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solelifauna · 5 months ago

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Definitely NOT Invincible (Yandere Invincible & Reader)

Pt.3

When depression hits hard.

Later that day, you and your friends gathered at the usual spot behind the school—an old, forgotten storage shed that had become your makeshift meeting place. It was secluded enough to keep your conversations private, and right now, privacy was exactly what you needed.

You all sat in a circle, the air heavy with unspoken tension. The reunion earlier had been emotional, a moment of pure relief in the chaos, but now reality was crashing down on all of you. The weight of the situation pressed on your shoulders as you faced your friends, each of them looking as shaken as you felt.

“How the hell are we going to do this?” Hallie muttered, running her hands through her hair in frustration. “We have to stop the world from being taken over, fight off Demogorgons, and—” she gestured wildly, “go to school like nothing’s wrong? My mom’s already noticed I’m acting different. I’ve barely been back a day, and she’s asking questions.”

You winced. Hallie had always been the one who had a close relationship with her family, and hiding things from them wouldn’t be easy. If her mom was already suspicious, it was only a matter of time before she started digging deeper. “What did you tell her?” you asked quietly, dreading the answer.

“I told her I wasn’t sleeping well, which, I mean, isn’t a lie.” Hallie sighed. “But it’s more than that, you know? She can tell something’s off. I can’t just pretend everything’s fine. I’m… different. We all are.”

Connor, who had been sitting silently up until now, finally spoke up, his voice shaky. “My family knows something’s wrong too,” he said, staring down at his hands. “I had a full-blown panic attack yesterday when I heard explosions on the TV. It was just a show my brothers were watching, but… I freaked out. My parents had to spend half an hour calming me down and coaxing me out from under the table.”

His face was pale as he recalled the moment, and you could see his hands trembling slightly. The trauma of being in an active warzone, of watching the world fall apart, had left scars that none of you could hide. It wasn’t just the physical scars from fighting; it was the emotional ones, the kind that didn’t heal easily.

You all exchanged grim looks. None of you had really considered just how hard it would be to hide what you’d been through. Surviving in an apocalyptic world, facing death at the hands of the people who were supposed to protect you, and then actually dying—it was too much. Too much to carry, and now you were back, thrust into your old lives, expected to pretend like none of it had happened.

“I guess we didn’t think about the trauma,” Weston murmured, breaking the silence. “It’s not like we didn’t deal with it before… I mean, fighting Demogorgons wasn’t exactly easy on any of us, mentally or physically.”

He was right. In your previous life, the constant battles with Demogorgons had already left you scarred. You’d all had nightmares, sleepless nights, and moments of pure terror even back then. But now? Now there was another level of horror you had to contend with. The memory of your skull being crushed by your own father, the feel of death creeping in—it wasn’t something you could just shake off.

“And now we have even more to deal with,” You said grimly. “It’s not just the Demogorgons. We have to stop Omni-Man and Invincible from taking over the world. How the hell are we supposed to do that while we’re still dealing with all of this?”

You didn’t have an answer. No one did.

“It’s not fair,” Weston muttered, and all eyes turned to him. “Why does everything always fall on us to solve? We’re just kids! Freshmen in high school, for crying out loud! We should be–I don’t know, playing, going to parties, worrying about homework and who’s crushing on who.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Instead, we’re stuck trying to save the world, fighting monsters, and keeping it together so our families don’t figure out we’ve been dead. It’s not fair.”

His words hung in the air, the truth of them sinking into everyone’s minds. It wasn’t fair. Not in the slightest. You were all supposed to be worried about grades and fitting in, not about war, apocalypse, and death.

You sighed, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. It’s not fair. None of this is. But we don’t have a choice.”

“We never really did, did we?” Hallie said quietly. “Even before this—before all the time travel and Viltrumite stuff—fighting Demogorgons wasn’t exactly a normal kid thing.”

You sighed. He had a point. None of you had ever really been kids, not for a long time. While everyone else your age had been worried about tests and dances, you were out there fighting for your life, battling creatures that no one else even knew existed. The things you had seen, the things you had done—no child should have had to face that. You hadn’t felt like a kid in years.

