#i think of him as the personification of the concept

[lady-asphodel]

I think a lot of people went so far into debunking the misinterpretations of Dr. Ratio that they sometimes are blinded by their own idolized thought of him.

It is only my humble and subjective opinion — and interpretation of Dr. Ratio's character — but while I wholeheartedly agree that he isn't arrogant and narcissistic, Dr. Ratio is not a character made out of kindness and empathy.

No. I don't think Dr. Ratio is empathetic.

A lot seems to forget that he is still unconventionally self-centered and negative minded. The only reason he is so helpful is because he wishes for the success and progress of Civilization and Life. He's still human, of course, so he can show genuine care, but it isn't as occuring as some makes it seem. He doesn't help humanity, fools or others out of empathy and deep rooted kindness.... He does because his vision of life is beyond the concept of value itself: that's why he thinks all lives should be lived no matter what.

In fact, I think he doesn't really have any attachment to other people. What they are going through, what they once did or will do, anything, doesn't matter; it will never affect him emotionally or personally. But he may have a genuine 'care' for life and civilization. So, naturally, teaching and helping the ones having a part in it is the logical course, but he doesn't really "care" about them as individuals, nor does he actively despises them. The only thing that influences his behavior towards someone is based on their ignorance and foolishness.

So, while not empathetic, he isn't heartless and even less an asshole that hates everything and is mean to every walking things.

Dr. Ratio is extremely self-aware as much as he is aware of and understand his surroundings — something that heavily differentiate him with the Genius Society members. And I don't think it's because of empathy.

I personally theorize that Dr. Ratio possess the highest form of knowledge of the Self, being a personification of Truth itself.

[rioblitzle]

minecraft movie is a curse on anyone who has their own interpretation of minecraft steve as a character in any way. sorry jack black minecraft steve is here in the cultural zeitgeist and we all just have to deal with it now no more freely making shit up about this emotionless video game skin. chicken jockey!!! fuck you

[heliosphere-underthesky]

Halley's Comet! (concept)

[halcyon-autumn]

More concept writing for Dragon!Egwene au, where Rand and Egwene are twins and not romantically involved. This bit mirrors the scene in the show where Ishamael screws with Rand on the way to the blight. It goes a bit differently with Egwene as the Dragon.

Egwene awoke sharply, blinking to reorient herself. She had been dreaming - had she been dreaming? Something felt odd.

“What did you see?” Moiraine asked, all her Aes Sedai intensity once again solely focused on Egwene. “Dreams have great meaning, especially so close to the Dark One’s prison.” Moraine stepped forward, then arched backwards suddenly, a breathless scream fighting to leave her mouth. Something long and silver protruded from her jaw. A sword.

“No!” Egwene screamed, leaping to her feet. The silver blade retreated, but Moiraine was already dead, her bright eyes dull and pale skin already the color of the Blight’s blasted gray trees. She collapsed in a heap on the ground to reveal the Dark One, eyes aflame, mouth open in that eternal fiery scream.

He wanted her afraid, and she was, but being afraid did not stop her from also being furious. She grabbed Tam's knife and flung herself at the Father of Lies, blade out, and plunged it into his chest as hard as she could.

The Dark One didn’t react. She scrambled backwards, only now remembering that she could channel, that she was the Dragon Reborn and the Creator probably hadn’t put her on the earth to try to stab the Dark One in the face. She grabbed for the Source the way that she remembered Lews Therin grabbing for it in her dreams, but nothing came to her. Drift, she ordered herself as Ba’alzamon reached up and pressed the knife into his body. Drift!

The knife vanished. It was a man looking down at her now - a tall man, attractive, with a well-trimmed beard and a clothing style that she didn’t recognize but tugged on her memory nonetheless. She should recognize it, she almost did, but -

“Much easier to talk this way,” he said, and tilted his head. “You don’t look like him much - perhaps something in the eyes. Strange, how time changes us all.” And then the Dark One, the Father of Lies, reached out and tenderly ran his thumb along her jawbone to the soft skin under her chin.

She slapped his hand away as hard as she could. He didn’t seem bothered; she had a sense that he’d let her hit him. “Oh, sit down,” he said, as if she were a rambunctious child. “We’re finally having a conversation again. This is the best you could muster?” he glanced down at the corpse between the two of them. “One Aes Seda? You came with 99 companions last time, all of them more powerful than her. This - this is sad. You should have least brought the other channelers with you.”

“Shut up,” Egwene said. Drift. “I know that you’re trying to make me doubt myself.” DRIFT! 

“I’m doing you a favor, Lews. Old instincts run deep, I suppose. You’d have gotten so much further with a shred of humility - oh look at that, you’ve managed to embrace the Source. ”

It felt so good to hold the One Power again. Egwene turned on the Dark One, hands raised “I’m going to kill you,” she said, starting the painfully slow process of weaving the same fire she’d used against Eamon Valda. She had to be faster. She couldn't image that her fire would be enough, but the prophecies wouldn't exist if she didn't have a chance of winning. And besides, she had to do something.

“She’s barely taught you anything, has she?” The Dark One said. “Those women are going to use you; they’re not capable of anything else. Aes Sedai betrayed you before, and they’ll betray you again. Don’t you remember?”

Egwene unleashed her weave. She swore it was aimed right at the Dark One’s heart, but it seemed to twist in midair to land on the gnarled husk of a tree behind him. A tree which, when set alight, burst into flame like dried grass.

The Dark One’s eyebrows rose, and Egwene had the singular experience of seeing what the Father of Lies looked like when he was amused. “Stubborn as always Lews, now without the firepower to back it up. You tried, I supposed. That’s nice.”

The fire spread, tree to tree. Egwene tried to channel water, but couldn’t make more than a thimbleful. The Dark One watched, head still tilted. “You don’t have to go through this, you know.” The fire had ringed around the two of them and was pressing in, closer and closer. “Would that farmer want this? Tam al”Thor? Or your brother?”

“They both would want me to kill you,” Egwene said, and tackled him. If she was going to burn, so was he. She could have sworn that she felt her arms connect, but then the Dark One was two feet to the left of where he’d been and she was flying past him, crashing into the fiery roots and branches of the now burning Blight. Smoke burned her eyes and fire raced greedily up her clothing. She clamped her jaw shut to keep from screaming as the Power vanished.

The last thing she saw before the flames took her was the Dark One sitting down on a tree stump with an exasperated sigh to watch her burn.

--

Egwene gasped awake, eyes burning, skin still too hot. She smacked at fire that was no longer there and tried to cough smoke that didn’t exist from her lungs.

“What? Moirained asked “What did you dream? Dreams have great meaning -”

“The Dark One knows we’re coming,” Egwene said. “Of course it was a dream - I’m so stupid. I should have realized.”

“What did he say?” Moiraine asked, closing the distance. “What happened?”

The muscles in Egwene’s jaw tensed. “Nothing he said is important. All that matters is that I found out that trying to set him on fire won’t work.” She stalked forward, deeper into the Blight. “Let’s go.”

[aparticularbandit]

i will say, though. (and this is something i want to remember and use for fic purposes. and it's something that made me very happy.)

when they're fighting about the hajime/izuru reveal thing.

the white noise is a lot of probably mainly junko. and i went through it a while to catch more of them but like.

where's yasuke and ryoko otonashi didn't exist from the start were both white noise during that.

and it's like.

where's yasuke is ryoko. that is ryoko programmed into alter ego junko. and then that's clearly alter ego junko going fuck off you're not real.

which means that junko. programming alter ego junko. left ryoko in there. not just left her in there. intentionally chose to program her into this alternate version of herself. a ryoko who still exists and has thoughts and just.

that is important to me.

[schadenfreudich]

It is a normal thursday night and Franz is getting slightly sad at the fact that our god headmates see themselves more like concepts than actual real people. He is unsure about how he can fix that, but he sure is trying.

He's probably going to start by showing them music, because that's always the first thing he does when trying to help headmates find some sense of self.

[thequeer07puss]

The cosmological functions of Hera

I’ve been thinking a lot about Hera these past few weeks, and while reading “The Hera of Zeus: Intimate Enemy, Ultimate Spouse”, a new thought and association emerged about the goddess, leading me to analyse and interpret her role in the cosmos, both as a standalone goddess, and as the wife of Zeus.

[This analysis might contain UPG]

The gods as personifications: Zeus’s family as an extension of his power

Many of the gods we know and love have specific functions when they are in relation to Zeus. Hermes delivers his messages to gods and heroes, Apollo is his voice in the mortal world, and Athena is the personification of Zeus’s racing mind. Let me explain my thoughts

Athena is born from the head of Zeus himself, from Metis (which we translate as “wisdom” or “craft”) that he has in himself. As such, she would be one of the few beings in the universe to know and understand Zeus’s grand plans. For example, in the Iliad, Zeus’s grand plan is the destruction of Troy, which Athena was in firm favour of, despite the apparent opposition from her father, who had to restrain her from enacting his plan too soon.

“How is it relevant?” One may ask. “And how does that relate to Hera?” Put a pin in that thought dear reader.

Zeus did not create the universe: the cosmological role of Zeus and his marriages

Based on the interpretation above, many of Zeus’s family members are extensions of the reach he has over the universe, but only some of them could claim to be or have been his wife. Hesiod cites 7 goddesses as having been his wives, namely Metis, Themis, Eurynome, Demeter, Mnemosyne, Leto, and finally Hera. Since we have established the notion that Zeus’s family mean something in relation to him, my theory is that older goddesses, such as the Titans and early Olympians Zeus takes as wives are personifications of abstract concepts and concrete principles from which Zeus orders the universe.

[I would like to preface this next part by explaining a bit about the Ancient Greek view of marriage and sexuality. Marriage’s main function was the accomplishment of one’s personhood as well as creating new life who would contribute positively towards society. Additionally, sex was all about power dynamics, making the dominant partner (the man) the one in control of the submissive partner (the woman), making sex a sort of “subduing” of the other person.]

