Reblogging This Bc They've Been Practically Invading My Ask Box And To Show Any Followers Who Are Uncertain

another thought I had about the hells winter thing when I was supposed to be paying attention in science lol-

the bayou is unaffected by hell's weather right? well what if because the more difference there is in the two temperatures, the harder it is to keep that up?

can you imagine him having that one safe space ripped from him? all while he's desperately trying to stay warm and just coping with cabin fever in general.

or the alternative:

when a particularly freezing night hits, angel pipes up with the idea of alastors bayou, and alastor has to deal with 6 (i forgot if pentious was dead in hidden hurts or not-) other demons in this one place that was supposed to be his safe space, and also the fact that keeping certain habits, secrets, and emotions hidden gets really REALLY hard when you have no alone time for god knows how long haha.

Hazbin Winter has been floating around my head like a mosquito, THERES TOO MANY POSSIBILITY'S !!

whump angst fluff and humour galore fr lmfao

I love this, and there's definitely a way to incorporate both ideas if you'll take a moment to imagine with me:

At first, things weren't too bad. It sucked and Alastor was cold all the time, but whatever. Then Angel had the bright idea of having everyone stay in Alastor's bayou on a particularly cold night which was also...fine. It was fine. However, one night turned into two, turned into a dozen, and suddenly, Alastor didn't have his own space anymore. That sucked because that meant he had no where he felt safe enough to let his guard down except Rosie's which was out of the question. He would have just shadow-traveled, except this was a Hell winter. and Hell winters were special in that they could be felt no matter what magic was being used unless it was angelic - which Alastor's was not. But it was fine. So what if he didn't have anywhere to decompress? That didn't matter. However, it did have repercussions.

As time wore on, Alastor became a lot more irritable and defensive. Stress built up to unbearable levels, and despite his usual insistence that he was above such things, he began taking little comments (that normally wouldn't have affected him very much) to heart, and letting them hurt his feelings which he of course never told anyone. Add on the fact that he was getting more and more exhausted as the days went by and that only made things worse. He started displaying some obvious nervous ticks from tugging on his hair, to picking at his hands/clothes, to fiddling with random objects, etc.. All of the stress only made the cold affect him more and that was the last thing he needed. It became harder and harder to use his magic and maintain preexisting spells as his body used all of its energy trying to stay warm - shivering constantly and burning calories he didn't have to spare since the stress made him unable to eat.

It all came to a head on one of the rare occasions he actually had his room to himself - everyone else was watching a movie in the lobby. He was curled in one of his chairs wrapped in blankets and shaking with cold despite the bayou's warmer temperature. He could only keep it so much warmer than the outside, and it had steadily gotten colder day by day as his magic weakened. He felt weaker than ever, and honestly wasn't sure if he'd be able to leave his chair. Suddenly, he felt alarmingly empty and he watched in pure horror as his beloved bayou - his only safe haven from his dealer's watchful eyes - faded from existence. He poured all of his strength into a last desperate attempt at saving it, but his best wasn't good enough and it disappeared. He let out a wretched cry and fell to the floor in a tangled heap, but since his room was on the top floor, no one heard. He'd used the last of his strength to try and save the bayou, so he couldn't even drag himself to a sitting position. He cried silent tears over the combined stress and terror caused by losing his last safe haven entirely and ended up passing out due to exhaustion.

Since the bayou was gone, so was the temperature control, and the room steadily plunged into freezing temperatures, hastened by a previously unknown draft from one of the windows. No one knew what happened until they went up to Alastor's room only for it to be colder than the rest of the hotel, and find the bayou gone and Alastor unconscious with frozen tear tracks on his face. They quickly brought him down to the lobby to be next to the fireplace, and the only reason he didn't lose his fingers to frostbite and his life to hypothermia was because of Lucifer's angelic magic. Technically he wouldn't have died permanently, but if he'd died, he either would have regenerated outside (which would lead to him freezing to death again and repeating the process indefinitely) or in the presence of some random sinner who might take a look at a disoriented Radio Demon and decide to make history by doing him in once and for all. Either way not good odds.

