transinistor

[transinistor]

Radiostatic, actually.

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[transinistor]

SUNDAY MEME || ACCEPTING.

1 Is your muse a romantic ? Do they dream of love and marriage ?

Absolutely not !! Outside of the vague comp-het that made and HAS MADE Alastor think/feel like he should/should have married Mimizy, no Alastor would never be able to say he's a romantic in the traditional way of fantasizing about love and marriage. He's never wanted to be a father, he hates the thought of it and he's never really wanted to be someone's husband.

He... Wants someone. Someone special. Or maybe more than one someone. But not necessarily as a wife or a spouse. QPRs are Alastor's thing, even if he doesn't really know the term to apply it.

He's also not necessarily monogamous. Like, he doesn't see the trouble in having more than one partner as long as everyone's chill with it, but that could just be his inherent asexuality / aromantisim choosing anarchy in a traditional romantic dynamic because he knows traditional isn't for him but doesn't know exactly how or why he's so outside the norm.

10 Have their crushes been mostly male, mostly female, or evenly split ?

Alastor's genuinely had only ever had a ""crush"" on a man twice. Vox and Husk. Husk, I think, was more... Intense than Vox because Alastor actually pursued Husk in someway but Vox more fell into his lap and he worked up a weird fondness for him because he was just such a guy. But they're his only male squishes so I'd say yeah, no, his squishes have been predominately female.

8 Is your muse comfortable with, or proud of their body ? Are they insecure ?

While Alastor's absolutely not a fan of being naked or nudity it has nothing to really do with insecurity. He honestly has no real strong feelings on his body and never has. He likes his demon self more than his human self, he likes his teeth and claws. He also likes his sheath and the fact his penis and balls are internal now for the most part. He's never really felt like those things should be swinging around on the outside, thats a fucking weird/stupid feature of the human design according to him and while he was human he definitely felt he could do without those things. He generally just thinks everyone's more attractive with their clothes on.... Except for maybe Vox. Vox got stuff going on thats just fascinating to Alastor, not in a sexual way but just generally Vox's weird demon tv shark situation is interesting and attractive as hell in an intellectual / aesthetic way. The vents/gills do it for him especially because of the sadistic shit he can imagine himself doing with them LMAO.

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attackdog puppyplay where I rip your enemies to bloody pieces and then lay my head in your lap to hear ‘attaboy’ and feel fingers in my sweaty, bloody hair

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Swamp relaxation🪷 🪷🪷

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Happy Sunday @rradiio

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Of  course,  he  remembered.  Husk's  casino  had  been  one  of  his  favorite  places  in  hell.  Smooth  funk  and  jazz,  the  smell  of  cigars,  cigarettes,  whisky  and  split  bourbon,  lights  of  neon  and  amber,  every  surface  alive  and  gleaming  with  wonder;  a  place  that  felt  like  adventure  and  home  all  at  the  same  time  and,  of  course,  the  ever-so-handsome  high  roller  at the head  of  it  all.....  The  now  perpetually  drunk  feline,  a  shell  ━  a  husk  of  his  old  self  ━  lying  on  the  bed  just  over  from  him.

Well...  This  wasn't  fun  or  even  the  least  bit  entertaining  anymore.  He's  turned  away  from  Husk,  eyes  focusing  on  the  current  pornographic  scene  playing  on  the  television,  but  he's  not  really  absorbing that.  He's  simply  buzzing  with  a  sharp,  static  tone,  an  aura  that  ripples  across  the  screen  of  the  old  TV,  causing  the  lewd  images that he looks straight through  to  flicker  and  twist.

Did  Husk...  Did  anyone  really  think  he  just  fucked  off  for  seven  years  for  fun ?  To  relax ?  Oh,  no,  no,  he  wants  them  to  think  that  ━  it  means  he  doesn't  have  to  explain,  but  it  wasn't  that.  It  wasn't  that  at  all.  His  once  great  reputation  lay  in  tatters.  Seven  years  in  hell  was  a  lifetime  or  more.  All  his  grand  performances  lost  and  forgotten...  But  he'd  always  been  a  puppet  dancing  on  a  string... The  curl  in  his  lip  distorts  like  the  picture  on  the  TV.  Warbling  with  a  swell  of  emotion  but  none  of  the  usual  bombastic  cheer  he  was  known  for.  His  voice  comes  flat. Measured.  ❝ How  could  I  ever  forget ?  We had  such  fun  together,  you  and  I ..... ❞