Zeus did not create the universe at all. He merely inherited it. It was established in Hesiod’s Theogony that all elements in the cosmos existed prior to his existence, albeit in a state of disarray and chaos. Zeus, as a god of structure, therefore inherited this disorderly world and created order from its constituents. In order to do so, he would need to be wise or crafty, which is the reason for his marriage to (and subsequent absorption of) Metis. After doing so he would need to determine the functionings and happening of the world, hence why he marries the Titan (natural force) responsible for establishing universal laws, Themis, from whom he creates goddesses who regulate the happenings of nature and human life, the Horae (Seasons or Hours). After establishing the functionings of the world and determining the best course of action for its happenings, Zeus had to think of what the world would look like, hence he took Eurynome, and from her made the Charites to make the world beautiful and full of delight. But the world was rough and unforgiving, yielding nothing of substance to that which Zeus would make, hence he married Demeter for her treasure of bounty and vegetation, and made Persephone. Then, after the world was beatiful, fruitful and plenty, there had to be intelligent creatures to inhabit it, so Zeus married Mnemosyne to create intelligence, learning, art and the delight of music, in the form of the Muses. Next, when intelligence had been created, it was time for the beings to proliferate in colonies, which is why Zeus married the fertile Leto, who produced Apollo and Artemis, representing the divide between civilisation and the savage wilderness. Lastly, when all had been made in good order, Zeus, whose hymn calls the most Excellent and Great, took in a wife, a final wife, the most beautiful goddess in existence, most excellent of birth, power and status: his sister-wife Hera, an equal to He who is Excellent.

The marriages of Zeus therefore represent a sequence of events that allow Zeus to structure the universe according to his will as the Divine Craftsman or Demiurge. His marriage to Hera therefore represents the completion of this ordering, the state of perfection in which all things exist under the order established by Zeus.

Hera the goddess of perfection

In “The Hera of Zeus”, Pirenne-Delforge and Pironti analyse the role of Hera as a goddess who pushes beings to their fullest potential. This is why, she is the mother of Hebe, which is the goddess of youth, a state where one reaches the full potential and power they will ever be capable of in life. This is also why in the story of the daughters of Pandareus, Hera gives the young women beauty and intellect above all other women. Therefore, it might come as no surprise that the goddess who grants perfection and loves excellence would be seen and worshipped as the goddess in charge of determining which deities are suitable to enter Olympus (see here), of initiating young people into greater society, and finding the most excellent match befitting of one’s status in marriage. However, as many of us know, perfection can not be achieved without a certain level of conflict, whether internal (like an artist willing to improve their craft) or external (a teacher giving students tough exercises to test their knowledge), and Hera being a lover of perfect things, thrives in this state of conflict or discomfort, which is exemplified in her relationship with her husband Zeus, with whom she argues quite a bit, with the goal to spur him on to consider and reconsider the way he rules the cosmos, and reestablish his supremacy among the gods. In the Iliad, Zeus seems to be used, or even expect to conflict and opposition from Hera, and even goes to her for advice on whether he should save Sarpedon from the war or not. In another story, Hera creates Typhon as the biggest challenge to Zeus’s reign, a challenge Zeus wins, reinforcing his superiority. Hera, in her role as wife of Zeus, is both a representation of the completion of Zeus’s reshaping of the universe, the goddess that reinforces her husband’s supremacy, as well as the goddess that forces Zeus to stay perfect to keep ruling and ordering the universe by constantly opposing and arguing with him to make him consider and reconsider courses of action to accomplish his plans.

Analysis of the Orphic hymn to Hera: the goddess of essences

Now that it was established that Hera is the goddess of excellence, and that she represents the state of completion that the universe exists in, a little question remains: why is the world so imperfect then?

Well, my friend, let me introduce you to the Platonic concept of “essences”. Plato saw essences as the universal, most basic, most condensed, most recognisable form of a thing or concept. They are essentially the “soul” of things or concepts. What is a cat? What makes a cat a cat? If you have a basic idea of what a cat is, it is because you are using the essence of “Cat” to produce a mental image of “cat”. Plato then proceeds to explain that we can not know these essences or experience them because we live in the material world, which is imperfect, which then alters the perfection of essences to make them appear to us in diverse forms.

“Then where are the essences?” One may ask. I answer: in Hera

The Orphic hymn to Hera calls her ψυχοτρόφους (psūchotróphous), which is translated as mother or nurse of souls, then proceeds to call her παντογένεθλε (pantogénthle), the source of everything, and say that she is in everything. Such a description is befitting of the goddess of essences.

[Here is part of a prayer I have written to Hera after a meditation on that aspect:

“Your hymn calls you the mother of souls, the Ψυχοτρόφος, the nurse of clouds, the source of all, my lady, wife and bedmate of Zeus, whose hymn calls him ἀρχὴ πάντων and πάντων τε τελευτή, the beginning and end of all things. In yourself you have held and mixed all things, and have mingled your essence in them. All things are from you, all things are in you, you are in all things, and in the act of breathing we inhale your essence. You are queen, you are παμβασίλεια, for you are the blessed creator of the universe, who makes all things alongside Zeus, whose head contains the knowledge of all things.”]

Conclusion: tl;dr

In summary, Hera, the final wife of Zeus, does not only represent a simple marriage if you think about it on a cosmological scale. She represents the state of completion our universe exists in after a series of restructuring by Zeus, she is the goddess that makes both people and gods suitable and perfect, and she contains in her the essences of everything in the universe. She is a complex goddess whose interactions with other beings in myth and cult are often brushed off as being “simplistic” or “dramatic”, but reveal a very interesting story once they are given more thought.

Thank you for reading <3

[P.S: please feel free to add any thoughts or opinions to this discussion. It will fuel the voices]

[jjslvt]

being jj maybank’s safe haven (concept? blurb? drabble?)

i just love writing the reader being this for jj — his comfort person because he needs that more than anyone (i might be self-projecting onto him there a bit btw sorry asdfghjkl). jj maybank being glued to your hip when you’re together because he feels at pure bliss for once in his hard life; a concept he had to get used to because it was so strange for him not to be on edge, especially with people. the tension just leaving his body because there he is, resting his cute chin on your shoulder, and arms tight around your waist. secretly afraid that if he lets go, you might vanish into thin air but he knows you never would. his eyes closing as he breathes in your scent, enjoying how you smell (maybe you smell like the beach to him, one of his favorite places) and he’s thinking you are his home. no, he knows, you are. you’re the personification of the sun that he needs shining upon him, getting rid of all the dark clouds threatening to surround him. then those days where you’re both laying on the beach, soaking up the rays and he just rests his head on your tummy because he must. or another instance, he’s crashing at your place. sleeping over and needing to cuddle you? wrapping himself on you like a koala bear — he’d probably trace light circles on your skin, secretly admiring you… feeling thankful for you. clingy & (maybe loverboy) jj once he realizes what a nice feeling it is to have someone caring, gentle & sweet, someone who understands him. someone who would never blame him because you know that under the rough exterior is his heart of gold. he means well. and you’re grateful that he lets his walls down with you. in fact, it’s an honor. now, it’s not your job your fix anyone but that’s not how it is. you’re not fixing him. he is fine in your eyes, you are just embracing his soul so it can shine out. showing him that it is okay. this happened just naturally, we all need support in life. we all deserve love. you two were puzzles pieces, fitting together. he needs someone who just listens to him, comforts him. sometimes, you do just want to hide him away from the world so he doesn’t have to go through another terrible experience; just so he can stay happy.

that smile of his is your personal sunshine.

also, he’s your safe haven too. because this won’t be one-sided.

[gay-dorito-dust]

HEYYYY

Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.

Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.

So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.

Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️

Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.

‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.

‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.

‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’

Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.

‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…

Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.

The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.

‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’

Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’

You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.

He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.

‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.

‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.

Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’

You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’

‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’

‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.

‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.

‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’

‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.

While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.

You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.

‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.

‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.

‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.

‘Sorry.’ You apologised.

‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.

Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.

‘Nope.’ Dick started.

‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.

‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’

Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.

[doctorsiren]

Finally some Silly Little Monster AU designs! Here we have Thalassa, Lamiroir, Jove, and Zak

Thalassa is the name of one of those ancient primordial Greek gods, and she was the personification of the ocean. This goes along with Lamiroir being the “siren”. Since her kids are an angel and a demon, I thought going the goddess route would work since they aren’t hybrids and I can do what I want with my lore :3

As I was drawing up the design, I realized that what I was wanting was literally just Sea Fairy Cookie from Cookie Run, so I went with it. The goddess Thalassa has horns made of crab arms, so I gave this Thalassa some horns as well. Her hair and dress are always flowing like water.

Next we have Lamiroir. Since her design with the cloak is more based around constellations, I went the space route. I decided it worked since the moon controls the tide anyways, so there’s already a connection between the sea and the sky. When she lost her memory in The Incident, it caused her form to change, resulting in what we have here. It’s essentially a cracked gem Lapis situation, which is what I based her design off of. I thought the mirror eyes was perfect, and that actually makes her (la)Mirror Gem and makes Thalassa the Ocean Gem. I’ve always associated her with Blue Diamond anyways, so it works! Also I was just a big fan of both design concepts, so I did both.

Then we have Jove, who is a demon like his son. Apollo’s hair horns translated into his demon horns in his design, but Jove’s hair goes down, so I opted to give him both his hair horns and regular demon horns. I also decided to have one of his horns be broken just to spice up the design a little.

Finally, we have Zak. He’s an angel like his daughter. I started off the design wanting him to have silly little tiny wings, but as I drew, I couldn’t decide if I wanted that or if I wanted him to have big giant wings. The discord decided that small wings were funnier and so I went with those. His design didn’t change much, save for the halo hat, his ears, the wings, and the silly sparkles. Also, I believe that he wasn’t bald on the top before the 7yg lmao so yeah 😁

Thalassa’s husbands were both really warm toned while she was all blue and watery, which I think worked out.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

To Be Patient

note: a concept I haven't tried before, I hope it will be enjoyed! After struggling for quite a while I can safely say that while writing this fic I fell completely and utterly in love with Sihtric again, as deeply as it used to be. Somehow this was therapeutic? Also, sorry if there are any mistakes left. I had a few rough days, my spellcheck seems to not work today and I need a 5 month nap.

warnings: 18+! angst/fluff/suggestive. Mention of abusive father (Kjartan), hints of depression (briefly) and mention of death (no details).

pairing: modern!Sihtric x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

summary: You and Sihtric came from different worlds, but your love was undeniable.

word count: 7,4k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

For years you served the same guy every other week in The Seven Kings, the bar you worked at. His name was Sihtric and he was the personification of the word 'mystery'. Sihtric was handsome and always kind, but he was also quiet and overall a little strange, something everyone noticed and not just you. Sihtric had a few scars on his pretty face and every once in a while he showed up with some temporary new bruises to accompany those permanent markings he already had. His clothes were old and worn old while he always wore a couple of golden and silver rings around his tattooed fingers, as well as a bronze pendant which dangled on a black leather cord around his neck. It seemed that he had money but just didn't care for fashion.

