, then quickly changed the subject, “Where’s Reagan? Aren’t you two basically attached at the hip or something?”
The smile on Y/n’s face flickered for a beat, and Abby immediately felt a pang of guilt squeeze at her stomach and regret filled her for hurling such a harsh tone at her.
“Something came up,” Y/n turned her gaze to her interlocked fingers in her lap, ���She’s not gonna make it.”
Abby recognized a familiar sadness in her voice, one that she had hoped to never hear again, so she dropped the topic and instead found herself falling into a conversation similar to one they would have had before Reagan came into the picture. Things felt right again, especially as Y/n’s hand grasped onto her thick bicep everytime she laughed, and she didn’t push her hand away when she reached over and rested it on her knee–that had to mean something, right?
After Abby finished her fifth drink, things began to get too fuzzy for her to handle, her head dropping back onto the back of the couch with a grunt, her eyes squinting shut in a weak attempt to refocus herself. Y/n glanced up at her, concern painting her features as she reached a hand up to stroke Abby’s flushed cheek. 
“You feeling okay?”
Abby grunted in response, leaning her cheek even further into her hand.
Y/n chuckled at her, pulling herself away to stand up and taking hold of Abby’s hand. The blonde’s eyes popped open at the contact, staring up at the girl with hooded eyes as she attempted to pull her to her feet. Abby pushed herself up, forcing her entire body weight into Y/n’s figure faster than she could have anticipated, almost knocking them both to the floor.
“Woah, steady girl,” Y/n laughed, slinging one of her arms over her shoulder, “I think it’s time to get you to bed, don’t you think?”
Abby nodded sleepily, allowing her to pull her along down the hallway, thankfully not having to climb any stairs to Abby’s room with the girl who was 95% muscle on her back. She was able to get her into the room and seated on her mattress with very little trouble–Abby was very compliant with every order that came out of her mouth. 
She sat back, allowing her to wipe a wet cloth over her face gently, her eyes struggling to stay open even though she was eager to see her face up close and personal once more. 
“Can I ask you something?” She murmured quietly, using every ounce of her strength to keep herself from moaning under Y/n’s touch. 
“Of course.”
She paused for a moment, almost like she was thinking it over, though she had no control over the words that spilled out of her mouth, “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Y/n stopped her movements, causing Abby’s eyes to shoot open and fall on the grinning face before her. She laughed softly, then louder until her laughter filled the room and bounced off of the walls. 
“Sorry, sorry,” she lifted a hand to cover her mouth to contain her giggles, “That’s just not what I was expecting. But,” Y/n reached around and tugged the elastic out of Abby’s blonde hair, carefully untwisting the braid until her long hair settled around her shoulders, “I think you are very pretty.”
She smiled, mumbling out a quiet thank you.
“I have another question.”
“I think it’s only fair that I get to ask you one first.”
Abby raised her eyebrows, but was quick to nod in agreement. 
Y/n leaned back against the footboard of Abby’s bed, setting the cloth aside, “Why’ve you been ignoring me lately?”
“I’m not–” the blonde argued, pausing to compose herself, “I’m not ignoring you. I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”
“Abby.”
The blonde girl winced at her stern tone, wary of meeting her gaze, “Look, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you, it’s just…” 
Don’t say it, her very sober subconscious was pleading with her, please.
Her drunk mouth didn’t listen, “Reagan.”
“Reagan?” Y/n frowned, “What about her?”
A small smile appeared on Abby’s lips, “Nuh-uh, it’s my turn.”
Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance, but urging her to ask nonetheless.
“Do you love her?”
“Do I–Abby, why are you asking me this?”
Her bashful eyes fell to her lap, “I think you know why.”
“No, Abby I don’t–”
Her words were silenced, a hum of shock vibrating through her throat as Abby lurched forward, lips pressing sloppily against her own. Y/n froze, neither pulling away nor reciprocating, just remaining in place until Abby pulled away for air. 
Abby smiled, resting her forehead against Y/n’s softly. She was drunk, yes, but she had never felt more sober and in-tune with her own feelings as she was then, just after kissing the girl she was so hopelessly in love with for the very first time. 
The spell she was under broke the moment her eyelids fluttered open, allowing her to spot the hooded stare and tear-stained cheeks of the girl in front of her.
“Y/n? What’s–”
“You’re drunk, Abby,” she scowled, pushing herself away, “You should go to bed.”
“What? I just–No, please don’t go.”
Y/n turned to face her sharply, “Why? So you can use me for your own pleasure and then kick me to the curb?”
“What?”
“I mean–Jesus, Abby. You were there after Samyah. You were the one who told me she was such a bitch, that I deserved better, but you’re doing the same goddamn thing. Worst of all, you know how I feel about you, but you made it very clear to me that you didn’t feel the same, so I backed off.”
“I love you,” She stammered out, “I-I’m in love with you.”
Y/n laughed bitterly, shaking her head.
“Please,” Abby, fell to the floor as she tried to push her body off of the bed, “I’m telling you the truth. I-I didn’t know before, but I do now.”
Y/n sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose to collect herself, turning to face her once more before fleeing the room, “Go to bed, Abby. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Except they didn’t talk the next day. Or the one after that. Abby basically avoided Y/n like the plague after doing what she did. How could she? Everything that Y/n had said to her was true, she’d known it for weeks. Hell, it was the exact reason why she hadn’t made a move on her sooner. 
She knew she couldn’t escape her forever, though. The WLF stadium was pretty big, but they would both be living there for the rest of their (hopefully long) lives and would be bound to run into each other at some point in that time. She was also already in a fairly deep state of depression because of what had happened between the two of them, but also because of how much she just missed having her around. 
Which is why she found herself outside Y/n’s bedroom door after returning from a particularly risky patrol that had ended in only four of them returning from a group of seven. Abby was shaky as she made her way back inside the compound, her muscles screaming with every step and her body begging her for a shower and a long sleep, but her feet mindlessly carried her in the opposite direction of her own room. Her fist rapped against the thin wood before she could even process it, but she couldn’t run away now, not when she’d been pinned under a scar only an hour ago with a knife to her throat. 
