#progression through unlearning

[guerrilla-operator]

Snapcase // Harrison Bergeron

You tried to steal it You had me shut down But I'm alive since I have found

[proofread]

someone can have been afab and not born with a uterus btw

[vianeptvne]

ASTRO PLACEMENTS/ASPECTS NOTES [01]

🕯️ MERCURY SQUARE NEPTUNE ੈ✩‧₊˚

── this aspect can indicate difficulties surrounding one's ability to effectively connect with those around them. the native may communicate in a way that is "elusive" to others, resulting in feeling misunderstood or isolated. this can also indicate a very literal barrier in terms of language or one's speaking abilities, or struggling in neurotypical learning environments. this doesn't mean that the native is unintelligent, or intentionally trying to come across as deceptive to others. rather, their understanding of the world and reality as a whole is vastly different than the average person. they tend to be very imaginative and artistic individuals, and as a result they usually have a "spiritual" or poetic way of interpreting and explaining things.

── it would benefit these natives to take on habits or practices that grant them the ability to stay grounded, all the while holding space for their need to escape to the imaginative worlds they create for themselves. they may need to work towards developing the ability to remain practical in situations that call for objectivity, rather than being too passive. despite their hardships, when these natives maintain balance between self-discipline and their creativity, they're able utilize both of these skills to to navigate life and excel in their endeavors. in terms of spirituality, they tend to manifest things very easily, and typically encounter messages in the astral realm that provide clarity to the things that they experience in their reality.

🕯️ MOON SQUARE SATURN ੈ✩‧₊˚

── this is one of the most difficult aspects in astrology, in my personal opinion. these natives tend to struggle with a significant amount of emotional turmoil as a result of challenges in their childhood, and/or strife between themselves and their mothers (or any relevant maternal figures). due to a lack of control in their youth, they can come across as authoritative or domineering to others. they tend to exhibit this behavior so as to not feel like they're being subjected to the same "coldness" they encountered growing up. this can manifest in the opposite way, where the native could struggle with self-compassion, and adopt extremely codependent, self-destructive habits as a means to find it through other people.

── these natives could benefit from having mentors, or older, wise figures they can look to for guidance and clarity in times of strife. they tend to encounter situations in adulthood that call for them to unlearn the unhealthy mindsets they developed as children. it's not an easy process, but it's crucial that these natives grow and evolve to a point where they can feel and express their emotions without feelings of fear, shame, or guilt. as doing so will lead to far more fulfilling relationships, both with others and with themselves.

🕯️ JUPITER TRINE URANUS ੈ✩‧₊˚

── those with this aspect tend to have a very enthusiastic, open-minded approach to life. these natives usually have an innate interest in all things unorthodox, and seek to research and learn about more unconventional matters. their lifestyle could also revolve heavily around technology in some way shape or form. the quote, "being right too soon is socially unacceptable," by Robert Heinlein could be applicable to their lives, as their ideals tend to be very progressive in nature as a result of their extremely strong foresight. they can carry themselves in a way that others may deem contentious, but with the harmony of the trine, this could be a trait that is actually deemed admirable by others, and they may even be viewed as pioneers of their generation as a result.

── these natives tend to attract the attention of others by default, even if it's not necessarily their intent. they have a way of expressing their individuality that innately draws people in. as a result of their independent nature, coupled with their ability to be optimistic in the face of whatever it is that life throws at them, they could find themselves in positions of leadership. their creativity lends itself in their favor in times of crisis, as they are more likely to view hardships as opportunities, rather than challenges.

🕯️ MERCURY SEXTILE ASCENDANT ੈ✩‧₊˚

── these natives are typically viewed by others as clever, quick-witted individuals. even if they're more on the reserved side, their intelligence is usually something that doesn't go unnoticed by others. they tend to be excellent communicators, and may have a habit of being very expressive, specifically with their hands and arms. their ability to articulate their thoughts and ideas to others is probably their most favorable characteristic, alongside their ability to adapt when collaborating with other people. they could also have a knack for reading others through their body language as well.

── understanding new or unfamiliar information usually comes easy to them due to their open-minded, optimistic outlook on life. they tend to have a habit of jumping from idea to idea and have the capacity to see things from every perspective. while this could manifest as a sense of restlessness or anxiousness (depending on the full context of the chart), the sextile here provides an ease to this mercurial energy. while these natives may have to work towards developing the ability to focus on the bigger picture rather than the minutia, their need to tend to the latter still works in their favor more often than not, and is typically lends itself as more of a skill rather than a detriment.

🕯️ MARS TRINE PLUTO ੈ✩‧₊˚

── this aspect provides the native with an extremely strong-willed approach to their goals. they tend to have a very prominent sense of ambition and determination, but these tend to be underlying characteristics that the native holds close to themselves. despite their reserved nature, this energy is usually something that others are able to pick up on very easily. these natives usually find that others tend to be very receptive in cases where they assert themselves, and it could even be something that others find attractive as well. there's a prominent sex appeal that these natives tend to have that they're able to utilize in order to achieve their goals, and their sexuality generally may be of great importance to them. they tend to have a lot of stamina when it comes to intimacy, and they usually seek a partner that can match that energy.

── power struggles can be prevalent with this aspect, but these struggles typically don't manifest as negatively as they would with the square or opposition. mars/pluto natives tend to push back against authoritative behavior from others and don't react kindly when put in situations where others seek to control them. with the trine, there's usually more of a constructive approach to the expression of the energy between these planets. a healthy manifestation of this aspect would appear as dedicating this intense, persistent energy towards self-transformation. these natives need to ensure that they're using their power as a means to heal, rather than exerting it upon others as a means for control.

🕯️ JUPITER CONJUNCT SATURN ੈ✩‧₊˚

── natives with this aspect tend to have a pretty good grasp on how to maintain harmony between their need for expansion and their need for structure. if the full context of the natal chart points to this aspect manifesting positively, this can indicate that the native will reap the benefits of their hard work and dedication to attaining the life that they aspire to have, typically later in life or post their first saturn return. they tend to have very grand dreams and desires, and saturn's influence here forges a stable, structured pathway to achieve them. on the contrary, if jupiter or saturn are afflicted, this can indicate struggling with feelings of restlessness or apprehensiveness. they can struggle at times with overestimating their capacity to get things done, or struggle with being too immovable and stuck in their ways.

── these natives typically have to work towards maintaining equilibrium between their optimistic, open-minded nature, alongside their rational, more objective side. generally, these natives tend to excel as mentors and teachers, due to their innate fascination of knowledge and disciplined approach to learning. philosophy specifically could be of great interest to them, as well as religion and spirituality. they tend to be very dedicated to living life by the ideals that they believe in. this can also indicate inheritance through death as well.

🕯️ MARS SQUARE NEPTUNE ੈ✩‧₊˚

── with this aspect, there tends to be a lack of discernment in terms of taking action. they can stumble their way through trying to reach their goals, if they even get to taking the first steps at all. they may struggle at times with having an illusionary approach to life, and grow resentful or self-victimizing when they inevitability come face to face with reality. they can have difficulties surrounding their self-image, and as a result struggle with asserting themselves, addictive tendencies, or feelings of internalized shame. in conflict, others may view them as passive aggressive or vindictive. those around them can suspect them as having covert motives or being dishonest, even if that isn't indicative of their true behavior. this can also manifest in the opposite way, where they struggle to recognize the true intentions of others.

── these natives benefit greatly by implementing habits into their daily routines that keep them grounded. exercising, yoga (tantric specifically), or any practice where they're able to move their bodies and enter a meditative state could be beneficial to their mental and physical well being. journaling can be of value to them as well, as it grants them the ability to put words to their feelings and keep track of their emotions. having a creative outlet can help as well, as this is an aspect that grants the native with an innate artistic streak that they're able to express themselves through. they would also benefit from having reliable people around them who motivate them feel self-assured, to be accountable, and to stay on course to accomplish their goals.

🕯️ VENUS CONJUNCT MARS IN THE 7H ੈ✩‧₊˚

── natives with this aspect tend to be very charismatic and determined in relationships (both platonic and romantic). they're typically very dedicated, protective lovers, and can definitely have something of a "jealous streak", but this typically doesn't manifest in a detrimental way like the venus/mars square or opposition. this can indicate having an energy that others find attractive and benevolent, which can benefit the native not only in terms of romance, but also in terms of business partnerships. this aspect can lean itself to aiding the native in terms of work and career opportunities, as this indicates getting on well with their peers and social circle. their sexuality tends to be a significant aspect of their lives, and they may struggle at times to remain in long-term relationships where sex is mundane or boring, as they require excitability and stimulation when it comes to intimacy.

── if venus or mars are conflicted in the natal chart, and depending on the planetary ruler of the 7H, there could be difficulties with codependent and/or domineering behavior. in this case, the native must work towards finding harmony between their venusian and martian energy. typically, the relationship that the native had with the opposite sex parent growing up plays a significant role in how they show up in relationships as an adult, and it may be useful to look towards that dynamic to unpack what parts of themselves need to be healed in order to have healthy, functional relationships in adulthood.

🕯️ SUN SQUARE MOON ੈ✩‧₊˚

── with this aspect, there is innate tension between the head and the heart. these natives struggle to find unity between what it is that they need to feel accomplished and what it is that they need in order to feel safe. there may have been tension between the parents, or tension between themselves and either (or both) of their parents that had a major impact on their identity and confidence. they may be perceived at times as emotionally unstable by others, and struggle at times to rein in their feelings and act from a place of objectivity. these difficulties can also have a negative impact on the native's personal relationships, and ultimately influence self-sabotaging behavior.

── these natives typically need to work towards unpacking their inner turmoil and where this tension stems from, so that they can approach conflict in their everyday life from a place that is rational rather than reactive. through growth and acceptance, they can attain harmony between their need for independence and their need to feel emotionally secure. regardless of their hardships, these natives have the determination and strength that grants them the ability to power through whatever obstacle life throws their way.

🕯️ SATURN TRINE ASCENDANT ੈ✩‧₊˚

── this aspect can indicate being perceived as someone who is very knowledgable, responsible, and perhaps too rigid at times. these natives tend to have an air of authority to them, and because of this people can be inclined to turn to them for leadership or assistance in times of crisis. while this isn't inherently as negative as the square or opposition, these natives may grow to feel overburdened with taking accountability for others if they don't implement boundaries in their relationships. they typically have a very measured approach to life, and are usually respected for their ability to focus and remain on track in high-stake situations.

── saturn on the ascendant can provide something akin to a "mask" when it comes to the native's emotions, due to this they can come off as aloof or distant to those around them. they may find that they get on easier with authority figures, mentors, or older people rather than their peers as a result of their more mature or "serious" demeanor. in terms of physicality, their bones/tendons/ligaments, teeth, skin, etc. can be prominent in terms of both vitality and appearance. personally, i've noticed that saturn/ascendant natives tend to have issues with their back, and/or start greying younger than most.

🕯️ MERCURY SEXTILE MARS ੈ✩‧₊˚

── these natives tend to have very agile, fast-paced minds. they can be somewhat blunt when communicating with others, but this tendency is usually perceived more so as honesty rather than aggression. they also have a charm to them that allows them to get away with more than someone with the opposition/square between these planets could. they typically view knowledge as an extremely valuable tool, which is why they usually take joy in debates and intellectual spars with others. these natives may also have a flirtatious nature about them, or simply appear that way to others whether they intend to or not.

