Old Guard Microfic #3

I'm only thinking this bc I just literally did this for my cats, but radioapple fic where Alastor is NOT a morning person.

Like even remotely. At all. (He stays up late for his radio broadcasts - you think he's out of bed before 10am unless he HAS to be? No.)

However. He's also the one who makes everyone their breakfast because he's the only competent chef at the hotel. (There's a reason before he showed up all Angel Dust ate was popsicles, Charlie is sweet but her attempts to cook could be considered lethal.)

So he drags his ass downstairs at like 6am to make everyone breakfast (and then utilizes his fire/shadows to keep the food warm for everyone to eat whenever they get up.) And then once he's done he goes back to bed for a few hours before eating his OWN breakfast. (A nice, tasteful raw venison, instead.)

But he absolutely doesn't bother getting even remotely dressed or even brushing his hair. Just big poofy and sleep mussed hair, rumpled pajamas, and he's yawning every few minutes. This man is half awake and is working on instinct at this point.

Lucifer had absolutely no idea about this until one day his insomnia gets the better of him, and he's also awake at 6am, and he hears someone in the kitchen, so he decides to explore.

And he doesn't even know how to react to soft fluffy Alastor calmly making everyone breakfast, seeing his cute little deer tail just casually out, his hair not even brushed, and wearing significantly less layers than normal.

(and if you really want to give him a heart attack, make Alastor not sleep in long full pajamas but instead just shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder - make Lucifer come to terms with his long ass deer legs, his cute little hoofies, AND his collarbones. All at 6am.)

But to top it all off, Alastor is just too tired and half-asleep to even react to Lucifer showing up. All Alastor does is ask if he wants anything different for breakfast, coffee, or something. And Lucifer is too confused to do anything other than agree, and he's not sure how to handle the dude who, the day before, was at his throat calmly handing him a plate of breakfast and a coffee. What.

And then Alastor, in between yawns, is like I'm going back to bed. And just leaves.

"You're not eating any of this????!" - "Hah! No."

Lucifer is suspicious, so he discreetly follows Alastor back to his room, only to see him faceplant into his bed and fall back asleep. (That's kind of cute. Wait, what? No, it's not!)

(When he re-emerges at 11am, he's just as much of an asshole to Lucifer as he was the day before. 6am Alastor and 11am Alastor are two different people.)

Lucifer may decide to become a morning person just to keep seeing this version of Alastor. Who knows.

‘Eat at a local restaurant tonight. Get the cream sauce. Have a cold pint at 4 o'clock in a mostly empty bar. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Listen to someone you think may have nothing in common with you. Order the steak rare. Eat an oyster. Have a negroni. Have two. Be open to a world where you may not understand or agree with the person next to you, but have a drink with them anyways. Eat slowly. Tip your server. Check in on your friends. Check in on yourself. Enjoy the ride.“

— Anthony Bourdain

Miss ya Tony.

Jason Todd Fic Recs That You Have Probably Have Not Read Before [Part 1]

just some fics! enjoy! :D

We’re not in crime alley anymore by Chimaera-Hero

When Bruce returned to the car that night, it was a nine-year-old holding the tire iron, not a young teen. Somehow, Jason Todd at nine was even more precocious than Jason Todd at 12. Bruce has his work cut out for him.

something to mend by butterflysky

When someone sits across from Jason, he hardly notices he’s so absorbed in the pages before him. But he notices when a hand reaches for the sugar next to him, and then he looks up, and he’s so shocked he can’t think of a single thing to say.

“Jason,” Bruce says evenly. Jason just stares.

(Or: Bruce and Jason attempt to mend their relationship in the immediate aftermath of Under the Red Hood, one meeting at a time.)

Jason Todd is not your Big Brother by starknjarvis

Jason isn't part of the Wayne family. No one told his siblings that.

Grave Danger by starknjarvis

Jason wakes up in a coffin. His comms are down, and he's surrounded by dark and silence.

...The comms are not down for Batman. He can hear every scream.

Homecoming by Ionaperidot

Your son’s grave. It’s been disturbed.”