Y/n looked a bit dishevelled as she opened the door, and Abby immediately thought the worst; had she really just shown up at her door at night? What if Reagan was in there? What had Y/n been doing in there when she knocked? Had Abby really interrupted her having sex with someone else?
But the lazy yawn that escaped her puffy lips forced Abby to realise that, no, she hadn’t interrupted her with someone else, she’d woken her up, which somehow made her feel worse.
“Abby?”
“Sorry, uh, is this a bad time?” She shifted her weight back and forth nervously. 
“No, I was just–no, it’s not,” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, “You’ve been avoiding me. Again.”
“I know,” Abby frowned, “I’m sorry. For everything. You have every right to be mad at me–fuck, you have every right to never wanna talk to me again, but I just have to let you know how sorry I am and how much you mean to me.”
Y/n shifted her gaze to the floor for a moment before nodding, glancing back up at Abby and stepping back to open the door wider, “Wanna come in?”
Abby nodded eagerly, stepping inside with caution. She glanced around, taking in the small changes that had been made since she’d last been here. Y/n bedroom was, well, hardly even a bedroom. It was about the size of a large broom closet, just enough room to jam two twin beds and two small dressers inside, though she and her roommate had taken the initiative to make it somewhat cosy inside. Thankfully, the second bed was empty that night, meaning that she didn’t have to hold back.
“Wanna sit?” Y/n motioned to the foot of her bed as she took a seat near the headboard. 
“Uh,” Abby glanced down at her dirty attire, “I shouldn't. Sorry, I didn’t even change before I came here–fuck, I’m so sorry.” 
Y/n shook her head, “Hey, it’s okay, Abs. We can sit on the floor?”
The blonde’s shoulders loosened at the use of that nickname, almost like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she lowered herself to sit directly across from Y/n on the carpeted floor. 
It was quiet for a beat, both of the girls sitting in silence as they watched, both anxiously waiting to see who would speak first. 
“Did you mean it?” Y/n was the first to crack.
“Did I mean…”
“You know what I’m talking about. You were drunk, but you avoided me like a clicker, Abby, so please don’t play dumb and just talk to me.”
Abby cleared her throat, “Yes. I meant it.”
Y/n let out a heavy breath, and Abby couldn’t tell if she was relieved or even more upset with her answer, “Okay, so you meant it. But why couldn’t you just tell me that? You knew how I felt about you when we first met, but you told me you weren’t interested so that was that.”
Abby shook her head, “It wasn’t like that. When we first met, I was…still dealing with how things ended with Owen. I was angry and hurt, and I really thought I would never get over it. But then, after a little while, I started to realise that I wasn’t heartbroken over him, I was angry that he and Mel didn’t have the decency to talk to me before they started fucking behind my back.”
“Okay,” Y/n nodded, “But after that? Is it some kind of internalised homophobic shit going on? If it is, you could’ve talked to me about it, I could’ve helped you.”
“It’s not that. It wasn’t that I was scared or ashamed of myself, it was that I didn’t even really think about it, I guess. Then, when I finally did, you were with Samyah, and then that ended and you were so upset, and that got me thinking that…I don’t know, what if I was the same as her? What if I was just wanting to experiment? I didn’t wanna talk to you about it because I didn’t wanna lose you, and I didn’t want you to think that I was the same as her,” Abby could feel her eyes stinging from the sudden onset of tears, “And then by the time I realised that that wasn’t the case, you were already with Reagan.”
Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but Abby cut her off.
“I know, you’re with her, and if that’s what you want, then that’s fine. I want you to be happy. But I can’t leave here knowing that I didn’t tell you that I am in love with you, so much that I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
Y/n didn’t answer, not verbally. Instead, she threw herself across the room, clambering into Abby’s lap and messily pressing her lips against hers. Abby was quick to reciprocate, her lips moving against hers steadily and conforming the once sloppy movements into a more slow and rhythmic embrace. Her arms moved to wrap around her waist, palms sliding up and down her back greedily as Y/n gently took Abby’s flushed cheeks into her own hands. 
When they finally pulled away, they both broke into wide grins, leaning in to peck each other once more. 
“Reagan and I aren’t together. I guess I was just on the rebound and she was looking for a fling, but it’s over.” Y/n whispered, “ I love you too, so much that I do know what to do with myself.”
Abby laughed, eyes trailing down her body and finally settling on the dirt and mud and blood that had transferred from her own dirty clothes to Y/n’s. 
“Shit, sorry, got you kinda dirty.”
Y/n glanced down at herself, then shrugged with a sly glint in her eye, “It’s okay. It just means that we’re both gonna have to go shower before bed, right?”
Abby stared at her in awe for a moment, brain finally catching up to her words as she jumped to her feet, hauling Y/n up into her arms as she began a quick march in the direction of the women’s showers, the otherwise quiet hallway being disturbed by Y/n’s squeal of surprise and laughter as the tall blonde carried her. 
Though the laughter was certainly more bearable to the surrounding rooms than the sounds that echoed from the showers over the next hour, though Abby couldn’t find a single ounce of concern for the others in the moment, just glad that she was finally able to hold and touch and kiss Y/n, just like real people do.
