#like most Kets i figure ;)

[feykiller]

Back to my @shepherds-of-haven bullshit, this time I'm creating non-MC ocs 😉 this is Kian, a Ket underground ring fighter you meet sometime as you wonder around Haven, killing demons and whatnot. Say hi?

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)

WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)

A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”

Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking. 

“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!” 

Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.” 

“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.” 

Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.

Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders. 

Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”

It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.” 

He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.

Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment. 

“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people. 

“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.

Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.

Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands. 

Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance. 

And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him. 

He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing. 

“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

“What about me?” Az asked. 

“Any plans?” 

Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”

Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”

His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that. 

Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up. 

Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved. 

Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days. 

It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met. 

He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days. 

And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it. 

Azriel: how’s the bud?

But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him. 

Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his. 

You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints! 

And then, another.

You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?

Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?

You: would that be ok?

Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?

You: life saver <3 see u then!

He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth. 

//

His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from. 

He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue. 

Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos. 

Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink. 

You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.

And Azriel noticed everything. 

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?” 

Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.” 

Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did. 

He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats. 

You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms. 

“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”

Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed. 

Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”

Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off. 

He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 

His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again. 

You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”

His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed. 

“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further. 

“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?” 

Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”

He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it. 

Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants. 

Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony. 

With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself. 

He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate. 

As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free. 

The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself. 

And all he could think about was you. 

Your eyes, your lips, your voice.

He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat. 

Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat. 

His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like. 

As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly. 

But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more. 

//

“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?” 

Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly. 

He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”

She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute. 

“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand. 

He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.” 

“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand. 

Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid. 

Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted. 

His phone chimed from his pocket. 

In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client. 

Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered. 

You: Hey, are you free later?

Azriel: I'm free all night.

When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text. 

Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?

You: see you then.

He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did. 

He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left. 

His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion. 

And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.

And then another. 

And another. 

Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes. 

“Sorry I’m a little late.” 

Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you. 

Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case. 

“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence. 

You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.

Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight. 

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?

You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.” 

You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out? 

But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip. 

“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you. 

“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.” 

You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”

A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him. 

“Why not?” 

You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real. 

“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?” 

Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.” 

You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise. 

“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?” 

Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you. 

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” 

He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin. 

It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed. 

Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night. 

“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city. 

You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment. 

“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing. 

Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”

You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?” 

He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.” 

You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug. 

“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive. 

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.” 

He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.

Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs. 

A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further. 

You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull. 

The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint. 

With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel. 

You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat. 

With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads. 

“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint. 

Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again. 

“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.” 

You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him. 

Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening. 

“I’ll have the same as you.” 

He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms. 

“You can keep that, too.”

You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by. 

It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that. 

“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”

And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers. 

Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help. 

“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”

Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?” 

“Yeah.” 

He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his. 

“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”

That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you. 

“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding. 

You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away. 

You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”

“Why would they do that?”

There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.” 

You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong. 

“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”

“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards. 

Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.” 

Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face. 

Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick. 

“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”

But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.

A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes. 

And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his. 

Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded. 

Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth. 

He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth. 

It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs. 

The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console. 

Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp. 

In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him. 

But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. 

His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly. 

Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you. 

And that made him sick to his stomach. 

Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.” 

You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his. 

Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself. 

He looked over at your seat again. 

Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste. 

Azriel was fucking done for. 

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[graciegoeskrazy]

and too much racket

matty healy + teen!daughter!r (ft. george)

warnings: r does drugs!!!, nothing in graphic detail, mentions of mattys addiction, yelling, crying, shit ending but cute?

a/n: mention of a specific drug that starts with a k that i can’t fully say so inside the street name cuz i don’t want tumblr banning me even do its weird cuz they block my angstyfluffy healy things but there’s litteral prn on thier site anywhooooooo im a lover not a fighter. thx to anon who requested! had to do research cuz ive never done drugs aeha

The house was quiet. He was anticipating another night alone in the house while you were out with friends. The silence was broken by the sound of a call. He snatched up the phone and answered it immediately. 9 times out of 10 it was just you checking in or saying hi.

“Hi, baby. Everything okay?”

“Mr. Healy?” The voice on the other end was hesitant, unsure. Most importantly, it wasn’t yours.

“Kate? Where’s y/n?” The worry in his voice intensified, his mind racing through all the possible scenarios.

“Mr. Healy, we’re getting ready to drop y/n off. Are you home?”

