#can i technically get intellectual rights to this

[soulsxng]

Archetypes quiz | Tarinx edition!

41% Rebel: The Rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind—and bucking the system—if that means getting their point across.

25% Athlete: The Athlete's focus and drive are unparalleled. Staying healthy and being fit are paramount to them (as for winning, that doesn't hurt, either).

24% Explorer: The Explorer is drawn to the unknown, whether that’s a Himalayan peak or the road not taken, and have a thirst for adventure. They take journeys, not vacations.

[emily-escott]

Jedi Master Lene Kostana

I’ll admit, the format of Dooku: Jedi Lost was really hard for me to engage with. Because it reads like a script, it felt to me like all the characters were going 😐 at each other the whole time. I know I probably should have listened to it to get the full effect, but I have a really hard time locking in for audiobooks, even if it’s a whole production ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it’s one of my flaws. But anyway! Lene is so fascinating to me because she really is cut from the same disaster cloth as Yoda’s lineage. Almost every decision she made had me going “why would you do that” or “thats just going to make things worse” but we really do love to watch someone who’s technically not wrong about the fate of the galaxy continuously make questionable choices that harm the ones they care for and undermine their reputation with the Council. It’s an age-old tradition.

Here’s my headcanons for her -

- After getting to know Thame Cerulian through their shared interest in the Sith, she initially viewed him as an irritating, pseudo-intellectual bother. His belief that the Sith could return comes more from a place of (by her estimation) frivolous academic conjecture rather than actionable concern. However, when he’s offered a seat on the High Council, she realizes it could be advantageous to involve him in her research. He is incredibly knowledgeable, and as long as she puts up with him, he can intercept most of the prying questions from the Council. (To be clear, I don’t ship these two - Thame likes guys)

- She watches as Dooku, Sifo, and Jocasta all develop a big stupid crush on each other and goes out of her way to foster whatever that is. She does this largely because she thinks it’s cute, but also to confuse Thame and spite Yoda. Thame isn’t sure why these boys are always hanging out in his apartment, but he doesn’t really mind. Yoda knows exactly what’s going on, but is frankly relieved Dooku even has friends.

- While training Sifo, she quickly learns her words carry a lot of weight and anything she says could potentially end up being extremely impactful to her apprentice. This is advantageous most of the time - Sifo only needs to be told something once for the lesson to stick, and it warms her heart to see him basking in her praise, even over something small. The downside? Lene is horribly foul-mouthed, and Sifo is a sponge.

In terms of visual references, there’s obviously not much to go on. The book basically says she’s purple, she’s got a shaved head, and she has a curl of hair behind her right ear… The lil baby version of her in that one comic I haven’t read at least shows what the species looks like. @ junchan_nyan_art has a couple gorgeous drawings of younger Lene on insta, and @bolithesenate more or less captured how she looks in my mind! idk what the curl of hair behind her left ear is supposed to mean or look like. So I’m giving her a sick faux hawk. idc. I was pretty much happy with her design right off the bat, it just took a few drawings to really nail her features. What do we think, is this something?? I feel so late to the party. She’s been on my to draw list foreverrrrr but I just wasn’t getting around to reading the source material 💀 we’re really in serious blorbo territory now, this ain’t an entry level Star Wars blog anymore, if it ever was

[imsobadatnicknames2]

It's very weird how despite the fact that the current conversation revolves around a legal case/legislation, most people involved in it genuinely seem to miss the law part in copyright law. If you get sued by Disney talking about the beauty of the human soul and artistic expression won't help you. If a company steals your work and uses it in a project there is nothing you can do unless you have money for lawyers, even if in that scenario copyright would technically be in your favour. Like, when you defend the tightening of copyright law you are ultimatelly arguing for the right of companies to bankrupt "small artists" in court cases, no matter who is in the right.

(And that's not even getting into the fact that most artists work for companies and don't own any of the work they make, but whatever)

The weirdass glorification of any variation of The Indomitable Human Spirit™ (but Secular™) in response to the advent of the generative AI industry got people thinking and saying some absolutely ridiculous, incoherent shit that falls apart under the tiniest amount of scrutiny.

Like this comment I just saw on someone else's post that boils down to "the reason why profitting from making art of someone else's intellectual property without their permission is stealing when an AI does it but not when fanartists do it is because AI art has no human involvement"

like sorry bestie what??? there is not a single legal framework under which asserting that a situation involved a "thinking human being" making the decisions makes it Less of a crime instead of More of a crime. This is like a trivial fact to point out about how the law works. But of course that doesn't matter because "human involvement" here is clearly being used as shorthand for The Beauty of the Human Soul™, which these people seem to apparently believe makes any action immune to any ethical or legal objection as long as it's being used as a counterpoint to Soulless AI™

[unsolicited-opinions]

When Judith Butler Forgets How Identity Works

@squeeful replied on this post:

The issue is not in Butler’s work, like the work of the others mentioned, but that people, once supporting someone's work, think they must be right on other issues. Which is their intellectual immaturity, not a problem with the work

No, I actually have huge problems with parts of Butler's work - I'm just not willing to call all of it garbage because I think the concept of performative gender is important.

Butler's "work" on Jews, Jewish identity, Zionism, and Israel is pure @#&$ing excrement:

It's intellectually dishonest, academically anemic, and blatantly contradicts Butler's prior work on identity with a shameless reversal of their own theory for the purpose of condemning Jews who disagree with Butler's own fringe take on Jewish identity.

So let me explain exactly how full of shit Butler is on Jewish anything.

Why "Parting Ways" Parts Ways with Jewish Reality

Judith Butler made their name by challenging the idea that identity is fixed. In Gender Trouble, Butler asked us to think of gender not as a biological destiny, but as a performance - fluid, constructed, always in flux. That core idea reshaped entire fields, from queer theory to feminism to pop culture.

But when it comes to Jewish identity - especially Jewish identity in relation to Israel - Butler suddenly trades nuance for rigidity.

In Parting Ways: Jewishness and the Critique of Zionism, (get your copy here at no charge) they argue that "true" Jewishness is universalist, diasporic, and ethically obligated to oppose the State of Israel.

Butler says that Jews are not just required to critique Israel - but to reject its very legitimacy and existence. According to Butler, Zionism is a betrayal of true Jewish ethics and Zionists are doing Judaism wrong. In short, Butler is saying that if you believe in Israel's right to exist, you're a bad Jew.

That's not just a bold or controversial claim. It's historically, ethically, and logically nonsensical, yet people take Butler seriously on this topic.

Judith Butler isn't an outlier, they're one of the most influential voices shaping how the academic left (and by extension, much of progressive activism) understands Jews - and Butler doesn’t just misrepresent Judaism, Jewishness, and Israel. Butler erases the lived experience of millions of Jews.

Butler's Deliberate Misrepresentation of Judaism and Jewish Ethics

Judith Butler argues that Jewish ethics demand a rejection of nationalism - and therefore, of Zionism. They lean on figures like Levinas, Arendt, and Benjamin to claim that Judaism carries a moral duty to stand with the stateless, the exiled, the outsider.

There's a kernel of truth in that. Jewish tradition does emphasize care for the stranger and caution around power. But turning that into a blanket rejection of Jewish nationalism is a selective reading dressed up as principle. It's like claiming Buddhism forbids self-defense because it values compassion - technically clever, morally incoherent, and contextually blind.

That's how Butler presents their performance of Jewishness, by presenting selected works of selected Jewish thinkers, putting words in their mouths about Jewish national self-determination, then pretending that no other views exist (or are acceptable) within Jewish thought.

Bizarrely, this makes Butler's performance of Jewishness more restrictive, narrow, and intellectually dishonest than literally any I've ever encountered.

Butler preaches "Jewish tradition" like they can define it in a syllabus, telling their class what real Jewishness is.

Contrary to Butler's syllabus, Jewish ethics are much more than Levinas and Arendt. They're also Maimonides, Heschel, Soloveitchik, Spinoza, Buber, not to mention talmud. Jewish ethics is a diverse, often contradictory canon full of arguments about community, power, land, survival, and sovereignty.

Butler not only pretends this vast body of literature doesn't exist, but pretends that texts are the sole source of Jewish identity and ethics.

Jewish ethics and identity don't live in books, but in people. The overwhelming majority of Jews - across denominations, geographies, and politics- regard support for the Jewish state as an expression of their Jewish ethics. Safety after slaughter. Dignity after diaspora. Responsibility after ruin. Never again.

Butler doesn't just critique Israel, Butler claims Israel violates Judaism itself

...as if Judaism were a TED Talk on borderless cosmopolitanism instead of a 3,000-year conversation shaped by exile, return, law, myth, trauma, and survival.

Butler's erasure of Jewish history is antisemitic.

Caricaturing Zionism and Erasing History

Let's define Zionism clearly, since Butler doesn't. Zionism is the belief that the Jewish people - like all peoples - have a right to national self-determination in a portion of their indigenous homeland. That's it.

To hear Butler describe it, Zionism is a colonial project - an unjust seizure of land, an inherently violent ideology, and a corruption of Jewish values.

If you know Jewish history, that reading collapses immediately, and that's no accident. Butler relies on the reader being ignorant of that history.

Jews are indigenous to the Land of Israel. Our liturgy, language, and law all trace back to it. The diaspora happened because we were violently expelled from our homeland, not because we left voluntarily. When the modern Zionist movement emerged in the 19th century, it did so in response to relentless persecution - not a craving for empire.

Butler erases that history. There’s no mention of the pogroms that shaped early modern Zionist thought. There's no engagement with the Holocaust survivors who built Israel's institutions. There's no space for Mizrahi Jews who fled state-sponsored antisemitism across the Middle East and found refuge in Israel. There's no acknowledgment that the Jewish return wasn't a settler-colonial endeavor, but a survival imperative. It was, as Haviv Retiig Gur puts it, a refugee and rescue operation.

Butler only permits Israel to be seen through the lens of power - ignoring that it was born in weakness, under siege, and remains the only country in the world whose existence is regularly debated on moral terms.

