#Beta Chapter

[gamma-xi-delta]

SORORITY RECRUITMENT VLOG 🎀 rush week at the University of Michigan | Gamma Phi Beta

Published by Charlotte Pratt

[newttxt]

sanji’s big “this might as well happen” moment 😅

from ch 5 of utilities included

masterpost

[north-noire]

When the Marionette finds itself awake in a workshop room, she soon comes to a realization there was more going on to what had happened to the child she was assigned to protect.

Hidden Hands Chapter 6 is out! AO3 Fic Link Here Previous Chapter Beginning Chapter

Hey, I would appreciate it if you reblog this post! I try my hardest for this AU fic, so reblogging it and being able to share it goes a long way!

[thegnomelord]

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 7/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man—Charles, Max assumes—sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[acid-ixx]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTN8X9hLh/

This is so neglected [reader] coded I cried when I found this audio after reading your fic 😭😭

AAAAHH !!! this hurts so much especially since i'm writing about chapter two and chapter three is basically the audio in a nutshell 😭 like omg take all of the reader's pain and give it to the joker istfg!! i'm literally dreading when i have to write for a breakdown scene in chapter three but chapter two is already draining me of my energy, i had to actually take a break and walk outside just to replenish myself ehe

istg i wish i knew how to animate so i could draw the reader literally screaming at their family with this audio but alas, the world has to nerf me or i'd be too powerful 💔

[yukipri]

I finally got a beta for my fic!! May I introduce: Sabo!

For his first time editing, he deleted my entire chapter and instead wrote:

Wow, he can type with his ass. Skills.

April Fool's (but he really did type that)

Cats tag: #YukiPriASLKittens

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Thirteen ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Thirteen Warnings: profanity Click on the first tag to see all the other chapters

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter Thirteen]

♱♱♱

One month had passed. Your decision was approaching, faster than you had thought it would. What would you say?

You still didn’t know.

“I’ll be back from the extermination,” Adam said smugly, Lute crossing her arms behind him. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Decided yet?”

“Yes,” you lied through your teeth.

“Not coming this year?” Lute smirked, unaware of your and Adam’s whispered conversation going on in front of her. Adam’s eyes slid to you, then he rolled them, making you scowl.

“No,” you said flatly. Adam’s eyes hardened.

“We’re gonna go after Lucifer’s brat’s shitty hotel first,” he sneered. “Shame you can’t be there to watch it.”

“Shame,” you replied, heart pounding against your ribcage.

You watched them disappear down the portal to Hell, along with another rush of the exterminators, eager for bloodshed, before the portal closed up completely.

You rubbed your eyes.

“Keep Charlie safe,” you muttered, as if it was a prayer, except one in a god you were slowly losing faith in.

♱♱♱

Adam was dead.

It had been almost a week since they had left for the extermination. Everyone was in such a flurry, a mess, that no one bothered to pay any attention to you or answer your questions. Sure, you were the great [name], but you were just another angel when it came to status.

Sera was stressed. Emily was in shock. You were in shock. And the last time you had seen Lute was the last time you had seen Adam.

What seemed to scare everyone to their core, however, wasn’t just Adam’s death: it was the fact that angels could die. You remembered Avery, and her missing friend. No doubt the girl was dead. You fiddled with your bracelet, before ripping it off and tossing it onto the table.

You hadn’t heard from Lucifer, either.

The front door creaked open, spilling pale light into your dim living room. You shot up as Lute entered.

“Lute, God, you’re okay,” you breathed, your concern for her shocking the both of you. Your eyes fell to her shoulder, and your heart leapt into your throat. “Where’s your arm?”

She stared at you, and you could have swore her eyes were glowing with barely restrained fury. You took her by the shoulder and steered her into the room, sitting her down where you were before.

“Do you need anything?”

She stared at you, and you wondered if she was ever going to speak. And then, finally, she did.

“Water.”

“On it,” you said, rushing to the kitchen for a glass.