── while there can be a difficulty for them to focus at times, their restless nature can work in their favor more often than not, as they are typically very inspired and ambitious in their pursuit of learning and processing new information. this, paired with their risk-taking nature, can lead them to positions of power and leadership. they may have to work towards not being too self aggrandizing, and recognize the value in what they can learn from those around them and how much they can benefit from working alongside others.

🕯️ SUN SQUARE JUPITER ੈ✩‧₊˚

── with this aspect, misjudgment can be a prominent, recurring theme in the natives life. with sun/jupiter placements, there's typically an innate ease when it comes to manifesting one's desires, with the square, difficulties can arise with overconsumption, and more specifically, with overestimating one's abilities. as i've said before, jupiter is a planet that will match your energy, which is why it's important to have moderation and self-control when it's aspecting a personal planet. with the sun square jupiter, pride and gluttony can have disastrous effects to the native's life and relationships with others.

── these natives may struggle with seeking affirmation and approval from others when it comes to their talents and accomplishments. it's important for these natives to recognize that their worth is not derivative of materialism or external praise, rather, it's something that is innate, that you have to find within yourself. this can also manifest as a stubborn, over-dedication to one's ideals or spiritual beliefs that can cause friction in their day to day lives. ultimately, it's important for these natives to recognize the importance in approaching life from a place tact and objectivity. this doesn't mean that they must dilute their optimistic, jovial nature. rather, they need to find balance, and know when to take off the rose-colored lenses and take a more rational approach.

🕯️ URANUS SEXITLE PLUTO ੈ✩‧₊˚

[this is a generational aspect, meaning the people born under this transit will collectively share this energy. the "relevance" it has in your chart will be reflected by how tight the orb is, as well as where uranus and pluto fall in your houses, and what personal planets they're aspecting.]

── these natives tend to be very radical and unconventional in their approach to life. they can encounter a lot of transformative experiences in their lives that push them towards growth and self-actualization. in turn, they wish to see the collective as a whole evolve for the better, and due to their strong foresight, they're able to visualize the steps that must be taken in order to bring change to our reality. what others may view as being disruption or chaos, these natives view as opportunities for development.

── if this is a prominent aspect in one's natal chart, it can indicate that they will be something of a "pioneer" for their generation. the role they play will be related to dismantling and rebuilding traditional structures in order to make way for more relevant, updated means of living as a society. activism and humanitarian work can be of great importance to them, and they may excel in these fields due to their open-minded understanding of both themselves, and of others.

🕯️ MARS OPPOSITE SATURN ੈ✩‧₊˚

── with this aspect, there tends to be an push and pull between one's desire to act and their need for structure. these natives may encounter their fair share of hardships on their path to success. a major lesson for these natives may be learning to approach these obstacles with a level head, rather than from a place from resentment and anger. if this is a prominent aspect in the natal chart, it's possible that these natives have a reputation for their temperament, due to their instinct to bottle up their feelings and hold on to residual discontent, which can result in outbursts that can have a negative impact on their character, relationships, and health.

── it's crucial that they have outlets that allow them to release any pent up energy in a healthy, constructive way. in doing so, this also helps them to develop a sense of self-control and confidence. this is also an aspect that can struggle with others impeding upon their independence. it's important that these natives heal any wounds regarding authority, as the un-evolved energy of this aspect can lead to domineering behavior and control issues. when worked through, the energy of this aspect can lend itself to aid the native in effectively working towards and accomplishing their goals.

🕯️ MOON CONJUNCT SOUTH NODE ੈ✩‧₊˚

── with this aspect, the domestic life and matters related to the family/maternal figures reveal what the native needs to let go of in order to evolve spiritually. there may be habits or beliefs passed down from one's family that restrict the native from connecting to their higher self. despite this, they tend to have a very strong intuition and are able to pick up on the emotions of others very easily, although, they may struggle at times with feelings of insecurity and not feeling stable. their childhood, or home life in general, could be where these feelings of anxiety stem from specifically.

── if unchecked, this aspect can fester into feelings of codependency, or a "savior-complex", especially in romantic connections. it's crucial for these natives to sit with themselves and unpack their relationship to giving and receiving nourishment, as this will help in healing the turbulent, emotional wounds they house within themselves. they must work to recognize that their sensitivity is not a flaw or something to be ashamed of, rather, it's a characteristic that has the capacity to aid in their growth, rather than hinder them.

🕯️ VENUS SQUARE SATURN ੈ✩‧₊˚

── those with this aspect can encounter a fair amount of hardships regarding relationships and self-worth. they may have struggled with insecurities regarding their physical appearance in youth that follow them into adulthood, which can impact how they navigate romantic connections with others. they may attract partners that are domineering or controlling, or they may exhibit this behavior towards their partner themselves. it's also possible that these relationships are long-distance, or there is an age-gap present. with age and maturity, these natives may find more ease not only in romance, but in their relationship to themselves as well.

── working with this aspect requires healing the parts of yourself that are deeper than the superficialities assigned to venus; you will not love or respect yourself more by adhering to unattainable beauty standards or over-consuming trending products and fashion. with venus square saturn, there is innate restriction placed upon one's values, specifically, the worth that the native assigns to themselves, resulting in depression or a pessimistic approach to life. to heal this aspect means to develop a sense of love and respect for oneself that is innate, rather than looking to material means or other people to provide it for them.

🕯️ MARS SQUARE NORTH NODE ੈ✩‧₊˚

── with this aspect, one's impulse and temperament can cause difficulties in their ability to grow towards the person that they need to become. these natives can be stubborn or immovable in how they approach their goals, and more specifically, how they engage with their personal growth and evolution. for these natives, it's important for them to practice patience, and to seek fulfillment through working with others, rather than prioritizing their independence.

── it's usually with age that we're able to grow and evolve to a point where we can embrace the qualities that our north node pushes us towards. with mars square north node, the lesson to be learned here is understanding when a risk is worth being taken, versus knowing when to recede and step down. these natives must recognize the importance in expressing their passion from a place of determination, rather than resentment or rage.

🕯️ MIDHEAVEN SEXTILE PLUTO ੈ✩‧₊˚

── this aspect can indicate having an tenacious, relentless approach to one's career. these natives can be perceived as polarizing by the public, or have a reputation that is somewhat controversial in nature. they may go through many changes in their professions, work in fields that are taboo in nature, or work with people who are deemed outcasts by society (e.g. social work, counseling, the occult, sex work, creative arts, psychology, research, etc.) these natives can find themselves in positions of power quite easily, as they tend to have a magnetic energy about them that they can use to their advantage.

── their dedication to the careers can be obsessive in nature, and as a result they may need to work to implement balance between their work and home life. if pluto falls in the 10H, it's possible that these natives may have had a relationship to either of their parents (or any relevant authority figures in their youth) that was deeply transformative in nature, and shaped the way that they approach their professional lives and are received by the public and their peers. they have an innate understanding of the human psyche, and are able to utilize this knowledge to achieve goals in their career.

🕯️ URANUS IN THE 3H ੈ✩‧₊˚

── this placement can be indicative of experiencing a large amount of change in one's immediate environment. these natives may have moved around frequently growing up, changed schools a lot, or encountered frequent upheaval in their home lives, specifically related to any potential siblings. this can also manifest as a sense of "restlessness" regarding the native's immediate environment, they may struggle with having a mundane routine, and change their habits or travel frequently as a result.

── this can also indicate that the native's sense of individuality is very important to them. specifically, they may have very unorthodox, innovative ways of thinking and communicating their ideas, and can struggle when they feel as though those ideas are not understood or being taken seriously. this is an issue that could've been more prevalent in their early education, specifically in regards to their relationship with teachers or authority figures. these natives benefit most when they're around fellow, like-minded people, and generally seek to implement new ideas and thought processes to further advance those around them and the collective as a whole.

dividers by dollywons

[bunnyrights]

PAC reading - it won't be easy, but it'll be so worth it

hi lovelies <3 happy saturn day & summer/winter solstice! this felt like the right kind of reading for today's energy; a celebration of the midpoint of the season on a day ruled by saturn, like a metaphor for being half way through an arduous journey. what is requiring far more effort than you'd like that will surely be rewarded? and how can you keep faith through it? let's find out!

take a deep breath and ask yourself what group holds guidance for you. it's more than alright to be drawn to more than one as this is a general reading. if you'd like a more personalized one, take advantage of the $3 flash sale i have going on (⁠◠⁠ᴥ⁠◕⁠ʋ⁠)

group one

three of pentacles + king of wands + the moon + the magician

you're pursuing a creative project that doesn't seem to be progressing as quickly as you'd like, and it's revealing the insecurities you have about your capabilities. firstly, it's okay to doubt yourself, dwelling in it is what's harmful. you're being encouraged to work with other people, and don't cower from leading and being more direct; you genuinely are knowledgeable and skilled enough to do so. it makes sense to look to the lack of physical results as proof of your lack of experience, but there is so much value in things taking time. as trite as it sounds, great work isn't achieved without hard work, especially when it's done to last.

step into a more authoritative role; you are capable and your work is not in vain, so stop basing your progress on what you see or hear on social media. for someone here, stop comparing your efforts to trust fund kids. it's not that you're not manifesting hard enough or believing hard enough, those people literally have everything they need already and you don't.

group two

ten of cups + knight of pentacles + the emperor + eight of cups

you have been tasked with being the one to overcome the generational trauma that's a result of an overbearingly patriarchal lineage, and it feels like it's in vain because everyone and everything is challenging your efforts. what you're doing is bigger than you; you're unlearning beliefs that have kept the women in your family oppressed. this is not just for your own good, but for the relatives that will come after you. someone, and that's you, has to carve out the path for it to feel like a possibility.

it feels like thankless work, especially when you get shut down or punished for it, but it's so necessary. you are being supported by past loved ones who have the insight to see how these oppressive familial beliefs continue to impact how you and others carry yourself in the world. you are truly a trailblazer and it's not about being validated in this, because frankly you won't be, it's about learning that you deserve respect simply for existing too.

group three

judgment + seven of swords + justice + queen of pentacles

you are choosing to stand up for what is right and just, and it baffles you how much pushback you're getting for it. you are choosing to stick to moral integrity against rising fascism and bigotry, and it can feel threatening to your life at times. you are not in it for social reward, so it doesn't need to be said that you shouldn't expect it, but what you're doing is not in vain. you are standing up for the disenfranchised when it truly matters, and that's incredibly commendable.

now is not the time to back down, but do practice more self-care. not in the commercialized way, but as the radical act of defiance like audre lorde referred to it as. you cannot help anyone when you're burnt out and overwhelmed from how difficult things are, so please prioritize taking care of your basic needs – food, sleep, etc – to be able to sustain your efforts. safely find community with your local organizers to ensure you can speak to people who can reassure you that this fight is tedious but necessary.

[rivereverie]

Astarion and Learned Cruelty

Spoilers for all of Astarion’s story through all acts of BG3. As always, this is all just my interpretation of the character. Feel free to disagree. 