Erasing Arab Agency, Legitimizing Terrorism

When discussing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Butler never confronts the fact that Hamas - a genocidal, explicitly antisemitic organization - governs Gaza. There's no mention of how many peace offers Israel has made. There's no mention of how Israelis (of all religion and ethnicities) live with the trauma of intifadas, bombings, kidnappings, and rockets.

In fact, Butler has worked hard to legitimize Hamas.

For Butler, Israel is a villain by default - and Zionism becomes a heresy against Judaism.

That's not analysis. That's dogma. And it isn't even Jewish dogma.

The Identity Double Standard

Here's where Butler's nose is crammed most thoroughly up their own posterior.

Judith Butler has spent decades showing how identity categories are socially constructed, context-dependent, and always in motion. Gender, in Butler’s framework, is not what you are, but what you do - and how others interpret it. Right?

But when it comes to Jewish identity, Butler flips the script.

Suddenly, Jewishness is a fixed thing - and only Jews who perform it in a particular, Butler-approved, anti-Zionist way are doing it "right." Everyone else, 90% of Jews, are heretics and apostates.

Jewishness, in Butler's view, is historically and ethically defined by its diasporic condition, which entails living among non-Jews. This means that "the Jew can never be fully separated from the question of how to live among those who are not Jewish."

Despite arguing that they're claiming to be using Jewish ethics to make a Jewish case against Jewish national self-determination...this argument hinges partly on Edward Said, partly on falsehoods, and partly on pure bullshit:

It came as a surprise to me, and also a gift, to read one of Edward Said’s last books, Freud and the Non-European, not only because of the lively reengagement with the figure of Moses it contains, but because Moses becomes for him an opportunity to articulate two theses that are, in my view, worth considering. The first is that Moses, an Egyptian, is the founder of the Jewish people, which means that Judaism is not possible without this defining implication in what is Arab. Such a formulation challenges hegemonic Ashkenazi definitions of Jewishness. But it also implies a more diasporic origin for Judaism, which suggests that a fundamental status is accorded the condition by which the Jew cannot be defined without a relation to the non-Jew. It is not only that, in diaspora, Jews must and do live with non-Jews,and must reflect on how precisely to conduct a life in the midst of religious and cultural heterogeneity, but also that the Jew can never be fully separated from the question of how to live among those who are not Jewish. The figure of Moses, however, makes an even more emphatic point, namely, that, for some, Jew and Arab are not finally separable categories, since they are lived and embodied together in the life of the Arab Jew.

Just to scratch the surface of Butler's bullshitting here (please add more in the replies!):

Moses, in Exodus, is not by any stretch of the imagination Egyptian.

The Egyptians of that era were not Arabs.

If Jewish identity is dependent on relation to Arabs, how did Jews define themselves for thousands of years before the Arab conquest reached the Levant in ~630 CE?

The only Ashkenazim I'm aware of who sought hegemonic definitions of Jewishness were the antizionist Bundists like Butler.

The assertion that seeing Moses as Egyptian says something about Ashkenazic conceptions of Jewishness is such a non-sequitur that it boggles the mind how an editor approved this being published.

Falsely asserting that the Moses of Exodus was Egyptian does not in any way imply a "more diasporic origin of Judaism", even if we took it to be true...which it isn't.

Butler actually asserts, despite scriptural, archeological, textual, historical, and anthropological evidence, that there were no non-Jews living among or near the Jews of ancient Israel. If this assertion was honest, we'd be appalled by the depth of her ignorance of Exodus and history.

And that's what's most infuriating about it: it's clearly, knowingly dishonest.

Butler is completely full of shit and making an argument they know damn well is intellectually dishonest and unsupportable. Butler started this book from a conclusion that Zionism is evil and worked backwards to find Jewish sources to distort into supporting that view, erasing and distorting 3,000 years of history, practice and belief. This book is one of the most shameful pieces of bullshittery I've ever seen.

We haven't even gotten to Butler's most and hypocritical, self-contradicting rhetoric.

If you're a Jew who believes in the dignity of diaspora, Butler says you're authentic.

If you're a Jew who believes in the dignity of sovereignty? Butler says you're morally suspect.

This is a total betrayal of the intellectual commitments on which Butler's career was built.

You can't defend gender self-determination, nuance, and fluidity while denying Jews the right to define their own individual and collective identity.

You can't champion multiplicity for everyone else and then enforce ideological purity tests on Jews.

You can't build a theory of liberation that demands Jews stay stateless.

Butler's issue isn't really one of Jewish identity. Butler's problem is with Jewish agency.

Why This Matters

This isn't just a philosophical dispute.

Butler's framework from this piece of shit book has spread far beyond the academy. It shows up in campus politics, activist circles, and social media discourse where Jews who support Israel - even critically - are cast as oppressors, collaborators, or frauds. Butler provides the justification.

It shapes a generation of progressives who have been taught that antizionism is the ethical Jewish position and that Jews who disagree are colonialist oppressors. It turns lived Jewish identity into a problem Butler solved by rehashing pieces of Bundism and Soviet antisemitism - but the Jews are a people to be understood and enfranchised as other peoples are: in all their complexity, fluidity, and nuance.

Butler creates moral cover for antisemitism. When an LGBTQ+ Jewish student is told they're "white" and "colonial" for supporting Israel's existence, that’s Butler's legacy at work. When a progressive space demands Jews check their Zionism at the door, that's Parting Ways in action.

We can - and should - critique Israeli policy.

Butler isn’t offering critique - Butler is offering disqualification, an eliminationist perspective which is nakedly antisemitic on it's face.

That's not justice. That's erasure.

Parting Thoughts on Parting Ways

I'm a Jew. I come from a community that has survived exile, pogroms, ethnic cleansings, the Holocaust, and 2,000 years of statelessness. Zionism is not a political ideology to me or the vast majority of the world's Jews who identify as Zionists. It's a lifeline.

It's the belief that Jews - like all peoples - deserve to exist, to belong, to build, to falter, to argue, and to thrive in a place of our own, the place which birthed our civilization.

I don't need Judith Butler to validate that - but I do need to call out the intellectual dishonesty of a conveniently inconsistent theory that makes room for every identity - except that of Jews.

The moment Jews demand dignity on our own terms, as Butler says other people should demand dignity on theirs, Butler parts ways.

I'm not discarding everything Butler has written or said (I haven't read everything they wrote), but every bit of their "work" on Jewish identity is excrement which deserves contempt and derision. It is bad faith, sloppy, pseudo-intellectual polemics of the very worst sort.

Butler is performing an inauthentic, fringe sort of Jewishness in order to insist that the 90% of the world's Jews who don't share Butler's view that Israel must he destroyed...aren't truly Jewish.

This is immediately discernable as bullshit to any Jew who knows anything about their own heritage.

Further Reading:

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hey!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. A prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to imply that a character is two-faced but mostly just signals that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that. I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different. A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here) - maybe it will give you some ideas.

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way. A fav of mine.) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor. I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed.

[7ndipity]

Why They’re Still Single

Ot7

Summary: why I think the members are still single and when/if I think they’ll actually settle down

Warnings: swearing 

A/N: This is pure crack that was conjured up by me and @bethanysnow ‘s brains at like 3am, so don’t take it too seriously, lol.

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: He's a romantic in theory, but in practice he’s really just not that comfortable with all the dynamics of relationships(lowkey gives asexual vibes imo) I could see him eventually marrying his assistant or one of his friends when they’re both in their 40s because they’re who they’re most comfortable with, and that’s what he values most in a relationship, comfort and friendship.

Yoongi: Boy has trust issues out the wazoo. He has a hard time believing anyone would actually want him, rather than what he can do for them. He also has an over tendency to intellectualize his feelings. If he learns how to properly process his emotions and finds someone who encourages him to actually communicate his needs, I could see him getting married pretty quickly.

Hobi: He spent so much of his twenties convincing himself and everyone else that he was way too busy for a relationship, but since he’s come back from military service, he’s fully embraced his fuckboy era. He could have girlfriends in multiple cities, but everyone’s on the same page and knows it’s non committal. I see him settling down eventually, but right now he’s just enjoying living his life.

Namjoon: Man has a textbook case of fear of commitment. He’s always been so drawn to domestic married life, but the reality of letting down his walls and actually letting someone in scares the shit out of him, so the majority of his relationships have fallen apart due to lack of communication and trust. I still see him getting married and having kids eventually, he just needs to find a good therapist first.

Jimin: He’s actually the member that’s secretly married and hosts monthly dinner parties at his house for everyone else and their partners. Fr tho, I think he has a highly idealized vision of what he thinks a relationship should be, and he refuses to settle for anything less, even though his vision might be slightly unrealistic. In the meantime, I think he’s content on his own for the time being, dreaming of the perfect partner.

Taehyung: The thing with Tae is that he is in love with the concept of love, but he also loves a tragic romance. He enjoys the drama and angst of yearning and longing for someone, or the tragic beauty of the relationship that he knows must inevitably end, like a summer fling or right person - wrong time. He’s also lowkey under the impression that no one will fully understand him, but if he can find that person who matches his energy, he will fall fast and hard.

Jungkook: Kook still sees himself as in his fuckboy era, but the truth of the matter is that he is a whole ass house husband, he just doesn’t want to admit it yet. He could be in a fully committed relationship, practically living together, but still refuse to put a technical title on what they have because it’s less scary that way. Despite that, he loves playing the protective boyfriend(ain’t nobody fucking with his baby), and I think that’s what will eventually get him to own up and fully commit to the relationship.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er

[fulcrums501st]

I really love how in severance everyone has a different opinion on severance and are for or against it for very different reasons. in s1 we see tons of anti-Lumon and anti-severance protestors who are super concerned with the human rights of innies. but they’re also kind of ignorant to other aspects of severance. and we see how they piss off Mark cuz they don’t understand why someone might want a severed job. we see how at Ricken’s weird dinner party severance is a taboo topic and all his intellectual friends are kinda quick to judge Mark about it. meanwhile Devon is also against it but because she thinks severing yourself is just an objectively bad way to cope with the loss of someone. there’s Feild’s whole belief that innies are different souls, and can serve as kind of a do-over for a sinner to try and get to heaven. and we get hints of wider severance politics. and we see outtie Dylan’s struggle with job discrimination. cuz if you’re severed your outtie technically doesn’t have any recent job experience.

the innies also all have different views of severance and how it relates to their identity. Helly is determined to be perceived as a fully separate identity from her outtie. Meanwhile Dylan sees his outtie’s family as his. Irving thinks there’s some overlap which is why he’s so devastated by Burt being married and is pissed at Mark S for fraternizing with Helly knowing he has a wife. Mark S’ own views change throughout the season as feeling like he has some obligation to his outtie, to then fully embracing his own autonomy. and all this is contrasting Lumon’s propaganda which says that innies are a part of the Lumon family but at the same time aren’t people. and even within Lumon the way the higher ups vs people like Milchick talk about severed people varies (tho they still don’t treat them as individuals with autonomy).

