ahli-stuff - Tumblr blog

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a potentially true fact about moc weepe: he likes birds

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It’s nights like these that remind me of my deepest fantasy

Where im all alone and I feel the cold dark earth caressing me

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Radioapple could be better

Back in the old days radioapple was my fan favorite crack ship . How the times change

Before we got our official depiction of Lucifer as we have now, I imagined him to be condescending, sly, manipulative character who would go on to be Alastor’s foil. Now, the only thing of that remains is that he is Alastor’s foil but the subversion of the sexy and powerful Lucifer of pop culture into sad-awkward dad Lucifer is amazing and I’ve grown really fond of it.

But for how popular it is now, there’s still a big itch that fan content for radioapple (or maybe just Lucifer) fails to scratch for me. This isn’t an issue I have that’s exclusive to Lucifer either, I nearly lost my mind about it in Tv series Lucifer(2016) too.

it’s the fact that there’s barely anyone seems to depict Lucifer’s sheer knowledge. If we are going by the finale, 10,000 years ago is when Lucifer first fell. He is at least 10,000 years old.

10,000 years to learn from the millions of stories (in passing and directly) who have fallen into hell. The wars, the disasters, the movements, the people!!! Age does not equate to wisdom, but you cannot live that long and fail to pick up a certain degree of separation from petty grievances of people who have lived only a fraction of the time you have. That’s doesn’t mean you’re immune to doing irrational things or having childish flaws, but those should coexist with the sheer weight of your knowledge. There should be a certain novelty that an immortal feels in being grounded around very young people who treat them like they are human. Because the knowledge and experience that comes with being immortal can be very dehumanizing, and that is especially so for a figure who has been maybe the most demonized in myth and religion ever.

Give me a Lucifer who knows thousands of different writings, religions, traditions, languages. Give me a Lucifer who contemplates the cruelty of some of the most infamous sinners in real life that have fallen into hell. Give me a Lucifer who becomes lost in ancient levels of nostalgia—his halcyon days with Lilith when humanity began to rear up and he was still hopeful.

Give me an Alastor who, beyond his resentment and ego, is deathly curious how Lucifer works. As a kid who likely went to church every Sunday and listened to pastors caution against the devil so many times his ears may fall off, to meet the guy himself? To meet the entity whom the entirety of the god fearing south wanted to scare him to sleep with? To finally meet the dealmaker of dealmakers?

Give me a late night conversation between the two where they discuss the what alastor has heard about Lucifer topside, Lucifer’s genuine curiosity of Alastor’s morality as a human, and the overall smallness of their existences in the largeness of their myths.

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WAITVA MINUTE DID KOZMA LAZLO ACTUALLY BLOW UP THE MOON THEN??

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Me when i love moc weepe so much but there’s barely any fan content of him so i will be turning to his cousin . Nick valentine

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Ok this is art I found in my photo album from TWO YEARS AGO I DONT REMEMBER DRAWING THIS AT ALL LOL

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Going from scouring the internet from yt comments to any hint of keywords to rereading and refinding every scrap of content for my niche fav corinthian to having a feed just on Twitter filled with mountains and mountains of Alastor fanart because he’s a fan favorite is sure the experience

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I had SUCH an aroace moment yesterday and not to be corny but when it happened you could see the physical clicking in my brain with the multiple aroace alastor centric fics I read over the months

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*Sweating throwing up nauseous dizzy*

What if vox is Asian American

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manje byen (eat well)

Tw: self cannibalism, gore, religious imagery, s/h, and ED

A snippet from an alastor-centric character study I wrote last night

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As a radio host he hadn’t much, but there was enough for tangy crawfish boil a week for his mother. The forks were extra, so they both used their hands. Stained orange and delicious by the end of it all, she chased him around the kitchen island to his delighted screaming. There were dollar or two of extra for crunchy basket frog legs for Alastor and his friends to share. He had two: Daphne, who snorted her cold spot and picked all the spicy fat off her frogs and Edie who growled like an old man but had a special sauce Alastor still uses to this day.

How are they doing now, he wonders?

