A normal individual!

radiostatic is so unbelievably funny to me because it’s mostly commonly referred to as a situationship, yet the thing is when people use the term “situationship” they usually mean two individuals obviously in a relationship but refusing to say the quiet part out loud. here the quiet part is not even being in a romance, its fucking being friends

fic where vox and alastor get into a physical fight right after the rejection when. fic where vox throws the first punch with tears streaming down his face and alastor has to match it when. fic where vox and alastor are on the floor actively and wildly beating the shit out of each other, swears and yells thrown, while other people in the bar can’t intervene because that’s the radio demon. fic where they both take a step back, chests heaving and hands bloodied and faces painted with far, far too many tears for not-friends, and alastor pauses before storming out of the bar without another word. fic where vox stands there, stares at the space alastor had just been, where the only person who has ever truly understood him had left him, lowers his head, and weeps.

staticlovetune and radiosilence and staticsilence and silencesilence are all canon. simultaneously. coexisting with one another. trust

(taps mic) “creep” by radiohead for Vox and “creep” by richard cheese for Alastor

a morbidly funny detail about Alastor is that he was a human cannibal in life, and then when he became a deer sinner he just went “I guess we’re doing this now” and started eating venison

thinking about Vox calling Alastor ‘Al’ casually and off-handedly and Alastor simply not correcting it should be considered hell on earth actually

ANYWAYS been thinkin’ about the choice of making Vox of all characters with entirely wire and metal and detachable parts, and how it’s not only a harrowingly ironic mockery of his death but also a reflection of his inner character. how he reinterprets and remolds himself to be what others want to see. how he is constantly scrambling for the newest trends, for cleaner, fresher, for newer, for brighter. how the more famous he becomes the more he detaches himself from the people around him, how he becomes a martyr for the people rather than a real, tangible being, revered and worshipped, yes, but alienated nonetheless. how his godhood further isolates him, only to be watched from afar as a place of religiosity for a greater, eldritch being, sans real interpersonal emotion. how in his desperate reach for others, he has only put himself on a pedestal above and doomed himself into further isolation. how he discards bits of himself, over and over and over again, just for the chance of another scrap of attention and praise. how he has become more machine than man. been thinkin’ about theseus’ ship. anyways.