I just like how it’s never as simple as this group all shares this worldview vs the other that entirely shares the exact opposite worldview.

[cupidkenji]

Gnaw

Now Playing: Gnaw - Alex G everything I knew was looking just as it should Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!reader CW: smut, oral (r receiving), choking but not in a freaky way he literally chokes reader to get them unconscious (no somno), kidnapping kind of (he takes them back to their house), knifeplay 💀, restraints being used (reader's wrists are tied), noncon technically but again mentally reader is into it, toxic ex bf, he's really whipped tho, minor bloodplay, undertones of sadism, lokey father figure vibes from Nam gyu (i'm so sorry), probably kind of OOC, university AU Summary: After that night, you ran. You should know by now you can never get far from him. Disclaimer: Reader is always thought of to be chubby/bigger when writing but I do my best to not physically describe reader at all with stuff like skin tone or body type. Anyone can read this as reader is not depicted but if there's a slip up please let me know. <3 WC: 3.7k (again) this is a part 2! read part 1 here.

the worms are eating away at my brain i am going crazy. please for this story just imagine you have one of those bed frames that are individual bars w space in between them instead of like one solid thing. also i really need to start writing these earlier in the day so i have the energy to proof read them. i'm sorry for my sins have mercy on me.

The sunlight seared through a pair of shitty motel curtains, attempting to penetrate your shut eyelids. It was the sixth day you were waking up in a scratchy bed on the run down side of your already dirty town. It was the sixth day you would spend missing him. 

You knew it was wrong, immoral to even think of returning to the man who had done such a thing. Who was clearly at a place in his life where he could do such a thing. Even through all the intellectualizing of his actions, the pleading you did with yourself to be disgusted, you weren’t. You knew it the second he cleaned you up and went to sleep, and it was terrifying, so you ran. As soon as you were sober, you ran to the only sanctuary you could afford as a college student who was also renting an apartment and a vehicle. You had already overstayed your welcome, knowing that the six days would cost you more than you wanted to shell out. You didn’t know how long you planned to be gone, originally fleeing the scene to be able to think. It was only proving more difficult as the days ticked on. You’d come all the way out here to talk yourself into hating him, only to carve out an even bigger space within yourself that he was to occupy. You missed him. The more you thought about it, the more apparent it became, and that just pushed you to stay longer. To wait out the bruising feeling eating at you the more you forced yourself away. 

You skipped class, not daring to step foot on campus lest he be waiting for her. The thought made your head fizz, a horrified and excited feeling mingling as they wrapped around the nerves in your stomach. Just the possibility of seeing him overwhelmed you, but you were simultaneously sick from the distance. You were sick of your surroundings, too. The walls were gray and stained, and you feared the hygiene status of the bed you were sleeping in. You hadn’t had much time to pack when you’d left, grabbing miscellaneous clothing that had yet to be put away and shoving it in a backpack. You hadn’t brought a blanket or a pillow, something you regretted. The suffocating nature of the beige room prompted the nightly walks you’d been taking. It was a bearable temperature, and the full perimeter of the building provided a decent amount of ground to cover. You hadn’t grabbed a charger, leaving your phone dead and you bored. Without any artificial stimulation to occupy your head, you took notice of the normally unnoticeable aspects of such a place. There were bits of a wired fence on the right side of the parking lot, the few lamps that lit the outside up had security cameras on them that didn’t work. You couldn't sleep one night, so you’d gone to look at them, finding that when the cords reached the end of the pole, they’d been haphazardly cut. It looked rushed and frayed, like a child had done it with safety scissors. It was deceiving, truly. There was no safety in an already dim parking lot. 

On tonight’s walk, you mulled over the date you’d return by. You still needed to graduate, and realistically, you couldn’t avoid your life forever. You were getting progressively more tired, sleeping less each night you stayed, missing the comfort of your own bed. The ground was uneven and cracked under your shoes, reminding you of the gray, crumbling building you were supposed to retrieve your roommate from. Reminding you of him, how stupid all of this was. There was a familiar smell in the air as you rounded a corner, nearly back to your room. It was distinct, heady and musky, as if you were back on that street and looking up at the flowing smoke again. You did your usual observation of the desolate asphalt full of empty parking spots.

And what the fuck were the odds?

He was already looking at you, the end of his cigarette glowing orange as he took a drag, like a sniper taking aim. He was a mere silhouette being poorly lit up by a streetlight that barely worked, but you knew. It was this feeling of magnetism, the same way he knew exactly who he was looking at, you felt the world around you melt, the air around you became irrelevant as your eyes locked on him. There was another man there, leaning against the hood of his car with Nam gyu right next to him, taking no notice of you as he spoke. You couldn’t make out his words with how far away you were. The man you’d been avoiding making little sounds of acknowledgement while being completely trained on you, posture relaxed and comfortable. He found you.

His friend nudged him, mumbling something and standing up. The both of them walked back into what was presumably the man’s room after snuffing out what they were smoking. You didn’t even register your legs beelining for your room. You threw whatever you had into the backpack you’d brought. You needed to get the fuck out of here. It was an unfathomably cruel move from whatever higher power was in charge of this situation. The two of you were being forced together like sand and water. He was everywhere, no matter where you were he would inevitably catch up. Maybe it took him three months the first time, but clearly he was done waiting. You rushed the check out process, not knowing how long his friend would keep him occupied now that he knew you were here. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. The thought made your stomach twist, but still, you needed to go. Your car seemed like an endless walk from the front doors, parked in the corner closest to your room, dark and unsuspecting. In such an empty place, you didn’t want your car to sit illuminated, as if advertised. This motel had a reputation, and you wanted to keep your means of travel safe. 

Your hands shook slightly as you hit the unlock button on your keys, yanking the handle to the backseat and throwing your bag somewhere in the back. It was just clothes, you didn’t care if it rolled around or hit the floor during the commute to wherever you were going, you just cared about getting out. The slam of the back door shutting seemed louder than what was appropriate for such a bone-deep silence for this time of night. Opening the driver’s side, you barely had enough room to squeeze through before it was being shoved closed from behind you. On impulse, you tried to turn around, startled and drowning in adrenaline; but before you could, the crook of his right arm encompassed your neck, tightening like a snake who was readying the prey for consumption. Your hands shot up, grasping his forearm with a futile grip, as if you could will his arm away from you. The pressure on your windpipe was bleeding black into the edges of your sight, static mingling with your hearing as your head got lighter. You could hear quiet shushes and reassurances coming from the man behind you, as though talking a child back into sleep after a nightmare. You dug your nails into the fabric of his sweatshirt as a weak sob barreled out of your mouth. He only pushed a little harder, pulling you into him. The proximity comforted you despite his actions, and you used the last little bit of energy you had to condemn yourself, body going limp against him after the last internal inquiry of what the fuck was wrong with you. He had also noticed the camera situation, knowing that his actions would go undocumented in the empty little place. He walked you over the passenger seat, hauling you in and buckling you up like a kid in a car seat. He started the route to your house, it was a Friday, your roommate would surely be out. He knew she was barely ever at the house, after staying there on and off for two years, he thinks he could probably count how many times he saw her sleep there on one hand. It wasn’t a long drive, twenty minutes or so, and you’d be home.

–

The normally disarming lamplight of your bedroom reeled in your consciousness from the void it had been thrown to. It didn’t feel particularly calming - not now. Your head was on your pillow, a focused Nam gyu diligently knotting a rope around your wrists, bundling them together and lacing the restraint through your headboard. Your neck felt bruised, sore and pulsing with a light pain as the blood rushed to your head. Your legs tensed on instinct, noticing the motion was not detained. He hadn’t tied your legs. You tugged once at the rope, testing the endurance just as much as you were testing your own strength. Your muscles felt nearly atrophied, the action making an ache ricochet through the oxygen-depleted muscles. Your whole body felt tired, heavy. Your exhale was shaky, slowly deflating from your lungs as if your body was made of stone. 

“Oh, good.” He double checked the knot, tugging once to solidify it’s hold on you before standing up to look down on you. “I didn’t know how long you’d be out.” He sounded so casual, as if instead of choking you unconscious and dragging you home, he’d simply carried you in from the car after you’d fallen asleep in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and gravelly, like your throat was coated in sand. Your lip trembled at the feeling of being so close to him. God, you were like a fucking puppy; can’t even be away from him for a week without turning into a weird sentimental puddle upon seeing him again. “Please untie me.” Your eyes watered as you spoke. You’d barely been awake five minutes and you were on the brink of tears. Pathetic. 

His eyes flicked over your face at the sight of your eyes welling up, a little glint of something familiar sparking in them for just a moment. “I can’t.” He shrugged, imitating disappointment at the notion. “You keep running from me. How are we supposed to resolve this if you can’t even keep still?”

Resolve this. Your eyes closed at the words, attempting to stop the tears from spilling at the thought. You’d left him for a reason. It was repeated over and over in your head like a mantra. You had to stick to it even if you couldn’t remember what the desire to be away from him felt like. Even as your chest heaved slightly with panic, you hoped he wouldn’t move. You hoped he would keep talking just so you could hear his voice, be near him. It wasn’t a rational wish by any means, but you could feel the intensity of it in your fucking bones with how consuming it was. 