Alastor pulls with his claw fillet-style; it squelches, the charred skin peels in a straight line. It is the event horizon where muscle separates from bone, mind from body, reason from instinct.

There are no words for the cavernous hunger within him. Addiction, perhaps? The mere word sends violence down his arm like a shot nerve. The vulgarity! It’s different from that spider’s powdered nostrils and blood webbed eyes. The way needles surround men and women like him; halos of glass. He has seen roads of concrete bound slobbering as religiously as he was forced to pray on Sundays.

He knows addiction. Addiction is total loss of control. He is not Angel Dust or Husk, buckling under the weight of a wretched men and insidious escapism.

where he curls, in a room, somewhere—his blood on the shattered tile is almost sacrament. His nails leaves the porcelain cracked. Yes, this is holier. The wine in church was better because it was blood.

Saliva begins to drips from his jaws; acid rain from the skies of Hell.

His stomach in the process of dissolving. When is hunger starvation? When is starvation sacrilege? Maybe him and Rosie could entertain those hypotheticals like they did before if he makes it out of this bathroom alive. Like him, she is a hollow eyed animal in winter. Certain that death under the irremovably human snow slow surety that starvation approaches. He wheezes wondering how she would prepare his bones for a broth. Would she flatter him, call the smell of the blood under his jacket aromatic while removing his marrow?

The blood is becoming a meal underneath him. Savory as the juice of a crawfish boil.

He is so hungry.

And then his arm is a cup, and pouring its contents down his throat is easy.

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WIPAPACOLYPSE

pop grunge Alastor wip

DND HAZBIN HOTEL AU okay this is something im super excited about I won’t go into big detail on this post but here’s the races and classes

Alastor warlock omikri

Husk tabaxi alchemist

Charlie archdemon bard

Vaggie fallen angel paladin

Nifty cyclops rogue

Pentious halfblood yuanti artificer

Angel dust Arachne gunslinger

I will endlessly yap about this over this oved on its own separate post

MLP au !! Very excited to draw Alastor’s true form ponified. Am currently referencing mlpinfection arc to get the vibes right.

Alastor and Rosie singing “the cover is not the book” from Mary poppins returns !! Highly highly recommend listening to this song bc viv said in the past that radiorose’s dynamic is v much like marry poppins and jack the chimney sweeper

Main: @a-h-li

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Some sketches in ink of our strawberry pimp

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I'm fucking laughing that Weepe's description is basically like, well okay, so he's now the human version of a deep sea fish, that's really not as bad as I was expecting, but the sound design really makes it DREAD-inspiring.

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I saw a spoiler from the new nightmare country that made me very upset.

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can you miss yourself before youre dead

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I really want to to read some fanfiction or look at some fanart that explores Charlie’s age (since i heard it was said that she’s at least 200 ish??) in relation to the younger sinners in hell

Because even in canon she definitely feels younger than characters like Husk, Alastor, Angel, and even Vaggie but in reality charlie was like.. around since the like.. horse and wagon days u know?? She’s older than all of them.

while she is not Lucifer levels of “beyond the trifles of human affairs” she was around for the era of which humanity had exponential levels of expansion and advancement in technology. Unless it turns out she’s been like extremely sheltered and cooped up, Charlie seen some of the absolute worst of sinners but also has been able to bear witness to the absolute genius of them—the invention of the first telephone, typewriters, phonographs (oh, she would’ve loved them when they came out), cameras, and the list goes on. With that kind of age and experience there also comes a kind of wisdom, which is why I don’t really buy that she’s that naïve or (completely) blindly optimistic. I really want Charlie to be optimistic in spite of the evil in hell instead of Charlie being optimistic because she’s oblivious.

It would be fun if she were to have an interaction with another character where she is able to show a surprising bit of nostalgia, maybe referencing an musical or a book that used to be popular. I mean her dress style does bear a striking resemblance this one ref of an 1880s tux I found, especially the shoes (what is the name of these types of shoes??). Going by that, I assume it means that for all that Charlie has kept up with the times there are still things that even she can’t let go of.

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Man NO one writes Alastor fanfiction as well as Ckret2 does

Thus, two of the best fics period for this fandom ever: