#but there are Problems with it so here is me trying to fix them out of love for the series and franchise

[manorinthewoods]

((There's an awful lot of isekai ones, huh?))

Look.

I do not care about this Dark Lord.

These demons are Not My Problem. Anybody who summons random people from other dimensions to fix their issues does not deserve to have them fixed. Sure, the ritual isn't repeatable. I fixed that. It is now.

Earth's physics are awfully constrictive compared to this place. Conservation of energy? Not a thing here. I can generate infinite power as long as there's a manual operator involved. The square-cube law? Apparently, there's a spell to turn it off. I don't know how you can bend the laws of mathematics itself, but apparently, you can.

It's been hard to think of things to do with the sheer power of magic. Constraints breed creativity, after all, and it's hard to figure out how to exploit something without limits. So I've set myself to three goals, in particular. First, break the laws of magic to generate an infinite supply without being limited by the supply of mages willing to cast the same spell, constantly, for 8 hours a day. Second, figure out how to make souls that aren't attached to human bodies. Third, improve my own cognition, ideally ad infinitum.

Really, when you think about it, all of these are the same goal - learning how to manipulate souls. This is apparently Black Magic, but so's marketing, so I don't care. Unfortunately, I do care somewhat about my morals, so I can't go around dissecting souls to figure out what's going on with them.

I've been doing this, basically since I arrived. In order to pay for all the livestock I go through, I've needed to spend a lot of effort producing boring normal stuff, such as large towers that transmit mana across long distances. I've been trying to figure out how to reflect the mana across constellations, instead of just shooting it to the next mountain, but that's been tricky and also the last time I tried the Moon God tried to smite me. Got smote himself, though, so I'm not concerned about a repeat attempt.

Unfortunately, I have a more dangerous threat: Heroes. It appears that people are making good use of my Refined Hero-Summoning Ritual. I apparently count as villainous enough for the goddess of heroes to be able to empower people to stop me, despite the fact that I have not actually directly harmed anyone. It's really rather upsetting. I think the gods just don't like the fact that I want to mass-produce deific power.

My efforts to duplicate my own soul have, thus far, been ineffective. All I've succeeded at doing is teaching many other students my secrets. I have started a university, you see. It's an ideal format for study of magic. Also, it means that when the gods siege my capital, I have an army ready to shoot their wings off so I can analyse their material. I'm actually presently trying to provoke the gods into showing up again, because I've almost managed to replicate their wings. Then I'll build a wing factory and everyone will fly. Who needs cars when you have the ability to refute gravity with a stroke of your limbs?

"You're not going to take up the usual tools of combat, like bows or swords, to defeat the Dark Lord?" "No. I was an engineer on Earth, and now I find myself isekai'd to a place where I'm not bound by limitations like the square-cube law or thermodynamics. I'm gonna make some REAL weird shit!"

[er1nne]

fix this

⸝⸝⸝ ⑅ —໒ྀི ִֶָ rafe’s impulsive actions and failed attempt to fix things with a ignite a heated argument, leaving you feeling unseen and misunderstood.

word count 1.7k

warnings : yelling & arguments so angst but ends on a good note / fluff

AN: the problem is left ambiguous & left to the imagination so you can make up the problem, you guys loved the last one lol :) i have plenty more in the vault so let me know if y'all want them. enjoy!

(please do not copy or plagiarize, this is my original work subject to copyright)

Rafe knows he’s in deep shit. He can tell he’s in deep shit. And he barely knows how he got here...nope he totally know how he got here.

The weight of it presses on his chest like a cinder block, a suffocating reminder of the mess he’s made. It’s the first thing he feels when he hears your footsteps stomping up the stairs on to the porch. The tightness in his stomach churns, and his hands instinctively find the edge of the counter, gripping it hard enough that his knuckles pale.

He rubs his hand over his jaw, rough and restless, staring at the front door like it might swallow him whole. It doesn’t. The door swings open, and there you are—eyes already blazing with fury, every bit of it directed at him.

You slam the door behind you with a force that makes him flinch. The sharp crack of wood echoes in the silence before you speak.

“I can’t believe you, Rafe!” you snap, your voice trembling, sharp enough to cut. “Do you ever think? Like, at all?”

The way you look at him—like he’s the worst kind of idiot—makes him stiffen, though he leans back against the counter, trying to feign some level of calm. It doesn’t work. He hates that look, not just from you but from anybody.

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he says, shrugging in what he hopes comes off as nonchalant. But his voice falters just slightly, betraying him. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say, even as the words leave his mouth. Way to put a foot in your mouth.

“Oh, my God.” You throw your hands up, your movements jerky, overwhelmed. “You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Of course, you didn’t. You never think!”

The accusation hangs heavy in the air, sharp and piercing. He runs a hand through his hair, yanking at the strands in frustration. There you go again. Can't you tell he's sorry. Why'd you have to go there of all places. Why’d you have to say it like that? “Alright, just—calm down for a second,” he says, his tone already edging into defensive territory. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”

“Calm down?” you repeat, and there’s a bitter edge to your voice that makes his stomach twist. “You think I’m overreacting?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he fires back, the words snapping out of him before he can stop them. His shoulders are tense, his movements jerky as he gestures vaguely between the two of you. “I’m saying I didn’t mean for it to be��whatever this is.”

You scoff, shaking your head as if the audacity of his explanation is too much to comprehend. “Unbelievable. You don’t even get it, do you? You don’t care how this makes me feel. You just do whatever you want, and I’m supposed to just—deal with it?”