“I’m not a patient man, honey. I waited for so fucking long.” He leaned over your dormant frame, putting one knee on the bed and moving his other to mirror the motion, effectively pinning your hips down under his weight. “You know, it wasn’t even your roommate who wanted you there. She just left her phone unlocked, and I knew you’d show up if she asked.”

“What-” Your words halted in your throat as he drew a pocket knife from the pocket of his sweatshirt. Jesus.  “Please - you don’t understand-” 

“Relax.” The word was chuckled slightly as he cut you off, like the panic that shot through your eyes at the sight of the blade in his hands was unjustified, like you were being irrational. “I think I was too selfish that night, hm?” The look he was giving you felt like it could kill you if he really wanted it to. Intense and suffocating, full of excitement and devotion. “You clearly hadn’t been touched in months and I got ahead of myself.” He shook his head slightly as his eyes looked over you, your chest was moving quick and shallow as you breathed, stomach tensing as he lifted your shirt up just an inch, caressing the skin above the waistband with his thumb. It barely even seemed intentional, as if his hands subconsciously drew themselves to you, needed to be touching you. 

Any urge you had to respond kept dying before it could be expelled. What do you even say to a situation like this? He was so at ease, explaining himself like a truly remorseful lover would. To anyone who didn’t know his inflection, that’s where it would end;  but you were so in tune with him, you could hear the edge of entertainment that his words carried. Maybe he was sorry, maybe he just liked seeing you unsure.

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” Your breath stumbled as he said it, your wrists grating unconsciously against the confines. “But it hurt my feelings when you ran like that.” He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, emphasizing his words. “So I’m gonna hurt you a little, too.” You felt the point of the blade make contact with the skin that his thumb had been smoothing over minutes before. It was enough to make the first tear fall from the corner of your eye. There was no pressure, just the threat of his words ringing true. Even in this scenario out of most peoples’ nightmares, you still didn’t think he’d truly hurt you, not irreparably. He’d always had sadistic tendencies, you even sometimes - shamefully - thought about the potential that was undoubtedly lurking beneath the surface of his presentability. He could get mean sometimes, especially when he was high, but never like this. He was sober, you could see it in his eyes and the way he moved. He just wanted to do this, wanted to be in control. 

He could practically feel the mesh of emotion seeping from your veins, taking longer than necessary to talk just to watch you soak in it. “Just enough to teach you some manners, honey.” His thumb trailed a line of pure heat along your jaw. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably even like it, knowing you.” 

A weird feeling jolted through the active nerves in your stomach. It was such a direct callout, based in certainty that he carried in his voice. You felt caught, recalling all the times he most likely knew exactly what you were thinking. Another tear streamed down the side of your face. 

The steel in his hand glistened in the low light of your bedroom, the sharpness of it being dragged down the fabric of your shirt, severing the only semblance of modesty you had left; the material draping open and bearing your skin to him. You’d been practically ready for bed by the time you took your walk, foregoing any additional coverage underneath the shirt, leaving all of you vulnerable to the exploration of his eyes. He pushed the sagging cloth to hang more off your shoulders, grazing his hands over the naked parts of you. It was gentle, restrained, like he couldn’t bear the time it would take to touch all of you because he needed it that badly. 

You felt the sting of an opening wound a second later, a whimper barely fleeing your throat. It wasn’t deep, he didn’t push hard. His lips parted as the blood rose to the surface of the small cut, pooling within it and releasing a single drop to pour down the side of your stomach. Before it could gain traction, he smeared the runny crimson, letting the liquid coat the print of his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight, his breath coming out shakier than he’d like as his blood seemed to thrum in his veins. 

Your face twisted at the feeling, molten lava pooling in your stomach and burning you from the inside out. You felt hot, immune responses and arousal both running rampant in your body. You’d never felt more awake. He lowered his head to your exposed collarbone, brutally reminiscent of the night that predated this one. “See? Not so bad.” He led his hand up to your mouth, palm skimming your side as he hovered his thumb above your sealed lips, muttering out a request to open your mouth for me and you did because he was inexplicably intoxicating. Your tongue was coated in bitter metal combining with the discreet and slight flavor of his skin. You felt dizzy. 

He mouthed down the expanse of your upper body, leaving patches of your skin shiny with his saliva and stinging from the occasional love bite he would leave. He marked his places of affection with small cuts, each one sending a wave of warmth lower and lower, fanning the flames down to where he would ultimately end up. He would kiss over each future scar he left on you, a bloody comparison to your relationship as a whole, his actions making your heart ache and your back arch. You had been trying your hardest to stay quiet, trembling exhales being the only thing you couldn’t suppress; but he had a way of wearing you down in the most pleasurable ways imaginable, gradually building you up to the whimpers that were slipping past your crumbling resolve. 

With caring hands, he pulled at the waistband of your pants, folding them out from under your hips and bending each of your legs forward to get them fully off of your legs, laying them back down once he had. The room felt colder than it ever had. He stared with pride at the state of your perpetually clenched thighs, groping at the tense muscles. “What’d I tell you, huh?” He tucked the blade of the knife under the seam of your underwear, pulling up and slicing clean through them. “I don’t know why you want out when you like it so much.” Cutting the other seam, he let the fabric slide off of you, discarding the shreds of useless hindrance and taking in the full sight of you. 

You didn’t know why you ran either. You did like it. You liked it so fucking much that it scared you. Maybe it was a fear of feeling good, or a fear of what this kind of connection would inevitably do to you, what kind of a man he was. You’d tried to leave him and ended up panting, wet skin glistening and covered in gashes; and the worst part was you liked it. How the fuck could you like something like this?

He left various other claims of territory on your thighs. Teeth marks, nicks from the knife, worshipping kisses of a man in love. Everything action committed against your wanting flesh had so much emotion laced in it that you could barely take it. You were overwhelmed, your brain half shut down, only stopping itself from going dark because then you wouldn’t be able to feel him, to accept what he was giving you. 

He pushed your thighs out of their locked state, soothing over the irritation littered on them with his thumbs and his lips, dulling the sting with an even greater ache that was bleeding directly into the center of you. You felt like he’d lit you on fire. 

The tip of his index finger scorched a line up the place you’d been anticipating, shamelessly gliding in copious arousal that had been pooling since you saw him leaning on the hood of that car. It was a touch that seemed to pump life back into you, invigorating and familiar. Something you missed so much that you were sure you’d never be able to fathom the depth of it. He cursed, quiet and breathy; and you groaned at the feeling of friction, even if it was just a little. 

His mouth on you was sudden, but not rushed; the spontaneity of it forcing a gasp from you. His actions were calculated, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you open, malleable and pinned. His hands were tense on your legs, fingers digging in tight as if he was struggling with his own internal grievances. You weren’t sure if it was restraint, or desperation, or something uncharted between the two of you. It was scary to think that something could be undefined right now, that maybe he was lost too. 

The warmth of his mouth on you after already having your body thoroughly overworked nearly knocked you unconscious for the second time that night. Your head was as thrown back as it could be given the state of your arms, chest reaching for the ceiling. Your poor wrists burned in the grit of the rope, but it only seemed to add to the peak you were being pushed to. He brought his index finger to sweep through the bountiful wetness in between your legs, this time pushing in and curling up, his second finger joining soon after. 

“Gyu - please -” The nickname was so domestic, something that hadn’t left your lips in months but seemed to feel as natural as breathing in this moment. The loving tone hit him like a wave, drawing a reflexive groan from his mouth. His eyes were practically black from how much his pupils encompassed the iris, his own eyes looking a little watery as a less extreme mimic of yours.

“Missed the way you taste.” The auditory affirmation paired with his fingers and his mouth sent you toppling. His fingers never let up, his mouth detaching to plant light kisses on the bone of your hip, looking up at your breathtaking form with an awestruck gaze that you couldn’t see through your closed eyes and tilted back head. 

You panted, thinking it was over. Maybe he’d fuck you, or maybe he would make you tea and the two of you would finally talk about things. He just moved his soaking fingers up to your clit, your body jumping slightly at the sensitivity. 

“Wait-” 

“Shh, just take it.” He spoke low and moved back to where he was, starting again when you had barely started coming down. His declaration of making it up to you rung in your ears. How long was long enough to be considered even? You writhed with overstimulation as you thought about it. Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An hour? Your second orgasm hit you hard in the middle of your useless inquiries, and you realize it didn’t really matter.

You were in for a long fucking night regardless.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃❮𓁿❯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

tags: @mitsxuri @citarnosis @namgyunation (tagging you lovely folks because you all mentioned wanting more content. please let me know if you want your @ removed and i will do it ASAP <3)

[metamorphesque]

I don't know how unpopular this opinion is but I strongly hold the position that society today seems unable to differentiate "Art" from entertainment, and this blurring of lines harms both. _ what do you mean?

What I mean to say is that society nowadays fails to recognize the fundamental differences between art and entertainment. Thinking that they are the same or interchangeable does a disservice to both. To me, it's not an "art vs. entertainment" situation. Rather than opposing them, the distinction lies in recognizing their complementary roles because a healthy individual needs both art and entertainment, but for very different reasons.

Entertainment, of course, entertains us; it delights and validates us by affirming our existing beliefs and emotions. It's there to make us feel good — a safe space that doesn't challenge us, as it has been created specifically for our needs and is catering to our preferences. However, it leaves us unchanged and not transformed. Entertainment is produced because there is a public demand for it.

Art, on the other hand, is meant to change and transform us. It's not always delightful, entertaining or self-affirming. On the contrary, it can sometimes feel like an attack on our beliefs and the reality we think we’re living in. Art can be uncomfortable, even disruptive, and by being so, it forces us to engage with it on a deeper level, challenging our perspectives and encouraging us to evolve. Unlike entertainment, art is not made because there is public demand for it. To be more precise, the demand for art exists, but it doesn't come from us — the public; art meets the demands of the time. Real artists are those who can discern the lessons and demands of the time and make them digestible for the public. While entertainment caters to an audience’s desires, art challenges its audience, often presenting ideas or emotions they may not have asked for but need to confront. It’s not about pleasing or fulfilling expectations; instead, art serves as a catalyst for intellectual and emotional growth, pushing society to reflect, adapt and progress.