I love the writing choice to make Astarion genuinely immoral at first. They could have easily pulled the overdone trope of "I only pretend to be evil because I'm traumatized. I'm really just a sad little guy who wouldn’t hurt anyone". Now I do believe his behavior is a direct result of his trauma, but I'll get to that in a minute. The point is that he does genuinely relish in violence, although his actions will be swayed by whichever moral direction the player decides to go. But he does enjoy combat, spilling blood, and even some more cruel and unusual things. However, what makes this so compelling and narratively rich is that this is a learned mindset.

I think that a lot of people don't acknowledge that going into act 1, Astarion has just come out of a situation where he was quite literally forced to participate in horrific crimes, with severe consequences if he refused. That absolutely does not excuse the fact that he's okay with if not outright enthusiastic about murder, but we do see that he was not always this way (e.g., he tried at least once to let a target go because he couldn't bring himself to take them to Cazador). I just think it's worth acknowledging that that mindset was the product of centuries of torment and active overt and covert conditioning. He became who Cazador wanted him to be; who he had to be in order to survive. Astarion and Karlach are two sides of a coin in this regard, in that they represent opposite responses to trauma and loss of autonomy. Karlach was forced into martial servitude, which in my opinion explains why she's still kind of bloodthirsty even though she's such a good and kind person bent on protecting others. She's shaped by the role she was forced into, and it's the same with Astarion. Again, not to say he isn't morally dubious, but there's a big difference between someone evil and someone who was never allowed to be "good" suddenly being thrust back into freedom and forced to figure things out.

To a degree, I do also think that his over-the-top declarations of his love for violence are another piece of his mask. Just like with his feigned hedonism and sexual forwardness, he's trying to hold power over people by controlling their perception of him (as well as his own self-perception). He's holding a big sign that says "I'm selfish and evil, and you shouldn't like me unless you are too", when really he's not anywhere near as selfish and evil as he pretends to be. He does this in part to keep people at arm's length, but also to convince himself; to craft his own reality wherein he is the person he needs to be to get through this situation. His worldview has been warped to see domination and control as synonymous with strength, and so he's being strong in the way he knows how. As the story progresses with a good player on his side, he's beginning to learn how to be something better. And that's why it takes time: because he's unlearning 200 years of conditioning and survival instincts.

It's worth talking about that it's not unheard of for abusers to force victims to participate in the abuse of others. I think that representing that experience in this game is important and valuable. We should all walk the line between holding these kinds of survivors accountable for what is appropriate, and to offer them oceans of understanding and empathy for them over what they were forced into. Even if Astarion weren't magically forced to do Cazador's bidding, I hope that we all could still understand the power that abusers hold over their victims, empathize with him, and see that those actions were an extension of Cazador, not himself.

Official D&D definitions of "evil" aside, I don't think he's ever truly evil unless he goes down the evil route with the player and/or ascends (Ascended Astarion is a whole other can of worms I’m not going to get into in this post). By the end of the spawn storyline, Astarion does have a lot more concern and care for others, and most importantly, he takes responsibility. To me, that shows profound strength and goodness. He's never a saint, but in my opinion he's never really evil, either. He's still learning how to live in a world where he doesn't need to be cruel in order to survive. 

Concerning the early access backstory about him being a "corrupt magistrate", it's up to the individual how to headcanon that information. Personally, I think he was probably a little self-interested, but not evil by any means. I think he was probably just a pretty normal person before Cazador, not predisposed to cruelty.

In summary, I think it’s important to talk about what makes people “bad”, especially in the context of the cycle of abuse and victimization. In Astarion’s case, much of his taste for cruelty came from implicit conditioning over his years of being forced to hurt others. There are a number of lines from him during the dungeon/crypt sequence where he keeps insisting, defensively and desperately, that he didn’t have a choice in bringing victims back to Cazador. That it was all on his orders and he couldn’t say no. This might come across to some as him trying to shirk blame, but the thing is… he’s right. He didn't have a choice, other than death, but I think Cazador would deny him even that. He wanted to make his spawn into obedient tools, but also to break them. To make them an extension of his own monstrous cruelty. But in the end, Astarion takes responsibility as best he can, and begins to forgive himself for being a part of Cazador’s evil. This is part of what makes the line “I am so much more than what you made me�� so powerful.

[xjulixred45x]

Same Anon for Child Star Yuu

And OMG I completely forgot about the child actress who played Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz! (Then again my memory is pretty shitty) I heard and read about how she was bullied on set and I was deeply upset about that! (I rage whenever I learn about any child and animal abuse)

But yes! Regardless, Child Star!Yuu had to deal with a LOT at her age because of her generation and the movie industry

Fortunately, Star Child! Yuu never reached that level of harassment, but you can definitely see that she went through several unpleasant situations that shaped several of her habits in TWST.

Things like eating really little, but REALLY LITTLE compared to what a girl under 10 should eat, precisely because "no one likes a chubby girl" and other sexist sayings from the time.

That too! This Yuu probably has a lot of internalized sexist ideas due to the time she grew up in. She's surprised by things like women in positions of power, the vast amount of rights they have in this world—everyday things in Twisted Wonderland! It's especially difficult for her to break certain habits precisely because she was used to the stigma, but nothing that can't be unlearned with love.

I feel that with Vil's progressive and firm attitude toward gender stereotypes and roles, there's no way the sexist teachings of Yuu's world will prevail for long (Vil is, like, the antithesis of toxic masculinity), and Vil himself would make sure to correct Yuu's bad eating habits (no child on his watch will starve, as long as it's not junk food, YOU EAT).

Actor stuff.

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(ESPAÑOL)

Afortunadamente Star Child! Yuu nunca llego a ese nivel de acoso, pero definitivamente puede ver que haya pasado por varias situaciones desagradables que marcaron varios hábitos que ella tiene en TWST.

Cosas como comer realmente poco, pero REALMENTE POCO para lo que debería una niña de menos de 10 años, justamente porque “a nadie le gusta una niña regordeta” y otros dichos machistas que tenían en la época.

¡eso también! Esta Yuu probablemente tiene muchas ideas machistas internalizadas debido a la época en a que creció, le sorprende cosas como mujeres en posiciones de poder, la gran cantidad de derechos que tienen en este mundo ¡cosas cotidianas en Twisted Wonderland! Es especialmente difícil para ella romper ciertos hábitos justamente porque estaba acostumbrada al estigma, pero nada que no se pueda desaprender con amor.

Siento que con la actitud progresista y firme que tiene Vil hacia los estereotipos y roles de género, no hay forma en la que las enseñanzas machistas del mundo de Yuu prevalezcan por mucho tiempo (Vil es como, la antítesis de masculinidad toxica), y Vil en persona se aseguraría de corregir los malos hábitos alimenticios de Yuu (ningún niño en su guardia se morirá de hambre, mientras no sea comida chatarra, USTED COME).

Cosas de actores.

[scoutofmymind]

Saw that someone said Luigi’s Reddit had a post where he eluded to a pretty heavy drinking habit in college, which then makes me think about drunk ex!luigi. I’m sorry, but you write angst too well

Unlearn Me — { Luigi x Reader}

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, slight pining, mentions of canon back pain, ex’s reminiscing, heartbreak all over again.

Wc: 4,336 (holy shit)

Notes; Two semesters of carefully crafted distance crumbles at 3AM in the computer lab when your final project implodes hours before the deadline, leaving you with no choice but to seek help from the one person you've been avoiding since the breakup.

Before we continue, I cannot ignore that wildfires continue to ravage Los Angeles, countless families have lost their homes and livelihoods. I urge you to consider supporting those affected through any of these donation links, additionally, Roadogs on Instagram is looking for fosters for mass evacuations of shelter dogs in California.

Foster or donate if you can. xo.

Now, let’s go.

"Mother fucker," you curse, attacking your keyboard with increasingly desperate keystrokes.

Each combination might be the one to salvage this disaster, but deep down you know it's hopeless — your software has corrupted itself into oblivion, taking six months of work with it.

"You can ask for an extension," Emma suggests, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion that matches your own. Your roommate had burst into the media center still wearing her pink silk pajamas, immediately launching into a nervous tirade about after-hours permissions and potential expulsion risks.

Her constant hovering and worrying grates on your last nerve, and you tell her to leave.

Predictably, she refuses.

"Listen, I'm not just gonna leave you here on your own." She leans across your workspace, her body pressing against your laptop screen until it tilts halfway closed. You freeze, fingers suspended above the keys, terrified of losing what little progress you've made in this digital archaeology expedition. "There's - like - a murderer on campus."

"One girl said she was followed home," you gently remind. Under normal circumstances, Emma's mother-hen routine would be endearing — charming, even. But right now, with your project in shambles and deadline looming, her protective hovering feels suffocating. "Not murdered, Em."

"May as well have been." Emma fixes you with that look — the one that screams why am I the only rational person here? While her nails tap nervously against your desk. "Probably hasn't left her room since. And you know what? Smart girl.”

You scrub your hands over your face, your eyes fixed on the projector's word vomit — an endless stream of error messages and unintelligible code painting the drywall from a tired projector like some twisted modern art piece.

Not exactly what you were going for.

Emma stands mesmerized, "How did you even do this?" She watches the cryptic display crawl across the wall, her eyes tracking each line as if she could decode it. "This reminds me of-" she catches herself, the name hanging unspoken between you. She's learned that lesson the hard way. "This is wild.”

You can't help but notice.

Notice how she almost speaks his name, how these meaningless strings of letters and numbers somehow bridge the gap to memories you've tried so hard to bury — promises whispered under star-sprinkled skies, fingers intertwined beneath the cosmic glow.

Moments that felt eternal then, ephemeral now.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, lying face-down like a surrender.

You blink several times, trying to clear the ghosts from your vision before speaking, your voice emerging barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves might shatter something in the air, "Should I text him?" You ask, offering the idea as if it was something too controversial to be spoken aloud.

Emma shifts her weight, both from exhaustion and the sudden weight of responsibility.

Your night's trajectory now rests in her hands — she who has witnessed every shade of you, from triumph to devastation. Her own memories of him surface: the way he'd raid her ice cream stash only to replace it with a premium pint the next day, how he'd tackle the dish mountain without prompting, those small gestures that made him feel like family.

"He was my favorite boyfriend of yours," she'd told you once, in a moment of wine-honest conversation. "He was a good boy."

A good boy who made a couple mistakes.

But those mistakes had compounded like interest on a debt you never agreed to pay, until the rift between you and Luigi widened into an ocean.

Everything good had been pulled out with the tide — your trust, your shared future — swept away to depths where no light could reach.

"I-" Emma's hand finds the back of her neck, her expression cycling through a slideshow of conflicted emotions. You can see her internal struggle; the desire to crawl into her bed warring with her loyalty to you. And she knows you well enough to realize you'd stay here until sunrise if necessary. "I mean — babe, I love you, but you can't fix this." The admission seems to pain her, as if acknowledging your limitations feels like betrayal. "We aren't techies."

You stare helplessly at your gutted gallery, stripped bare by your own accidental digital vandalism. Your artwork, your portfolio, your future — all reduced to incomprehensible strings of code projected onto an indifferent wall.

"Do you think he'd come?" The question escapes before you can stop it, your eyes magnetized to your phone as if your stare alone could resurrect that old text thread, buried beneath months of careful silence.

"Of course he would."

A soft, defeated whine escapes you as you turn back to glare at your corrupted work, as if you could intimidate it into fixing itself through sheer force of will.

