staticintone

[staticintone]

- Logs into this account after a month of being gone.

- Accidentally likes a post.

- Immediately logs back out.

[staticintone]

“Over for you, perhaps…”

And a soft laugh, musical and full. The shadow tinged with gold hums away the same tune as before. One associated with Alastor and poured into his being.

The threat already in motion; you could not plead it away no matter how much you begged. How much you bled.

“Vox, get up.”

His tone far too harsh to be comforting, but it is genuine and filled with worry nonetheless. The longer Vox stayed at his feet, the more anxiety crept into the corners of his own mind. Unfair to both of them. There was no reason to fall this way.

“You’re scaring me.”

The stitches are soon replaced, heavy and tight and twisted. Alastor cannot focus right now on both, so both falter. He is subpar at mending, subpar at comforting.

The glow fades from underneath his hand, and he can finally reach for Vox. Both hands gentle, despite the shaking fury one held just a moment ago.

Let them breathe.

“It’s over. Whatever it is, it’s over.”

For now.

Nevermind the bloodstains, the paranoia, the looming cloud overcast.

Them?

Maybe it was true after all. Maybe Vox had lost his mind entirely. Raked his claws across Alastor’s face until he bled. Blamed it on something that didn’t exist. Blamed it on someone else.

Red soaking between his fingers now.

Itching in the back of his mind. Death. Death. Blood means death. Whispers never far behind.

Static filling the room where they are alone. They are alone.

“Stop. Stop that now. How did you do it? How did you get into my—”

The thought cuts itself off at the knees. It’s impossible for Vox to reach the threads without Alastor making it so. He can barely snap them himself, not without effort, Vox couldn’t.

“I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense.”

He cannot reach for Vox, grant him forgiveness with his hands. His right hand is far too busy holding his mouth in position. His left debating a strike—not to Vox… right?

[staticintone]

Them?

Maybe it was true after all. Maybe Vox had lost his mind entirely. Raked his claws across Alastor’s face until he bled. Blamed it on something that didn’t exist. Blamed it on someone else.

Red soaking between his fingers now.

Itching in the back of his mind. Death. Death. Blood means death. Whispers never far behind.

Static filling the room where they are alone. They are alone.

“Stop. Stop that now. How did you do it? How did you get into my—”

The thought cuts itself off at the knees. It’s impossible for Vox to reach the threads without Alastor making it so. He can barely snap them himself, not without effort, Vox couldn’t.

“I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense.”

He cannot reach for Vox, grant him forgiveness with his hands. His right hand is far too busy holding his mouth in position. His left debating a strike—not to Vox… right?

“Do you recall the universes where he’s cruel to you? The ones where he’s an irredeemable monster?”

Alastor himself seems suspended in time, clock frozen, those same worried eyes and strained smile.

“Every misunderstanding, every harsh tone, every brutal word are all mine.”

The invisible hand reaches over Alastor’s shoulder and cups his cheek. A solid dark pointed nail makes itself known. Looping into something unseen.

“Every broken stitch.”

And rips it out.

“Be more careful next time.”

And Alastor came back into the moment, as if it never paused.

His smile more distorted now as his hand flew to cover his face. In pain, agonizing. A look of betrayal as he registered that he and Vox were supposedly the only ones in the room.

“What did you—Why?”

[staticintone]

“Do you recall the universes where he’s cruel to you? The ones where he’s an irredeemable monster?”

Alastor himself seems suspended in time, clock frozen, those same worried eyes and strained smile.

“Every misunderstanding, every harsh tone, every brutal word are all mine.”

The invisible hand reaches over Alastor’s shoulder and cups his cheek. A solid dark pointed nail makes itself known. Looping into something unseen.

“Every broken stitch.”

And rips it out.

“Be more careful next time.”

And Alastor came back into the moment, as if it never paused.

His smile more distorted now as his hand flew to cover his face. In pain, agonizing. A look of betrayal as he registered that he and Vox were supposedly the only ones in the room.

“What did you—Why?”

@staticintone whispered a line threat !! m!a: rp sentient ( accepting until midnight! ) “You should be nicer to me, Vox. I can kill him.”

it's like his heart froze over. because he knew it was true. the two beings had certainly killed him, over and over again even just in one world's iteration. he dies all the time, and maybe that should bother him, but death is just another part of life in hell, really. and that should be true in alastor's case, too, but somehow he can't bring himself to say another harsh word.

if they're so willing to destroy what they create, he needs to be more careful. his energy is sapped all at once, and suddenly he is quite small.

❛ okay. okay. please, don't. ❜

he would rather die again.

[staticintone]

Sigh.

[staticintone]

He tried the wife test, realized it was asking about someone else, and got this instead.

Husband Test

[staticintone]

“He mentioned a name…? Or something? It was Greek.”

At the very least, he knew that he could trust Armand with whatever this was.

It was starting to haunt him.

“… What can we do?”

@staticintone PHONED IN ! – “So… about Vox.” / @voxxisms m!a specific

❝ I know. ❞ Spoken in the tone of an elder gossip, laced with that certain brand of concern and, no doubt, a bit of judgement.

It's mostly concern. Mostly.

❝ He's completely out of his head ! ❞

[staticintone]

“Take a breath.”

While Alastor’s voice is sturdy but hollow, there’s a gentleness to the second tone. Taking pity on the puppet, as the puppeteer allows the dance to continue.

