#Not saying hes the reason that demons are depicted as red

[bogunicornart]

Older refsheet done of my character Irobas! Still like this ref, even though now I think I see a few things I'd want to update for sure in future refs.

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[cobragardens]

The Colors of Crowley

Black is the color Crowley uses to cover himself, red is the color that represents Crowley to himself, and yellow is the color that represents Crowley to Aziraphale. What each color symbolizes and how it's used give us important information about Crowley (and to some degree Aziraphale) and about the ineffable relationship.

I feel kind of dumb writing this post because I'm sure it's glaringly obvious to everyone else, but there's this Metro UK article of all things (the Metro is owned by the hardcore rightwing Daily Mail, btw, so please don't link to it) that mentions the red stitching on Crowley's gloves in 1867, and it made conscious some details I had only subconsciously noted, so fwiw to anybody else, here are my notes on the colors associated with Crowley in Good Omens and their significance in the context of the way each one is used.

I don't think we need to cover black-as-evil in Western color symbology. [And yet here's a long-ass paragraph about it anyway! --Ed.] Light:dark::good:evil has been a thing with Christianity since before Christianity was even Judaism. The Israelites picked it up from the Zoroastrians way back before YHWH had subsumed El as 'God,' which may have been before they were Israelites as well; I mean it was a LONG time ago. Good Omens has been using black and white to represent Hell and Heaven, respectively, long before the show. In the UK, the book was published in paperback with a choice of black or white cover with an illustration of the contrasting character in the contrasting color: Crowley illustrated in black, Aziraphale in white. The current hardcover is grey.

Crowley wears black, and the Bentley is black. At the metanarrative or authorial level this is obviously for the purposes of the black/white demon/angel contrast, but on the intra-narrative level, the Watsonian level, it's interesting to note that Crowley doesn't have to wear black. He's obviously not free to choose from the full color palette, but Furfur's shirt and sash are is dark emerald green, Dagon is in ultramarine (as befits a marine Elder God), and Shax has only been on Earth for four years before she's wearing head-to-toe oxblood. When she shows up later in battle dress she's got a lot of oxblood there, too. And yet Crowley wears black.

Authorial reasons aside, black suits Crowley for a couple intra-narrative reasons. For much of history, black was the most expensive color to dye and maintain in clothing, and as a result it has always been fashionable. And for several centuries in Christendom, wearing black was also a sign that you were in mourning, which was a social and religious obligation when someone close to you died. Whether you could wear other colors with it depended on how long ago that death had occurred.

Again: black is what Crowley chooses to cover himself, and as there is a sharp distinction between how Crowley presents himself to fulfill his obligations and who he thinks of himself as being, there is likewise a distinction between the colors that represent those two quantities as well.

Red is the color the show uses to represent Crowley to Crowley. The most obvious reason is his hair. This is another change from Book Omens, where Crowley is described as having hair that is "dark." A lot of fans in the UK hated the change when S1 came out because fans hate change and the British have a thing against gingers, but Crowley's red hair suits him better than dark imo because the Mother of Demons in Jewish religious literature, Lilith, is traditionally depicted with red hair. Red hair has been associated for more than a millenium in the Middle East and England and Wales with sorcery, witchcraft, demonic influence/possession, and satan-worship.

Crowley wishes his mom was this cool with snakes.

A good case can be made that Crowley genuinely likes the color red in addition to considering it demonically appropriate. I say this for three reasons. Firstly, because when he has a (limited) choice of (again, demonically appropriate) colors, he always chooses red. The marble of the desk in his apartment is not green or grey. He can have any color stitching on his gloves or lining of his jacket collar he wants, but it's always red. Secondly, it's not only red he chooses, it's almost always bright red.

We know Crowley's red isn't supposed to represent blood or violence, because we have another demon character whose use of red represents just that, and it's not the same red:

Compare Shax' oxblood and burgundy to

and

and

and

Crowley's red isn't just red, it's lipstick, cherry, crimson red. And in case we weren't sure that we should read this red as symbolizing passionate, romantic love:

Romantic symbolism aside, bright red is also the color of passion (romantic or otherwise), optimism, heat, vitality, life, (hell)fire, and warning.

Red and black says don't fuck with Jack.

The third reason I think we can safely say that Crowley actually likes the color red is that he hides it. It's always tiny little touches, some of which you have to look for to see. (I still don't know where they snuck in the red on his Elizabethan habit, e.g.) And we know this color is a risk for him, and that he is right to hide it, because Ligur, who doesn't approve of any of Crowley's less-than-fully-demonic embellishments and may share Hastur's opinion that Crowley has gone native, comments on one of Crowley's more noticeably colorful items.

And I think the red tells us one more thing about Crowley, too.

Bright red is the colorest of colors, you know? When we can choose only one color to represent all colors, to represent colorfulness itself, we choose bright red (even in cultures where red symbolizes other meanings than it does in Western art).

Remember how Aziraphale gives Crowley's jacket a tartan collar when he swaps bodies with Crowley and impersonates him in Hell because Aziraphale feels the need to maintain some small secret token of his identity, some tiny unremarked sign of something he loves and thinks is beautiful, when he is down there alone in the gloom among enemies?

Crowley is down there alone among enemies every second of every day and night, whether he's in Hell or on Earth. And he's already had his identity stripped from him once. If you were someone who said

about this

and then you got recruited by the fash downstairs bc the fash upstairs threw you out for not being fashy enough and you had to start wearing nothing but dark colors and more importantly had to hide everything that made you feel warmth or softness or joy, and that was it, that was the deal for eternity, but you could add one (1) little touch to everything you wore to remind yourself that there is some beautiful part of you left, something you loved once, that no one has yet been able to steal or brutalize out of you...what color would the stitching on your gloves be?

Lastly, Yellow represents Crowley to Aziraphale. I'm going to skip the chain of evidence for this bc I think it's obvious, but the way it's used also lends itself to some inferences supported in other areas in the show.

Here's where I think changing Crowley's hair to red from Book Omens' dark is a good decision in another way. Crowley always has red hair, and if he has any color in his clothes it's going to be red. Red is eye-catching; it always stands out, but it doesn't stand out as demonic. And yet the color Aziraphale associates with Crowley and calls "pretty" isn't red.

I suspect that when Aziraphale says he can make Crowley an angel again, Crowley hears "You're not good enough for me to accept you as you are, let me fix you" because these are words Aziraphale has said to him many times, and has meant some of those times. But

tells the audience differently. The color Aziraphale associates with Crowley, the color he calls "pretty," is the color of Crowley's only overtly demonic feature. Aziraphale doesn't love the angel he knew who isn't Crowley, he loves Crowley, the demon, the person he is now, his yellow demon irises.

Yellow appears in three other places in S2, and they're all symbolically significant, and in fact serve to establish another symbolic significance to the color yellow in addition to that of Yellow Is the Color of My True Love's Eyes.

One of them is a feather duster:

Crowley reacts to a feather duster like a cat confronted by an unfamiliar object

The other three are private conversations between Aziraphale and Crowley:

The walls that surround Crowley and Aziraphale when they speak openly about their situation and how they will handle it are drenched in yellow, and that is super interesting, because in Western color symbolism yellow is the color of fear. The archangel of whom Crowley and Aziraphale are both (rightly) terrified wields a tool the color of fear. The color of fear saturates the backdrop of conversations between Aziraphale and Crowley when they have to discuss their situation and their actions openly.

Remember how Aziraphale's voice shakes here?

Crowley realizes the crows have just handed an angel evidence the angel can take to Hell and use to have Crowley killed

Even the Bentley, that clear sign of Aziraphale's love for Crowley, is also a yellow coffin enclosing him. For Aziraphale, thoughts of Crowley are always entangled with fear, because Crowley is not just Crowley, he is also Crowley's Fall.

And I think fear is what Crowley's eyes themselves represent. For Crowley, fear is now a fundamental part of his perception, his nature, his identity.

The angel Aziraphale once knew is not Crowley, and yet from what we've seen, the chiefest difference in character between this sweetheart and this mischief-maker--

--is that the Starmaker does not know yet that he should be afraid, and the Serpent does. That knowledge and its fear has, shall we say, colored his view of the world.

Aziraphale learns that fear early by observing others rather than Falling himself, and knows enough that by the first time we meet him in the Before, he is already afraid.

Pink was once symbolically equivalent to red; in modern Western color symbology it is a color of innocence, youth, beauty, and first love. Hashtag just sayin'.

The cruellest thing this suggests to me is that, rather than rebellion or his propensity to ask questions, rather than the knowledge of good and evil, the Starmaker's Fall was caused by his innocence. it wasn't the questions that were the problem: it was that he didn't know any better than to speak them out loud.

Y'all, Crowley and Aziraphale do not suffer from communication problems. Despite both being male-coded and British, they don't even seem to lack emotional intelligence. What they do have is a universe of silence and fear they have to communicate within and around. What they lack is the safety to speak and love freely. The true color of Crowley is crimson, but someone gave him those eyes, and Aziraphale either watched that happen or knew about it, and now Crowley covers himself in black--which btw is also the symbolic color for mystery and secrets--and only lets Aziraphale see him as he really is now, because Aziraphale won't judge him for his yellow eyes (or punish and forsake him for his questions). Because Aziraphale carries that fear with him too.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats

[ruiniel]

What You Choose

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader

Count: 2K

Rating: T (M later)

On AO3

Summary: I recently watched/read KNY and have emotions. Likely done before, but wanted to get this out of my system so wrote it down. Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.

Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, multichapter, blood, injury, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, alternating POV, Oblivious Rengoku Kyojuro, for a while at least, Death, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut

All characters depicted are 18+

I.

Everything fades. His body is going numb, his vision blurs as he stares down at his reflection in the dark pool of his own blood, unable to lift his head. The cries of grief surrounding him become dim and scatter like dying leaves from his consciousness.  

I've done my duty, I've given my all.

The last he remembers is a small, clawed hand and a sudden, blooming flame bursting through his shattered torso, scalding him from within in ways his own fire never could. 

I see... So this is what it feels like… to burn. 

The balmy weather outside has no effect on you, seated at the side of the infirmary bed, your head in your hands. 

“Perhaps you should go and rest. There’s been no change, and we’ll be sure to inform you of any developments.” 

Aoi’s words are void of their usual sternness. You’ve heard them before, and yet—

“I’m fine, I really am.” You gaze back at the prone figure lying motionless beneath crisp white sheets. His gold and crimson hair is messy, and you’ve never seen him so pale, his features so sunken. The bandage covering his left eye is stained red in places, the usually smiling lips dry and bloodless.

Aoi sighs but says nothing else, and soon her departing steps echo against the walls.

I can’t. I can’t leave his side. You wish your thought could reach him, down to whatever place he’s struggling in now. You ball your hands into fists over your knees, a poor attempt at holding your composure. Please, come back. Please.

Weeks have passed since the mission on the train, since your group has returned with wounded bodies and spirits, though none in such a critical state as your mentor. Rengoku Kyojuro has not awakened since, and in contrast, since the nightmares the demon has placed upon you in that baleful encounter, you’ve not been able to sleep more than two to three hours every night. Every time, waking up in a sweat, the memory of what happened always the last image you remember. 

“How is he today?”

You’re drawn from your thought by the gentle voice of the person you feel like you owe a life of debt to, and turn to gaze into the tired, worried eyes of Tanjiro Kamado. He stands by the bed now, glancing down at the Hashira. The slow rise and fall of his chest is the only sign that he is still alive. 

You shake your head as Tanjiro takes a seat. “How is rehabilitation training going?” 

Tanjiro smiles, still staring at the bed and its unresponsive occupant. “Almost done, I feel my strength returning to what it used to be and more. I admire how well you’ve upheld yourself, though,” he murmurs. 

It’s true, for some reason, you’ve been the least scathed of them all, needing much less medical care than the rest. No, you know the reason why. “It’s because of him,” your words escape you. “If… if he hadn’t trained me as he did, if he hadn’t driven me so far beyond my limits, I don’t know if I would have survived for as long as I have in my role.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard. They say Lord Rengoku’s methods are… harsh to say the least.”

A smile tugs at your lips as a known pain pricks your heart. “But… but I’ve been remiss in thanking you, young Kamado—or rather, your sister. If she hadn’t…”  Your throat tightens; you don’t want to break down, not here, not before Tanjiro and not before him, no matter he can’t hear it. 

“Please, please don’t worry, it was a stroke of luck and quick thinking on her part, I only brought the box closer—”

“... she healed him! I saw the flames engulfing him, I saw the wound close. I don’t know how she did it but… Nezuko is someone... very special.”

Tanjiro lowers his head in humble acknowledgement. “I will tell her.” Then, as though remembering something, he reaches into his pocket and hands you a small bag. “Here, I’ve not seen you join meals very often and… well, please take them.”

You don’t have the strength to refuse, and take the bag from his hand, meeting his kind smile. “Candies…”  You thank him before placing them on the bedstand, and after a few more moments of sitting in comfortable silence, Tanjiro takes his leave. You watch him depart, endeared by his manner and honesty. He has a good soul, a strong will—perhaps the strongest you’ve known, apart from…

You stare back at your mentor, memories of the past flooding behind your eyes.

Five months prior

“Good! Again!”

You’re panting, your total concentration breathing nearly failing as you evade another deadly arc of the Third Form: Blazing Universe. 

The sun has westered and a bluish twilight sets over the lands, but your mentor still has you parrying his unwavering techniques, before making you attack using combinations of them in turn. 

