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hishumanbellestories · 3 months ago

Note

idk if you do requests but if you do could you write a Alastor x reader where Y/ and Alastor were close friends when they were alive when Y/n committed suicide so when they start dating in hell Al is super protective. Sorry if this is too much

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Hello! Happy to oblige to this very pleasant request, @helluva-simper! I got a little carried away and I don't know if I completely fulfilled your request. If so, let me know if it disgusts you. ☹ The story is very long… it tells of your friendship and what Alastor does to end up in hell.

WARNING: blood mentioned, murder scenes. The ending is a little sweet/fluff! PART II: click here.

You will find sections dedicated to jealousy and moments of sweet protectiveness/concern towards the bottom, there is a note to indicate it if you want to skip the whole narration. Happy reading!

♡ ♡ ♡

1920 – New Orleans.

The streets were alive with music. Jazz spilled from the clubs, mingling with the scent of sizzling street food and the laughter of passing crowds. The city pulsed with energy, a place where anything felt possible.

You were weaving through the bustling French Quarter, the beads of your necklace clicking together with each hurried step. The warm night air hummed with conversation and the distant trill of a trumpet. That’s when you saw him—leaning casually against a lamppost, arms crossed, a grin playing on his lips:

Alastor.

He had the kind of presence that demanded attention without trying. Sharp brown eyes gleamed with mischief beneath the brim of his fedora, and his suit—impeccably pressed but slightly rumpled from the humid air—suggested he had a knack for looking effortlessly put-together.

“Now, there’s a face I don’t recognize!” he called out, voice brimming with exaggerated cheer. “What brings a fine young lady like yourself out into this wild, untamed city?”

You smirked, raising a brow. “You say that like you’re not part of the wild.”

Alastor let out a laugh—bright, unrestrained. “Guilty as charged! But I do like to think I bring a certain flair to the madness.” He tilted his head, studying you with amused curiosity. “You’ve got the look of someone with a story. Care to share?”

You weren’t sure why, but something about him felt instantly familiar—like you had known him before, in another life. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself, like he belonged to the city as much as the music did. Either way, you felt no hesitation as you grinned back at him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” you countered.

Alastor's eyes lit up, and he extended a hand with an almost theatrical flourish. “Then, my dear, we have ourselves a deal! Let’s find a proper place for storytelling—somewhere with good music and even better company.”

And just like that, the night began.

The first meeting was just the beginning. What started as playful banter on the streets of New Orleans quickly turned into something more—a friendship unlike any other.

Alastor had a way of making the world feel electric, as if life itself were a performance and he was the master of ceremonies. You, on the other hand, had a way of grounding him just enough, pulling him back from his more reckless impulses while still encouraging his mischief. Together, you balanced each other out in a way that neither of you had expected but both of you secretly needed. The two of you became inseparable. Whether it was sneaking into speakeasies, dancing until your feet ached, or sitting by the Mississippi River sharing stories about dreams and the absurdities of life, there was never a dull moment.

“You, my dear, are one of the few people in this world who truly understand me,” Alastor declared one evening, tipping his hat back as he leaned against a balcony railing. “And that is either a wonderful thing… or a truly terrifying one.”

You chuckled, nudging his arm. “Terrifying for who?”

He turned to you, grin wide, eyes gleaming in the gaslight. “Why, the rest of the world, of course!”

And honestly? He wasn’t wrong. You had a way of finishing each other’s sentences, of knowing exactly what the other was thinking with just a glance. Whether it was pulling elaborate pranks on unsuspecting bystanders (all in good fun, of course) or covering for each other when trouble inevitably followed, you were a team.

“I swear, if you ever get yourself locked up, I might consider bailing you out,” you teased one night after Alastor narrowly avoided getting into a scuffle at a particularly rowdy club.

“Might?” he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “How cruel! After all we’ve been through!”

You smirked. “Oh, I’d bail you out… but not before letting you stew for a few hours first.”

Alastor let out a laugh—loud and full of life. “Now that is why we’re friends. You’re almost as devious as me.”

There were moments—brief and fleeting—where the laughter faded and something deeper settled between you. Those were the nights when the world felt quieter, when Alastor would stop grinning just long enough for you to catch glimpses of something else in his eyes.

“Ever wonder what comes next?” you asked once, lying on the grass in a park long after midnight, staring up at the stars.

Alastor was silent for a moment before answering, “sometimes.” Then, after a pause, “but as long as I have a friend like you, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about being alone in whatever comes next.” You turned your head to look at him, surprised by the rare sincerity in his voice. He met your gaze and, for once, there was no mischief, no mask—just Alastor, your best friend. You smiled, but your smile seemed unconvincing to his eyes, and the gleam in your eyes was no longer the same. Something gripped you from inside. Alastor had become a part of you, but it wasn't enough.

He was a constant need.

Something in your chest was blooming and it was heavy.

It started subtly. Alastor noticed before you even said a word. The way your laughter became softer, less frequent. The way your eyes—once alight with mischief—began to dim. You still showed up, still went along with his antics, but something in you had changed.

At first, he acted as if nothing was different, thinking you’d snap out of it on your own. But then, one night, he found you alone, sitting on the edge of the riverbank, staring into the dark water as if it were calling your name. And that’s when he knew—this wasn’t something he could ignore.

He sat beside you, unusually quiet. The city still buzzed behind you, jazz and laughter filling the streets, but here, it was just the two of you and the sound of water lapping against the shore.

“You’re not well,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

You let out a tired breath, your arms wrapped around your knees. “No, I’m not.”

You really wanted to share the burden, how you felt, the heaviness of the world and not feeling enough… especially that he didn't see you the way you did, but your thoughts were incomprehensible. How could he love someone like you?

Alastor wasn’t the type to fumble for words, but for the first time in a long time, he felt at a loss. He could charm his way out of almost anything, but this—this was different. This was you, his best friend, slipping away from him in a way he didn’t know how to stop.

“Do you ever think… maybe it’d be easier if I just—” , you hesitated, fingers gripping your arms a little tighter.

Alastor’s grin vanished.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice sharper than usual. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden intensity in his tone. He turned to face you fully, his usual playful expression replaced by something raw. Something desperate.

“You cannot leave me,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less fierce. “I refuse to allow it. We have a deal, remember?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “You can’t exactly stop me, Al.”

He leaned forward, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Maybe not. But I can remind you why you shouldn’t.”

Before you could react, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, worn-out trinket—a cheap little charm you had won for him at a carnival months ago. You barely remembered it, but he had kept it.

“This ridiculous thing,” he said, rolling it between his fingers, “is completely worthless. And yet, every time I look at it, I remember you. The way you cheated at that ring toss, the way you laughed when I nearly tripped over that poor man’s dog.” He exhaled sharply. “And if this stupid thing can hold that much meaning to me… imagine how much you mean to me.” But not enough… you thought.

Your throat tightened. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear something like that.

Alastor suddenly reached out and grabbed your hands, his grip firm, grounding. “Listen to me. The world is a cruel, wretched place, I won’t deny it. But you?”, he smiled then—small, sincere. “You make it bearable. And if you leave, who will remind me that life isn’t all bad?”

You swallowed hard, looking down at your intertwined hands. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

“You don’t have to,” he said simply. “You just have to stay.”

The river still whispered below, the city still pulsed behind you. But in that moment, sitting beside Alastor, his hands holding yours as if he could keep you tethered to the world—something shifted. The weight on your chest didn’t disappear, but it felt just a little lighter.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.

Alastor knew something was wrong the moment you vanished.

At first, he convinced himself it was temporary. That you just needed time. That you’d come back, and he’d tease you about running off without telling him. He’d call you a terrible friend for worrying him and then demand you make it up to him with a night on the town.

But days passed. Then a week.

And then... he found out.

Your name echoed through the streets like a ghostly whisper, carried by murmurs of sorrow and disbelief. Alastor stood frozen, heart pounding as the words reached him—words he didn’t want to believe.

You were gone.

And you had taken yourself from the world.

For the first time in his life, Alastor felt the breath leave his lungs in a way that had nothing to do with laughter. His mind refused to accept it. His body rejected the reality of it. But the truth remained.

You were gone.

He didn’t remember much of what happened after. Someone tried to console him. Someone tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t hear them. He didn’t hear anything. The world had lost all sound. All color. All joy.

And then came the anger.

It started as a slow, simmering rage—a silent, festering wound deep in his chest. But grief is a twisted thing, and Alastor was not built to handle loss in the way ordinary men did.

He was not an ordinary man.

The first girl died only days after your funeral. She had your hair. Your laugh. He heard it across the street and for a fleeting, impossible second, he thought—You came back.

But it wasn’t you. It would never be you...

And if the world had taken you from him, then he would take from the world.

One by one, the women who bore even the slightest resemblance to you began to disappear. Some were found—lifeless, their bodies discarded like forgotten memories. Others were never seen again.

Alastor was careful at first. He didn’t want to get caught. But as the weeks stretched into months, his grief evolved into something insatiable. He no longer cared about consequences. He wanted them to know. He wanted them to fear him.

Because if he had to live in a world without you, then the world would learn to suffer as he did.

The city spoke of him in hushed voices, afraid to say his name too loudly. The newspapers called him The Butcher of New Orleans, but the radio stations had a different name—The Smiling Devil.

They said he never stopped grinning. That even as he ended their lives, he hummed little tunes, like it was all just a grand performance.

They didn’t know the truth.

That he wasn’t smiling.

That it was just his teeth, bared in grief so deep it had turned into something unrecognizable.

That the songs he hummed were the ones you used to sing.

But none of it mattered anymore. Nothing did. Because the only person who had ever truly seen him—the only person who had made life bearable—was gone.

And so, Alastor continued his symphony of slaughter, letting the city drown in the echoes of his suffering.

Until, one night, as he stared into the mirror, covered in blood and surrounded by the remnants of his latest victim—

He swore he heard your voice.

And for the first time since losing you…

The smile on his face faltered.

Alastor stood motionless, breath hitching as the whisper of your voice curled through the air like cigarette smoke.

It was impossible. He was losing his mind.

And yet…

“… Alastor.”

His blood ran cold. His name, spoken so softly, so familiar, yet carrying the weight of something beyond the grave. He turned sharply, but the dim glow of his apartment revealed nothing. Only the remnants of his latest crime—a body slumped in the corner, eyes wide, lips frozen in a scream. A woman who had your hair, your face, your shape—who had been a pathetic, fragile imitation of you.

His pulse roared in his ears. The radio crackled with static, his own heartbeat distorted into white noise.

“… Why?”

The question wasn’t from the radio. It was from you.

A slow, eerie grin stretched across his face, but it was empty. A reflex. A mask. His voice came out smooth, but there was something desperate beneath it.

“Why what, my dear?”

The silence that followed felt suffocating. He swallowed, suddenly aware of how cold the room had become. His fingers twitched at his sides. He felt it again—your presence, unseen but unmistakable.

“… This isn’t what I wanted.”

Alastor stiffened.

Ah. So that’s what this was. Guilt, slipping in through the cracks. He had thought himself immune to it, but hearing your voice again? It was different.

“Oh, but you see,” he murmured, tilting his head as he addressed the empty room, “what you wanted no longer matters. Because you left me.” His voice darkened, laced with something venomous. “And now I’ve made sure the world remembers you.”

A flicker in the corner of his vision. A shadow? A trick of the dim light? No—you were here.

Alastor clenched his fists, something twisting in his gut. His smile wavered. He should feel triumphant. He had honored you in the only way he knew how—with violence, with chaos, with the ruin of everything that dared to resemble you.

Then why… did he feel like he had failed you?

“Alastor…” Your voice was barely a whisper, a breath against his ear, a sound carried by the wind itself. “I was hurting. And you—”

He stepped forward, reaching out, but there was nothing to grasp. Just air. Just absence.

“I needed you.”

A laugh—high-pitched, jagged—bubbled up from his throat, unsteady and wrong. His fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into his own flesh.

“I tried!” he snapped, voice cracking, his mask slipping. “I told you to stay! I begged you to—”

Silence.

A void where your voice should be.

And for the first time in his life, Alastor felt something unfamiliar clawing at his chest.

Not anger.

Not madness.

Not even grief.

But regret.

The radio hummed. The body on the floor remained lifeless.

And Alastor, for all his power, for all his wit, for all his control—stood there, for once, with nothing.

Just the ghost of you. And the echoes of a laughter he would never hear again.

Alastor was losing himself.

The killings had been satisfying at first. Each act of violence had been a desperate grasp at control, a way to fill the gaping void you had left behind. But now—now, even as blood pooled at his feet, even as screams rang in his ears—there was no satisfaction. No relief.

Only you.

He saw you in every shadow. Heard you in every whisper of wind, every crackle of his beloved radio.

And worst of all? He felt you.

You haunted him in ways he couldn’t escape. Not in the way spirits haunted old homes or restless souls clung to their unfinished business. No—you haunted the very fabric of him.

He had always been a man of control, sharp and calculated, always three steps ahead. But now? He felt unraveled.

The change began slowly. A creeping sensation in his chest, a disturbance in his mind.

At first, it was just the dreams. Nightmares, if he were being honest—though he’d never admit to fearing them. He dreamed of the river, of your reflection staring back at him from the black water. Your eyes empty, accusing. He dreamed of reaching for you, only for your image to ripple and disappear, leaving him gasping for air.