You thrust it towards her, a few droplets spilling over the edge and rolling down the glass. She took it with her remaining hand. You sat next to her.

“Tell me everything.”

She downed the water, but her voice was still raspy. You couldn’t place the aura that surrounded her, but you could see the anger in her tensed muscles, her furrowed brow. “Adam’s dead,” she muttered, setting the glass down. “We were fucking winning, then Lucifer showed up and…” she rubbed her eyes, albeit aggressively. You noticed them glistening with unshed tears. “That stupid child, demon, thing- stabbed the shit out of him.” She looked away again, as if to hide her grief from you. You rubbed her back soothingly, and she tensed up, turning back to look up at you.

“If you ever need to talk,” you murmured. “I’m here.”

She sighed, doubling over. You decided to prompt her to speak with another question.

“What happened to your arm?” You pressed gently. Her lip curled.

“That bitch Vagina-“

“Huh?”

“Vaggie,” she seethed. She buried her head in her hand, shoulders shaking. You pressed your arm against hers, trying to offer her as much comfort as possible. She wouldn’t elaborate on the single name she had mentioned, and you wondered if Vaggie had cut her arm off.

“Adam told me something,” Lute said abruptly. “Before he died.” She looked at you, and you could feel your heart rate picking up, beating so hard it was painful. You stopped yourself from pulling away in case it would seem suspicous.

“What did he say?” You asked gently, doing your best to keep the tremor out of your voice. She shook her head soundlessly. “That’s fine. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

A few more minutes of sitting in comfortable silence before she had stood up, mumbling that she had to go. You showed her outside, before hugging her fiercely while still being mindful of her arm.

She’d left and you went back inside, staring out the window and watching her fly away into the sky. Your stomach churned.

You looked down at your clenched fists. He was dead. Lute’s affirmation had let it sink in for you properly now. You felt sick and relieved at the same time.

Because your secret died with him.

You stumbled to the bathroom. You were going to throw up- again, and you did, all into the toilet. You flushed it, slumping down onto the bathroom floor and breathing heavily. Adam was dead. You didn’t have to marry him. You didn’t have to choose. No one in the world knew anymore- except you, and Lucifer. You stood up with trembling legs, scraping yourself together and steadying yourself on the sink, staring at your reflection. Your face had gone pale.

He was dead. He was really dead.

He wouldn’t barge into your house without knocking like he used to, anymore. He wouldn’t scream your name down the street. He wouldn’t laugh the raucous way he did, that you had gotten so used to. You stifled any regretful feelings, pushing them down, not allowing yourself to cry. He was an asshole to you. It was for the best.

You went to the living room, and your eyes fell on Lute’s half-empty glass. You suddenly remembered the bracelet, the one you had tossed onto the table where the glass now sat, your link between you and Lucifer. Your eyes skimmed across the table to the spot you had last left it, and…

It wasn’t there.

♱♱♱

A/N: second chapter of the double release! Damn exams are killing me. Njoyy (Coco if ur reading this. I made the cliffhanger bcuz ur such a nosey bitch 😡😡)

hey guys I thought I posted this but turned out that I didn’t and it was just sitting in my drafts like an abandoned child

[l1zardart1stre]

deltaswap spamton<>queen designs based on their old designs

the Noelle isn't supposed to be a focal member of the peice, Its an old design I made that I'll use for deltaswap related peices as a size comparison the same way I use kris' sprite for it in non deltaswap peices

also, this isn't canon to Rudespawn probably

[ohno-the-sun]

Newest Luca au chapter is out early.

It’s a bit info dumpy so I apologize for that

[casuallyanidiot]

The Beta Test | Chapter 1

[yandere M x Gn Reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

2.1 k words Tw. Swearing, kidnapping, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of drugging, yandere behavior Prologue Table of contents

West Grove University wasn’t a super large school. It was important to mention this because, as it would happen, you were very well known there. It wasn’t a hard feat to reach, mind you, but still, there were few people who hadn’t heard of you. This was of course because of the fact that you would appear at every single social function that you could.