Emma's voice softens, "Hey, he's mature enough to understand you've exhausted your options."

A violent shudder runs through you at the thought of Luigi being your last resort.

You'd managed to exile the visceral memories — the heated arguments that left you gasping for air, the promises that turned to vapor in the morning light.

"Which are?"

Emma looks down at her Pokemon-clad self, then back at you. "Me." She gestures vaguely in your direction, "and you."

The campus sleeps around you, everyone else lost to their dreams or late-night calls home. Just the two of you remain, trapped in this dimly-lit purgatory on a Wednesday night, while error messages mock your existence with their endless scroll.

"Slim pickin's," you mutter as your fingers betray you, finding Luigi's contact with muscle memory that refuses to die.

How many times had you pressed these same digits before?

But this is different.

Different because you haven't spoken since that night in your kitchen, when you stood with your back to him, voice steady despite the trembling in your hands, "So, we aren't going to try to figure this out?" You asked, and he’d responded with some pretentious comparison about your relationship being like corrupted code, fundamentally flawed, destined to fail its own quality test.

The irony isn't lost on you — the very metaphor he used to end things is now the thread that might pull you back into his orbit. Your only connection besides the elaborate dance of avoidance across campus, treating each other's paths like holy ground neither dares to tread.

Opening the thread, you're greeted by your last exchange — your final words to him blazing across the screen in angry blue bubbles: "I want my fucking shit back or I'll make your life a living hell." Such poetry. Your new message hovers in the text box, simpler, desperate in its brevity.

Hey need help with somethin. U up??

You thrust your phone at Emma like it's burning your fingers, watching her eyes widen as they catch on those months-old texts — digital artifacts of your rage that should have been scrubbed before tonight's desperate plea. "Jesus," she whispers, amusement dancing in her expression. "I'd still be licking my wounds if I were hi-"

The familiar buzz cuts through the air, a notification chime that once made your heart leap but now makes it sink.

"What'd he say?" You mumble, gaze fixed on the mocking projection that bathes the room in its sickly digital glow, code continuing its relentless march across the wall.

Emma settles into a chair, hunching over your laptop's makeshift altar. "Said he's at Ruddy's." She squints at a fresh message. "He said 'what do you want?'" She deepens her voice into a cartoonish baritone, making him sound like a caveman discovering text messaging for the first time.

You can't blame him for the cold response — you’d scorched that earth thoroughly.

But a selfish part of you wants to delete the whole exchange, pretend this moment of weakness never happened, go back to the careful choreography of avoiding each other's existence.

But you can't.

The corrupted gallery looming on the wall is a stark reminder that pride is a luxury you can't afford right now.

His icy reception is the natural consequence of your scorched-earth campaign, those venom-laced messages sent in the throes of heartbreak and confusion.

You'd played the role of the woman scorned perfectly, even though you'd written your own tragic script.

"Just send him a picture." You wave listlessly at the wall, where your work continues its digital decomposition, folding in on itself like a dying star. The error messages stretch into an endless serpent of nonsense, each iteration making less sense than the last.

The artificial shutter sound of Emma's photo breaks the silence, followed by the soft swoosh of sending. The wait feels eternal until-

Ding

Emma's attention snaps to your phone resting on her thigh, her eyes widening. "He's typing like he-"

Sorry;m,, I’m fucked uo

Up

I am

fucked up

Emma clicks her tongue and rises, crossing the room to lob your phone into your lap, screen up. "Guess some things don't change." You manage a weak half-grin, memories flooding back unbidden — Luigi stumbling into your dorm in the small hours, wrapped in whiskeys warmth, all soft edges and desperate hands.

"Well, make up your mind." Emma's yawn threatens to unhinge her jaw, arms wrapping around herself like armor. "Are we done here, or are you gonna have him come take a look?"

I’n be there son

I’ll be rherw soo

I’ll be there soon

You stand to wrap your arms around Emma’s shoulders who reluctantly curves her arms upward to squeeze your shoulders. “Go home.” She seems reluctant to listen, staring at your phone screen as if it would take her home itself. “I promise, I’ll be just fine.”

The space between you pulses with that unique warmth reserved for someone who shares your roof, your darkest secrets, and the monthly struggle with Con Edison. "Just don't make any brash decisions."

"Oh, Em." You press a kiss to her forehead. "You think I'm so much cooler than I am."

Emma's laugh follows her as she spins toward the door, collecting pieces of herself like breadcrumbs — the scarf draped over a chair, the coat hung forgotten, the backpack abandoned when the day still held promise.

Each item a marker of how long this digital nightmare has stretched, from sunshine to moonlight.

And as if summoned by cosmic irony, the lab door swings open to reveal Luigi. "Oh - hey, E." The surprise flickers across his face before he schools his features back to neutral.

"Hey, Lu." Her greeting carries the easy familiarity of their old routine, like NPCs in a cozy game exchanging preset dialogue, their paths crossing exactly as programmed.

"You g'na help me with this?"

Emma shakes her head, patting his shoulder as she passes — a gentle handoff. "I did my time." You want to protest, but words fail as you absorb the sight of him, eight months of careful avoidance crumbling in an instant.

"Ahh-" Luigi waves, feigning disappointment through the druken haze. "Need a walk back home?"

Ever the shepherd, guardian of late-night wanderers.

It didn't matter who you were — friend, stranger, ex-lover’s best friend and roommate — his self-appointed mission to ensure everyone's safe return never wavered.

You'd once wondered if it stemmed from some deeper anxiety, his mind unable to rest until every sheep was accounted for in its fold.

Tonight though, the alcohol has mercifully dulled that protective instinct. Emma's potential disappearance into the night ranks lower on his list of concerns than usual, although Emma herself had been the one earlier to warn you of the murderer on campus.

"You still got my location," Emma reminds him — a callback to conversations past, to the day she'd granted Luigi permanent access to her whereabouts, a level of trust you'd wisely withheld.

"Right."

She presses a kiss to her fingers, flashing you a peace sign with the same hand before it briefly lands on Luigi's shoulder. Then she's gone, disappearing into the snow-globe world he'd just stumbled in from. He stands before you now, arms hanging like dead weight, his eyes somehow both wide and narrow.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

You gesture weakly at the wall where your work writhes in digital agony. "So, uh — remember that time you salvaged Professor Wren’s entire thesis when her drive crashed?"

Luigi's eyes follow your hand, professional interest temporarily overriding the awkwardness. He steps closer, squinting at the corrupted display, "Jesus," he mutters, "what did you do to it?"

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" The laugh that escapes is more nervous than you'd like. "It just. - it started disintegrating during final checks."

He's already pulling out his laptop, muscle memory from countless late-night tech rescues. The familiarity of it hits you in the chest — how many times had you watched him do this same thing, hunched over his keyboard, bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration?

"I can try," he says finally, not quite meeting your eyes. "But no promises. When's this due?"

"Tomorrow at nine."

"Of course it is." He drops into the chair beside you, close enough that your elbows almost touch, but enough of a distance to still feel far away. “Okay, walk me through what it's supposed to look like when it's not — uh - whatever this is."

For a moment, Luigi stares at the corrupted display where red pixels bleed and stutter across the wall. His fingers hover over his keyboard, then pause. "Wait. This is your circulatory modeling project? The one you were-“ He cuts himself off, remembering this was before the eight months of silence.

"Yeah." You swallow. "It was working perfectly until an hour ago. Real-time hemodynamics, pressure differentials, vessel elasticity. Everything." Your voice cracks slightly on the last word, feeling more helpless when you verbalize it.

He nods, already typing with uncanny precision despite the slight sway in his posture. "Show me the base code. Did you save any backups?"

"Three. All corrupted." You lean forward, careful not to crowd him as you pull up the mangled files. "It's like something got into the core simulation and just - I dunno - started rewriting them."

"Hm." His eyes scan the screen with that laser focus he somehow maintains no matter how much he drinks, that familiar furrow appearing between his brows. "These values are cascading. One corrupted variable triggering a chain reaction through the whole system." He glances at you, slightly overshooting before correcting. "When's the last time it ran correctly?"

You check your phone. "6:43 PM. I have a screen recording from then."

"Good. That's good." He pulls up a second window, his typing still flawless even as he reaches with his free hand to steady himself against the desk. "We can compare the execution logs, maybe isolate where it started going wrong." His fingers fly across the keys with a precision that seems to mock his clearly inebriated state, and for a moment, it feels like those eight months never happened. "I'm going to need coffee for this." He looks up at you from where he sat, “Or more booze.”

You land on coffee, your feet carrying you down the familiar path to the kitchenette.

The fluorescent lights flicker dimly at this hour, casting strange shadows across the linoleum, the lab's overpriced espresso machine hums to life under your touch, its gentle whirring a counterpoint to the distant sound of Luigi's typing.

Suddenly you're back in that first year, both of you hunched over at 3 AM, him teaching you the proper way to pull a shot: “You're murdering it, stop torturing the beans”, your quiet laughter echoing through empty halls.

"Got it.” His voice carries down the corridor, slurred but triumphant, snapping you back to present.

You return to find him illuminated by screen-glow, his tie loosened and dark hair disheveled. The paper cup lands in front of him — double shot, one packet of raw sugar.

He doesn't stir it, never has.

Instead, he tips the cup back, and you hear that familiar crunch of sugar crystals between his teeth, a sound that used to drive you crazy, until somewhere along the way it became endearing.

Still, the jumbled code taunts you from the screen, though its chaos seems less threatening now. Under Luigi's touch — steady despite the alcohol — your final project is slowly remembering its original shape.

"You should have texted sooner," Luigi murmurs, tilting his head back to collect the last sugar crystals from his cup. The movement exposes his throat, his collar wrinkled where he's been tugging at it all night.

"Well," you say, watching the way his fingers dance across the keys, each stroke precise despite his obvious intoxication, "takes a minute to swallow something as big as my pride."

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, eyes never leaving the screen where broken code is knitting itself back together under his attention.

"Oh," he huffs out a laugh, the sound low and dangerous in the quiet lab, "I've seen you swallow far bigger things before."

It strikes like summer lightning — quick, bright, and leaving the air charged in its wake. The innuendo lands with no real bite, yet you find your jaw slack, a startled laugh shaking loose from your chest.

"Kidding," Luigi says, his eyes flicking from screen to you and back again. There’s a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, softened by the alcohol but still sharp enough to cut. You wave him back to his work, grateful for the blue glow of monitors that hides your flush. "You kinda set that up perfectly, though."

He squints up at the projection where your broken code still bleeds across the wall, letting out a soft grunt of frustration at some digital roadblock. "Just mean — ya know, you could have caught me two beers deep instead of seven."

You shrug a shoulder, watching as the projection slowly crystallizes into something recognizable. "Seems you work better under such conditions."

The lie tastes metallic.

You both know the truth.

Luigi would have come if he was sober as sunrise or drowning in bourbon. Would have come with broken ribs or pneumonia or his heart barely beating. Would have traced these familiar hallways blind, deaf, or dying — because that's what the two of you do.

Have always done.

You've seen him at rock bottom, curled into himself on cold bathroom tiles at midnight, trembling hands pressed against his mouth as if he could physically hold back the pain that wracked his body. Watched him try to explain to puzzled doctors how someone so young could hurt so constantly, the frustration in his voice when they suggested it was all in his head.