Every time Sihtric came in to order a couple of takeaway meals he paid in cash, which was odd in a time where everyone orders online and awaits the delivery at home. You also found out he came by foot to the bar and he was never on his phone when he was waiting, overall plenty of things to frown upon when you think about it. You didn't mind his old fashioned ways though, you were always happy to see and serve him. Over time you learned Sihtric lived with his father and step brother, something he had told you when you made some small talk with him during a quiet evening while he waited around.

Sihtric was still young at the time that conversation took place, as were you back then. But still to this day you don't know exactly how old he is, which was due to the fact that Sihtric himself simply wasn't sure of his age either.

'But you must have a birth certificate?' you frowned on that particular evening.

'I suppose I do. I guess my dad has it somewhere,' Sihtric shrugged, 'but I have never seen it. I'm not even sure how old my step brother is. We just don't celebrate birthdays where I'm from.'

It struck you as odd, another thing to add to the list of his strange ways, but you decided not to pry into his life too much and left it. You figured he was around the same age as you were after all. Despite all of his strangeness you just always had a thing for him, but it was only the day he stopped by for his regular order while sporting a new haircut, about two years after you had first met, when you knew you were head over heels in love with him. Less than two weeks before that encounter you had seen him while he still had quite long hair, which was braided on top, short on the sides and in the back tied together in an odd looking ponytail, which was quite long too. So when he came in with his hair looking a shade darker and cut short with the sides completely shaved off, it was as much of a shock as it was a pleasant surprise. You didn't see him as that young guy anymore, but as a grown man who was incredibly handsome, and you decided to try your chances that day after many moons of dancing around it.

'I hope I'm not overstepping here,' you said as you handed him his takeaway, 'but I was wondering if maybe I could get your number?'

Sihtric seemed quite surprised by that and became visibly shy as he fumbled with his cash to pay for his order. He began to mumble something and you vaguely understood that he wasn't going to give you his number because he didn't have a phone on him.

'Well, I can give you my number then,' you suggested, 'if you'd like of course.'

'Oh, yeah, but,' he stammered, 'I mean that, like, I have no phone in general… eh, right now.'

'Oh,' you chuckled, 'I see. It broke?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric lied with a nervous laugh, 'eh, it broke.'

'Happens to all of us,' you shrugged, 'let me know when you get a new phone then.'

'I will, lady,' the pretty boy smiled and left the bar in a hurry.

You felt silly for how you couldn't get Sihtric out of your head anymore after that sudden haircut change of his. You had always liked him but something was different now, you were both more mature at the point and it showed. You had made a move to show your interest, and all of the sudden you were afraid he wouldn't stop by anymore after you tried your chances. Maybe he turned you down with a lie that day to not hurt your feelings, you thought, or maybe he really broke his phone. It drove you mad the more you thought about it and you felt embarrassed about the whole ordeal for days after the fact, and you even kind of wished you'd never have to face him again.

However, you were thrilled when Sihtric suddenly started to come in weekly instead of every other week. One week he'd come in for his regular takeaway and the other week he'd stop by just to have a drink and, most importantly, to have a chat with you. Despite your regular talks he still remained peculiar and much of an enigma, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless as he was funny and also made you feel safe in his presence whenever a creepy customer stopped by and lingered too long. You felt Sihtric's eyes on you at all times when he was around, even if you were busy and had no time to really talk. He always stayed polite to you while remaining strange and somewhat shy still, and it was more than clear that you were interested in each other at that point. But since you had made the first move by asking his number and never received it, you felt it was up to him to make the next move if he was into you, and so you waited…

Your bosses weren't blind to your silent but obvious yearning either and, one evening after Sihtric had just left after stopping by for a drink, you were confronted about it while cleaning and closing up the bar.

'What are you doing with that Amish boy?' Alfred asked out of the blue.

'Amish boy?' you frowned, 'who-'

'That guy who just left,' Alfred rolled his eyes, almost annoyed that you didn't understand him.

'He's not Amish,' Aelswith said and glanced at her husband.

'Well he's something like it, at least,' Alfred shrugged.

'Wait, what do you mean?' you asked, clearly confused, 'Sihtric is.. he's Amish?'

'Yes,' Alfred grinned, 'he is.'

'He is not,' Aelswith talked over Alfred, 'he is not Amish, but he does live secluded with his family at the outskirts of town.'

'Secluded?'

'They have their own little community,' Alfred explained, 'I believe they identify as pagan and try to live that lifestyle like in the old days. No electricity, no phones, no internet. They don't believe in doctors or medication and they worship the old gods in their own traditional ways, whatever those may be.'

'They used to be very closed off, even more than they are now,' Aelswith added, 'they've been here for as long as we have, but in the last couple of years we noticed they are trying to mingle more with the rest of the town, supporting local business here and there instead of doing everything by themselves on their own piece of land. They buy some food from us and I know Sihtric's step brother stops by the pet store often to get dog food. A lot of dog food,' she scoffed lightly, being clearly puzzled about the amount, 'anyway, they know they are frowned upon and that people think they are odd. And they are odd, they are heathens if you ask me,' she sneered, 'but that boy, Sihtric, he's been nothing but nice whenever he stops by here.'

'But his father, Kjartan,' Alfred made a face as if he spoke the Devil's name, 'he is a cruel man.'

'Cruel?' you asked, 'how so?'

'He raised his sons the old ways too,' Aelswith said, saddened, 'punishing them to medieval standards whenever he seemed fit to do so. A lot of dark things happened in that little community of theirs over the years, things I'd rather not speak of. And surely you have seen the bruises on Sihtric's face too from time to time.'

'My goodness,' you breathed, needing a moment to absorb everything you were told, 'but… Sihtric? Is he, you know, somewhat normal then?'

'As normal as could be given the circumstances,' Alfred said as he grabbed a towel to wipe a few tables, 'but don't be fooled. He too can be violent if a situation calls for it.'

'But he wouldn't harm a lady,' Aelswith reassured you, 'I know he wouldn't. I've seen the way he looks at you, he likes you.'

'Likes,' Alfred scoffed from across the bar, 'he's in love.'

'Maybe,' Aelswith smiled at her husband, then looked back at you, 'all we're trying to say is know what sort of person you are dealing with. He may come around here often, but he is a stranger to the world as you and I know it.'

Hours after that conversation you still weren't sure if they tried to warn you or encourage your longing, but you were even more intrigued by Sihtric than you had been before. And when you saw him again one week later, when he came in to order some food again, you paid a little more attention to his behaviour than usual. Now that you knew more about him you noticed his social skills were indeed not the greatest, as he struggled to look into your eyes when you talked to each other and he sometimes didn't know how to properly respond to things that happened around him.

You could tell he was confused when sports were shown on TV that evening at the bar, as if he was not entirely sure what exactly he was looking at on the big screen, and he didn't understand why people jumped up and cursed at the TV either every now and then. Sihtric kept looking at the screen while his order was being prepared, but you could tell he didn't understand anything of what was going on and he didn't know how to behave. So he stayed back as much as he could, sitting on a barstool in the far corner while he waited. And in his confusion and being overwhelmed, he forgot to grab the bottled drink you had placed next to his packed order, so you were quick to run after him when you noticed it shortly after he had disappeared.

'Hey, wait up!' you called out as you ran up to Sihtric, who was already halfway across the parking lot, 'you forgot your drink!'

'Oh,' he chuckled almost shyly as you handed him his drink, 'thank you and I'm sorry about that.'

'Don't worry,' you smiled, 'I'm glad you weren't too far away yet. You paid for that so you better take it.'

'I should,' Sihtric nodded, 'or my father won't be happy. You saved me from an unpleasant evening, thank you,' he spoke softly.

Your heart sank when you remembered the stories you were told about his father, and Sihtric noticed you looked more shocked by his words than he expected. He stared at you with big eyes, realising he had run his mouth, so he hastily thanked you again to try and change the mood.

'You're welcome,' you smiled and calmly placed your hand on his arm.

You realised Sihtric was too shy to try anything, so you took it upon yourself to make it clear once again that you were interested in him.

'Listen,' you said, 'you're always welcome here, you know? At the bar I mean. Anytime. Even after closing time. If you want to come around to just hang out or something, just let me know.'

'Really?'

The glimmer of hope and enthusiasm in his eyes warmed your heart.

'Really,' you smiled.

'Anytime?'

'Anytime, Sihtric.'

You then leaned in to kiss his cheek before you turned on your heels and made your way back to the bar, leaving Sihtric behind completely stunned and with a blush on his cheeks as he watched you disappear through the large wooden door.

A few days later you were surprised to see Sihtric walk in as it was not his regular evening of visiting, but his eyes immediately found yours and he took a seat at the corner of the bar, his usual spot. It was a quiet evening so you were happy to see him, but Sihtric was visibly nervous when you approached him and poured him a drink. You made some small talk while trying to figure out why his behaviour was off, and it all made sense when he suddenly pulled a phone out the pocket of his old leather jacket.

'I see you finally got a new phone,' you smirked, 'so I can give you my number now?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric chuckled shyly, 'I just… I need help with, you know,' he painfully struggled to get the words out as he rambled on, 'I don't really… I just…'

'It's okay,' you stopped him from making himself more embarrassed once you understood what he needed.

You understood he had no idea how a smartphone worked, which wasn't odd given the way he was raised. You could tell he was clearly ashamed to ask help for something that was so normal to everyone else, and you didn't want him to feel ashamed around you for something that wasn't his fault. Because how is someone supposed to know how something works if no one ever taught them? It was not a laughing matter, so you wasted no time in helping him out.

'Let me see what you got,' you said as you sat down next to him.

Sihtric held the brand new phone in his trembling hands as he showed it to you.

'Okay, we'll figure it out,' you reassured him, 'let me connect you to the wifi here first.'

You took his phone and Sihtric watched you set up his device, not understanding anything of what you were doing, but he liked it anyway because he got to be close to you without having to talk to you and try to impress you. You downloaded a few handy apps for him and showed him the basics he needed to know. You then added your number to his contacts and taught him how to call and text you if he wanted to do so.