“Yeah. Why? Is she okay? Is she that drunk?” He laughed a little at the thought. He knew you liked to drink on occasion and sometimes even use weed and he was usually fine with it as long as you were being safe and called when you needed him. He always said he would drop anything in a heartbeat.

“No, she’s not drunk. She’s...high...on something that...isn’t weed.” Kate’s words hung heavily in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

“What? What was it, Kate? You can tell me.” His voice was laced with confusion and urgency.

“I don’t know. She left the room awhile ago, said she was going to the bathroom, but when she came back she was clearly on something. Something a lot stronger.”

“Oh god.” He ran a hand through his hair, his mind spinning.

“Somebody said she had mentioned Ket, but I don't know where she would’ve gotten it? We don’t do that type of stuff—I barely drink!” Kate’s voice cracked, the fear and confusion palpable.

“I know, I know, Kate. It’s gonna be okay. Where is she now?” He forced himself to stay calm. He could tell your friend was starting to panic even more.

“She’s asleep in the car. We just left.” Her voice softened, the exhaustion and worry evident.

“Alright, bring her here. Drive carefully. We’ll figure this out.”

As the call ended he sent frantic texts to the only other people who he knew loved you almost as much as he loved you, begging them to come over. George, residing the closest, knocked on the door not even 10 minutes later, worried about the vague text Matty sent. Ross came in not long after, with Adam, Carly, Charli, and Jamie all trailing from behind. He explained everything he knew, and before they knew it a knock sounded at the door.

—————

Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the car, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. You couldn't believe Kate had brought you here, to your own house. You barely remembered getting in the car. Now - you were wide awake. "You brought me to my house?!" Your voice shook with disbelief.

Kate, her face a mask of concern, tried to reach out to you. "It’s for your own good, Y/n. We called your dad, he’s gonna help—"

Your eyes widened in horror, and she took a step back in fear. "You called my DAD?!?!"

Kate flinched at the volume, "We were just trying to help, Y/n."

"Well, just stay out of it—" You shot back, voice breaking.

The front door swung open, and Matty stood there, his face set in a grim expression. "Y/N," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Living room. Now."

You felt a surge of defiance but knew better than to argue with your father when he was in this state. "Dad—"

"Now," Matty repeated, his voice stern.

With a final, furious glance at Kate, you stormed past her and into the house.

Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she confronted your father, filled with worry and guilt. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Healy! I should have kept a closer eye on her-”

“It’s not your fault, Kate. We’ll get through this.” He managed a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to y/n.

Matty followed her inside, closing the door behind him with a heavy thud.

You were met with most of your aunts and uncles as soon as you walked in, mentally groaning and rolling your eyes. The room is tense. You glance around, taking in the faces of family and friends, all summoned by your father. Their presence only amplifies your frustration. You turned to your father as soon as you heard his familiar footsteps grow closer.

“You called everyone?!” you exclaim.

Matty’s expression is stern, unyielding. “We need help with this one, babe”

“Oh my god— I got high one time. I need some water and Advil, not a fucking intervention,” you retort.

“Sit down,” Matty commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you drop onto the couch, your arms crossed in defiance. Matty takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Weed and a couple of Trulys are one thing, y/n, but this?!”

You roll your eyes, a gesture that seems to cut through the tension like a knife. It’s a bold move, especially aimed at your father. Even in your age of defiance, you never once dared to act like this in front of your father. He doesn’t flinch, his gaze piercing as he presses on. “Where’d you get it?” You shift uncomfortably, weighing your options. “Tell me. Now,”

You let out a resigned sigh. “A friend—”

“What friend?” Matty interrupts, his patience wearing thin.

“She was prescribed it for her anxiety or something,” you explain, trying to maintain some composure. “Now she’s just been dealing it to people.”

The room remains charged with tension, but a different kind now, more personal, more painful. You sit, feeling the weight of your father’s disappointment. The silence hangs heavily before Matty finally speaks again.

“Those girls were scared, y/n. You should’ve heard Kate; she was terrified! I could hear it in her voice,” Your dad says, his voice strained.

“She’s fine,” you reply dismissively.

Matty’s eyes narrow. “You better pray they forgive you.”

“Oh my god— it’s not that big of a deal!”.

“You scared the shit out of ’em, love!” Matty’s voice rises, echoing through the room.

“You think everything was fine after I quit? I lost friends, y/n. I almost lost every single person in this room, and I probably would’ve if I hadn’t gotten my act together.”