“Lord—lord Rengoku—”

His blazing speed cuts your words short as your blades clash, and you stare into bright, golden-rimmed irises. He’s smiling, as usual, with a devilish spark in his eyes. There is a sudden flutter in your stomach, overriding the fatigue in your burning muscles. “Come now, don’t tell me you’re beat! You’ve come so far after only three years!” he says as you fall back, lunging for another attack the following second.

The sudden weakness you feel when you’re close to him has you confused, because it was not there before. It all began in the past year: whenever he stares at you in a certain way, whenever he touches you during training or meets your eyes, something gnaws achingly at your chest. It’s as though you need something from him, but have no idea what it is. 

“I knew it from the moment I took you on as a successor,” he says, merciless in his offensive. “If you—” Parry. Lunge. “—carry on like this—” Attack. Jump. “—you’ll reach a Hashira level of skill in no time at all!” 

You don’t have the chance to reply, though his words feel like honey coating your senses. At first, he’d been sparse and strict, keeping to instructions and nothing else. But you struggled, worked harder than you had for anything in all your life, and it seems he acknowledges this fully now. 

“Now—Ninth Form: Rengoku!” 

That means you must attack, and he must deflect. But—Ninth Form?! “I—I can’t, I’m… I’m too exhausted for the Ninth!”

He bursts forward with Unknowing Fire, forcing you to duck and curl your body, rolling away into the dust, rising on one knee. 

The Flame Hashira turns, pointing his weapon at you. “Is that what you plan on telling the demons?”

“Well, no, but—”

“At no point during a battle will you have the luxury of biding your time. If this were an actual encounter, you’d be dead.” He no longer smiles, his face turned cold, eyes glinting like molten steel.

You feel the rush of shame like fangs biting into you, fueling a horrible need to prove him wrong, to rise up to the challenge in his voice. With a hiss and a groan you grip the handle of your katana tightly, breathing and striving to light that spark in your heart. 

With a cry you speed forward, clashing with him in a desperate lunge. 

“Ha!” The smile returns as you grit your teeth. “Better!”

His face is so close to yours again, so close you feel the rush of his breath on your cheek. 

Your knees feel weak again, and you close your eyes, pushing forward in an attempt to skew his balance. 

What the hell is happening to you? 

“Faster, the fire is still weak! It must rage!” the Hashira says, grinning like a madman now, and where once you enjoyed the path of learning and reaching your full potential, now his attitude brings forth an ache that confuses you and leaves you anxious.

Even so. Your blades sing against each other as you lunge back in a high jump, landing in a lowered stance with one palm braced against the earth. Your uniform is wet on your back, and you’re closer to your breaking point than you've ever been.

But the thought of disappointing him, now that feels unbearable. So you do what you always do: you push yourself more, more, harnessing all your strength into one melting core, bathing your heart in it and firing up your veins. 

You attack.

He laughs outright. “Not bad, but—” Your swords clash, fiercer than before. “I know you can do better, and you can be faster.”

“I’m doing all I can!” you yell, at the end of your tether now. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. But he takes no offense, he never does, and that's one of the things you appreciate about him. “But you—you make it impossible! You always want more, even if you know I’m not ready for it!”

It must be the fire rushing through you that has you speaking this way, daring to say such words despite knowing full well what you were in for, when you accepted to become his successor. 

“Wait until you’re ready, and you will never improve!” the Flame Hashira throws back.

A growl leaves your throat as you fall back then speed towards him again, trying the Second then the Third form in succession sloppily but you’re past caring. 

Your arms feel as though they will tear and your bones might splinter as you crash against his unwavering stance, and you meet his scarlet-gold gaze as he speaks softly, his voice imbued with warmth: “You can surpass the impossible. I believe in you.” 

Your eyes widen, that damned ache ringing through your body like a weakening poison and—

For one split second, your stance weakens, and you’re thrown back, losing your balance and falling heavily onto the ground. 

Rengoku stares down at you, tilting his head to the side with a strange look on his face as he sheathes his katana. 

Your vision sways, your lungs might burst. You barely clutch at the helping hand extended to you, aiding you to your feet. He grasps your shoulders. “What happened there just now? Your focus melted like wax.”

“I…” You can’t look him in the eye. His hands on you diffuse heat, permeating through your clothing. It feels good. It scares you. “I don’t… know.”

“Tomorrow, again,” he says, releasing you. “Please do better. Remember we’re doing this for you, but foremost for the people.”

“Understood,” you murmur, biting back tears as you watch him walk away.

Midnight has arrived when you end your reverie, thinking about that emotion that took root in your body and spirit, growing stronger as time passed. And you never dared tell him, never dared facing it nor can you explain why. You take a deep breath, leaned with your arms folded on the edge of the bed, your forehead resting on them. You never told him, and now… 

And now with each day I’m losing hope.

Your shoulders are shaking, and your eyes sting. There is no one else here but you and him, the long chamber of empty beds the only witness to your breakdown. 

You’re so absorbed by despair, you don’t perceive the faint movement, or the hand gently placed on your head.

“... Why are you crying?”

You choke on a silent sob, blinking in shock at the low, throaty voice, broken with disuse. Slowly, you raise your head.

He's staring at you, a bleak smile on his lips, and you're utterly, incomprehensibly frozen.

“You… you’re awake?” It feels like the dumbest of questions: your body knows the truth before your mind catches up. 

“That… depends. Are you really here?” he asks in turn. 

You nod, biting on your lower lip and wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “Yes, yes I am.”

The smile wavers for a moment as he grimaces in pain. “Oh, I see. Then… it seems… you’re not rid of me yet.”

All the gods in all the world couldn’t keep the emotions flooding you at bay, and you shake your head as warm tears flow down your face. 

PART II

[blackphanto]

Trying to overanalyze Lucifer's design

The Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale was fucking insane. I loved everything and especially Lucifer, whom I am dedicating this post to.

Let's begin with his "normal" form

Lucifer wears a ringleader costume bc Hell is one giant circus and he's the ringleader, but did you know that there's actually more to it?

A ringmaster, -mistress or -leader is like the opening act of a circus. They show you around, introduce the other acts and keep you hooked. They are essentially the glue that keeps the circus together. Another definition of a ringmaster, -mistress or -leader talks about an actual leader who leads a group of people, mostly through the act of doing illicit or unlawful activities. A role that would suit Lilith better than Lucifer. Sins could be seen as unlawful activities in Heaven's eyes and Lucifer is the cause of how evil found its way to earth, one could say that he was the one to lead the sinners in their sinful behavior in life. Yet, in death - if we go by Charlie's storybook - Lilith was the one leading the sinners to rise up against Heaven, another illicit activity that has led to their eventual doom.

Luci also wears a top hat with his crown on top of it. The hat gives him some extra height so I doubt that he wears it for any other reason. His crown is mostly covered with a snake and a red apple on the side. The snake can have 2 meanings: 1) how the word 'seraphim' in Hebrew can be translated to 'fiery serpent', due to his six wings, Lucifer is likely a seraph. 2) he was the serpent that tempted Eve, although never confirmed in any religious text, this idea of him being that snake is really popular in every reiteration of that story. This would also be why there's an apple motive following the Morningstars. Now let's move on to...

Angelic/demonic form

I don't think what we are seeing here is his full angelic/demonic form, but considering that the other Princes' forms aren't as scary either it is likely the case. The first thing that caught my attention were the horns and overall resemblance this form has to Charlie's, but let's focus on the differences.

In the first image, the snake and apple have turned into some sort of halo, a nod that his actual halo has disappeared when he fell and unlike Vaggie his wings probably didn't get ripped off, but I do believe they were different to how they were when he was behind the Pearly Gates. He has a tail and horns, classic demon imagery, there are 6 eyes at the end of his coat and there's one more on his bowtie, which makes a total of 8 eyes on Lucifer's design. The eyes are a common returning motive in Heaven and with angels.Luci also has a flame in-between his horns. This honestly reminded me of Baphomet, but they would likely be a Candle head from the Sloth ring. In the Bible, fire is often depicted as the presence of God, but I'm a firm believer that Hazbin has a deistic God view (see my other post), so I doubt that's the case here. The fire was likely chosen because Hell is associated with fire and he's the king of Hell so they thought it would make sense.

Like father, like daughter

As stated before, Lucifer and Charlie share a lot of similar elements. She's essentially him without wings and with longer hair. They both have a red sclera with a yellow iris. Their tail is pitch black with a heart cut out at the end and despite having white skin, Lucifer's arms are greyish. I always thought they were gloves, but no, man's face doesn't match his hands. I really like this shot of them right here, they look so badass!

Charlie also seems to be getting a new ability which has to do with her arm getting bigger and blocking Adam. This might be a callback to whatever was going on with her arm in her first design.

That was it thanks for reading <3

[kindestegg]

Putting together a timeline for the Collector's backstory

Hi!! For the Future just happened!! It was insane!! Anyway as a Collector superfan, fantasy worldbuilding fanatic, and also Collector's actual chosen dad (real, not fake, he revealed this to me in a dream /j), I decided to try and interpret the crumbs we got both from direct and indirect clues in the new episode, as well as tying back to earlier episodes.

I want to start first with the paintings on the Archive halls, which seem to tell a story. I chose to interpret them, from the first shot we see them in, as chronological from left to right, as that usually tends to be how one would read things (at least in the west, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about manga and all that, but I don't think the crew was following manga rules).

Here is a picture of the hallway I am using for reference. This specific shot seems to only have unique paintings aligning (there is an animation quirk that happens later on that makes it not so but I will get to this later), which is why I have elected to extract the timeline from this. Another reason is that, as we will see, the first three pictures definitely seem to fit in a neat chronological order, which would make it hard to doubt the placement of these paintings as being chronological here.

The first seems to depict our Collector, as the smaller one of his species, and three, bigger collectors. For convenience's sake I am in fact choosing to interpret these paintings as being things that happened to him and part of his memories. It makes sense: there is an emphasis on this smaller figure several times throughout the paintings and I cannot think why Collector would put random pictures of some other child collector's life, as well as we have to imagine the crew wanted to tell a story with these, otherwise they would be as random as the sun and moon paintings on the other side of the hall.

So it seems in this first picture, the bigger collectors, perhaps his family, are observing a planet, maybe even the planet the world of the Demon Realm is on.

Here is where I take a detour to add excerpts from the book Collector had King read to him (I should eventually make an analysis post on why Collector wanted this read to him, but all in its due time):

As the book states, collectors, by nature, observe things and then collect them by keeping them in stasis.

Going back to the painting, all indicates that this would show these particular collectors, likely the family of our younger Collector, were interested in the planet the Boiling Isles is on, and this painting depicts the first stage of their plan, observing this planet.

As a quick aside, I would like to say it is likely collectors do know what families are, and they may even form familial bonds and hierarchies. One such nod to this is of course Collector calling Odalia "Mamadalia", but also, this:

It is barely visible, but in a few quick shots you can see the next page of the book. Not only does it seem to use the words "interdimensional" and "dimension(s)", likely referring to the nature of collectors themselves or their residence, but it also uses the word "Family".

So, to recap, three adult collectors, likely our Collector's family, had their sights set on the planet the Boiling Isles is on.

And one of their first contacts was the Titan Trappers.

We now know that despite the resemblance to titans at first glance, titan trappers only wear their skulls and pelts to look like them, making the hunt easier, as well as to, I imagine, indicate pride in their spoils. The indication we have this is not a titan is primarily the spear utilized here, the fact the fur does not match the rest of the body, and the yellow glowing eyes.

I will discuss this further down through showing evidence with the other paintings, but there seems to be a recurring theme in the paintings that depicts the trappers and collectors as always having yellow eyes, whereas the titans are depicted with red eyes.

As Lilith explains further on, books found in the archive detail that a titan's power can actually cancel out the collectors' powers.

She also goes on to say that this why Collector's predecessors (her words not mine) wiped out all the titans.

If such is the case, then that explains why they chose to ally themselves with the trappers. It's likely they needed an intermediator, otherwise they would have not been able to fight the titans full on. In exchange, they likely shared whatever arcane knowledge they could to help in the fights, powering up the trappers.

This would line up perfectly with the trappers' worship of their Grand Huntsman, who as we all know, derives from the Collector and his entire species in aesthetic and looks.

As for why they did not want to risk peaceful contact with the titans besides the reason of their powers being able to be canceled out by titans, there is also the crossed out passage in the book:

Though our Collector declares he tried to "fix" it, we can still clearly see what was originally written, implying that any creature who attempts to stop their work shall meet a deadly end, and maybe even the entire planet will have all of its life wiped out.

So it is likely the titans were not fond of the collectors attempting to collect things in their planet, and fought back, causing the collectors to learn firsthand of their weakness to a titan's power, and to then ally themselves with the trappers.

Which, leads again, to the second painting, depicting two collectors in front of a trapper. The taller one, which I assume is part of our Collector's family, is trying on a skull.

By their side, I will assume is our Collector, due to the smaller stature, and something curious about the body language placed here for him seems to indicate he is examining the skull before putting it on. This could indicate he had an interest on the titans from early on. This will be important later.

As a quick addendum before we move on, I have come to conclude it's highly likely collectors have the ability to change size. In the first painting, the three adults are larger than the entire planet, with our Collector being only a bit smaller than the planet itself. However, in this second painting, the adult is not even as tall as the trapper depicted here, which, if we assume trappers are common witches and demons simply adorned with pelts and skulls just like the modern ones, were not as giant. Similarly, Collector is also way smaller, hence the theory that they change size.