“That’s not fair,” he says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching as he pushes off the counter. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”

“But you didn’t care enough to stop and think about me, either,” you shoot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To know that I don’t even cross your mind when you make these dumb, impulsive decisions?”

The words hit him hard, like a gut punch he didn’t see coming. He exhales sharply, his frustration boiling over. He paces a few steps, his hands restless, like he’s trying to find an outlet for the tension coiling in his chest.

“Look, I—I’m trying, alright?” he says, his voice rough and strained. “I know I screwed up. That’s why I got you this.”

He gestures toward the counter, where an expensive box sits, perfectly wrapped with a crisp bow. It’s something he picked up earlier, certain it would fix everything. Now, standing here under your fiery gaze, it feels like a monument to his failure.

Your eyes flick to the box, then back to him, your expression darkening. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“What?” he says, his voice rising with confusion and a touch of defensiveness. He throws his arms out, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I was trying to—”

“It’s not about the damn gift, Rafe!” you yell, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your emotions. “This isn’t something you can fix with money. Do you think I’m that shallow? You think you can throw a couple of thousands at me and it'll make my feelings go away?”

Your breath stutters for a moment before continuing, “Do you think I’m like all the other girls you’ve bought? You can’t do that with me. You can’t just throw money at this and expect it to go away. You have to be a person—a human—with me.”

He flinches, the words cutting deeper than he cares to admit. “No, that’s not—I’m just trying to fix it, okay?” His voice rises in desperation now. “I don’t know what else you want from me!”

“I want you to feel something!” you snap, the tremor in your voice betraying the raw hurt beneath your anger. “I want you to stop throwing money at everything and actually care about how I feel. But I guess that’s asking too much.”

The accusation lands like a blow, and he’s left staring at you, at the tears brimming in your eyes. The anger drains from his face, leaving something raw and uncertain in its place.

“I do care,” he says quietly, his voice rough and uneven. “I just—I don’t know how to… do this.” His hands move in an awkward, aimless gesture, like the words he needs are somewhere just out of reach. His voice is low, almost a whisper. It’s the kind of vulnerability he doesn’t like showing—doesn’t know how to. But he can’t bring himself to look away from you as he peers at you with those icy eyes.

You scoff, shaking your head again, but you don’t storm out. He notices this, clings to it like a lifeline, grateful in a way he doesn’t know how to put into words.

“Look,” he says, stepping closer, his movements hesitant, cautious. His hands twitch at his sides like they’re drawn to you, but he doesn’t touch you—not yet. “I’m not good at this, alright? I screw up—a lot. But I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hate seeing you like this.”

Your shoulders sag, and for a moment, you look just as tired as he feels. “Then stop making me feel like I don’t matter,” you murmur, your voice softer now, but no less weighted. “Stop acting like I’m just… an afterthought.”

“You’re not,” he says quickly, his voice firm and insistent. He steps closer, his hands finally settling on your arms. “You’re not an afterthought, okay? You’re—you’re everything to me. I just don’t know how to show it sometimes.”

For a moment, you don’t respond. You just stand there, his hands warm and solid against your arms, the tension between you palpable. Then, slowly, you look up at him.

“I just need to know you’re willing to change, I need you to try...” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion.

The room feels smaller now, the space between you charged but quieter. His hand moves, almost hesitantly, until it settles lightly on your arm. “I don’t know how to do this,” he repeats, his voice rough and uneven. “But I want to. For you.”

You search his face, your gaze lingering on his eyes like you’re trying to find something—sincerity, maybe. And when you finally nod, your body relaxing slightly in his grip, it feels like the first breath he’s taken in hours.

“You better,” you say, your voice quiet but steady now.

“I will,” he promises. Rafe’s lips twitch upward, his own smile soft and unsure. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His arms wrap around the entirety of your body, holding you in his warm embrace like he never wants to let go. You feel his heartbeat against yours as the remenants of his anger fade away.

It’s not a perfect fix. Not even close. But as he holds you close, he feels like maybe, just maybe, he’s finally starting to understand.

divider by @crazyfrm!

[divinegrey]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 / 𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

hi folks! it's good to be back and stretching my writing legs again. starting off with a caitlyn prompt! this could be read as a stand-alone or as a continuation of another caitlyn fic, broken pillars.

prompt: heyya! i'm absolutely in love with caitlyn AND your writing, so i was hoping we could combine the two :DD maybe something along the lines of cait x reader, a continuation of "broken pillars"? reader was injured in the blast, and Cait helps them/her (whatever you prefer) recover. maybe reader sees how much ambessa is manipulating her, and they end up getting into a fight over what's right?

words: 1162

warnings: mentions of violence, light angst, happy ending

“Caitlyn, this crusade is only going to end in more violence. You can’t possibly not see that!”

The Kiramman library has become something more of a battleground, in recent days. You were finally discharged from the hospital after extensive care to the leg you lost in what has been dubbed one of the worst terrorist incidents of Piltover’s history. And in those days since you’ve been home, you’ve become privy to every single thing that happened, everything that Caitlyn went through in her attempt to find Silco. 

Now Silco’s dead, and the whole of Zaun is in disarray. It only took one woman stepping in at the right time for Piltover to begin mobilizing; Ambessa Medarda. 

“It will be necessary for the safety of Piltover, our safety that we find Jinx and put her into Stillwater. She cannot be allowed to remain free for what she did to you,” Caitlyn says, standing at all too far a distance from you. She’s unreachable, has felt utterly unreachable ever since the explosion. Between tending to you, you know the gaps of time when she wasn’t at the hospital was spent sitting beside the famed warlord of Noxus. 