Needless to say, when he woke up, Alastor. Freaked. Out. I'm talking full mental breakdown, maybe a panic attack, maybe some frantic hair-tearing, maybe crying, I don't know. All I know is that it's bad. And who can blame him? As mentioned before, the bayou was his ONLY safe haven from his master's surveillance and now he was completely vulnerable to her watchful gaze. There was no where in Hell he could escape her besides his bayou, but he can't tell any of them that, even if he wanted to. Not only that, but he's pretty much completely defenseless. He's too weak to use his magic and all he has left at his defense are his teeth and claws, which means he now has to rely on the others for shelter, heat, and defense. This of course only makes his stress shoot up exponentially and everyone starts getting super concerned, but he straight-up can't tell them why he's so paranoid. Completely awful all around.

that's all I have for now, hope you enjoyed this word vomit. My computer powered off halfway through and deleted all of it and I wanted to cry, but it's done now lol

If you asked Alastor, he'd say he was fine. That was the easiest answer. The answer that kept others from worrying about him. That didn't make it the truth.

The truth was he'd been broken for a long time, and an eroded pillar could only stand for so long without inevitably collapsing.

OR

I was watching tiktoks and saw one (1) edit with the song "Forwards Beckon Rebound" and this idea immediately put a gun to my head and forced me to write it at 2 AM with no planning. READ THE TAGS, HOLY SHIT. This is the darkest shit I've ever written, I'm not playing

The Softest Love

Lucifer can't help but fall in love with making Alastor fall apart, and Alastor can't help but love it just as much.

OR

QPR Radioapple tickle fic, if you don't like, just keep scrolling babes

Just to be clear, there is NO sex in this and nothing alluding to it, Al's just shirtless lol

I was inspired by @greykolla-art to write even more angst! Yay, don't you just love pain? This is inspired by one of their awesome comics (the link is in the fic notes)

Animated Halt O'Carrick Concept

look, I know it's late, but I just finished watching this movie (again), and you CANNOT convince me that I'm the only one who's thought this. Tell me I'm wrong, if Halt were to ever be animated (with a better haircut) he would look EXACTLY like this:

Ballister, my beloved, this man is just Halt in another timeline. I mean come on. Any scene where he's hugging younger Will? Bam:

Halt and Crowley being gay? Boom, feast your eyes:

AND

And of course:

And obviously, you can't forget the ever allusive Halt Smile:

I swear, I'm so emo for this thought that now refuses to leave my head. I thought about this the first time I watched the movie, and I'm still thinking it. I refuse to picture Halt any other way now, and no one can stop me. If you're on the train, you better be fucking COMMITTED because we're going to the end of the tracks with this, baby

hello its me- haunting your dashboard and askbox once more haha-

i saw this somewhere else but I don't remember where; what would hell's version of winter be like? I remembered your headcanon about alastor getting cold easily and I would just like to share my vision.

so hell has an extreme climate- we know that- so winter is basically Antarctica. not alastor-friendly AT ALL, it only ever happens once in a blue moon in hell so he's never really had to deal with this before. the whump possibilities are endless lmao. all-around suffering for the deer man.

do with this what you will! no pressure ofc, this is more like a concept you could make your own story or au with so i'm not sure if it counts as an ask- but do whatever you wanna, and if you did ever do a fic, (if that be a series or a one-shot) I would love to make a comic or cover as a Collab! :D

PLEASE never apologize for haunting my dash/asks, this blog is very ghost-friendly!!!!! All ghosts are allowed to haunt as they please!!

As for your beautiful vision: I love it. I will help it grow and will nourish it until it becomes a beautiful whump monster right here on my little laptop. Not sure WHEN I will make it happen, but I WILL make it happen. For now though, I will simply add to this headcanon (expect whatever I add to probably end up in the fic lol)

Winter in Hell is quite the phenomena - only occurring around once every century or so. It doesn't stick to a set schedule though (Lucifer still shudders when he remembers that time that they had five winters within the span of a single decade.) They are also completely by surprise: the most notice Hell has ever had for a winter is that the temperature dropped five degrees in one day. The next morning, sinners couldn't even open their doors the snow was piled so high. And of course, it wouldn't be Hell if the winters were the normal length, no. Winters in Hell can be anything from six months to the record of three motherfucking years. The last winter took place in the late 1910s - about a decade or so before Alastor died.

As mentioned in my previous headcanon, Alastor is a Louisiana boy. And Louisiana did not receive a SINGLE FUCKING INCH of snowfall the entire time Alastor was alive (trust me I CHECKED, that shit is WILD). That means a few things. 1.) Alastor has never seen snow in his now 120ish years of existing. 2.) Alastor has never felt anything below 50°F his entire existence. 3.) Alastor is painfully thin, which means his body has no way to preserve heat. And 4.) Alastor does not appear to have any clothing besides his three-piece suit that he wears all the time in Hell's usual blazing temperatures with seemingly no issue. Of course, this means that his suit would do nothing for him in Actual Cold Weather since he's so used to it.