My beloved Armenian poet Paruyr Sevak has a very thought-provoking piece that, I think, is about real artists. I'll present a rough translation: "They come unoften, yet never too late. / They are born at exactly the right time. / And they get ahead of time itself, / Which is why they are not forgiven".

The role of a true artist goes far beyond technical skill or the ability to produce aesthetically pleasing works that will be liked by many and, thus, make a fortune. A true artist serves as a visionary, a truth-teller and a catalyst for change. They push us to reflect deeply and think critically about the world around us. This is why, in the absence of such people (and I strongly believe that we live in such times), individuals become more susceptible to propaganda, manipulation or conformity, as there are fewer voices prompting them to critically examine their environment. Additionally, without these voices, society loses touch with its emotional depth, becoming more disconnected, indifferent and apathetic to the suffering or experiences of others.

True artists are what we need today. There are many discussions held online about whether today’s celebrities should address "political" issues and the problems we face as humans.

My answer to this is no, at least not for everyone that society considers an "artist." Most of these individuals are mere entertainers who are there solely for entertainment purposes (I would be quick to add that some of them even fail at that). Dozens of them can't even form comprehensive sentences in their mother tongues; how can we expect them to express trustworthy opinions on grave issues? This is one of the reasons why it is highly dangerous to confuse entertainment with art.

[avelera]

To add onto your point about Viktor pushing people away I think this is shown a lot through his interactions with Sky. When they first meet as kids she clearly takes interest and wants to talk but he looks down to gesture to his boat when she is called away. He believes that it is his destiny to be lonely. Shortly after when meeting Singed, Singed asks “why aren’t you playing with the other kids,” and Viktor steps out from behind a rock to show him his leg. Singed’s response is a double edged sword because he says that “loneliness is often a byproduct of a gifted mind,” on one hand he is calling Viktor intelligent and implying that his disability isn’t what makes him lonely, however Singed still essentially reinforces the idea that Viktor is inherently going to be lonely because of his mind.

Later (in life, technically it’s earlier in the show) she flirts with him and he surprisingly refers to her by her last name only despite knowing each other for so long. This act pushes her away, especially at a time when he probably did need to ask for help as he had just coughed up blood earlier in the episode and passes out not long after she leaves. While I do not think he harbors any romantic feelings for Sky both the way she shows interest with him as a kid and as an adult proves Singed wrong. She doesn’t find his intelligence isolating, she admires him for it and wants to get closer but Viktor has put up a wall because he’s already internalized that loneliness is a byproduct of his existence.

She also does not even hesitate to try pull him off the hexcore when she has no idea what it is.

Viktor is often shown with themes of loneliness but it is contrasted with the fact that he is constantly around people that would move heaven and earth for him if he asked. This really shows that the internalized loneliness that makes him push people away and refuse to be selfish is also tragic because he and Singed are wrong. He does face a more difficult time being a disabled zaunite in Piltover for sure, but pushing out those who wish to be close is a fate he curated himself since he believes it’s how it has to be.

I think you said it very well!

One thing I love about having the full Arcane story with S2 is that we can really dig deep and analyze who these characters are now.

I'd argue Viktor came across as pretty... flaw-free in S1. He's still complex, but most of the problems he faces seem to come from issues outside his control, like his disability and his terminal illness.

I think S2 brought into focus what Viktor's flaws are, including his intellectual tunnel vision and, as you noted, his tendency to think himself lonely when he is the one constantly pushing people away, perhaps as a result of that awful line Singed fed him when he was a kid. (Silco and Singed are both great examples of damaged adults trying to help the children in their life, teaching them the lessons they learned, but in so doing scarring those children with their own issues and pain because their situations actually aren't parallels.)

So much of what Viktor does in S2 revolves around loneliness. Normally, I think such loneliness plots would be about someone finding love for the first time, or learning to love themselves despite it. But the strength and quality of Viktor's loneliness story, what I think brings it closer to a more realistic story, is that it takes two to tango. He's projecting rejection onto others like Jayce that isn't there. He's thinking he needs to isolate himself and even as a child to play alone, even though Sky was right there taking an interest. He was just too obsessed with his work (admittedly, work that would save him from a terminal illness so like, I feel him on this) to see that he was letting the life he had pass him by, or that there were people trying to help him, who were actively helping him if he just looked around.

He does it in 2.02 to Jayce too, by the way. Regardless of Hexcore influence, he chooses "the Mission" of securing a legacy over the friend who is right here beside him, offering help, who has come back to Viktor after Viktor chastised him for leaving his side. Jayce listened and he's back now, but Viktor is now so consumed by guilt of the other person he ignored that he's missing the loved one he's ignoring right now.

Viktor then builds this commune of people that sure as hell looks like a wall he's building against loneliness. He speaks with their voices, they are of one mind, they share their emotions, and yet Viktor still self-isolates there, spending his time with the hallucination of Sky, set apart from the other cultists in his giant bubble on the hill, making them look up to him like angels singing praises to God. And that too is lonely. It's not true connection. And by making everyone into One, it's still loneliness, it's still his old patterns. Combining everyone into one person with one will so they can never leave you (no one is ever shown leaving the commune, btw, all foot traffic flows inward) still ends up with him alone in the homogenous soup of everyone he turned into him.

Wizard Viktor is another example of this behavior, the ultimate conclusion of it, why he needs Jayce to get through to him. Only Jayce can show Viktor that his loneliness is in his own head, it's a product of his own behavior, he is pushing people away and ignoring them and then being upset when they're not there, and then when they come back he pushes them away again in favor of "the mission" in favor of "legacy", and even if it's in favor of finding a cure for himself, he pushes away people who are trying to help him with that. And he doesn't let Jayce in on the fact he's dying which is another example of not letting people who love him help him with his most important mission of saving his own life.

This is getting way too long lol but ok:

TL;DR One of Viktor's flaws is self-imposed loneliness that still makes him lash out at others and ultimately leads to some of his most heinous crimes like the assimilation of the cultists and attempt to make everyone into One Being, which is still the same behavior of self isolation, and that's why only Jayce can get through to him that he was loved the whole time and he's only lonely because he keeps ignoring his loved ones and pushing them away.

[dioslesbianwife]

Hello, I love reading everything on your blog and was wondering if I could get the Bucciarati gang with a reader whose stand name is " Illusionary Heart " with her ability being able to create an invisible field that allows her track and manipulate her enemies making her the strategist Bucciarati gang.

hi, ty! and sure, i hope u enjoy and thank you for requesting <33

Giorno

He’s instantly impressed- you think in patterns, probabilities, and traps, which pairs beautifully with his own calculating nature.

You’ll be deep in a strategy meeting and Giorno will lowkey get this shiver watching you calmly explain an ambush plan, like:

“Set the trap here. He’ll step on it within four seconds, then I’ll destabilize him. Mista, you shoot at his lower limbs.”

He’s like ...Her mind is terrifying.

Loves sparring with you in private just to see how you think. Tries to out-plan you and never wins.

“Your heart guides ours,” he once whispered, holding your hand after a mission. “And I trust it.”

Bucciarati

TRUSTS YOU WITH HIS LIFE. Literally treats your word like gospel when it comes to battlefield decisions.

The way your Stand works reminds him of a heartbeat in the chest of Passione- it ties the whole crew together.

You once manipulated an enemy mid-fight to stumble into his zipper trap and he called it “divine coordination.”

He’s constantly defending you when rival Stand users call your ability “creepy” or “indirect”- he knows better. He’s seen you change the whole flow of fights.

“You’re the pulse that keeps us alive,” he told you once.

Fugo

You two are brainstorming buddies.

You’re one of the few people he can have full intellectual debates with and not lose his temper.

(Although if someone talks over you, he will go off on them.)

The logic behind your stand fascinates him- he wants to diagram it, measure the field, test variables.

Gets flustered when you tease him for being so “obsessed” with you under the guise of studying your stand.

“I’m just trying to understand its vector spread!”

Abbacchio

At first? Grumpy. Calls you a “control freak.”

After seeing you dismantle a threat without lifting a finger, he starts calling you “freakishly effective.”

Secretly impressed but won’t say it out loud- he shows respect by listening to your advice and following orders.

Will literally grumble “Fine, you were right,” after every successful tactic and stomp off to light a cigarette.

The type to walk into your room late at night like, “…Explain again how you knew that guy would fall for the bait?”

If he ever loses a teammate (even hypothetically), he always goes to you first. You’re his reassurance.

Mista

He doesn’t get all the technical stuff you explain… but he gets that you’re cool and that’s enough for him.

Constantly says “She’s got a sixth sense!” about you even when it’s clearly your stand’s ability.

Loves showing off for you in battle- “Watch this, you’ve got the plan, I got the guns!”

Gets super excited when you include him in plans like “YOU WANT ME TO SHOOT THE GUY YOU TRIP? HELL YEAH.”

Very physical. Throws his arm around you, always wants you sitting near him during team debriefs.

Narancia

Thinks you’re the coolest person alive and tells everyone.

“She’s like a ninja! She doesn’t even MOVE and the enemy falls over!”

Asks you to teach him how to “feel” the field but gets bored halfway through.

You two bond when you prank Mista using your stand- Narancia SCREAMS laughing when you make him stumble over nothing.

Gets embarrassed when you praise him for following plans right. Tries to act tough about it but his ears go red.

“You think I did good, huh? …Cool. I-I mean, yeah. I am the coolest. Heh.”

Trish

Your stand is +aesthetic soulmate energy+ to her.

She’s obsessed with how elegant it is- she says it’s like a ghost ballerina or a heartbeat that wraps around the world.

You and her develop amazing combo attacks- her using Spice Girl to soften parts of the battlefield while you trip and manipulate the enemies.

She helps you with skincare routines. You help her refine her moves. 

“I like that you don’t have to shout to be powerful,” she says one day, fingers brushing yours. “You remind me I can be soft and deadly.”

She totally makes you matching outfits for when the gang goes undercover.

[suzukiblu]

Fic concept! AKA another soulmate AU. Working title: "kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit".