Then came the waking moments of displacement.

He would enter a room and forget why he was there. Hear a voice—your voice—only to turn and find nothing. Food lost its taste. Music lost its charm. Even his own laughter—once so effortless—felt wrong. Forced.

His mind fractured further with each passing day.

The killings became less about vengeance and more about habit. A desperate attempt to feel something. But they no longer served their purpose.

Nothing did.

And that’s when he realized—he was changing.

The transformation was not sudden, nor was it entirely physical.

Oh, he still looked human, at least in the mirror. But inside? Something fundamental was shifting.

His once brilliant mind—sharp as a knife—now teetered on the edge of something far darker. He had always been clever, but now his thoughts felt inhuman. Detached. Cold.

He began to crave things he could not name. His body itched for something beyond flesh, beyond blood. He could feel his soul twisting into something grotesque, stretching toward something otherworldly.

It wasn’t just madness.

It was evolution.

The final breaking point came when he tried to speak to you.

Tried to summon you—truly summon you.

Through old rituals, through whispers in the dark, through desperate, fevered attempts to bring you back.

But nothing worked.

Because you were gone.

And so, Alastor did the only thing left to do.

He laughed.

He laughed until his throat burned, until his ribs ached, until the world around him seemed to distort under the weight of his hysteria.

And in that moment, something inside him snapped.

The man he had once been—the clever, charming, mischievous man who had loved you—died that night.

And in his place, something else was born.

Something with sharper teeth. Something with a hunger that could never be sated. Something that no longer cared for the limits of mortality.

And so, Alastor stepped fully into the madness, embraced the darkness, and let the last shreds of his humanity rot.

For without you—

There was nothing left worth saving.

The swamp was alive with the hum of cicadas, the distant croak of bullfrogs, and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. The night stretched on, dark and endless, as Alastor dragged yet another lifeless body through the underbrush.

It had become a ritual by now. He worked alone, humming some jazz tune under his breath, the weight of his latest victim barely a bother. He had done this so many times. The city was catching on to the string of missing women, but no one suspected him. No one ever suspected the man with the charming smile and the quick wit.

Until now.

A sudden snap of a twig.

Alastor froze, fingers tightening around the corpse’s wrist. His head tilted slightly, ears picking up the faintest movement in the distance. Someone else was here.

Hunters.

The realization hit just as he spotted the faint glow of a lantern through the trees.

Then—

BANG!

Pain. A sharp, searing pain tore through his chest. His breath hitched as he stumbled backward, his grip on the body loosening.

BANG! BANG!

Another shot—this time, his leg buckled beneath him. He collapsed to the damp earth, gasping as warmth spread through his clothing. Blood.

He could hear them talking, could barely make out their figures through the dense foliage.

"Didja see that?! We got ‘im!"

"Damn thing’s huge—look at those antlers!"

His vision blurred. His body ached, cold creeping into his fingers. But he barely noticed—because something was wrong.

His hands—his fingers��were stretching, warping into something unnatural.

Antlers.

He could feel them growing, twisting out from his skull. His body contorted, reshaping itself, the pain of death giving way to something even stranger.

His last breath came out as a laugh—a wheezing, broken chuckle that sent a chill down the hunters' spines.

And then—

Nothing.

Alastor awoke to a world bathed in red.

The sky above churned with crimson clouds, the ground beneath him cracked and scorched. He pushed himself up, disoriented, his body still tingling from the sensation of becoming.

And then he saw his reflection.

The murky water of a nearby puddle rippled, distorting his face—but there was no mistaking it. His features were still his own, but… changed.

His eyes glowed with an unnatural red light. His ears were long, pointed. And his smile—his signature, ever-present smile—felt sharper.

But the most striking change?

The massive set of deer antlers crowning his head.

Something deep inside him stirred, and as the realization settled in, Alastor did the only thing that felt right.

He threw back his head—

And laughed.

Hell had given him a new form, a fitting form.

And Alastor?

He was going to enjoy this.

Hell was not what you had expected.

It wasn’t fire and brimstone, nor was it eternal torment—at least, not in the way the preachers had warned. It was loud, chaotic, an endless city pulsing with neon lights and strange, inhuman creatures.

And somehow, you were here.

Your memories were hazy, blurred at the edges, but the weight of your death still clung to you. The pain, the loneliness, the finality of it all—it had been too much. And yet, instead of fading into oblivion, you had woken up in this strange, twisted afterlife.

And then, you met him.

At first, you thought he was just another demon. His sharp suit, his unnerving red eyes, the way he grinned like he knew a joke no one else did—it all fit the description.

But there was something familiar about him.

Something in the way he spoke, the way he tilted his head when he looked at you, like he knew you from somewhere.

And then—

"Why, if it isn’t my dear, darling, Y/N!"

His voice was a melody, smooth and rich like a radio host’s, yet laced with something darker.

You froze.

He knew your name.

And suddenly, it hit you. The way he carried himself, that unmistakable laugh, the gleam of amusement in his eyes that never quite reached his soul.

No. It couldn’t be!

"Alastor…?"

His grin widened. "Ah, so you do remember me! My, my, what a reunion! And here I thought I was the only one who got a second chance at—shall we say—infamy?"

You took a step back, heart pounding. This wasn’t the man you had known. He looked like him, sounded like him, but everything about him was… wrong.

The Alastor you had known—your dear friend—had been mischievous, yes, but not like this. Not this predatory, bloodstained thing standing before you.

"What happened to you?" you breathed.

His laughter rang out, bright and sharp. "Oh, sweetheart... YOU, happened! Your little disappearance sent me on quite the downward spiral! And, well… let’s just say I took up a new hobby." His eyes glowed with something unreadable. "Turns out, Hell appreciates a man with a knack for… entertainment."

Your stomach twisted.

You had left him behind in life, and now?

Now, he was something else.

Something monstrous.

And yet—

Even as fear curled in your chest, even as you saw the demon he had become, a part of you still saw him.

Alastor.

Your friend.

And that part of you couldn’t help but wonder—

Was there anything left of the man you had once loved?

The air between you was thick with unspoken words.

Alastor was still grinning, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something unreadable, something unsettling. He had changed, but so had you. And now, standing before him in this twisted afterlife, you knew you couldn’t keep the truth buried any longer.

You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest.

"Alastor," you said, your voice softer than you meant it to be. "I—I never meant to leave you like that."

His grin didn't waver, but his head tilted slightly, as if he were listening to a song only he could hear.

You took a shaky breath. "I—", your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to say it. "I loved you, Alastor. I always did."

Silence.

His expression didn't change. Not at first. But his fingers twitched ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Ah," he finally said, voice smooth as ever. "Is that what it was all about?"

You nodded, unable to look away.

Alastor let out a slow chuckle, shaking his head. "And here I thought you were just mysterious."

You frowned, confusion twisting in your gut. "Alastor—"

"Darling, darling," he interrupted, lifting a hand as if to stop your words. "Why so serious? We’re in Hell! Surely, there’s no need for all this brooding when we have eternity to waste!"

You blinked. "What?"

He clapped his hands together. "Tell you what, sweetheart—why don’t we go paint the town red? And no, no—" he wagged a finger playfully, "not that kind of red. I mean, unless you're feeling violent." He chuckled at his own joke.

Your mind reeled. He was deflecting.

After everything you had just said, after everything—was this really all he had to say?

"Alastor," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Do you—did you ever feel the same?"

His eyes glowed.

For a split second, his grin faltered—just a fraction.

Then, as quickly as it had faded, it was back in full force.

"Now, now, dear," he purred, stepping closer. "That’s an awfully dangerous question, don’t you think?"

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his face inches from yours.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled away with a theatrical twirl. "Come now, let’s not dwell on silly things like the past! You’ve got a second chance, I’ve got a second chance—why not make the most of it?"

He extended a hand toward you, his grin unwavering. "So, what do you say, dearest? Care to join me for a night on the town?"

Your heart ached.

He was deflecting. Hiding behind jokes, behind that ever-present grin. But beneath it all, you saw something else—something buried deep.

A hesitation.

A fear.

A truth he wasn’t ready to speak.

You glanced at his outstretched hand, then back at his face.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to face the truth just yet.

Maybe he never would be.

But for now?

For now, you could take his hand.

And see where the night would take you.

At first, it was just fun.

You and Alastor—together again, painting Hell with laughter and chaos, just like old times. He took you everywhere, showing you the wonders (and horrors) of the afterlife, always keeping you close, always grinning.

It was as if nothing had changed.

Except everything had.

Because now, you both knew the truth.

You had loved him in life. Had lost yourself in sorrow, thinking he never cared. And he—well, Alastor never admitted things outright, but you saw it now.

The way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking.

The way his fingers twitched, as if itching to touch you but not daring to.

The way his voice softened just slightly when he said your name.

And then, one night, he finally broke.

You had been teasing him—nothing new, just playful banter, a joke about his unbreakable grin.

But instead of laughing, he had gone silent.

Then, without warning, he had grabbed your wrist, pulling you close, his grin sharp but his eyes unreadable.

"You left me," he had said, voice unusually quiet. "Do you have any idea what you did to me, my dearest?"

Your breath caught. "Alastor—"

"I don’t lose things." His fingers tightened just a fraction. "I don’t let things go. But you… you were gone. And I—". He cut himself off, his usual humor nowhere to be found.

You reached for his hand. "I’m here now."

He stared at you for a long moment. Then—

He laughed.

But this time, it wasn’t mocking or theatrical. It was relieved.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. "Well, I suppose that means I’ll just have to make sure you don’t go disappearing on me again, hmm?"

And from that moment on—he didn’t let you go.

You were together, always.

The Radio Demon and his darling—Hell’s most inseparable pair.

It had been building for weeks.

Alastor was always by your side—more than before, more than ever. If you moved, he moved. If you laughed, he laughed. If you so much as sighed, he was right there, grinning, tilting his head, asking in that smooth, playful voice, “what’s on your mind, darling?”

But something was different.

The way he looked at you lingered too long. The way he touched your wrist, your shoulder, your waist—light, fleeting, but always there—spoke of something deeper.

And then, one evening, he finally snapped.

You were strolling through the streets of Hell, passing under neon lights and the ever-present hum of the afterlife’s chaos. Alastor had been oddly quiet—for him, anyway. No dramatic narration, no wild bursts of laughter, just… watching you.

You stopped, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

His grin widened—sharp, knowing. "Oh, nothing, my dear! Just admiring something that belongs to me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Alastor—"

"Tell me something, sweetheart," he interrupted, stepping closer, eyes glowing. "Did you ever consider just saying something back in the mortal world? Or did you enjoy making me suffer?"

You blinked. "Making you suffer?"

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, woe is me! My dearest, darling companion, struck down by despair because she thought I didn’t care—", his voice dropped, silky and smooth. "When in reality…"

A pause.

A grin.

A flash of red eyes beneath the glow of Hell’s eternal lights.

"I simply didn’t realize how much I needed you."

Your breath caught. "Alastor—"

"So!", he clapped his hands together, suddenly bursting with energy. "Since we’ve already done this whole ‘tragic longing’ thing, let’s skip to the fun part, shall we?"

He bowed dramatically, extending a hand toward you, eyes gleaming. "My dear, delightful Y/N—what do you say we make this little arrangement of ours official?"

You stared. "Are you… asking me out?"

He grinned. "Darling, I’m claiming you. But if you prefer something more traditional, well—consider this your official invitation to be courted by the one and only Radio Demon!"

Your lips parted, heart racing.

This was insane.

This was Alastor.

And yet—

You slid your hand into his.

"Took you long enough," you murmured, smirking.

His laughter rang out like music, his fingers curling around yours. "Oh, my dear," he purred. "You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for."

And just like that—

Hell’s most dangerous and inseparable couple was born.

Alastor's jealousy.

From the moment you set foot in the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor never left your side.

Oh, sure, he pretended he wasn’t clinging to you. He acted as if he was simply amused by your presence, as if you were just an interesting little pet to keep entertained.

But you knew better.

His sarcasm never faded. His teasing never stopped.

"Careful, dearest! Wouldn’t want you tripping over your own feet and landing in someone’s clutches! I hear certain demons love picking up strays—oh, but don’t worry!", he leaned in, grinning sharp as a blade. "I’d simply have to rip them apart, now wouldn’t I?"

You rolled your eyes. "Alastor, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart!" he chirped, looping an arm around your shoulders. "That’s why I let you think you’re independent! It’s simply adorable—like watching a baby bird flap its little wings before tumbling right back into my talons!"

Despite his words, his grip on you was firm.

And as you got to know the hotel’s residents—Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk—you noticed something strange.

Alastor didn’t like how quickly people warmed up to you.

Charlie adored you from the start. Angel Dust practically draped himself over you, calling you “sweetheart” and “sugar” and throwing playful winks your way. Niffty loved fussing over you, and Husk—well, Husk didn’t hate you, which said a lot.

And Alastor?

He just watched.

Watched them.

Watched you.

And the more he watched, the tighter his grip became.

"My, my," he’d say with a chuckle whenever Angel Dust got too close, "it’s so fascinating how some creatures just flock to the most dangerously naive souls!"