We have seen our Collector possibly changing sizes in canon as well, both in the Owl Beast dream as their hooded figure form seemed massive, and then when they have just broken out of their prison. It's possible collectors scale down their massive size to fit whatever planet they are on.

Next is the third painting, which depicts a familiar scene...

Indeed, this seems to be an almost one to one recreation of the mural we see in Echoes of the Past inside King's castle. We even receive some extra content to it: We now know the titan depicted here had wing like structures on their arms, as well as was protecting an egg, and was accompanied by a smaller, likely juvenile titan.

Notice also how they both have red eyes, but the trapper has yellow eyes.

This all but confirms that the mural is depicting a trapper smithing a titan (whether it is our Titan we do not know for sure), and that the collectors had a hand in this.

Moving on, we have this painting:

Again, going out of the assumption the smaller figure is our Collector, he seems to be approached by four other adult collectors. These collectors however, are slightly different than three he was earlier with: first of all there are four of them, they have no split faces, and their hats are adorned with celestial bodies on their tips. For the sake of convenience I will refer to these as "The Elders", as their difference from our Collector's supposed family, as well as possible authority denoted by their hats, makes me think they are older and more powerful than our Collector's family.

Anyway, The Elders appear to be satisfied with our Collector, one even extending an open palm to them in a friendly gesture. I confess my interpretation of this is more speculative than the other paintings, simply because of the vagueness of it and how it does not seem to tie well into any other pictures or current lore we have.

But my current understanding is that, since one of The Elders is making such a gesture at Collector, they are maybe giving something to them, offering an opportunity. Their authority would certainly denote power above even Collector and his family, so they would likely be able to call the shots in their hierarchy.

Due to this, and considering the next paintings, I have elected to interpret this as The Elders entrusting Collector full control of watching over and collecting things from the planet he and his family had their eyes on. If this happens chronologically after the deal with the trappers as well, this could indicate the Elders have deemed it safe for our Collector to take over.

It also would explain why he calls himself The Collector, he's the designated collector for that planet, the caretaker of this planet and the one meant to observe and collect from it.

Which makes this next painting all the more interesting.

Collector, is surrounded by what seems to be four baby titans. They have their arms up, reaching for him, running to him. Playing. His expression also indicates happiness, eyes wide, hands on his chin, a little smile.

Recall for a moment that in the painting depicting the first contact with the trappers, our Collector had stopped to examine the titan skull. He was interested in them, he wanted to play.

This would align with Collector's "fixing" of the book, going to the lengths of desecrating what is likely an ancient book that dictates/documents the entire culture of his species to ensure his message of playing and friendship is more important.

If we take this painting and the book addition in conjunction, we can come to the conclusion Collector, once left alone, went out of his way to befriend and play with whatever titan babies were left out there. He was likely happy with this, as nothing about this picture indicates a struggle. And once again, these are definitely titan babies due to their eyes being red.

One may be concerned considering the fact the stars here could indicate they are in space, but there are a few counter arguments to this: Collector does not seem to imagine someone could suffocate in space as he suggests people on the moon could just hold their breaths, so this contradicts the idea he would have had experience with this.

The baby titans also seem to have playful body language rather than showing any anguish. And furthermore, when discussing the painting with my boyfriend he pointed out the blue waves could be an abstraction of the shoreline, indicating they were playing on the beach. In short, it is just the simplest explanation this depicts a peaceful scene rather than one with the babies suffocating, as it would not align with the rest of the story here.

There is also the matter of Collector straight up denouncing "the others", which we can only assume refers to the other collectors. It's no wonder he would feel that way, since they were the reason for his new friends' families being all but wiped out, and were less interested in playing with the creatures they observed and rather only preserving them.

Which only makes the present of the Isles and the state of titans and collectors all the more worrying, as well as concerns us with a last, pretty elusive painting...

This is what I meant by animation quirk: Getting a picture of this painting was so hard because it's the very last one in the timeline line up I showed you in that first screenshot, but when the camera zooms in on King and he runs up to get Hooty and we SHOULD get a proper look at it...

... It's pushed back again and the last two paintings get repeated. Which makes me think this is either an animation error, or they REALLY want to make it hard for us to get it.

BUT! After a bunch of rewatches and looking at some slowed down clips again, I was finally able to find the ONE place it repeated, on the scene where Belos!Raine is walking down the halls ominously.

And it is quite the revelation.

This depicts three adult collectors, likely our Collector's parents, staring down menacingly at a titan... perhaps THE Titan this time? It's worth noting this is not the same titan depicted in the painting with the trapper hunting down one that was protecting their egg, as that one had smaller wings and a skull that covered their entire jaw, whereas this one's skull only goes to the muzzle, just like King's does.

Something interesting is that this titan is accompanied either by other very weird looking titans, or these are other creatures that inhabited the Boiling Isles at the time and were also casualties in the collectors' path.

There is also fire surrounding this picture, which makes me think again of the "clear the earth, scorch the air" verse. It's also odd these collectors are approaching the titan(s) despite the fact titan magic could easily push them back, so it could be that they are betting it all on this and going on to cause massive destruction. But the titan seems to be holding up a hand as if gesturing for them to stop, or wait... they're not fighting back like with the trappers. Why?

Well, if this takes place after the painting with Collector playing the baby titans, it's possible these titans had become accustomed to our Collector and did not expect such an attack. It's likely they may have at first understood that this Collector was a child, one that was more interested in playing and befriending them rather than hurting anyone, and cautiously took them in.

Now, whether it was a misunderstanding with Collector's family thinking they were in danger or they were angered by their refusal to hurt titans... we know how the story ends. The titans were all wiped out, safe for King's egg, and Collector was sealed away by King's dad, likely one of the last things he'd ever do.

Overall I think our Collector's backstory is both horrifying and sad. Horrifying because of what his species is capable of, but also sad because despite his efforts to make peace with the titans, it couldn't save them and cost him his freedom. It's no wonder he was so happy to see a titan again, and latched onto King: this is like his second chance.

[mynameisonionhaha]

Matthew Patel Analysis

I would like to say first off, I am not Indian. I am a Mexican kid who just really likes learning about different cultures. If anything in this is incorrect, offensive, or just overall dumb, I would really like to be corrected and would REALLY like to be able to fix it.

I’ve been trying to decipher what the markings on the demon girl’s and Matthew’s foreheads are. The main assumption would be that they are bindis, but that doesn’t sit entirely right with me when you think about what they represent in Indian culture.

For the demon girls, you COULD say that the markings are bindis, and that they are supposed to represent something “marital”, which would then imply that their binding to Matthew is more complicated, but I personally disagree with this for multiple reasons.

Then of course, for Matthew that would be a bit more complicated. Married women aren’t the only ones who use bindi markings of course as they also can have other uses and meanings, such as representing the third eye. Given Matthew’s powers, this would make sense, but it still doesn’t fully fit correctly in my beautiful mind.

The biggest thing that perplexes me is their colors and shape. They aren’t exactly round--they actually seem to be more elongated, like a very thin teardrop. This made me wonder if they were actually supposed to be tilaks instead, which makes slightly more sense to my big brain. This has to do with two main reasons: 1, both men and women can wear it. 2, Shiva and Shakti.

Let’s start with Shakta.

“Shaktas (worshippers of Devi — the feminine manifestation of the Divine) use kumkum to either draw a single red vertical line, or place a red dot, as a symbol of her divine energy and power.”  Source: https://www.hinduamerican.org/blog/5-things-to-know-about-tilak

Shakta is the consort of Shiva, the goddess who is often personified as “Devi”, who acts as the divine feminine to Shiva’s divine masculinity.

“Yoni, (Sanskrit: “abode,” “source,” “womb,” or “vagina”) in Hinduism, the symbol of the goddess Shakti, the feminine generative power and, as a goddess, the consort of Shiva. In Shaivism, the branch of Hinduism devoted to worship of the god Shiva, the yoni is often associated with the lingam, which is Shiva’s symbol. In sculpture and paintings, the lingam is depicted as resting in the yoni as a cylinder in a spouted dish. The two symbols together represent the eternal process of creation and regeneration, the union of the male and female principles, and the totality of all existence. In a myth narrated in several Puranas, the body of Sati, an avatar of Shakti, is dismembered and scattered throughout India. Her yoni falls, and remains, in Assam, regarded as the home of Tantra (esoteric practices).” Source: https://www.britannica.com/topic/yoni 

These statements already clear up the shape, color, and meaning behind the girl’s markings. They are the feminine consorts to Matthew Patel and his escapades. Personally I really like this for multiple reasons, the biggest being that it makes their dynamic significantly more wholesome. This article, https://hridaya-yoga.com/blog/yoni-puja/, talks about the yoni tantras and overall adoration and respect for women. While Matthew and his girls don’t interact together much in terms of actual conversation, the general case seems to be that they are protective, uplifting, and devoted to him, while in return we see that they are treated with respect and not once does he ever see them as lesser or treat them as such. (This could be countered with the fact that they do get put in harm's way a lot, but given that they seem to be able to respawn just fine it probably isn’t an issue and something they are willing to do for him anyways.)

With that, let’s talk about Shiva.

“Shiva meaning “The Auspicious One” is one of the three major deities of Hinduism. He is worshiped as the Supreme God within Shaivism, one of the three most influential denominations in contemporary Hinduism and is also called “the Transformer and the Destroyer”.” Source: https://www.templepurohit.com/shiva-worshipped-form-linga-lingam/#google_vignette 

Matthew and Shiva have lots of things going on, which personally I find really freaking cool. He literally summons what appears to be the trishul, which is Shiva’s trident. How dope is that?? 

“The Trishul, also known as the trident, is the primary weapon of Lord Shiva. It is characterized by three sharp blades connected by a long handle. The three blades always point in the upward direction. Shiva is always found to be holding the handle of the Trishul when he is depicted in the saguna linga form. The three blades have various representations in Hindu mythology.” Source: https://servdharm.com/blogs/post/significance-of-shivas-trishul#:~:text=The%20Trishul%2C%20also%20known%20as,in%20the%20saguna%20linga%20form.

When it comes to the actual symbol on his forehead however, that becomes more difficult. I wondered if he was Shaiva (Shaiva meaning “follower of Shiva”), and that was what the symbol meant, but I couldn’t find anything regarding his specifically.

“Shaivites (worshippers of Shiva), for example, smear their foreheads with three horizontal lines of vibhuti, a sacred white ash that acts as a reminder of the temporary nature of the material world. Made of the burnt dried wood from Hindu fire rituals, the three lines of vibhuti are called tripundra, and represent Shiva’s threefold powers of will, knowledge, and action. Tripudra is also frequently worn with a dot made of kumkum (a powdered red turmeric) in the center, symbolizing the creative and energetic force of the Divine known as the Goddess Shakti.” Source: https://www.hinduamerican.org/blog/5-things-to-know-about-tilak 

Interestingly enough, the tripundra does share the teardrop shape that Matthew has. What confuddles me is the lack of the three lines, and the color. I am unsure as to whether or not this has meaning, was on purpose, or was just what they decided to go with.

I did however come to the conclusion that the color might be related to bhasma (calcine ash), more specifically, “Pushpa Kasisa, which is crystalline with bluish green color.” Source: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3530270/ 

“Bhasma is a Sanskrit word that means “bone ash,” “cinder” or “disintegration.” It comes from the root bha, meaning “delusion,” “appearance” or “likeness,” and sma, meaning “ever” or “always.” In Hinduism and yoga, bhasma is sacred ash. In some traditions, it is thought to contain the energy of Shiva.” 

“In the spiritual context, bhasma symbolizes burning the ego to ashes in order to unite with the higher Self or the divine. It represents liberation from the limitations of mortal life and freedom from the cycle of reincarnation. It is also a reminder of the temporary nature of the physical body, which will one day return to ashes.

Also called vibhooti, bhasma is the sacred ash from the fire of a yogi or saint or from the sacrificial fire known as yajna in which special wood, herbs, grains, ghee and other items are offered as part of a worship ritual. Bhasma is thought to destroy sin and consume evil.” Source: https://www.yogapedia.com/definition/5934/bhasma#:~:text=In%20the%20spiritual%20context%2C%20bhasma,from%20the%20cycle%20of%20reincarnation. 

Overall it appears that bhasma is applied to protect its wearer from physical harm/illness as well as serving its spiritual purposes which works really well given that it appeared during a fight where Matthew was in fact, getting harmed.

(I do want to mention though that I do think that it is not actual bhasma as that really wouldn’t make sense, but the similarities and “coincidences” are really cool to me.)

Okay, how does this relate to Matthew’s powers?

“According to yogic texts, there exist seven major chakras (discs of subtle concentrated energy) that run along the center of the body, each of which relate to some aspect of a person’s physical, emotional, and psychological make-up. Tilak is placed on the forehead between the eyebrows where the ajna chakra is located. As ajna means to “perceive” or “command,” the ajna chakra is considered to be the “eye of intuition,” through which a person can discern information that cannot otherwise be seen with one’s physical eyes. This “third eye” is a spiritually potent part of one’s being that helps one to focus inward on the Divine. Tilak, therefore, is placed on the ajna chakra to invoke this divine energy, as well as act as a reminder of the ultimate life goal.” Source: https://www.hinduamerican.org/blog/5-things-to-know-about-tilak 

If Matthew is invoking the power of Shiva to aid him through the third eye, or the ajna chakra, this would make the most sense (and would explain why we hadn’t seen it before, probably). I also think it explains his fireballs pretty well, as I’ve noticed a lot of fire and burning practices and metaphors throughout my search for answers.