You’ve seen the change happen before your very eyes. It makes you scared. 

Pushing your hands on the wheels of your chair closer, you try again. “Cait, please, just listen to yourself. You’re suggesting arming an entire battalion of Enforcers and leading them into Zaun will fix the problem. You tried the strike team, it didn’t work the way you wanted it to, but that doesn’t mean—” 

“Until Jinx is behind bars, we are not safe.” Caitlyn’s stare is steely, but therein lies the exhaustion found in the bags of her eyes. Neither of you have been sleeping all too well; she comes into bed late at night when you’ve tired yourself out trying to stay up, and she rises before you have a chance to kiss her good morning. Caitlyn turns, hands on her hips. “You are not safe. I cannot stand for it.” 

“So, what? You slap a gun into every willing hand and shoot every Zaunite that gets in the way?” You sigh, leaning back against the cushion with a sigh. “And you’re fine with that? I know you, you’re smarter than this.” You wheel yourself closer to her side, taking her hand. “I know that this has left you distraught. Your mother in a coma, me in a wheelchair, but we are both still here, Caitlyn. An eye for an eye. You took Silco out, the Undercity is in chaos. People down there are scared. The Caitlyn I know and love wouldn’t be putting together weapons; she would be putting together aid, a plan to unite Zaun peacefully as possible.” 

Caitlyn doesn’t look at you. Rather, the fire that burns in the library hearth, the flames reflected and dancing in her eyes. She squeezes your hand, the callouses from shooting for so many years evident on her fingertips. Her throat bobs with a swallow. 

“It makes me scared, Cait. To know that Ambessa is saying these things into your ear and it feels like I can’t even get through to you,” you start, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. “I’ve been friends with Mel long enough to get a sense of what her mother is like, I’ve studied enough politics to know what Noxus prioritizes. Strength and power. They see that in Hextech. That is all they want. They don’t care if they have to start a war to get it, because that is what they’re good at.” 

Caitlyn blinks, and for the first time in days, you see a tear fall from her eyes. Her chest rises with a heavy breath. “I failed to keep you safe. I had an opportunity to pull the trigger on Jinx. Vi, she— she weakened me. I wanted so badly to believe there was a way to end all of this with everyone alive, and the cost of believing that was nearly losing you and my mother.” A small scoff. “If my mother will ever wake up.” 

“Look at me.” You tug on her arm, and only then does she turn to you. You make a gesture for her to sit down on an armchair and she follows, slumping with an exhaustion you both feel in your bones. You take your hands and hold them tightly. “You can’t burden yourself with every ounce of responsibility, Caitlyn. You are one of the strongest people I know, but even you will crack under that pressure. Please, just give yourself some more time, give Mel and I some more time to try and put together a plan. The Council is angry. Ambessa has power enough as it is, but what she sees in you is someone to exploit. Grief is a powerful motivator; all I ask is that you don’t let it motivate you into something you’ll regret.” 

If it weren’t for you holding her hands, you might not have noticed the shake in her fingers. You know your girlfriend well enough to understand that the shaking only comes when the stress has built up so much that it reaches her hands; a sharpshooter can’t risk shaking hands when they need to take the shot. With something of a forlorn smile, you bend your head, trying to catch her eyes. 

“Love, I promise, you didn’t fail me. Nor your mother. I’m still here, and I still love you so, very deeply with everything I have in my heart. So please, if there is any guilt or grief you carry about me, drop it. Because I am with you, until the end of time,” you say, pouring every ounce of devotion that you possibly can into your words. What you see in turn is the exterior of Caitlyn’s armor cracking, the tears falling, and you cup her face within your hands, bringing her eyes to yours. “I love you, Caitlyn Kiramman.” 

Her hands hold your wrists tight; it’ll take time for her to lay down her guilt, and you’re happy to stand beside her in the meantime. You kiss her, soft and tender, the salt from her tears on your lips but you couldn’t care less. You survived death and lost a leg, a grief that will settle, but you count your blessings where you can find them. Your family is still alive, Caitlyn is still alive, and her parents are still alive. 

It will have to be enough. 

“I love you,” Caitlyn whispers into your mouth. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Your heart is safe with me, and mine with yours. There is a light at the end of this tunnel; we need only find it, okay?” You stroke her cheekbone with your thumb, wiping away the tears as they come. She nods, resting her forehead against yours. 