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khruschevshoe · 3 months
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How Behind-the Scenes Issues Affected the Writing of Doctor Who (Both Good and Bad)
Doctor Who is such a fascinating show to look at from a Watsonian v. Doylist perspective. Like, entirely just from an episode writing point of view:
Twice Upon A Time feels so slow and meandering and even boring in places because Chris Chibnall didn't want to start his run as showrunner and Steven Moffat didn't want the show to lose the coveted Christmas timeslot (ironic, I know) so he bumped the Twelfth Doctor's regeneration from the end of The Doctor Falls (where it makes sense) to the end of the Christmas special
Boom Town (my beloved) only exists because originally there was going to be an episode in its spot explaining that Rose had been molded to be the Doctor's perfect companion (by the Doctor, gross) and the writer didn't have the time to commit to the show
The ending of Last Christmas feels like one inside-a-dream too many because originally Jenna Coleman was questioning whether she was going to leave the show or not and the ending was rewritten after the first readthrough when she decided she wanted to stay for another season
The first five episodes of Season 7 feel like each one takes place in a different genre because that's literally how Steven Moffat pitched it to the writers; for example, A Town Called Mercy was literally pitched as "Doctor Who does a Western"
Not so much a weird one but one I find cool: Eleven's first words and Thirteen's first words were literally written by Moffat and Chibnall respectively, as they were brought in to write the first words of the first Doctors of their runs so as to make it cohesive
The reason why Fourteen isn't wearing Thirteen's clothes when he regenerates is because Jodie Whittaker is much shorter than David Tennant and Russell T. Davies didn't want it to look like he was making fun of the genderfluidity of the Doctor (still think he made the wrong decision, but eh)
Wilfred Mott isn't in the Runaway Bride and Donna's father isn't in Partners in Crime because the actor who played Donna's father, Howard Attfield, died after filming several scenes for Partners In Crime, leading to the character of "Stan Mott" from Voyage of the Damned being written into Partners In Crime as Donna's grandfather
Astrid Peth doesn't die in the original drafts of Voyage of the Damned, but Russell T. Davies wrote what is generally considered one of the most emotional deaths in Doctor Who just because he wanted Kylie Minogue to be able to focus on her music career
Originally Oxygen was written as a prequel to Mummy on the Orient Express, where a corporate representative appeared on a monitor. Said representative was fired for his fumbling of the station and would later live on as the company computer, Gus
During Season 11, Chris Chibnall had to do some major rewrites for many of the one-off episodes, therefore The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos ended up being a first draft that made it to screen. He later admitted it was his least favorite episode of the series
And this is only a fraction of what I found in terms of major behind-the-scenes writing reasons. Though I am still totally willing to critique the product that made it to our screens, finding out the reasons behind some of the more badly written episodes of the show really made me feel sympathy for every showrunner of the show as well as appreciate a lot of the good episodes that ended up here despite the short production schedule/unexpected problems (once again, Boom Town my beloved AND everyone's favorite companion Wilfred Mott only exist because of unforseen problems). Absolutely bonkers, isn't it?
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echos-gal · 6 days
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ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!
(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)
SEASON 2:
right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???
in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.
one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....
Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)
Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.
"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?
Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.
i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.
SEASON 3:
this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.
"domicile." that is all.
CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.
"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.
CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.
he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.
it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.
FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:
firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.
Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.
the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!
we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."
Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.
feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.
likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.
CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.
it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.
we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.
this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.
leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.
FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!
give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!
we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!
the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.
Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?
yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎
the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.
FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE
it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.
i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.
secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)
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shuinami · 9 months
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Jess and Hobie: their defining strengths + their weaknesses
I had a thought about Hobie while I was writing, have been thinking about Jess for a while and then this post about Miguel came out and it made me kind of want to yap. I'll only talk about Hobie and Jessica here because I'm biased + Peter & Gwen have been talked about a lot + I linked a post about Miguel + Miles & Pav have simpler, more obvious flaws that basically come down to youthful naivety.
I also find it really interesting that their flaws are basically opposites, Hobie's comes from "inconsistency" whilst Jessica's comes from stubbornness. And again, both these flaws come from their greatest strengths.
TL;dr
Jess' defining strength is her resolve when it comes to fighting for what's right and tussling with destiny but it causes her to have a one-track mind, even if it comes to dedicating herself to something wrong (from being misguided).
Hobie's defining strength is his optimism (e.g. anarcho-communism) but the extreme difficulty of pursuing those ideals and the struggle against systems can bring that optimism to a breaking point, causing him to be inconsistent or, more directly, to give up.
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I think people forget that Jessica's pregnancy is by design and not just a 'feature' of Jessica Drew as a character. She was deliberately chosen to be represented in this stage of her life and I think it is so important to her character, even if it's not in the traditional way that pregnancy is typically portrayed as in media.
I think her pregnancy shows the kind of person she is: most obviously, it's cold, hard evidence that she's a bamf who takes care of spidey business even while pregnant.
More importantly to me, though, there's an implication that, as her universe's one and only spidey, she has been the one to save the day and been the change she wishes to seek, effectively enough that she feels comfortable bringing a baby into the world.
Unlike someone like Peter, she does not make the choice between bringing her child to work with her or leaving them behind. She just has to do what she needs to do to make sure her kid is safe, there's no failing for her. During her pregnancy, it's always going to be a matter of life and death. Jess is well aware and, instead of shying away from action, she's just committed to not making those kinds of mistakes. To get over her losses. She's going to take charge of her own world's destiny as she has always done and she's going to make sure it's good.
Her strong allegiance to Miguel's ideas is her most glaring flaw to us as an audience because A. we're seeing things through Miles' eyes, she's standing in the way of him saving his father and B. we know that Miguel can't be right about canon events - we know they wouldn't make the movies as bleak as that.
Of course, taking a step back from our perspective, it's also a flaw because she is being antagonistic to a teenager as a grown adult. It might make her seem cold and harsh.
However, Jess was the one to vouch for Gwen, to take her in, even though Miguel didn't want her to and they could have left things up to the web of destiny. Jess trusts her own capabilities but she doesn't trust the world to be kind. She doesn't assume Gwen can handle things just because she can, either. On top of being sympathetic, I think her dedication to being the change she wishes to see is why she accepts Gwen as a student; she trusts that a young girl can make the world a better place too, it's not a thing where she wants to micromanage everything. She just wants to know the multiverse is in safe hands. That's her "great responsibility".
The only reason she is following the anti-Miles agenda is because Miles, as far as she and anybody else in-movie knows, is jeopardising the existence of every universe (insidiously via the holes). Maybe, in another position, say, a bright-eyed teen who mainly worried about high school and puppy love, she would be more willing to risk things, to see how it goes.
She's not in that position though. Her world that she felt confident she had the power to keep safe has been made uncertain. One day, it could just go poof, along with her baby, and she wouldn't be able to stop it in the moment. If she makes the right decision now, if she doesn't make a mistake, she can prevent it. It's understandable that she's going to do whatever it takes to prevent anomalies.
What was the canon event chosen to represent her?
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Her version of the moment from "The Final Chapter".