 Frat parties, fundraisers, birthdays, even baby showers: if you were invited, you were going. Since you were everywhere, it was only natural that you knew people too. In fact, you knew exactly who the man sitting in front of you was at a glance.

 “ Oh you’re from my economics lecture,” you said tiredly. When the words left your lips, he looked to be almost as confused as you were. 

 “ You know me ?” he asked in disbelief and leaned forward. His chair squealed under his weight and you groaned. 

‘My brain is fried,’ you thought with a grimace. You waved at him lazily. 

“ Yeah, you’re Javier, right? Kinda hard not to know you,” you croaked out. Man, your vocal cords felt like they were grating against each other like sandpaper or, like, unspooled yarn. It was a sore reminder that however you had ended up here, it had certainly not been your choice in the slightest. You began shifting around, massaging at your sore and unused muscles. Like you had noticed before, there wasn’t anything in the cell in which you sat. The cold hard floor was biting into your ass, and it did very little to stop you from aching.

It only took a glance to know that he was surprised by your admission, though it was true. Once again, your class size was kinda small compared to some other schools, and that meant that anyone worthy of note was destined to be infamous. While you were talked about due to your outgoing behavior, Javier over here was known for the exact opposite. 

He was a young man of little words, barely heard even speaking to professors after lectures in a hushed tone. He was elusive too. You even had a class with him, yet you could count the number of times he had appeared through the year on one hand. Despite the fact that he was never present, the boy still managed to maintain high-ranking scores with ease. It was pretty impressive actually. Though what made him stand out to you, in particular, were two facts.

One: Javier was so fucking gloomy. Any time he walked into a room, whether that be in a lecture hall or simply passing by in the library, you swear a cloud of darkness followed him in. His posture was always slouched, and bags hung under his eyes like he'd never had a wink of sleep in his entire life. While his clothes, which always seemed to be a pair of black sweats and a white T-shirt, were always clean, his long shoulder-length hair constantly rode the line of looking either greasy or sleek; you could never really decide if it was either of the two.

Two: Javier was, apparently, pretty rich. While he never showed up to lectures, he did go to the secluded and quiet area of the library that you also liked to kick around in. He usually floated over to sit behind a bookshelf in a corner, probably where he thought no one could see him, right in your line of vision. Granted you could only see him because the bookshelf itself wasn't actually packed with, ya know, books, so it was easy to catch a glimpse of him. The dude had the whole fucking apple ecosystem in his bag. Not to mention the luxury brand stationery that he used casually. In fact, everything on him from his slides to the backpack he used was waaaay beyond what the average uni student should be spending, and so casual too. 

Of course you were insanely curious about the quiet, mysterious, and rather wealthy kid that nobody knew anything about! It was only natural. Some people even claimed to have seen him getting into his car which he parked in a secluded area. To no surprise, you were shown multiple photos of him getting into a foreign car with nice rims and everything. 

"Who the fuck is this guy?" They would slur to you drunkenly at whatever party you were at. The phone in their hand would be glowing with whatever blurry pic they had taken, and you would squint at it and shrug.

"No idea."

The little bits of info you got were nothing, but now it seemed like that was going to change. You were going to know Javier Galvan because you had this, I dunno, sneaking suspicion that you had definitely been kidnapped by him.

" R-really?" He blinked at you rapidly with his dark eyes, a finger jabbed at his own chest. You winced and nodded. " Wow, I uh, I didn't think you would. I thought that… I thought that I was going to have to uh introduce myself and stuff…" he trailed off. There was a nervous smile quirked up on his lips, and he shifted his gaze to the side like it was physically impossible to actually look at your curled-up body on the floor. You squinted at him with an eyebrow raised. No fucking way. There was no way that this guy was actually embarrassed by the fact that he had abducted you.

" Well, that's good then. One step further than I had planned I guess," he said, kind of quietly too, and sheepishly rubbed his neck. 