He  raises  a  clawed  hand  to  rest  against  his  face,  composing  himself  momentarily  as  it  sweeps  through  his  hair.  When  he  turns  back  to  Husk,  his  grin  is  tight, sharp and forced, just like the tone of his voice. ❝ I  did not leave  because  I  wanted  to. It  was not a  fucking vacation, Husker. I didn't abandon you - I  had  no  choice in the matter. ❞

He  didn't  frown;  he  never  really  did;  that's  what  made  the  chill  in  his  voice  so  wrong.  The  glint  in  his  eyes,  the  dancing  flame  of  irritation, the only thing that remains animated about him,  says  it  all.  He  moves  forward  with  this, snatching the  bottle  right  out  of  Husk's  hands  before he  recoils  back  to  his  place. There a lingering stare as he  takes  a  sip,  dangerous eyes  never  quite  leaving  the  old  cat.  Having  unceremoniously  taken  possession  of  the  bottle,  his  mood  slowly  simmers  back  into  something  agreeable,  and  his  smile  lightens, too.

❝ Now  then, I do hope  that  you're  satisfied, because  I'm  afraid  if  I  tell  you  anything  else,  I'll  have  to  kill  you. ❞

` the feeling in the air has changed so sharply from its original humorous glint. it could choke him if he lets it. try though alastor might to conceal himself and keep his tone as light as ever, the weight of vulnerability shines through so clearly, it's blinding. after all, there's no reason for alastor to care at all what he is to husk, what husk thinks of him. a mighty overlord hungry for souls, the old cat lives under his thumb as any other. what should it matter?

` but they weren't always this way. they were equals once. more than equals. alastor chose to visit him and husk chose to welcome him. it seems like a lifetime ago. unaddressed, unspoken since his return, husk had started to wonder if alastor simply preferred to ignore that history.

` the bottle slowly lowers to rest on husk's leg as he returns his gaze to view alastor in the periphery, as though looking at him directly might be too much. what mockery might he find there? if he spoke with honesty, would that cheshire grin widen even further to laugh at the pathetic old cat and his too-soft heart? husk can't bring himself to care. he can't get much lower.

` " d'you remember how we used to be? before, " husk takes a deep inhale and expels a heavy sigh, shifting in his position on the bed to sit forward. the question of ' what they are ' isn't quite so simple. the weight of it is too fucking heavy, especially if alastor needs to ask. " before you left. d'you know what that did to me? hell, do you even care? "

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I know I've mentioned this before but in the spirit of sunday and me posting devious shit on the fly while I do yard work, Alastor's a repressed, prudish, repulsed little freak but he would really excel at eating pussy. I mean. Really excel at that. For pussy havers if you got Alastor to eat you out you he'd seriously impress; Alastor's oral fixation and pussy go insanely well together. Best part of this is he expects nothing in return. He wouldn't need or even really want to put his dick in it or even expect or want you to blow him in return. He'd be most happy just licking, sucking at and playing around with it till you pop. I mean would it turn him on ? Maybe. Especially if he got 'em wiggling and squirming and crazy over stimulated cause of the sense of pain and control there, but would he want to do anything phsycially about that for himself ? Not really. Little freak'd probably be able to bust himself hands free if you cried a little for him.

You also have to pull his hair and ears. Don't be gentle about it. Really yank and twist that shit.

Anyway...... You're welcome. He'd also let a woman peg him but thats neither here nor there.

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as an aroace, im particularly dangerous, because i wont fuck or marry. i only know how to kill.

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Any excuse to draw vox hands a billion times

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 𝟷𝟻 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 ::

repost  &  fill   in  the  words  you  most  associate  with  your  character.

ANIMAL : Crocs/alligators (No I'm not saying deer, thats obvious !)

COLOR(S) :  Muddy, dark colors. Reds, browns, greens.

SONG : Blood - MCR

PLANT : Venus fly trap.

TIME OF DAY: Midnight.

SMELL : Roux and Iron.

SEASON : Spring ( for all its darker aspects. iykyk !!)

PLACE:  An eerie shack in the swamp.

CANDY : Dark chocolate bullets.

GEMSTONE: Garnet.

ASTROLOGICAL  SIGN :  Gemini.

FABRIC : Leather, fur, cotton.

DRINK : Whisky.

VICE : Wrath.

VIRTUE : Charity.

Yoinked from : @advlox :3 Tagging : @grldinnr , @hazbinned (Mimzy!) , @salutcle , @evolutn , @polaroidxcamera , @lightbringer-morningstar and anyone else who wants to do it !

[transinistor]

"Alastor if it was a life or death situation and you had to pick one guy to have sex with to save both your lives, who would you pick?"