It comes from a story that largely focuses on Peter's personal life before spiralling into action to make up for a mistake that has made Aunt May fatally ill. In the panel, Spider-Man is trapped under machinery with the cure - the thing that will absolve the mistake - just out of reach. As the lair is flooded, drowning is imminent.
Against all odds, though, Spider-Man pushes past what should have killed him and rises to the occasion, with the thoughts of saving Aunt May and refusing to have a repeat of Uncle Ben.
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"I won't fail you. No matter what - I won't fail."
Jess has had to handle her own fate as well as her world's. Now that the multiverse is involved, it's not going to stop at her own universe. She has to stop this. She won't fail. As per the dialogue between her and Gwen in ATSV, she's made a mistake before (by getting too close to someone) but she tells Gwen "I got over it". Sounds so savage in the moment but she still gives Gwen a chance to make her own situation right before letting her get kicked off the team. Helping Gwen in spite of the anomaly would be a mistake if she couldn't handle this.
And when the Spot gets away and Miles enters the picture? The gloves come off. It's tempting fate at that point. Jess' no mistakes mindset pushes her to even prepare to roll up on a teenager.*
Her greatest strength is her resolve - I mean, hell, she doesn't let even pregnancy slow her down when it comes to saving the world - but it causes her to be stubborn and leads her down a misguided path.
*By the end of the film, she seems to be questioning Miguel's method, though. On top of the fact that BTSV is obviously going to end on a good note, I think Jess' fight against destiny is going to have her come around in the end as Miles is doing the same thing.
Onto Hobie:
I luv luv luv Hobie as much as everyone else, he's definitely my favourite but I feel he has his flaws too (which tend to make me love my faves more lol).
In fact, I think he says what they are when we first meet him, though they are veiled as jokes.
I find that the audience tends to position him as a perfect distillation of anarcho-communism at its best. I think the teen spideys see him in a similar light; they see him as effortlessly cool & charismatic, a wise mentor figure ("use your palms" + his play fighting with Pavitr featured him taking on the stance of a boxing trainer as Pavitr tried to punch his palms) but he's not like the adult adults - he's relatable, he's cool, he's anarchist, he's not always on their case like Jess and Miguel.
He neither calls himself a hero nor a role model... but he is the perfect hero and role model, right? He's the best! He's the only one who's looking out for Miles and, when Miles is getting chased down by the entire society, what does he do?
He... quits.
Wouldn't that perfect hero we all believe him to be swoop in with his cape, know exactly what to do and save Miles, the underdog? He can't have possibly known Miles would manage against the society and, if he knew it was possible, then why wouldn't he lend a hand? He didn't drop off the watch in Miles' dimension, he gave one to his bestie, Gwen, likely in the scenario that she wanted to quit or got booted because 'it [didn't] work out'.**
I think Hobie's major flaw is his lack of consistency, as he famously said himself.
He has a strong moral code - he believes in the right things for the right reasons... but communism and anarchy are pretty much impossible to properly/entirely employ in a system that is consumerist, capitalist and authoritarian. He riots, he fights, but it's never over. London isn't free. In my experience, people with strong moral compasses tend to have issues with themselves because they hold others to higher standards than most and hold themselves to even higher and impossible standards (think Diane from Bojack Horseman).
One of the first comic panels I encountered of Hobie was him getting real with Captain Anarchy about losing morale because, despite killing President Ozzy Osborne, the face of fascism in his dystopia, nothing changes. He wasn't able to save the world like a hero in a movie or like a proper role model. He 'failed'. When you give your everything and nothing changes, no matter how optimistic, clever or read-up on theory you are, it can be hard to keep going.
And what is chosen as his defining canon event?
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His version of Spider-Man quitting in "Spider-Man No More". Rather than being fed up with the world antagonising him as 616 is, Hobie is done with an antagonistic world.
The Hobie/Spider-Punk that has been built up externally, as far as I understand, would never give up. He'd keep raging forever and ever because that's the cool thing to do, because it's the heroic thing to do - because it's the right thing to do.
But under the mask, he's just a teenager, imperfect as any other.
He's still a Spider-Man too. Before the bite, he was another lanky black boy in racist-af, peak National Front, send-the-blacks-and-the-Asians-back, '70s England. He's a nerd, as evidenced by his ability to build such a high-tech watch, especially as a teenager who wouldn't have had access to anything like it until joining the society, meaning he had to pick it up quick. And I'm to think he didn't have any Flash-esque characters in his life? "Come out of it."
As Spider-Man with the mask on, he yells to the rooftops; as Hobie with the mask off, he mumbles and whispers. Sure he looks cool now but people don't tend to come out of the womb as Spider-Punk. On top of that, he's still so young and surely has plenty of room to grow.
I believe he joined the society in earnest, optimistic that he could help the multiverse but eventually reached his limits with actively facilitating death and trauma, with saving the multiverse not meaning freedom in his own universe, with being shackled to the web of destiny. I'm not convinced he made the watch in one day; I think he had been planning on quitting for some time and was waiting for the right moment (as he also wanted to support Gwen because friendship is important to him). That's why he tries to dissuade Miles from joining but, when he does leave, he doesn't go out in a riot, he doesn't even leave knowing that Miles has people on his side other than him. Hobie just quits.
I think his greatest strength is his optimism (his anarcho-communism & adamance about "love, joy and freedom" as per the un-permitted performance art pieces in his montage) but he's smart and he's been through shit - he isn't naive like Pavitr or Miles - the great heights of that optimism lead to intensely low lows.
**(I don't really see why or how he would have been able to predict everything that happened in the chase. I know that the watch is set to 1610 but if Hobie believed Miles would make it out of 928 and get back to 1610, would that not be things 'working out'? Or did he predict that he would get to the go-home machine but was the only one who considered that he would be sent to the place his spider came from. Why? And why wouldn't he set the watch to 42 if he knew Miles wouldn't be in 1610? I feel like the 1610 on the interface is just there to be there and that Hobie gave Gwen the watch so she could have the freedom to leave 65 if she wanted to, in the event that she quit the society because they captured Miles or because Miguel kicked her out as Jess kept warning.)
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thesoftboiledegg · 4 months
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"Fear No Mort" was constant whiplash. In fact, I struggled to evaluate this episode at first because it was one twist after another. Throughout the episode, I had flashbacks to "M. Night Shaym-Aliens!" (the rap scene might've been a direct reference) and the Rickbot reveal in "Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation."