" Yeaaaah right. Do you like… mind telling me what's happening right now?" You asked. There was no use putting it off. You weren't one for mind games either, so it was best to just rip the band aid off so to speak.

Once again, Javier looked stunned by anything you said. Not sure why he was so surprised. You were never the most silent person in the room by any means. He should at least know that much about you. He stayed quiet, and now that you were started to get over the initial spike of fear and confusion, annoyance was fully taking its hold. You gestured, a bit aggressively, at the bars separating the cold cell from the actual room.

" Ohhhhh, Sorry. My bad. You're, uh, probably really confused right now, huh?" He laughed a little. This little shit. He kidnapped you, and he was fucking giggling?

" Uhhhh yeah. That's one way you could take it," you said dryly. The sarcasm in your voice was enough to remind you of the fact that you were very dehydrated at this time. His smile immediately dropped instantly, and you rolled your eyes at his kicked puppy demeanor. If you had known that he was this weird, then you wouldn't have wasted so much of your energy wondering about him.

" O-okay. So, um, you are [Name] [Last name], right?" It took everything in your system to not do a visible double take at that.

" Um Yes?"

He let out a large sigh, posture slumping with relief. " Oh okay. That's good. Good. It would be, haha, like really bad if you weren't," he said while wiping his face. His sweaty palms could probably be seen from space. 

" We have classes together man. I like see you in the library almost everyday."

" Oh, uh, yeah that's right. You're right, sorry."

You pursed your lips as he went on fumbling and fidgeting with his hands. Gloomy and socially awkward. What a combo. 

" Uh so now that we've been introduced, um, I guess I should tell you why I brought you here haha," he said and finally stood up from his chair. He was pretty tall, and loomed over your huddled up self with ease. He was lanky, like a pole, and you shuddered. 

It was easy to forget in your addled brain that you were, in fact, in a very dangerous situation. When hunched in on himself, Javier didn't feel that threatening at all, but now it was clear that this could potentially be very nasty. Had he taken you for revenge of some kind? Did he somehow read your mind over the course of months and dislike the odd light you held him in? Or was it for something dumb like you badmouthing a friend of his? Who knows. If he was rich enough to have a ( pretty nicely decorated) room with a cell in it, then who knows what other crazy shit could be stirring in his head.

" Okay so… I know that you're friends with a lot of people. And um, everybody seems to like you even though you're kinda annoying," He started. Ouch. Coming from him that was not a good assessment of your character.

Still, he looked down at you expectantly after a few moments of silence. You blinked and waved for him to continue. He smiled ,like he'd been cheered on in race, and took a deep breath. 

" So if people think you're cool and like you, then it means that you're doing something right that I'm not." He placed his hands on the bars. They were so tightly gripped that you could see the paleness form on his brown skin. 

" I'll put this bluntly. You're good with people. I don't really get why, but you are, and I'm not. So I need you to help me out," he said. His tone was more serious than before, and the look of his face was anything but rational. In fact he looked void of any emotion.

" Let me guess... I don't really have a choice in this, do I?" You stated, eyes narrowed up at him. The tension held between the two of you was now fully out. If you didn't have a headache before, you certainly would've gotten one by now.

" Well," he said while leaning back," You do... but it would be kind of dumb considering where you're at and all." He looked you up and down as his last words came dripping out of his lips. His almost meek demeanor was completely gone by now.

" So uh, yeah, I need your help. Umm, this is a little weird, but I want you to help me date the girl that I've been in love with all year," he sighed out. You didn't miss the dreamy and wistful stare he held as he glanced up into the ceiling. 

" Wait? That's it?" You asked. Was this guy fucking with you? Like a cruel prank or whatever?

" Unfortunately yes..." he groaned out. " I'm going to be honest with you [Last Name], I'm...Well I'm hopeless. I've tried out so many different things to make me more appealing to her, but nothing works!" 

" So forcing me to be your, what? Chad alpha dude coach? Was you're next best option?" You asked, eyes wide and with the most amount of sarcasm you could muster. He nodded sadly as a sinking realization, even bigger than being kidnapped, came upon you.