“Well, good for you. You’re doing so great now,” you retort sarcastically, the bitterness evident.

Matty’s expression shifts from anger to confusion. “I just don’t understand what caused you to act out like this?”

“Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the fucking tree,” you shoot back, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. He knew what you were referring to. They all did.

“Y/n!” George’s voice breaks the momentary silence, his tone a mix of shock and reprimand.

“Take it back,” Matty demands, his dangerous. “Take it back right now, y/n.”

“You can’t be that surprised, can you?” you challenge, meeting his gaze without a flinch..

“You heard of the things I went through!” Matty’s voice cracks, a raw edge to his words.

“Are you kidding? I fucking saw the things you went through! The things you put me through!” Your voice rises, the anger and pain you’ve held back for so long spilling out. “The nights you chose that shit over me! The weeks and months you left me with George because you were too high or too irresponsible to take care of me! Your daughter!”

The room goes silent. Matty’s face is a mix of guilt and helplessness, but it soon turns to anger. “Go upstairs,” Matty finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stand up, your movements brisk and fast, and head towards the stairs. Each step feels like a mountain, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on you. As you reach your room, the door closes behind you with a soft click, cutting off the world outside.

—————

The next morning, you wake up to an empty house. Your father and George must have left early for the studio, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence is heavy, a stark contrast to the tension of the previous night. You sit on the edge of your bed, the events replaying in your mind, and decide to call George.

After a few rings, he picks up, voice chipper. “Well, look who’s up and out of her intoxicated state!”

You roll your eyes, though a small smile tugs at your lips. “I called to ask how your day was going, not to hear about my mistakes.”

“Awe, she cares!” George’s voice is teasing, but there’s warmth in it too.

“I always do,” you reply softly, the sincerity clear in your tone.

There’s a brief pause before George speaks again, his voice a bit more serious. “Your dad misses you. Won’t stop moanin’ and groanin’ about his girl.”

“You sure he’s not talking about another girl?” you ask.

George sighs. “You both said things you regret, babe. Fix it. Whatever is happening right now, it’s not worth it.”

“I know,” you admit, the guilt gnawing at you. “Thanks, George.”

“And if you ever do that tom-fuckery again, I will have your head in an old-fashioned guillotine.”

“Noted.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then you muster the courage to say, “I never said thank you for taking care of me then. So…thank you. For everything.”

George smiles a bit. “Just doing my duties as best uncle.”

“Hm.” You smile.

After hanging up, you sit quietly for a moment, absorbing the conversation. George’s words echo in your mind.

Later that day, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening. Matty’s voice calls out, filled with tentative. “Baby girl? I’m home.”

You rush out from where you’ve been anxiously waiting, tears already streaming down your face. As soon as you see him, you crumble into his arms, mumbling through your sobs. “I’m sorry I mess up and I’m sorry for the things I said and the things I’ve done and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me and I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect kid but I really try to be and try to be that perfect kid for you and for everyone but it all just got a little much and I was trying to make things better and be an adult I guess and I got carried away and I’m sorry Daddy I’m just so sorry.”

He smiles, trying to hide his laugh at your words and ranting. He wraps his arms around you tightly, his voice soothing. “It’s gonna be fine, baby—”

“No it’s not,” you interrupt, your voice cracking with the weight of your guilt. “I messed up, I messed up bad. I made a mistake.”

“A mistake which you will never make again, correct?”

“I promise,” you whisper, your tears soaking into his shirt.

“Good. You’re not perfect, y/n. And thank god you’re not. Do you know how horrible I would feel if I had a perfect child? God, I could never keep up with you. You are smart and funny and so charismatic, and if it weren’t for you being my child, then you might have been perfect…” The tension starts easing. “But I don’t care,” Matty continues, his voice tender. “Because you are mine, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“I love you,” you say, your voice steadying as you look up at him.

“I love you most... but I will throw you in a river if you do that shit again,” Matty replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. Now, maybe, just maybe, healing can begin.

[novistarplanet]

I have another ask… if that’s alright

I need some JJK period comfort.

Possibly with: Nanami, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki Toge

Thanks!

-Roaring

Sorry these took so long but noo your fine i needed some more ideas to write anyways !

ill add tags later

Period comfort with the jjk boys!

Nanami

As another cramp bursts through your body you cant help but to cry more into you side. As you shrivel your body deeper into a fetus position. 