For better or worse, season seven's had a lot of callbacks and episodes that mirrored previous ones: "That's Amorte" played out like "Mortynight Run"; "Air Force Wong" brought together Dr. Wong, the president and Unity; "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie" was a "Get Schwifty" sequel.
Seasons six and seven have also piled on the fanservice. The first four seasons stubbornly refused to give us what we want, dangling fan theories or a gentler Rick in our faces before yanking it away. Rick started to change in season five, but it's another ten episodes before you get Rick in a suit and tie, Rick announcing that Rickcest is canon, Rick regularly going to therapy, Space Beth joining the family and other content that's floated around the fandom since 2017.
And let's not forget the big one: C-137 Rick and Morty, Prime Rick and Evil Morty in one episode, fighting and teaming up after we saw Evil Morty's once-forbidden backstory.
Some call it cheap thrills, but I call it a gift to the fandom that's patiently waited for the fakeouts to end. And now that I've said that: "Fear No Mort" was one giant fakeout.
But was it, though?
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This is the most unpopular opinion in the world, but I'm not invested in Rick and Diane's relationship. As a gay woman, I just don't connect with opposite-gender couples. Also, I dislike the trope of the idolized dead wife that the audience only learns about through her widower. She's not her own character, just an extension of the male protagonist.
When the fake Rick and Diane reconnected, I thought "Oh boy, this is getting cheesy." They're falling for each other again: check. Rick feels guilty about her death: check. We see how similar they are: check. Rick doesn't want to leave: aaaand, check.
I'm also a little lost after the ending. Morty was the only one in the hole, so why did we see all these scenes from fake Rick's perspective? Was an NPC really that busy?
How much we learned about Diane is debatable, too, since Morty never met her. I guess his ideas came from whatever Rick's told him and maybe the ship's voice since she's based on Diane.
I did like how the episode kept reminding us that Morty's still in the Fear Hole. I mean, we didn't know that, but we knew that. No "Are they in the Fear Hole or not??" until all the twists in the third act.
Aside from that, I don't want the show to revisit the past too much because Rick needs to let go. If you're a Marvel fan, you saw the backlash to Steve Rogers traveling back in time to spend a lifetime with Peggy in "Endgame." He had a life in the present, but he refused to move on.
Nostalgia makes us yearn for earlier years, but if Rick abandoned his family to live with Diane in another reality, I wouldn't call that a sweet ending. I'd call that a disappointment and a waste of his character.
Turns out, Rick never had that option at all.
Well...in a way, he did. And when Morty told him what he saw in the Fear Hole, Rick ran back to the restroom. He looked into the hole. He thought about it. And then he did what I wanted him to do, which was walk away. In this moment, he chose the present.
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Admittedly, Morty's fear came true: Rick didn't jump in the hole after him, he did just sit there and watch, and he didn't want to say that Morty's irreplaceable out loud. Plus, Rick was bewildered when Morty hugged him. But for the first time, instead of standing stiffly or gently pushing him away, Rick started to hug him back.
We also saw what Morty didn't: Rick smiling to himself after hanging up the picture of Morty that he kept in his wallet. He had the chance to wallow in shadows of the past, but he didn't take it. Rick chose him.
"Fear No Mort" could've ended with Rick just saying "Let's go" and leaving, but it didn't. Seasons one and two Rick would've bitched and moaned about Morty taking so long. Season three Rick would've left him there for a while to torment him. Season four Rick would've found a way to take advantage of this.
But seasons five, six, seven? That's real character development. That's what all the Twitter users saying "Wow, Rick and Morty is actually good" have been missing out on.
And for the first time in the series, a season didn't end with Rick relapsing or getting a (well-deserved) ass kicking. Is Morty going to get the grandfather that he deserves? Or will he move on, too, now that Rick's releasing his iron grip? Speculating is fun, but for now, let's focus on today.
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doraambrose · 3 months
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I see this alot in fanon and I think jason Todd's parents are completely misunderstood.
Disclaimer: I am not a victim of parents with drug abuse nor have a I ever done drugs. I sympathize and emphasize with people who struggle with drug abuse as there are many reasons to get into it and it's very hard on your body to get clean, I will link help organizations below. This does mean that I can be a little ignorant to the struggles so if I say anything offensive or wrong, please call me out and educate me so I don't make the same mistake
Jason's family has been retconned so many times, it's hard to keep it straight. But this is my headcannon based on what I've seen:
1. I feel like a lot of people write Willis Todd to be this awful abusive scumbag who hated his kid and his wife. If you are talking about young justice or arkhamverse, this canonically true, but I think that's far from the truth in the main universe, prime or whatever it's called. In batman 411, jason is clearly distraught by Willis' death and does try to avenge him by lashing out at Two face. We also can't forget about the incident with the penguin that led to the worst Bruce and jason characterization before gotham war. And that's because of one rhato issue where jason finally reads willis' letters (a truly heartbreaking issue: rhato rebirth 23)
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I believe that Willis wasn't a bad dad. Not a good dad, but not an awful abusive one. I 100% believe he has never abused his family in this universe. And you know what, he wasn't a great person. He was a drug dealer and then a henchmen. But he CARED. He cared about his family. He tried so hard to provide for Catherine and Jason for their medical bills, food, shelter. He just had a poor upbringing and some real shit luck, trying to survive in poverty in Gotham city.
2. Catherine has been written in fanon to be a perfect caring mother who was nothing but a victim. I believe that she wasn't as good of a mother and a person as people make her out to be. And we haven't seen everything, but I believe this because she seems selfish. She seems to put herself and her drug addiction before her family, doesn't seem to even try to get clean or take care of jason or provide. Look at these panels:
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She neglected Jason. He had to go out and put his life on the line day after day when it should've been the other way around. Jason was a kid. And don't get me wrong, she probably loved jason and had good intentions, no, she definitely loved him, or else jason wouldn't canonically think as highly of her and take care of her the way he did, but she wasn't perfect and I don't think she was as good of a mother as she's made out to be.