'Now you can talk to me anytime you want to,' you smiled and handed back his phone.

'I will whenever I can,' Sihtric said with a shy smile, 'thank you.'

You gave him a wink and made your way back behind the bar again, pouring him another free drink in the hopes he would stick around a little longer as you had to close the bar on your own that night. And luckily for you he stuck around, and so you got to join him for a drink when it was almost time to close, with only a handful of men left in the bar finishing their drinks.

'Thank you,' Sihtric suddenly said as you sat next to him again.

'Don't worry,' you chuckled, 'it's just a phone, no need to thank me for setting it up.'

'No,' Sihtric shook his head lightly, 'I mean… thank you for not laughing at me or thinking I'm stupid.'

'Oh,' you said with a soft sigh as you looked at him, but he immediately averted his eyes as they met yours.

'I assume you know where I live,' he said quietly.

'I have heard,' you confessed, 'yes.'

'Well,' he cleared his throat, 'it means a lot to be treated like a normal human being for once by someone who knows where I am from. We don't live like most people do and have limited knowledge about technology and stuff, so most people assume we're just dumb.'

'I never thought you were dumb,' you reassured him quietly, 'and I'm sure you have knowledge about things I've never even thought of.'

'Probably,' Sihtric chuckled softly, 'I can tell you which plants are safe to eat out in the forest.'

'See,' you laughed and lightly nudged him with your elbow, 'you could save my life if we'd go on a hike.'

Sihtric smiled at that but you could tell there was more in his eyes than joy, there was a hard sadness in them too as he looked at you while his smile slowly faded. It was as if he realised you were something he could never have, as if he could never go on a hike with you or save your life when needed. It was as if he looked at someone he loved with all his heart and realising he would never be able to call them his.

You mindlessly placed your hand on the back of his as it rested on the bar, and a soft smile reappeared on his face again while he turned his hand to hold yours and saw the way your hands just fit together like two puzzle pieces.

'I have to close up here soon,' you said, saddened, 'but if you want we could stay and have another drink after I kick out those guys over there.'

'I would love that,' Sihtric said as he still held your hand, and then his smile faded again, 'but I should get back home. It's getting late and I'm not supposed to be out at this hour. I think I'll already be in trouble when I get back.'

'Don't go back,' you blurted out as he got up, 'I mean, you… you can stay with me if that means you won't get into trouble.'

'That would only make it worse I'm afraid,' he said and grabbed his jacket off the barstool, 'but I appreciate the offer.'

'Will you be okay?'

'Always, don't you worry. I will try to call or text you.'

'Promise?'

'I promise,' Sihtric said with a half smile, in the hopes to ease your visible concern.

And this time it was his turn to kiss your cheek and leave you behind with flushed cheeks as he disappeared out of the door.

You were pleased when Sihtric texted you that same night, and you remained in contact every day after. You either texted throughout the day or you'd talk to him during his regular visits. Video calls were quite rare and whenever you did video call, he was always in the same spot; somewhere in a darkened barn between huge stacks of hay.

You never got any wiser about where exactly he lived during those video calls or what goes on around there, as his surroundings were always dimly lit in that barn and you never saw or heard another person around either, you only heard a few horses and goats in the background every now and then. You did learn a lot about Sihtric as the months passed by, and you fell more in love with him every day. You learned he was funny and caring, asking you every day if you ate enough and drank enough water and asking if you slept well. He always wanted to hear about your day, no matter how uneventful it was to you, and he would always count down the days via text until he'd get to see you again at the bar.

Whenever you met up in real life you were both still holding back, despite the clear romance that had bloomed overtime by texting and calling, as Sihtric was fast to learn that it's easier to say something over text than in real life. You knew being together wouldn't be easy and it made you both hesitant despite the strong urge to just surrender to your feelings. And it wasn't until the day you invited him to join you to a friend's party as your date that you would both finally be honest with each other.

Sihtric accepted the invitation to join you but he told you he couldn't tell his family about it, so he'd have to find a way to sneak out and meet up with you. You were delighted to see he showed up at the agreed time and place, in the dark alley behind the bar, and for some reason it was as if a weight fell off of you both at that moment. You almost ran up to each other and leaped into each other's arms, holding on so tightly it was almost bruising. It was knowing you were all alone for the first time with not much chance of being interrupted that led to your lips finally finding his, without speaking, and colliding into a kiss that sparked and burned with a passion that could not be explained with words, it could only be felt.

There aren't enough words to describe how it felt when you finally kissed him, it could only be described as something of a dream. It felt like pure bliss to feel his facial hair brush gently against your face, to feel his arms around you and his tongue slowly and carefully sneaking past your parted lips and into your mouth as the kiss deepend so easily. To feel his short and soft hair as you raked your fingers through it in an attempt to keep him as close as possible, it all could only be described as a dream, because it made you feel weightless and pleasantly disoriented while it also felt too good to be true. 

But it wasn't a dream. It was real, and you both understood it was real when the kiss was broken for a brief moment just so you could look at each other while trying to catch your breath, only to then crash into another kiss that was even filled with more passion and lust than the one before. You almost clawed at each other to stay close, you were all pressed up against his body while Sihtric had you pushed up against the alley wall. You grabbed and tugged at each other's clothes as if afraid you could get separated any moment. Grabbing and pulling in an attempt to be close while also feeling as much of each other as possible while you still kissed deeply. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, and there was nothing Sihtric wanted more than to kiss every inch of you right then and there. But it wasn't the right place and it wasn't the right moment… it wasn't how your first time with him should be.

Sihtric wasn't a virgin and definitely no stranger to sex, which you were well aware of as he never lied about the fact that prostitution was a thing in his community. But to be intimate with someone he was in love with was something he hadn't done before. And he was terrified he ruined the moment when he had to stop you by taking your hands and holding them, after you had already palmed his arousal through his black jeans.

'I, please,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, his voice trembling as he spoke, 'not… not like this, not here,' he swallowed hard while trying to regain his composure, 'you deserve better than this. I won't treat you like… you know.'

'I know,' you said and laughed softly, 'I… I didn't mean to lose control like that either. I'm sorry-'

'Don't,' he whispered and captured you in another sweet kiss, 'don't apologise. I want it too, you know I do. You know all the things I want to do to you,' he chuckled, reminding you of the endless dirty texts you'd often send each other, 'I just don't want it here.'

'Well,' you hummed as your noses still touched, 'we have to stop by my place first anyway. I have to change my clothes after working all day.'

'I know,' Sihtric smiled as his hands roamed your figure, 'what time do we have to be at that party?'

You took his hand and walked him to your car, where you found out he had never been in a car before. You had to show him how the doors open and even had to help him with his seatbelt. Sihtric was tense the whole drive to your home, sitting up straight with his jaw clenched as he held tightly onto the door trim with every turn you took. You took his free hand and gave him a comforting squeeze, to which he seemed to relax a little.

Once back at your place you truly realised how secluded Sihtric lived all his life, as he was in awe of every single thing he saw. He couldn't believe how pleasantly warm your home was, nor the lights you switched on by just pressing a button. He loved how clean and spacious your home was, despite it being a regular apartment to your standards, and the feeling of warm and clean water from your tap as he washed his hands left him speechless too. He told you he always showers cold and by using buckets of water. His "room" was warmed and lit up by candles, and when he'd go to sleep he had to wrap some extra fur around him for when the fire died out while he slept. You couldn't believe people still lived like that, but you accepted it regardless. What you did struggle to accept was how Sihtric was treated, from the stories you had been told and the hints he had dropped during your conversations, but you didn't want to be rude so you never mentioned it.

You told him to just "chill on the sofa" while you were quick to shower and change into a form fitting dress, which matched Sihtric's all dark clothes, despite your dress being brand new and his clothing being rather dated. But he still looked good though. However, it didn't take long before your dress would be taken off again.

You met Sihtric in your living room to show off your outfit, to which he couldn't contain his smile nor his urge to touch and kiss you. And before you knew it you were kicking off your heels while pulling him inside your bedroom, where you both got in bed after undressing each other to make the sweetest and most passionate love possible. It was everything you hoped for and more, as it was as tender as it was steamy, it was as gentle as it was rough. Feeling him inside you while his body was comfortably pressed onto yours, hearing his deep sighs and soft grunts in your ear as your arms were wrapped around his muscular torso was the most perfect moment of intimacy you had ever experienced. And by the way he begged you to cum with him, repeating those whispered words as if it were a prayer, you knew it was as perfect for him as it was for you.

And Sihtric might have been a stranger to the world you lived in, but he was no stranger to being a gentleman. So after you both came down from your highs he helped you back in your dress, fixed your hair up and planted a few more kisses on your lips before finally being able to leave for the party together.

The party was another new experience for Sihtric. Not that there weren't any parties in medieval times. So the concept wasn't new to him, but the scale of everything was new to him. The party was much bigger than what he was used to. The music was louder, the people were more drunk and overall there was more chaos around him, which was hard to imagine since vikings knew how to party. He enjoyed it even though it was overwhelming, but he mainly enjoyed being with you and he never strayed from your side that entire night. You tried to dance with him, but his moves weren't great, to put it nicely. So you gave up on that quickly and ended up laughing about it together in the corner of a crowded room, where you would eventually just make out for hours, everything around you completely fading to the point it was just you and him.

Sihtric was truly happy that night and carefree, you could tell. You had known him for years but that night was the first time you saw true happiness in his eyes, with no far tucked away sadness behind it. No, he was happy. He felt free for the first time in his life and his smile was genuine, as were his words when he told you he loved you and wanted to marry you, just before he kissed you endlessly there in that corner while the music blasted.

He wanted to marry you and be with you forever.

Because he found you were his happiness. 

You were his freedom.

You took Sihtric home with you after the party, only to make hot and passionate love again on your couch that same night. You told him that you loved him, but that he still was an enigma to you and you wanted to understand him and his ways. Sihtric told you that in time you would learn to understand him, as he had no desire to be with anyone else ever again, and that is when you both agreed to become a couple.

You knew it wouldn't be easy to be with him because of his lifestyle, and what made it harder was the fact that he couldn't stay the night with you, you just had no idea how difficult it would become. Sihtric had to go back home before anyone would find out he wasn't there. You tried to change his mind, to convince him he didn't have to go back there if he didn't want to, but your attempt was futile.