You shot him a look. "Alastor—"

"Oh, don’t mind me!" he sang, swaying beside you. "I’m simply delighted by how easy it is for people to love you! Truly, it’s a miracle you weren’t snatched up by some unsavory characters long before I got my claws into you!"

His grin widened. "Oh, but don’t worry, dear! I’ll make sure that never happens."

And he did.

Subtly. Silently. Without ever admitting it outright.

When Angel Dust got a little too touchy, Alastor’s voice would suddenly cut in—cheerful, mocking, but firm.

"Oh, Angel, darling, let’s not forget whose company she prefers now, hmm?"

When a stranger tried flirting with you at the hotel? Alastor would simply appear beside them, laughing, grinning—his shadow stretching just a little too far, curling just a little too hungrily.

"Oh, how charming!" he’d croon. "But do tell me, dear guest, do you value your existence? No? Ahaha! Excellent!"

And when you got hurt?

Even something small—a scrape, a stumble—he was there before you could react.

"Tsk, tsk!" he’d sigh dramatically, offering his hand. "Must I do everything around here? Honestly, you’d be lost without me!"

You scoffed, taking his hand. "You don’t have to be so dramatic."

"Darling," he said, voice smooth as velvet, "I’m always dramatic. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong."

You squeezed his fingers. "Alastor."

For just a moment, his grin softened.

Just a fraction. Just enough.

Then, just as quickly, it was back.

"Now, then!" he declared, twirling you away from whatever danger had dared approach you. "Shall we continue this delightful little adventure? After all, Hell’s simply full of surprises! And I’d hate for you to face them without me!"

You laughed. "Like you’d ever let that happen."

His eyes gleamed.

"Oh, my dear," he murmured, "you have no idea."

Alastor's protectiviness.

Alastor was not a man easily shaken.

He had danced through massacres with a grin, turned suffering into a symphony, and waltzed through Hell with his usual flair. He had never known fear.

Until you.

At first, he brushed it off. Of course, he liked keeping you close—who wouldn’t? You were delightful, charming, his! But then… he started noticing things.

How sometimes, your laughter faltered.

How sometimes, your eyes drifted, seeing something else.

How sometimes, you would disappear into yourself—not physically, but mentally, trapped in some dark corner of your thoughts.

And that? That terrified him.

Because he knew what happened when people lingered in sorrow too long.

He had lost you once already.

He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

So he never left you alone.

"Darling!" his voice rang out too cheerfully whenever he caught you slipping into thought. "Why the melancholy? Bored of Hell already? I told you, dear, I’d be your eternal entertainment, but really—I thought I had more time before you started questioning your life choices! Ahaha!"

He talked constantly—more than usual, filling every quiet moment with sound, ensuring that your thoughts never got too loud.

If he ever caught you alone, lost in your head?

"Tsk, tsk!" he’d click his tongue, appearing beside you in an instant. "Now, what did I say about wandering into dangerous places?"

"Alastor, I’m just thinking—"

"Oh, I know that look, my dear! And I simply refuse to let you fall into bad habits! Now!" he’d clasp his hands together, grinning just a little too wide. "Shall we dance? Murder? Cause delightful chaos? Or perhaps you’d prefer a story—something to distract that beautiful little mind of yours?"

You sighed. "You don’t have to hover, you know."

His grin never wavered. But his fingers twitched.

"Oh, but I do, darling." His voice dipped—just for a second, too soft. "You’re simply terrible at being left alone."

And that was the real reason.

It wasn’t just protectiveness.

It was fear.

Fear of silence. Fear of losing you again.

So he never let you drift. Never let you isolate. Never let you forget—

That you weren’t alone.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

It was just a knife.

A simple, ordinary knife.

You had gone to the kitchen to cook, humming softly to yourself as you grabbed it from the counter. Just like always. Just like anyone would.

But the moment Alastor saw you holding it—

BANG!

In a flash, the knife was out of your hand, clattering to the floor as Alastor’s cane struck it away.

And then—

A hand gripping your wrist.

Tight. Too tight.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

His voice was light. Too light. That awful, sing-song lilt still dancing in his words—

But his grip?

His grin?

His eyes?

They were wrong.

Red. Wide. Unblinking. Terrified.

"Alastor—"

"Did you think I wouldn’t notice?" he pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin. "Did you think I’d let you do this again?"

Your heart stopped. "Alastor, I was just—"

"Just what?" His smile twitched. "Just holding a knife? Just standing here all alone? Just thinking—"

His breath hitched.

And suddenly, you weren’t standing anymore.

You were crushed against his chest.

His arms were wrapped around you—vice-like, unyielding, desperate.

"No." His voice cracked, barely a whisper. "No, no, no, I won’t let you."

"Alastor—"

"You left me once," his breath was shaking. "You disappeared, you were gone, and I—"

He buried his face in your hair.

"I lost you."

You felt his entire body shudder.

"I can’t—" his voice broke into static. "I won’t lose you again."

And that’s when you realized—

This wasn’t just protectiveness.

It was obsession.

Fear.

A crippling, suffocating fear that had hollowed him out from the inside, left him raw, left him feral at the mere sight of you with a blade in your hand.

Because to Alastor, that knife wasn’t for cooking.

It was for stealing you away from him.

Again.

Forever.

And he’d burn all of Hell before he let that happen.

1. When You Take Too Long in the Bathroom

It started small.

A simple, human habit—closing the door when you went to freshen up.

But if you took too long, Alastor would knock—once, twice—before phasing straight through the wall, appearing inside with a grin.

"Oh, darling! Are you hiding from me?" his voice was cheerful, mocking, but his fingers twitched against his cane. "Or were you just hoping I’d come check on you?"

"Alastor, I’m fine—"

"Are you?" he tilted his head, eyes piercing. "You are alone in here, after all. Just you and that dangerous little mind of yours. Terribly unsafe, if you ask me!"

You sighed. "I was literally just brushing my hair."

His grin never wavered.

"Ah, but you see, my dear," he leaned closer, caging you in, "you have a terrible habit of thinking when you’re alone. And I simply can’t allow that."

From then on, the bathroom door never stayed closed for long.

2. When You Didn’t Answer Him Immediately

If you ever didn’t answer when he called—

"Sweetheart!"

Silence.

The air shifted.

"Darling?"

Nothing.

Static began to hum.

And before you could even realize what was happening—

He was there.

"Ah, there you are!" his voice was too bright, his smile stretched too wide. "For a moment, I thought you were ignoring me!"

You blinked. "Alastor, I was just—"

"Oh, I know what you were doing!" his laugh was sharp, too sharp. "You were lost in that pretty little head of yours! Drifting!"

His grin twitched.

"I hate when you do that."

From then on, if you didn’t answer immediately, he’d find you. No matter where you were.

3. When You Tried to Walk Away from a Fight

It happened once. Just once.

Some demon had been too bold, said something too cruel—and instead of fighting, you had turned away.

Big mistake.

Because before you could take two steps—

SNAP.

In an instant, Alastor’s hand was on you, pulling you back, his claws digging into your skin.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

His voice was low.

Dangerous.

"I-"

"No."

His grip tightened.

"You don’t walk away when someone disrespects you." His smile was gone. His eyes burned. "You stand beside me and watch as I tear them apart."

From then on, you never walked away from a fight.

Not because you were afraid of them.

But because you knew—

Alastor would always fight for you.

4. When You Said You Needed “Space”

One night, after a long day, you sighed. "Alastor… I think I just need some space tonight."

Silence.

His grin froze.

And then—

A chuckle.

"Ahahaha! Oh, darling! What a funny little joke!"

You frowned. "I wasn’t joking—"

"Oh, but you must be! Because surely—surely—you don’t think I’d leave you alone just because you asked me to! Ahaha!"

He leaned closer, eyes wild.

"You don’t need space from me, sweetheart."

His fingers trailed along your arm, light, possessive.

"You need me."

From then on, “space” was no longer part of your vocabulary.

Not because you didn’t need it.

But because you knew—

Alastor would never give it to you.

The night was quiet.

Too quiet.

You sat on the edge of the terrace, legs dangling over the abyss of Hell’s endless void. The sky stretched above you—red, empty, mocking. The city lights flickered below, distant, meaningless.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt small.

Lost in the nothingness.

You didn’t hear him approach.

Not until—

"Oh, darling…"

His voice was too soft.

The moment you turned your head—

He was there.

Standing a few feet away, frozen, his ever-present grin strained. His eyes—wide, glowing, terrified.

"What a dangerous little spot you’ve found yourself in!" his voice was still playful, still teasing—but his fingers twitched against his cane, his whole body rigid. "And all alone, too! My, my—what would I do if you fell?"

You blinked, pulling yourself from your thoughts. "Alastor, I was just looking at the—"

"The sky?" he let out a sharp, hollow laugh. "Oh, of course you were! Nothing concerning about sitting on the edge of oblivion, alone, quiet, lost in your thoughts..."

His breath hitched.

In an instant, he moved.

A flash of red. A rush of static—

And suddenly, arms were around you.

Yanking you back.

Dragging you away from the ledge.

The world spun, and before you could protest—

You were in his lap.

His grip was iron.

His arms—wrapped tight around you, chest pressed against your back, breath shaking against your ear.

"You terrify me sometimes, you know that?"

His voice was low.

The ever-present laughter in his tone—gone.

You swallowed. "Alastor—"

"Shh." His grip tightened. "Don’t—don’t ever do that again."

A tremor ran through him. His fingers dug into your sides, clutching, desperate.

"You can’t leave me again."

It wasn’t a plea.

It was a command.

An unshakable truth. A law of the universe.

Because Alastor had lost you once.

And if Hell itself thought it could take you from him again—

He would tear it apart.

His grip on you was unrelenting.

His breath—shaky, uneven, desperate.

His heart—if he even still had one—was pounding against your back.

"You can’t leave me again."

The words lingered in the air, heavy, suffocating.

You swallowed hard. "Alastor…"

He said nothing.

Did nothing.

Just held you.

And then—

Slowly, shakily—he turned you in his arms.

His hands moved to cup your face, fingers trembling against your skin as if afraid you’d vanish the moment he let go.

His eyes—wide, wild—searched yours, glowing red, burning with something raw, something dangerous.

"I won’t let you slip away from me."

His voice was low, almost a whisper.

His thumb traced your cheek.

"Never again."

And then—

His lips crashed into yours.

Desperate. Starving.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was raw, possessive, terrifying.

Like he was claiming you. Like he was branding you into his very existence, ensuring that no force in Hell—or beyond—could ever take you away from him again.

The static in the air hummed.

His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling, clutching, refusing to let go.

The kiss deepened, his breath faltering against your lips, as if he had needed this—needed you—more than he had ever needed anything in his wretched existence.

When he finally broke away, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his grin nowhere to be seen.

"You’re mine now, darling." his voice was hoarse, trembling with something dark, something devotional.

His lips ghosted over yours again, softer this time.

"And I’m never letting you go."

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yumeka-sxf · 1 year ago

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I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.

I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!

We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.

Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.

People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.

To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.

And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

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blueberry-ash · 6 months ago

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Accidentally re-read Chapter 400-403 of the TKA novel, and now I'm invested in the idea of Ye Qiu finally getting to just... have his turn at stepping away from Ye family obligations.

(Random segue: this section of Ye Xiu backstory is absolutely one of those areas where I really feel Ye Xiu is an unreliable narrator when it comes to talking about himself. Yes, sure, he definitely saw his brother's Running Away Suitcase and nicked it, taking the chance to run away himself. But the stuff implying that he, in that moment, had a reasonable plan about going pro as a gamer, with a baked-in end date, etc etc, whereas all Ye Qiu wanted was to leave...? I don't really buy that. Nobody was going pro with Glory at that point, okay? And even if he really did leave to go play video games, doesn't that also sound just like a little boy (same as his brother), eager to jettison himself from their family situation? Maybe I have the timelines wrong, but I'm really pretty sure that Glory, and being a pro-gamer, and all that really only came along with Su Muqiu, by which point Ye Xiu is implied to have been basically living in internet cafes. That does not really sound like a kid with a plan significantly crafted beyond Opportunistically Leave and Do Frowned-Upon Hobby, okay?)

But. Uh. That aside. What I now want is the story where Ye Qiu finally does get his chance to just... fuck off for a while. To just leave. Not shoulder his parents' expectations, or even his own, just... go away, and maybe en route figure out what his dream actually is?

Except, I think you'd have to machinate an external excuse to allow him to do that, at this point. He's spent too long being The Good Son, y'know? That's not an easy habit to break. And it probably won't be made any easier even if/when Ye Xiu does actually return to co-shoulder the Ye family business or whatever, because even in a scenario where Ye Xiu does genuinely decide to invest himself in that in a wholehearted way, Ye Xiu is still never going to do it in a Ye Qiu Would Do It This Way kind of way.

Actually, I think watching Ye Xiu very successfully "Ye Xiu"ing his way through the tasks and expectations, which Ye Qiu has been making such a point of doing so dutifully and correctly all this time, would probably be a whole new kind of hell for Ye Qiu, ngl.