3. Canonically, jason seems to really care for Catherine, but not Willis. I have a theory about that. For why he thinks so highly of catherine: I've never had a parent who suffered from drug abuse, but I do have a parent who suffered from a lot of mental health issues like depression, diagnosed, and I feel like bpd, though it was never diagnosed. When things were bad, they were BAD. I witnessed a lot. But when things were good, things were REALLY GOOD. I feel like when Catherine would come off the drug haze, things were like that. She probably took care of him during those times and was loving and all that. Catherine is the one parent figure Jason has to hold onto (because of all the shit with Bruce, Sheila, etc.). He forcibly removes the bad shit she's done and hangs onto the good things she's done because she really did care about him and in life, it seems harder to hate your mom than your dad (from what i have heard when i did research on this from friends). I've done that for years, and idk if I'm explaining it right, but I think that's the best way I can. For why he doesn't love willis: I think up until he read the notes, he didn't have the full picture. From his perspective, willis leaves to do crime and then eventually gets caught and left forever. I think he blamed willis for making jason become "the man of the house" and have all this extra responsibility. Willis also strikes me as the type of parent who has trouble expressing feelings, so jason probably rarely, if ever, heard "I love you" from his dad. Willis also strikes me as the person who would believe that he needs to make his son stronger in order to survive, and there are a lot of parents like that, especially parents from a low income household or a history of poverty.
In conclusion, both parents were FAR from perfect parents, but they're not as evil or as innocent as people write them in fanon. They're just...people. fanon likes to write comic people as black or white, innocent or abusive, but in reality, It's a gray area. Willis had his flaws, I hc him as one of those old fashioned kind of dads who wants his son to be tough and strong and isn't good with sharing his feelings, but does truly care about his family and NEVER was abusive. Catherine was a mother who definitely cared about her family, but wasn't an innocent victim and had her own flaws.
Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk
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stxrvel · 4 months
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i don't wanna live forever (1)
summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
words: +4.5k
warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!
note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3
part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4
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When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.
They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.
You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.
Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.
Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.
“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.
“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”
But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.
“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.
You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.
“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.
The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.
You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.
You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?
Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.
“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”
Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.
“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”
You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.
“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”
“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.
“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”
Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.
“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.
Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.
Another empty casket.
“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”
You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.
“Yeah, let's go.”
The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.
Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.
Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.
Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.
You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.
You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.
But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.
Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.
She looked so different and the same at the same time.
You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.
“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.
“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.
During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.
When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.
Howard had died.
You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.
Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.
This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.
You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.
Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.
“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”
“Does Tony know?”
“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”
“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.
“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”
“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.
“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.
“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.
“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.
“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.
“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”
With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.
“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”
“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.
“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.
“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”
“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.
“And look how that turned out!”
Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.
You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.
“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.
“Do you think it is?”
“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”
You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.
And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.
However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.
The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.
During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.
After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.
She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.
For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?
You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.
You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.
“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.
“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”
“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.
“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”
“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”
“You look agitated, but I need-”
“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”
You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.
You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.
You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.
You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.
Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.
Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.
“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”
“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.
“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”
“We got a call from the Arctic.”
“From the Arctic?”
You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.
“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”
You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.
You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.
You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.
Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.
Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.
The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.
You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.
Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.
You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.
Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.
And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.
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damianbugs · 1 year
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dc might not like to address how they've unofficially retconned a lot of jasons original robin run to end up being absolutely classist, but i most certainly will bring it up whenever i can. while this is definitely narrative criticism, it is more of a study, as i am not expecting anyone, readers or dc, to really change how they view the todds.
jason goes from being a rather reserved, kind and genuinely friendly child to an angry and cruel boy who was contemplating murder at some point (batman: urban legends). not to mention willis going from an absent but well meaning man who turned to crime to support his family to now being an abusive father and husband. catherine todd was originally stated to have died from overdose, but was later confirmed in death in the family to pass away from cancer, so while the 'poor addict mother' stereotype still applies, it is more complicated in her case.
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it is no surprise that in modern tellings, all three of them represent very realistic forms of poverty. willis the abusive criminal, catherine the addict (her battle with cancer is always noticeably left out) and jason the violent child left to repeat the cycle.
dc simply couldn't allow the todd family to remain poor but an all in all good family (though i am careful to say they were perfect, past or present, since depending how you read him, willis can still be seen as a bad father and horrible husband), and instead had to dramatise negative stereotypes of poor people in order to really perpetuate the existence of jason being the "angry" robin. this mostly comes down to dc perhaps wanting to bury older comics featuring the original characterisation (since the only way to read them is through piracy), and there is no better way to do that than make his current characterisation nothing like his old one, at all.
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after all, how else can we ensure readers are aware of how angry, evil and emotionally unstable jason todd is, if not making his life the pinnacle of why poor people are terrible and should not have kids? dc is not trying to hide it at all, it's almost laughable.
while the blatant classism is very clearly the biggest issue, from a storytelling perspective it is also really disappointing. deconstructing catherine and willis todd to their morally reprehensible, abusive and neglectful 2d personalities in modern telling leaves a massive gap is what made jason so personable as robin. personally, i also think it takes away how homelessness and his own poverty seperate from his family might have affected jason's morals and opinions on certain topics — another aspect of his character that is very important but often undeveloped.
especially with jason; making him having always been this quick to rage and violent child/robin takes away the true devastation of his death and subsequent revival. he died an innocent, damaged and complicated but caring boy, and came back vengeful and spiteful. he is a boy who has suffered a lot in life, with a sick mother he had to provide for due to his absent father, who also died due to a life of crime — and yet jason broke free from the cycle and became something more.
he loved to learn, to go to school, to play sports and to help people. he loved being a hero, even when it got tough, and though sometimes it was hard to remember, he always tried to stay on the bright side of things.
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it's one of the main reasons bruce is so unable to process and accept his son's return, because to him, the person who came back is not the son he lost. though, that is another conversation entirely.
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on the one hand however, i can see why jason's current life story might be more appealing to certain readers (and depending on the work, fanon or canon, it can makes more sense). since now that he's broken out of the cycle of abuse, he can use his strength to protect other vulnerable people. the true 'people's hero' in a way batman and other adjacent vigilantes can not be.
it is just a little regrettable that to fulfill this, he and his family must adhere to classist stereotypes to make it more believable. after all, jason was very much the 'people's robin' even without all the retcons to his character. he has always stood up for people who couldn't do it themselves.
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missycolorful · 3 months
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Something really stood out to me during q!Philza's conversation with his eggs when they confronted him about being left behind at Etoiles' house. Because I realized a bit too late what the topic at hand was, and it made me realize why q!Phil was defensive and overexplaining his perspective in a situation where he made a mistake.
Because it's really all about what the situation was: Philza accidentally leaving them behind at Etoiles house. His kids, especially Tallulah, like to joke about being abandoned just for the sake of being dramatic. It's all jokes, yes! But they say as much here, and this time, it's a legitimate statement. He abandoned them, though accidentally. And they took that seriously. And abandon is kind of a scary word here. especially with Tallulah.
Philza knows she doesn't deal with the idea of abandonment well. She doesn't like being left behind, it makes her feel unloved. He doesn't want to do that to her. So when he did something stupid, he tries so hard to let them know that he didn't mean to, that he misunderstood and made a mistake. That he'd never abandon his kids, abandon Tallulah. He's a bit defensive because what they were saying, to him, sounded like they thought what he did was intentional, and that their hurt came from him doing it on purpose. So he overexplains himself so they understand that he wouldn't do that to them.
Of course, the problem is, he did, and even if it's accidental, it's still something that upset them and scared them. And incidental or otherwise, their feelings about the situation are still valid. Sure, nothing really wrong with explaining your perspective on the situation to clear the air, and it's easy to see why Philza would do that especially here. But yeah, q!Phil, you just had a birdbrain moment, you just gotta apologize and be more careful next time, that's all, man! Which, he did several times throughout the interaction, and to me, it seemed like afterward, he was being extra careful to keep an eye on them. So he's taking what came out of this situation fairly seriously!
But what I think is important to remember is that the Death family is so tightly-knit. They're all so important to each other, they rely on each other and they hold no secrets between one another. He never wants his children to think he'd leave them behind for any reason. It's just that he's a birdbrain sometimes, the dumbass <3
EDIT: hello, yes, yes, I talked a bit more about this scene and the implications of what was being discussed here! I even mention why this particular worry has manifested in Tallulah and Chayanne in particular as of recent!
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sunshine-jesse · 6 months
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The Incest End is Not The Bad End, Part 2: The Sane Ending Is Still A Bad Ending
In the first essay I wanted to deconstruct the idea that Ashley was the sole perpetrator of abuse. I wanted to take a look at how unhealthy their dynamic actually was and lay out clear indications that Ashley could, at the very least, fix her own problems, and wasn't a lost cause. I also wanted to show that them ending up together, be it romantically, in death, or even platonically (although I'm not convinced the Sane Burial ending can lead to that) was inevitable.
Here, however, I want to make a more difficult argument: That their relationship turning romantic is not just Not That Bad, but actually Good, at least in the context of what's best for the two of them in the long run. And to do that, I'm going to draw comparisons to the common narrative that it's the bad ending, again. I think it's the easiest way to explain my points, even though it might make me seem like I'm being contrarian or playing the Devil's Advocate.
But I'm not. I actually do think this is the only way they can heal. Why?
WELL.
My biggest driving factor for this belief is and always has been the difference in tone between the two endings. The 'correct' ending under conventional understandings of morality and relationships would be one where he breaks away from Ashley, but the only ending in which that's shown to be possible is the Decay ending. In the ending where Ashley has bullets in the gun (and therefore has control over the situation), she has to yield control over the situation to Andrew, and (going off the reading I established in the last essay) he understands and accepts just how much their dynamic means to him and how important Ashley really is to him.
In a sense, he self-actualizes in the same way he does in the Burial ending: Ashley yields control where it matters the most in both, resulting in him he fully understanding and accepting himself and what he wants, because Ashley's controlling nature no longer prevents him from seeing the truth. Ashley no longer casts a shadow that allows him to be blind to his true nature- his true desires.
In the Burial ending, he wants her either romantically and sexually (in the questionable ending) or as a friend (in the sane one). He lets go of his own need to control her, and accepts the fact that he was never better than her to begin with. In the Gun!Decay ending, he wants her dead. The damage has been done. Whatever final line was crossed made him realize that he can't control Ashley, and a world in which she cannot be controlled is one better off without her.
But in both, he can't live without her.
The tone of the Decay ending is tense. It's dismal. It's emotionally ravaging. Andrew is not acting like someone who wants to break free, he's acting like someone who has given up. He's angry and he's suicidal, but he no longer has any reservations about making intimate physical contact with Ashley.
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…and Ashley looks terrified and sad, especially in the last screenshot, which gives off some seriously dark implications about what Andrew might do to her in the Decay route.
He's given up on healing. He's given up on being normal. His heart and his mind both Decay as he's dragged along by an Ashley who's doing whatever she can to try to not allow a murder-suicide to happen and only making it worse in the process, because SHE has no foundation through which to improve or change her perspective on the world, either (more on that below).
In the NoGun!Decay ending, we don't know what he does after. He fails to self-actualize because Ashley never yields that need for control, and he follows the same pattern he always does of resorting to violence the moment he thinks he's losing control. I highly doubt that the ending would be much different- he'd probably just mirror Ashley's reaction of violently kicking the body at first, but he probably wouldn't last long after. Both, in an attempt to regain control or save their own lives, feel temporary relief at the death of the other, because they no longer feel trapped and afraid of what will happen if they leave.
But they also both fail to come into their own as people. Their dynamic- of Ashley being the morally bankrupt one willing to do anything to further their own survival, and Andrew being the one who's careful and calculating and preventing her short-sightedness from causing unintentional consequences- was the only thing that allowed them to survive in the first chapter, and more than likely the second (we don't see the consequences of them not having the trinket's power in ep2 so it's impossible to say for sure). If they don't kill themselves after losing the other and failing to self-actualize, it's almost certain that the world will eat them alive. They're outlaws, on the run, and have nobody to lean on but themselves. Without each other to lean on, it's only a matter of time until they fall.