Not only the pain was too much a to bare physical it was mentally too much. You and nanami have been trying for a while to conceive.

A coming of days ago you received a positive home testing answering y’all’s prayers until now your period came. You knew nanami would be upset even if he didn’t show it.

You were crying so much you didn’t even realize your husband sitting next to you on the bed soothing your back.

You couldn’t help but to mumble apologies but he stops you in your tracks and kisses your forehead.

“With child or not i am blessed to still have you”

Gojo

You boyfriend can be a goofy-ball most of the time…ALL THE TIME but this time your just not in the mood.

It was dark in your dorm a track of ocean waves play as you try to focus on studying and ignore the constant bangs against your stomach.

But suddenly your boyfriend busts in turning on the lights annoying you. You honestly couldn’t care least that Geto could eat 4 biscuits without water. As he ket talking and talking about nonsense you snapped at him.

you didn’t mean it no but sometimes you just want him to shut up. You knew he took the hint at the way his face fell and his talking came to a pause a moment of silence came and he left the room.

You honestly felt like an asshole. A asshole with stomach pain you notice the door slowly opening again with the figure of Gojo popping up.

“i know that your probably in a lot of pain right now and i got this for you” he reveals his hands showing an heating pad.

You too spent the next couple of hours ranting about who can eat the most biscuits

Yuji

Out of all the boys you knew Yuji was just the sweetest out there. Reminding you to eat when you been studying to much to tucking you into bed when you fell asleep in the car

This time was no different you two were out on a date when your period came. You didn’t expect it to come so soon but nevertheless you went to the bathroom and took care of it but what you didn’t really didn’t expect was the pain to come so quickly.

Yuji knew something was up the way your face twisted in pain each minute or so. You couldn’t even make it through your broccoli without having a death grip on your fork.

a series of questions came from yuji came from him each time he notices your face switching you brushed him off with each question. But after you dropped your fork you told him about your period.

after that he paid for the remaining balance for the food and too you too home. You spend the rest of the night wrapped in his arms with an heating pad on your belly.

Megumi

You and your boyfriend Megumi have been dating for a couple of months either of you spent the night over each other houses or done anything sexual.

To be fair he didn’t know anything about the female anatomy until now. You too were on face-time like always you just doing goofy things while Megumi just watch you and laugh it off.

He notice how your laughs came to a stop and how you were quick to turn your camera off and moaning loudly. Soon the call came to a end. He thought that he should just give you your privacy. but then again?? could he really?

in next 20 minutes he came with your favorite snacks to check up on you while you explain to him about periods and your body. The night ended with you too watching Love is blind.

[honourablejester]

Thinking about homebrew deities for ttrpgs, I’ve been pondering deities that are not default humanoid. A while back I made a post about D&D 5e’s version of Spelljammer, where the Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, and I posited what some of those vast corpses might look like:

“These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone.”

And I’m coming back around to that now. Particularly the sea god who’s a vast alien whale, because space whales, but I’m thinking about gods that are not mostly humanoid figures a-la the RL Greek or Norse pantheons, but are fully alien or weird or just non-humanoid. (I’m including elves and dwarves and most broadly human-shaped fantasy races under ‘humanoid’ here). Gods that do not appear in humanoid form. Gods whose primary worshipers are other forms of life. Gods who are weird.

I do have a couple of homebrew deities that don’t appear in humanoid form already. Nuissas, goddess of primal darkness, who usually appears as a vast eyeless abyssal fish. Ket, the First and Formless, deity of primal evil, who as the titles suggest is formless and possibly doesn’t actual exist at all. And while I was looking at them, I did notice a little … A little mental bias maybe. Because both of them are primal deities. Primordial. The first and the formless. Nuissas is likely the oldest deity in her cosmology, the primeval darkness that existed before all things. Ket is the first and formless evil, the first malicious whisper of a thought a sentient being ever had. They’re primal. Elemental.

Which made me wonder … Do I consider non-humanoid forms to be more primitive than humanoid ones? Not consciously, but just instinctively? Looking at it, gods of civilisation, knowledge, invention, law, are they usually humanoid? What sets humans apart from beasts? Fire. Science. (Possibly also thumbs). Is there a bit of post-Enlightenment bias at work here. Heh.