All of which somehow leads me to the wacky crack-y suggestion of: Local Pro Players Realise The Existence Of Ye Qiu Is Ultimately The Fundamental Reason God Ye Has Been Able To Be Their Great Goal And/Or Rival All These Years; They Reward The Guy By Kidnapping Him From His Corporate Life Of Responsibilities and Showing Him A Good Time. Which would, of course, lead to chaotic shenanigans all around, surely, since I truly believe he has ZERO interest in video games, and most of them probably aren't all that experienced at a huuuuge amount of stuff outside of them. The hell do they even end up? Dragging him off on a holiday that goes impossibly wrong, but somehow in a fun way--? I Have No Idea!

Of course, that or... Chen Guo just randomly tells him he's doing a direct swap with Ye Xiu, cheers, meaning he's now hired at the Internet Cafe/some administrative part of Team Happy, please and thank you, enjoy your newfound levels of relatively low pressure work, questionable pay, and excellent socialisation opportunities as we plunge you face-first into geek culture, sorry not sorry. Also, btw, this girl(boy)(whoever) from the front desk seems to have taken a fancy to you, have fun.

#the king's avatar #why do i still not have a rambling tag #this really needs a rambling tag #ye qiu

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askthe-r-m-au · 4 months ago

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☆WELCOME TO THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!!!♧

☆My name is Caine!!☆

♧And my name is Pomni!!♧

Hi uh This is the Mod for this blog!! You can call me Ella or Daysee! As you may or may bot know, this is an askblog for my TADC RING-MISSTRESS AU! Please read the Info and rules before sending any asks!

-RULES-

-This is what the mod's text looks like (the other characters text will be displayed in the Info section.

-This is a showtime AU/blog, plus Voz is technically a fankid. If you don't like the ship, that's fine. You aren't obligated to stay.

-Please, no NSFW. This game is for all ages.

-Annon magic and Roleplay threads are fine. Just keep it tame.

-I am not obligated to answer an ask if I feel uncomfortable. Anyone showing disrespect will be blocked.

-I reccomend that you read the fic before sending any asks. If there's something specific you want cleared up, then yea I can answer that.

Here's the Fic master post!

-AU INFO-

The Amazing Digital Circus is one of the first virtual reality computer games! Despite going through a... rough point in development, It finally was able to hit the shelves! But right before this, a virus had found its way in and corrupted Bubble, leaving Caine without an assistant... but not for long!!

Now, both Caine and Pomni run the Circus! The rest of the cast Join players during adventures. Other than that, things are relatively the same...

♧POMNI♧

After helping Caine destroy a virus that got its way into bubble, she stepped up as his assistant! Little to Caine's knowledge, however, she plans to use this for an opportunity to find an exit...

[VOZ]

A shared project Caine and Pomni are both actively working on. A small simple AI meant to bond with the players. But he seems to rather prefer his "family." They don't quite mind, though.

☆CAINE☆

The Head Ringmaster of The Amazing Digital Circus!! The AI who started it all!! He was thrilled to find out the game would finally release!! Most of the others... not so much...

Exept for one...

°○BUBBLE○°

Bubble is...

Deceased(?)

Uh yeah thassit happy asking!!

Main acc: @dayseedrawz2

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc caine #tadc pomni #caine x pomni #tadc showtime #tadc oc #[ring misstress au]#dayseeyaps

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ladyiristheenchantress · 1 month ago

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General QnA - Me, the elements, and more

Hello friends! I recognize this post is a bit different from my normal content flow, however some people have asked some great questions about me, my practice, and some more pressing ones I feel are worth answering! These have been compiled from over my years on discord, tumblr, etc, so I hope you guys are ok with a different type of content!

This is structured so there is a little about me to start, and the rest is burning elemental questions I’ve collected, and I can’t wait for you guys to check it out! I’m hoping it dispels a couple myths, furthers peoples knowledge, etc!

This is a REALLY dense post, but I am not willing to post this in multiple sections because I want this to be all in one place for you guys, I want you to be able to read the bolds for your questions, and have the answer right there! Sorry if that’s a bit annoying, but I think it’s worth it.

Questions for Iris specifically

How did you become an elemental practitioner? I became an elemental practitioner about 8 years ago, became a devotee to water 6 years ago, and became a priestess 7 years ago! I ran my own elemental coven from 2019 to 2021-'22 where we had many members from all walks of life joined by an appreciation of the elements! We focused mainly on community service, hosting clean ups, and sponsoring building projects before we were sadly shut down due to a legal dispute. However, even without the formal coven, we all moved forward into our practices and became stronger as individuals! What has it been like being a devotee? It is hard work, but its good work! I wouldn't have it any other way. I am in a life long, contractual obligation to upkeep the domain of the west, and educate others on the elemental systems as part of my religious duty to water herself! Why don't you teach anymore? For those who don't know me, I used to teach on discord and would be someone that had a boatload of resources and time to talk at any given moment. I have stopped extending myself as a 'teacher' for a couple of years now mainly due to time constraints, and wanting to focus more on school, work, and my private religious life, so because of that I have stopped teaching over all and instead make bite sized posts I can be passionate about! Will you ever put out a grimoire (either for free or for purchase) The short answer is; No. But the long answer is no*. I have no intention of putting out a grimoire of either my elemental work or my full time information for a couple of reasons. When it comes to my elemental work, I will only ever put out what I am freely able to put out, a lot of my practice is really private and filled with coven SVG, and for their privacy and respect of our practices, we have declined sharing our grimoire to the public. However, this doesn't mean I am not going to post more UPG based content like our coven legends, or possible spells in the future, it just means that a book is a no go. I also prefer living documents anyway so I can go back and edit things as I collect new resources or correct old information.

What are your plans to post about in the future? Im hoping to do more elemental content, and then over the summer possibly crafting up more tarot spreads, infographics, and other parts of my archive that interest my readers and viewers! I really would love to start sharing some of my own SVG, or more educational content looking at practices from around the world!

Why dont you post about deity work? The simple answer is: I am not a deity worker, and it isnt really my forte or something I enjoy posting about. In the past I used to practice revivalist deity work, however I have left that space because I found it wasn't for me and my religious beliefs, and found more solace in elemental work! Also due to the oversaturated market filled with content, I really don't see an active need for my own 2 cents to be thrown into the hat here on tumblr when there are people who have specialized in it for years and years.

What is your elemental hot take? For this one I thought it would be fun to interview real members of my coven, while they asked to remain anonymous, here is some interesting UPG from all 4 of my collogues. (conversations have been transcribed to the best of my abilities from a phone call) Priestess of Water (me) - My elemental hot take is probably that the elements don’t “love” us, they don’t have the innate “love” that we do for our kin or our friends. Keep in mind, they are eternal beings that have watched over this space for billions of years, they don’t see us as any different than the smallest forms of life. But what they do see is when destruction and chaos ensue that threatens the lives of all living beings. Love is subjective, emotions are subjective, sure sometimes you get loving aspects to an element but in essence; they don’t “love” us, its a fallacy to say they do.

Priest of Air - Within my elemental experiences, I believe my hottest take would be that elemental work and deity work are not the same and should not be approached as such. It would be foolish to try and apply the same prayer formats to every single entity, the elements are not gods, they are not spirits, they are a class on their own and need to be treated as such. When people approach the elements, it isn’t like approaching a god, you can use all 5 senses to perceive an elemental figure. Use that fact to your advantage.

Priestex of Fire - Literally the thing I have to say time and time again is please stop being unsafe just because you’re an elemental practitioner. Like honestly it is incredibly disrespectful when I see people damage property or their homes and sometimes other people because they choose not to use fire safety. It’s inappropriate, sets a bad example, and disrespectful. Our ancestors did not honor the flame and all its power by being careless, why would you do the same?? Have respect for your belongings, you don’t know how the spirits of those objects or even your home feel about it. Also I don’t ever want to see anyone hurt over something completely preventable.

Priestess of Earth - My hot take is if you are trying to serve earth and nature, your actions need to speak louder than your words. Now I am not saying you need to do things a certain way, that can alienate people, however it is so important that you are doing what you can to remain educated on the problems of earth. Your practice is political, whether you like it or not. We need to do more for both our neighbors and the earth we walk on and I’m tired of pretending like it’s ok to engage with performative earth spirituality.

Credit: AmandaZ

Questions regarding the elements

Where exactly *are* all the elemental practitioners? How many of us are there? I get asked this question a lot, because if you try looking up 'air magic' online you get met with almost exclusively wiccan sources talking about elemental witchcraft, but if you have checked my page you may have noticed thoses who work with the elements like divine, who use them in full life style and philosophical processions. The truth is elemental workers are quite a minority in online spaces. For most cultures, the elements are extensions of gods, mythology, or a natural concept so we don't see a lot of people who choose to work with the divine energies themselves as their own entity's (the "middle man"), usually they are interacting with them as a religious extension, however as a secular practitioner, slowly presence is growing online as people talk to each other! More people are gaining interest in the concept, especially those who may not feel connected to deity work. Finding an online space solely filled with elemental practitioners divorced from wicca is extremely difficult right now because most of us have no idea each other exist, feel free to use my comments to meet people btw lol. But in essence, we have yet to establish ourselves in most mainstream social platforms, which is why it can be tough to find us, but if you enter a space like a discord server just reach out and ask! you may find people to bounce ideas off of, or create a new friend! Further more, feel free to boost voices of practitioners online who are speaking about the elements in a more secular way, it can really help us find more amazing content creators sharing what they can! How can I research the elements so i'm not getting only wiccan sources? The problem with elemental research is that a majority of the sources online come from a wiccan background, this is because the system is a really common form of wiccan magic as well. Finding secular or variating sources can be difficult but not impossible. First, its great to check out some of the sources on my page because it offers various backgrounds, but as you are trying to format your searches be specific. Use terms like historical, anthropological, ancient, use terms that help your search engine understand your not exactly looking for the "spiritual" side of things, but rather the multi-cultural perspective. Geolocate your searches by asking "what do [ancient culture] believe about the elements." Another way to avoid wiccan bias is by learning their system so you can weed out those sources, when you already establish what they believe in it makes combing through resources a bit easier. Finally there is no shame in some good old introspection. Creating personal associations based off a system that revolves around you and your perspective is a wonderful way to get involved and get connected with the world around you, exactly what the elements encourage!

What is the difference between elemental MAGIC and elemental WORK Elemental magic is the concept of using an elemental system to help influence your workings, it is observing the elements as an extension of the natural world, and using them in magical concepts. Things like pairing elements via herbs and crystals in a spell, observing astrology and seeing elemental aspects, and using the elements to help boost your magic like a tool. Many elemental magicians treat the elements as a symbol and a spirit, this means they can treat the elements similar to the spirit of their tools, some magicians also consider the elements to be extensions of themselves being part of the world. Elemental work is the concept of seeing the elements as divine in some way, and exploring their roots on earth, and understanding how they operate. In essence, an elemental worker communes, researches, and understand the elements on a global and community scale, and often interacts with them similar to divine energies and high spirits rather than extensions of tools or themselves. Often times these practices go hand in hand, you can build off both, its just one is more revolved around divinity than the other, and both methods are a valid and valuable way to approach the elemental systems.

How do I figure out “my” element This question is great, because a lot of people ask me how to find the element that best suits them. Some people use astrology and are drawn to elements that represent something in their chart, whether it’s a really strong connecting element or one they need to work on. However not all people use astrology, not all people have access to their charts, so what are some other aspects? My best piece of advice would be to evaluate nature and experience the elements. The elements aren’t going to “reach out” to you, they rule over trillions of individual organisms, they work with millions of species, it is unfair to expect them to change their nature to draw you in. Not to mention the elements are not omnipotent or omnipresent, if you are in a place devoid of an element the area reflects that, its no different spiritually. When you get out there and experience the elements your own spirit will begin to guide you to the right direction, you will sense a belonging and slowly you will start to realize one or multiple are speaking to you. There is this idea called “Radar theory” when you have a very large spirit or entity, that is NOT omnipotent, chances are they are not aware of you until you make yourself known. We interact with the elements on a spiritual level constantly, so to find the one that connects to you look at their domains, look at what they represent and the common lessons you observe in nature. Get involved, and you will find your way. The last thing I want to bring up is that you don’t HAVE to be going out to find them, they exist in our homes, in our spirits, and in our ancestry, if you can’t get out in nature there are means to connect to the nature within you.

How does the relationship between elemental divines (secular) relate to elemental spirits? What happens if I upset one or the other? We discussed how the elements have separate aspects similar to epithets in gods, they go by nicknames, but sometimes we see separate entities that spawn directly from a source. For example river spirits, sylphs, elemental cryptids, and more. A common question I get asked is what exactly are elemental spirits and how the relationship between them work with the larger element. The first thing I can say is that elemental spirits are entities that spawned from an elemental source, whether they exist only in a spiritual plane born from energy, or if they exist physically in the form of a cryptid, in essence they were birthed from a specific element. This makes it similar to the element but have distinct personality’s, just like us! They are individuals who happen to be born from them directly and have their own evolution and morphology. I get asked a lot “well what if I’m interacting with one, and not the other? What happens if I upset one?” And what I can say is it’s just like a relationship. Certain entities are closer to their source than others so they may not tolerate disrespect like elemental guards for example, so if you disrespect one you disrespect the other by proxy. In other cases certain spirits exist all on their own and don’t care too much for their source so really disrespecting one won’t disrespect the other. It also depends on how involved that entity is with their source! For example, a river spirit is very close to water and wouldn’t take to kindly if you pollute trying to give an offering, but an ember spirit probably won’t be that upset if you stamp out hot ash that escaped from a fire pit because it’s a risk to your home. The best way to see is to simply ask, they are individuals with their own beliefs, ask them how they feel about certain things! Create a connection!