“Feels like we never got to just be kids,” Connor murmured, his voice strained. “We’re always the ones stuck with the impossible. Every time, it’s on us to fix everything.”

You bit your lip, the anger inside you simmering. It was like the universe had decided to heap every impossible task on your shoulders, expecting you to carry the weight of the world while everyone else went on living their normal lives, oblivious. And now, even with the chance to live again, to be back in time, it still wasn’t really your life, was it? Not with everything you knew.

You were forced to be soldiers in a war that hadn’t even started yet, while everyone else was blissfully unaware of the destruction to come.

“I’m just tired,” you admitted, your voice softening, the exhaustion you felt finally bubbling to the surface. “We should’ve gotten to feel normal, at least for a little while.”

The group fell silent, the truth of your words settling in. No one argued with you because they all felt it too. The unfairness of it all was suffocating. None of you had been kids in a long time, even though, by all rights, you should’ve been. Life had robbed you of that, forcing you into roles you never should have had to take on.

“But,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat, “it doesn’t matter how tired we are. We don’t have the luxury of being kids anymore, do we?”

Hallie looked down at her feet, her lips pressed into a thin line. “We haven’t been kids for a while.”

You nodded, looking around at your friends—your teammates, your family. “And I guess we’re never going to be. So we have to handle this the way we always do.”

“We fight,” Weston said quietly, but with conviction.

“Yeah,” Connor agreed, though there was a distant, haunted look in his eyes. “We fight.”

It wasn’t fair. It never had been. But deep down, you knew you didn’t have a choice. You’d survived worse before, and now you had a second chance. As much as you wished things could be different, the reality was clear. The world needed saving, and once again, it was up to you to do it.

The conversation eventually shifted from emotions to logistics. You all knew what needed to be done, but the how of it was trickier. “We need to tip off the Guardians,” you said, glancing at your friends, who nodded grimly in agreement. “The sooner they know what’s coming, the better.”

Hallie bit her lip, thinking it over. “But it can’t come back to us,” she said, her voice firm. “If the government finds out it was us, we’re screwed. They’ll lock us down, probably treat us like we’re a threat or something.”

Weston nodded, his brow furrowed. “Yeah, and if Omni-Man and Invincible find out…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence. You all knew what would happen. If your father and brother found out you were behind the warning, they’d kill you without hesitation. You couldn’t afford to be sloppy about this.

“So we’re agreed then,” Connor said quietly. “No one can know it’s us. We have to figure out a way to warn the Guardians without leaving a trace. But… how?”

You all sat in silence for a moment, the question hanging in the air like a dark cloud. It wasn’t just about warning the Guardians—it was about doing it in a way that kept all of you safe. There were so many risks, so many things that could go wrong. You’d have to plan carefully, every detail accounted for.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said, though you didn’t sound nearly as confident as you wanted to. “We just… need more time. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Hallie sighed. “Yeah. But we can’t wait too long, either. The Guardians don’t have much time. We don’t have much time.”

Connor let out a shaky breath. “We’ll come up with something. We always do.”

The conversation continued for a little while longer, but there were no concrete solutions yet. The weight of everything was heavy, and the longer you talked, the more overwhelming it felt. Finally, you all came to an agreement—you’d figure out the details later. Right now, it was getting late, and school was looming over you like a grim reminder of the double life you had to live.

You hated it. The thought of going back to school, pretending everything was fine, acting normal when nothing was normal anymore. But for now, that’s what you had to do.

With another emotional goodbye, none of you really ready to leave each other, you finally parted ways. It was always hard to say goodbye these days, even though you knew you’d see each other the next day. Still, after everything you’d been through, every goodbye felt a little too final.

As you made your way home, the cool night air helped clear your mind a bit. But as you approached your house, you glanced at the time on your phone and cursed under your breath. It was late—too late for you to just walk through the front door without raising suspicion. You’d have to sneak back in, the way you’d done so many times before.

Luckily, your bedroom window was right next to a large tree, its thick branches stretching out toward the house. You’d used it countless times to sneak out during the night—mostly for Demogorgon hunts, other emergencies, or just moments when you needed to breathe. No one had ever noticed you were gone before, and you hoped tonight would be the same.

You scaled the tree easily, slipping through your window with practiced quietness. Your room was dark and empty, just as you’d left it. You landed on your feet with a soft thud, shutting the window behind you and breathing out a sigh of relief. Another successful sneak-in.

As you peeled off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, your mind buzzed with everything that had been said tonight. The Guardians. The warning. Your double life. You were exhausted, but sleep didn’t feel like an option. Your thoughts raced too fast, the weight of everything too heavy to ignore.

But you’d have to manage. You had school in the morning, and you had to act like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t living on borrowed time in a world that had no idea what was coming.

You stared at the ceiling, the darkness of your room feeling more suffocating than comforting.

We’ll figure it out, you reminded yourself.

But you couldn’t help wondering if there’d be enough time for that.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Your mind was racing with everything you had discussed with your friends—plans, risks, the weight of the world. You tossed and turned for hours, until at some point, exhaustion finally claimed you around 1 AM. But it wasn’t peaceful. Your sleep was fitful, plagued by nightmares that wrapped around your mind like chains.

Suddenly, you jerked awake, a small scream ripping through your throat. You bolted upright, cold sweat drenching your skin, your heart pounding in your chest as if it were trying to escape. For a moment, you couldn’t remember where you were—your mind still trapped in the vivid images of your dreams. It took a few seconds to realize you were in your bedroom, safe in the quiet of the night.

You took a few deep breaths, clutching your chest in a futile attempt to calm your racing heart. Your hands shook slightly as you ran them through your hair, trying to shake off the lingering terror of the nightmare. It had been so real, like you were reliving every moment of your death, your father’s hand crushing your skull all over again.

Carefully, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, your feet touching the cold floor as you nudged the door ajar. You peeked through the crack, listening for any signs of movement in the house. The hallway was dark and still, and after a few moments, you sighed in relief. It seemed like your scream hadn’t woken anyone up. The last thing you needed was to explain why you were screaming in the middle of the night.

You checked the time on your phone. 3:17 AM.

With a frustrated groan, you realized there was no way you were getting any more sleep tonight. You felt too wired, too shaken, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins from the nightmare. Instead of lying back down and risking another round of restless tossing, you decided to head downstairs.

The kitchen was your destination, and you had every intention of making yourself a cup of tea or coffee—anything to calm your nerves. But once you made it to the dining room, something inside you crumbled. You found yourself sitting down at the table instead, your head falling into your hands, elbows resting on the worn wood surface.

You zoned out, your mind going blank as you stared ahead, your hands cradling your head like you were trying to hold yourself together. You felt small. Pathetic, even. You couldn’t even bring yourself to make coffee, let alone deal with the impossible task that lay ahead of you. Everything felt too heavy, too overwhelming. For all the strength you had shown fighting Demogorgons and surviving the apocalypse, right now, in this quiet house, you felt more fragile than ever.

Unbeknownst to you, someone was watching.

From the shadows of the staircase, Mark stood silently, his eyes locked onto your hunched figure as you sat there, lost in your own world. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t move. He just watched.

From where he stood, you looked so small, almost frail. It was crazy to him that the two of you were even related, considering how different you were. You, with your fragile human body, your easily bruised emotions. He, on the other hand, had grown stronger, more powerful. The gap between the two of you had widened so much over the years that, in his eyes, you weren’t even in the same league anymore.

But that’s what Mark had always obsessively loved about you. His precious little sister. You were human, weak, and that meant you relied on him and Dad to protect you. To him, that was your role—to be the one he could shelter and protect. The one who couldn’t do it on her own.

At school, he had made it very clear to everyone: you were off-limits. No one dared lay a hand on you, not with Mark’s reputation looming over them. If anyone even thought about hurting you, they’d meet his fist—and death—before they had the chance to follow through. That was the silent promise he had made. Nobody was allowed to hurt you.

Except him and Dad.

As he stood there watching you, a strange mix of emotions twisted inside him. He couldn’t help but feel a strange satisfaction knowing you were dependent on him, that your weakness kept you under his protection. But at the same time, something about the way you looked tonight—hunched over in that chair, lost in your thoughts—stirred an odd feeling in him.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but something was off about you lately. He’d noticed it. The nervous energy, the odd silences, the way you seemed to be… slipping away from him somehow. But it didn’t matter. Whatever was going on, he’d keep a close eye on you. You were his sister, his responsibility.

And no one could take that from him.

Morning arrived far sooner than you would have liked. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, cutting through the quiet of the house and landing directly on your face. You groaned, blinking against the harsh light, realizing you hadn’t moved from the dining table. Your body ached from sitting hunched over in the chair for hours, your mind still foggy with the weight of your sleepless night.

Today was going to suck. A lot.

You rubbed your eyes, feeling the heaviness beneath them, the exhaustion settling into your bones. You could practically feel the bags under your eyes, the dull ache of tiredness seeping into your skin. You didn’t even need to look in a mirror to know you probably looked like a mess. Red-rimmed eyes, pale skin, and the exhaustion you could never quite hide.

Just get through the day, you told yourself, trying to muster some kind of resolve.

You slowly pushed yourself up from the chair, every muscle in your body protesting. The kitchen felt too quiet now, the soft sounds of the house waking up adding to the strange stillness of your thoughts.

Gods, you need a warm shower. Or maybe a baseball bat to the head.

With a tired groan, you shuffled toward the stairs, deciding a shower might at least help clear the fog in your mind. You hoped the hot water would be enough to wash away the exhaustion clinging to your body. Maybe it could ease the tightness in your chest.

You stripped off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your shoulders, washing away the cold sweat from last night’s nightmares. The warmth soothed your muscles, but it did little to ease the knot in your stomach. The events of last night, the conversation with your friends, the weight of everything still hung over you like a storm cloud.

There was no escape from it.

You sighed, leaning your head against the cool tile. The shower wasn’t helping as much as you had hoped. You were still exhausted, both physically and mentally. The knowledge that you had to face school today, pretend everything was normal while juggling this monumental responsibility, was almost too much to bear.

But you don’t have a choice.

You had to go on like you always did. Put on a brave face, go through the motions, act like everything was fine, and then meet with your friends later to figure out how to save the world. Again.

The water began to cool, and with another groan, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying yourself off. You stared at yourself in the mirror, wincing at your reflection. Red-rimmed eyes, pale skin, and exhaustion etched into every line of your face.

You look like a wreck, you thought, shaking your head. But there was no time to dwell on it. You had to get through the day, no matter what.

You sluggishly dried yourself off, the warm water doing little to shake the exhaustion clinging to you. Once you were dry, you threw on some clothes, not really caring much about what you wore today—just whatever was clean and comfortable. You glanced at the clock on your dresser. 7:00 AM.

School wouldn’t start until 8:20, so you had some time. Normally, you’d still be asleep, trying to squeeze in the last few minutes of rest before rushing to get ready. But after last night, sleep wasn’t really an option.

For the next thirty minutes, you just sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. You weren’t really looking for anything specific, just trying to remember who you used to be. Pictures of you and your friends popped up—Hallie, Connor, Weston. The four of you, smiling at the camera, carefree, before everything went to hell. Then there were other photos—random shots of acquaintances from school, parties you barely remembered attending, school dances where you smiled like the biggest worry in your life was whether your shoes matched your dress.

How different things had been. How different you had been.

The sound of movement from down the hall snapped you out of your thoughts. You heard Mark getting ready in his room, the familiar sounds of him moving around as he prepared for the day. Right. He drove you to school most mornings, and today would be no different.

You used to be excited about these car rides. Before, it was one of the few times you could really spend with Mark. He was a senior, always busy with schoolwork, football, or hanging out with his friends, so the drive to school was a guaranteed window of time where you could talk, laugh, and catch up.

But now? Now you dreaded it. The idea of sitting in a car with Mark, pretending everything was fine, made your stomach churn.

With a sigh, you got up from your bed, scrambling around to find your school bag. You mentally checked off the things you’d need for the day—binders, notebooks, pens—but your mind was elsewhere. Without thinking, you checked the small hidden compartment of your bag, making sure it was still packed.

A small knife. A bottle of hairspray. A lighter.

For the Demogorgons. Their biggest weakness was heat, especially fire, so you and your friends always carried around something to ignite them with. It had become second nature by now—packing your school bag with both homework and weapons. Sure, if the school ever found out you were carrying that stuff, you’d be expelled without question. But you were usually one of the good kids, known for being respectful and doing your work. That bought you a bit of leeway.

Did you occasionally miss class, ducking out to handle Demogorgons or chase down whatever creature was lurking nearby? Yes. And when you got caught? Detention. You smirked a little at the memory of you, Connor, Hallie, and Weston all sitting in detention together, exchanging looks across the room, barely holding in your laughter after a particularly difficult hunt. You had spent more than a few afternoons in those detention rooms, trying to explain your absences in ways that wouldn’t raise suspicion.

Grumbling at the thought, you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed downstairs. You grabbed a protein bar from the pantry as you slipped your shoes on, trying to push the nerves out of your stomach as you mentally prepared for the car ride with Mark.

You could hear him coming down the stairs behind you, and for a second, you froze, bracing yourself for the interaction. It felt like every moment with him now was tinged with tension, with the unspoken knowledge of what was to come.

“You ready to go?” Mark’s voice was casual, as if everything was normal.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile as you glanced over your shoulder at him.

He smiled back, though there was something in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the weight of everything you knew, or maybe it was just your paranoia creeping in, but for a brief second, you felt like he was watching you a little too closely.

You pushed the thought away and grabbed your jacket, trying to act like everything was fine. You think you’d gotten pretty good at lying and pretending everything was okay, i mean, you did successfully hide the fact that you hunt Demogorgons in your past life.

So, it should be no different this time around, right?

Taglist: @plsfckmedxddy, @marsmabe, @leiiasurez, @shycreatorreview, @naina326, @neverano, @couldeatthatgirlforlunch,

#neglected reader #platonic yandere #yandere invincible #yandere omniman #yandere mark grayson #yandere nolan grayson #debbie grayson #mark grayson #nolan grayson #omni man #invincible x reader #invincible

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pixelatedblues · 5 months ago

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ex so annoying u gotta reconnect with nature (a date with urself)

#ts4 #hallie #hallie save

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bitchinbarzal · 3 days ago

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He’s Here | Just Fine AU

Kaia’s hand was crushing Clayton’s.

She didn’t mean to — wasn’t even fully aware of it — but he didn’t let go. Not for a second. Not when her whole body shook, not when her sobs broke between each breath, not even when the nurses spoke in low, fast voices and the doctor calmly told her to push again, just one more time.

He didn’t let go.

And Kaia… she didn’t dare stop. Not now. Not this close.

The labor had been fast and brutal. She hadn’t even been sure it was real when the first contraction hit — just thought she’d stood too long, needed water, needed rest. But within thirty minutes she was doubled over in the car, Clayton speeding through red lights, her hand clutching the center console as she whispered, “Please. Please be okay. Stay.”

And now, here. The hospital room was too bright. Her skin was on fire. Her body was betraying her in strength and also saving her, one breath at a time. But all she could hear was her own fear. What if something goes wrong? What if he’s not crying? What if—

A sound cut through her thoughts.

A cry.

Sharp. Wet. New.

Kaia froze.

Clayton’s breath caught in his chest.

The nurse smiled. The doctor exhaled. And a moment later, a squirming, red, furious baby was held up, his tiny fists flailing, his scream echoing off the walls like salvation.

Kaia collapsed back against the pillows with a broken sob. Her legs trembled, her hands shook, but her chest cracked open with something she hadn’t felt in months.

Relief.

Joy.

Hope.

Clayton pressed his forehead to hers. He was crying silently, arms trembling, whispering, “He’s okay. He’s okay. You did it, baby. He’s here.”

When they placed the baby on Kaia’s chest, her heart nearly gave out.

He was warm and slick and so, so small — his skin pink, his cry softening instantly as he felt her heartbeat beneath his cheek. Her hand instinctively curved over his back, cradling his head.

And in that moment, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel this again,” she whispered. “Not after…”

Clayton kissed her temple. “He’s here.”

She nodded, eyes full of tears. “He’s really here.”

They stayed like that for a long time — the three of them tangled together, breathing in the smell of new life, Kaia gently rocking, Clayton whispering over and over: you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.

Then came the question.

“Have you picked a name?” the nurse asked softly.

Clayton looked at Kaia. She nodded.

“Miles Hall Keller.”

The nurse smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

Miles — for the distance they’d come.

Hall — for the sister who couldn’t stay, but would never be forgotten.

Keller — for the name they shared now, through everything.

Clayton reached down, kissed his son’s head, then Kaia’s.

Kaia just stared at Miles — at the soft tuft of hair, the pink wrinkled cheeks, the fingers wrapped around her thumb — and whispered, “You stayed.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed it.

The hospital room was quiet — calm in the way only a post-birth haze could bring. Kaia was propped up against pillows, Miles curled against her chest in his tiny blue blanket, breathing slow and even.

Clayton was pacing near the window.

Not anxious.

Just waiting.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” he asked, glancing at Kaia.

Kaia didn’t look up from Miles. “She’s stronger than we think.”

They both knew this moment mattered more than most. Elodie hadn’t met Hallie — hadn’t been there for the last time — but she knew. She’d seen her parents cry. She’d heard their quiet conversations. She knew what it meant to lose someone before they ever got to stay.

And now… here they were.

The door creaked open.

Elodie peeked in first, wide-eyed and cautious, her curls still messy from where she’d pulled them into a braid herself. She stepped in slowly, gripping Weston’s hand.

Behind them was Michael Kesselring, who had been tasked with keeping them company at home. Weston had yogurt on his sweater. Kess looked exhausted.

“We’re good,” he whispered. “They’ve been asking every five seconds.”

Kaia smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

Kess nodded and stepped back to let the kids through.

Elodie stood near the bed, frozen. Her eyes flicked from Kaia to the bundle in her arms. “That’s him?”

Kaia nodded. “This is Miles.”

Clayton crouched beside her. “Wanna come say hi?”

Weston didn’t wait — he toddled forward and practically launched himself onto the edge of the bed. “BABY!” he shrieked.

Miles startled but didn’t cry.

“Shhh, buddy,” Kaia whispered, smoothing Miles’ back. “Gentle voices.”

Weston grinned. “He’s so little!”

Elodie climbed up carefully, much slower than usual, and sat on Kaia’s other side. Her fingers hovered near the blanket but didn’t touch.

Kaia turned her slightly so she could see Miles’ face.

And that’s when Elodie’s eyes filled with tears.

Kaia stilled. “Bug?”

“I just…” Elodie sniffled. “I’m glad he’s here. I was really scared he wouldn’t be.”

Clayton sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay to be scared, baby. But he’s here. He’s safe.”

“I brought the bunny,” Elodie whispered, pulling a small pink stuffed bunny from behind her back — the one she had picked out months ago for the baby. “I thought maybe he’d want it.”

Kaia’s heart cracked wide open.

“You want him to have it?” she asked softly.

Elodie nodded.

“Then I think he’d love that.”

Very gently, Elodie tucked the bunny beside Miles. He twitched in his sleep, one tiny hand curling toward it.

“I like him,” Weston declared proudly, hugging Kaia’s arm. “He doesn’t yell yet.”

Elodie smiled, wiping her eyes. “He’s cute. He looks like Daddy.”

Clayton chuckled. “Poor kid.”

Kaia leaned her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around both of her babies. “He’s perfect.”