Although, to be fair to myself, Ineia, my goddess of city and civilisation, is also a spider as well as a humanoid woman. But she’s still humanoid, she just needed extra arms for all the work. So. Not quite enough to count, methinks.

This is only an idle thought, I want to mull on the idea of non-humanoid deities some more. See what I come up with. I just wanted to note to myself, while I’m considering, to look beyond just the primal sorts of domains while I’m at it.

That said, I do still want a sea god who’s a vast alien whale with innards full of strange waters. Being eaten by a vast divine whale-god is just too entrenched an image, you know? Maybe also a deity of light and twilight who is a vast beautiful bioluminescent jellyfish. No, I’m not stuck on sea creatures over here, absolutely not. But if you had a waterworld setting, you could have a LOT of fun drawing up a fishy pantheon. The deity of invention and adaptation is a cephalopod. The deity of war is a mantis shrimp. The deity of trickery and hunger and malice is an anglerfish.

But even in a standard fantasy world, some deities that are not and have never been humanoid. A dwarven knowledge deity who is the stone itself, a vast tracery of mineral veins across the world that carry thoughts and dreams and memories. A deity of trickery and magic who turns out, at the base of all its million forms, to be a simple mote of potential, something that looks visually a bit like a will-o-wisp or a soot-sprite made of light, a thought given vaguely physical form. A forge-god who built themselves, a machine-thing of metal and magic that built itself limbs and systems and housing as it required them, a monument to self-expression and self-construction, function over form, with no care for the aesthetic sensibilities of lesser forms of life. A black hole that is the deity of absolute law, remorseless and inexorable and pitilessly even-handed. A deity of remorse and sacrifice and healing that formed from the regretful blade of a monstrous killer, given life and divinity by their final act of self-murder. Gods who are dark moons and balls of mangled flesh and rivers of space time and tiny trembling animals and perfectly mundane objects and abstract shapeless things. Gods who are weird and funky and abstract and just do not deign to appear in familiar form for mortals. If I must look like you for you to worship me, you are not worth my time. I shall appear as I am, or as I choose, and you must simply deal with it, or shatter, as you so choose. Heh.

Non-humanoid deities, is my point here. I need to think on it some. Heh.

[st-peculiar]

hi this is the character ask game thing today's contender: KAS METIS-QUETZEVE IPA: kɑ̈s metɪs kʰɛt͡seɪve AVERAGE PHONETIC: kahs meh-tis ket-say-vay PRONOUNS: He/They (prefers masc terms) CAST TYPE: Earth/Light splitcasting, which would usually appear in the form of light refraction through different materials, but he specialized more towards the earth side of his casting for work.

PERSONALITY: Kas, overall, is a kind and attentive person; He doesn't half-ass caring about things. Whether it's his work, or his family, or his family's friends, he will do everything in his power to make sure they're safe, happy, and generally okay. Needless to say, this makes it so that sometimes he forgets to take care of himself. He's been trying to do better about that. His biggest flaw is probably the fact that he is very, very obvious about things; they try not to be directly rude or blunt, but in a world of office politics and having to respectfully discuss things, they struggle. They never really learned how to talk about their ideas as a kid, as they were seen as just the ramblings of the youngest child obsessed to death with space- and that appears in their conversations now. They just don't know when to stop talking, and because they love talking, this can become a problem. Kas is also an avid music lover, and a very religious person, though part of that might be the fact he's married to a priest (more on his husband, Tzalos, later.) He's always felt most connected to Deusae Tenebri, Tellarae, and Radian- the gods of space/creation, physics and the death/life cycle, and light/movement respectively. (fun fact: his favorite song is Jupiter by Gustav Holst, and he's also named after a moon of Jupiter, Metis. The moon is pronounced slightly different but hey it's fun anyway)

WORK: Kas is project director on Board Six of the Pavilic Astronomical Research Institute (PARI)'s Spacecraft Research Divison; He loves his job to death. More or less, it's his job to oversee and direct what projects are assigned to his board by the Oversight Committee. They're the ones in kahoots with the rest of the department, and sending down the jobs to whatever board they think can work on it best. Think of it like a council with several different assembly lines, and they decide which things could be best made by which assembly line. Occasionally, they'll tell two of those lines/boards to work together, or they'll have giant 9-Board meetings to discuss something they can't figure out, etc. Usually, his jobs go like "problem-discussion-resource gathering-solution." Sometimes, it's a lot more of "problem-discussion-research-discussion-research-more research-even more research-resource gathering-not enough resources-communicate funding issues-research-build-solution." He's pretty much been all over the country in meetings with him and his "boss" (a board director on the OC named Diakerizi Askells-tye'Remerroae, who has a comically long name, and yes that's plot important) talking to different people and trying to explain to them why, yes, they DO need an unrestricted supply of synthesized Solaeic materials, unless you want the people in that craft to start overheating the second they get inside. That probably looked like a bunch of word vomit, but making the Magic Version of NASA has been very fun and i love that actually