You were there through the trials of medications, the nights when existence itself seemed too heavy to bear.

And you've seen him soar; standing tall in that charcoal suit that made him look older, more polished, shaking hands with tech giants who saw in him what you'd always known was there, his future spreading out before him like a golden road, brilliant and boundless.

Now he sits here, seven drinks deep but coding like he's never been clearer, and you realize that maybe both versions are equally true.

Maybe that's what makes him Luigi — the ability to contain multitudes, to be simultaneously broken and brilliant, wounded and wonderful.

He catches you watching him and raises an eyebrow, the gesture slightly delayed, which means you must have been a bit too obvious. "What?"

"Nothing.”

His fingers pause on the keys, and even through the alcoholic haze, his gaze pins you like a butterfly to cork. "No, really. What?" The words have a slight blur around their edges, but his focus is knife-sharp.

You could deflect again, but there's something about 4 AM and code that glows like dying stars that makes honesty feel less dangerous, perhaps you’re finding comfort in the fact that Luigi is drunk, although you’re stone cold sober.

"Just thinking about that time in the Thompson building bathroom." Your voice comes out softer than intended. "When you couldn't stand up, and I had to convince the janitor you had food poisoning."

He doesn't flinch from the memory like he used to.

Instead, his mouth curves into something caught between a smile and a grimace. "You told him it was from the cafeteria." His fingers resume their dance across the keyboard, but slower now. "Got the whole place investigated by health services."

"Yeah, but got us three days off while they checked fucking everything.” you remind him.

"Got me through that week," he corrects quietly, and for a moment, the mask of that brilliant-drunk-techie slips, showing the man underneath who still remembers what it feels like to be held together by nothing but someone else's faith in you.

Then he blinks, and the vulnerability is gone, replaced by that familiar crooked grin. "Though I maintain the cafeteria deserved the inspection anyway."

The projection flickers, another section of code healing itself under his touch, and you wonder if he knows you'd do it all again.

Every bathroom floor, every late-night crisis, every moment of putting him back together - you'd choose it every time.

"Speaking of which," you venture carefully, watching his hands move across the keyboard. "How's the new treatment working?"

His right shoulder shifts in what might be a shrug, but there's a shadow of a real smile playing at his mouth.

Not the sharp, defensive one he wears like armor, but something softer, more genuine. "Six months post-op and I actually slept through the night last week. First time in -“ he pauses, considering, "Fuck, I don't even remember how long."

The admission hangs in the air between you, weighted with the two years of 2 AM phone calls, of nights spent pacing, of pain medications that never quite touched the core of the problem.

Watching him try to code through hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

"Still hurts sometimes," he adds, almost absently. "But it's different now. More like background noise than a scream." His fingers still on the keyboard, and for a moment he looks almost surprised by his own words. "Guess that's what normal people feel like all the time, huh?"

The question carries an edge of wonder, like someone who's lived in darkness suddenly discovering dawn.

You watch him roll his shoulder — a gesture that used to be followed by a wince but now flows smooth and unconscious — and think about how strange it must be, learning to live without constant pain after it's become part of your identity.

"Though I kind of miss having an excuse to drunk-code at 4 AM" he adds, but you both know it's a lie.

The code blurs on the projection as silence settles between you, charged with something that's been building for ages — through bathroom floors and hospital visits, through triumphs and failures, through pain and healing.

The alcohol has stripped away Luigi’s careful boundaries, leaving raw honesty in their place.

"You know," Luigi says slowly, finally turning from the screen to face you fully, "I never thanked you properly. For all of it."

"You don't need to-"

Your diagram pulses back to life, the holographic heart rotating lazily against the wall.

Its red glow bathes the room in a surreal warmth, catching on the sharp angles of Luigi's face, softening them into something almost dreamlike.

The light flickers across his cheekbones, turns his eyes to amber, makes the whole moment feel suspended between reality and imagination.

"I do." His voice is quiet but firm, steadier than someone seven drinks deep should manage. "Because I've been thinking — now that I can actually think clearly without-“he gestures vaguely at his back, at all the years of pain, "I've been thinking about how you're the only constant. The only person who never-“ He trails off.

You lean a little closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his voice. "Never what?"

"Never saw me as broken." He turns himself toward you, and there's something desperate in his eyes, something the alcohol has finally given him the courage to show. "Never treated me like I needed fixing. Just stayed. Through everything."

Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. He takes your silence as a sign, turning back to the screen with a sharp exhale that might be resignation or relief — you're not sure which would be worse.

"Lu,” you say softly, and something in your voice makes his fingers still on the keyboard. "Look at me."

He does, slowly, like he's afraid of what he might find.

The neon bathes half his face in crimson, leaving the other half in shadow, and you see the moment his carefully constructed walls start to crumble.

"Time hasn’t changed that much about me.” you say, each word deliberate, heavy with meaning.

His breath catches audibly. You watch the impact of your words ripple across his face — surprise, understanding, and something else, something that makes your heart race against your ribs.

"Hasn’t it?” Luigi is focusing on you now, the reason he really came here now practically completed but pushed aside until further notice. “Eight months is a long time to hold onto -“ he gestures vaguely between you, as if he can’t quite say what it was. Hopeless devotion, the right person, wrong time.

“Not long enough to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“You.”

His breath catches again, a sharp inhale that seems to pull all the oxygen from the room. When he speaks, his voice is rough and ragged, “Maybe that’s the problem.” His gaze drifts down to watch as you lick your lips, and back up again. “Maybe you should have.”

[stromblessed]

What makes me crazy about Arcane season 2 is that, if you watch only the final episode of season 2, there is nothing wrong with this interpretation of the themes or of Viktor's character. It is, obviously, a beautiful - if simple - sentiment that we all love to see in stories. And Viktor shown as the unloved misunderstood villain next to Jayce's unquestionably heroic narrative and forgiving heart supports this statement, as well as feeding the fire of jay//vik shippers.

This is assuming that season 2, and the final act of season 2 in particular, was written as a proper continuation and conclusion to the whole of Arcane. Which it was not.

Season 1 Viktor is pursuing change and "evolution" at first because he loves science and wants to help the undercity, and then later, because he is dying. He doesn't want to die without leaving behind a legacy. He doesn't want to die, period. What does that have to do with him not feeling loved? Interpreting Viktor's attempts to survive and his desire for legacy and success as "wrong" or something he should not have done instead of seeking love in Jayce or Sky flattens his character and moves him away from the themes of tragedy, progress, technology, and the gray area that exists between heroism and villainy, and makes season 1 less coherent.

You can take the season 2 finale and retroactively apply "Viktor wasn't loved enough/didn't understand love" to season 1 and sort of season 2 acts 1 and 2, but this involves imagining scenes and dialogue to fill in what wasn't written in season 1. It is not present in the text.

What is present in the text in season 1 is the class struggle. How Viktor is shafted in Piltover compared to Jayce. And how Jayce does not understand how Viktor is being shafted, nor how Viktor feels about that or Jayce's involvement in that imbalance. Viktor's one solitary attempt to reach out to Jayce and tell him what he's up to is nipped in the bud by Viktor himself because of Jayce's prejudice and the threat he poses by wielding power he doesn't know how to use - a microcosm of the threat Piltover poses to the undercity on a daily basis. The rift between them grows throughout season 1 as a result, culminating in Jayce's frankly inadvisable and rushed efforts to make changes between Piltover and Zaun that are ultimately futile anyway, and result in all of Jayce's fears and prejudices against the undercity being tragically and unfortunately validated anyway. Which does not carry through to season 2 at all, but that's for another post.

What is present in the text in season 2 acts 1 and 2 is... not much, if we're being honest. Viktor leaves Piltover because Jayce crossed multiple lines. Probably including the fact that Hextech is being weaponized (frustrating how this is not in the script - Fortiche animators could only show this through hints in the scenery and later in a music montage). Viktor is in the commune in act 2, he's not acting like himself, and it's about evolution, magic, and Viktor's attempts to "help" the undercity being futile no matter what he does. Jayce gets a hamfisted "arc" of - somehow? - unlearning his prejudice or something without meaningfully interacting with anyone from the cast let alone anyone from the undercity, with a halfhearted attempt at making him look like a misunderstood crazy person who is really "right all along."

By the time we get to act 3, Viktor's sudden turn to black-and-white villainy, his focus on "perfection," let alone Jayce's sudden black-and-white heroism and suddenly being "in the right" while Viktor is "in the wrong" is completely incoherent with everything that came before. And season 2's oddly disconnected and simplistic writing is smoothed over with "love was the answer all along. and poor Viktor never understood that until the very end :("

[marvelrivalsplayer69420]

gambit, daredevil, and punisher with a reader who crochets\knits

a\n: the gambit section ended up a little shorter than i intended. hope y'all enjoy <3

tags: gender-neutral reader, includes some knit\crochet terms, gambit's section is a bit short, just pure fluff.

Gambit ♠️

Remy likes watching you move your hands. he especially likes having you in his lap with his head over your shoulder, eyes focused on your hands and the yarn. when you pull from the outside and it rolls, he always seems to catch the yarn just before it falls off the couch\bed and put it back where it belongs.

sometimes he asks what you’re making and how you’re making it, just to hear you talk passionately about it. he listens with intensity, leaning in and watching you show him your progress and nods along to your plans, a little smile on his face when you get excited as he encourages you.

“That scarf’s really comin’ along, non? Can’t wait ‘til you’re all bundled up in it, s’long as you still let me kiss the frostbite off your cheeks.”

whenever you finish crocheting, he’s taking your hands in his and looking over them, kissing them, and encouraging you to stretch so you don’t get sore wrists and fingers.

Remy loves anything you make for him and treats your projects with respect, like asking you how to wash that delicate wool scarf you made for him without ruining it or which pair of gloves he should wear if you made multiple pairs for him.

he loves how creative you are. he even likes to get a little involved in your creative process if you ask which color, stitch, or style you should make something in, he gives a second opinion. but his “second opinion” is mainly based on the fact of whether or not he thinks you’d like the outcome more— because he will memorize your favorite stitches, colors, and aesthetics. he just wants you to enjoy what you’re doing.

he loves to wear and model the things you make for him; sweaters, gloves, scarves, socks, hats— anything wearable, he is willing to model for you personally. especially if you have a small business, he is willing to model for a pattern you make.

“Merci, I’m lookin’ real fine in dis sweater, cher. Maybe you should get in dis sweater wit’ me so we can get all cozy together?”

“Remy, honey, I need you to stop moving. I’m trying to take your picture for the pattern. We can cuddle after I get these pictures taken.”

“Mmm, okay, whatever you need Gambit gon’ deliver, cher. You jus’ tell me how to pose for dem pictures.”

Daredevil ⚖️

once Matt knows the audible differences, he can’t unlearn them; the clicking of needles vs the barely audible sound of a hook moving through stitches. crochet specifically is so quiet that sometimes he forgets you’re even crocheting. that’s when he reaches for your thigh and finds himself with a fistful of yarn instead.

loves those super soft chenille or blanket yarns. he yearns for a huge chenille blanket for the bed but he doesn’t ask for one; the yarn just shows up randomly in your stash and oh look it’s just the right amount to make a blanket or a Matt-sized sweater with.

doesn’t like the texture of most wool, cotton, or acrylic yarns; he says it feels like sandpaper on his skin. but he’ll still cuddle close to you if you’re wearing a sweater made out of it. if you manage to find a wool\cotton\acrylic yarn that is soft enough for him, he’ll wear whatever you make out of it with pride.

sometimes when you’re making for hours and hours, he’ll grab your wrist and feel the strain in it before telling you to take a break.