You were going to have to get this crazy, antisocial, creepy, and downright pathetic guy with the girl of his dreams? Yeah, this was way too far out for even you.

You sighed ," So, let me get this straight. You kidnapped me so you could talk to a girl better."

He nodded.

" And you did this because you couldn't do it yourself."

He nodded again, looking a bit more embarrassed this time.

" And you're probably not going to let me go until you start dating this girl, are you?"

He winced, and you felt even more annoyed than you thought was possible. Oh yeah cause HE had the right to be bashful here. He cleared his throat gently, refusing to stare in your direction.

" Yes, um, if you help me date this girl before the next school year, then I will let you go," he said. Hints of that serious and firm nature you had previously seen came bubbling up again. You could see the coldness behind his lashes a mile away. Yeah, this guy was not okay. 

" What happens if you don't? Get with her I mean."

It was a simple question, really. Still, his head shot up from its limp state as he looked at you unblinking. His dark hair pooled at his shoulders, and the dim lighting of the room hardly allowed for a full look at him. Still, you could feel the dead gaze, unyielding and terrifying.  You shrunk back in shock. 

" Well, let's hope that doesn't happen," he said simply before leaving the room. The thud of the door and the click of the lock was deafening, and you flinched away. 

In the corner of a cold cell in an unfamiliar room, you pressed your hands to your face as you came to the conclusion that you were completely and utterly fucked.

[gamma-xi-delta]

Clemson Pi Beta Phi Sisterhood Round Sorority Recruitment Video

Published by RUSHVIDS

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

part 16 - but I know where to start

“Feeling my way through the darkness, guided by a beating heart. I can’t tell where the journey will end, but I know where to start.” -Wake Me Up by Avicii

Regent Masterlist Part 15

Was it a cop-out to summon Jazz back to the Far Frozen? Yes. Did Danny particularly care? Nope! 

Jason was comfortable, propped up with a book Ghostwriter who had popped by to personally deliver. How the ghost had known about Jason Phantom wasn’t going to question, but he suspected GW kept an eye on the bookworms that passed through the Realms- or at least those close to the “Royal family”. Phantom wasn’t much for reading, not unless it was space-related, but he enjoyed listening to the Liminal man reading out loud. He had a brash voice, accented with a cadence like those from Crime Alley, but it only underscored the passion he held for reading. Phantom didn’t interrupt him once, not even when the halfa pulled out his ecto-phone and texted Ellie. 

(His little sister was in Kansas, spending time with another clone she’d literally run into.) 

Almost another full day's cycle passed before Phantom realized Jason had fallen back asleep, a book resting open on his broad chest and soft snores coming from the man. 

Yeah, he could see how he and Jazz fit together so well. 

There was just something about the Once-Revenant, a part of what made him Jason, that resonated with the Phantom. It’s what made him talk to the man as Red Hood, feel comfortable enough to stay in his company for so long, trust him with his older sister- the person who raised him. 

(Spent her birthday money to get him those cheap plastic glow-in-the-dark stars.) 

(Taught him how to read.) 

(Held him as the nightmares of his death shook him to his core.) 

(Did not fear him.) 

(Not as Phantom, Danny, or Dan.)

(Loves him.) 

(Mourns him.) 

(He would never tell her, but he understood how Dan could succumb to grief.)

(Jazz was his.) 

(His first friend, his true mother, his rock.) 

(She wouldn’t have claimed Regency without that tie.) 

Remix & Original chat 

Remix: Lol hows weenie Original:   jasons x3 ur size pipsqeak                    Remix:  ur point?  Original:  lol hes ok                                 frosty says he got hurt wth shrpnel                        new healed core + shrapnel = bad time Remix:  sucks 2 b him  Original:               so tru        Whre r u? Remix: omw 2 spain barcelona Original: ooh send pics if u need me call Remix: pics or nay gotcha txt u l8r luv u  Original: love u 2

Safely back in the living Realm and tucked away in Jason’s apartment, Jazz and Danny tried to investigate the bomb- unfortunately there was nothing for them to do but wait. 