In which people actually notice when Jason breaks out of his grave, and Bruce finds him before Talia does.

Reclaiming Innocence by MurtaghMonzanson (WIP)

Jason Todd was kidnapped at nine-years-old and given two options. Work for his keep, or be forced to to work for his keep.

His life was not pleasant, but Jason was nothing if not a fighter, and dammit if was he going to let the hell around him kill who he was as a person. Or his dreams of growing up and going to college.

Those dreams suddenly came a little more into focus, when his idiot of a pimp accidentally tried to rent him to Bruce Wayne. Poor bastard could have never guessed he was the Batman himself. Heck, not even Jason figured that out, at first. And Batman had practically adopted him.

Bird by Bird by laceymcbain

Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.

From the Alley by bluebein

Jason Todd stumbles upon something bizarre when looting for scraps one night, thus changing the course of several lives.

life if well lived by CaptainOzone

Jason wakes up from a time-travel mishap to find Thomas and Martha Wayne hovering over him.

Just another day in the life, right?

...Not quite.

The Most Important Thing by Ionaperidot

"He pulls off his stupid helmet, and then the domino mask beneath it.

Which is when Dick loses his grip on the support beams and falls, just barely escaping a broken ankle, and his dead baby brother points a gun at his head."

Jason is alive, and the only thing that matters is bringing him home.

Hide The Bullet by WorkingChemistry

Jason’s lost his teammates, shot the Penguin, and lost his family. He’s got nothing left. He didn’t ask to be brought back; he was happier when he was dead. There’s only one way to fix everything.

Tim and Dick disagree.

Not All Kidnappings Are Bad by Cdelphiki

While out on patrol one night, Bruce encounters a kidnapping attempt. A pretty routine night, unfortunately.

When the victim in question happens to be a 9-year-old Jason Todd, however, Bruce finds himself getting a little too attached to a child he just met. Was it okay to kidnap a child right off the street and keep him?

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris

Jason Todd has been a prisoner of the Joker for nine months. Then, against all odds and all hope, Batman rescues Jason and brings him back to Wayne Manor to recover. But has Batman come too late to save what is left of Jason? (AU of the Arkham Knight video game)

Can't stop thinking about the line "you treat your mouth as if its heavans gate" to describe someone who heavily regulates what comes and goes from their body whether that be in the form of strictly following a healthy diet or refraining from profanity and speaking in ways that may be deemed sinful

"Most women marry men like their fathers. This is the real reason mothers cry at weddings."

- the description for a fucking ohshc fanfic???????

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 1: Bruce)

<<Masterlist   |    Part 2: Dick’s Slideshow>>

Bruce: I’ll go first, I need you all to pay attention to this.

[collective groan]

Bruce: I want to refresh you all on some rules that some of you seem to have forgotten about recently.

Jason: I wouldn’t have come to this if I knew it was just a briefing on the Bat-rulebook.

Damian: It’s about time you hooligans faced the consequences of ignoring Father’s rules.

Keep reading

Hazbin Hotel's concept of Hell is a set-up for so many funny reunions. Like, Alastor was a radio show host, so his voice has to be pretty recognizable. Imagine one fine morning getting run over by a car and simultaneously learning that 1) Hell is real 2) your good-natured charming buddy Alastor from the radio station who went missing 5 years ago is absolutely wiping the floor with the majority of Hell's population and gleefully so.

The Brightest Start in the Constellation of Leo

There is none such story as tragic and sad as that of Regulus Black.

He was a small boy born into the house of hateful, supremacist, parents. His house was filled with cursed objects, scarily dark books, weapons, and in one case, vials of blood. His parents were most likely abusive or at least snide, cold, angry, hateful, and distant. I mean look at Walburga’s portrait.

(based off of the Malfoys, does anyone remember how Lucius would swing his cane at Draco? Mostly his hand, but still!!! That thing had sharp teeth!!! And Draco tended to avoid it with a little too much practice and ease...So who’s to say the Blacks weren’t similar or worse?)

He had a singular person in that house who really cared about him, and that was taken from him when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and they started a hateful feud.