His brows furrow thoughtfully, a finger rubbing his chin as if this was an extremely hard question to answer. He appears as if deep in thought before finally, and very suddenly, with a swing in his mood that completely betrays the apparent thought it seemed he had to give to this question initially, chirps an answer:

❝ I supposed I'd have to pick Husker ! ❞ This comes with an exaggerated shrug ━ he makes it sound as if it was an obvious answer, but he's not about to let anyone have too much fun with that, either. ❝ He drinks enough to forget, I’m repressed enough to dissociate, and so with any luck, neither of us will remember a damn thing ! ❞

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no sorry i dont really use instagram, i can contact you via ouija board, spirit box, fluctuations in temperature, flickering lights, and certain rituals. i am also on tumblr.

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The look of pure horror and disgust on Lucifer’s face is so funny

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She  talks  fast,  but  it's  a  good  thing  Alastor  is  a  fast  listener.  His  head  tilts,  ears  flopping  with  gravity  as  he  does,  taking  in  her  joyous  and  fast-paced  explanation.  Though  a  quizzical  tint  colours  his  ever-grinning  expression,  he's  pretty  sure  he  pieced  it  together.  It  wasn't  exactly  rocket  science  at  this  point,  though  it  was  a  little  amusing  to  think  about.

❝  Ha, now fancy  that !  ❞  Hell  was  so  different  from  the  world  of  the  living  ━  at  least  when  he  was  alive,  that  part  was  true  ━  but  ━   it  almost  felt  ridiculous  to  have  pride,  given  how  frequently,  shamelessly  and  obscenely  sexuality  was  paraded  down  here,  but  he's  not  against  it !

❝  Well,  I'm  all  for  folks  letting  their  hair  down,  and  I  do  love  a  good  party !  So  tell  me,  dear,  how  does  one  engage with such  a  grand  occasion ?  We  don't  have  to participate  in  any  lascivious  acts with strangers,  do  we ?  Oh,  and  is  there  ever  a  cake  involved ?  ❞

Eyes widened for more than one reason, however, her brain decided to focus on one topic; teaching Alastor about Pride Month. And what a delight that would be.

"Sort of! It's a celebration throughout the entire month of June where the LGBTQ+ community come together to revel in their freedom, since some places in the Mortal Realm don't exactly allow for people to be who they are or love who they want!"

It was a miracle that she didn't run out of breath from the way she talked so much and a bit too fast. Giving out as much rushed information as she can. Too giddy to really slow down.

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With  a  hand  over  his  heart,  like  a  maiden  wounded  by  the  accusation,  he  lets  out  a  mock  gasp.  ❝ Oh  heavens  no !  I'm  a  cannibal,  not  a  vegan ❞  His  eyes  roll  hard  with  this  admission,  ❝ I  respect  the  dietary  choices  of  others. ❞

He's  not  really offended  or  even  half  surprised  that  Vox  might  assume  such  a  thing.  ❝ This,  my  good paranoid  pal,  is  just  a  tasty  tuna  melt. ❞ With  this,  he  gracefully  reaches  to  the  plate  and  gives  it  a  little  turn  to  the  left  and  then  to  the  right  for  emphasis. ❝ You've  been  working  tirelessly  all  morning.  I  thought  you  might  be  a little hungry is all. ❞

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‏‏‎ ‎

    He looks at the sandwich like the sandwich is a well-known criminal; quite obviously planning a heist to eliminate his company from the books.  〝You put people in this, didn't you?〞

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@rcdemptionists : There was a loud crash from the kitchen, Charlie on her knees remedying a cut to her finger, placing it in her mouth to help heal it. Glass shards all around her. Slowly picking them up and putting them into one spot to clean it up easily. "I'm fine," She mumbled. "Just dropped something!"

As  if  conjured  by  the  sound  itself,  Alastor  appears  in  the  doorway,  his  gleaming  crimson  eyes  watching  as  the  princess  kneels  on  the  ground,  scrambling  to  tidy  up  the  shattered  glass  splayed  across  the  floor.  Though  he  couldn't  see  it  immediately,  he  knew  she'd  injured  herself  ━ he  could  smell  the  blood.  Not  much,  but  enough;  an  appetizing  aroma  he's  always  been  so  familiar  with.

Beneath  the  shards  dark  shadows begin to  swell,  and  with  an  otherworldly  hunger  the pieces  of  glass  that  littered  the  floor sink  inside the black pools,  smoke  rising  as  they  dissolved  away  into  nothing. Easy clean up and no more risks of getting slashed. No longer in the doorway but instead standing directly in front of her in a motion that happened within a blink, he's offering her a clawed hand up.

❝ The  crockery  giving  you  trouble,  sweetheart ?  I'll  have  words  with  it  if  you  like.  ❞