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Julia Curyło — Hunting (oil on canvas and skull, 2021)

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african peach moth (egybolis vaillantina) | source

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What if Alastor yawned like a cat...

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I have a take on Alastor's backstory, based loosely on The Mariner's Revenge. Thought it would be a fun (tragic) motivation for his career as a killer, as well as an explanation for his moral code. TW for abuse and suggested SA towards his mom.

Alastor's mother used to be deeply in love with his father. He grew up with stories of a debonair gentleman who came in and swept her off her feet, who treated her with love and adoration, who was an equal partner through and through, in spite of their social differences. He even got to see some of it! At least, for a time.

He was a loving man and father, but over the years, Alastor noticed things that were... Off. Words spoken sweetly, yet that still seemed to make his mother wilt. Her smile never faultered around the man, but Alastor saw her when she thought she was alone. Alastor saw how she overextended herself, how she tired trying harder and harder to please his father, and began to pick up on how his father would use loving tones and soft words to manipulate her into giving him more and more of herself. (Walls were thin, and she wasn't always willing to give certain parts of herself, but he took anyway and Alastor heard.)

He became more distant with Alastor the closer he came to puberty, and at the same time, his mother's health started to fail her. She grew weak and sickly, and would often collapse from overexertion. Alastor's father grew irrate now that she had little left he could take from her. Gone were the sickly sweet words, replaced with pointed, scathing remarks, shouting, anything he could say to hurt her. Alastor took up the mantle of cooking and housekeeping, to help his mother and keep the ire of his father away from her.

He was already wary of his father, but at this point Alastor begins to hate him.

Soon after, his father became physical. He didn't do it in front of Alastor, but Alastor saw the bruises, and saw how his mother would flinch and cower in front of his father. (And he still HEARD. She only had one thing left he could take from her, and he took it nearly every night, whether or not her body could manage.) Yet, in front of Alastor, she still smiled as if nothing was wrong.

Through everything, she still treated Alastor as though he was the most precious gift she could ever have received. She tried her hardest to keep the reality of their situation away from him. She taught him the skills needed to run the home, singing his praises the entire time, forever expressing how much she loved and appreciated him. She was always assuring him that she was alright, saying that she was merely tired, that she just needed rest. She looked at him like he held her heart in his hands. And even in her sickness, she always did her best to keep his father's attention away from him.

It came to a head when Alastor turned 15. Alastor came home from school to find his mother on the floor, and the house in shambles. His father had been cheating for the last few years, and was stockpiling funds to run off with a new, younger, woman. He took anything of value in the house, including his mother's wedding ring. He had left them with nothing, and disappeared.

Alastor worked odd jobs to make ends meet, and took care of his sickly mother. He took to hunting and trapping to supplement their food supply. He studdied on his own, no longer having the time for school between work and caretaking. He tried his hardest, but his mother's health continued to rapidly decline as she spiraled into despair.

But she still smiled at him. She still tried to keep his spirits up. "Smile, my dear." She would say, cupping his face as he fussed over her. "You know, you're never fully dressed without one! And you have such a lovely smile..."

She became unable to do any of the things she used to love. Her hands shook too much to crochet or sew, she couldn't stand long enough to cook, dancing was far too much, and even reading became tiresome as time went on. Alastor always kept a radio playing at her bedside for company. He told her that he would get a job as a radio host, so he could be at her side, even while working. She told him that she looked forward to it, more than anything.

She only lasted two years after his father left them. She didn't pass on peacefully, either. She didn't want to die and leave her son all alone. She fought with all her might to hang on, even as her body failed her. Her mind crumbled apart, and she lived her final weeks in a haze of pain and delirium. She was grief stricken and filled with hurt, rage, and regret. She died with her greatest and final regret on her lips. "Find him, Alastor. Don't let him get away with what he did to us. Don't let that wretched man escape..." (Even in heaven, she regrets her final words every day.)

And thus, her rage is passed to Alastor. She has given him purpose, and the hunt begins. Any man who so much as reminds him of his father is a target. And as a teenager on his own, with barely any funds, well... Why waste good meat? Alastor found that humans and deer were not so different under a butcher's knife.

He's cut down before he finds him, so his hunt continues in Hell. Kills become more indiscriminate, since he can no longer identify him by sight. He could be anyone.

Aaaand that's it. Sorry it's so long, and I doubt anyone is gonna read it! But this little headcanon was swirling around my brain and I wanted to get it out! Also, Alastor has no clue that he's picked up some of his father's manipulative tendencies. He's not one for extensive self reflection.

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Leaf Insect, Rome 2021

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The moon dressed as Saturn.

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everyone wants to talk about whether someone can be goth if they don't listen to goth music or wear goth clothes but what i want to know is if i can go to darkwave shows and dress in black and still be a prep.

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