Oh, also, this: “Shiva's tapas generated so much heat that his body transformed into a pillar of fire - a blazing lingam that threatened to destroy the whole world. The gods did not know how to control Shiva's fire.”

In fact, the whole summary article thingy is really cool to me, so i’ll put it all here.

“Shiva saw no sense in the transitory pleasures of life, so he rejected samsara, smeared his body with ash, closed his eyes and performed austerities.

Shiva's tapas generated so much heat that his body transformed into a pillar of fire - a blazing lingam that threatened to destroy the whole world. The gods did not know how to control Shiva's fire.

Suddenly there appeared a yoni - the divine vessel of the mother-goddess. It caught the fiery lingam and contained its heat, thus saving the cosmos from untimely destruction.

Shiva is often pictured in a pacific mood with his consort Parvati, as the cosmic dancer Nataraja, as a naked ascetic, as a mendicant beggar, as a yogi Dhakshinamurthy, and as the androgynous union of Shiva and Parvati in one body (Ardhanarisvara).

Shiva also takes the form of Ardhanari, his androgynous form. The right side of the sculpture is Shiva and the left side is Parvati. The attributes of each are split directly down the middle.

Another example of Shiva's apparent synthesis of male and female attributes is seen in his earrings. He often wears one earring in the style of a man and the other as a female.” Source: https://www.lotussculpture.com/shiva-hindu-god-lord-destruction-meaning-symbolism.html#:~:text=Shiva's%20tapas%20generated%20so%20much,how%20to%20control%20Shiva's%20fire. 

So yeah, there you have it. Here is every single source I used:

Shiva

https://servdharm.com/blogs/post/significance-of-shivas-trishul#:~:text=The%20Trishul%2C%20also%20known%20as,in%20the%20saguna%20linga%20form. 

https://www.lotussculpture.com/shiva-hindu-god-lord-destruction-meaning-symbolism.html#:~:text=Shiva's%20tapas%20generated%20so%20much,how%20to%20control%20Shiva's%20fire. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shiva

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trishula 

https://www.templepurohit.com/shiva-worshipped-form-linga-lingam/#google_vignette 

Shakti/Yoni

https://www.britannica.com/topic/yoni 

https://hridaya-yoga.com/blog/yoni-puja/ 

https://kripalu.org/resources/shakti-power-within-you#:~:text=Shakti%20means%20power%2C%20energy%2C%20or,the%20divine%20masculine%20god%20Shiva. 

Tilak

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/tilak-ancient-practice-significance-neeta-singhal 

https://www.hinduamerican.org/blog/5-things-to-know-about-tilak 

https://www.britannica.com/topic/tilak 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tilaka 

Bindi

https://exametc.com/magazine/details.php?id=900 

https://www.sanskritimagazine.com/bindi-meaning-and-significance-of-the-dot-on-forehead/ 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bindi_(decoration) 

Bhasma

https://www.yogapedia.com/definition/5934/bhasma#:~:text=In%20the%20spiritual%20context%2C%20bhasma,from%20the%20cycle%20of%20reincarnation. 

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24696811/#:~:text=There%20are%20various%20importance%20of,heavy%20metals%20in%20the%20body. 

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3530270/ 

Third Eye

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_eye 

[devilsarchives]

The lies of a Rose “Part I”

Disclaimer: This headcannon series depicts themes that some readers may find disturbing, such as an inappropriate relationship between an adult and a minor. With that said, this is not a romanization of those themes so if y’all take it that way that’s on you.

The Lady in Red’s identity has always been a mystery. Who was she? Where is she now? And how come despite the fact that she’s Nero’s mother, the eldest son of Sparda has no recollection of her? Well, having put in a ridiculous amount of thought and time into this subject, I think I’ve finally come up with an answer;

Our story begins on Fortuna on April 5th, 1997. (2 years before the events of Devil May Cry 3) Vergil, who was 16 at the time, had traveled to the remote island in search of the truth to his fathers fate. As soon as he enters the city, it doesn’t take long for the demons to attack, unaware that he had noticed their presence the entire time. Like the cutscene from dmc4 se, Vergil cuts his foes down swiftly and moves forward.

As he walked through the crowded streets trying his best to blend in, a young woman watched from afar.

Her name was Beatrice, a 21 year old member of the Order who, like the majority of Fortuna’s citizens, had spent her entire life worshiping the legendary dark knight Sparda, believing that he would one day return and free humanity from demon kind once and for all.

She had passed by Vergil in the cities marketplace, catching a small glimpse of his white hair. She had never seen anyone with that color, at least, not someone as young as that boy appeared. Apart from that and his cloak, Beatrice quickly deduced that he was a visitor who clearly had something to hide, so when she saw him entering the local library, she followed.

Trying her best to remain unseen, Beatrice watched him speak briefly with the librarian before heading upstairs to where all the historic records were kept. She asked the librarian why the visitor had gone up there, to which the older woman replied “He wanted to learn about the Savior.”

Beatrice found this news interesting to say the least. An outsider coming to Fortuna seeking knowledge about Sparda wasn’t unheard of. In fact, a vast majority of the city was made up of travelers who had been converted. But if that was the case, why had he not gone straight to the Opera House? Surely if the visitor had questions about the Order, he’d want to speak with his holiness, right?

Confused by all this, Beatrice decided to visit Fortuna Castle, the current base of operations for the Order’s highest members. There she requested a meeting with his Holiness, but was denied this request by her brother Sanctus, his holiness’s 2nd in command/ lieutenant. When told he would pass the message along, Beatrice informed him of the visitor with white hair wandering around town. Sanctus had already received a similar report from the guards posted at the entrance and was aware of the strangers presence, as well as their impressive abilities in combat. He had a hunch about the visitors true identity, but if he was going to convince his holiness of anything, he needed proof.

Sanctus gave Beatrice the task of observing the boy and reporting anything else she learned about him, which she gladly accepted.

For the next few weeks, Beatrice followed Vergil wherever he went. When he wasn’t at the library reading up on the legends of Sparda, he would secretly spectate during morning worship at the Opera House. Sometimes she would catch him snickering a bit during the sermon, never figuring out why as nothing his holiness preached had ever been humorous.

For whatever reason, the stranger didn’t spend his nights in an inn or a hotel. Instead, he sought refuge inside Port Caerula warehouse. It was hardly ever in use and guard patrols rarely took place in that area, making it the perfect place to lay low. Beatrice would go to the warehouse and remain outside, but not by choice. Vergil had place a barrier around the door, obliterating demons instantly once they made contact. Fearful that she would meet the same fate, Beatrice decided to remain oblivious to whatever went on inside that building, telling Sanctus that she could never figure out where the visitor spent the night.

After a month of fruitless observation, Beatrice began to think that maybe the visitor was just that, a visitor with zero ulterior motives. She was prepared to give up on her assignment entirely, until it happened…

Scattered across the island were many Hell Gates. In the past, the demon king Mundas had built them to transport his armies into the mortal realm to aid in his conquest of the mortal realm, however, upon being defeated by Sparda, the hordes were repelled and the gates were sealed off.

Centuries later, a mining expedition would take place near one of the gates. There would be a few encounters with demons, but nothing the city guards couldn’t handle, and so the worker could do as they pleased along as they followed one simple rule; Never touch the Gate.

Of course, like all rules, they would eventually be broken. A group of workers who were drunk from a party and had wandered far away from the others. They approached the gate and began daring each other to lay one finger on it. The “bravest” of them eagerly agreed to the challenge and recklessly placed his entire hand on the stone. There was a moment of silence before the ground began to shake and dark, demonic laughter invaded the workers mind. Before he or his friends had time to react, a hellish portal opened within the gate, allowing a monster to step through.

In the underworld, he was known as Berial. As one of Mundus’ many offspring, he was a true force to be reckoned with, proclaiming himself as the conqueror of Hellfire itself. He had been hellbent on making the traitor Sparda pay for his crimes against their kind, and now that he finally had a way into the Mortal Realm, he wouldn’t stop until that goal was achieved.

Stepping into the earth, he let out a roar that unleashed a supernova, laying waste to the structures around him, as well as the foolish workers that had opened the gate. Mass panic spread throughout the city, guards rushing people to safety while Sanctus led his best men towards the threat. As Beatrice ran with the others, she spotted the visitor running in the opposite direction. Against her better judgement, she did what had been doing from the start and followed, eventually finding herself standing with Sanctus. Both watched as the visitor approached the demon lord and discarded his cloak, showing no signs of fear or hesitation. Berial instantly knew who the young man one, saying he had Sparda’s blood flowing his his veins, shocking everyone, especially Sanctus.

The visitor took hold of the hilt of his blade and drew it, revealing that his name was Vergil and proclaiming that the demon would die by his hand. Angered by the young man’s complete disregard for his might, Berial moved to strike Vergil down, but to his and everyone’s surprise, the young man countered it with ease, initiating a fierce battle between the sons of two rivals.

Though Berial’s size and strength made him a fierce opponent, he truly was no match for Vergil. The teens inhuman speed and reaction time were astonishing to witness as he had accurately predicted the demons lords every move, allowing him to break through Berial’s defenses and land every single attack effortlessly.

Meanwhile, Sanctus, his men, and Beatrice were left speechless. They had all grown up hearing about Sparda’s power, yet never imagined they would witness it for themselves. It was clear to them who Vergil really was, and for Sanctus, this revelation opened to door to many opportunities, ones he was more than willing to exploit.

Pushed to the limit, Berial conceded to Vergil, swearing to return for a rematch once his power was restored. Though displeased at his opponents cowardice, Vergil honored the beasts word and allowed him to escape through the Hell Gate.

With the threat gone, Vergil retrieved his cloak, making direct eye contact with Sanctus before using the Yamato to teleport away from the seen. Sanctus ordered his men to go looking for Vergil immediately, waiting until they left before addressing his sister;

Sanctus: I know you’ve been lying to me.

Beatrice: Lying to you? What would I have to lie about?

Sanctus: Don’t play me for a fool, I know you’ve been aware of where that boys has been staying this entire time.

Beatrice: I-I’m sorry brother! I c-can explain-

Sanctus: No need, I understand completely.

Beatrice: You do?

Sanctus: Of course, after all he is an impressive young man.

Beatrice: I suppose…

Sanctus: Quite handsome too.

Beatrice: Well yes- what’s your point?

Turning to face Beatrice, Sanctus placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

Sanctus: My point, dear sister, is that you have my blessing to pursue him.

Beatrice: As…what exactly?

Her brother grinned darkly.

Sanctus: As a lover of course!

And that concludes Part I of my multi-part Lady in Red headcannon series. Sorry for this first one being so long, there was a lot to cover and tbh I can’t promise Part II will be any different. I’ve had this headcannon for a good minute now and while I’m not quite ready to turn it into a full fledged fanfiction, I really wanted to get it out there. Ill try to post a new entry every day, so if anyone has any questions or thoughts please feel free to comment and please reblog as Likes unfortunately do little to bring attention to posts on this app 🙃. Anyway, bye for now.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Nyami Nyami - Day 82

Race: Dragon

Alignment: Light-Chaos

July 30th, 2024

A lot of religions put great importance on rivers. This is for hopefully obvious reasons, especially if you've taken an 8th grade history class, as sources of water, and especially rivers, are where many civilizations sprout- water is an incredibly important part of life, and rivers give way to several things, whether it be watering for crops or trade routes to access the rest of the world. However, none put as much importance on rivers as several African religions- whether it be the centerpiece of Egyptian mythology being the Nile, to a major deity of the Yoruba people being the river orisha Oshun, or even today's Demon of the Day, an incredibly important god to the Tonga people- the god of the river Zambezi, Nyami Nyami.

Alternatively spelt Nyaminyami, a corruption/pet name of the original 'Nyama yamaninga ninga,' this snake has some big shoes to fill, being one of the central gods of its religion, and one with iconography everywhere. As a deity representing the fourth largest river in all of Africa, and one that is incredibly important to the Tonga people, a people-group who arrived and settled around it at roughly 300 CE, Nyami Nyami is a big deal. Commonly depicted as a large snake or sea serpent whose length is beyond estimation, this god provides sustenance and survival to the Tonga people, being in control of the river it presides over, Zambezi. As the snake swims by, the river would stain red in his wake, though this wasn't a bad omen- no, it was far from it.

In times of struggle, the serpent would rise from its home deep under the waves and allow its people to cut from its skin to feast, giving way to the meaning of its name- 'pieces of meat-' before heading back under into the watery depths. As the controller of the eb an flow of the river, he would ensure that the crops were watered and that the people he watched over were thriving, and he did this for hundreds of years... until when the white man arrived. He went into hiding, though still controlled the river, and assisted from afar until 1955, when a dam was beginning to be planned overlooking the river. As the river had began to rise and his home was trapped under the waves, he was already getting annoyed, but the dam was the final straw.

After all, during the time of its construction, as legends go, his wife had visited downstream, and was now trapped behind it. This, alongside everything else- him being forced into hiding, and his home's submersal- finally inspired his wrath. The construction of the dam was famously hit by disaster after disaster, to the point many people say it may be cursed- even as recent as 2023, a wall collapsed inside. During the planning phase in 1950, a massive hurricane hit the river, causing it to swell by 7 meters, and once it was over, the entire flood plain was covered in animal carcasses. The survey team sent to check out the mess were then wiped out utterly by a sudden landslide. This unprecedented event was even stranger than just that, though- the cyclone that had whipped the river so high was from the Indian ocean, far beyond the landlocked African river. However, this was only the beginning of Nyami Nyami's wrath, showing how powerful the serpent was in his inconsolable rage of humanity's interference in both his and his people's lives.