How do I place elements on the altar? What about setting up their own altars? What about specific spirits? The truth is there is no one “correct” way to place elements on the altar, if anything I encourage you to be fluid and use your intuition. The whole idea that elements “hate” each other or “can’t stand each other” is complicated, sure water extinguishes flame if you want to honor this then feel free to put them across from each other, but water can also help the flame like in steam reactions, or underwater volcanos. The truth is the elements are fluid, feel free to change positions based off seasons, intuition, and more. The piece of advice I can give has to do with the second question about individual altars. The elements like certain things, you can set up an altar that reflects them yes, but how you position them can have something to do with their domains! Picking rooms in the house that reflect their energy like a sun room for fire, picking a direction to orient the altar based off your cardinal system or astrology can be a way to connect, you have means to get creative. Specific spirits are a bit different; they might have specific requirements or needs they want you to meet like regular spirit work, that gets individual and personal.

Where do the cardinal directions come from? What are cardinal witches? Cardinal witchcraft is a label and practice where a witch has to do with a specific domain. In many cultures the directions correspond with aspects, usually determined by where they are in the world. An example: in the western cardinal system the west represents water, the past, the psyche, and divination. So that direction represents an element, a time, a part of the spiritual practice, and a practice! It’s a way to classify domains that we work in and specialize in.

Something that needs to be mentioned is that the cardinal directions are NOT only western! Because the directions come from polarity and the rotation of then earth the directions don’t change, but culture to culture what they represent will be different because it’s greatly dependent on where that culture developed! In the western system that originated in Europe, the reason why west is water is because the Atlantic ocean is in the west! For other cultures sometimes they use the setting sun like on the Lakota medicine wheel, some use animal migration patterns to determine where an element is, some use astrology and where they are in the sky, the list is endless.

When we are discussing where the most common placements come from we need to look at the western system because that’s what most elemental sources are using for spiritual information. In this system the concept of cardinal directions actually stems from multiple different evolutions! In the very beginning, the pre-curser information we have actually has nothing to do with the cardinal directions, or even the elements at all, but alchemy, emerging sciences, and how scientists + occultists of the time viewed the world. So, an example, we can see some basic calculations that were done for astrology in the west, which lead to more eyes being led to aristotles work where he was the main person who identified directions to traits. Aristotle preposed each direction on a compass is associated with a quality, so the 4 qualities were hot, cold, wet, and dry, each direction had its own association to each. As people began to build on this idea, germanic peoples began adding in their own qualities (arguably long before the system which was stolen later down the line), and because they live in the northern hemisphere, it started to sterotype the directions to eventually elements BUT it was not solidified as 'one movement' until crowley and other occult movements like ceremonial Wicca. The last defining movement for the cardinal directions stems from both wicca and cermonial magic, where they took each cardinal direction and associated it to an element through something called a 'watch tower' which is a type of elemental spirit that certain wiccans invoke while casting a circle. Because of the popularity, this is how we ended up with the western cardinal system, and then as new-age spiritual movements became more popular they eventually lost the watch tower meaning, and began taking on associations relating more towards astrology, and bioregionalism!

How does becoming a devotee or priestex actually work? This is a beautifully complex question, mainly because this religion does not have its own mythology, heavy rules, or much structure at all. It isn’t the same like in aspects of deity work where you have guide rails to use. In essence; becoming a devotee is generally defined as a life long devotion to an entity, and a priestex is generally defined as someone who preforms religious duties and acts as a leader for the religion. (I am using textbook definitions, I’m not going to argue semantics, sorry. We need a clear generalized definition to work on here). When it comes to being a devotee, one must understand it is a life long commitment, your duties must be fully straightened out, and then usually you will be given a devotional task to be fully inducted to “prove” your willingness. What’s extremely important is you are very clear; consider sick days, consider the days you are busy, because this may not be a practice you can leave when you want it to be over. This decision can take years to make, so make sure you are clear! “Divorce” isn’t always an option, and that’s because you are making a very extreme declaration of commitment some spirits are not ok with people walking back on that, be considerate of this. Be aware of the promises you are willing to make.

Additionally, I get asked constantly how I became a priestex. I also get asked about how retirement works from the role. A priests role tends to also be life long, but you do have an ability to relinquish your duties after serving. The path of becoming a priest means you have devoted serious time, effort, and energy into the understanding, conservation, and activism behind the elements. Usually the process has to do with a declaration of service, and a sacrifice or display of service, and from there continuation of service. You may be tasked with a goal, but usually you are encouraged to formulate your own acts of service. It is important that the work is being done to upkeep the domain and that can mean putting together community service work, funds and collecting donations, and getting active in your community. The whole goal means you have devoted your energy to protecting the space you live in and the domain you are called to protect. When it comes to relinquishing your duties, you will be called to a certain time frame, dont get me wrong some will continue until death, but sometimes people need to fully retire. What is important is that a clear discussion of expectations is had so you know how long your journey will actually be. Retirement means you pass the torch to someone else who can upkeep the practice or the elements, if that cant happen then something more Permanente needs to be established like a conservation effort, or something people can use.

How does gendered language work? I get asked a lot “why do you call water she” or “do the elements prefer certain pronouns” and the truth is that it’s subjective! Every culture has their own views, certain people believe the elements are completely agender or gender fluid, all of that is valid. In some cases you may be asked to use certain pronouns like I was! It doesn’t mean I think water is “a girl” or “feminine” specifically, it just means I was asked to refer to her in that way. Other people are not, and that’s completely ok. What actually matters is that you are avoiding stereotypes or harmful rhetoric. For example online you might see people say “FIRE IS A HE BECAUSE HE IS MASCULINE.” But that’s not true for all people and systems. It can contribute to stereotypes like imposing a belief that “oh fire can’t be a she because it’s too destructive” when you break that down, doesn’t that sound weird? That we equate destruction to a group? Truly, use whatever you are called too, but remember that the elements are concepts, not confined by human views of gender expression.

How do I know if I upset an element? This question is a follow up to elemental interactions, usually people ask me this because they feel they already made a mistake and are worried about upsetting them. The truth is, it can be difficult to upset an element, they have an understanding of the world around us, and don't hold us to such heavy expectations. Do you need to be perfectly "carbon-zero"? No, because the earth understands it's companies contributing to a majority of the harm and not regular people. However what I can say is that one must be intentional and aware of what they are doing when interacting with the elements. Disrespect can happen like using disrespectful terms when addressing them, overly trying to humanize them, making false promises, or wrongfully speaking over them. Now that can potentially upset them, and usually you will know if you really upset them. Symptoms usually include not being able to connect to that element, being tested in some way, divination no longer being precise, usually you will be guided to learn from your mistake through research, introspection, and watching how the elements interact with the world. Now; chances are that crazy storm was not because of you, your house setting on fire is not your fault, you wont be punished to the point of ruin as a beginner or casual elementalist. That stuff only comes into play at a later time, and by then you will have your own views on what is actually going on. The elements still have a job to do, react to the ever changing world, that tornado probably was laid out in the atmosphere months ago.

You said the elements “work with species” what does that mean? This may come as a shock, but yes animals, plants, and things that we don't deem 'conscious' work with the elements. We can see animals that display a complex show of religion like elephants, we can see a level of respect coming from all living beings (we need all the elements to survive). This is why the elementals aren't focusing only on us humans, its why they don't "reach out" in a traditional sense, they are working on a scale of trillions and are not omnipresent. They can't see and hear every single living thing at all times, its why there are terraformed structures like mountains, rivers, that can house specific species with specific needs! Its why the aspects are so interesting and important because its regional. It reflects the needs of all organisms. So yes, the elements work with even the smallest bacteria, to the largest elephants, influencing their lives and actions, as we honor it back by going through the cycle of life.

Thank you all very much if you read this far! This is my passion and something that was really suggested, so I’m glad I was able to make something for you guys! Fairest winds!

Tip Jar

Resources:

All of my resources have resources!

https://www.tumblr.com/ladyiristheenchantress/777913355141808128/energies-and-elements-master-post

https://www.tumblr.com/ladyiristheenchantress/775842203648065536/the-other-element

https://www.tumblr.com/ladyiristheenchantress/742131059117965312/elemental-work-crash-course?source=share

https://www.learnreligions.com/four-classical-elements-2562825

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watchtower_(magic)

https://www.cunning-folk.com/craft-posts/a-brief-introduction-to-elemental-magic

https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/elemental-magick

https://floraware.ca/getting-started-with-elemental-magic/

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

https://cymbiotika.com/blogs/news/astrology-101-pt-one-the-elements?srsltid=AfmBOor5Ko2mG3RwmmmmoJPf8FE2QExu7W8vu1RS4nkQVE7iF0MsB1dD

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

https://threehundredandsixtysix.wordpress.com/2011/11/05/elementals-and-elemental-kings/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Elementals

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kaiserposting · 5 months ago

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⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

hi. a few days ago i read perpetual chase for greener grass and i asked if it was okay to write you an essay. well. i did and it is 25 pages long (double-spaced, w/ a title page, footnotes, and a bibliography, i'm not insane. honest.) on sakura characterization and misogyny and a little about why i like your fanfic so much. you can i think read this here, if the link works: https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/bicwciufqc49203xmvzoa/you-didnt-ask-for-this-and-im-sorry.pdf?rlkey=fcob3k3lvokzkfg2gi0z3hh2f&st=83vb0rm6&dl=0

it's not particularly funny or interesting and while i try to stick to my thesis i'm sure there is a lot in here that doesn't need to be. as a warning it has been forever since i read naruto and i have nver read boruto so i be wrong on some places, although i did try my best to research and support my claims. to save you some time if you choose to read it, i'll break down the sections:

page 1: title

pages 2-4 (very top): intro with context about naruto, with thesis starting at the very bottom of 3

pages 4-5 (midway): on canon sakura

pages 5-7 (very top): explanation of misogyny and premise of essay

pages 7-16: analysis of sakura's characterization through 8 fanfic examples

pages 16 (bottom) - 18 (midway): analysis of perpetual chase for greener grass specifically

pages 18-21 (top): reflection on examples and their significance

pages 21-23: another analysis of perpetual chase for greener grass and what makes it so good

pages 24-25: bibliography

you really don't need to read this all and you don't need to feel obligated to write a response. ik i sound insecure but its more like i don't want anytone to get their hopes up on what is technically a silly-for-funsies essay dkfjsd THAT SAID... i do invite feedback especially constructive criticism or discussion on my points... i don't want to use your blog as a platform for it more than this so if i may plug my side blog @moonlitjellies people can talk to me there with questions concerns thoughts etc

thanks

OK YAYYY SAKURA DISCUSSION TIMR

First off all...... Here is the link in the ask for anyone who wants to read What were talking about: x / link to the fanfiction i wrote taht is mentioned in the essay: x

Anywaysssss

This is funny

I do think nowadaysss... or like for a few years since I became an oldr teenager and then an adult... the fun of being into Naruto comes Mostly from the fandom side of it. Like all the reinterpreting the characters, meta, AUs, etc, I think are prolific more here than most other fandoms (perhaps because in other fandoms it's just... less necessary lol). There was a lot of wasted potential in kishimoto's writing Unforchies... Particularly I am a fan of reading and writing about Sakura ^_^^_^^_^ but we knew that lol so why am I saying it?

Fun fact: Sakura is actually a lot more popular and beloved among the Japanese audience. I don't really know what that says about the Western audience & their expectations for the heroines 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

YAYYYY WE GET A MENTION OF MY LEAST FAVORITE TROPE WHICH IS Homophobic Sakura randomly getting in the way of their yaoi and being evil. Wait the fact that the first fanfic you mentioned was written/last updated in 2024 is wild wow.. I was reading it under the assumption it's some 2009-2014 FF.net relic RKWEKREJR (because I think that trope was more predominant then. I know you yourself are not dogging on this fic or condemning it so maybe I'm being mean but I do think the production of such a thing in Todays Age a bit ridiculous personally). Although it does provide a good example of uplifting being a gay man through belittling women, making them seem frivolous and incomplex in comparison, an efficient example of a still existing social trend

IKTR #girlboss #femalemanipulator 😍😍😍😍😍

This is an irrelevant side note... as a Sakura scholar... I do think of her as a tomboy. Particularly in part 1 I find her presentation as one of a tomboy badly performing femininity because she thinks that's what will attract the object of her affection because He's a Boy.

I don't believe it fits Sakura or most of the Naruto women who are ninjas and career women and clan leaders to be stay at home mothers or even mothers at all in Boruto, but it was for sequel bait so idk how much we can condemn Kishimoto for that writing decision lolllll. Like obviously there is patriarchal bias here (having a family maybe to him and many shounen writers comes across as wrapping up the story as like a sense of "achievement" and "fulfillment" has been made without having to write an extensive epilogue esp. for the girls due to existing preconceptions that women only get life affirmation from becoming mothers, though I do not agree that is the case, and a lot of shounen post-canon families, not just those in Naruto, ironically come across as very unhappy due to such fumbling), but I think it was mostly an excuse to have a big chunk of the cast off-duty and have children so that Boruto could exist and the kids could do stuff. There is both misogyny and misogyny weaponized to create opportunity here Ig as a marketing ploy imo (also possibly to come across as more likeable to the audience bc they are mothers now, taking advantage of the existing mass subconscious bias).