Tim meets Superboy--Robin meets Superboy--and it goes, like . . . fine, he guesses. It's fine. They fight Metallo and Poison Ivy and don't die, though Superboy kinda looked like he wanted to when the kryptonite ring was happening to him.

Tim is a thorough little Bat-bastard, of course, so the day after all that goes down, he breaks into Cadmus. Well--breaks into their system, anyway. He figures knowing more about Superboy for the inevitable next time they meet up won't hurt, considering. Fully understanding potential allies' capabilities is--

There's photos in Superboy's file.

This would be completely irrelevant to everything, if those photos weren't specifically of Superboy's soulmark, which is so invasive and offensive that Tim feels kind of sick.

And also if that soulmark weren't the exact same one that showed up on him a few months back.

Well . . . okay, that's a . . . thing.

Tim has several sexuality crisises at once, then remembers platonic soulmates exist. But also he immediately had the sexuality crisises instead of ever thinking of platonic soulmates as being an option, which does not bode well for the "platonic"-ness of this particular soulmark.

Well, that's a whole thing now, he guesses.

Then he remembers that Poison Ivy kissed and mind-controlled Superboy. And also that Superboy, like, lives with his manager. His creepy, not very responsible, easily-blackmail-able manager. And also just . . . everything else he knows about the guy's life. Everything. All at once.

Tim has several more crisises and then calls Dick Grayson to freak out on him.

Tim: Is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway? I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?

Dick: I'm sorry, Superboy's not legally a person?

Tim: Nope! Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean.

Dick: Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation.

Anyway, Nightwing-assured Tim immediately grabs his go-bag and goes to Hawaii to make his kidnapping plans. Like, he's just gonna start soft-planning something, nothing concrete yet. Obviously it's going to take a lot of work to get a cocky half-Kryptonian teenage clone with authority issues and an inflated ego kidnapped by a lone Robin, and--

Five minutes later "normal civilian" Tim Drake meets Superboy on the street after a supervillain attack and Superboy's soulmark is just on full display where his suit's ripped.

And a Bat knows when to take a perfectly-presented opportunity, obviously. He still can't actually kidnap Superboy yet, but he can tell him they're soulmates as a "civilian" and then--

Five minutes after that, Tim's on a plane back to Gotham with a perfectly agreeable and actually much more chill than he was when they were fighting supervillains together Superboy, and just does not understand his life at all.

Also maybe he should've, like . . . called Bruce about the apparently very ride-or-die Kryptonian that he's currently moving into his city? Just . . . at some point . . . ? Possibly?

Whoops.

[oneslimybastard]

Another underutilized aspect of N, Natural Harmonia Gropius himself, is that he's conceptualized as not just a Math Guy, but a Math Genius if we go by some interview trivia notated on Bulbapedia.

It clearly shows in the way he speaks since his (translated) dialogue (idk about the original japanese one) is full of hamfisted references to formulas and frustration expressed when the chaos of the world does not align with them — which to me is like, the core of his character, something that makes him both An Asshole to deal with but also a very intellectually curios and creative individual. It's just a brand of creativity not a lot of people can keep up with nor understand.

N likes math because a lot of math is about clearly defined variables and their relationship to one another. If you come across an inconsistency that doesn't fit any prior definitions, you iron out a new definition and suddenly the field has expanded upon itself tenfold. It aligns with how his Very Autistic Brain functions, x + y = z, if I do x to y then z will happen. If z doesn't happen, then that just means I have to identify the hidden variables within the exchange and rewrite the formula to be more accurate.

Black and White's quality of writing is. Like pokémon often is. Questionable at best. The foundations are there but the execution is dumbed down and corny because it's still aimed at kids, BW in specific really cutting the theme of pokémon trainer ethics short in favor of just "dang u beat me in the pogiebattle guess ur right!". How-ev-er. In my head, and the reason why I still find the plot of those games compelling (aside for my unhinged thirst for goth man-milf Ghetsis) is that to me they're about local cult-raised autist Normal Henry Gropus bashing his head against the world over and over to desperately try and make the formulas make sense, to distill it into variables he can understand and predict on a consistent basis, and failing miserably at it. Because even if the world is Technically made up of a bunch of chemistry that you could, in theory, predict, there's just a lot of random noise in there from microscopic complexities that fuck everything up.

Pokémon are simpler creatures (discounting the eerily intelligent ones) who will be nice enough to behave like math problems most of the time. Humans rarely extend that grace, the more N studies them like a science project the more contradictory variables pop up. They have a million thoughts in their head he doesn't have access to, that brew into feelings he doesn't understand, which leads to actions he can't do a proper traceback through. Which is frustrating, devastatingly frustrating. At least at first.

Due to how BW2 pans out and my own yearning for thematic mirroring, whereas Ghetsis gives in to the Autistic Bitterness over all these NTs he doesn't fuckign understand, I like to think N develops a sort of joy in studying people like the impossibly complex math problems we are. Because he likes math, he likes figuring shit out, he likes buying a nightmare rubik's cube and charting the squares out on a nightmare variable graph (listen i am not a math guy. i respect the hustle but my skill level is too low to accurately attempt to simulate the process in writing. im sorry math guys) so he has a home-made flexible cheat code on how to solve any possible mix-up of it. It's fun for him, it stimulates his brain and he is so stupid good at it that he can only share that joy with like a stray alakazam or metagross because he's a bit of a tarzan just hanging out in the wilderness, he doesn't know any high end mathematicians he can casually geek out about combinatorial game theory with, and the normies just do not get it .

I think this math enjoying is kind of a big part of his ~Innocence~ as well, since there's a lot of childlike glee to being a Math Guy. It's the love of problem solving as a process rather than a means to an end, it's playful, but severely misunderstood to the point where people kinda might assume things about you if you are a math guy.

N's love of math helps him love the world but it also isolates him. He's a genius, but since he can't communicate it in a palatable way it'll get overlooked in favor of him just being a loomy weirdo on the street chatting up the local patrats.

If introduced to DnD though he'd spend so much time on forging ridiculously optimized multiclass builds, then migrate to digging through old obscure sci-fi ttrpgs from the 80s with hellishly complex systems just for the funsies of learning how the presented variables behave within a variety of frameworks, but then if you actually invited him to play with your group he'd look at you like you'd just called his mom a llama.

He's a neat guy to me, STEM guy who's also one of those animal rights activists who's a little too PETA-coded, I like him :)

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Red VS Blue, but make it Guild Wars 2

ok so i'm going to try and make this au make sense if you look at it from either side without prior knowledge of the other but theyre both so entrenched in my brain im not sure how well it'll work if you get lost im sorry in advance- or you can just enjoy the group piece and ignore the insane rambles below the cut! fair warning: its a lot! my red team yapping showing up in full force!

Don't say I didn't warn you :3

Context:

GW2 is a fantasy setting MMORPG, set in the world of Tyria. There are 5 playable races with their own unique cultures and such. I'm using the wikis for the races bc im lazy- the names are links to the proper wiki, but i've VERY ROUGHLY summarized for ease-

ASURA: The smallest playable race, Asura are highly intelligent and have a cultural focus on Academia and Research- furthering the reach of their magi-tech, sometimes at the cost of morals. Asura tend to be characterized as cocky intellectuals, who know more than everyone else in the room at any given time and they know it- but they're going to have a solution to a problem before you've finished explaining it.

CHARR: Giant anthropomorphic cats, the Charr are a militaristic race with a culturally cynical look on the world and a stubborn streak to match, and a general distrust of magic due to some Prior Circumstances. Charr tend to be characterized as gruff, fuck-around-and-find-out types, due to the military culture, and have more focus on their squad (warband) over individual relations.

HUMAN: On the surface, pretty par for the course here, but humans aren't actually native to Tyria- not that this stops them from being a cultural and territorial powerhouse in the setting. There is a fair bit of tension between humans and charr, and humans and some of the non-playable races in the game. Humans tend to be characterized as stubborn, tenacious and resourceful in a Tyrian context.

NORN: visually speaking, Norn appear to be giant humans, native to Tyria. Culturally speaking, Norn value honor and nature in equal measure- you should make a Legend for yourself, but you need to respect the Spirits of the Wild. Typically, norn are characterized as loud and boisterous, but reliable in a fight and always down to celebrate an impressive victory and share a story.

SYLVARI: The youngest race in Tyria, having only existed for about 25 years or so at the start of the game, Sylvari are plantfolk who Awaken from their mutually shared Dream as grown adults. The Dream gives sylvari the knowledge they need to function right out the gate, although the actual extent of said knowledge varies slightly by individuals, and is tended to by The Pale Tree (or the Pale Mother/Mother Tree, as sylvari know her)- sylvari follow a set of tenants given to them in the Dream that encourage compassion, kindness, and a drive to do what must be done called a Wyld Hunt.

__--__

RvB is a Halo machinima set in an appropriately sci-fi setting that is, above all else, fucking ridiculous. The plot, when it manages to exists in a semi-coherent fashion, focuses almost entirely on a band of absolute asshole idiots who cheat death as a hobby, swear a lot, and generally just would be unpleasant people to know but it is incredibly entertaining to put them into situations so that sums up the general vibe of the show. RvB is slightly less relevant to this au as the characters are what I'm yoinking and theyre all getting explained in their gw2 contexts here, but the main point is: the show is silly, and everyone in it is some brand of annoying, rude, mean, stupid or any combination there of. Also? Probably traumatized by war, whether or not they realize it. __--__

BORING STUFF OUT OF THE WAY ITS CHARACTER TIME __--__

THE GULCH KREWE - An Asura research team focused on making self sustaining golems. Technically Vic is the krewe lead, but he never seems to show up at their lab situated in the middle of no where for.... safety reasons. The official, documented by the asuran governement Gulch krewe is really incredibly small, at four asura strong, counting Vic even though there is quite a bit of debate on whether he actually counts since he's never around, but they have a reputation for being the worst krewe to work with. Ever. Of all time. Between reports of "unsafe necromantic practices" and general "workplace threats and harrassment", the only people who stay in the Gulch krewe have no where else to go. The "rank" nickname theme started mostly as a joke, but once it was started it was basically impossible to stop.

