The vampire who has greasy hair and breath that never ceases to smell like coffee. They are failing all their classes, but spend whole nights fixated on their true passions, which are so niche that they can hardly find classes that touch on them. The garbage is overflowing with instant ramen packaging and coffee filters. They are often too tired to interact with anyone, but as soon as their interests are brought up, something seems to awaken within this academic, propelling them into heated and animated discussions. They never seem to sleep.
The punk. They despise how inaccessible academia is. The paywalls, the overly complicated language, and the eurocentrism all piss them off. They will not hesitate to call you out and shred you in the process. Their laptop is (metaphorically) heavy with pirated books and papers. They scan and upload textbooks to the internet for anyone to use, and they routinely sneak people into dining halls and sneak food out. Their notes app is filled with chaotic poetry they write while crossfaded. Their relatives call them a commie jokingly, but, little do they know, they might be spot on.
The daydreamer dressed in tweed. They have messy hair, a sharp gaze dulled by sleeplessness and reading for many long hours, and a fascination with the cursed. They read Donna Tartt. They can recite Shakespeare. But at what cost? They speak in iambic pentameter and spend every inch of their academic life wishing their university wasn’t some 20th century brutalist hunk of cement but an ancient stone building weathered by the centuries. Their view of academia can be eurocentric, but the more they’re exposed to different perspectives, the more they seek them out. They romanticize their caffeine addiction and terrible sleep schedule even though it’s very bad for them.
The decadent. They are a wild one with a Dionysian character. They drink and indulge more often than not. They write drunk poetry and perform it to their friends. Their fashion sense is eccentric: it’s sheer shirts that look like something a vampire would wear, faux fur with a tiger print, loud makeup. They read ravenously, devouring their books. Paperbacks beware: this academic will shred you with the sheer voracity of their note taking. They will destroy the most sentimental pages with copious tears. There is a shrine to Oscar Wilde in their bookshelf, which is entirely composed of different editions of his works. This academic reads essays from the 19th century, the more horrendously decorative the prose, the better. They are always yearning on main, whether it’s for a person or for an experience.
The romantic, a classic manifestation of the dark academic. They’re a lover of Sappho, Byron, Keats. They cry at the Romantics’ depictions of nature. They seek out the Sublime in every aspect of their life. The sunset, the moon peeking through the clouds, the cacophony of birds, and the rustling of leaves in a summer breeze. Every step they take is a symphony of organic strings singing through motion. They collect pretty notebooks, filling them with flowers. They feel every emotion deeply, allowing each one to boil and simmer within them. They love the world so deeply even when it hurts them. They’re a bit of a masochist in that aspect, as they believe that bit of pain amplifies the pleasure.
The artist, the academic who reads The Picture of Dorian Gray and sees themself in Basil; the academic who reads The Worshipper of the Image and knows that they, too, would fall in a tormented and passionate love with Silencieux. The art they make displays their adoration for the subjects they portray. There is a facet of them in every stroke of their creation, and to be viewed by the eyes of this academic is to be made art by their perception. Their characters and motifs have familiar faces and voices. There is a speck of someone you know mixed in with a speck of someone else, all filtered through the lens of the artist-academic.
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