Waittt this is word salad whell whatever im not editing it idc...take it or leave it

Im sooo sorry but I DIDN'T EXPECT WEREWOLF ITACHI TO SHOW UP HERE 😭😭😭. Ok anyways let me not speak because that's not the point of what you're talking about anyway it just caught me off guard...

OK ANYWAY WE COME TO THE PART I GET MOST EXCITED TALKING ABOUT... MYSELF !! 😍

Since you start off by saying we the audience are meant to like Sakura I guess I'll talk a little bit about how I perceive her here (which I don't believe I have done before).

It's hard to say if she is completely likeable here or not. I think among many of the characters who make shitty decisions and say shitty things or show unfavorable personality traits, Sakura is more "agreeable" and easy to like than them. But I also think a lot of her actions are a bit ambiguous. I know you talk within the essay strictly about Sakura and not so much so the specifics of the Ino-Sakura friendship/almost-romance or the Reader-Ino-Sakura situation but I will talk about it here since that's the reason why I find Sakura slightly "questionable" (and the reason why that decision was made).

Sakura is presented in my fic as having more of a "traditional" upbringing, I don't believe super tradcath freak parents but more so what the average woman could possibly go thru - raised with certain patriarchal expectations. I think here she doesn't get in a lot of trouble and is generally perceived as others to be good, quiet, restrained as you called it, i.e. fitting the patriarchal ideal.

But because of this, I think some resentment (subconscious or to some extent she is aware of it) starts to build. She doesn't like these expectations and she doesn't like herself for seemingly fitting into them and she doesn't like others for viewing her that way. So she starts acting out slightly in a way others wouldn't expect of her like for example hanging out "with the boys" even after Ino stops going, smoking weed, whatever who cares... But the questionable part is particularly in the form of Y/n (who is at this point Ino's partner) and Ino herself.

Y/n very obviously I think has a wandering eye. They are not quite infidelious but they come across often like they want to cheat. I think Sakura is aware of this, particularly that she is in some way the apple of their eye at certain moments (unknown whether she is the only one), but indulges in it because it gives her a feeling of "being bad" and fulfills her desire to be "rebellious".

Ino is her best friend who Sakura is defensive and protective of and thinks no one deserves her (I think there are some homoerotic feelings at play pretty obviously here but she was raised in such a heteronormative way she doesn't register things like that, which is made obvious when Y/n says they think Naruto and Sasuke are gay and Sakura is like huh really? - not judgemental of it but just like genuinely surprised), yet at the same time she is getting some amount of gratification from Y/n's attention on her and there are many times where she doesn't seem interested in telling Ino that or telling Y/n off (almost as if she doesn't want to lose their attention not because she likes them as a person but because of what their attention fulfills for her in this phase of her life - the feeling of "acting out" and "being bad"). Anyway I consider this decision of hers to do this some shade of gray but I do not believe it's a crime and I think the fic itself focusing on her POV still leaves her as portrayed positively i.e. just as a person who sometimes makes sympathetic decisions and other times doesn't and who has many problems in her life that lead to those things.

Also I tried to be gender ambiguous about the Reader here as usual in most of my works but since the story largely deals with gender and sexuality I would describe their character as functioning as "socially male" whether that be just a regular cis boy, some closeted genderfuck spectrum case, or a butch lesbian who was rejected from the typical girl groups in childhood and therefore tries to fit in more with "the boys", or any other possibility - which is why their attention serves Sakura who otherwise is oblivious of LGBT things to an extent. Like for example Naruto and Sasuke both come across as pretty typical boys so she does not consider they might be gay (again coming from the way she was raised where someone is only obviously gay if they are GNC - "if you got a pixie cut the neighbors will think ur a lesbiannnn and that's badddd it's badddd if they think ur a lesbiannnn").

I also tried to do a bit of a role reversal flip here where instead of Sakura solely exists as a one note character who is defined by her love for Sasuke (common in both Naruto and fanfiction), it is Sasuke who comes across as quite one dimensional and is defined by his relationship with Sakura instead. There are several hints that his character and story here are more complicated but it is simply not of interest. It's a bit of a fringe choice and makes his character portrayal look admittedly weak and OOC/inaccurate but I quite enjoyed presenting it that way you know as a little laugh to myself.

Yayayayaya lovely work thank you so much! I was glad to read it and enjoyed it a lot, though the topic of misogyny/gender roles does often make me quite angry (particularly why this one shot was written with a lot of vitriol in like two writing sessions, I think I was mad at the time about all this, like straight up just woke up angry about it) I think it's important to engage with it and I thik u did a good job ^_^. I don't have any criticisms of it, I think it was solid and engaging 👍 but maybe I am biased... lol. Thank you for writing and sending it!! Hopefulyl my reply wasn't stupid/irrelevant lawl

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mohs-aphmau-hcs · 2 years ago

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Stereotypical Emergency Gofundme Title

Hey guys, I hate doing this, especially after being inactive for so long but this is my most popular blog and I need help.

I'm 19, living paycheck to paycheck with some pets and my SDIT, I'm severely mentally disabled and trans, living in the US, and I'm currently in a housing emergency that could leave me homeless in the likely worst-case scenario

Im an incapacitated mentally disabled trans adult living in the USA with my cats and dogs, one of which is an SDIT, I am unable to do basic things alone like grocery shopping or doctor's appointments, I can barely keep myself and my animals going.

the people taking care of me had to drop everything and leave because a dangerous family member wouldn't stop harassing them. They're currently trying to help me find a cheap place, and then get me a DLS worker/Daily carer, but its a hard long process

In the process of getting out safely, they kind of left me here in a hazardous situation because their emergency place didn't have enough room for me. So, now I'm being harassed by this family member, and I have nowhere to live and no one to help me.

This family member is threatening to come in and gut the house before I'm gone so our dad can move in. An offer we did make to my dad, but this person is under the impression it was going to happen overnight. And is threatening to do so in 2 weeks whether I like it or not, on top of threatening to get rid of my animals. This person is for one dangerous and violent, and going against him could hurt me. At this point, him and this situation are a threat to my life and he has been directly threatening my life more than once. A fight between me and this person would also put more strain than there already is on my dad and mine relationship. I want to move out by next month to avoid this situation.

I need to find a house or lenient apartment for rent, that accepts animals and isn't discriminatory against low income, disability, government support, and LGBT+, but I can barely afford rent here let alone a down payment on top of rent and a moving truck by next month. On top of finding a place that accepts Section 8 or low income, and then even having to wait to see if I can get a Section 8 voucher, and feeling unsafe in my current home, it's been hard. This is my first time doing any of this.

If I could make maybe 1k USD or more that'd help so much with getting at least a basic place to stay in when I find one

No one is obligated to help, but every little bit helps at the moment, I wouldn't be making this post if I wasn't desperate. I don't need food, or necessities except maybe cat food, I have enough for right now I just need a roof over my head

If you're able to, anything helps, thank you for reading my little sob story, here's a link to my gofundme page to help me get a house. Thank you all again just for reading even if you don't donate anything, <3

Fundraiser by Sam Tamayo : Help me raise money for a home for me and dog (gofundme.com)

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natlovesls2 · 2 years ago

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What Was I Made For?

Bob Floyd x Reader

Note: This is based on my recent break up so it's a little personal. This is for all the girls who can’t accept the fact that they can (and deserve) to be loved. We all deserve to be loved and we deserve to be told that we're worth it. I'm so proud of everyone reading this because you're wonderful. Also, no use of y/n. I also didn't proofread this, so it might not make sense. I hope it's alright, but I might edit it another day. This is my first post, so this is scary.

Summary: You don't think you deserve Bob, which leads to your breakup. A look at your relationship and its downfall, as well as the struggle to be happy: and accept love.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: angst, bad writing, and grammar mistakes

I used to float, now I just fall down I used to know but I'm not sure now What I was made for What was I made for?

The memories of warm hugs and stolen kisses were just that, memories. Everything had felt so concrete and long-lasting. It's funny how a few bad days could take your whole away. The late-night talks of a shared house, kids, and dogs slowly lose their meaning. You'd lost all of yourself; nothing could stop your downward spiral. You had once wanted to have kids with him. There's no reason to deny that that thought had once made you feel warm and giddy. That was weeks ago, and now you weren't even sure if you wanted to live. The longer you loved him, the more you felt like a burden.

"We should get married," you laughed at Bob's sudden statement. "Not right now, but sometime in the future. We'll get a house together and have kids." He turned on his side to look at you, grabbing your hands and kissing them.

"We would have the most beautiful babies, all because of you, my love," he whispered, pulling you into a kiss.

You had been so sure that your life would be one of domestic bliss. Two kids (a boy and a girl), a dog, and maybe a cat (if you could convince your future husband). Now that the plans meant nothing, you felt so lost. The fear of the future slowly drags you down to the bottom of a deep ravine. The weight of your guilt keeps you there, slowly drowning you with false promises that things will be fine.

Takin' a drive, I was an ideal Looked so alive, turns out, I'm not real Just something you paid for What was I made for?

The late-night drives back home after a date were always so magical. Something straight out of a movie with Taylor Swift's: Our Song blasting through the speakers of his truck. You both sang (more like screamed) the lyrics, occasionally turning to one another. At red lights, he would steal a few kisses as you pushed him away, urging him to pay attention to the road. You would always promise more kisses once you made it to your destination.

Bob had planned a book date to celebrate your love of reading. You had made your way to the children's section to look for an old childhood book. Now you both stood in the children's book section of Barnes and Noble, occasionally pulling out a book to flip through. "We should get this for our future baby," you said, pulling out a Winnie the Pooh book set to show to Bob.

"That would be perfect," he responded, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind, and resting his head on your shoulder. You spent the next hour browsing the bookshelves and picking books for your future children.

The bi-weekly dates turned into a once-a-week meeting. You found excuses to turn those into monthly dates. Slowly distancing yourself from your sweet and caring boyfriend. It was killing him. Knowing that you would rather lie to him about important family matters than see him for at least an hour. Kissing and holding him began to feel like an obligation. Your disgust with yourself plaguing you as he held you close. Your thoughts remind you that his words meant nothing compared to yours. Who cares if he thinks you're beautiful or worth something? No one else does. Your family surely doesn't think you're worth it. They had given up on you a long time ago. Sure, they hadn't said it to your face; but you felt it. You had wasted your life pursuing their dreams, and they still weren't proud of you. You tried so hard to please everyone in your life, and now you didn't even know yourself.

'Cause I, I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday I might Someday I might

“I love you so much,” he whispered between kisses. You couldn't stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks, pulling away to look out the window of his truck. The warm air was suffocating: opening the truck door, you quickly got out. You paced along the truck before sitting on the curb next to it. You silently cried, feeling him sit next to you and reach to hold you in his arms. “I don't deserve you,” you cried into his chest, wishing you could accept being loved.

“You deserve everything in the world and so much more, my love,” he said, kissing the top of your head. The both of you sat there silently, crying on the curb of an empty park. Neither of you know what to say. You desperately wanted to save the relationship; you wanted to be selfish for once. You wanted to be able to call him any time of day and ask him to spend time with you. The urge to stay up past midnight talking on the phone without feeling guilty about dragging him down was killing you. You wanted to meet his friends and family. You wanted to make him proud; you desperately needed to make him proud. You knew he needed you to be there, but the fear of rejection kept you away. You had one foot out the door.

There was a part of you that knew you could do it. Put on your big girl pants and face your fears, do it just for him. You just needed more time. That's what you kept telling yourself, but he had already been the most patient and kind boyfriend in the whole world. He deserved better than this; he deserved better than you. “You deserve better,” you said, breaking the silence.

“There is no one better than you. Why can't you see that? I don't want someone else. I want you. I want to grow old with you. I want to be there for you. I want you to be there for me. I want YOU to be the person that motivates me to come home every day.”

When did it end? All the enjoyment I'm sad again, don't tell my boyfriendIt's not what he's made forWhat was I made for?

You sat at the edge of your bed, scrolling through a year's worth of pictures, tears falling down your cheeks. You'd been avoiding your boyfriend for the past month. The relationship had been slowly declining, the two of you choosing to ignore every problem. The most trivial disagreements turn into big nasty fights. Mostly one-sided fights that you started. You loved him so much, and it scared you. You wanted him to see that you weren't good enough for him, so you disagreed with everything he said.

"I don't want kids," you blurted out one night as you both lay on the tailgate of his truck. He stood up quickly, looking at you, deciding how to respond to your sudden confession. "That's fine," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It wasn't fine; you knew he wanted to start a family. He only said this to comfort you. You knew Bob would always agree with you, even if it meant hurting himself.

"I don't want to marry you," you whispered, sitting up. Bob grabbed your hand, kissing them softly, letting a tear roll down his cheek. "We don't have to get married. I'm happy being your boyfriend, my love."