Only time will tell of what happens to Piltover and Zaun, but you breathe easier, knowing you have your partner at your side. 

~~~~~

A/N: thank you for reading! anon, i hope this was what you wanted!

[icarusredwings]

Hmhmm I agree it would be interesting to see what would happen if Wade just kinda suddenly regressed really young, maybe something ends up suddenly triggering it and they both have to deal with the aftermath?

Can't really think of anything doing that in their lil home, it could be something that happens while they're out and about-maybe someone says something, maybe they witness something, it just... happens. Could be a positive or negative trigger, either way I'm sure Logan will certainly have A Time and will totally not burst a blood vessel!

The man in the hat.

A truama induced little Wade fix it fic.

Tw: Canon usual blood, violence, murder and cursing, mentions of past child abuse, shutting down.

It didn't usually end up like this. Ussually he would be chasing his husband down by now and yelling at him that he can't commit murder in broad daylight, followed by the lines of "fuckin watch me!" But this time was different.

Why they kept sending these poor guys out near their block every year was a mystery because since Logan's moved in, every single one of them has "disappeared" one way or another. It wasn't rocket science to figure out who's blood was on his clothes when he came home. Let's just leave it at that.

For some reason, here again was another scout leader handing out flyers and collecting donations only 2 blocks from their house, standing outside on the corner of their Bodgea. So, it's not too terrible. They could just go around the other way, it wouldn't be a problem.

"Hey bub, I think I wanna take the other way. See that big fluffy dog you like." He says, but it was too late. Wade had already planted his feet on the concrete, becoming an obstacle to the foot traffic.

"Oi! Move it!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Logan would growl at them, now holding his wrist a bit tighter, tugging.

"Wade? Come on, sweetheart. Do you remember? That big dog?"

He said nothing. Only.. stared. Logan could hear his heart rate quicken, how suddenly nervous and scared he smelt, but... something was different.

Whimpering, he shuts down, balling up right then and there, pulling his legs up to his chest as he clung to Logan's leg.

The scuffy man blinks a few times before realizing "Ooh for fucks sake, right now? You're doing this here!? Out of all the times that you-"

Wade was crying, starting to shake and had his nails dug into his jeans.

"Okay, okay. Come'ere I got you, he wont- aww fuck.." The idiot was walking towards them.

Letting out a little scream, Logan quickly picked him up, holding him tight and shushing him. "Shh, shhh, I won't let him. I promise. You're okay. I got you." He says to him, but mentally, he was panicking. Why was he coming over here!?

Did he WANT stabbed???

As a matter of fact, It seemed that Wade was far too small to even remember his knives, just clinging to him as if the man would take him away.. hurt him.. and hold him down. It's part of the reasons Logan couldn't hold him still when like this, or else he panicked and kicked or stabbed him in the balls.

Mother fucker.. If he was still alive he'd tie him up and let small Wade kill him all over again. He'd stand by, encouraging him to do it and everything. Logans never wanted to do something like that before. Maybe it was the X-men in him. The goody two shoes rule of "No killing" but fuck that. If a grown man could hurt a little kid like that, the kid should get to stab them a couple of times. It was only fair, right?

Through the overwhelming amount of people, the man getting closer, and the fact that Wade was clawing at him as if trying to get as far away as possible, he growled, holding him tight as he walked forward.

"Hi! Would you like to-"

Grabbing him by the collar, he pulled him up off the ground, pulling him close to his face, gritting his teeth. Wade screams again, now sobbing loudly into his shoulder, wrapping his legs around his waist as he shook, utterly petrified.

"If you EVER touch him or ANY fucking kid ever again, I will personally gut you and watch as the buzzards pluck out your inners one by one, you understand!?" Logan snarls, baring those fangs of his.

Quickly the man nods, his hands up. "I-i understand!" Before Logan tosses him to the ground, stomping off with a huff.

"I got him, kid. Don't worry. He won't ever talk to you ever again. Kitty got him." Logan says to soothe him, Hearing his heart still pound, but now Wade was looking at the man scramble to pick up his hat and run away.

Logan could almost hear the moment of clairity when Wade's mind went quiet, trying to process what just happened.

"G-.. got'em?"

"Yeah. Kitty Got'em. Don't worry." He repeats.

The whole way home, Wade stayed like this, Alert and stayed over Logan's shoulder, keeping watch.

"He's not gonna come back, bub. Swear. And if he does, Kitty will kill him."

"....." the silence that follows was that of a curious wonder. ".. pinky palmise?"

"Pinky promise." Locking his pinky to his, Wade settles down, shifting to lay his chin on Logan's shoulder, but still watching.

____

"What are you doing, kid?"

"...." There was no response from wade, who was now looking- scratch that- STARING out the window with such big yellow eyes. Waiting.

Logan sighs, closing the curtian only for Wade to go underneth of it, hands on the windowsill.

"Wade.. I got him. He's gone."

"......"

"Sweetheart, he's not coming back. Pinky promise, remember? Now come on. Eat your food its bedtime soon."

But still Wade didn't move. At least he was off of Logan now, but now he was on the back of the couch, staring like a gaurd dog, watching for the man in the hat.

"......"

"Wade? ... Wade??" Shaking his shoulder a little, Wade jumps, looking at him with scared teary eyes.

He sighs. "... you really aren't going to go to bed, are you? Alright.." With a groan, Logan goes to the door. "I'll be back, don't stay up too late."

Staying up at the window, Wade watched.. and watched.. and watched until finally he saw Logan coming back, bloody and red.

"There. No more man in the hat. Now can you please go to bed?"

From the windowsill, Wade pauses, looking over him.

".......Kitty got'em..?"

"Kitty Got'em." He confirms.

Wade jumps up, running to him only to hug him tightly. Giggling, Wade nuzzles into his chest, thanking him for taking care of it for him.