FAMILY: - Doesn't talk to his own much - Met his absolutely lovely husband Tzalos Quetzeve (he/him, lightcasting) while traveling for work (they had to commit shenanigans and tomfoolery and other kinds of mischief while attempting to convince a temple to join their fundraising committee for some youth education stem initiative, long story) - Has a wonderful child named Teq Quetzeve (who took Tzalos's last name because it sounded better, which is pretty common, as all last names are hyphenated in Pavilic culture, so shortening them is kind of a must.) (also, he/she/they lightcasting). Teq went into Applied Cast Mechanics (basically magic engineering) because of Kas (he was a big inspiration for them) and works for the government now. - was/is actually one of the best parents in the series (though that bar is quite low)

CONCLUSION: Kas is enthusiastic, devoted, and yet sometimes too much so. They really like space, work for Magic NASA, and are a generally nice person to be around. He is the kind of person to go ask for something when they mess up his order at a restaurant while also being aware of the busy environment he's in and how to not be a karen about it. thanks for listening :) - HC

Oh I like this guy a lot. He seems like a very intricately crafted character, and a lot of love clearly went into this entire story you’ve built.

I think he’d best get along with Michael Whittaker, an assistant cryobiologist at an Antarctic research station and resident radio host.

Whittaker (I often refer to my characters by their surnames), after being permanently injured after his service in the army, began to take on biology as a pet project, and eventually grew into a genuine passion. At a job he got out of college, he meets Callahan Finch. While not in love romantically, they are each others ride or die, and have a kid together as well.

Whittaker is also a very devoted parent to their daughter, Darcy, but doesn’t always make the best decisions in regards to the big picture.

He gets along well with most, but is also terribly impulsive at times when speaking.

I think Kas and Whittaker, while having contrasting fields of work, would bond over their love for their families and passion for their careers.

Also, Magic NASA sounds pretty fucking sick and I love that.

Awesome character.

[modern-inheritance]

Finally at work after taking Lexi in for her teefs cleaning and growth removal. Stopped for a bit of a Ket treat of Ketnip (coffee, hats off to my favorite Norwegian brother for the me-specific term) and some fruit and now we are here.

Gonna be here later than usual due to coming in an hour and 45 mins later than I usually do but it’s all good, I got 2/3rds of the spicy kinda finished last night (was like…well, not to jinx Lexi knock on wood but it was like pulling teeth in some places) and thus I feel that most of my work is done for the week.

…no, I will not post it here, and there is even a STRONG possibility it will NEVER be posted. My beta readers…they taught me so many words. I’m scared.

Anyway. I’ve never quite figured out why I post these kinda posts telling you guys what my plans are for the day. The parasocial relationship? The strange fulfillment of making an almost to do list without actually making one and thus being able to still snap at my father that I don’t use planners or lists like because our ADHD symptoms are different? Organizing my thoughts in a way that I know I will see when I scroll? The human drive to be remembered even though I feel that the world needs some people who are fine with being unremarkable and it’s sitting with me quite well to be a part of that non-illustrious group?

✨The world may never know.✨

[beacon-of-chaos]

Since Quetza is in the @sonic-oc-showdown, I figured I'd fill out one of these questionnaires I've seen around. I apologise, I'm not sure who came up with it, but I first saw it on @bunnymajo's page.

FYI: Some of this stuff I am coming up with on the fly!

Name: Quetza the Snake

Species: Winged Snake. No particular type of snake in mind.

Type: Flight

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Home: Station Square?

Quetza claims to be either the reincarnation, descendant, or chosen one of the ancient god Quetzacoatl. The answer differs each time you ask her, but it's hard to deny. She's a snake born with wings and she has magical abilities, specifically control over wind and air, and shapeshifting, which is why she has four arms. She travels the world, looking for clues about her true nature. She has an easy going nature and can be shy, but opens up quickly to those are friendly to her. She loves fashion, junk food, and video games. She doesn't like to fight, but can defend herself if she needs to, using gusts of wind to fly around and using her shapeshifting to extend her arms or tail for quick strikes.