You drove Sihtric out of the city to where the countryside started, and he told you to stop the car next to the road because he'd walk home from there. It was better for you to not get too close to wherever he lived, he explained, it could cause trouble and he didn't want that for you. He then held you tightly while he told you again that he loved you. He promised he'd contact you the next day, and before he got out of the car he kissed you deeply for as long as his lungs allowed him. You then watched him walk off, with a heavy feeling. It was a mixture of missing him already and being gravely concerned about him going back home.

The next day you waited for Sihtric to contact you but he never called or responded to your messages, and whenever you tried to call him it went straight to voicemail. You were devastated, finding it hard to get up in the mornings and go on about your day after he seemingly ghosted you. Your sadness turned into anger after a few weeks, when he didn't even show up at the bar anymore. You felt he had just used you for sex and a good time at a party. You thought that maybe back home realised he didn't like "normal life" at all and just wanted to get rid of you. Whatever his reason was for just disappearing on you, it was a pain you carried in your heart for months as you tried to get over him. 

Alfred and Aelswith also noticed Sihtric didn't stop by anymore, but they stopped asking you about it after you lashed out once and started crying after you cursed him out for what he did to you. Your bosses then figured it was best to never mention Sihtric's name again in your presence. It took you almost half a year to gather the strength to block and delete his number, despite your messages never being read before that, but it was the only way that he would eventually just become a vague memory of a man you had loved deeply once. The only existing problem was that no matter how much time passed, you still loved him, even when the seven month mark of when you had last seen him went by.

A few weeks after that tragic anniversary date you had to close the bar on your own in the evening. It had been a drag of a day so you were glad to pack up and leave through the backdoor, into the darkened alley. You hated how that alley reminded you of Sihtric every time you had to go through it. You locked the door behind you and made way to your car when you felt a sudden presence behind you, not too close by, but close enough to just sense it. You quickly turned and found the shadowed figure of a man facing you from a few metres away. He just stood there, not moving or speaking, and it freaked you out to the point you yelled that he'd better stay away from you, whoever it was. It was only when you turned to jog to your car that the man spoke, asking you to not run away from him, and you froze to the ground at the sound of his voice.

'Sihtric?' you half gasped as tears welled up in your eyes.

You turned and as he stepped closer you recognised him, and you backed away in shock upon seeing his stern and bruised face. He wore his old and dark clothes, this time a black beanie too, and he looked so different while also looking as if nothing changed at all since you last saw him. But something was very different, you knew it. The innocence he had in his mismatched eyes when you had last seen him was completely gone.

'Don't run,' Sihtric whispered, 'please.'

Your eyes darted all over his face. It was as if you saw a ghost, so shocked and almost frightened you were, but you also felt a wave of relief washing over you upon knowing that he didn't forget about you.

'What the fuck happened?' you managed to ask with a trembling voice.

'I can explain everything,' he said calmly, clearly also relieved that you weren't running away from him.

But you couldn't run even if you wanted to, because you still loved him. And love made you a fool. So instead of demanding answers from him, the first thing you did was fall into his embrace and cling onto him as if you were never going to release him again. And without thinking you kissed his cut lips and allowed his bruised hands to hold you as tightly as he could, while you welcomed the comforting warmth of his tongue against your own, a feeling you had been craving for since the last time you had kissed him. You kissed until you both cried, and you cried until you both could barely breathe as you held each other.

'That night after the party,' Sihtric whispered against your lips as he sniffled, 'I walked home, thinking I got away with it. Thinking I got away with sneaking out and having no one notice my absence. But I was wrong. I was caught as soon as I snuck into my room. My step brother,' he swallowed hard, 'he noticed I wasn't home and warned my father, who then waited all night until I got back. They questioned me and when I refused to answer they searched me and found my phone. My brother tried to unlock it and demanded I show him what was on there, but I couldn't… they'd find out about you. They'd find out everything about you and everything we talked about and everything we did. They'd see the countless photos we texted each other and the videos we made when we were together. I don't know what they would've done to you, if they even would have tried to find you, but I couldn't risk it. When I didn't help them, my father broke my phone. He threw it in the campfire outside and then had my brother drag me out there too, waking up the entire village and announcing to everyone in the dead of night that I'm a traitor. That I want to leave the community and that I am polluted and brainwashed by the city people.'

Sihtric stopped to take a deep breath while you carefully wiped his tears off of his bruised cheek.

'I didn't argue with them,' he continued, 'there's no point. I figured I would just accept whatever punishment they would give me and go on with my life. And they punished me,' Sihtric chuckled, almost psychotic, 'but they didn't let me go on with my life. They didn't want me to try and leave the lands again, they didn't want me to go wherever I'd been spending my time anymore. So they threw me in the cellar and chained me to a wall. They'd visit me occasionally, to beat the shit out of me and feed me. They tortured me for a couple of months until my father decided it was enough and he believed I learned my lesson. I played the part of an obedient member of the community and kept my head down. I knew I couldn't escape and see you, but believe me,' he said and took your hands to kiss them, 'I thought of you every single second of every single day. You were the only thing that kept me going,' he whispered and carefully cupped your face as he started to cry again, 'but I couldn't leave. I couldn't leave because they were watching every move I made. And every few nights my father would give me a beating to remind me where I belonged. So I went with it until I fully regained my strength again, and even more while I thought of ways to get out. I only got away two nights ago. I,' Sihtric began to stammer, 'I- I k… I killed him. I killed my father. I killed him when he came to beat me once again in the night and I ran. I ran so fucking fast after I was sure he was dead. I wanted to come see you right away but I couldn't,' he confessed, 'I was covered in blood and I also had to make sure no one had seen me and followed me. I slept in the woods and managed to find a lake to wash myself, to at least try and look decent for you but I… I was afraid. I am still afraid. I am afraid you never want to see me again after this, and I understand that, but please,' he begged as he dropped to his knees, holding your hands as he looked up at you while he cried, 'I had no other way out. I had to do this. It was his death or my own.'

It took you a while to understand everything Sihtric had told you. Once the first shock wore off all you could think of was to get him to a hospital and have his injuries checked, but Sihtric refused. He had never been treated by a modern doctor before and was simply terrified, a fear he would get over eventually though, but for now all you could do was take him home with you and tend to his bruises yourself. 

From what you could see it seemed the bruises he had recently earned would heal just fine, leaving no permanent damage. Sihtric seemed okay, considering everything that had happened. He was just extremely tense and you told him to take a warm bath in order to try and relax. It was only when you helped him take off his clothes that he finally took off his beanie and revealed that half of his hair was shaved off. It was another shock to endure that night, but one you did get over rather quickly, as you were more concerned about any internal damage as the bruises on his toned arms and chest were hard to look at, and surely must have bruised his insides too.

After you left the bathroom you finally had some time alone to try and process everything. And as you cried while you tried to come to terms with the things that Sihtric had done and the things that had been done to him, you realised he did what he had to do in order to survive. And you would never judge him for that. And as Sihtric came to terms with the fact he was in a clean bathtub which he could constantly refill with warm water, he realised how awful his life had been up until that very moment, no matter how silly that seemed. It wasn't about the clean water, it was about not feeling afraid for once that eventually made him cry, his silent tears falling in the water as it cooled off.

You washed and dried his clothes while adjusting to the situation, and about an hour later Sihtric joined you in your living room. He allowed you to cover some of his wounds with bandages. Sihtric couldn't keep his eyes off you as took care of him, and he felt as if his heart could burst, and you made him promise he'd go to a doctor with you tomorrow.

'I still love you,' you whispered as you wrapped his bruised wrist.

'It's easier if you didn't,' Sihtric replied quietly.

'What?' you snapped and looked up at him, 'what does that even mean? Then why did you come back? So… so you could dump me? So you could disappear again?'

Your outburst was caused by your deep rooted pain of when he had disappeared, and you felt awful for lashing out like that as soon as it had happened.

'No, no,' Sihtric quickly shushed you calmly, 'no, I never meant to hurt you. And I didn't mean it like that. I just mean that this… us… we both know it won't be easy. Our lives...'

'Are different, I know that,' you agreed, 'but don't try to push me away here. Don't sabotage this, please. We can make this work. And you're right, it won't be easy. I just… I need to know where we go from here. Where do you go from here?'

'Well I can't go back home,' Sihtric said with a half smile and a scoff, 'even if they wouldn't find out I killed my dad, they'd banish me anyway. You can't be with someone from outside the community and expect to still be accepted there.'

'Banished?' you made a face, 'damn, you guys really are honouring medieval times, huh?'

'I'm afraid so, lady,' he chuckled, 'and it means I'm… homeless now, I guess.'

'You're not,' you said and took his hands carefully, 'you're not homeless. You can stay here, with me, and you know that. You will be safe here.'

'It won't be easy,' Sihtric reminded you again, 'and I won't be easy. I have to adjust, and that will take time. A lot of things are new to me and a lot of things won't make sense to me at first.'

'I know, but we have time. Sihtric,' you cupped his bruised cheeks lightly, 'we have all the time in the world together. The most important thing is that you are safe and that you will heal. After that we will figure everything else out, and I promise you will adapt.'

'I'm scared,' Sihtric whispered and averted his eyes.

'I know,' you gently leaned your forehead against his, 'but you don't have to be scared. Change is scary, I know, but you won't be alone. I will teach you whatever you need to be taught, don't worry about that, okay? I got you,' you kissed his lips softly, 'I promise I got you and your secrets are safe with me.'

'You don't think I'm a monster?' he carefully asked.

'For killing your abusive father?' you scoffed, 'never, Sihtric. Never. If I had the chance to kill him for what he did to you, trust me, I would've taken that chance. No one will hurt you anymore, my love, I promise.'

'I will adapt,' Sihtric whispered and kissed you, 'but be patient with me, please. I will adapt and I will marry you, I promise, I will be yours. Forever.'

@mrsarnasdelicious @neonhairspray @sihtricsafin @errruvande @penumbrie @lexeirikrleif @diiickbrainn @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @bubblyabs @dixie-elocin @alexagirlie @stupiddarkkside @urmomsgirlfriend1 @gemini-mama @foxyanon @man-i-be-that-pretty-motherfuckr @thenameswinter99 @m-a-s-h-k-a @superblyzanynight @hernakedmuse @ewanmitchellfanatic @lady-targaryens-world @cosmosnkaz

[mrnightingale]

Charles Rowland Week #7

Free day: Ophelia - @charles-rowland-week

I FINISHED. WOOOHOOOO!!!!