With all of this knowledge, the only conclusion I can draw is that once winter actually hits, Alastor is royally FUCKED. Especially considering that a winter in Hell is compiled of all of the worst things about winter. The cold air is dry, and the wind is sharp and biting - in the way that leaves your face stinging and your hands and lips splitting. Somehow simultaneously, the snow can change between huge flakes and straight-up sleet, which if you've ever been in sleet, you know it sucks major ass.

If someone doesn't give Alastor a heated blanket He Will Die. Alastor makes the mistake of going outside exactly twice (because let's face it, I love him but this man is too prideful to accept that the weather will kill him after only one attempt - he's Just A Bit Dumb). Both times he has to be rescued by someone at the hotel after he almost fucking freezes to death like An Idiot, and he manages to also get hypothermia both times because he refuses to do anything in halves. After he also almost freezes to death in his room (which is how they find out there's a draft), he's not even allowed in there, and they move him to a guest room right next to Charlie and Vaggie's room that Lucifer added a fireplace to. He alternates between the kitchen (the oven is very warm and Food), his room (the fireplace is very warm and the bed is cozy), and the couch in the lobby (the fireplace is very warm and the couch is cozy and also Alastor is antisocially social).

He is cold. He is miserable. He is perpetually shaking like an old chihuahua. Some of the residents thought it was funny at first, but that quickly stopped after the first Almost Death. They have to watch him because Alastor becomes very despondent, and if he stops shivering, he needs to be warmed up again. Alastor is more exhausted during the winter then he has ever been in his entire existence due to all the energy his body is burning trying to stay warm. He's sleeping more than ever, but he looks absolutely terrible - eyebags so dark they look like a goth guy's eyeshadow, hair a mess, and an overall very strained look about him. He also eats a lot less, so he begins losing weight which is the exact opposite of helpful in this situation. It gets to the point where Husk is willingly braving the elements to get to the butcher shop Alastor likes just to get sinner meat so he will hopefully get something in him.

This winter is the first time any of them have ever seen him willingly snuggle up to someone, and it's fucking LUCIFER because this little bastard puts out the most heat because for some reason that it part of being a seraphim. Lucifer for his part just kinda lets it slide because Alastor would probably die if he didn't and that would make Charlie sad. Ok, and he kinda reminds Lucifer of when Charlie was little and would snuggle up to him, but that's no one's business but his own. If he's a little softer with Alastor afterwards, and less easily provoked by the sinner, that is also no one's business but his own.

hooo, I really let this one get away from me lol. Hope you enjoy this, and please feel free to haunt me as much as you want!! And when I eventually get this pushed out, it would be absolutely fantastic if you decided to make a comic/cover. I absolutely love your art

Yess, this is perfect!!!

Charlie just starts treating the massager like it's a spray bottle and Alastor is a particularly devious cat lol. Someone will bring it out, and he'll instantly start staring at them nervously. The second they get close to him he'll try to make a run for it with varying levels of success. If they can get the massager to make that first pass over his scalp, he's done for because he can't conjure up enough concentration to use his shadow magic and get away. As mentioned before, he also has a tendency to just freeze in place and let it happen, literally the only thing he can do is laugh and either hope they have mercy or give in to their demands (which are never as bad as he pretends they are, he's just dramatic)

Angel Dust LOVES to fluster Alastor with the scalp massager, it gets him stronger reactions then sex jokes ever did while having the added benefit of not having even the slightest relation to his work. He and Alastor will be in the same room by themselves, and Angel will just pull one out of nowhere just to watch Alastor blush bright red and panic, flustered out of his mind. If they're in a room with other people, Angel will pull the same shit and watch Alastor try (and fail) not to react because he's around other people and he doesn't want them to find out about his weakness (even though they all clearly know, he is painfully obvious about it). His smile will get all wobbly and he'll try to focus intently on whatever he was doing, but can't stop himself from sneaking glances at Angel and letting out frazzled little squeaks every time. Everyone else thinks it's hilarious and unfairly adorable

Some Lee!Alastor Headcanons to Fuel My Brain

The lee!alastor tag has been painfully empty for the last few days, so I've decided to contribute a few headcanons of mine for you all to see and consider as you wish. Feel free to add on to this post with headcanons/rants/fics/whatever of your own if you want, I was just personally experiencing withdrawal symptoms and needed to fuel my addiction lol

(These are tickle headcanons for those unfamiliar with the terminology. If that isn't your thing, just scroll right on by)