For the first time since they arrived, Elodie leaned fully into Kaia’s side, resting her head against her shoulder, just quiet. Still.

Kaia kissed her curls. “You did good, big sister.”

Elodie’s voice was a whisper. “You did good too.”

Clayton reached over, rested his hand on top of theirs — his family, all here, all whole.

And for that one, perfect moment, all five of them fit.

Exactly where they were meant to be.

#just fine au #miles keller

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sparkletastic-cookiedough · 6 months ago

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Dani pranks the justice league

The DC universe is about to collapse, Danny has to herd them out. (Prompt, as I am addicted to beginning stories and never finishing them)

Danny's family reincarnates (yet another prompt.)

Tim has infinite spleens

Jason can see through the fourth wall, and is not down for this Phantom of the Opera nonsense.

The Bats investigate Jazz

Wes is investigated by Superman, Magical shenanigans occur.

Catwoman steals an artifact that has a ghost in it.

Danny putting on his own Brucie Wayne act as Bruce's secretary

Jazz as Damian's Babysitter

Zatanna interacting with a Liminal Gotham

Danny is Batman's Clone (Dramatic Irony, my beloved)

John Constantine accidentally adopts Danny

Jason is dating Jazz, gets Tim and Danny to meet (mostly just Jason and Tim fluff)

Dash Baxter, Metropolis Cop (short)

Queer Platonic Relationship Fluff with Tim and Danny (features a prompty cliffhanger that goes absolutely nowhere)

Danny runs over Kori with a car (featuring yet another cliffhanger prompt ending that goes nowhere)

Clone Adoption Agency

Tim gets his spleen back from Cujo

Danny runs a daycare in Gotham

Maddie is Jim Gordon's Sister (short as heck and not great, but it's the first one I wrote, so it's special to me)

Batman Crossovers (No Danny Phantom edition)

Batman and the Muppets

Miraculous Ladybug: Marinette in Gotham (Fic itself is short, use of ai by another user in the beginning, more of a prompt than a post)

Batman x Game Changer: Robins do Robin trivia

Batman x BNHA: Batgirl gets isekaied into BNHA universe (Like the first chapter of a hypothetically longer fic)

Just Batman (and other DC characters)

Superbat Ship: featuring Batfam Fluff.

Jason can see through the fourth wall (short, more of a prompt than a post, and a continuation of the AU from an above DPxDC post.

Batfam tries to steal the watchtower (based on art!!!)

Matchmaker Tim Drake (again, more of a prompt)

Neurodivergent Batfam Moments

Hero Swap (Based on ART!!!)

Bruce Wayne time travels (short)

Bruce wearing his kids merch (short)

Clark Kent covering Bruce Wayne's drama

Superbat ship stuff (Short)

Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson & Harry Potter Crossover: Percy Jackson Vs Potions Class

Percy Jackson Gods react to Hadestown (Short)

Percy Jackson and Danny Phantom Crossover: Nico wants the Ghost King as his twitch username, but it's taken.

Other Fandoms

Gravity Falls: Levity Rises - the portal incident.

Just Danny Phantom: Jazz dealing with trauma (a bit of a character study, based on art)

Danny Phantom x BNHA crossover: Jazz and Nedzu meet.

BNHA: All Might and All for One completing to be the best dad. (Plot outline.)

BNHA: Izuku becomes a cult leader. (Plot outline)

Beetlejuice: cartoons episode plot outline based on someone’s art. (NEW)

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caeslxys · 8 months ago

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Something I think is extremely interesting thematically when it comes to connecting what Downfall and the ideas it tackled to the overarching narrative of campaign three is that the things Downfall made a point to showcase of Aeor—Cassida, Hallis, the visual of an aeormaton proposing to her partner, the specific and intentional decision to shed light on a far from insignificant amount of the population being civilians or refugees—is that it plays in perfect parallel across from what is happening (and, really, has been happening) to the ruidusborn on Exandria in present.