"Hey.. there you are.. I told you not to worry about it. I said I would protect you, and I did. Now go on. Off to bed with you." He says, squeezing back then patting him. "Go on, shoo. Kitty got'em, and I've got you. You're safe."

Watching Wade run off and close the door, he made his way to the bathroom, beginning to wash off his hands.

'Thank god for red paint..'

[anamainiac]

I wanna share an experience that happened to me here on tumblr just in case it happens to someone else too. I’ve personally been on the biggest hiatus ever due to several reasons, but what keeps me motivated to at least try again is seeing a good fic and the comments on said fics. One day I logged on and noticed I couldn’t comment on a fic I had found nor reblog it. I thought, “huh, they must have blocked me.” But they hadn’t! We were mutuals! It was odd, but I continued to look through my fy page and went to comment on several pieces of art and not a single post would allow me to comment or reblog.

I knew that I couldn’t be blocked by literally every single account on tumblr. So why was that happening? Because tumblr sometimes likes to shadow ban people. It doesn’t affect your account in any way other than basically shutting you out as if your account isn’t there. If you have this problem, blow up tumblr support for them to fix the problem.

I hated no commenting or reblogging things I loved. If this isn’t an issue for you then please comment, like, reblog! The amount of times I go back to old works just to read the comments because I remember how much they made me laugh or smile is a crazy huge number. I’ve taken screenshots of some comments that just melted my heart or made me cry from happiness because looking at them on a bad day just helps in ways you can’t imagine. Even if you think it’s a little cringy or that the comment isn’t on par with the creators writing, or even if you think it’s not gonna be seen, write it cause you never know. That comment might just save an author from giving up.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[floralcavern]

Charlie and Vaggie are BORING.

For a while, I was a Charlastor shipper. Then they were like “but what if Alastor had a maturity level to be her dad?” so I was like “Oh, nevermind-“ and now I’m highkey a Charlie x Emily shipper. But why, why, WHY is Charlie x Vaggie so damn BORING?! Well, here’s some good videos to watch on that before I discuss-

So, what could have been done to fix this? Because I usually LOVE the black cat x golden retriever ship? But the fun part of it is seeing how they bounce off each other/affect each other. We kind of get that, but like… every characters’ relationship in this series is so shallow that we don’t get it much. And Charlie is just a bad protag overall, but, whatever..

So, Charlie being THIS naive pisses me off. She is the Princess of Hell!!!!! Why is she so clueless about everything? There’s a difference between positivity and seeing the best in everyone vs being… kind of stupid. And what makes it more annoying is that Vaggie is more self aware of how this place works than Charlie, THE HELLBORN. I think it would not only be more fun, but also make more sense, if Vaggie was more naive than Charlie about how this place works. They can still keep their same personalities, of course, but Vaggie still thinks and remembers how Heaven functioned and worked and Charlie, trying to be ever so positive, is just like “Oh.. ya.. another turf war. But hey! Only 100 people died this time! Ahaha.. ha..” and Vaggie, being an exorcist Angel, is like, “Ya, aha… WAIT, WHAT-???” because she’s still just not entirely used to that idea and then she’s like, “Oh, right.. ya, that’s not that bad,” when she remembers just HOW bad this place is. Like, she goes in expecting the worst because she already thinks everyone here is awful, but then she’s always thrown for a loop for just how awful it really is. I can imagine this would be pretty funny.

“You disgusting sinner. I can only imagine the absolute vile things you did, you-!”

“Ya, I exploited babies.”

“….You what?”

“I exploited. Babies.”

“….H-How? How do you do that? What? Why? What the fuck???”

Also, MAKE CHARLIE CRASS! But, like, in such a sweetheart kind of way. If characters are going to swear, give them their own ways and cadences for how they do it, rather than making them all sound like middle schoolers. That was something I really liked they did with Alastor.

Charlie, when she swears, it just doesn’t sound mean at all. When she says bitch, it sounds like she’s saying “sweetheart”. When she says fuck, it’s purely out of excitement and joy. But, she is crass because she was born and raised here and Vaggie, meanwhile, never swears (because in my version, the angels never swear, not even the exorcists) until the series goes on and she does it more and more with more aggression. I think that’d be funny, especially if it was Charlie’s influence that rubbed off on her.

Also, one thing I’d find interesting for a good arc between their relationship that would make them come out stronger in the end is if Vaggie was, like.. accidentally racist toward Charlie on multiple occasions. Charlie, being a sweetheart, is like “Oh, no, pffft, i-it’s fine! She didn’t mean it!” and everyone else at the hotel is like “🤨” but after Vaggie being an exorcist is revealed, Charlie snaps more at Vaggie when she undermines Charlie for being hellborn, eventually calling her out. I can believe Charlie forgiving Vaggie fast for being an exorcist, that’s in character, but that’s the problem! Because then, it feels kind of… ‘eh’ and like it really didn’t do much to develop their relationship. Giving it some sort of barrier that’s been around since the very beginning that Charlie now finally has the courage to call Vaggie out on will make it feel like there’s actual change in the relationship.

And now… SHOW THEM DO COUPLE SHIT! Or, at the very least, them having an actual dynamic rather than just “I protect youuuuu…” I swear, background handholding and stuff is fine, but it’s all fluff!!! Show what they’re actually like as a couple. Show them getting ready for bed together! Charlie cursing up a storm when she’s really excited and Vaggie is so shocked, but also kind of into it, but also kind of horrified because she just is still in that mindset of full, complete purity. And, most of all, PLEASE JUST SHOW THEM FLIRTING! Please, please, please!!! It’s not that hard, PLEASE!!! It does wonders for showing the characters’ personalities and relationships. How do they flirt, how do they react to flirting, what makes them uncomfortable, what makes them flustered, what’s considered common flirting between them, what’re some inside jokes they have? Just… SHOW THEM BEING AN ACTUAL COUPLE, PLEASE.