First thing's first. Something I think everyone is sleeping on? Scalp massagers. Specifically the wire ones. I personally think those things are ticklish as fuck, and I'm far from the only one. The majority of us have come to the agreement that Alastor's ears are also ticklish as fuck. Just take a moment with me and imagine the potential:

Someone (probably Angel, or Lucifer) gets a scalp massager and is going around trying it on other hotel residents when they aren't paying attention. It's just for fun, and they're getting the typical reactions (jumping away, super startled, or just completely Unphased). Then, they manage to catch Alastor by surprise and do it to him, but instead of the typical reaction, Alastor startles before bursting out into staticky giggles. Alastor has no clue WHY it tickles so much, but it does, and he's practically paralyzed in a weird half-curled position as whoever has the massager just keeps running it over is head over and over. He can't try to escape, he can only giggle and babble out nonsense words, especially when the ends rub up against his ears which only makes it MORE ticklish, which he didn't think was possible. After the other demon shows mercy (and somehow isn't immediately slaughtered) Alastor develops a healthy fear of the massager, and grows incredibly anxious with anticipation and adorably flustered any time someone brings one out

Speaking of massagers brings me to my second headcanon. This man CANNOT get a massage or he will absolutely die. People who are tense can be more ticklish as a result, and since Alastor is already incredibly ticklish, having tense muscles makes this 100x worse. I have really tense shoulders, and any massage there immediately makes me hysterical, and I imagine Alastor would be the same. If he was comfortable enough to do so, he would be the kind of person to absolutely die if he were to get a full-body massage because it would tickle so damn much - even through the pain that comes with massages. Rosie likes to pretend to massage his shoulders and neck just so she can tell him to stop squirming and giggling so much because she's trying to help him

Another quick headcanon. I like to imagine that he's mostly covered in fur, and while it isn't terribly long in most places, it can still get tangled after a shower, or after being smothered by his clothes all day, so he has to brush it regularly. This is an absolute nightmare for him. Even when he's brushing his own fur, he has to stop every few seconds because he starts laughing too much in certain areas, like over his sides or belly for example. No matter how often he does it, he never gets used to the feeling, and it only gets worse if someone else (usually Rosie) does it for him. At least if he does it himself, he can stop once he starts laughing. It makes it take a long time, but it's less flustering. If Rosie (or Satan forbid someone else for whatever reason) brushes his fur, she usually tries to get a much done at once as she can, so she usually keeps going until he's begging for a break. Also, she thinks it's absolutely adorable, so she'll keep brushing areas that make him squeal long after all the tangles have been removed

Last one for now is that he can feel the static from people's phones. If he's close to someone when their phone rings, he can usually feel the static of it crawling teasingly over his skin. It usually isn't a big deal, but if someone is being bombarded by calls that they keep ignoring (let's say Valentino obsessively calling Angel Dust), the static quickly becomes overwhelming and he'll beg the person to answer their phone or turn it off, if straight up bashing it against the nearest wall isn't an option. It doesn't tickle a particular area, more of an all-encompassing tickle over his entire body. If he gets to the point of begging them to answer, it's usually because he can't hold his laughter and squirming anymore and is trying not to make a fool of himself. He feigns annoyance so people don't find out the real reason he wants the calls to stop. The secret comes out when Angel absolutely refused to answer Valentino one day, but didn't want to turn off his phone because he was in the middle of doing something on it, and Alastor finally broke and curled up where he sat, giggling hysterically and begging Angel to turn his phone off

That's all I have for now, I hope you enjoyed these headcanons. If you decide you like them enough to incorporate them into anything you write/draw, tag me!!! I'd move to see it. Also, as mentioned earlier, feel free to add onto this as you wish, I'd love to see how you all make these headcanons your own

Crowley, in a hospital: Halt, what's my blood type?

Halt: A Positive

Crowley: Well, I guessed wrong - call a doctor

hi!! I read a fic recently that has your name scribbled all over it, its called "For The Good Times" by Scenefox2003, its a radiosilence fic and it emotionally destroyed me-- so I thought it would be right up your alley!

I looked it up and just started chapter 3, so don't spoil anything for me yet lol. I like how it's going so far, thanks for the rec!! You know me so well😭

This is a platonic SFW tickle fic, and if that isn't your cup of tea, kindly keep scrolling.

TW: it does get kind of intense but that's because Alastor is an idiot (lovingly) who doesn't know how to shut tf up, and Lucifer is a petty bastard who has been banned from completely disintegrating this deer twink.