The dam's construction, while seen as unilaterally good by most involved in planning, involved the displacement of the Tonga people away from the basin of the river so the dam could function- the place they had lived for years, raised so many families within, had been stripped away for the purpose of building a massive source of energy for colonizers. This, rightfully so, was seen by many of the Tonga people as unjust, and as the dam had begun construction, they called upon Nyami Nyami again.

Later on in 1955, on Christmas Eve, yet another unprecedented event struck the country- a massive flash flood that hadn't happened before or since completely broke the foundations being built, wiping out several people and halting progress for days. However, when construction persisted, yet another flood struck in 1956, and finally, in 1958, one last one hit the river, a massive rainstorm turned flash flood that was purported to only happen once every 10,000 years! The flood caused several explosions to ring out throughout the dam, leading to yet more lives being lost. Eventually, though, the dam was finished. Nyami Nyami's wrath had failed, ultimately, but the damages were many, as over 80 people had lost their lives. Hence, this is why you never piss off a river deity.

Now, in terms of SMT representation, it's an incredibly faithful design to the many Nyami Nyami statues erected around the river, a coiled snake with a fish's head. While I somewhat wish we got to see the great serpent depicted in the myths surrounding Nyami Nyami, this is a great pick for his design in general, as it's literally just a blue-tinted version of the exact statues one may see depicting this serpent. Overall, Nyami Nyami is an excellent design for a river god who tried to protect a displaced tribe of people during their darkest hour, and though he failed, we really do have to acknowledge how wild it was that several once-in-a-lifetime events hit the dam in such short succession. Nyami Nyami's wrath must not go understated.

[grymoria]

I need to accept the fact that the reason why nowadays I only simp for Goku Black within the Dragon Ball series is because he's the closest thing to a Gothic based/inspired character within the series.

HEAR ME OUT, HEAR ME OUT AS TO WHY!

1. The way he constantly call non-gods mortals

Yes we know he calls non gods mortals because he hates them to the point that he wants all of them dead. But as someone who follows goths/ is friends with goths within the social medias, some goths see themselves as vampires. Vampires are immortal so some would refer to humans as mortals.

2. He finds killing mortals satisfying.

The way we see him attack/kill mortals is brutal but we know he enjoys doing it. One might describe this as a macabre. Thing is one thing about us goths is that we see the beauty within macabre things. (Hence why some of us is into Horror movies and Gothic literature.) And the definition of macabre is "disturbing and horrifying because of involvement with or depiction of death and injury." I'm pretty sure that we can all agree that commiting an omnicide is very macabre and we witness Goku Black enjoy doing such a thing. He clearly sees the beauty in it because to him it's justice.

3. He literally uses a scythe.

I'm pretty sure this one is obvious because the number one character that people think of when they hear or see the word scythe is the Grim Reaper. The Grim Reaper is a character that is loved within goths (even though Dracula is probably loved more) and as a god whose entire plan to end the lives of mortals it's no surprise that him having a scythe references the Grim Reaper.

4. He wears dark colored clothes.

If you pay attention to the typical type of outfits that goths wear 99% of the time we're wearing mostly black, which is the darkest of colors, so dark that it's not considered a color for real because of its absence of light. Goku Black wears black, he also wears gray, and white, and red which are also some colors that most goths wear. (Especially red since red is the color of blood.) And because of him wearing dark clothes it's the reason why he ended up with the name Goku Black.

5. His form that is similar to Super Saiyan Blue is Super Saiyan Rosé

It's quite obvious as to why he calls the form Rosé because his form is pink however the way you say pink in French is Rosé. But because of that form I've seen fans link him to the flower, the rose and roses are clearly loved a lot to the point that they're even a part of the gothic aesthetic, especially if they're dead. (Which makes sense for Goku Black judging how he is.)

I know that they're other gothic or gothic based characters within the Dragon Ball series Like for example, Lucifer from the movie Dragon Ball: Sleeping Princess in Devil's Castle (I don't know if he's a vampire or just a demon with vampiric tendencies.) But to me Goku Black is more gothic than he is. But it is debatable because Lucifer wanted the Earth to be full of darkness and ruled by monsters.

Either way this was just something I wanted to point out because I need to stop being so delusional about why I like Goku Black so much. The delusion in question is that he's took Goku's body and made it his (aka he's hot) and he's villainous in an elegant way.

[eybefioro]

Weekly fic rec, by yours truly...

The path looks almost muted, bathed in the soft lights of a overcast afternoon. The trees hang their branches above us, a green ceiling that would protect from the harsher sunbeams and speckle the ground with stars in a more sunny day, but now only surround us in more shadows. We hear the slightly wet crunch of the soil under our feet and the birds singing not far away; the breeze smells of bittersweet memories and nostalgia. We reach the clearing, where we watch the horizon as the sun sets, and for a moment, everything blows up with colors, the clouds making the perfect canvas for the golds, the purples and the reds, right before the night steals the light.

Sunflower Fingerprints by Fearandhatred

Rated Gen, ~3,2k words

My tags: tender, painful, beautiful

Summary

A fun little side perk of being a demon is that Crowley only gets to see the world in shades of grey. That is, until that world is touched by one particular angel.

So I think it won't come as a surprise that I'm recommending this one. I feel like I must have gushed about it a few times before, but I *need* to do it in a proper post, and it's perfect now that I'm settled in doing this every week.

So. Sunflower Fingerprints. I don't even know where to start. Good lord it is beautiful. No you won't understand how delicate this is until you read it, but I will do my best.

In the first few sentences, Leanne gives a whole new perspective for the Fall, yk, to start with a punch. It hurts, I could almost feel it in my body, but it was indeed so beautiful -- and that settles the whole energy of this fic. It's beautiful and hurts, but never in a aggressive way; it's delicate, it has love and intention, it's tender.

We get to see a few glimpses of Aziraphale and Crowley over the history, and how the demon's colorblindness affected their interactions; the garden of Eden, making Crowley approach Aziraphale is the first one, and I love the way she describes how colors spread from Aziraphale’s feet, and how Crowley is in awe at the golds and whites, at the same time that he feels slapped in the face by heaven again.

The way that Crowley longs for color, but that isn't the reason he seeks Aziraphale makes my insides twist. He can't even use that as an excuse to be by his side, and he fears how Aziraphale would react if he knew the whole truth, fears he will be misunderstood, and that internal conflict is just so lovely (I feel like a sadist using that word to describe it but I can't find a more fitting one lol)

Crowley has a whole different perspective about colors, and that whole section where he goes about the meaning of colors to him is just so stunning. And then he says his favorite color is yellow and I ask myself if he even knows that is the shade of his eyes and my heart bleeds a little. Then there's the watercolor bit, where we get a bit of breather, a bit of chuckle, just to get punched right after by the way Crowley's touching Aziraphale is described; and I quote:

[...]grey starts to spread out from him and onto Aziraphale's skin like fungi, in sickening, decaying black.

Like... seriously Leanne, I wanted to chew my right arm. Or someone's right arm. Gah. And then after that we get a heartwarming, stunning and bittersweet description of Aziraphale on a Holi festival. The imagery of Aziraphale all happy and beautiful surrounded by vibrant colors, with Crowley observing him will be forever seared in my brain. That is a last respite before the final knife twist.

So, until this point, Leanne has been constructing a very delicate depiction of Crowley's relationship with Aziraphale and colors, and she weaponizes it all in the end. We see the final fifteen under this new perspective, and the fears that Crowley felt during it all turn against him, and dear lord I wanted to cry.

I just love the whole imagery. It was so well constructed, so beautiful and hurted so good. It was almost like it was made especially for me, and I lost count of how many times I read it or got myself thinking about it. Angst is not for everyone, I know, but I think this one many people would appreciate.

Sometimes, we need to let ourselves feel and appreciate the fall. Appreciate the colors that the people we love give the world, and how it hurts when we are deprived of it, how the world is grey without them.

This fic is like looking at an old photograph from a person that you loved. Like trying a recipe from a loved one to seek those flavors that bring you back to a good memory, but never being able to get it quite right.

Also if you read this and wanna yell, yell at @fearandhatred . This is her fault for writing something so beautiful. (No, yell at me too, so we can yell together 💛)

Edit: Leanne made a poem that fits with one of my fav paragraphs of this fic. It's here. She's insane.

[electricprincess96]

Asking out of curiosity, but why do ya dislike Damian Wayne? I ask this not in a acussitory manner mind, as my only exposure to Damian is in non comics material such as those animated movies he popped up in. More so curiosity cause he seems to be a very controversial character among the main comics fandom itself.

He is controversial. There are a few reasons, some I could change my mind on with better writing and others would take a lot more for me to get behind him. I'll start by saying if you're reading this and are a Damian fan don't continue, you aren't gonna like what I have to say so don't both hate reading for the sake of it.

Firstly the concept of the Bat Family for the most part up until that point was about Found Family. Let me be clear I'm not saying it was sunshine and rainbows and they all got along great all the time BUT it was about broken people finding each other and trying to work together to make a difference. The very concept of giving Bruce a blood son ruins that, you need only look at most Damian fans when the debate on who should be Bruce's successor comes up, they will always say Damian despite the fact he has shown NOTHING to prove he deserves it, their only reason is he's the blood son. While yes being both biological and adopted kids is a thing that exists and most real people can do it and it works most DC writers are not adopted parents and dont know the specifics of how you depict that balance and it shows. It reeks of weird blood purist, anti-adoption vibes that just aren't good. Like the rise in "bad parent Bruce Wayne" towards Jason and Tim and some of the others (not sure he knows Cass's name anymore) conveniently corrolates with demon brats creation. Coupled with the fact on more than one occasion writers have seemed to make it seem like Damian does indeed mean more just cause he's blood related. I just don't like it. I wasn't overly fond of Helena Wayne (although she was better cause she was from another world instead of the canon one) and I don't like Damian for the same reason.

Secondly he was forced as Robin. As I said in a recent post up until Damian the role of Robin had only really been changed when it was necessary. Jason was made Robin because DC wanted Robin to be a kid again but readers liked the storylines they were getting with young adult Dick Grayson so they promoted Dick from sidekick and created Jason Todd. Likewise when Jason died there was no Robin, Dick wasn't about to go back to being Robin and Jason was dead thus Tim was created to fill a role that needed filling. Even Stephanie was made Robin due to Tim being unavailable for a long period of time (i dont remember the specifics but i think it had to do with his family finding out about Robin) so even when she lasted not even a year, she was still filling a vacamcy instead of being forced into a role that was already filled. Damian however was just created. They had not taken the proper steps to develop Tim out of being Robin naturally (and before people come at me with "oh he had plenty of time" Dick Grayson got FORTT YEARS and Damian is coming up on nearing 2 decades so shut up) and thus his creation has directly led to the problem we have right now in DC were we have TWO Robins cause they demoted Tim back to being Robin when Red Robin didn't work out (and 3 batgirls but that ones Barbara Gordon's fault). Coupled with the fact his introduction came right after the revival of Jason Todd thus basically screeching to a halt any real meaningful development that plotline could have had because suddenly DC had a shiny new toy to play with. Damian's creation was a turning point for Batman comics and not a good one, because it contributed to the derailing of multiple characters arcs and plotlines and some have still not fully recovered.

Thirdly his character upon introduction was already redundant. He's a child raised by assassins.... OK well we already have Cassandra Cain. He's a Robin willing to kill and will really test the Bat Fams moral compass. OK well as I said we'd already revived Jason Todd and he was already taking the fight to the Bat on the no kill rule. Literally the only unique thing he had upon introduction was that he was a blood relation to Bruce which I personally do not think should mean anything. But DC starting from that point going forward started to have a horrible undercurrent of blood purity. The only thing I can think that he is semi unique on is being biracial but even then not entirely his since Cassandra is biracial as well AND they never do anything with him being biracial. Plus if they really wanted to they could have reconned one of the existing Robins to be biracial without derailing multiple other characters plotlines.

Fourthly. He's an obnoxious and annoying brat 90% of the time. Like I get it, being raised by Talia (although there's conflicting information on of he was actually raised at all since the timeline does not seem to add up for his age and at one point he was grown in an artificial womb and artificially aged but that's been retconned but the timeline still don't add up if he's not artificially aged somewhat. His back story is a mess I ain't gonna make heads or tails of it) will inevitably result in a very arrogant child afterall Ra's and Talia's egos rival Lex Luthors. BUT they want us to believe at times he can back that up. And I'm sorry I don't care how skilled you are as a child assassin, you are still a child. Like in the Animated movies he should not be able to beat Deathstroke in a straight 1 to 1 fight. He just shouldn't. Both are highly skilled assassins sure but Slade is like 6 times Damian's age, double his size and at least 3 times his weight. There is also the fact that his dark, brooding, arrogant, cruel character sort of worked when he was Dick Grayson's Robin cause it was flipping the established dynamics for Batman and Robin. But when he's Bruce's Robin it doesn't work, we no longer have that little bit of sunshine that Robin is meant to bring to Batman (and don't think I haven't noticed how Batman's character has got crueler and darker since Damian became his Robin) while Batman is meant to be a guiding hand for Robin to keep him on the right track.