Bro I'm so happy and excited and omgomgomgomg I FINISHED. I never get to finish any of the challenges/prompts/dynamics I participate in time bc always something happens but NOT THIS TIME DARLING I'M UNSTOPPABLE!!!

Actually, I think I like the color version even more than the pencil one??? 'Ello??? Me? Proud of my coloring? tHIS LIFE IS AMAZING WHEN YOU GREET IT WITH OPEN ARMS-

(Let's pretend I didn't messed up the water effect and ended up painting it black)

I'd like to eventually do this a proper digital illustration so I can detail more the flowers and fix the water, but I think it looks pretty good??? Like, I'm not a classic painter but the concept is there.

Flowers:

He's holding a White Lily, and has a broken pearl necklace bc of that agerblade's Monty illustration (I'm absolutely obsessed with that one), the little ones around him are Forget-me-not's bc of Edwin's "our deaths didn't matter", they have to matter, there's also Chrysanthemums, who usually symbolize Death, as well as Poppies, that are also symbols of the Greek God Hypnos, personification of Dream and father of Morpheus, so, Sandman Reference with these two, and on the right there are also some Roses and Hyacinths.

Aaaaaand HERE'S THE FULL FINISHED PAGE!!!

I think it looks nice, putting all together and with the same colors and that. I draw the half skeleton half face to complete the last blank space and I really like that one, if there's an Edwin Week I'll do the same mirrored.

Actually I really improved a lot with the coloring, I think I'll use the markers more often. I still don't like the 2 and 3 but I learned from that so it's good, and at the end it doesn't ruin everything as bad as I thought... Maybe. Maybe I'm being too optimistic after 3 hours drawing and editing the pics non-stop.

Fuck, I'm starving. I need sugar. I'll go eat smth, bye bye.

[avelera]

Ideas for different takes on Hob Gadling

I was just musing on Dreamling fic and came up with a list of some Hob-centric things I think would be super interesting to see more of in Dreamling fic. (These are NOT criticisms, these are things I've been ruminating about trying to include in my own works as well!)

Hob who still isn't good at predicting what Dream wants or Dream's moods. Canonically, Hob has gotten impressing Dream wrong almost every time (case in point, his 1589 wealth, 1789 "shipping" and 1889 "offering friendship"). Dream can be more tolerant now post-fishbowl and this concept could even be used for comedy but... yeah. Less "intuitive" "instantly knowledgable" Hob. Hob who still kinda sucks at guessing what Dream wants and gets it wrong at least half the time.

"Old Man Hob" - the guy is technically old enough to be a grandfather (if on average one becomes a grandfather at ~60 throughout time) 11 times over. Even if he doesn't *show* or *feel* his age or get nostalgic for the old days, I think he could be grouchier (see his comic canon self) or more conservative, or just have blindspots that being an old, if progressive (see: professor) white guy would have. Basically, if the IWTV fandom can write snarky Old Man Daniel, I'd be interested to see more of Hob acting maybe not "his" age but more than 30-ish.

Sailor/Maritime Hob - in comic canon at least, sailing and working on ships is the most common job we see Hob have. From the Tudor shipyards up through Hob's Leviathan, he spends a lot of time on boats. (Probably because Hob is at least a little bit the anthropomorphic personification of the English "Everyman" and they are rather famous for their navy, but I digress.) It's just a job I don't think I've seen any fic give him even though it's one of those ones most attested to in comic canon besides printing books.

Materialist Hob - I think there's a lot of evidence that in TV show canon, Hob stopped being as materialistic after Dream didn't show in 1989. Teaching is not a career you go into to get rich. There's also a lot of evidence for Hob that's made more money than he can spend through being immortal so he doesn't have to think about it at all anymore. But I would be curious to see more of Hob who thinks about money as much now as his earlier iterations did (1589, obviously, but 1689 mentions his loss of his gold almost as mournfully as the loss of his family, 1789 is another obvious one, and 1989 has major pro-Thatcher stock trader vibes). I dunno, even a Hob who is trying not to be as obsessive about money and materialism but still can't stop himself from tallying things up, comparing himself with others, checking out ways to get rich quick even if he does't use them, just... a guy who has been a merchant for longer than he was ever a soldier, to the tune of centuries, who is still always making these calculations even if he doesn't act on them (or is trying to impress Dream with more "erudite" pursuits these days). Hell, he could be economics professor for all we know, perish the thought.

[technoturian]

I have been thinking about this a lot. I drafted this and considered not posting it, but I read this post and I kinda wanted to add onto it and at the same time I didn't want to derail it with my own issue. Discussion of Neil Gaiman, fandom, and fatphobia below...

I was not a fan of Neil Gaiman. Not in a way where I disliked him, I just simply didn't engage with his work whatsoever. He was a non-entity to me. But when his big "Sandman" show came out I became aware of a certain incident in his show, namely the fatphobic depiction of the concept of "Despair". In an article about his work I remember Gaiman's characters in the source material had been described as fitting the aesthetic, "heroin chic". This character, Despair, the personification of human misery, was the only fat woman in the main cast.

I saw other fat folks call this out. I saw a direct response from him that, in my opinion, was smug and patronizing. But much more importantly, I saw flocks of people defending not his choice, but him personally. About what a feminist he is. About how thoughtful he is. We just didn't understand his genius. It was a misunderstanding. A misinterpretation. Because that would be bad, and he's not bad, he's good.

Some even went so far as to defend the choice as "better in the source material". You see, in the source material the fat woman personifying human misery was naked! It was better when she wasn't so sad, she simply scurried about like some hateful gremlin, shocking her victims with the grotesquity of her uncovered fatness. Isn't that better?

I researched the character and read a claim that her body was inspired by the Venus of Willendorf. The Venus of Willendorf is a historical artifact of a voluptuous woman. It signifies desire and fertility. Dare I even say, joy. And then someone allegedly saw this artifact and went, "I will name it Despair."

I was offended by reading that, but after doing so I found that I was so much more offended by the response. I mean, it's obvious that this was fatphobia, wasn't it? It was so clearly cut and dry. There was no kinder interpretation. And yet I watched as people bent over backwards, because he was so good! And he made them feel seen and so he couldn't have any prejudices that make that less true. And so when I posted about this whole situation I mainly posted about that response. Because that's what irked me most.

And after that, I decided I wasn't going to be a Neil Gaiman fan on purpose, rather than on accident. When it came to the man himself, I just rolled my eyes and put him into the box of "Not For Me". He could have turned out to be a holy saint in all other ways, for all I knew or cared.

But he wasn't a saint. He turned out to be a rapist.

I'm sorry if this comes across as a gotcha because that's the opposite of my intention. I'm not saying it to derail focus. I'm not trying to make it all about me or my pet cause.

What I'm trying to say is, people will now see things like Despair and take it as a "sign". It's going to be okay now to pick apart his work because now he's a rapist. But I didn't need to know he wasn't a good person to know this person's work wasn't safe for me. And I also knew it wasn't safe to say so, because everyone who tried to talk about how hurt they felt was told how wrong they were to feel that way.

At the same time, it's safe for me to finally vent about how this made me feel now, now that it doesn't matter because he's not good, he's bad actually.

I guess I'm just hoping instead of the usual pattern, where everyone bemoans the fall from grace and debates whether we "should have known" or "couldn't have known", people reading this can try to make space for a middle ground of criticism of the things you love now. Find that gray area somewhere between the top of the pedestal where everything the saint did was with the best intentions, and down in the muck where we should've known he was a rapist all along. Not because saints are secret rapists, but because there are no saints, and most people are there in the middle.

[neversetyoufree]

I've remarked on this blog a few times before that I'm fond of the theory that The Shapeless One is Paracelsus, but I've always hesitated to elaborate, as I felt like there wasn't enough hard evidence that supported this theory being true. However, something recently clicked for me regarding one big parallel between them, and now I can't stop thinking about what that connection would mean for the story thematically.

In mémoire 61, after Machina pushes him to explain what his "plot" is, Teacher declares that he wants to achieve world peace. I've had no idea what to make of this line for a while now, just assuming that we'd need more context to understand what the actual hell he's talking about. But with the Paracelsus comparison, I feel like I'm starting to grasp what's going on there.

[This post needs a VnC-standard warning for mentions of suicide, sexual assault, and child abuse].

There are a few pieces of evidence that support the idea of Teacher being Paracelsus. VnC's Paracelsus is introduced as a great alchemist, just as he was in the real world, and the Count of Saint Germain was an alchemist as well. Nobody knows Teacher's origins, but he's one of the oldest vampires and close with the queen. There's also a little drawing of six-pointed stars that appears behind Paracelsus in the first storybook illustration of him, and those same stars are seen hanging from Teacher's walking stick in the scene where he first meets Noé.

That panel of Teacher and Noé appears at the very end of chapter 6, and the Paracelsus panel appears at the start of chapter 7, meaning these images are quite conspicuously close together.

So what does this mean for Teacher's idea of "world peace"?

In the storybook version of Paracelsus's life, he's described as wanting to alter the world formula not for scientific curiosity, but because he wants to save the world.

Paracelsus, per the childish version that Teacher presents to Noé, caused the Babel Incident because he was trying to "rid the world of its ills" and "guide people to happiness." The line about the human world's "rampant ills" is read over a drawing of dancing skeletons—a Danse Macabre. This is a Medieval way of drawing the personification of death, usually for the purpose of expressing the way that death comes comes for every person inevitably (the same theme later expressed by Vanitas art).

When Paracelsus speaks of the world's ills, this is the reality he seeks to cure. The world is afflicted with suffering and death, and he wants to rewrite the world's formula so that humanity can live happily without that pain.

A world rewritten to be without suffering—isn't that world peace? "World peace" is often used to evoke an end to armed conflict specifically, rather than suffering at large, but the concepts must overlap if they're pursued seriously. How can world peace last if there are people starving in famines or dying of disease? Suffering breeds violence. And how can someone seeking to alleviate "the world's ills" not want to achieve world peace?