On the upside, the Justice League was about to hit the UN full force with all the subtlety of a tsunami and who had front row seats to the drama? 

Yep, the Regent.  Jazz wasn’t exactly thrilled that her presence was requested, even though it was on the path to the desired outcome the Nightingale siblings had fought for, but both her soulmate boyfriend and little brother would be by her side as support. 

The Birds and the Bats Group Chat

Zombie: I lived bitch Spoiler-Alert: Jason!  Fly-Like-A-Dick: Little Wing!  Blood_Heir: Todd. Zombie: don’t sound too excited there demon brat.  Blood_Heir: Never.  Sleep_When_Im_Dead: Where have you been? Zombie: Stayed overnight at my Docs for observation.  Fly-Like-A-Dick: For three days? Blood_Heir: Fail to find that humorous Todd.  Zombie: wasn’t meant to be a joke brat.  I was actually at my Docs.  Zombie: Got a shovel talk from my girlfriends little brother too.                                     Spoiler-Alert:  Whoa GIRLFRIEND!!!! 😱 Jason!  Why is this the first were hearing this??? Fly-Like-A-Dick: Little Wing!!!!!! Quiet_Dancer: 🤗  Zombie:  At least Cass and Dickiebird are happy for me                                    Spoiler-Alert:  Ecstatic! But details! Now.                                                      Zombie: No.                                              Fly-Like-A-Dick: Is she a redhead??? Sleep_When_Im_Dead:  Jasmine Nightingale.                                                      Zombie: Babs.                                               Oracle_of_Gotham:  On it.  [member Sleep_When_Im_Dead has been blocked from the group.]  Spoiler-Alert:  too late!!!!!! Cass  with me! Quiet_Dancer: 🫡 Oracle_of_Gotham: DENIED Batdad:  Welcome back Jaylad.                                                        Zombie:                                           Old man       You and I need to have a talk with words                                              Fly-Like-A-Dick: battle stations everyone!!!

Council of Uncaged Birds

Queen_Regent: Ellie, I want you to meet Jason.  Officially meet him.  WanderingPrincess: eh??? temp said wasnt srs Queen_Regent: Danny No InfiniteStarPrince: Danny YES Frosty said they are  soulmates!!!!!! WanderingPrincess: 🤯😱 wha th fuck!!!1 Queen_Regent: language!  WanderingPrincess: ENGLISH imma get a shovel gotta undead weenie 2 bury.

Template. [user InfiniteStarPrince has left the chat]  WanderingPrincess: coward Queen_Regent: I have many regrets.  WanderingPrincess: u luv us 👻

Lady & Knight chat Lady: Jay remember when I told you I wanted you to meet Ellie?  Knight: She’s bringing a shovel isn’t she.  Lady: I love how brilliant you are.  Knight: I aim to please. 

Lady & Knight chat Knight: you patrolling tonight? Lady: wasnt planning on it Knight: wanna meet me? Lady: same time same place? Knight: you know it

The abolishment of the Anti-Ecto Acts officially happened at three pm on a dreary Gotham Tuesday. Jazz was cuddled with Jason on his couch, dozing off to his heartbeat as he read Pride and Prejudice for the thousandth time. The comfortable silence they had wrapped themselves in only occasionally broken by Jason turning a page was completely shattered when Jazz’s phone rang with the Ghostbusters theme song. 

“Danny?” Jazz answered surprised, “School isn’t out yet, what’s wrong?” She was greeted by Danny’s heaving cries as he replied. 

“Batman, he- he did it!” Danny sobbed, “He saved us.” 

It clicked then. The Dark Knight had completed the task he was entrusted with by a Spirit of Protection, the Once and Future Star King, and unknowingly kept the promise a ghost made to a young Jasmine Fenton. 