Fifthly. For Damian's character arc to really work/make sense ot has to be acknowledged that Talia is not a good mother. At best she's deliberately raising him in a dangerous environment and at worse she is actively abusive. It's the only way you can justify half of his character traits and why he's even here in the first place. Here's the issue for all I dislike Talia as a character... I don't believe she's an abusive mother. One thing that seems to be consistent for Talia was that she did love her family. Talia's flaws for me are in her inability to choose a side and her entitlement towards Bruce and other men (well and the whole worldwide genocide of anyone not League of Assassins). Now I am more willing to accept this one as just being how new Talia is but I don't blame some of her fans who feel miffed about this however they do have to acknowledge that there's no real way to do his story without her either being an incompetent parent or a down right bad one (but don't worry Talia fans Bruce is also awful nowadays so she's not alone there....)

Now his arrogance and overall unlikable character can absolutely be fixed with good writing. I hated him in the Animated movies (kid you grew up in the mountains leaving to kill you SHOULD NOT BE LECTURING BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE ABOUT STOCKS) but I'm quite liking him in Boy Wonder where it's actually tackling his own sense of entitlement and showing that he needs to learn from his predecessors rather than acting like he's better than them purely because he shares dna with Bruce.

BUT the conceptual issues I have won't go away quite so easily. It's why if I'm asked if I could wipe one Robin from existence, it will always be him. He could be written wonderfully, he could get a comic run that is the best written thing ever and I will still always say him when asked that question. And I know I'm not alone on that.

[vagabond-umlaut]

STARS.

GLOWING BALLS OF BURNING GASES, LIGHTING THE DARK OF THE NIGHT SKY. PEOPLE OF TALENT, FAMOUS AND MUCH LOVED BY THE GENERAL POPULACE. FORCES OF FATE, INFLUENCING & DETERMINING THE LIVES OF US, MORTALS.

ONE SMALL WORD YET SO COMPLICATED IN ITS MEANINGS, IS IT NOT?

YES, INDEED IT IS— THOUGH, CERTAINLY NOT AS MUCH AS THE STORY OF ONE KING OF CURSES & HIS WIFE— WHAT DO YOU THINK, MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE?

*The camera focuses on one of the most well-known and beloved couples from the renowned TV show Jujutsu Kaisen. Despite being six years younger in age and over ten years younger in acting experience, the woman seems every gram the seasoned acting professional the man beside her is; although, a lot more cheerful and friendly than the latter. [The almost-absence of space between them doesn't go past the eye of anyone— nevertheless, the interviewer chooses not to comment on the same. For now, that is.] Kore greets the camera with a happy smile and a wave whilst Sukuna acknowledges the same with a minor twitch of his lips— the two of them then returning their focus to the interviewer.*

KORE: *chuckles* AH, NO, I DON'T THINK THEIR STORY IS AS COMPLICATED AS IT IS BEING MADE TO BE. IT IS A RATHER SIMPLE, SWEET AND SUCCINCT TALE OF LOVE, SET IN ANOTHER ERA. SUKUNA: *nodding* I AGREE. KORE'S & MY CHARACTERS SURE DO HAVE QUITE OPPOSING PERSONALITIES IN THE SHOW— ONE, WORSE THAN A DEMON AND THE OTHER, BETTER THAN AN ANGEL– BUT THAT DOESN'T REALLY MAKE THE STORY COMPLEX OR DIFFICULT. THEY FALL IN LOVE LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO AND WISH TO STAY TOGETHER FOREVER LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO– PERHAPS IN AN EVEN BETTER WAY BECAUSE OF THEIR OPPOSITE NATURES ATTRACTING EACH OTHER.

WOW, THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE FIRST TIME MR. SUKUNA'S SPOKEN FOR SO LONG IN AN INTERVIEW, RIGHT? YOUR FANS, ME INCLUDED, ARE SHOCKED TO SAY THE LEAST. WOW...

KORE: *giggling at Sukuna, the latter looking away and coughing* SUKUNA TENDS TO BE VOCAL ABOUT THE THINGS HE IS PASSIONATE ABOUT— THIS CONCEPT OF OPPOSITES ATTRACTING IS JUST ONE SUCH THING.

OHH. I SEE. AND DID THAT SAME THEORY OF OPPOSITES ATTRACTING PLAY A ROLE IN DECIDING YOUR OUTFITS TONIGHT?

KORE: *stays silent for a while before answering* YOU CAN SAY THAT... BUT TO BE HONEST, IT'S MUCH DEEPER THAN THAT. *shares a small, almost secretive smile with Sukuna*

OOH! NOW, I'M INTRIGUED— EXACTLY HOW DEEP DID THOSE REASONS BEHIND TONIGHT'S OUTFITS RUN, MS. KORE?

KORE: *huffs a chuckle* NOT VERY DEEP, I PROMISE!— BUT I ASSUME YOU KNOW TONIGHT'S THEME IS STAR-CROSSED LOVERS, DON'T YOU? AS DECIDED BY THE STUNNING HOST OF THE GALA, AND MY DARLING FRIEND, MARA [@margumis]?

YES, OF COURSE!!

KORE: *smiles widely* TONIGHT'S OUTFITS WERE INFLUENCED BOTH BY THAT AND BY WHAT YOU MENTIONED EARLIER. IN MY GREEN DRESS AND GOLDEN ACCESSORIES, YOU COULD SAY I'M THE PRINCESS FROM OUR SHOW– ROYAL, ELEGANT & A SYMBOL OF JOYFUL ENERGY, AS THE COLOUR GREEN DEPICTS. SUKUNA: AND MY RED & BLACK TUX REFERS TO THE EVIL KING OF CURSES— THE POLAR OPPOSITE TO THIS SWEET LADY. *sends a very conspicuous wink to Kore*

THE VISION'S GETTING MUCH CLEARER NOW... BUT WHERE IS THE THEME OF THE STAR-CROSSED– YOU DID NOT JUST CALL THEM STAR-CROSSED LOVERS 'CAUSE OF THE MANY PROBLEMS THEY'RE FACING CURRENTLY, DID YOU? ARE THEY NOT GOING TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING? OH MY GOSH... IS THIS YOU BOTH POSSIBLY GIVING THE WORLD A SPOILER RIGHT NOW?

SUKUNA: *glancing at Kore with a smirk* AT THIS MOMENT, WE DO SEEM TO BE A BIT STAR-CROSSED, DON'T WE, MY QUEEN? *Kore nods, muffling her laughter with a palm*

WELP, DEAR VIEWERS— SEEMS LIKE THIS IS THE MOST WE CAN KNOW FROM OUR BELOVED ROYAL COUPLE— NOW, RETURNING TO THE IRL DUO– WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE ASPECT OF THE OTHER'S OUTFIT?

KORE: NOTHING— EXCEPT THE FACT HE LOOKS A LEGIT FIVE-COURSE MEAL IN THAT SUIT, MAYBE? SUKUNA: *sighing deeply* I WISH GETO WAS YOUR MENTOR IN PLACE OF THAT GOJO– HE IS A TALENTED ACTOR BUT A PATHETIC TEACHER. MORESO IN THE FIELD OF ROMANCE. YOU CHOSE THE WORST PERSON EVER TO ASK FOR TIPS. KORE: *coos, moving to pinch Sukuna's cheeks* BUT THEY'RE WORKING ON YOU, AREN'T THEY? SEE, HOW PINK HIS CHEEKS HAVE TURNED! ALMOST AS MUCH AS HIS HAIR— HAHAHA–

IT PAINS ME TO INTERRUPT THIS CUTE MOMENT BETWEEN YOU TWO— BUT, SADLY I'VE HIGHER AUTHORITIES TO ANSWER IF I DON'T ASK YOU ALL THESE QUESTIONS ON THE SCRIPT—

KORE: *moves a bit away with a sheepish smile* UM, SORRY!! PLEASE ASK. SUKUNA: *rights his clothes, then smiles politely* YES, PLEASE CONTINUE.

THANK YOU!! SO, MS. KORE, CONSIDERING THIS IS YOUR DEBUT GALA, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS?

KORE: I'M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF THE BLR GALA '23!! INCREDIBLY NOVEL. INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL. MARA, MY SWEETEST ANGEL, I'M SIMPLY IN AWE OF YOUR MARVELLOUS BRAIN, GIRL! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PLANNING THIS!!! AND I LOVE YOU!!!

WHAT ABOUT YOU, MR. SUKUNA? THIS IS YOUR FIRST TIME ATTENDING THESE EVENTS WITH SOMEONE BESIDE YOU, ISN'T IT? WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS?

SUKUNA: *shares a brief yet visibly soft look with Kore, before looking ahead* I'M VERY HAPPY, HAVING KORE BY MY SIDE. BESIDES BEING A WONDERFUL CO-STAR, SHE IS ALSO AN AMA—

*A loud yell of Sukuna's name interrupts him. The camera moves from them, to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru in the distance, the white-haired man jumping up and down with an exuberant beam while his black-haired companion waves his hand. Kore and Sukuna look at each other once, the former with a bright grin & the latter with a sigh, before looking at the interviewer.*

SUKUNA: *smiling apologetically* I'M SORRY BUT IF THEY'RE HERE, THE REST OF THE GANG TOO WILL BE HERE PRETTY SOON— KORE: WE'RE SORRY BUT I THINK WE OUGHT TO CUT THE INTERVIEW A LITTLE SHORT NOW. *offers a contrite smile*

OH, PLEASE DON'T BE SORRY!! I GET IT. WE ALL GET IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH, MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE, FOR ATTENDING THIS INTERVIEW. I, ON BEHALF OF EVERYONE ELSE, WISH YOU AND YOUR SHOW A STELLAR FUTURE AHEAD! WE ARE CERTAIN JUJUTSU KAISEN WILL BE AN IMMENSE SUCCESS!!! THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN!!

KORE: *bows* THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SWEET WISHES! WE'LL BE SURE TO NEVER DISAPPOINT YOU ALL. SUKUNA: *bows* THANK YOU ALL.

*With a happy goodbye and another whispered apology from Kore, and a small smile from Sukuna, both of them walk in the direction of their co-stars and friends– where, sure enough, many more well-known faces can be viewed. The camera returns to the inerviewer after a moment.*

WISH WE HAD MORE TIME TO ASK THEM MORE QUESTIONS, DEAR VIEWERS— BUT ONE THING REMAINS UNQUESTIONED. MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE HAVE AN IMMENSE POTENTIAL TO BE ONE OF THE LOVELIEST COUPLES IN THE– HUH??

*The camera shifts from the astonished face of the interviewer, to where Sukuna and Kore are walking. Hand-in-hand. The camera lingers there for a moment before going back to the interviewer. The latter blinks at the camera– with a mildly disbelieving yet an excited smile, nonetheless.*

THE SHIP IS VERY CLOSE TO SAILING— OR HAS IT ALREADY SAILED, FOLKS?

[shallowseeker]

okay so, yesterday I found your spn meta by chance and fell in love with them 'cause more than writing they're like images, like they really depict things and I just immediately understand what you mean instantly + I started to rewatch Steve Yockey's episodes 'cause I feel like I like his writing (lots of queer! lots of rom-com references! but it's all done so intellingently, I love it!) but ALSO sometimes it doesn't translate to me + I just saw you wrote about "Optimism"= I GOTTA ASK: what's your take on "Optimism"? I don't understand what the Zombie story and the Musca one should reveal about the characters. Visually, it looks like the Musca = Charlie, so Harper and the zombie are ??? I'm mad at myself 'cause I don't seem to get what the show is telling me so I'm hoping you can share what the show tells YOU and, vicariously, I can get it as well (lol). THANK YOU!

Hi! Hello!

Oh, really? That's so cool. I still have trouble thinking of myself as a "meta writer." I don't mean to be. I just like to ramble. But cool! It's probably mostly that we think alike and are sympatico in some key ways. :-) Always fun to find kindred spirits!

///

O P T I M I S M

I have so many thoughts on Optimism. It's one of my fave episodes! I actually did a re-watch-slash-convo with some friends on Discord and just transcribed the very, very, very LOOONG bulk of it today!

I haven't written much on the Musca. After spending a lot of time of @scoobydoodean's blog, I've just about decided the Musca plot is actually a Sam's emotions-through line more than it is a true dark mirror. Even AU Charlie is cheeky about it:

AU CHARLIE (annoyed at Sam, about the Musca): Your nifty metaphor has holes.

Basically, Charlie is saying that mirrors aren't one-to-one, and that trying to force-fit them into being one-to-one can be super annoying sometimes.

//

CHARLIE - Every two hundred years there is "bad egg". When a male fails to find a mate, he abandons his community and starts using peoples bodies to "nest". Binding them together with a viscous goo. And when the goo fits...

//

The Musca/fly is at face-value:

A) A bodysnatcher plot: In that regard, it could be like all angels, demons, or anyone inhabiting a body. (Cas, Lucifer, Michael, Crowley, etc.) Ergo, it's a dark, uncharitable Cas mirror the way Dave Mathers outlaw wraith was in Tombstone. It could be saying that Cas "failed" among "his own people" and cruelly took up space in a human body. But that would be grossly oversimplifying the whole situation, saying that Cas "should have stayed with his people," which ofc doesn't work.

It, as Charlie says, "has a lot of holes." @ilarual has written a lot about the totalitarian structure of Heaven. And Sam himself wants Cas around. As far as metaphors go, it's a dud for Cas.

B) It's a failure to thrive plot: Because the Musca "failed" in The Real World with its Own People, perhaps failed to live up to The prescriptive Dream of Success (TM), now it's wreaking havoc on others.