"Captain" Bucch Flowers - Asuran Necromancer - Asura, typically, do not have last names. Bucch, is not known for being the typical sort of asura. Eccentric and regarded as "morally questionable" by previous krewes, Bucch is a friendly individual who finds other people fascinating, both in terms of their psychology and physiology. He always has a smile on his face and a warm, cheerful demeanor that some people have claimed to be "unsettling", but I mean, really, he's just being nice. Right?

"Sarge" REDACTED - Asuran Engineer - Sarge took to his nickname with a brand of enthusiasm that really was just a warning to the kind of person he is, going so far as to have his previous name removed or changed on all documents he could. Loud, brash and unapologetic in everything he does, Sarge is the main "threat" of the Gulch Krewe between his wild experimental inventions, with their tendency to either go rogue against their creator or just plain blow up, his complete and utter lack of patience, and his habit of gesturing with his loaded shotgun during a conversation. His volume never drops below LOUD, but he's a very.. unique brand of genius who excels at making things that really shouldn't be physically possible work.

"Doc" Dufresne - Asuran Mesmer - Doc is, by all counts, the odd one out of the official Gulch krewe. Meek and empathetic in nature, Doc tends to be the moral voice of the krewe- one that often gets ignored. He is still annoyed by his ridiculous nickname, even if it is nice to have the affirmation that he really is part of the krewe. He's not even really a doctor! He's not great with medical care or technology. Or fighting. Or much of anything, if he lets himself be a little too honest. But he's part of the krewe, for better or for worse, and if that just means he uses his magic to pull his krewmates away from whatever is trying to murder them this week, then so be it.

The UNOFFICIAL Gulch krewe is a bit more.. diverse. Technically, non-asura don't get listed as krewe on the paperwork. They're hired help, not technically part of the team that gets credited for the work done in the published papers. Generally, this is because most hired hands don't have that much to do with the actual invention or research process- they're just there to be damage control when things go wrong. However with the Gulch krewe... a lot of things tend to go wrong. Technically speaking, there is no reason for a krewe of four three to have separate research teams. There is barely a reason for bigger krewes to do it. However... Captain Flowers and Sarge rarely seem to work on the 'technical' level of anything, and all it took was one offhanded comment from Vic (over comm, no less! couldn't even cause problems in person) for the pair of them to escalate and devolve into a rivalry that would ruin Doc's life, and the lives of pretty much everyone else who inevitably get swept up into it as well.

RED TEAM: Sarge claimed RED as his team color well before the idea of having color-coordination even occurred to Captain Flowers. Sarge claims he hired only the best to staff Red Team, with one exception for canon fodder.

Richard "Dick" Simmons - Human Elementalist - Born and raised in the upper ranks of human nobility, Simmons is a bit of a fish out of water when he's not in the human capital of Divinity's Reach. Of course, being an anxious individual with poor social skills, he didn't really fit in there either. He's got enough of the "I'm rich, you know," attitude held over from his upbringing that combined with a desire for praise, awkward conversation skills and the urge to prove his worth through his own intelligence, makes for a really obnoxious, know-it-all kissass of a man. But he's really good with technology, given his magic tends to prefer the buzz of electricity so that counts for something. Usually. He's not that bad once you get past the defensive nature and whiny voice. Probably?

Dexter Grif - Norn Warrior - With a hard earned feeling of "fuck it, fuck that, fuck this, I'm going to bed" that he trained into himself, Dex would have been perfectly content to spend his entire life lazing around his home city, Lion's Arch, scamming tourists and generally just kind of doing his own lazy thing. Or, at least, that's what he tells himself, as he has to look for actual work on the docks. It sucks. So when some loud mouth asura rocks up, shouting something Dex didn't really listen to beyond being a job, and a supposedly low effort one? Sign him the fuck up. But when the job is evidently not all naps and bored asura-watching, Dexter Grif will make his complaints known. Just... maybe not in range of Sarge's shotgun.

Donut - Sylvari Mesmer - Freshly Awakened, bright eyed, curious and endlessly talkative, Donut (Grif swears that can't be his real name, right?) is the Red team's resident socialite, sharpshooter, grenadier, portal expert and color coordinator. If you need something done, Donut is your man, or he can find you your man. While some people find his chipper attitude and love of 'dressing up' his friends with illusions annoying, and his tendency to veer into innuendos a bit awkward, everyone agrees it's hard to genuinely dislike Donut as a person. Maybe it's a mesmer thing, maybe it's a sylvari thing, maybe it's just Donut being Donut, it's hard to say. Despite his impeccable aim and frankly impressive throwing arm, Donut tends to be a little oblivious to the things right in front of him, but he's trying his best so most people tend to let it slide.

BLUE TEAM: Captain Flowers accepted BLUE as his team's color in good humor, as he tends to accept most things. He was not nearly as intense on his "requirements" for his team as Sarge- truthfully, most of Blue team were picked because Captain Flowers thought they were interesting more than anything to do with their actual skills.

Kaikaina Grif - Norn Elementalist - Kai has been called a lot of things, and not all of them flattering. Her personal favorites include sexy, wild, bodacious and "absolutely insane". She's a diverse gal. When her brother left Lion's Arch to go work for some mysterious asura in the middle of no where, Kai swore she didn't care. That lasted for all of a week, before she decided Dex was clearly up to something else and the asura job was a cover. Upon hunting her brother down and discovering, no really, it's literally what he said it was, she was disappointed. At least, until Captain Flowers offered her a position on Blue team. Being paid to stand around, look pretty, and bother her brother? Fuck. Yes.

Lavernius Tucker - Human Guardian - Growing up an orphan in Divinity's Reach makes a guy either really cruel or really clever. Tucker's never been the cruel type, so he went for clever instead. Though that quickly turned around to bite him in the ass, because being clever, and maybe a little bit of a smartass, means people notice you, and being noticed does not go well for him. Between at least one cult insisting he was some kind of savior from a forgotten bloodline, a jerk or three who didn't like Tucker outsmarting them or standing up for the people they were bullying, and whatever the hell is going on with his kid (courtesy of aforementioned cult), Tucker has more than had his fill of being noticed for being clever thank you very much. He just wants to find a quiet place to lay low and figure out this whole being a dad to a dragon thing. He's done being a hero and honestly he's done being helpful. Tucker's here to get paid, maybe get laid, and not get attached to anyone else that might screw him (or his kid) over.

Junior - Saltspray Dragon - Sort of a package deal with his dad, Junior is still figuring out the quirks and details of being a dragon in a society where 'dragon' is usually associated with the end of times, even for a "lesser" dragon like him. Fortunately, they're pretty solidly hidden in the middle of nowhere, so the only people around are friends of his dad's. Sort of. Junior is shy, generally, and tries to be careful with his size and his magic, but he's still a hatchling and sometimes it's real easy to get carried away when he's excited. Good news though! The Gulch krewe are well versed in shit breaking every other day, so no one gets too mad if something gets knocked off the shelf by his wings.

Church - Sylvari Thief - Some sylvari chose to cut themselves off from the Dream, in an effort to obtain either a sense of freedom from expectations, spite, or just a general desire for peace, quiet and solitude. While Church can certainly guess at his own, personal, reasons for becoming one of the Soundless, he sure as hell doesn't remember making the decision. Or much of anything, really, before about a week before he got hired onto Blue team. Just the name Church, which he can only assume is his name. He tells himself, amongst his internal tirades about his woes and his miseries, that Flowers hired him because he's smart and clearly the asura could see that. Not pity or anything like that. Still, it would be nice to actually remember literally anything. But Church doesn't complain about that- he's got more than enough things to bitch about from being part of the Blue team to distract his ego, his temper and his generally whiny attitude towards life in general. Who needs a past when you're surrounded by idiots?

Michael J Caboose - Norn Ranger- Never without his trusty arctodus companion, Freckles, Caboose is a joyful wall of muscle and hugs that frequently forgets that most people cannot, in fact, support the weight of him and his wolf-bear. Young and with no legend to speak of, Caboose is on a journey of his own making, to find friends that are just... so cool, everyone is going to want to hear stories about them! He just has the very very tricky job of remembering those stories. But hey, what are friends for, if not to help him when he forget a detail or twelve? And honestly, he thinks he found a GREAT group of friends here on Blue team. Sure they can be a little bit mean, but, Caboose has the heart of a skald according to the nice old ladies back home in Hoelbrak, and his heart knows when there's neat things

THE GOLEMS: The Gulch Krewe, official and unofficial, developed two more-or-less completely self-sustaining golems after splitting into their respective teams. They're not perfect, by any means, but they're certainly impressive to behold. Especially given that they both seem to be... well, people. That.. wasn't intentional.

Lopez - "Human" Engineer - Inspired by the dolls made by Tixx in the Infinirarium, Sarge chose to build a golem that looks almost human. His official logic claims that the more flexible build and increased intelligence allows for Lopez (Officially: L-0-PEZ - Lab-OH-Personalized Engineering Zoner. Sarge swears it makes sense. Red team is pretty sure he just made it up because he liked the name Lopez) to handle his own maintenance and upkeep, with improved head to body communication and modular independencies. The side effect of Lopez's "self repairing" abilities (read: his ability to take himself apart to put himself back together) is the fact that his body have very distinct seams, and he's prone to falling apart at them. His head coming off his neck is the worst and most common offender of this problem. Like most of Sarge's intelligent creations, Lopez has a sour attitude and very little respect for his creator. If you asked him, the only reason he sticks around is because it's easier to get his hands on the tools he needs to fix himself. That and no one else speaks Orrian since the continent and kingdom sank over 250 years ago. Well, no one besides Sheila.