If I have to rely solely on fanwork for me to find the MAIN COUPLE even remotely interesting, then you’re doing a bad job writing them!

[aventurineswife]

Hi! This is my first time making a request but I literally love all of your hsr work and wanted to give it a try! Can I request Aventurine, Ratio, and/or anyone else you feel inspired to write reacting to reader stopping by to see them while they’re working? Have a great day/night!

In the Silence Between Chaos

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Romance, Fluff, Lighthearted, Playful Banter, Casual Humor, Established Relationship.

A/N: HII!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!🤭💖🫶

The steady hum of the office filled the space as Aventurine tapped his pen rhythmically against his desk, the gold nib catching the light of the green-glass lamp. Documents were scattered before him in a meticulous chaos only he could understand, numbers and risks dancing across the pages. The roulette-themed clock on the wall ticked steadily, but his focus was unshaken—until the sound of the door opening broke the monotony.

"Ah, darling," he greeted smoothly, his striking magenta and cyan eyes lighting up as you stepped in. His ever-present smile softened into something more genuine. "To what do I owe this delightful interruption?"

You held up a small paper bag with a playful smirk. "Just thought you could use a break. Your assistant practically begged me to rescue you from yourself."

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Rescue me? From work? You wound me." But the way he reached for the bag betrayed his eagerness.

Inside was a small box of pastries and a note in your handwriting: For the gambler who bets on everything but sleep.

Aventurine’s laughter bubbled forth, rich and carefree. "You know me too well," he said, setting the bag aside. "But tell me—since you're here—how about we make a wager?" His eyes glinted mischievously.

"And what are we betting on this time?" you asked, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"Whether or not this pastry tastes as sweet as you."

You rolled your eyes but laughed, knowing full well you had already lost.

The rhythmic tapping of keys filled the air in Ratio's dimly lit laboratory. Shelves lined with books, glowing screens, and complex holographic projections dominated the room. The doctor sat hunched over his desk, violet hair falling over his face as his fingers danced over the keyboard. He was lost in his work, eyes fixed on a glowing equation that twisted and turned in midair.

The creak of the door broke his concentration. "Veritas?" Your voice cut through the silence like a beam of light, making his head snap up.

"Ah, [Name]," he said, his sharp eyes softening as he removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "I wasn’t expecting visitors. Is there something urgent you need?"

You shook your head, holding up a thermos and a small container. "Not urgent, just… figured you might need a break. Thought I’d bring you some tea and snacks."

He blinked, momentarily taken aback, before letting out a low chuckle. "You’ve come to save me from myself, have you? Very well, I’ll indulge your concern." He gestured toward the nearest chair. "Sit."

Placing the thermos and snacks on the table, you watched as he poured himself a cup. His movements were precise, almost ritualistic, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself with a quiet intensity.

"I’ve been working on a solution to a rather stubborn problem," he said, breaking the silence. "But I must admit, this interruption is… welcome."

You leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "What’s the problem?"

His lips curved into a small smile. "A theoretical model on multidimensional communication. Fascinating, yet infuriatingly elusive. Much like you."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Infuriating, huh? And yet here I am, bringing you tea."

"Indeed," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "You’re quite the enigma yourself. A distraction, yes, but also a source of clarity." His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

"Ratio," you teased, trying to lighten the mood, "are you saying I’m your muse?"

"Perhaps," he replied, a rare softness in his tone. "Or perhaps just the only person who can remind me to step away from the chaos and appreciate the simpler things."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the hum of machinery around you fading into the background. In that moment, it wasn’t about equations or theories—it was about the connection you shared, grounding him in a way no academic pursuit ever could.

[flickeringflame216]

blessings roll call!!!

[skunkes]

the bad: i have been raised without much warmth from my parents in childhood, but also pressured to conform to familial authority, doubt myself always, and value familial connections above all else (<- failed at this, and feel guilt about it.)

but also in experiencing this i have been so isolated from the entire rest of the world and others, that it will be nearly impossible to create my own "family" -> find safety and comfort in anybody else once my family is Gone. despite dis i find it really difficult to break away from the familiar, disobey and disappoint, because, well, why are my wishes more important than anybody else's. why would I cause upset and distress in anybody, and exert so much effort into my doubt filled half decisions, for my meaningless little Wishes. being away would also mean less time with these people who I'll never see again once they're gone. being raised this way is definitely paying off for those who did so.

the good: yaaaay adjacent inspiration for writing talon lore

[ssruis]

Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.

[toxictrannyfreak]

Please go into more detail about the Fulcrum Barriss thing.

Oh, anon, I have been waiting for this. You're going to get way more than you wanted.