If this is true, if Teacher's hope for "world peace" is him carrying on Paracelsus's legacy (or carrying on his own work, if they're the same man), then what does that mean for Paracelsus's supposed altruistic intentions?

We know little about Paracelsus now, only Teacher's recounting of the Babel Incident by way of a book he's reading to a child, but I think there are two ways to interpret what we do know.

Trying to rid the world of suffering is, on its face, the most noble possible intention. To lead the world to happiness is to attempt to help every other person in the world. And I can think of a lot of ways that Paracelsus's goals make absolute sense to me. If you discover that the fabric of reality can be rewritten, and you know that there are people in the world dying of famines, wouldn't you want to reshape the world so that they no longer have to go hungry?

It's possible, depending on what we find out about him in the future, that Paracelsus really will be a noble figure whose one great sin was hubris, and all he wanted from his research was to help the world in ways that make both moral and logical sense.

However, given some of VnC's other themes, I think there's another lens through which we should consider Paracelsus's actions. We don't know exactly what he was trying to rewrite with that disastrous experiment, but that Danse Macabre does give us one possible clue.

One of the themes that VnC has been slowly developing throughout its run is the idea that, though trying to save a person's life is noble, it is not noble to deny all death as a whole. This is a story about the concept of Vanitas, the idea that death is inevitable and that all else is rendered meaningless in its face. Noé feels like he failed Louis because he was unable to kill him when he asked, and it seems like the manga's being set up to end with Noé killing Vanitas to escape a fate Vanitas considers worse than death. One big part of what makes Mikhail so unsettling is his denial, his laughing about his mother's draining and the fact that he cannot accept the reality Luna has died, and Vanitas is horrified to hear that Misha is planning to resurrect their parent. That same issue goes on to be the one thing that finally drives a wedge between Noé and his teacher, as Noé can apparently forgive the man for purchasing him on the black market and killing Louis, but he's horrified to hear that Teacher told Mikhail that resurrecting Luna was possible.

All of these scenes have other elements to them, other things that drive the characters and inform why these specific ideas of undeath are so deeply horrifying to them, but the buildup of this running theme is an undercurrent through all of it. Vanitas means that someday all people must die, so what does it mean when somebody tries to deny that?

Even further, there's the broader horror of both Noé and Mikhail failing to process the bad things that happen to them. Misha commits blithe horrors in part because he does not understand that his sexual abuse was wrong, so he seems to see no problem with sexually assaulting others now in turn—as he does when he pressures Noé to drink his blood. Noé happily recounts being kidnapped and sold on the black market, remarks on Chloé and Jean-Jacques's goodness minutes after Chloé assaults him in his sleep, and brushes off the incident of Jean-Jacques drugging him to the extent that even Jean-Jacques himself is unnerved by it. All of that is deeply concerning behavior.

Misha is written to be obviously uncanny in his denial, and that uncanniness holds up a mirror to the subtler horror of Noé's own disconnects from reality. The more recent chapters have also begun drawing direct attention to the ways that Noé's denial of the bad in the world becomes problematic. The aforementioned scene of Vani, Dante, and JJ being disturbed by Noé's "it doesn't bother me" line does this, as does the long discussion Noé and Vanitas have about why Noé's ignorance of anti-Dham racism upsets Dante so much.

There is an ongoing tension in VnC between the inherent goodness of peace and life and the horror of what comes when those concepts are taken too far. Noé and Vanitas are this in a nutshell: an endlessly clashing duo made up of a too-extreme pessimist and a too-extreme optimist. The story arcs thus far have taken turns challenging each of their worldviews, slowly pushing Vanitas to open up and let himself hope for peaceful solutions, let himself accept love and emotional closeness, while also slowly pushing Noé to confront the fact that sometimes not everything has a happy-making peaceful solution after all. Sometimes "saving" a child means she has to die, and sometimes an enemy will have an entirely sympathetic reason to hate vampires, but Noé still has to fight them anyway to save the people he wants to save, regardless of whether that enemy is "right" or not.

Noé lives in denial of his own past traumas and his own present-day potential for harm. He denies the potential that "good" people he meets might harm him, and he struggles to accept instances where he has harmed others in turn. Dominique and Vanitas go on for pages after the amusement park about how reckless and overly trusting he can be, and he turns around, unable to cope, when confronted with the truth of what he did to Misha with his claws. However, Noé also has the benefit of his proximity to Vanitas knocking just a bit of sense into him, and it might not be a sure thing that he's going to stay in denial-land forever.

One of VnC's specific points of tension is the question of if/how Noé will grow to accept the hard things that currently bounce off his oblivious denial like water off of a raincoat. The end of mémoire 1, the statement that someday he's going to kill Vanitas, suggests that perhaps he might learn to understand how death, despite its pain, is important in its own right. It suggests that maybe he'll come around to no longer denying death and insisting that salvation is always its avoidance.

However, if he can't quite make that leap, the story provides us with dark mirrors to show us what a monster Noé could become by doubling down on his idealistic, optimistic denial. Misha's current state is Noé to an extreme, an innocent child committing horrors as he utterly fails to process the truth of his own horrific early childhood. Misha's driving motivation is a hatred of pain and suffering, and he's willing to do anything to resurrect the family that saved him from that pain in the past.

Then there's also Lord Ruthven, a man who was once an optimist in Noé's own mold, but has since broken bad in a spectacular way. Noé and Ruthven recite the exact same line about liking both humans and vampires, an obvious parallel, but now Ruthven is working with Naenia. Now he's living in the aftermath of his idealistic peace plan imploding and almost costing him his life. Ruthven despairs the last time he visits Gévaudan, lamenting the wrongness of his naive past hopes for understanding, and now he's working toward some unknown end involving Naenia, Charlatan, and the Queen. Now he's committing horrors of his own, biting at least three people by force, overriding their wills, and associating with the being that steals innocent people's true names.

There's also the question of what the hell Ruthven is doing with the queen. It seems he was somehow involved with Faustina devolving to her current state, and Loki references "smashing up her corpse," so it's possible Naenia's existence may be a sign that Ruthven wants or wanted her dead and/or cursed. However, the shots of him with the Faustina-like body in the tank at the end of mémoire 18 suggest there's a chance that he could instead be involved with some form of resurrection scheme (or a scheme to preserve/save her if she's not yet fully dead).

Ruthven exists in part to demonstrate the ways that an idealist like Noé can go bad, and it's possible that he, like Misha, is attempting some sort of awful resurrection, once again denying the reality of death.

Then, finally, there's one more character with whom Noé has these sorts of obvious parallels. The man who, perhaps, is also meant to represent what Noé could become if the dangerous sides of his optimism aren't reigned in: his teacher.

Noé is fascinated by Vanitas, drawn to him out of care and connection, but also because he wants to observe and understand him to sate his curiosity. In a darker mirror of the same trend, we see Noé's teacher allow Louis, Noé, Domi, and Misha to come to harm at least in part for the simple enjoyment of seeing how they react when placed in dark new situations. Noé and his teacher are also the only crimson vampires we know of who find the Blue Moon beautiful and alluring, rather than a source of fear (assuming that Teacher is a normal crimson vampire).

Noé was raised by this man; his worldview has been shaped by him in countless ways big and small. Noé was already living in cheerful rejection of trauma before The Shapeless One found him, but he could not have remained so radically detached from the painful parts of the world around him if his teacher had not wanted and allowed him to do so. He censored Lord Ruthven out of Noé's education, and he apparently did the same with anything that discussed (or expressed) severe bigotry toward Dhampirs. How else did Teacher shape him, and to what goal?

We know that the Shapeless One taught Noé how to fight. Given that "world peace" line, I wonder if perhaps he may also have taught him his morals on wanting to avoid conflict.

Teacher is a contradiction. He talks about "world peace," but he blithely leads Louis to his doom and supposedly doesn't hesitate to half-kill anyone who calls him by the wrong name. Marquis Machina calls him an incomprehensible natural disaster for this reason. Yet, despite all his rampant cruelty, I'm beginning to think that he might be just as much of a dangerous optimist as his student.

Teacher is defined by the fact that, in every scene, he always seems to look like he's having fun. There's hardly been a single panel where he's not drawn smiling. Sometimes that fun is vicious, a cruel smile made as a threat to Vanitas when he fails to address him by his name, but just as often, his aura seems horrifically innocent. He's just a man with a sweet smile and rather dull eyes having a very good time with life.

In the past I've largely looked at this smile as an extension of Teacher's sadism. He toys with Louis and Noé for the fun of it, and I took his smile as an expression of his cruel enjoyment of the pain he creates in his wake. However, now that we've seen him interact with Machina, now that we've observed him speaking casually with a peer for an extended period, there seems to be a disturbingly sincere quality to him as well.

Based on how he's portrayed in mémoire 61, when Teacher says he does everything he does for the sake of "world peace," I honestly think I believe him. I don't believe that he's not a villain—I can't guarantee that his vision of "world peace" would even align with a normal person's definition of "peace" or "happiness," but I believe that he's speaking some version of honestly here.

There's an honest to goodness optimism in that ever-present smile. There's a hope and a genuine quality to what he announces to Machina, in contrast to his smiles of sweetly cruel schadenfreude.

So perhaps, if all that is true, if Teacher is another dark mirror to Noé and he really does want to bring about world peace, then the point of him is that "world peace" has the potential to be a horror. What is the pursuit of world peace if not the ultimate pipe dream of every idealist in the mold of Noé and Ruthven? And what is VnC if not a long catalog of the horrors that idealists can bring about if they aren't careful?

And that, finally, brings me back to Paracelsus and the Danse Macabre.

Depending on what Paracelsus wanted to achieve through his experiments, it's possible he may have been yet another character trying to escape the harsh reality of death. The line about the world's "rampant ills" is placed over the Danse Macabre, after all—a symbol of death's universal inevitability. Is that the painful ill that Paracelsus wanted to address by rewriting the world formula? Inescapable death itself?

If so, Paracelsus becomes the ultimate embodiment of what happens when one denies death's certainty and the necessity of that certainty. He's the ultimate denial of "Vanitas" and what it represents on a scale far larger than Noé, Misha, or even Ruthven could grasp. And the manga casts his failed experiment as a Tower of Babel, throwing the world into chaos and causing countless deaths in his failure's wake.