Sheila - "Charr" Necromancer - Captain Flowers took a slightly more.. macabre approach to his golem creation. Made from the ethically and responsibly sourced bones of an anonymous charr donor (Captain Flowers's words), Sheila is a feat of magi-tech engineering and necromancy. Due to her... organic internal base, Sheila is much sturdier than your average golem for her size, and the necrotic magic that keeps her together and functioning needs almost no supervision, as it naturally drains minute fractions of life force from things around her, like non-sentient plants and insects. Though there are some... quirks, to be certain, but that's to be expected with such experimental magic! The days where she almost seems like a different person are most likely just her getting used to a shift in the magic, that's all. Nothing to worry about. Usually though, on her good days, Sheila is calm and patient, with a friendly attitude she seemed to pick up from Flowers, although somehow she's a bit better at reading a room than he is. She tends to be the most responsible and level head in the lab, which is fortunate considering she's also the biggest one there, excluding Freckles.

__--__

THE LANCER WARBAND: A tight knit charr warband, working outside of the charr legions mostly for decent pay and interesting jobs, the Lancer warband are skilled fighters, excellent hunters and all around impressive soldiers. Their one weakness? Their inability to get anything done without either a fight or fair bit of chatter (and the occasional argument leading to the fights) first. But once they've settled on an objective, they're nigh unstoppable.

York - Charr Engineer - By far the most laid back and easy going of the Lancer warband, York is the resident gunsmith, philosopher, mechanic and lockpick. If it requires nimble fingers (or claws, rather), York's got it covered. While he tends to be the chattiest of the bunch and that makes him seem distractable, York is often laser focused on his task- he just doesn't feel the need to act like he's focused. He's curious and honest in nature, and is always quick to come up with a joke to lighten a heavy mood.

Maine - Charr Warrior - Silent and deadly are the words most commonly used to describe Maine- not that they would ever come from him. Massive even by charr standards, Maine is brutal and efficient in a fight. By the time an enemy has seen his white fur, they're already screwed. Outside of combat, when it's just the warband, Maine still isn't a talkative sort of guy. He prefers to stand back and let the rest of them talk for him, with a few exceptions.

Washington - Charr 'Thief' (unrealized revenant) - Originally the 'cub' and rookie of the Lancer warband, Wash has earned his stripes as it were for his cunning adaptability on the field and his almost ridiculous good luck when it comes to survival. While he tries to be kind and compassionate when he can, he's more on the pragmatic side than he used to be, and he can't always balance being nice with being realistic. Still, Wash has a sarcastic streak big enough to give York a run for his money, and enough sharp wit and sharper knives to keep just about anyone else on their toes.

Texas - Charr Warrior - A bit of a badass, Tex is the Lancer warband legionnaire and easily the best fighter of them all. She's harsh, even to her own warband, but she cares more than she likes to let on. However, her temper tends to get the best of her, and she frequently works alone to blow off steam. The last time she left... she didn't come back.

South - Charr Necromancer - One of the twins, South is aggressive, impatient and vicious just as much as she is efficient with her magic. She's a survivor and despite her bitchy attitude and general disregard for the rest of her warband, she gets shit done. Maybe a little meaner about it than she needs to be but hey, it's done right? Who cares if a little more blood was spilled or if a few more punches were thrown than were strictly necessary.

North - Charr Guardian - The other twin, North couldn’t be more different from his sister. He’s gentle, understanding and tries to be a shoulder to lean on for anyone who needs it, not just their bandmates. Granted, sometimes this does get him punched, but his kind nature doesn’t stop him from giving as good as he gets. He’s a skilled marksman with a longbow, and his calm nature helps him keep a level head in a fight- useful, when you specialize in placing traps.

'Honorary' warband: When their Legionnaire, Tex, mysteriously vanishes, the Lancer warband is left fumbling in the wake. Fortunately, they have friends they can trust to help them get their bearings.

Carolina - Human 'Warrior' (unrealized Revenant) - not the step dad but the dad who stepped up Carolina has been a fighter and a soldier her whole life, or very damn near it. While not raised to quite the same degree of military as the average charr, her mother ran a tight ship of their home and after her passing, her father ran it even tighter. Her friendship with the Lancer warband started with a night of mildly drunken chaos with York, after which she kept in close contact with the charr. Intense in every factor, loyal, and more than a little competitive, Carolina thrives in combat situations that demand the most of her, which makes her a fast friend for the rowdy warband. Without Tex, the Lancer warband needed a leader, and Carolina stepped into the role of unofficial legionnaire as easily as donning her helmet. While comparisons between herself and Texas make her uneasy, she does admit she likes the feeling of being 'Boss' with the charr.

Reggi "Wyoming" - Asuran Mesmer - Reggi is a bit of an odd ball and a loner before he begins spending time with the Lancer warband. He enjoys a good pun and a bad knock-knock joke, but his disinterest in most scientific endeavors left him with little opportunities within asura society. So he left, took his humor and not much else with him, and has been something of a drifter ever since, more interested in taking care of himself above all else. While the Lancer warband may groan and scoff at him from time to time, they do work well with him, and even a selfish bastard like him needs back up from time to time.

[dcdreamblog]

The All-Star Squadron included heroes who came from a wide array of professions, social/economic classes, regional cultures (which was a much bigger deal back then) and ethnic backgrounds. And while most of them were cishet white men, some of them weren't. Likewise, many of them held religious/philosophical beliefs other than "mainline" Protestantism. Now, they were all heroes, dedicated to the common goal of fighting for justice, and etc. so I have absolutely no doubt that all of them were able to get over any prejudices they may have had and do the job, but we are talking about people who were mostly white cishet American men who were born in the first half of the 20th Century; I cannot imagine that none of them had prejudices, and that these prejudices caused friction. Can we talk about that?

You're right and I wish I had better answers to give you. But a few factors keep me from offering up a lot of clear or worthwhile examples.

The Squadron's members were really opaque, and their actual thoughts came AFTER the war through Tarantula's book "Altered Egos". He's one of the few heroes where we have a distinct and purposefully kept war journal of his thoughts and the thoughts of some of his comrades during and after the war. Most of the other heroes were really concerned with their secret identities and didn't write these things down for posterity, especially not their own bigotries and stumbling blocks.

The War gave everybody an incentive to face front and close ranks. Public schisms in the Squadron's membership basically didn't happen and arguments that occurred behind closed doors stayed there.

The Squadron was, for its age, a deeply, RADICALLY liberal organization.

(A propaganda poster of Will Everett Sr, The Amazing Man, punching Hitler in the face. Circa 1943)

It accepted a black man into its ranks without a single public disagreement. From its FOUNDATION a large chunk of its membership were women. The Squadron even intervened in the Detroit Race Riots in 1943 where Amazing Man publically eviscerated an android supervillain calling himself "The Real American".

I could sit here until the sun came up rattling off all the times that Squadron teams or its individual members smashed pockets of the Klan or the American Nazi Party, or the German American Bund and then dragged their ass in front of the papers to call bigotry and intolerance UnAmerican and damaging to the war effort. The Young All Stars publically celebrated a Japanese American member during the era of internment.

Any bigotry in the organization was imposed upon it from the outside. The biggest example I can think of is that Wonder Woman spent the war years officially listed as the JSA's "secretary" because the Society's membership was more heavily scrutinized and it wasn't possible for her to take what was technically a military position in what was technically a combat role.

What stumbling we do have evidence for is very, VERY slight. The Sandman voices some homophobic opinions during a case that lead up to his confrontation with the Phantom of the Fair. But by the end of that case file we read about Dodds going through an active epiphany about homosexuality because of that case.

The widest spread "bigotry" that seemed to be present in the Squadron was patriarchal language directed at its female members who were always in a position to safely and openly give as good as they got. We have a collection here at the Perisphere that is JUST photos of Liberty Belle elbowing Johnny Quick in the ribs!

It sounds absurd. It sounds too good to be true. It SOUNDS like a lot of things. But there it is, in black and white.

If you want me to undercut your heroes from the past, I would for the sake of intellectual honesty. But I can't.

The JSA are the superhero community's North Star.

Not just because they were the first. But because they have always been like that.

The only time I have ever even heard a RUMOR of UNCLE SAM cursing is a couple years ago when the modern Ray came out as gay and people started talking bad about him online.

The modern Shining Knight started identifying as Bigender and Sir Justin has gotten into fist fights over it.

Please just. For your own sake. Believe in them, they are maybe the only figures I can't bring myself to mistrust these days.

[straysparks]

Jayce and Viktor as Enneagram types 6 and 5

I have posted about this... surprisingly little for how deep I am into both Jayvik and the Enneagram. I may or may not develop a longer yap about these two (particularly why Viktor's behavior in s2 makes perfect sense given that he's a type 5), but for now I just wanted to share this bit I stumbled upon today with my Jayvik goggles on.

From the Enneagram Institute about the relationship between 5s and 6s:

Both Enneagram Fives and Sixes are mental types, although there are significant differences. Both have respect for the intellectual acumen of the other and the expertise and technical mastery the other possesses. They may well begin a relationship as colleagues or by sharing the same professional area of interest which forms the basis for a friendship and eventually something more intimate. Both types respect detail, factual objectivity and accuracy, craftsmanship, and the ability to analyze situations without inserting personal opinions or biases. As a pair, Fives and Sixes can be highly effective in dealing with crises because both are attuned to danger and to bringing their expertise to solve problems. Fives also offer emotional calm, detached objectivity, observational skills, an unusual and penetrating curiosity, and an unwillingness to settle for easy answers. Sixes bring strongly held values and ideas that make them less objective than Fives although they are more passionate. Their very emotional reactivity—including anxiety and fear-gives Sixes a more sympathetic, human quality. Sixes are more openly unsure of themselves and often look to authorities of some kind (including the Fives they trust) to give them guidance and advice. Fives tend to be surer of their ability to think for themselves and to entertain new ideas. Fives also tend to be more skeptical and rejecting of authority. Fives are accepting of Sixes’ changing needs for independence with connection; they are also patient with the Six’s vacillations. The devotion of Sixes and understated caring can break through the Five’s tendency to isolate. Thus, Fives and Sixes, as a pair, tend to have a symbiotic intellectual relationship of doubt and decision, questions and answers, problems solved and problems discovered that can be endlessly stimulating. In any event, for a relationship between these two opposite head types to work, there must be a tested and unshakable trust between them: they may often come to different conclusions, but they at least know that their hearts and minds are in the right place.

It's soooooo them I can't get over it.

I love them so much my heart will burst.