Basically, my idea for Fulcrum!Barriss came from 2 things: 1, I really don't like Ahsoka in Rebels. She kinda sucks there tbh. One of Rebel's main themes is that of redemption, of finding your way back to the right path and helping, and Ahsoka doesn't really fit. She could fit, if they'd done things different and had her and Kanan have parallel character arcs where they both help each other find the Jedi path again, but instead she's a very flat character that never does anything that interesting. Sure, she's supposedly organizing the Rebellion from the shadows, but the only time she's ever significant in her own right in Rebels is when she's beating people up. She's presented as kind of a perfect Light Side saint kind of thing (think of the Gandalf-looking outfit she has in the endcard, and the exhausting amounts of Morai and Daughter imagery we get with her, without them ever once acknowledging that she was possessed by the Son) which really gives us nothing to go with the whole redemption theme. It's boring. There are some good things--I love most of Twilight of the Apprentice, for example, but it's pretty clear that the whole Vader and Ahsoka thing shouldn't have been in Rebels, since it has almost no connection to the actual main characters and the plot.

The second thing was that I wanted to explore Barriss's character post-Order 66 in a way that is respectful to her actual character while still mostly canon-compliant (Because while I hate the Wrong Jedi Arc for what it did to Barriss and fully believe that it never should have happened, a story following Barriss with everything in the Wrong Jedi staying the same is really interesting) and, well, obviously having Barriss be a rebel makes sense (do not talk to me about Inquisitor!Barriss, I hate it). Barriss also has a ton that she feels she has to atone for with the context of the Wrong Jedi Arc, and, as a young Jedi who did Fall a little bit, she can offer a lot to Ezra as a teacher, like helping him understand why he can't use the Dark Side to stop The Empire.

tl;dr: Ahsoka's boring in Rebels, and she really shouldn't have been there anyway, but Barriss is fascinating post-TCW and, as a former Jedi who was briefly taken in by the Dark Side and betrayed the Order, is pretty damn perfect with the themes of Rebels, and had a very unique perspective that would've been really valuable for Ezra's arc.

Rant over, @antianakin has some very good post on Ahsoka if you want to check that out, on to the next rant!

Barriss works as Fulcrum, too. In The Wrong Jedi (I hate it, but like, I am using Canon here, I know it's terrible and character assassination for the sake of shock value and racism), we see how skilled she can be at subterfuge and lying and hiding in plain sight. She's very good at knowing exactly how to manipulate Ahsoka into making herself look as guilty as possible while keeping herself very innocent-looking. I could definitely see a fully grown Barriss with 15 years of experience using those skills to fight the Empire and direct a rebellion from the shadows.

Narratively, it makes a lot of sense for Barriss to work as a quiet director of rebel activity in the Outer Rim. She isn't a super-powerful Force user that can easily beat a bunch of Inquisitors (I'll talk about my problems with how weak the Inquisitors were later) and hold back Darth Vader. She needs to stay quiet, but she also needs to help, and working with those who have been the most disenfranchised and hurt by the Empire to bring it down serves as a good parallel to the Wrong Jedi Arc, where she was one of the most disenfranchised and hurt by the war (a teenage soldier whose people are dying around her, and no one in power cares) redirecting that in the wrong way, lashing out and hurting people, and now she's helping people react in a positive way and do things right.

Ahsoka, on the other hand (I'm assuming you came from the Fulcrum!Bariss and Inquisitor!Ahsoka post) is honestly a much more interesting character as an Inquisitor than she's really ever been in canon, and honestly, it’s confusingly well foreshadowed for something that never happens. In the Mortis Arc (aka the most symbolic arc of TCW that EXPLICITLY TELLS YOU THE FUTURE OF THE CHARACTERS), Ahsoka is very much associated with the Dark Side. She's kidnapped by the Son, she sees a vision (all of the other characters have visions that are pretty clearly true) of herself in the future, telling her that Anakin will corrupt her if she can't let go of him, and lo and behold, what is the 1 thing that Ahsoka is never able to do? LET GO OF ANAKIN. She is literally possessed by the embodiment of the Dark Side of the Force. 30 years later in The Mandalorian, Ahsoka is still unable to let go of Anakin even after he’s been dead for years, after she faced him and recognised him, after there’s nothing left of the Anakin she knew, she can only see Anakin in Grogu. She is haunted by Anakin, she is attached to Anakin, Anakin defines her. Think of how tragic that would be with Inquisitor Ahsoka, who was forced to the Dark Side, who was manipulated and tortured and abused (tbf TotJ kinda makes it seem that Anakin was already borderline abusive to Ahsoka). Imagine the amount of pain and anger and unresolved trauma in her, all inextricably tied to Anakin, to Vader, to her Master. She loves him in the same horrifying, twisted way that he loves her and that brings them both so much pain, plunging them deeper and deeper into that downward spiral.

And then there’s the relationship the two of them would have with each other--Barriss who fell first, but was given the support she needed to pull herself out (obviously Luminara and the Jedi helped her, come on, there’s no way that if she lived they wouldn’t have helped her and pushed for her to be given back to the Jedi) who was able to find the Light again and use her experiences to help other people and make amends, but especially the fact that Barriss Fell of her own accord. There were other factors, but no one forced Barriss to Fall. The Inquisitors were tortured and mutilated and abused until they became everything they hated, and then they were forced to serve the very people who murdered their people. None of that is voluntary, even if they’ve been manipulated into thinking that it was deserved, or for the best, or made them stronger. A Fallen Ahsoka confronting a redeemed Barriss, a horrible mirror image of what happened to them in the Wrong Jedi Arc so long ago. That’s powerful and painful and it works, it fits with the themes of Rebels really well, and it doesn’t mess with the power scaling the way Vader does.

Now allow me to elaborate on this au. So, Order 66 happens, and Barriss is in Republic prison, one that’s probably guarded and maintained by clones (she wouldn’t be an immediate target, ‘cause she’s not a Jedi, and she’s probably wanted for the Inquisitorius anyway). At this point, Ahsoka has separated from Rex and only knows of one Jedi in the entire galaxy that’s probably still alive--Barriss, who she knows won’t be an immediate target, Barriss, who, despite everything, is still her friend. Barriss who will die soon. Ahsoka goes back to Coruscant and breaks Barriss out of prison.