“But I gotta finish this row, Matt—”

“Sweetheart, I can feel the strain in your wrists. Take a break and stretch. I know how much you need it.”

he loves the things you make just for him; the chunky knit blanket that he loves bundling up in when you’re away because it reminds him of you, those knit gloves that he wears every day in winter, and the tie you knit for him for his birthday that he cherishes. if you like gifting him socks then you’ll never see him without them.

always finds himself reaching for something you’ve made when he needs it. that blanket on the couch. that sweater you made for him. scrubbies and towels you made out of that harsh cotton yarn that he’d never wear but doesn’t mind doing the dishes with.

he finds himself appreciating the projects that don’t work out how you wanted them to, the stuff with flaws that are still lovable and practical. like that wonky pillow you aren’t quite proud of or your first project(s) that show all that inexperience and excitement you had when you started. he cherishes them.

he enjoys moving his hand over one of your projects and feeling it; fingertips tracing each stitch as he makes out a detailed image of it in his head, even if he can’t see it. color is always missing from this unfortunately, so he might ask you to describe the colors of the rows and stitches as he moves his hand over them. always smiles when you respond and you can see that warm look in his eyes as he listens intently.

you could detail an entire color graph stitch by stitch and he’d be able to guess what it looked like without you telling him. he could tell a checkerboard pattern from a complex fair isle if you gave him the color and type of stitch for each individual stitch in there.

Punisher 💀

Frank’s still not familiar with most of the terms, but once you explain the difference between knitting and crochet, he never mixes them up again. he doesn’t even have to look at you knitting on the couch to know you’re knitting because he can pick up the small clicking of the needles.

likes to watch you when he thinks you’re not looking, then he’ll sit nearby and ask some questions about your project; the type of yarn you’re using, if you’re going by a pattern or doing it freehand, and if you need more.

unfortunately, he’s always able to tell when you don’t have enough yarn even when you’re on the precipice of winning yarn chicken.

“You got enough yarn? Could get you some more. I don’t think you’re gonna finish that with that much, sweetheart.”

“It’s really close. I think I might have just enough to do it.”

loves to take you shopping for yarn and supplies. he’s actually very engaged in it; likes walking down the aisles with you, holding the basket or cart and watching your reactions so he can gauge what you like and don’t like. he likes pointing out the stuff you missed if he thinks you’ll like it. he also likes to insist you make things for yourself.

Frank will not let you pay for your yarn, no matter the price. in fact, if you only plan on getting a few skeins of cheap yarn, he will insist you the expensive hand-dyed yarn he saw you eying earlier.

the only way you can pay for your own yarn\supplies is if you order it online without telling him. he’ll catch the package every time because he insists on getting the mail every morning.

“Hey hey hey, what’s this doll? Got a whole box of yarn I didn’t know about?”

“Oh, I just bought some online from Hobbii— is that ok?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t pay for it yourself did ya? You used my card right?”

“Uh… no…”

“How much you pay for it?” Frank says as he’s digging through his wallet for cash, fully prepared to give you the amount with shipping included. If you refuse at first, he’ll just sneak twice the amount into your wallet when you’re not looking.

he makes sure you take breaks throughout the day. he’ll look up stretches specifically for knitters and crocheters and he will teach you them and every hour or two he’ll make you do them. the second you stop for a break, he’s making you do them again even if you just did them five minutes ago.

he will wear anything and everything you make for him. he’ll use only the dishcloths and scrubbies you made. the main blanket he uses to bundle up with you on the couch on movie nights is one you made. he only wears clothes you make for him at home because he would be heartbroken to stain or ruin any of them on missions.

one time you knit him a pair of pink socks with strawberries on them to match a pair you made for yourself, just to see if he would wear it. says he’s not gonna wear them but each time you’re both spending the day inside, he’s wearing them. eventually he wears them out to the point where you need to mend a hole in the toe or heel.

if you give a handmade gift to someone not knitworthy (someone who doesn’t appreciate a handmade gift and doesn’t understand the time and effort put into it) then Frank is gonna have a private talk with them and depending on how it goes, they’ll either be suddenly grateful OR it might end up regifted to Frank if he thinks they don’t deserve it.

“Hey Frank, isn’t that the scarf I gave to my boss for Christmas? Why are you wearing it?”

“Just thought I’d appreciate it more after the talk I had with him, ‘kay sweetheart?”

“…Please tell me you didn’t kill my boss.”

“What? No, I just had a talk with him about your gift and decided I’d be able to take better care of it.”

“I think that’s considered stealing—”

“No it ain’t, if anything he was stealing your hard work from you by not appreciating your thoughtful gift… and by making ya work overtime when Cheryl doesn’t show up.”

[d-romanov]

eep i’m obsessed with your stories!! if you want any inspiration, maybe soft mama nat taking care of R when she’s sick? R probably isn’t used to being cared for in that way because of her past, and is adamant at first that she’s fine. Ofc Nat provides lots of cuddles and carries weak R throughout the tower

everyone needs a sick day

[ 845 words ]

[ natasha romanoff x teen!widow!reader ]

notes: i'm so glad you like them!! i'm always a sucker for soft nat, and it was fun to write reader being so stubborn :P i hope you enjoy!!

summary: reader is sick and stubborn and natasha thinks it's funny.

cw: mentions of past abuse (the red room)

You figured that your sneezing the other day had just been allergies, and that the chills you had last night were simply the air conditioning being up too high. The unpleasant aching all over must have just been from overdoing it while you were sparring the other day, and your cough was simply a consequence of the air being so dry. It was the middle of winter in New York City, after all.

At no point did you truly consider you were sick. Avenger or not, you were still a Widow, and Widows simply didn't get sick.

Being sick meant you were vulnerable, weak. Weakness wasn't tolerated because weakness got you killed.

It took a long time for you to unlearn all the things you'd been taught, no matter how often Natasha reminds you you're safe when you wake up from a nightmare.

You'd made a lot of progress in your year at the tower, but there were some things that just didn't go away that fast.

So, out of a deeply rooted fear, only exacerbated by the low-grade fever you've had the last two days, you decided you wouldn't tell anyone.

Of course, Natasha, your mentor and mother figure, saw through it straight away when you walked into the kitchen for breakfast. She noted your especially sluggish movements and subtle shivering while you shuffled to the counter.

"How'd you sleep, y/n?" You rub your eyes to try and wake yourself up.

"Fine, you?" It comes out really scratchy and bugs your throat, but you're able to suppress the cough that threatens to bubble up. You're fine.

"I slept alright, just got a little too warm last night, did you notice that?" You're not sure if she's caught on, but you know the tower has impeccable temperature control.

"Eh, a little, wasn't that bad though." You throat feels especially dry when you swallow, and you try to suppress another cough. It doesn't work however, and the choked noise that leaves you is painful.

"Yup thought so." Natasha makes her way next to you and hold her hand to your head, to which you unconsciously lean into the cooling touch. "You're sick, hun."

"M'not sick." You grumble, not bothering to move your head away or sit up straight. You know you've been caught.

"Sweetheart, you're burning up. Let's get you back to bed and get some medicine in you."

Your sick daze impedes your rational thought, and your heart skips a beat at the mention of "medicine."

"No, no Nat 'm fine, really." You stumble when you stand too fast, but Natasha catches your arms gently.

"No, you're sick y/n." Her tone is soft but firm, she's not trying to punish your weakness, she just wants to help. "Now are you gonna listen or do I have to carry you back?" Her mouth quirks up.

You glare defiantly up at Natasha's slightly amused expression. You're not a baby, you don't need to be carried.

Your face scrunches up. "I'm fine." And you sneeze right as you say it. Wonderful.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you. "Alright then," Next thing you know, she's scooped you up with her hands under your back and legs. "Carried it is."

"Wha-! Nat put me down!" You practically squeal as you squirm in her arms, but her hold doesn't falter once.

"Nope! You, miss, are going back to bed and resting until you're better."

"But-!"

"No buts."

You grumble and cross your arms, tucking your head into her neck, which feels cool against your hot forehead.

As Natasha carries you through the tower, you feel yourself relax. Her neck is relief from the fever and headache, the rhythmic bounce from every step is practically rocking you to sleep.

Your body is still periodically shocked by a harsh cough or chill, but Natasha kisses your forehead and shushes you, or squeezes your body a little tighter against hers.

You think you hear someone say 'hi' because Natasha stops before you're on your floor yet, but you're too content in your position to acknowledge it.

Soon enough, you're being placed gently back in your bed and being handed a glass of water and some Tylenol.

You tiredly swallow the pills and drink most of the water, which is soothingly cold as it goes down.

Natasha tucks you in warmly and swipes your hair from your face. "You'll feel better if you get some rest, малышка, and I'll make you some soup when you wake up."

You giggle tiredly. "You can't cook, мама,"

Natasha blows a raspberry at you. "Okay, I'll microwave you some canned soup. How's that?"

"s' good." You're failing at keeping your eyes open, and Nat turns the bedside lamp off and moves to leave. You grumble.

"What is it, детка?"

You reach your hand out lazily, eyes shut and brows furrowed. "Stay."

Natasha smiles and lifts the covers, scooting down and pulling you close under her chin. "Sleep, love."

After some shifting you settle against her and your breathing soon evens out, soundly asleep in your mother's arms.

[my-fancy-hat]

denji's progression is backwards, not in the sense he's unlearning his development but literally regressing to the womb. early part 2 was his crowning moment, displayment of an autonomous person living his life ahead, moving foward in a clear road alongside his new family, a girlfriend, graduating and a job are his goals ahead. as the story progresses external forces make denji start doubting his place in his world and bluring his boundaries, so things like SA start happening again, and other people are to decide how denji must live. this is followed by the textual destruction of his complete identity, csm, denji and a man, toyed around as an idol and bringed back by external forces once again. but denji comes back to the past figuratelly, put into his childhood clothes and a yakuza (his ex-boss' grandson) is there to torture him like old times. the epitome of the progression once existed, after everything denji went through in part 1, was nayuta's birth, result of the transmutation of his pain and failure as an idol/son/lover to this newborn daughter/sibling. but story repeats itself, his family gets killed and the new control devil is eaten, everything comes back to zero. denji wasn't capable of fulfilling his part of the contract, so pochita takes control over his body and fights to keep him alive. denji right now is dead, pochita is the womb carrying the corpse, death and birth.

unfortunerally for this part, power came back to save denji and their friendship inspired him keep on living, but i can't see an equivalent of her role in the story right now. Denji has never been this lonely in his life, so i'm expectant of how things will go from here.