Meanwhile, Teacher seems to have some ideas about how to cheat death in the present day, as he's promised Misha that there's a way to bring "The Vampire of the Blue Moon" back to life. This could be a lie, of course, or he could be planning to bring back "the vampire of the blue moon" in a way that does not actually bring back Luna as an individual. However, even trying to bring back the Blue Moon in some other way, perhaps through the human Vanitas, still represents him trying to restore something he found beautiful that was lost because of death. It still ties him thematically to the perversion of death as an ending, the same as Mikhail and Ruthven.

So far every character we've seen that wants to undo death is cast as an antagonist. Ruthven, Mikhail, and The Shapeless One are all united by a cruelty and a perverseness in various forms, and their goal is part of this. Death is a tragedy, but although trying to save the lives of people who want to live is noble, attempting to undo or eternally escape death is a far worse horror.

If Teacher is Paracelsus, or if they're closely connected in some other way, then that serves to further this point and show how the horror of escaping death extends to Paracelsus as it does the others. Teacher is strange and cruel. Paracelsus might be a nobly hubristic historical fool in a storybook, but if these two characters are connected, that instantly reveals the unsettling truth of how wrong Paracelsus's potential attempt to thwart death would have been. Nothing Teacher is working for can be wholly good.

And, just as Noé and Misha's denial is both present and harmful beyond the most severe subject of death, even if Paracelsus wasn't trying to craft a world without death by altering the world formula, we know he was trying to create a world without suffering. Again, this is a noble goal in theory, but so long as death remains, some suffering will remain as well. Crafting a world without pain and suffering can also go much too far, can slip into denial and cruelty. Mikhail's whole motivation as an antagonist is his search for a life without pain, and look where that's led him.

A rejection of all suffering can be an extremely dangerous thing, whether it's running from one's own mental pain or wanting to rewrite the world to negate all suffering as a whole. This dream will never not be a detachment from reality.

The Case Study of Vanitas is a series that seems to be searching for a balance of optimism and pessimism, a way to approach the harsh realities of life that lies between the toxic extremes embodied by Vanitas and Noé. To lapse too far into hopeless pessimism creates a Vanitas, a Chloé, an Astolfo. It creates people who are suicidal, genocidal, or both, and dangerous to themselves and others for it. However, to go through life in a state of eternal joy without processing one's pain, or to attempt to create a world wholly free of suffering—that is just as dangerous and foolish. What are Noé, Misha, and Ruthven if not dangers to themselves and others? What is Teacher if not the most dangerous man in this manga?

Noé and Misha are unsettling because they smile through the bad things that happen to them and act as though they aren't bad. They each have some exceptions to this rule—Louis's death for Noé and the pain suffered at the hands of Moreau for Misha—but they still come across as at times disconnected from the reality of pain.

Yet, neither of them is as disconnected from the reality of pain as a man that can behead the grandson he raised with a smile on his face. Noé as a child sees the fun in being kidnapped and put up for auction. Teacher, if his smile is to be believed, sees the fun in every single thing we've seen him do, and that's what's so unsettling about him. He genuinely seems to be having a good time, including and especially when he's blithely committing horrors for the fun of it.

Noé and Misha's strange behavior stems from trauma, and we don't know that's the case for Teacher. Perhaps not, as he seems much colder and crueler in his tendencies than either of them. But either way, the happy sincerity displayed by both of them is echoed in the face of the Count of Saint Germain as he tells Machina that he's searching for world peace. That is the face of someone idealistic, someone who believes he's working toward a real goal that both justifies and delights him.

Teacher wants world peace, and his warped nature means that we have no real idea what "world peace" means to him. Is a world at peace a world where he still gets to violently beat people who get his name wrong? A world where he still gets to have fun observing the free will and choices of the traumatized children he raises? Maybe he once believed in a world that was truly without suffering, and his overly-long life and mad optimism have eroded his tether to reality, turning him into the awful person we see now. Maybe the catastrophe of the Babel incident broke him and turned him from a hubristic idealist to warped echo of his former self. Maybe he somehow thinks all the suffering he causes is justified if it's in pursuit of his noble end goal. Maybe his version of "world peace" is a world where all people can live free from the fear of death, and the smaller pains caused along the way are irrelevant in the face of that impossible dream.

Or maybe he's just a cruel hypocrite.

In the end, we still know too little about both Paracelsus and Teacher to make any grand proclamations about the truth of their characters. However, I can't unsee this connection between them now that I've seen it. Teacher is one of Noé's dark mirrors, a character that represents the horrors possible when one goes too far down his current emotional path. Noé is optimistic to a fault, convincing himself to see only the best in many truly awful scenarios, and Teacher is the man with an eternal smile printed on his face. Noé loves and wants to save Vanitas, and Teacher speaks of the Blue Moon's ultimate beauty and says he has a way to bring them back to life now that they're dead. Noé is the eternal savior, always desperate to prevent people from dying, and Teacher claims that everything he does is done in the name of achieving world peace.

Similarly, Paracelsus is defined by throwing the world into chaos and horror due to his over-optimism. He tried to go too far, tried to rid humanity of its countless ills and create his own form of world peace, perhaps even tried to rewrite the reality of death. Did he hate pain and cold like Misha? Did he want to stop unjust wars like Ruthven? Did he want to become a savior in the image of Noah?

If Teacher's goal of "world peace" is to be believed, then whether or not Teacher and Paracelsus are actually the same person, they represent the same thematic extreme. Death is inevitable, says the concept of Vanitas. It's inevitable and Noé must learn to accept that fact before he does something awful in the name of pain and death's prevention. Teacher and Paracelsus have both done something(s) awful in the name of pain and death's prevention. Teacher and Paracelsus have followed Noé's path of optimism to such an extent that they, in one way or another, both claim(ed) to want to save the world, and this requires a mad extreme of Noé-like cognitive dissonance and hubris.

Paracelsus pursued some goal, some way of granting humanity happiness that was supposedly noble but still murky in its specifics, and he warped the fabric of reality and caused the countless disasters of the Babel Incident in the process. And that's assuming the storybook is true, and Babel really was accidental on his part. Meanwhile Teacher has warped the seemingly noble dream of world peace into something that he can claim is served by the way he's tormented Louis, Misha, and Noé. There's a chance that both men tried or are trying to undo the reality of death. They're bound by the same underlying current of scientific curiosity intermingled with their dreams of world peace.

Noé is not an alchemist, and he's not particularly skilled at rewriting the world formula. He's unlikely to have any chance to rewrite the fabric of reality itself for the better. He's unlikely to have any chance to achieve "world peace" by any definition.

Noé is, however, a dangerous optimist who has not yet learned that death is unavoidable. He hasn't yet learned that death can be preferred to its alternatives. And he was raised by a man who seems like he has not learned or does not care that disrupting Death in the grand sense will inevitably lead to horror. Or perhaps a man who enjoys horrors and wants to toy with absolute death as a part of that. And all this in a world warped and defined by the folly of a man who may also not have understood the horror of evading death.

So Teacher might be Paracelsus. I think this connection between them only strengthens the odds of that theory being true. But even if he isn't, they represent a similar thing for Noé and for the manga's themes at large. You cannot rid the world of the Danse Macabre, and attempting to end that dance will only bring greater ills and greater pain than death on its own could ever hope to bring.

A strange and dangerous man proclaiming with an honest smile that he wants to bring about world peace does not make him any less strange or dangerous. Depending on his definition of world peace and his idea of death's place in it, that idealistic goal may actually make him far more dangerous than if he were nothing more than a simple sadist.

[orbch]

people talking about analogical and being like “their identities balance each other out really well” and im like NO KIDDING!!!! 😂🤣

anways heres an essay about their storylines and how they mirror each other

(everything im about to say is very mentally unconstructed and thought up in a 3am haze. and also i feel like all of my thoughts abt sasi are stagnant and surface level so please argue with me if you think im wrong..) (also these ideas have likely already been written a bajillion times. but let me do it anyway LOL)

^ with that being said i feel the need to set a definition on what makes sasi sides “dark sides” and “light sides” because like,, to me the only difference between them is the means in which they get the rest of the sides to listen to them

obviously.. none of the sides are actively trying to be evil. or trying to hurt cthomas on purpose. OBVIOUSLYY. because why the hell would they want to do that? they are all literally That Guy, and all of the sides have their own personal goals for thomas that they want him to follow. this is like. the plot. and very known information..

but remus, janus, and formerly virgil are the “dark sides”… like what? because janus manipulated and pretended to be the other sides because thats the only way he could get the others to really listen to and consider his ideas of self preservation and prioritization? and virgil would actively terrorize the others and thomas to get him to be anxious about the stuff virgil believed it was IMPORTANT for him to be anxious about? and remus. listen remus is a whole lot of “being awful for the sake of being awful” but evidently in DWIT he has a strong attraction to the idea of infamy and legacy. so even he is sort of looking out for thomas in. uhm. his own way i guess…

so obviously we know virgils storyline was;

purposely scare the others to get them to see situations from his point of view -> always get insulted and pushed away for being a “pessimist” (its his entire purpose) -> “duck out” and leave thomas and the others to discover the negative affects of zero anxiety -> only after that, finally become recognized as an important aspect of thomas

tw: mention of suicide [not in detail] (and on that note, i think its a little morbid that the light sides only fully realized virgils worth and objective after he attempted the sanders sides equivalent of suicide (which you can NOT convince me isnt what the concept of “ducking out” is. they are all metaphysical personifications of instinctual human traits. what the hell are they gonna do? become real and walk out of the house? bffr))

and whats logans journey?

be considered the [reasonable problem solver] of the group -> be placed in a MULTITUDE of situations where the range of solutions are emotions v. emotions v. emotions and suddenly be considered “cold hearted” and “uncaring” for your objective view points -> get excluded from discussions and ignored when you try and help in the only way you know how -> ???

i (and most of the fandom) fully believe logan (ESPECIALLY after WTIT) is going to start resorting to some pretty drastic measures to be acknowledged by the rest of the sides + thomas. some actions that are likely incited by a “dark side” (nudge nudge the orange guy nudge nudge). and if the harshness of the measures he takes in order to be listened to is all it takes for the rest of the dark sides to be considered “dark sides” in the first place. then uhh well… well!!!

but anyways yeah. yeah. logan and virgil kinda have mirrored character development and that is so fucking interesting. virgils path from dark to light and logans path from light to dark… sighhh.. good stuff