Sam himself "failed out" of Harvard. He "choked." Kevin Train and Patience Turner are also Failed Gifted Students. Losers who didn't live up to their potential. This could even apply to Chuck, binding together his characters because he's a Loser with a capital L.

///

ANYWAY, I feel like the Music plot is a "red herring" for a few reasons.

One: The main Harper plot is about breaking narratives, about not relying so much on books. And then Charlie says this:

CHARLIE: Goo. So, yeah. I'd say this is the right place. Now, I'm just trying to figure out what we are dealing with. Thus, books.

Aside: Later Cas says sarcastically in Ouroboros that Sam and Rowena, "Have many, many books."

So, there's this niggling indictment of trying to find too much truth in books...

///

Two: Sam has a tendency to see something and, like, imprint on it. He tends to fall into "It's just like me!" instead of speaking frankly about the present situations and emotions.

*In American Nightmare, he sees Madga Peterson, an abused child* -> "She's just like me!"

*In Somewhere in Between Heaven and Hell, he sees someone lying about something completely unrelated to his current situation* ->"Omg, they're lying to them, like I'm lying to Dean! It's just like me!"

*In Lost & Found, he meets Jack Kline, who is Lucifer's son "OMG, he's just like me!" -> *spoiler alert* Jack is not in fact much like Sam at all. -> Sidenote: instead of speaking frankly about how Dean is grieving, how Lucifer killed Cas and likely killed Mary, he uses complex euphemisms with Jack, ones that actually obscure the reality of the situation! This winds up annoying Jack and making him pull away from Sam.

///

IMHO...Sam isn't...naturally all that great with emotions.

He tries really, really hard, and he loves patterns, but he's always seeming to force-fit situations and scenarios into neat little boxes so he can passively-aggressively use it to indirectly communicate something he feels about himself.

He has a very cognitive empathy style. Bless him.

///

So what's REALLY going on here?

Well. In this episode, he wants Charlie to stay. He wants Charlie to stay and fill a void the other Charlie left behind. He wants Charlie to stay really, really badly. And he beats around the bush about it.

At first, he sidesteps his own emotions by passive-aggressively implying that it's Dean that in fact needs her.

CHARLIE: He'll be fine. Your brother, I mean. He's got other friends, right? SAM: Plenty. Uhm, he used to have a pretty damn good wingman. CHARLIE: So call that guy to check on him. SAM: That guy was you. CHARLIE: No, it wasn't. SAM: Right, I, uh, sorry. I didn't mean that.

And then by trying to make the case fit her.

He's very indirect and weird about it. Because he's Sam. (It's a contrast to the effortless, awkward-but-honest communication style we see from characters like Jack and Dean in this very episode.)

SAM: Charlie, you can't just quit and go live on a mountain somewhere. People need people. CHARLIE: Why? Cause they're the luckiest people in the world? SAM: Look, come on. We just do. We're social animals. CHARLIE: Emphasis on animals. SAM: Yeah, but you're also a hunter. The things that we've seen, it's not so easy to just walk away from it all. Believe me, I've tried. Our Charlie tried. CHARLIE: Yeah, well again, she ain't me. It's my life, Sam. Not hers. And not yours.

Ah, yes. Instead of saying, “I want you here,” it’s, “people need people.”

And Hell, sometimes indirect communication works! Like how Dean and Cas use Felix the snake to indirectly communicate with Jack in Peace of Mind!

But the difference with Sam is...he's not using this indirect communication style to find out how Charlie feels (the way Dean and Cas use the snake to suss out how Jack feels).

No, he's using the whole thing to try to tell Charlie what he thinks is best for her! To tell her things, not find out things.

Eventually, he breaks and says what he actually thinks, but only after AU Charlie is starting to lose her patience with him:

SAM (faux-sadly): Got to say, I do feel kind of bad for the Musca. I mean, he could have been happy if he'd stayed with his people. Didn't have to go off on his own just because... CHARLIE (exasperated): Okay, I get it. I am just like the bug and I shouldn't go out on my own.

OMG, Sammy! It's okay if we want to hit Sam sometimes, right? I too wanted to hit him after he said this to Charlie.

CHALIE: But your nifty metaphor has holes. I wasn't looking for love. I found it and I lost it. And I didn't kill people and literally nest in their body parts so...(Scene cuts to other Musca removing the body of the dead one) SAM: Okay, yeah I know, I know, How about this? Don't leave. 

(Aside// I think this is a cheeky nod to the fact that Cas and Dean weren't looking for love either. In fact, they tried (and keep trying) really, really hard not to love each other. Their real life was faaaar more complicated than some simple "bodysnatcher plot.")

But thank God--Sam finally says outright what he needed to say to Charlie: Don't leave.

Now, it probably would've been better if he's gone a step further: "I don't want you to leave," but for Sam, this is pretty good progress.

SAM: Hear me out. Sure some people can do bad things when they're desperate or scared. But the guy we just saved, he has a wife and children. I'm not saying that all people are good people or even that most people are but if we help people then maybe they'll help people and all that. And that's worth it. Even with all the tears and death. It's worth it. CHARLIE: Just to be super clear, I am not like the fly monster. (Sam chuckles) But, I'll think about staying.

So I think OVERALL the Musca plot is really about highlighting Sam's difficult communication style, and I think it's intentionally being cheeky about it how it's using a "really "dumb metaphor" with gaping holes!

It's about how Sam tries to force-fit the case of the week into saying what he wants it to say...instead of just saying it.

///

I think Sam has a little bit of a "mental main character syndrome." He sees a scenario and moves directly into cognitive empathy, reading the situation and thinking:

How can I apply this to myself? Or make it a stand-in for either something I want to believe about myself or a stand-in for something I want to say indirectly?

Sometimes you'll see ppl insist that Sam is the "MC" because every storyline tells you "something about Sam." But I'm more in the camp that it's Sam's inherent cognitive style of empathy at work, desperately reworking anything and everything to make it apply to himself.

Whereas Cas and Dean (and Jack) have a truer emotional style of empathy, connecting with people for who they actually are, as they are.

That's not to say that both styles can't be manipulative when we want them to be. But Sam really struggles with his style in a way I feel like Dean and Cas do not. Dean and Cas perhaps don't even realize what effective communicators they actually are!

///

My other thoughts on Optimism:

[adarkrainbow]

The Yaga journal: Witches and demons of Eastern Europe

The next article I’ll translate from the issue (I won’t translate all of them since some are not very relevant for this blog) is “Baba Yaga, witches, and the ambiguous demons of oriental Europe” by Stamatis Zochios.

The article opens by praising the 1863′s “Reasoned dictionary of the living russian language”. by scholar, lexicograph and folklorist Vladimir Dahl, which is one of the first “systematic essays” that collects the linguistic treasures of Russia. By collecting more than thirty thousand proverbs and sayings, insisting on the popular and oral language, the Dictionary notably talked about various terms of Russian folklore; domovoi, rusalka, leshii... And when it reaches Baba Yaga, the Dictionary calls her : сказочное страшилищ (skazochnoe strashilishh) , that is to say “monster of fairytales”.But the article wonders about this denomination... Indeed, for many people (such as Bogatyrev) Baba Yaga, like other characters of Russian fairytales (Kochtcheï or Zmey Gorynych) do not exist in popular demonology, and is thus exclusively a character of fairy tales, in which she fulfills very specific functions (aggressor, donator if we take back Propp’s system). But the author of this article wonder if Baba Yaga can’t actually be found in “other folkloric genres” - maybe she is present in legends, in popular beliefs, in superstitions and incantations. 

Baba Yaga, as depicted in the roleplaying game “Vampire: The Masquerade”

For example, in a 19th century book by Piotr Efimenko called “Material for ethnography of the Russian population of the Arkhangelsk province”, there is an incantation recorded about a man who wante to seduce/make a woman fall in love with him. During this incantation the man invokes the “demons that served Herod”, Sava, Koldun and Asaul and then - the incantation continues by talking about “three times nine girls” under an oak tree”, to which Baba Yaga brings light. The ritual is about burning wood with the light brought by Baba Yaga, so that the girl may “burn with love” in return. Efimenko also mentions another “old spell for love” that goes like this: “In the middle of the field there are 77 pans of red copper, and on each of them there are 77 Egi-Babas. Each 77 Egi-Babas have 77 daughters with each 77 staffs and 77 brooms. Me, servant of God (insert the man’s name here) beg the daughters of the Egi-Babas. I salute you, daughters of Egi-Babas, and make the servant of God (insert name of the girl here) fall inlove, and bring her to the servant of God (insert name of the man here).” The fact Baba Yaga appears in magical incantations proves that she doesn’t exist merely in fairytales, but was also part of the folk-religion alongside the leshii, rusalka, kikimora and domovoi. However two details have to be insisted upon.

One: the variation of the name Baba Yaga, as the plural “Egi-Babas”. The name Baba Yaga appears in numerous different languages. In Russian and Ukrainian we find Баба-Язя, Язя, Язі-баба, Гадра ; in Polish jędza, babojędza ; in Czech  jezinka, Ježibaba meaning “witch, woman of the forest”, in Serbian  баба jега ; in Slovanian jaga baba, ježi baba ...  Baba is not a problem in itself. Baba, comes from the old Slavic  баба and is a diminutive of  бабушка (babyshka), “grand-mother” - which means all at the same time a “peasant woman”, “a midwife”, a (school mistress? the article is a bit unclear here), a “stone statue of a pagan deity”, and in general a woman, young or old. Of course, while the alternate meanings cannot be ignored, the main meaning for Baba Yaga’s name is “old woman”. Then comes “Yaga” and its variations, “Egi”, “Jedzi”, “Jedza”, which is more problematic. In Fasmer’s etymology dictionary, he thinks it comes from the proto-Slagic (j)ega, meaning “wrath” or “horror”. Most dictionaries take back this etymology, and consider it a mix of the term baba,  старуха (staruha), “old woman”, and of  яга, злая (zlaia), “evil, pain, torment, problem”. So it would mean  злая женщина (zlaja zhenshhina), “the woman of evil”, “the tormenting woman”. However this interpretation of Yaga as “pain” is deemed restrictive by the author of this article.

Aleksandr Afanassiev, in his “Poetic concepts of the Slavs on nature”, proposed a different etymology coming from the anskrit “ahi”, meaning “snake”. Thus, Baba Yaga would be originally a snake-woman similar to the lamia and drangua of the Neo-hellenistic fairytales and Albanian beliefs. Slavic folklore seems to push towards this direction since sometimes Baba Yaga is the mother of three demon-like daughters (who sometimes can be princesses, with one marrying the hero), and of a son-snake that will be killed by the hero. Slovakian fairytales tale back the link with snakes, as they call the sons of Jezi-Baba “demon snakes”. On top of that, an incantation from the 18th century to banish snakes talks about Yaga Zmeia Bura (Yaga the brown snake): “I will send Yaga the brown snake after you. Yaga the brown snake will cover your wound with wool.” According to Polivka, “jaza” is a countryside term to talk about a mythical snake that humans never see, and that turns every seven years into a winged seven-headed serpent. With all that being said, it becomes clear (at least to the author of this article) that one of the versions of Yaga is the drakaina, the female dragon with human characteristics. These entities are usually depicted with the head and torso of women, but the lower body of a snake. They are a big feature of the mythologies of the Eurasian lands - in France the most famous example is Mélusine, the half-snake half-woman queen, whose story was recorded between the end of the 14th century and the beginning of the 15th by Jean d’Arras (in his prose novel La Noble Histoire de Lusignan) and by Couldrette (in the poetic work Roman de Mélusine). For some scholars, these hybrid womans are derived from the Mother Goddess figure, and by their physical duality manifest their double nature of benevolence-malevolence, aggressor-donator. 

If we come back to the incantation of Efimenko, we notice that the 77 daughters of Baba Yaga each have a “metly”, a “broom”. This object isn’t just the broom Baba Yaga uses alongside her mortar and pestle to travel around - it is also the main attribute of the witches, and the witch with her broom is a motif prevalent in numerous textes of Western Europe between the 15th and 16th centuries. Already in medieval literature examples of this topic could be found: in the French works “Perceforest” and “Champion des dames”, the old witches are described flyng on staffs or brooms, turning into birds, to either eat little children or go to witches’ sabbaths. Baba Yaga travels similarly: Afanassiev noted that she goes to gathering of witches while riding a mortar, with a pestle in one hand and a broom in the other. Federowsky noted that Baba Yaga was supposed to be either the “aunt” or the “mistress” of all witches. Baba Yaga herself in often called an old witch, numerous dictionaries explaining her name as meaning старуха-колдунья (staruha-koldun’ja), which literaly means old witch. Even more precisely, she is an old witch who kidnaps children in order to devour their flesh and drink their blood. We find back in other countries of Europe this myth of the “bogeywoman cannibal-witch”, especially dangerous towards newborns and mothers, as the “strix” or “strige”. According to Polivka, in his 1922 article about the supernatural in Slovakian fairytales, the  ježibaba is the same being as the striga/strige. And he also ties these two beings to the bosorka, a creature found in Slovakia, in eastern Moravia, and in Wallachia, and which means originally a witch or a sorceress, but that in folklore took a role similar to the striga or  ježibaba. 