Except the Empire knew that someone would come for her, and after Jesse never reported back, they knew Ahsoka was out there. Barriss manages to escape, but Ahsoka doesn’t. (This is, like, the angstiest possible version of this au, I could also do a version where Barriss just escapes, but I like pain, so.) Barriss thinks they’d kill her—the Inquisitorius program won’t become official for months yet, not until the last of her people have been tortured into everything she once thought the Jedi had become—so she makes sure Ahsoka’s sacrifice isn’t in vain, and she runs. She hides out in the Outer Rim, and she makes Ahsoka proud.

She sees the pain and suffering and misery caused by the war and the Empire, and she is a Jedi. She cannot help what she is. She builds a rebellion, piece by piece and step by step, hidden in the shadows, agonizingly crawling towards something better. She wakes up every day, and she fights, building networks of people and information and hope. She fights to restore the Republic that failed her, and the Order she failed, and she hopes that one day it will be enough. Enough to finally be redeemed, enough to go to trial once more and face punishment for her crimes. (Death. It was always going to be death, but the Jedi managed to postpone her trial until after the war, but the war never ended. The war was to destroy the Republic, and she refuses to stop fighting for civilization. She hears about Ahsoka, eventually, and she sees it as just one more sin she must carry.)

And then she meets Ezra. He is young, and scared, and angry, but he is bright in the Force and he wants to become a Jedi more than anything. She has stayed in the shadows for so long, but this young, brilliant boy and his Master, a fellow Padawan that she remembers from so long ago, they need her, and she goes. She brings everything she has, all to save these last Jedi and being the galaxy some hope. They burn a Star Destroyer, and broadcast a message of hope. It’s finally coming together.

She teaches Ezra what she can, and she and Kanan cling to each other. They hadn’t thought there was anyone else left, all 10,000 lights snuffed out by Order 66 or the Inquisitorius save for them. They meditate and train and try to find their way back to the Jedi path, for the child they’re trying so hard to save.

Eventually, the Empire comes for them. Inquisitor Ahsoka Tano, Grand Inquisitor of the Imperial Order of the Inquisitorius (I had a lot of fun figuring out how many times I could fit Inquisitor in there), second only to Darth Vader, finds them on Malachor. She brings a bunch of other Inquisitors with her (and they’re actually, like threatening bad guys this time, come on) and they have a big fight (idk if I want to keep Maul here, bc well I do like him in Rebels, he's just another example of Filoni forcing in legacy characters where they don't fit) in, like, the middle of the episode Barriss and Ahsoka have a really really angsty 1v1 duel (everyone else is trying to fight normally while ignoring the bitter exes biting each other's heads off in the background). Darth Vader does not show up.

I haven't thought much past Season 2, to be honest, but I do have some vague ideas:

Kallus (who actually has a redemption arc, not 1 episode where they retcon everything about him) definitely has a very strained relationship with the Inquisitors bc he’s several gallons deep in the Empire-propaganda koolaid and he doesn’t trust force sensitives, he thinks that they take jobs away from the ISB, who could do the much better, and, while he’ll never admit it, he does have a moral compass and feels like sending highly trained super-evil Force wizards that can bring down entire buildings with their minds is a bit much for a teenage boy

For seasons 3 and 4 I’d want to do something with the Zare Leonis/Project Harvester plot they set up in season 1 and then like. Never mentioned again outside of a niche book series. Smth about what the Empire actually does to force-sensitive kids

No Thrawn. Fucking hate Thrawn in Rebels bc he is yet another example of Felony jamming in cameo characters where they don’t belong. Why was Thrawn, fucking Grand Admiral of the Empire, the guy that (in Legends bc he wasn’t in canon pre-Rebels) nearly manages to bring back the Empire and destroy the New Republic basically by himself, in the show about a small group of misfit rebels desperately trying to build the early Rebellion? Thrawn managed to nearly bring down the Rebellion at its peak, when it had already destroyed the damn Empire! (For that matter, why is Tarkin in Rebels? Why is Vader in Rebels? Why is Emperor goddamn Palpatine. in. Rebels??? There is a thing called power scaling, felony, and it is very important!)

Instead of Thrawn being the main villain of seasons 3-4 of Rebels, I’d have Inquisitor Ahsoka be the main villain of season 3 and her redemption arc would be parallel with Kallus’s (bc he actually has one here) and they’d both get out of the Empire in the Season 3 finale. The villain of Season 4 would be Pryce, and the focus would be on her and the Empire’s greed destroying Lothal, which I think would go really well with the Zare storyline of Project Harvester that I mentioned above. The show would end about the same as it does in canon, though idk exactly how Ezra would get into the Unknown Regions without Thrawn.

So this has turned from Fulcrum Barriss into a full on rewrite of everything I didn’t like about Rebels, huh? Sorry anon, I warned you.

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

hm

thinking of my blorbos but not in a "i love you you love me all is well" way but a "i love you hope you kill me" way lol

[phagodyke]

the way this scene w caiman reassuring nikaido in v21 parallels that one w nikaido reassuring caiman back in v10 and its basically the first time theyre properly reunited in the wholeass 10 volumes since then.... brb sniffling + sobbing

[soft-puppy-boyfriend]

At the anger stage of realising I have childhood trauma

[vaguehotels]

hey just a reminder that sometimes you have to accept that you’re going to have to have feelings without a filter, and you’re going to have to tell people that you care about them, and you’re going to have to start saying i love you. if you want affection and love and adoration you cannot close yourself off forever and ever. keep up your walls as you must to protect yourself but not forever. and if you feel like you can’t ever let them down then i’m sorry. i hope you find someone that makes you feel safe enough to start saying and feeling these things.

[ilovecoffeeandchemistry]

ooooh i woke up in a bad mood and it's so hard not to be a bitch about it