One day my son will stop this. All of this. You only need to be strong. Take care of yourself and your brother. I promise. 

She had waited years for the promise to be fulfilled, the sworn promise of the dead to a living child. Jasmine was a patient soul, but she had still been a child that night in Gotham. 

(The Drs. Fenton believing the stories about a ghostly vigilante patrolling the streets, a never aging child by their side.) (Dragging their children with them. ) (Hungry and cold.) (A dead man who swore his son would end their torment one day.)

(She should’ve known it wouldn’t come fast enough to save Danny.) 

How was she to know the ghost was speaking of the Realms inhabitants, not the abused and neglected children of Ghost Hunters? How was she to know that the hope such a promise kindled wasn’t hers to keep?  Jason wrapped his arms around her, the book set aside and her phone gently taken from her grasp to be put on speaker so they could both talk to her little brother. Danny had dissolved from heaving sobs to muffled hiccups, seemingly now that he’d shared the news with his sister. 

“He really did,” she muttered. “He really did it.” 

(The furry fucker actually did it.) (She’d known that he was going to try, but humans are stubborn creatures.)

A/N: Hi! Welcome to an update for the Regent. Just to be fully transparent with each of my readers - The Regent is still on Hiatus.

I have deleted so much of my writing because I don't like the flow/dialogue/pacing. Original ending thrown out and rewritten twice- still don't care for it. Who knew something other than Angst would be so difficult.

(Not me!)

Having said that, this entry is of course beta'd by the wonderful @meditating-cat who has put up with my random messages.

(You are amazing!)

(In all honesty, I wish I could just skip right to the ending because at least I know 100% I can get it just right....eventually.)

Thanks for reading and happy easter!

[north-noire]

As William drives out of state to seek help from the guilt that's been eating him up, meanwhile Michael struggles with going to school without a friend by his side.

Hidden Hands Chapter 5 is out! AO3 Fic Link Here Previous Chapter Beginning Chapter

Hey, I would appreciate it if you reblog this post! I try my hardest for this AU fic, so reblogging it and being able to share it goes a long way!

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Purgatory Paradise: 'Paradise'

[Read it here on AO3]

The first one-shot of “Purgatory Paradise”, the post-‘The Neon Void’ series has been posted!!

This series will be way more relaxed than TNV with no plot or posting schedule, but please enjoy the fluff!

[epitomereally]

Heavenstruck! by me ❤ (Harry/Draco, eventually ~80k)

One and a half years after the war, Draco Malfoy shows up to the Burrow for Christmas.

I am feeling so emo about finally publishing this wip—it's what I got back into writing to write & what a way to celebrate two whole years writing Harry/Draco. I truly am so grateful for this community and feeling so tender putting something a bit raw & a bit unfinished up.

As always, it takes a village. @mallstars and @queermccoy looked at an early draft of this over a year ago, and provided invaluable and gentle feedback about what needed to change—and they were fucking right & I deleted 30k of this monster, and it's immeasurably better for it. @sleepstxtic, @thecouchsofa, @hoko-onchi-writes, and @elskanellis betaed this fic so thoroughly and kindly, and it's tighter and cleaner and funnier and punchier for them! thank you thank you thank you to everyone who helped with this one.

.・。.・゜✭・a . snippet・✫・゜・。.

Harry thought about how fucking unfair it was that Malfoy—Malfoy, who stomped on his nose while he was petrified; Malfoy, who called Hermione a Mudblood and the Weasleys poor blood-traitors; Malfoy, who averted his gaze from Lucius and said, “I can’t be sure”—could get to have the warmth of Molly and Arthur.

Traitorously, Harry’s brain also interjected how awful Malfoy looked, how he didn’t have anyone else in the world right now. How awful Harry must have looked to Molly and Arthur and the rest of the Weasleys when they met him on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, or rescued him from his barred bedroom at the Dursleys. How fucking awful it would have been if Harry had been welcomed into their warmth, only to be thrown out again, back to starving, back to no one.