Vinogradova, in a study of the figure of the bosorka, described this Carpathian-Ukrainian witch as a being that attacked people in different ways. For example she stole the milk from the cows - a recurring theme of witches tales in Western Europe (mentionned by Luther in his texts as to one of the reasons witches had to be put to death), but that also corresponds to a tale of the Baba Yaga where she is depicted as sucking the milk out of the breast of a young woman (an AT 519 tale, “The Strong Woman as Bride”). In conclusion, the striga-bosorka is clearly related to the Slovakian version of Baba Yaga, the  Ježibaba. The  Ježibaba, a figure of Western Slavic folklore, also appears as numerous local variations. She is Jenzibaba, Jendzibaba, Endzibaba, Jazibaba, and in Poland she is either “jedza-baba” (the very wicked woman) or “jedzona, jedza-baba, jagababa” (witch). However this Slovakian witch isn’t always evil: in three fairytales,  Ježibaba is a helper bringing gifts, appearing as a trio of sisters (with a clear nod to the three fatae, the three moirae or the three fairies of traditional fairytales) who help the hero escape an ogre who hunts him. They help him by gifting him with food, and then lending him their magical dogs. And in other farytale, the three sisters help a lazy girl spin threads. 

In this last case,  Ježibaba is tied to the action of spinning. It isn’t a surprise as Baba Yaga herself is often depicted spinning wool or owning a loom ; and several times she asks the young girls who arrive at her home to spin for her (AT 480, The Spinning-Woman by the Spring) - AND in some variations, her isba doesn’t stand on chicken legs, but rather on a spindle. This relationship between the female supernatural figure (fairy or witch) and the action of spinning is very typical of European folkore. In several Eastern Slavic traditions, the figure of Paraskeva-Piatnitsa (or Pyatnitsa-Prascovia, who is often related to Baba Yaga), is an important saint, personification of Friday and protectress of crops - and she punishes women who dare spin on the fifth day of the week. Sometimes it is a strong punishment: she will deform the fingers of the woman who dares spin the friday, which relates her to the naroua (or naroue, narova, narove) a nocturnal fairy of Isère and Savoie in France, who manifests during the Twelve Days of Christmas and enters home to punish those that work at midnight or during holidays - especially spinners and lacemakers. In a Savoie folktales she is said to beat up lacemakers until almost killing them, hits them on the fingers with her wand, beats them up with a beef’s leg or a beef’s nerves, and attacks children with both a cow’s leg in one hand and a beef’s leg in another. These bans are also found in the Greek version of Piatnitsa: Agia Paraskevi, Saint Paraskevi, who punishes the spinners that work on Thursday’s nights, during Friday, or during the feast-day of the Saint (26 of July). But her punishment is to force them to eat the flesh of a corpse. Finally, we find the link between spinning and the demonic woman/witch/fairy through the Romanian cousin of Baba Yaga - Baba Cloanta, who says that she is ugly because she spinned too much during her life. And it all ties back to the “Perceforest” tale mentionned above - in the text, the witches, described as old matrons disheveled and bearded, not only fly around on staffs and little wooden chairs, but also by riding on spindles and reels/spools.  

Another typical example of “demonic woman” often compared and related to Baba Yaga is the character known as “Perchta” in her Alpine-Germanic form, Baba Pehtra in Slovenia, or Pechtrababajaga according to a Russian neologism. The name Perchta, Berchta, Percht, Bercht comes from the old high German “beraht”, of the Old German “behrt” and of the root “berhto-”, which is tied to the French “brillant” and the English “brilliant”. So Berchta, or Perchta, would mean “the brilliant one”, “the bringer of light”. Why such a positive name for a malevolent character?

In 1468, the Thesaurus pauperum, written by John XXI, compares two fairies with a cult in medieval France, “Satia” and “dame Abonde”, with another mythological woman: Perchta. The Thesaurus pauperum describes “another type of superstition and idolatry” which consists in leaving at night recipients with food and drinks, destined to ladies that are supposed to visit the house - dame Abonde or Satia, that is also known as “dame Percht” or “Perchtum”, who comes with her whole “troop”. In exchange of finding these open recipients, the ladies will thenfill them regularly, bringing with them riches and abundance. “Many believed that it is during the holy nights, between the birth of Jesus and the night of the Epiphany, that these ladies, led by Perchta, visit homes”, and thus during these nights, people leave on the table bread, chesse, milk, meat, eggs, wine and water, alongside spoons, plates, cups, knives, so that when lady Perchta and her group visit the house, they find everything prepared for them, and bless the house in return with prosperity. So the text cannot be more explict: peasants prepared meals at night for the visit of lady Perchta, it is the custom of the “mensas ornare”, to prepare the table in honor of a lady visiting houses at night. If she finds offerings - cuttlery, drinks, food, especially sugary food - she rewards the house with riches. Else, she punishes the inhabitants of the home.

But Perchta doesn’t just punish for this missing meal. Several stories also describe Perchta looking everywhere in the house she visits, checking every corner to spot any “irregularity”. The most serious of those sins is tied to spinning: the woman of the house is forced to stop her work before midnight, or to not work on a holiday - especially an important holiday of the Twelve Days, such as Christmas or the Epiphany. If the woman is spotted working ; or if Perchta doesn’t found the house cleaned up and tidied up ; or if the flax is not spinned, the goddess (Perchta) will punish the woman. This is why she was called “Spinnstubenfrau”, “the woman of the spinning room”. It is also a nickname of a German spirit known as Berchta - as Spinnstubenfrau, she takes the shape of an old witch who appears in people’s houses during the winter months. She is the guardian spirit of barns and of the spinning-room, who always check work is properly and correctly done. And her punishment was quite brutal: she split open the belly of her victim, and replaces the entrails with garbage. Thomas Hill in his article “Perchta the Belly Slitther” sees in this punishment the remnants of old chamanic-initiation rite ; which would tie to it an analysis done by Andrey Toporkov concerning the “cooking of the child” by Baba Yaga in the storyes of the type AT 327 C or F. In these tales a boy (it might be Ivashka, Zhikharko, Filyushka...) arrives at Baba Yag’s isba, and the witch asks her daughter to cook the boy. The boy makes sure he can’t be pushed in the oven by taking a wrong body posture, and convinces the girl to show him how he should enter the oven. Baba Yaga shows him to do so, enters the oven, and the boy finds the door behind her, trapping Baba Yaga in the fire. According to Toporkov, we can find behind this story an old ritual according to which a baby was placed three times in an oven to give it strength. (The article reminds that Vladimir Propp did highlight the function of Baba Yaga as an “initiation rite” in fairytales - and how Propp considered that Baba Yaga is a caricature of the leader of the rite of passage in primitive societies). And finally, in a tale of Yakutia, the Ega-Baba is described as a chaman, invoked to resurrect a killed person. The author of the article concludes that the first link between Yaga and Perchta is that they are witches/goddesses that can be protectress, but have a demonic/punishment-aspect that can be balanced by a benevolent/initiation-aspect. But it doesn’t stop here.

The Twelve Days are celebrations in honor of Perchta, practiced in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. Still today, “Percht” is a term used to call masked person who haunt at night the villages of High-Styria or the land of Salzbourg: they visit houses while wearing masks, clothed in tatters and holding brooms. During these celebrations, young people either dress up as beautiful girls in traditional costumes (the schöne Perchten), either as ugly old woman (die schiache Perchten). These last ones are inspired by the numerous depictions of Perchta as an old woman, or sometimes a human-animal hybrid, with revolting trait - most prominent of them being the feet of a goose. This could explain in Serbia the existence of a Baba Jaga/Baba Jega with a chicken feet, or even the chicken feet carrying the isba of Baba Yaga. This deformation also recalls a figure of the French region of Franche-Comté, Tante Arie (Aunt Arie), another supernatural woman of the Twelve Days tied to spinning. The second most prominent trait of the “old Perchta” is an iron nose - already in the 14th century, Martin of Amberg wrote about “Percht mit der eisnen nasen”, “Percht with an iron nose”. Yaga also sometimes hag an iron nose, and this is why she was associated with other figures of Carpathian or Western Ukraine folklores - such as Zalizna baba or Zaliznonosa baba, the “old woman of iron”, who lives in a palace standing on duck legs ; there is also Vasorru Baba, the iron-nosed woman of Hungaria. Or Huld - another Spinsstubenfrau, often related to Perchta, but who has more sinister connotations. Huld has an enormous nose according to Luther, and Grimm notes that sometimes she appears as a witch with one very long tooth. This last characteristic if also recurring in Eastern Europe’s mythologies: in Serbia Gvozdenzuba (Iron Teeth) is said to burn the bad spinners ; and Baba Yaga is sometimes described with one or several long teeth, often in iron. But it is another aspect of the myths of Huld, also known as Holda or Frau Holle, that led the scholar Potebnja to relate her to Perchta and Baba Yaga.

According to German folk-belief, Huld (or often Perchta) shakes her pillowcases filled with feathers, which causes the snow or the frost ; and thunder rumbles when she moves her linen spool. It is also said that the Milky Way was spinned with her spinning wheel - and thus she controls the weather. In a very similar function, the Baba Jaudocha of Western Ukraine (also called Baba Dochia, Odochia, Eudochia, Dochita, Baba Odotia, a name coming from the Greek Eudokia) is often associated with Baba Yaga, and she also creates snow by moving either her twelve pillows, or her fur coat. According to Afanassiev, the Bielorussians believed that behind the thunderclouds, you could find Baba Yaga with her broom, her mortar, her magic carpet, her flying horses or her seven-league boots. For the Slovakians, Yaga could create bad or beautiful weather. In Russia, she is sometimes called ярою, бурою, дикою , “jaroju, buroju, dikoju”, a name connected to thunderstorms. Sometimes Yaga and her daughters appear as flying snakes - and the  полет змея, the “polet smeja”, the “flight of the snake” was believed to cause storms, thunder and earthquakes. In a popular folk-song, Yaga is called the witch of winter: “Sun, you saw the old Yaga, Baba Yaga, the winter witch, this ferocious woman, she escaped spring, she fled away from the just, she brought cold in a bag, she shook cold on earth, she tripped and rolled down the hill.” Finally, for Potebnia, the duality and ambiguity of Baba Yaga, who steals away and yet gives, can be related to the duality of the cloud, who fertilizes the land in summer, and brings rain in winter. Baba Yaga is a solar goddess as much as a chthonian goddess - she conjointly protects births, and yet is a psychopomp causing death. 

It seems, through these examples, that Baba Yaga is a goddess - or to be precise, a spirit of nature. Sometimes she is a leshachikha, the wife of the “leshii”, the spirit of the forest, and she herself is a spirit of the woods, living alone in an isolated isba deep in the thick forests. She is thus often paralleled with Muma Padurii, the Mother of the Forest of Romanian folklore, who lives in a hut above rooster’s legs, surrounded by a fence covered in skulls, and who steals children away (in tales of the type AT 327 A, Hansel and Gretel). This aspect of Baba Yaga as a spirit of the forest, and more generally as a “genius loci” (spirit of the place) also makes her similar to another very important figure of Slavic folklore: Полудница  (Poludnica), the “woman of noon”. She is an old woman with long thick hair, wearing rags, and who lives in reeds and nettles ; or she can rather be a very beautiful maiden dressed in white, who punishes those that work at noon. She especially appears in rye fields, and protects the harvest. In other tales, she rather sucks away the life-force of the fields - which would relate her to some stories where Baba Yaga runs through rye fields (either with a scarf of her head, or with her hair flowing behind her). Poludnica can also look like Baya Yaga: Roger Caillois, in his article “Spectres de midi dans la démonologie slave” (Noon wraiths in the Slavic demonology), mentionned that Poludnica was a liminal deity of fields, to which one chanted  полудница во ржи, покажи рубежи, куда хошь побѣжи !, “Poludnicaa in the rye - show the limits - and go where you want.” This liminal aspects reminds of an aspect of Baba Yaga as a genius loci, tied to a specific place that she defends. It is an aspect found as Baba Yaga, Baba Gorbata, Polydnitsa and Pozhinalka: Baba Yaga is either a benevolent spirit that protects the place and the harvest ; either she is a malevolent sprit that absorbs the life-force of the harvest and destroys it. This is why she must be chased away, and thus it explains a Slovanian song that people sing during the holiday of Jurij (the feast day of Saint George), the 23rd of April, an agrarian holiday for the resurrection of nature: Zelenga Jurja (Green George), we guide, butter and eggs we ask, the Baba Yaga we banish, the Spring we spread!”. This chant was tied with a ritual sacrifice: the mannequin of an old woman had to be burned. As such, Baba Yaga and her avatars, was a spirt that had to be hunted down or banned - which is a custom found all over Europe, but especially in Slavic Europe. At the end of the harvest, several magical formulas were used to push away or cut into pieces the “old woman” ; and we can think back of Frazer’s work on the figure of the “Hag” (which in the English languages means as much an old woman as a malevolent spirit), who is herself a dual figure. In a village of Styria, the Mother of wheat, is said to be dressed in white and to be born from the last wheat bundle. She can be seen at midnight in wheat fields, that she crosses to fertilize ; but if she is angry against a farmer, she will dry up all of his wheat. But then the old woman must be sacrificed - just like in the feast of Jurij.

The author concludes that the “folkloric” aspect of Baba Yaga stays relatively unknown in the Western world and the non-russophone lands. The most detailed and complete work the author could find about it is Andreas Johns’ book “Baba Yaga: The Ambiguous Mother and Witch of the Russian Folktale”. The author of the article tried to prove that, as Johns said, the Baba Yaga is fundamentaly ambiguous - at the same time a kidnaping witch, a psychopomp, a cannibal, a protectress of birth, a guardian of places, a spirit of nature and harvests... And that she is part of an entire web and system of demon-feminine figures that create a mythology ensemble with common characteristic - very present in Eastern Europe, but still existing on the continent as a whole.