Bear with me for a moment. Aeor is ultimately a city that was collectively punished for the decisions of its leadership. We could (and, judging by the amount of discourse around this particular topic already, probably will) argue about what the Gods’ motivation for all of this was—whether it be that they could not, in the end, bear to kill their siblings or that they were terrified at the prospect of mortality—for me it is a very healthy dose of both—but for this I am much more interested in the latter. They were scared. That, really, is the driving force behind both this arc and their role in c3 as a whole.

Why I point this out is: It is far more interesting to me, especially as we go back to Bells Hells this week, to dissect the Gods and their decisions not purely on sympathetic motivation alone but as beings in the highest seat of power in the highest social class in Exandria.

So, having established that the Gods (in relation to mortals) are more a higher social class than anything we could compare to our real life understanding of divinity and that Aeor was eviscerated largely because of their fear—what is the difference between those innocents in Aeor caught in the trappings of their autocratic government leadership and a divine war on the ground, and those of the ruidusborn being manipulated both by Ludinus and by the very thing that inspired such visceral fear in the Gods to start with. I would argue very little.

I think of Cassida, doing what she genuinely thought was right and good and would save people, her son, and the object of her worship—and how that did not matter enough to any of them to spare her because of the fear they held at the very concept of mortality. I think of Liliana and Imogen, one of which we know begged for the gods to help her or send her a sign for years on years, and how every single one of their largest struggles could have been avoided had the gods loved them, their supposed children, as much as they feared what they could be. I think of how the thing that did save Imogen, in the end, was a woman who herself existed in direct defiance of the gods will. I think of that young boy, sixteen years old, that Laudna exalted on Ruidus.

I think it’s completely fair to judge Aeor’s overall society as deeply corrupt—it was!—but its leadership and police force are not a reflection of every one of its citizens. Similarly, it is fair to judge the Ruby Vanguard as corrupt—it is!—but its multiple heads of leadership and even the god-eater further are not a reflection of every one of its members.

Notably, and what I think the Hells will latch onto, this did not matter to the Gods. It did not matter that Cassida was trying to help. She was still too much of a risk. Will it matter, what Imogen does? Will it matter, if that young boy is in the blast radius when they decide to take no further chances?

I’ve seen a lot of people say that the Hells will side with the gods and I don’t think I agree. Especially as Imogen has been scolded and villainized over and over for daring to try and save her mother—who herself has been seen by some as an irredeemable evil in spite of her drive being the exact same—her family—but when it’s the Gods it’s justified? When it’s the Gods, it’s sympathetic? Too sympathetic to criticize further than “they’re family”?

I obviously do not think the Gods should die or be eaten or what have you, and I certainly don’t agree with Ludinus (though I find him much more compelling than just a variation of hubris wizard), but when talking about the Gods in Aeor and in present it isn’t really at all about their motivation or their family. It can’t be. Too many people, including our active protagonists, lives have been effected for it to be as cut and dry as “they’re family”. These are your children. They are your family, too.

#critical role #cr meta #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #imogen temult #liliana temult #ludinus da'leth #does this make sense. I feel like i lost my initial thread somewhere around the middle bc my brain is currently spread very thin #but tldr: it is extremely interesting to me that the fall of aeor is such a perfect parallel to the ruidusborn #i could also go on endlessly ENDLESSLY about how cassida and liliana play the exact same role #and also i could go on even longer on what divinity as a concept even means in a world like exandria #and how trying to compare it to our real life understanding of divinity is a bit fruitless #on the basis that a person can become a god alone but also that they themselves undeniably exist #but its so good. it ties in so well. brennan did a fucking fantastic job at capturing the abject horror of it all #also aabria iyengar if you can hear me PLEASE bring deanna back i will send you fifty dollars #and also hello i very briefly said hello at the live show and wanted to tell you how incredible i think you are but alas #where did these tags go #anyway #WOAH this is long. I should’ve been writing fic. alas.#really I don't think any of the hells are gonna be able to just. gloss over the casualties of it all. but especially mog and ashton and lau #tal has even already said that downfall made some things better for ash and some things Worse so I know I'm not too far off #I have. many many thought on how laudna will see it all too.#truly think she is going to be the most vocally horrified

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