[t00thpasteface]

recently a colony of paper wasps set up shop on my backyard patio and made a gigantic honeycomb nest on an outdoor ceiling fan pretty much right outside the back door. i've been making progress on unlearning my instinctive phobias of certain bugs through exposure therapy but my stomach still drops whenever i see a wasp just minding its own business. like it's not that i think they're evil and sting-crazy; mostly i think i don't trust myself to not clumsily violate Wasp Etiquette. however i just went outside to check on the ivy i repotted yesterday, and the sun is still coming up so it's still cool and dewy in the yard, and i got to see like five or six paper wasps just clinging to their nest of like 20 or 30 eggs, all totally still except one or two that were very sleepily checking on all the babies. i did it guys. i looked at a wasp nest and thought "aww that's so cute! ^_^" i feel like i passed a test and unlocked a new world of caring about this beautiful planet and its creachers. i can so clearly see those wasps yawning wih their little coffee mugs...

[strayrockette]

She Should Know Part 4

THE TASTE OF SOMETHING KNEW 

Summary: New feelings and old wounds are in abundance for Y/N. Unlearning everything she knew, is a lot harder than planned. But sometimes all that is needed is help.

Warnings: Mild Angst, some fluff

Part 1🟣Part 2🟣Part 3

Masterlist—Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Life moved on in its slow, unrelenting way, and you did your best to keep pace. The well of disappointment and insecurity nestled in your chest never emptied, but you’d learned to cover it with a façade. Smiles, fleeting and strained. Creations, some half-formed, some failed entirely. Laughter, light and fleeting, never quite touching the core of you. You buried the ache under long hours of work, let it mingle with the persistent sting of distance—distance from a past you had left behind but not truly escaped.

Still, there was progress. Small, almost imperceptible steps. Waking up in the mornings without the weight of fear pressing against your ribs was new. You no longer jumped at shadows or cast nervous glances over your shoulder, expecting trouble to materialize in the form of one of Thomas’s ill-conceived schemes—or someone worse. There was a kind of peace in being surrounded by people who followed the rules, who found joy in simple routines and shared goals. It wasn’t an exhilarating life, but it was steady and quiet. A breath of fresh air after years of suffocation.

Then there was Claude.

Claude was unlike anyone you had ever known. His edges weren’t jagged or worn down by the harshness of life. His hands, though strong, didn’t carry the calluses of violence or the stains of misdeeds. He didn’t need to command attention or weave charm with ulterior motives. He was simply himself—Claude—with green eyes that held an endless calm, a boyish smile that softened even the hardest days, and a presence that was as warm and comforting as fresh bread coming out of the oven.

Yet, the thought of Thomas lingered like a shadow. Your heart twisted at the memory of him, at the chaos and damage he had wrought. Your grip on the rag tightened as you scrubbed the counter with mindless fervor, the repetitive motion a small comfort in its predictability.

“Mon cher,” Claude’s voice broke through, soft and melodic, laced with that ever-present accent that sent an unbidden warmth curling in your chest. His fingers brushed your arm—a fleeting touch, light as a whisper.

You stilled, your gaze snapping up from the counter to meet his. His green eyes studied you, searching, but without prying. They were too soft, too patient, and somehow that made them more intimidating than any piercing blue gaze you’d known. You swallowed, forcing your breath to steady.

“Oui,” you murmured, shifting under the weight of his attention. “Lost in thought.”

Claude tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Busy thoughts,” he teased lightly, though his gaze lingered, brushing over the faint lines of exhaustion that etched your face. He had never pressed you for details about your life—about Birmingham, about Thomas—but his curiosity was there, quiet and unobtrusive.

“Always,” you replied softly, eyes dropping to the counter. His presence was unnervingly steady, a stark contrast to the tumult you carried within. When you looked up again, he had settled against the counter beside you, arms folded, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

“You’re staring again,” you said, a weak attempt at deflection, your heart hammering against your ribs as you turned your attention back to scrubbing the same worn spot on the counter.

Claude hummed, a low, amused sound. “And you have been cleaning the same spot for the last twenty minutes,” he retorted smoothly. His smile widened, boyish and disarming. “You are lucky Chef isn’t here. He’d have you rearranging the entire storage room by now.”

A small laugh escaped you, light and genuine. “I suppose I am lucky then,” you said, shaking your head. But your fingers fidgeted with the rag, betraying the nervous energy you couldn’t quite contain. “Did you need something?” you asked, risking another glance at him.

He shook his head, his green eyes warm, holding your gaze like a steady anchor. “I’m walking you home,” he reminded you, his tone gentle yet firm.

Your breath caught, and you nodded, the weight of his insistence settling over you. It was hard to forget that he had made this his nightly ritual, ensuring you got home safely after the long shifts at the restaurant. At first, you’d protested. You’d argued, reasoning that you were perfectly capable of walking yourself home. Claude, however, was persistent in a way that wore down even the strongest of defenses.

Initially, he had pretended it was coincidental, walking the same path as you. But you knew better. He lived on the opposite side of town, yet there he was, strolling at your pace, always a few steps behind until you relented. It was maddening—and endearing.

“I’ll get my things,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. There was no point in arguing anymore. As you turned toward the back room to fetch your coat, you caught his smile—patient, unwavering, and so full of quiet care that it sent a ripple of warmth through the icy walls around your heart.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad, you thought, to have someone like Claude. Someone who waited, who didn’t demand but offered. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to let the warmth in, just a little. But that thought was as terrifying as it was comforting, and as you grabbed your coat, you found yourself hoping he wouldn’t see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

When you returned, Claude was waiting, the soft light of the café catching the warmth in his gaze. He didn’t rush you, didn’t comment on the time you had taken. He simply smiled, and in that moment, the air felt lighter.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

You stepped out into the cool night air, your heart racing as you fell into step beside him. His presence at your side was steady, unshakable, and for the first time in a long time, you felt something akin to safety.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Did you mention that Claude was persistent? Because he was. His kind of persistence wasn’t the loud, aggressive type. It was quieter, more patient, but no less relentless. You laughed softly, almost incredulously, as you watched him navigate your small kitchen like he belonged there. His movements were graceful, as if he had done this a thousand times before.

“Honestly, Claude,” you said, your voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, “I can cook for myself just fine.”

His fingers didn’t falter as he sliced through a carrot with practiced ease. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board punctuated the silence before he spoke. “You are tired, mon cher,” he said, his tone carrying a gentle resolve. He glanced up briefly, his green eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your breath hitch. “In many ways. Let me help.”

It wasn’t a command, nor a suggestion. It was a soft plea, and something about it hit you harder than it should have. Your brows furrowed as you sank into the creaky kitchen chair, suddenly feeling the weight of everything you had been holding at bay. The walls you had built felt flimsy, the steady cadence of his voice unsettling them in ways you didn’t fully understand.

Your eyes watered, and you blinked rapidly, as if that could banish the sting. It was stupid—unbelievably stupid. He hadn’t said anything groundbreaking. And yet, the way his green eyes held yours, unwavering and steady, spoke volumes. His voice softened when he said “let me help,” the words cradling something deeper, something unspoken. It wasn’t just about dinner. It couldn’t be.

Help with what? Dinner, just this once? The ache in your chest that had never quite gone away? The chaos in your mind that refused to quiet? The parts of you that still couldn’t trust, still couldn’t believe someone like Claude could exist without an ulterior motive? The questions swirled, tangling with the rawness of your emotions.

You dropped your gaze, your fingers brushing absently over the rim of your wine glass. The cool surface grounded you, but only slightly. “You didn’t exactly give me a choice, Claude,” you said quietly, the faintest tremor in your voice. You forced a small, bitter smile as you added, “You’re very persistent.”

He sighed softly, the sound so gentle it seemed to blend with the simmering pot of stew on the stove. Setting the knife down, he picked up the cutting board and scraped the neatly chopped herbs into the pot. The aroma of simmering herbs and broth filled the room, a comforting scent that did little to ease the tension in your chest.

“You’re worth it, mon cher,” he said, his voice low but firm. He turned to look at you then, the sincerity in his gaze so piercing it made your throat tighten. “I think, you forget this.”

The words landed with the weight of a stone in your chest. Your heart clenched painfully, and your lips trembled as you pressed them together, trying to hold back the flood threatening to spill. You didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to reconcile the ache in your chest with the warmth his words ignited.

The room was quiet save for the bubbling stew and the faint sound of your unsteady breath. Claude didn’t press. He didn’t push or demand more from you than you could give. He simply turned back to the stove, stirring the pot with careful attention, as though his only purpose in that moment was to ensure the stew didn’t burn.

You stared at him, at the way his shoulders moved, steady and strong, at the way he seemed so sure of what he was doing—both with the meal and with you. He wasn’t Thomas. He wasn’t chaos or manipulation or control masquerading as care. He was Claude, with his green eyes and quiet persistence and words that lingered in the air long after they were spoken.

Your finger traced the edge of the wine glass again, and this time, the tears fell silently and your lip trembled as you glanced at your glass. You didn’t realize how much a part of you had craved to hear those words from anyone but yourself. How often had you imagined Thomas saying it to you. Choosing you. Staying with you. He never did, 'Obviously'. Yet, in the here and now with Claude in your kitchen, in your life, a small part wondered if that had been a good thing. To not be chosen by Thomas Shelby despite how much your heart had craved his love and affection.

Claude didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. Not directly, anyway. But he didn’t need to. His movements were unhurried and calm as he stirred the pot of stew, his back to you. The quiet between you wasn’t heavy—it wasn’t demanding or awkward. It was… patient. Like him.

The bubbling of the stew filled the space, a rhythmic, soothing sound that seemed to match the steady cadence of his breathing. He reached for a wooden spoon and, with practiced ease, dipped it into the pot. He tasted the broth, nodding slightly to himself before adding a pinch of salt and stirring again. The aroma of the meal enveloped the room, rich and savory, wrapping itself around you like a comforting blanket.

You wiped at your cheeks hastily, frustrated with yourself for letting your emotions spill over. When you glanced up again, Claude had turned, a bowl in one hand. He didn’t speak, didn’t comment on the redness in your eyes or the way your fingers fidgeted. 

Instead, he set the bowl down gently in front of you, along with a spoon. “Eat,” he said softly, the command wrapped in a kindness that didn’t leave room for argument.

You hesitated, looking down at the steaming stew. The rich, earthy scent of herbs and vegetables filled your senses, a quiet reminder of how little you’d eaten lately. Your stomach twisted from the vulnerability of the moment. You looked back up at him, unsure, only to find his green eyes waiting for yours, steady and unyielding but not overbearing.

“I’ll make a bowl for myself,” he said, as though he could read the reluctance on your face and wanted to ease it. “We’ll eat together.”

You nodded, the small gesture all you could muster as your voice caught in your throat. He returned to the stove, ladling stew into another bowl with the same care he had given to yours. When he joined you at the table, the chair across from you creaked slightly under his weight as he sat down.

Claude didn’t rush you. He didn’t press you with questions or try to coax you into talking. He simply started eating, his movements slow and unhurried, as if to remind you that there was no expectation here. You watched him for a moment, the way his shoulders relaxed, the soft hum of approval he gave as he savored the stew. It was a sound so small and genuine that it made your chest ache all over again.

You picked up your spoon, the warmth of the bowl radiating into your hands. The first bite was tentative, the flavors rich and grounding. For a few moments, the stew was all you could focus on—its warmth, the way it spread through you like a quiet reassurance that you were, at least in this moment, cared for.