You had typed and deleted your message about 15 times. You were struggling and needed someone to talk to. You knew Bob would be happy to help. 'He's your boyfriend, not your therapist,' you thought before throwing your phone on your bed. How ironic would it be to tell your boyfriend you felt shitty about yourself because you felt like a burden. You couldn't text him. No, that wouldn't make you a chill, not burdensome girlfriend. You started at the Valentine's Day gift he had gotten you, hugging the bear before throwing it across the room. Everything he had ever gotten you served as a reminder that you didn't deserve him.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said eagerly, holding out the roses and gift bag. You awkwardly accepted the gifts, setting the roses on the table. They sat there for a week, forgotten and neglected. Bob had gone out of his way to get you pretty pink flowers and left them out to die.

'Cause I, 'cause I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday I might Someday I might

Bob sat in front of you, crying into his hands. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Everyone told him that the relationship wasn't worth it if Bob was the only one that cared. He loved you so much, but you had finally broken him. After countless worthless arguments, you had finally broken, Bob. "I can't do this anymore, love," he finally said, his voice shaking as he looked up at you. You nodded, understanding and agreeing that this was too much for him.

"It hurts so much knowing that I'll never be enough, that this wasn't enough. I just wanted to love you, but you never let me do that. Throwing away our future hurts, but I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry," Bob stood up quickly, removing his glasses to wipe away the tears. "I hope

you learn to love yourself and to let others love you. I hope you have the best life ever. I'll still be rooting for you," he walked toward the door, turning to look at you one last time before walking out.

You sank to the floor, crying for what felt like hours. You finally got what you wanted. Bob was finally going to get the perfect life he deserved. A perfect life without you to mess it up. Why weren't you happy for him?

'I'm sorry for everything. I loved you so much' you hit send before turning off your phone. You sighed, wiping your tear-stained face before standing. You had no right to mourn the relationship you destroyed. The only thing left to do was find your purpose.

Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be Something I wait for Something I'm made for Something I'm made for

It had been four months since your relationship with Bob ended. You slowly got over your self-worth issues. The situation taught you some valuable lessons. It had been too late to save your relationship, but it wasn't too late to save your future. You focused all your time and energy on bettering yourself and your career goals. You often saw Bob out with his friends; you caught yourself smiling a few times. The smile on his face brings you massive joy. Though you would be lying if you said seeing him didn't bring you sadness as well. All the what-ifs running rampant in your brain. It was too late for that. You had to move on and accept that you had ruined something good. You were fine. You have goals and a purpose in life. You finally know what you're made for; that is the most important thing. You're thankful for Bob and the lessons he brought you.

#bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n

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cloudcountry · 3 months ago

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AUBURN'S VOICELINES . . . PART ONE

part two will have all the affinity ones!!

Opening Cutscene

“I’m not going to let anyone die. I can’t. I have to save them all, none of this is fair. If I’m not going to be remembered, the least I can do for them is this.”

Summon

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you, my name is Auburn!”

Home Screen

Hello:

“Ah...you remember me? Oh, don’t mind me! Hello, how have you been? What’s new?”

You’ve Got Mail:

“Um, I think you have mail. Do you want to check it? I can’t peek at any of it, don’t worry! That’d be breaking the law of correspondence...”

Default:

“Professor Hyde said I would have been assigned to Hotarubi had I not become inspector...it seems like a lovely place.”

“Working at Jabberwock is really hard, but I think it’s rewarding! Psst...don’t tell Ritsu I’m doing it without pay, he’d lecture me again.”

“I’ve been reading the Compendium of Laws for Ritsu, and I don’t know how he does it! I’m taking it one section at a time...”

“If you need help with anything, you can come to me! Just...make sure it’s nothing unsavory, or Rubia will have your head.”

“I’ve gotten in the habit of carrying around an extra notebook and pens with me everywhere...I never know when Ritsu is going to call me with new details.”

Spring: (March-May)

(between 5 am and 11 am)

“Ritsu says there’s more business at this time of year, and oddly enough I’m not nervous. I know he can handle it.”

(between 11 am and 4 pm)

“There are so many flowers blooming...I’m glad I have a spring birthday.”

(between 4 pm and 8 pm)

“Have you gone to see the tours in Jabberwock yet? No...? You should! I really like the water section, so I pick up the slack there!”

(between 8 pm and 5 am)

“The cafeteria had a really good salad with apple slices and poppyseed dressing...I’m going to be thinking about it for weeks...”

Summer: (June-August)

(between 5 am and 11 am)

“You know, I think working outside for the majority of the summer upped my heat tolerance. Be careful out there!”

(between 11 am and 4 pm)

“Oh...It’s so hot....water, I need water...”

(between 4 pm and 8 pm)

“I’m so glad the day is over, I feel like I could collapse. The sun felt nice, though! ...What do you mean I wasn’t looking too hot? It was nothing BUT hot!”

(between 8 pm and 5 am)

“I wonder if I can drag Rubia and Ritsu away from their obligations to watch the fireworks tonight...”

Autumn: (September-November)

(between 5 am and 11 am)

“I like this weather a lot, it’s my favorite season. Finally, I get to wear my sweaters again.”

(between 11 am and 4 pm)

“Oh, this drink? It’s chai! You should totally order one sometime if you stop by the Mystery Diner, Ren makes really good drinks when he puts his mind to it.”

(between 4 pm and 8 pm)

“The nights are so long now, it gets dark so early...it doesn’t throw me off, but I still find it weird sometimes.”

(between 8 pm and 5 am)

“I wish I could go stargazing right now. I’m sure the sky is beautiful, but...hm, I don’t trust the campus to be safe enough at this hour.”

Winter: (December-February)

(between 5 am and 11 am)

“You know, most of my casual winter outfits are a mix of red and black...I don’t mean to declare allegiance to anyone, but whatever happens happens, right?”

(between 11 am and 4 pm)

“I used to love snow as a kid, but now it’s an inconvenience...I can’t do my laundry or carry around papers when it’s so wet outside.”

(between 4 pm and 8 pm)

“Stay warm, okay? Make sure you’re wearing long socks and gloves! Also a coat. Don’t forget a good coat.”

(between 8 pm and 5 am)

“Mmm...this weather can make you feel really awful, but it’s important to keep pushing no matter what. That’s what my loved ones have taught me.”

Her birthday:

“Oh, right. It’s my birthday. Thank you for the congratulations! I wasn’t really planning on celebrating it...”

Rubia’s birthday:

“Did you hear? It’s Rubia’s birthday! ...What do you mean, why am I so excited? You would be too if you knew her like I do!”

Vio's birthday:

“If you can do me one favor today, don't contact Sho. Why? He's going to be spending the whole day with Vio, obviously! It's her birthday?”

Vivi’s birthday:

“You'd better say something nice to my big sis today, it's their birthday! ...Why are you looking at me like that? They're not scary!”

Ritsu’s birthday:

“I have a whole thing planned for Ritsu’s birthday today...I know, I’m so bad at subtlety! Do you think he’ll notice how bouncy and twitchy I am?”

Friend birthday:

“Yes, I hope (Name) has a wonderful birthday today.”

Neutral/Dislike birthday:

“Oh, it’s their birthday? ...Cool.”

New Years: (January 1st)

“Happy New Year! My resolution this year is to read more of the Compendium of Laws...and hopefully memorize a few more sections.”

Valentine’s Day: (February 14th)

“Oh, chocolates? Thank you so much, you’re the sweetest! Here, I got you something in return!”

White Day: (March 13th)

“Ritsu got me some confectioneries from this really fancy shop as a thank you for the chocolates I gave him on Valentine’s. I almost don’t want to eat them. Maybe I should share them with him?”

April Fool’s Day: (April 1st)

“Oh, I don’t celebrate April Fools. No, it is not because of Ritsu or Article 233 of the Penal Code. I just don’t see the appeal.”

Halloween: (October 31st)

“My work with Ritsu does not stop on Halloween! In fact, I’d say it only gets worse. People on campus can be degenerates on this date.”

Christmas: (December 25th)

“Ah...it is Christmas, isn’t it? I hope you have a merry one.”

Idle:

(below 13 affinity)

“Um...can I help you with anything?”

(13 affinity and above)

“Hey, it’s nice to see you! I hope you’re doing well today! Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

Absent:

“You know...I hope you’ll have better attendance in the future. It’s not good for your academic standing to be gone for so many consecutive days.”

#auburn talks tokyo debunker <3 #auburn's tkdb mc <3

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genevievefangirl · 5 months ago

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2024 WRITING REVIEW

tagged by @ahyperactivehero (thanks friend!)

stress free tags!: @flowerbritts, @zmorak, @paraphwrites and anyone else who wants to do this!

number of stories posted to ao3: 2

word count posted for last year: 72,414

fandoms i wrote for: Dead Boy Detectives

pairings: Payneland with some background Palasaki

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads:

Considering I only have 2 to pick from and one of them is monstrously long, the fic with the most kudos, bookmarks, and comment threads is My Life Ended When They Called Your Name - the Hunger Games AU for DBDA that no one asked for, but I decided to make my entire personality!

work i’m most proud of (and why):

My Life Ended When They Called Your Name and not solely because it is the long one!

Firstly, it is my first fanfic ever and it got me to start writing in the first place so it holds a special place in my heart. Secondly, when I started posting it, I never expected the response it has gotten. It just broke 400 kudos last week and I am blown away! People are leaving such nice comments all the time and I love each and every person who is reading it with all my heart ❤️

work i’m least proud of (and why):

Considering I only have 2, this spot has to be taken by Don't Leave Me which feels unfair to me so I will talk about why I also love it lol

Don't Leave Me was first drafted around 2:30 in the morning when I was feeling super down about myself. I just felt so lonely and like everything was awful. So, for some reason, I decided to pull out my laptop and start writing about it in fic form and this fic was the result (after some editing lol). It honestly helped me a lot that night.

share or describe a favorite review you received: I had to pick one from my very good friend @thepopsicle cause their comments always make me laugh

Charles is obviously a guard dog - we all know it's true!

a time when writing was really, really hard: November. I think I was pushing myself to write too hard to the point that it stopped being fun for a bit and felt more like a chore. Once I loosened up about my upload schedule and gave myself more space to breathe it became easier.

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Niko. When I started trying to write her she was really challenging, but as I kept going with the story she got easier and easier.

a favorite excerpt of your writing:

It is very hard for me to remember specific lines except for when I am actively editing a chapter, but this section sticks out for me since it is where the title of My Life Ended When They Called Your Name comes from and I am particularly proud of it.

Charles looks like he has been slapped, “Duty? Is that the reason you think I’m here?” He walks closer to Edwin and puts his hands on his shoulders, “I am here because I care about you, Edwin! You’re my best mate, I don’t want to see you hurt either. I couldn’t just stay at home and watch, not when I could do something about it. You are the most important person in the world to me, there is nothing I won’t do for you. I’m not here because of some fucked up obligation or whatever reason you’ve got in your head.” Pausing, Charles takes a breath, and his voice eases as he continues, “I don’t think you understand. My life ended when they called your name. There is nothing left for me back home without you. I am here because I want to be here.”

how did you grow as a writer last year:

Considering I wasn't a writer before this year, I grew quite a bit! 😂

I honestly never thought I would write and was content to stay a reader forever, but then I joined the DBDA fandom and an idea hit me and refused to leave!

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.)

Everyone in the DBDA Haunt server. You guys are all amazing people and I wouldn't have gotten this far without you. Particular shout-outs must go to @thepopsicle for encouraging me from the beginning that my writing was worthy of going on AO3 and @flowerbritts for listening to me for HOURS on voice calls. But truly the entire server is full of wonderful people and I thank you all:

@ahyperactivehero, @dead-but-still-sarcastic, @zmorak, @makemeimmortalwithahug, @moonikabear

@dreamers-and-magicians, @steampunk-dandy, @tiny-caffeinated-panda and anyone else I forgot! (and I'm sorry if I did)

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year:

Many of my real emotions get incorporated into my writing that I won't go into specifics for. I feel like drawing on real life experience is necessary while writing and gives projects depth.

any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Sorry to be boring in this advice, but just START! The hardest part of any project is deciding to begin (and pulling yourself back to work on it repeatedly). So just start. Decide you are going to write today and DO IT.

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year?

I really want to finish My Life Ended When They Called Your Name (and its sequel which I am planning), but to be honest I'm not sure that is realistic since both of those will be crazy long, but I will certainly try! I also want to publish some other fics that I have in the works!

#gen talks #tag game

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tangentburd · 3 months ago

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(◐｡◐) -{ People I'd like to know better!

~ thanks to @aifastic for the tag! [ X ]

〜〜〜

❖ Last song: Crescent Cutlass (2019) – Nishikawa Takanori 西川貴教 — coworker: so what kind of music do you usually like to listen to? me: eh, anything with a high bpm so i can work/draw faster haha coworker: oh really! any examples? me:

❖ Last book: Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language by Gretchen McCulloch (2019) — i 200% relate to this particular section on the unspoken conventions of keysmashing

❖ Last movie: Infernal Affairs 《無間道》 (2002) — obligatory rewatch after 20+ years because triads, spies and much better acting (and better-looking actors) than i remembered. i believe in Andy Lau supremacy thank you

❖ Last show: Mononoke 《モノノ怪》 (2006) — how the hell did i procrastinate on this one for SO LONG. the mystery stories and Japanese folklore themes and narrative style are great enough (the "Umibozu" arc especially made me wonder), but the art style is phenomenal and dazzling and terrifying all at once. recommended if you're fine with bright colours, spirits/monsters and tension/horror.