Vox’s outreach does not go unnoticed, and Alastor is quick to take his hands. He is real. His movements are the same as they always have been. Nothing about him has changed, not in the eighty years the two have been intertwined.

Why would that be any different now?

His grasp is tight, concerned. The panic in Vox’s voice is too concrete to be ignored. Does he believe him? Does that even matter?

“Where did this come from?”

Asking the wrong questions perhaps, but if Alastor can direct away from the problem at hand… Maybe he wouldn’t feel those nails digging into him so sharply.

“Do you really think he’s less just because he’s mine?”

“… Do you really think your words are no longer your own?”

The whispers in the darkness will not let up. Speaking mockingly, sweetly, cruelly, in every voice Vox had ever heard from Alastor’s lips. The melody in the air a blanket, both smothering and cradling at once.

“I’m afraid I can’t say too much—Lee is a good friend of mine. I wouldn’t want to spoil his surprises for you.”

@voxxisms is meeting potámi…

“What?”

“Don’t worry about speaking, Vox. I can hear your thoughts just the same, if not more.”

Alastor was concerned, he couldn’t comprehend this seeming break in Vox. It sounded as though it could have been some recognition—but that wasn’t possible, was it?

Was Vox contracted too?

“Pulling the strings?”

Can you feel the smile? As they speak simultaneously? Can you feel the very air mocking you?

“What has gotten into you? Talk to me, what is going on?”

Do you feel less real, Vox? Knowing your God?

Knowing Alastor’s?

[staticintone]

Yes, this is how I would talk to my characters if they showed up at my house one day.

Yes, I’m an evil bitch.

[staticintone]

@voxxisms is meeting potámi…

“What?”

“Don’t worry about speaking, Vox. I can hear your thoughts just the same, if not more.”

Alastor was concerned, he couldn’t comprehend this seeming break in Vox. It sounded as though it could have been some recognition—but that wasn’t possible, was it?

Was Vox contracted too?

“Pulling the strings?”

Can you feel the smile? As they speak simultaneously? Can you feel the very air mocking you?

“What has gotten into you? Talk to me, what is going on?”

Do you feel less real, Vox? Knowing your God?

Knowing Alastor’s?

[staticintone]

commission info .

[staticintone]

🖤

Kink Reveal: Possession

Come on, you knew this was coming.

Alastor enjoys being the center of his partner’s world. Not just for the attention, but for the sake of worship. He’ll never admit to it, in fact he’ll argue against it at every step, but because of the nature of his own obsession, he expects it in kind.

If he’s convinced the feeling is mutual, he’s secure and this will never come out.

But in any circumstances where his partner is pulling away from him or shifting their focus, he will get incredibly possessive and greedy.

In sex this involves marking, aggression, and—for lack of a better word—surrounding. He will overwhelm his partner’s senses, consume their space and become all they can focus on. Shut out the outside world, and he will trap them in the moment. Using every tool at his disposal: overstimulation, the tentacles, the chrysalis.

“I own you.”

His partners will leave bloody and bruised and broken if he can help it.

It also… translates to more specific kinks.

Branding. Breeding.

[staticintone]

❤️

Kink Reveal: Sadism/Blood Play

The scent of blood doesn’t just get him drooling because he’s a cannibal, after all.

I’m not sorry.

There are a few reasons he enjoys seeing his partner in pain.

Firstly, Alastor is very much sensitive to sound. The hitches in breath, the whimpers, the moans all drive him insane. He wants to hear the full spectrum of his partner’s pleasure.

Secondly, it’s a form of marking. Even if the cuts, scratches, bruises, only last a few minutes or hours he likes seeing the effect he has on a partner.

“You’re so beautiful when you cry and bleed for me.”

It’s a purely selfish kink, and he’s aware of it. So it’s actually rarer to see when he’s in an actual relationship. Unless his partner is seeking it out, he is much more likely to be gentler and sweeter.

Or if he’s pissed off, jealous and manic.

Which is easier to cause than most realize.

[staticintone]

P.S. @relicta-amans is me.

You can reblog anything you see from it.

[staticintone]

❤️ Vox wants to know if shoving the microphone up his ass is a kink before he commits one way or the other - @voxuli :]

I’m cackling—dear lord

Kink Reveal: Domination/Topping

This is a man who does not submit for anything.

He’s more likely to fight to the death than to end up taking it. He can falsely play bottom/submissive, especially when he’s in love, but know he’s not actually bending over for anyone.

“So you’re in control now? We’ll see about that.”

Feel free to try, but his control issues and pride will take over every time.

In other words, no. But he’ll shove it up yours, Vox.

[staticintone]

❤️

Kink Reveal: Brat Tamer

Anyone who has seen any of my interactions can probably guess this just from how he talks to any and all partners who oppose him.

My Alastor enjoys riling someone up just to play the calm and collected one by comparison. The wilder someone gets, the more he relaxes and enjoys the show. It’s part of the humiliation.

In sex this manifests mostly as shaming and heavy hands.

“Darling, if you don’t calm down, I won’t touch you.”

He’ll usually hold someone, prevent them from acting out. All while frustrating and teasing until they submit.

But if they get more bratty instead of less, that’s when the sadism kicks in.

He’s willing to make someone cry if it gets them to beg.

[staticintone]

@voxuli is making a scene again

“And herein lies my point.”

He’s thoroughly amused.

“We both know you’ll never follow through on that, but you blow yourself up over it every time.”