So. The Decay ending is very obviously bad. There is no freedom to be had from them breaking away from the other; only despair and death. There's catharsis to be had in miserable people meeting a miserable end, sure, but the story goes out of its way to show us that the path to that end will be miserable and unfun and horrifying with the only joy to be derived from it coming from pure schadenfreude. But the story itself makes it clear that this is not intended to be a happy ending and thinking of it as such means you're fundamentally incompatible with what it's trying to convey. It's just a horrifying tragedy of two people who never gave each other what they needed to heal and tore down everything around them in the process.
So, how is the Burial ending better?
The lighter tone is immediately obvious. Ashley trusts Andrew to believe in her, and Andrew goes up to bat for Ashley even in the face of an arguably superficial offer to improve his life; to start it anew. The two just generally have a good time together afterwards, joking around, having fun, and ribbing on each other in a way that comes off as playful rather than hurtful. Andrew, finally, makes progress towards -healing,- because he finally stopped lying to himself about how important Ashley is to him. Why do I think it's a sign of healing, exactly?
Because Andrew, for the first time in the story, is comfortable with what he's doing.
He's comfortable with dismembering their parents. He's rarely tense, hesitates much less, and comforts Ashley instead of just seeking comfort from her. He gives more than just temporary emotional validation; a lot more. So much more, in fact, that it makes ASHLEY uncomfortable. She has difficulty processing not having their push and pull dynamic. She thinks something is off, something is wrong, because she's never seen Andrew so comfortable around her before, or at least lacking reservations in showing that comfort.
She still thinks about the idea of controlling him, of trying to get him to stay. There's internal monologue about it. But that's the difference. Before, we rarely see any internal monologue of her thought patterns- she just acts. Not thinks. But here, she's unsure. Here, she has to look inward. She has to self-reflect. She still frames it as her trying to keep Andy around, but Andrew is making it obvious in both words and actions that he will always be there for her, and he's so COMFORTABLE about it.
Regardless of what her actions in episode 3 end up being, it's still clear to me that the foundation for her to heal is there. She's safe, because she has a warm, comfortable place to return to while she figures herself out.
"So," you might be asking, "doesn't this imply that she'll heal no matter what? Doesn't that make incest technically unnecessary?"
Yes and no. Yes, in the fact that we still see a marked improvement in their dynamic in the Refusal path.
No, in that the Sane ending's tone is still much different.
After the dream sequence, Andrew reveals that he never fell asleep. He never sees that vision. He still self-actualizes to some degree, probably, but he never has his desires laid so bare for him because he doesn't dream. But you have to place sunlight on the left side to see this, so it still leads me to believe that they still grasp the importance of their relationship in that ending. It's just that…
I don't think that they ever, truly heal. I think that they just grow distant. I'll elaborate on what I think that means later down the line.
In the Sane ending, they have much less fun with each other. They don't playfully rib on each other as much- the eulogy in particular seems more spiteful than playful- and they're much less physically affectionate towards each other. It's not dismal. It's not dark or depressing. It's not tense. It's just… there. It's boring. Nothing has changed, and neither has Andrew, which Ashley views him not sleeping as a sign of.
But in the Questionable ending, he -does- sleep.
So what does sleep mean here? It means he can't sleep if he feels he's missing something. It means something is lacking in his life. Something is missing. Is it Ashley's affection? Well, yes, but also not just that. Ashley is just a representation of what he needs: Comfort. Someone to rely on. Someone he know won't leave him. I believe they have the same needs, and those needs just manifest differently. Andrew never had to worry about Ashley leaving him because Ashley was so obsessive that she managed to fill in the all-consuming void that mental illness creates.
But I think in the Sane ending, he starts to doubt that. In the Sane ending, he starts to shake his desire for Ashley. Which is great, right? It means they can finally go down a more conventional, safe path and have a relationship that's societally acceptable. The safe, boring ending that normies would enjoy.
But the fact that he doesn't sleep means that, even if he shakes that desire, he can't shake the need for what she provides.
Because he never sees the vision, he never gets that confirmation that he can pursue a more physically affectionate relationship with Ashley, and given that physical affection is a huge part of the equation for making him feel comfortable and happy (see: the couch scene, where he's the happiest he is in the whole game before the Burial route), he never truly believes he can seek it from her. He never gets it from the one person he trusts to always be around. He never gets that final affirmation that it's okay to be with the one person who has always mattered to him the most, and always will.
If we're to take the scenes at the end of episode 2 as metaphors for what will happen- or has to happen- for the siblings to get the best outcome for their well being (even at the expense of others), then the Questionable route involves Ashley loosening her grip on Andrew and having him naturally fill in the roles she wanted him to all along. But in the Sane route, Ashley bottles up every soul see shes, aside from what's commonly assumed to be Andrew's, who she is uncharacteristically cavalier about letting go.
She's still the same. She still wants to entrap people, and never let them go. She just happens to no longer want to do it to Andrew. She never fundamentally changes. And Andrew?
His soul has nothing to say. It's pitch black. It almost looks demonic, having literally the same color scheme as the Entity and Lord Unknown. If it's already demonic, then it stands to reason that a demon wouldn't want it, because it's just more of the same. Nothing special, nothing they would want, nothing that would be useful to them. In other words… just like Ashley?
He has- or will have- a tar soul.
And what does tar do?
It sticks.
It's the Sane path to take because it involves them conforming to societal expectations. It involves them fitting in, acting as they should, and doing what's expected of them without much fuss. But in the world they're in, they're expected to harm everyone around them. To kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. To never become themselves, and never be truly happy. To never ask questions.
And they'll do all of that, whether they stick together or not. The only difference is how many people they stand to hurt, and whether they're truly happy at the end of it all.
There's a reason the souls of one of the parents- commonly thought to be Mrs. Graves- was unhatched. She probably wanted to love her children. Even Ashley. She just never did, because the world never let her be herself. She never became whole, because it would've resulted in her being too dark to fit into society. But the siblings have a chance to do so. They have a chance to truly focus on each other so they can heal and become better, happier, more complete people in a world that's doing everything it can to incentivize otherwise.
It's just a bit unfortunate for some that Andrew has to fill a hole to become whole.
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