❖ Last thing I googled: "pentas propagation" — confession: i plant more than i art.

❖ Last activity: Trip planning and miscellaneous photoshoppery. — currently helping out the super talented and entertaining folks over at @hauntingthenarrativepod with some episode covers for their L&Co. podcast. i also believe in ghostie supremacy

❖ Favourite colour: {CadetBlue} — aka somewhere around #5f9ea0 because i can't decide between blue and green

❖ Sweet / savoury / spicy: Savoury hands down (optional: any humane amount of spice) — at a stage in life now where even a tiny taste of sugar makes me feel awful, which i'm gonna see as a good thing. also yes that excludes mala FIGHT ME

❖ Current obsessions: Conlangs, codes, ciphers. Riso art. Mystery stories. The life cycle of Lepidoptera. How Not to Kill Every Single Cutting I Take From my Plants. — excluding TF2 because that's obviously more forever than current. also i want to say sorry to my pentas :(

❖ Looking forward to: An upcoming overseas trip — no i haven't packed a thing yet. but i'll be bringing along my tiny plastic buddy and his buddy again yay

〜〜〜

I usually don't tag anyone else for these, but given the topic I'll tag @gonturan0 (no obligations as always).

Have fun and thanks for reading! \o/

#tag game #textpost #i almost always choose movies over shows for some reason #but storytelling is still paramount to me #also tfw i've been a t.m.revolution fan for nearly half my life ahaha #a fan on perpetual turbo mode...?#ok im outta here bai

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bayleavesfromthevine · 3 months ago

Note

Regarding your Queen Bee fic: Your writing is genuinely gripping and very illustrative. The backstory sections with Kusuke honestly gutted me a bit. You write this fucked up family really well. I feel bad for all of them :[ Also EVERY TIME you wrote Kaidou he was so precious that I had to scream about it out loud. And I love Kuriko! I love how you wrote her powers [especially the part where she describes the beginning of her life. It was oddly poetic and haunting], and I love her personality! I kind of want to grab her by the head and shake her around /affectionate And I love how she communicates with Kusuo, and I love her dynamics with everyone. [Also, just a request for if you ever pick up the fic again, could you maybe do a ship between Teruhashi and Kuriko? I like their interactions :D [This is just a request and you are in no way obligated to fulfill it! Just thought it wouldn't hurt to ask ^^]] And I especially loved all the references to the medium the story was written in and the show itself, it feels very in-spirit with the series. Fun! I understand if you've moved on to other projects by now, and it's okay if you don't update this one again, but I just wanted to express my appreciation for this story. Thank you for writing it, I had a good time reading it :D

Omg thank you so much!! That fic holds such a special place in my heart - I wrote it as a stress reliever throughout college and some of my fondest memories are of writing out scenes or whole chapters instead of paying attention to my lectures 😂

Kusuke is so interesting to me because imagine being the kid in your family without any crazy powers?? Not to be dramatic, but more often than not his inferiority complex is the driving force in the plot lmao

Kaidou is my SON. I think I let so much of my bias towards him bleed into the fic because Kuriko definitely views him as a baby chick she needs to protect kdjfhkjfh And as for the ship request - I've always been torn between Teruhashi and Aiura (hence why it's still a gen fic LOL) so you def have a 50/50 shot there! I have never had anything planned for this fic (except for the very end), I've always just gone in whichever direction Kuriko led me in, so it'll be a surprise to us both haha!

I do want to finish the fic one of these days - I actually do have the next chapter almost completely written somewhere. I have to rewatch the show before working on it again so I can reacquaint myself with the world since it's been so long since I've seen it. (I also have to reread the fic to remember all the Kuriko lore I made up 😂)

I'm so so happy that you enjoyed that fic, it truly means so much to me! I hope you are well and that you have the best day ❤️

#saiki kuriko #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.

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acertainmoshke · 4 months ago

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TELL ME ABOUT YOUR CHARACTERS!!!!!!!! (not forced! I'm just interested)

Congrats anon, you've given me an excuse to babble about the book that's in editing so I've been neglecting a bit on here lately! This book is my baby though, and I've been working on some variation of it since high school.

The most important things to know about this story is that it's basically a portal fantasy, but it's set in the 50's. Each sequel will be 15-20 years after the last one ends. Now, I'm going to just babble at length about my characters. It's going to get very long, and thank you in advance to anyone who actually reads it.

Shakatra is the main character. They are a changeling swapped for a human baby named Cassandra the year they were born, in 1916. This should make them 40 in 1956, but Fae aging is weird. Changelings tend to grow up normally until about 15 and then their aging slows waaaay down but at different, varying rates, because there's no logic to them.

So, in 1956, Shakatra is physically and mentally 20. I know that with precision, but they don't. In modern terms, they are also autistic, nonbinary, asexual, and some level of aro-spec. However. It's the 50's, so they know exactly none of that. All of it is just coding for the first book and will slowly become explicit later in the series. The lack of attraction is there if you notice it in a line or two but not super obvious because 90% of the people they interact with are their brother or children, so really it's like...they don't lust at random strangers on the street and they're not into the one girl they befriend.

The autism is pretty obvious if you know what to look for, but not named for obvious reasons. I was going to have them discover they/them pronouns via a Fae they meet beyond the veil, but now I think I'm going to keep the clear discomfort with any gender and then make it clearer later.

Their backstory is typically dramatically tragic: they were abused for being disabled a changeling (the line here is a bit blurry because changelings seem human but also "wrong" when they're young). They were bullied by their older brothers, hated school, and got blamed for the death of their younger brother. Around 12, they met Kris, a changeling already living on the streets, and became friends. When they ran away a few years later, the two stuck together and now consider each other siblings. Glamour and ice magic come very easily to them, though they have spent lots of time practicing, and they fight like a feral, frantic weasel.

When the book starts, Shaka is actually fairly content with their life. They use glamour to go unnoticed wandering the streets, sleep in the abandoned section of the city-tunnels under Seattle (originally were going to live in the Chicago subway but I decided this was more interesting), glamour people at diners into free food (they eat almost solely pancakes and chocolate bars), pick fights with wildlings (Fae from their own realm who moved here), and play dumb games with their brother. They never really wanted anything else. They don't even want to go on the quest, though it's their idea. But they realize that if they're turning 40 this year, so is the human they replaced, and feel obligated to go release her from whatever servitude the Fae have her in.

Shaka looks like a fairly standard fantasy Fae; purple-tinted skin, pointed ears, sharp teeth, silver cat eyes. It's self-indulgent, but you know what it's classic for a reason.

Kristoffer is Shakatra's brother, a changeling who grew up on the streets. He isn't sure exactly when he was born, but they guess it was also about 1916. He ages at a slightly faster rate, and in 1956 is physically and mentally 23 (not yet a noticeable difference; that comes later).

Kris is a trans man and bisexual. He doesn't have words for these things in the 50's either, but he's clear on their existence, unlike Shakatra. He considers himself a man, gave himself a name from the ones he heard human boys use when he was young, binds with scarves, and likes to people watch, both out of interest and desire. Other than being traumatized, he's neurotypical and has a secret wish for a normal, human-like life. Unlike Shaka, he doesn't enjoy fighting. Unlike Shaka, he actually has an interest in the way clothes look (though he's homeless and doesn't get to show this off). He gets bored of the same repetitive distractions. And it doesn't help that he's seemingly allergic to magic; though he can do it, it makes him violently sick so he stopped trying long before he met Shaka and has never mentioned it, just using his strength in fights, which is usually enough. The one exception, which neither of them realize is unusual, is that he has a sort of limited telepathy—he can reach out to communicate and others can think back but he can’t read minds. He and Shaka, connected like this for decades, can read each other’s emotions.

His backstory is even more tragic; he was abandoned by the family he was left with too young to even remember them and ended up living on the edge of a group of wildlings, not known for their nurturing qualities. He stayed only until he could steal food for himself, and remained completely alone until he met Shaka, lurking to watch human children play. He was excellent at surviving, but he didn't know how to read until they taught him (but then had a much bigger interest in it), and had no idea that he wasn't "supposed" to be a boy until they explained.

At the beginning of the story, Kris is restless. He isn't happy with their just-subsisting life, but even if he could leave he wouldn't abandon his sibling. So he's glad of the quest, although with new dangers the novelty quickly wears off. He likes to read, when he can, and even more than that he enjoys calculating things like years or whatever else he can think of. He's also artistic, and uses chalk and paint to draw pictures all over their home.

Kris is a Black changeling, and both he and the narrative are aware of how this intersects; a basic look-human glamour isn't enough to wander into a shop, they had to perfect one that changes everything about him and he hates it. Also people can be more scared of him at first, even though Shaka is the fiercer and more volatile of the two. He is tall and fat with brown skin covered in little spikes like acorn caps, with void-black eyes and long twisting horns that shine like abalone shell.

(ok those are the main two, the others will be a bit shorter really)

Maggie is the human who, in an ordinary portal fantasy, would be the protagonist. She was born in 1935, making her 21 in 1956, and has lived in a small mountain town her entire life. She's quirky and weird and an annoyance to her parents, but her life has been mostly alright. Her younger brother, Nicholas, was taken and replaced as a toddler. Maggie, a rare human able to see through glamour, knew immediately but no one believed her. In any case, the changeling was sweeter and she preferred him (she was like 7), so she moved on and loved him. But as his changeling traits became clearer, he faced more rejection and it became the two of them isolated in town. He died at around 13, which is actually very normal; changelings tend to be weak and ill, and Shaka and Kris surviving is the exception.

Since then, Maggie has been aware of strange Fae happenings in town that no one else saw, but largely ignored them until even the others noticed. When she meets Shaka and Kris, the entire town is huddled in the diner hiding from these beings. But all she cares about is getting out of there and finding her brother, rescuing him now that the other one is gone. So she bravely walks up to the first Fae she sees and demands to go with them. Neither have good enough social skills to refuse, so she's a part of the team.

She gets along with Kris immediately, and might even have chemistry, but they never get together (there is zero romance in this book). She's some sort of queer I think, but that won't be relevant until book 2. She distrusts and dislikes Shaka for a long time, but eventually the two bond.

Maggie looks like a typical white 50's girl (for now; might change in later drafts): hazel eyes, flipped black hair, round glasses.

Cassie is the human child who was replaced by Shakatra as an infant. She was taken to a Fae court in another realm and kept there for 40 years. She's not autistic, but she's also far from normal: she finds violence fun and exciting, is trained in singing and dancing to entertain the Fae around her, and is excellent at being in places she shouldn't.

She is also 10 years old. Because it turns out that most of the children stolen by the Fae are frozen at a young age and treated like dolls, decorations, or collections. They are expected to look pretty and have clever skills, but vanish when they aren't wanted. She represents a problem for our heroes: they were expecting to set a grown woman free and move on, but now they're stuck with a traumatized child who will never grow up.

Changelings grow to somewhat physically match the human they replaced, so she looks like a human version of Shaka: white, thick black hair, blue eyes. She chooses to go by Cassie because her full name, Cassandra, was used as a method of control and her Fae nickname, Berry, only reminds her of her trauma.

Zuri is the child that Kris replaced. Kris doesn't know his original name, so they find her by accident. Zuri is angry, and hurt, and more isolated than most of the humans at court. But she also likes to read and draw and is naturally pretty quiet.

She is 16 years old, because the Fae who took her in wanted an eternal daughter instead of a doll. She was used as a confidante and kept alone in an apartment instead of allowed to vanish without supervision like the other children.

She looks like a human version of Kris: Black, tall and fat, brown eyes, textured brown hair trimmed short. She keeps going by her full name, Zuri, despite its association with forced obedience, as a way of reclaiming what's hers. She has a nickname too, but I can't remember it at the moment.

Sparrow is Maggie's original brother. The Fae who took him was later killed so he ended up as someone else's inheritance, treated like a mildly interesting pet. He saw the other children, sometimes, but often ended up alone and became good at improvising games with leaves and rocks. He likes to hum and sing.

He's also only 4 years old, one of the younger eternal-children.

He looks a lot like Maggie: white (for now) with messy brown hair, hazel eyes, and freckles. He still goes by his Fae nickname, Sparrow, because being called his true name upsets and frightens him.

Moss is the de facto leader of the taken children. He's one of the oldest, in every sense, one of the few kept as a teenager and also having been there for several centuries. He longs for an escape but accepts that he's stuck with responsibility. He also, initially, resents Zuri for also being old enough but being kept away and not having to deal with children's drama. He's picked up a number of skills over the years, including fighting, all kinds of art, and even some limited magic (or maybe he was born with that skill as some humans are, who knows?).

He is Southeast Asian (I've gone back and forth on being more specific, but as he was taken as a baby like 600 years ago I'm not sure he'd know where exactly) with dark brown eyes and long black hair. He uses his nickname Moss, and honestly doesn't even remember his true name. It's been so long since anyone needed it to keep him in line...until now.

#moshke writes #writeblr #cold iron #babbling about characters

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