He was then pressured into becoming the perfect pureblood heir because their first choice was a Gryffindor, a disgrace, and a blood traitor to boot. 

They swayed him to the Dark Arts and Voldemort, he was made a Death Eater. Being a Black means you are technically pureblooded royalty and in direct eye of Lord Voldemort himself. We’re not sure when he became a Death Eater but it can be hazarded a guess around 16/17. By 18 years old, barely a year put of Hogwarts he had probably tortured, killed and been robbed completely of his innocence (if he ever had any in that wretched house). 

At this point he is estranged from his brother, said brother is fighting on the other side and they’ve probably fought against each other, has one cousin who has been disowned because she loved a ‘mudblood’, another cousin who is married to a death eater, yet another cousin who is an insane maniac who gets off on torture, is being pressured by his parents who then die, entrenched in a war while being barely an adult himself, is most likely fighting and killing former classmates and teachers, and second guessing everything hes ever been told by his family.

So the Dark Lord asks for an elf.

He, as the Black heir, is expected to step up. So he does, no matter how much it pains him. Even though Kreacher is currently the only family he has that cares about him and vice versa, he gives him up. So in secret he orders him to come back as he does not want him to die. Kreacher goes and carries out the task of drinking the potion for the Dark Lord and returns home, obviously having been tortured and on the brink of death. Once Regulus has fixed him up he reports everything to him, who then figures out the locket is a Horcrux.

He knows it must be destroyed, he knows he will most likely die.

Can you imagine? 18 years old, not even a year after he’s graduated, and he willingly walks to his death. Can you imagine him sitting down and writing that letter for the locket with shaky hands and tears streaming down his face? He’s scared. Of course he’s scared! He’s a child! Just eighteen! He is eighteen years old and he marches out of that dark house with his loyal elf and gets Kreacher to take him. He appears on a rock out in a stormy, wild sea. Cold, salty spray rips into his skin and he dives into the chilling water. He shakily sails out to the little island and peers into the basin.

Its a glowing green potion that gives off a malevolent energy. He knows what it is. He saw what it did to Kreacher, he heard the description. He found it in the back of the Black Family Library: The Drink of despair. 

It was a torture potion. He knew this. He knew it was like being crucioed from the inside out, that it made you unbearably thirsty, that it made you see the most terrible things....

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die.

He knew Kreacher could survive it and get home safely where he could fix him up. He knew this. But he couldn’t bear to put poor Kreacher through that again. 

So he drank it himself and condemned himself to Death instead.

For a House Elf.

He died so his House Elf wouldn’t be in pain.

So 18 year old Regulus Black drinks a torture potion. Willingly. To protect his House Elf. In the middle of a lake filled with zombie Inferi. Miles from any living being. To steal an object belonging to the Darkest Wizard in history. 

He wasn’t even sure if it could be destroyed but he drank it. And got so thirsty he drank from the lake. The Inferi swarm him, clawing at his skin, pulling at his hair, ripping his clothes... He desperately orders Kreacher to switch the lockets, destroy the real one, and leave as he gets dragged under.

Regulus Arcturus Black dies at the age of eighteen, all alone, at the bottom of a lake of inferi, with no one but an old, bitter House Elf to remember what he had done. He didn't do it for the glory or the recognition of the masses, nor for the forgiveness of his brother. He tells no one and dies disgraced. Disgraced by his brother for being a Death eater. Disgraced by his Family for turning his back on the Dark. Disgraced by the Death eaters and Voldemort for ‘fleeing’ or ‘leaving the cause’ or whatever excuse they cooked up.

Regulus Black didn’t want to die. He could’ve saved himself and lived. But he didn’t to spare his friend the pain. He died so his House Elf didn’t have to hurt.

Brightest Star Indeed...

Just watched Dead Poets Society. I sobbed really hard and now need to hydrate. Such a beautiful ending and the interspersed quotes.....I need the mantra from the society tattooed on my face.

Pics from my Twitter, continuation of the 'invitation for a fun night' pics 🙂🙃

I will not upload much here of this 'comic' for obvious reasons 😆