Claude glanced up at you, his gaze softening as he saw you eat. He didn’t smile—he didn’t need to. The slight relaxation in his expression said enough. “Good?” he asked simply.

You nodded, swallowing the bite before murmuring, “It’s perfect.”

He hummed softly, returning to his meal, but not before reaching for the wine bottle on the table. He poured a little more into your glass without asking, his movements deliberate and thoughtful. “You’ve worked hard today,” he said, not as a question but as a fact. “You deserve to rest.”

The lump in your throat returned, but this time, it wasn’t from sorrow. It was something softer, something that made you want to believe him, even if part of you still doubted. You sipped the wine, letting the quiet between you stretch. The room felt smaller, cozier, the air tinged with the warmth of the meal and the man sitting across from you.

Claude’s presence wasn’t overwhelming. It was steady, a quiet assurance that he didn’t need you to fill the silence or explain yourself. His way of offering comfort wasn’t in words or grand gestures, but in the way he shared the space with you, letting you take what you needed at your own pace.

When the bowls were empty, he stood, gathering the dishes without a word. You moved to protest, to take them from him, but he waved you off with a slight shake of his head. “You sit,” he said firmly but gently, carrying the bowls to the sink.

You stayed where you were, your fingers tracing the rim of your wine glass again. For the first time in a long time, the ache in your chest felt… quieter. It wasn’t gone—it never fully was—but it had receded, softened by the warmth of the meal, the steadiness of his presence, and the quiet way he reminded you that you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

“Claude,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence as he rinsed the bowls. He turned, looking over his shoulder at you, waiting. The words you wanted to say caught in your throat, too big and too raw to voice just yet. So you settled on the simplest truth. “Thank you.”

His lips curved into a small smile, one that didn’t need words to say everything you couldn’t. He nodded, turning back to the sink, leaving you to sit with the quiet warmth that had settled in your heart. For now, it was enough.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist: @mysticalpandora, @ultimatreality@lovecleastrange@watercolorskyy@rockerchick05@lyarr24@automaticwizardnerd@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts, @chlorrox, @lothbrokcore, johnmurphys-sass, @allie131313, @meadows5, @immyowndefender, @jbrownta, @mokanesa,

A/N: Thank you so much for making it this far 💕I actually had to rewrite this chapter because I wasn't feeling the last one. This feels better than what I originally planned. Claude was literally going to be a minor character. he appeared briefly in Part 2 near the end. Somehow his persistence transcended the second chapter and he fought for a more prominent role for our ole gal🤣❤️

Anywhoooo, please comment, like, and reblog🫰❤️

[libraford]

My mom is learning terms like 'fat-shaming,' which is progress that she knows them and is unlearning her biases.

But I saw the phrase 'barbies caused a lot of fat-shaming' and I'm like...

...look, sure- the majority of bullying about my weight came from kids at school and I can't pretend to know where they got it from. So I could speculate barbie, maybe. I could also speculate a ton of other influences from the media to their parents to other kids.

Buuuut....

....other kids were not trying to give me diet pills at 13. Other kids weren't restricting my portion sizes while I was going through puberty. Other kids wouldn't hear me complain about the anti-fat bullying and say 'well, don't you think they have a point?'

Those were things my mom was doing. Which I don't think that was influenced by plastic dolls.

I think that her unlearning her biases serves the role of an apology. But I do wish she would acknowledge that she was also my bully.

[possamble]

Do you have any headcanons or thoughts about Falin having a crush on Marcille pre-canon? Especially during her later years at the school/the years she was with Laios.

Just full on "awkward and slightly gnc teenage lesbian has a massive crush on the touchy-feely girly girl straight best friend" tropes everywhere. Even better bc it's the "best friend is also the popular girl while lesbian is the slightly ostracized quiet one" dynamic in school. Falin gets so so so good at not having a heart attack every time Marcille gets in her personal space. But she's so resigned to never saying anything bc why would a girl as blinding as Marcille ever like her back. She also doesn't make an effort to get over it either, she's just content to be trapped in that stable dynamic of silently being in love with Marcille while getting to enjoy CLEARLY being Marcille's favourite person. She gets so used to it that it's almost just background noise most of the time-- it would have to be, unless she wanted to be freaking out 24/7 bc Marcille is so goddamn affectionate.

Her feelings also definitely change throughout the time that they're in school together-- at first it was this "whooaaah pretty older girl" puppy crush that you can clearly see developing in the flashbacks we get (I think she doesn't even like... realize her fixation on Marcille is romantic at all until years after it starts, when she's 12-14 ish and all the other girls around her are talking about crushes). But then they get closer, over the years Marcille starts getting really attached and letting down her guard, and Falin gets to see the ridiculous side of her. She gets to calm her down from her tantrums when experiments don't work out, or help her clean up when something explodes in her face. I feel like the progression of her feelings from "schoolgirl infatuation" to "unrequited love" probably almost exactly corresponds to how slowly Marcille goes from trying to keep Falin at a polite but friendly distance (like she does with everyone else) to her facade completely eroding as she becomes her cheerful and ridiculous self again for the first time since her father died.

That's probably the saddest part: Falin knows that she's clearly Marcille's favourite person on the surface level, but she doesn't quite fully grasp the enormity of what that means to Marcille. She doesn't get that she's the person who made the world colorful again for Marcille, that she is the first person outside of Marcille's family to really and truly make her laugh. She just thinks she's the beloved but dinky little short-lived sidekick, one of many that Marcille has had and will have.

Part of it is that, despite Marcille becoming such a clingy and affectionate best friend, I think her initial demeanour already did its damage. You see Falin being super adventurous and weird at first, bringing Marcille berries and other stuff, only to be rebuffed by Marcille exasperatedly saying she's working or looking kind of put off by it. And by the time you see her a little older, shes already quieter and better at masking -- and I'm not saying that that's entirely Marcille's fault (being the weird girl at an all girls academy for almost the entirety of her teenhood must have been brutal, my god) but she definitely learned that she's a potential nuisance to Marcille if she doesn't tone herself down. She learned that Marcille most likely sees her as a weird little kid following her around bc she has no other friends. And for the most part, she was never given any reason to unlearn any of that.

And that all very very smoothly transitions into Marcille being her "first love that was never meant to be anyway" when she leaves the academy. Chapter closed in her mind: she loved and pined from a distance and that was that. Every now and then she'll see another woman with Marcille's build or her shade of hair and be like ":( I miss her..." But then just kinda move on with her day. Same with when she's going through her own spellbook and finds a note that Marcille left her/correction that she made-- she'll smile fondly and reminisce about how much Marcille doted on her, and then move on.

Sometimes she thinks about contacting Marcille but convinces herself that it's too late (she spent too many months focusing on getting Laios healthy again and didn't mean to go no contact, but ah well). It's only when she has a practical reason to be reaching out that would also benefit Marcille ("Marcille is studying dungeons and we need a trustworthy mage to go with us to the dungeons") that she feels like she's allowed/that it wouldn't just be 100% a nuisance.

I almost think she didn't expect Marcille to reply at all, only to get a telegraph (or some in-universe equivalent of express mail, maybe magical pigeon carrier) that's like. EN ROUTE TO ISLAND. LETTER TO FOLLOW. and she freaks out like AAAA LAIOS SHE SAID YES WE HAVE TO CLEAN UP NOW.

I do think getting a response accidentally sparks a little hope in her, judging by the way she acts in the chp 57 flashback-- she's pouty that Marcille sees her as a kid, gets really worked up about being presentable, and then tries to play it cool when she actually meets Marcille (as if she didn't freak out and force Laios to shave while rambling a mile a minute about Marcille). She's an adult now, really and truly, and she's seen and survived things that her 18 yr old self would have never even imagined-- then all of a sudden, the person she was in love with since she was ten years old appears, and she's so desperate to be seen as mature and competent. She's trying soooo hard to impress Marcille with her newfound combat and dungeoneering experience...

Only to fall right back into their old dynamic. RIP. At least she gets the girl eventually, even if it takes dying twice and being the core catalyst behind an almost-apocalypse.

[gildeddlily]

season 2 started off beautifully. I was ecstatic at the end of episode three, for the simple reason that it had the same spirit as season 1. Vi feeling like she made a mistake so big trying to reach Powder instead of seeing Jinx and the danger she represented that the only way to fix that for her was to join her oppressors. Caitlyn destroying all the progress she'd made, unlearning what she'd been taught about Zaun by being with zaunites like Vi, the moment one of them killed her mother, and embracing her roots we can say, talking of bad blood and "I thought you were different"- showing that the internalised racism was always there ready to resurface the moment it had an excuse to. Caitlyn saying that her mother being killed by a teenager who's never dealt with her trauma and mental illness is the same thing as Vi's parents being killed by members of a military institution, disregarding everything she knew about the pain and abuse Vi went through because of the Enforcers. a "men get abused too" situation, in which one ignores the social and historical background of that type of violence to feel less sorry about it. they were perfectly well written, because they are things we see everyday. my father taught me as a child that black people crossing the Mediterranean to look for work in Italy were a good thing, and now that he's had problems at work with one he's started saying the opposite. a gay man I knew laughed at trans folks and said they made things worse for us, ridiculing them in the company of straight people to feel less threatened. (not the exact same thing as what happened to Vi, but you get what I mean).

those are real things, and Arcane has always been good at showing real things.

later on, episode seven, Jayce fell down. he landed in the deepest hole of Zaun, broke his leg, was forced to wear a brace to walk, suffered and had to claw his way back to the surface, to Piltover, in a strange metaphor of Viktor's journey and life (saw a post talking even more beautifully about this, will put the link here if I find it again), and once he met Viktor again, he told him his illness, his legs, he, were beautiful. not despite everything. because of it. and now he can understand him a little more. now he says "your imperfections are beautiful" and we can believe him, because he's not speaking from the perspective of a man trying to convince his friend to stop harming others. he's a man trying to make his partner see that he still loves him, now that he's finally understood him after years of trying to reach the truth and always being stopped by something, and that he understands him enough to know why he's harming others, and that he cares for him enough to think that he will be able to understand why it's wrong. it's Viktor accepting the inevitability of being seen by someone who went to hell and back to reach him.

those were fucking beautiful arcs. they were.

and then?

Vi saw Caitlyn become what she'd always said she wouldn't become, and there were no repercussions. Catelyn got to walk away and live all the same. she lost an eye to Ambessa, but it was no punishment for what she'd done. how many people did she harm? how many people did her actions have repercussions on? Vi shouted at her once, and then it was like it had never happened- which is still real, I guess. it happens everyday. but I didn't see any wish to make us see how that was wrong. I don't want to be told "this is wrong", I'm old enough and smart enough to understand this, but I also think I can see the difference between trying to show deeper meanings and not wanting to deal with difficult plot lines.

and Zaun? it was sad. pathetic. years of abuse were what, forgotten and then vanished in thin air because there was a common enemy? that, sadly, isn't real. it isn't. years or oppression can't be forgotten so easily, not by the oppressed, for one "glorious" fight. it's lazy. what started as a good depiction of reality turned into an american wet dream of big fights and sad sacrifice scenes and epic love stories that cross any difficulty, and economic and social difference. don't you dare say something against Caitlyn and Vi's ending, they went through all that, they deserve nice things. they do. many other people did. no one cared about them tho.

so.

epic failure. good soundtracks tho.