✨How did you come up with the OC’s name?

She's inspired by the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, the winged serpent god. Quetzalcoatl means "precious serpent" in the Nahuatl language, so her name could roughly be translated as Precious the Snake!

Note: It's pronounced KET-zah. :)

🌼  - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

She's an adult. Late 20s, I guess?

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

No. She gains crushes easily, and forgets them almost as quickly.

🍕  - What is their favorite food?

Ice cream! She has a real sweet tooth.

💼  - What do they do for a living?

Uh... I haven't thought that far yet.

So, at this point I need to explain. Quetza is literally just my fursona; wish fufilment in all its forms XD. She doesn't have a story, per se.

So I could give her a boring office job like mine. Or maybe say that she's something really cool? Like my version of the Rookie?

How about this: she started as a scout for the Resistance and is now a manager/organiser at the Restoration, working closely with Jewel.

🎹  - Do they have any hobbies?

Video games, mostly action/adventure types.

🎯  -What do they do best?

Flying! With her wind magic aiding her, no one can fly faster or more skillfully!

🥊  -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Shopping and exploring! She travels often, looking for clues about her past, but she's always looking for a nice city to stay in when she does so.

❤️  - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

I think when she realised exactly what her powers could do. Figuring that out about herself would be a big moment.

✂️   - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Probably getting bullied for being a freak by the other kids when she was younger :(

🧊  - Is their current design the first one?

No, she's changed a fair bit since her first design. I literally added the extra arms cos I thought it was cool and her hairstyle has changed a lot (as you can see in the above pictures). She also used to be a rattlesnake cos I thought it would be cute if she rattled when scared/angry. IDK, might bring that back.

🍀  - What originally inspired the OC?

I like snakes and I always thought the idea of a snake with wings was cool. I really fell in love with the concept of Coatls in D&D a while back so I wanted to make that my 'sona.

🌂  - What genre do they belong in?

IDK, what do Sonic games count as? Action? Sci-fi (there's a lot of robots, after all)?

💚  -What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Genderfluid transwoman, bisexual.

🙌  - How many siblings does your OC have?

None.

🍎  - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

I think pretty good? I don't have parents for her in mind yet.

🧠  - What do you like most about the OC?

LOOK. AT. HER. ❤️

Shout out to @kuchintta for the comission I got.

✏️  - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Almost never. This is the most I've ever written about her and I don't actually draw much.

💎  - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

No! That would be like killing myself.

💀  - Does your OC have any phobias?

Hm. My phobia is of heights, but she can fly so there's no way that would scare her. I guess not!

🍩  -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

That jerk at Restoration HQ who always gets the best snacks from the vending machine first! How does he always get there so quick?

🎓  - How long have you had the OC?

About a year... apparantly! Wow, that's gone by quick!

[wormbloggign]

genuinely interested in what taylors reading here, assuming it isnt required reading for school since the prt seems to have regulations on and about juvenile capes

i wonder if its twilight?

self care!!! (she would not give herself this kind of time off if she werent in prison)

taylors back to her favourite pastime again!

the logistics around this would be very funny to figure out, though i pity the sap that has to change the bug-ket when it gets full

that explains how quickly they got it, i had assumed dragon was just being creepy and had pre-made the hero!skitter costume in the hopes it came up.

this way is probably better

...

yeah, nah that's not gonna work. "mistakes" is doing a bit too much heavy lifting on your part armsdealer

he is staying as STILL as POSSIBLE (goofy guy behaviour)

so were currently 2 for 2 on PRT non-cape fuckheads, lets see how he holds up! (either way i somehow doubt he is long for this world)

Mrs Yamada. I like where you're coming from but therapy + 10 judgemental onlookers might not be the best call.

aw fuck hes getting downright endearing

REAL (clockblocker has shot up to S tier)

WORLDS SLIMIEST MAN (its nice that hes on taylors side but like wow this guy is shit)

GIRL!! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR SPOT CHECKING!!

she does not give up on her hobbies gd

dont worry, all im doing is setting up a large scale surveillance state, perfectly ethically and legally sound.

okay ignore any bad ting i may have ever expected to say about glenn.

THIS MAN GETS IT

YES!!!

WERE GETTING DOWN THE PRESENTATION!!!!

the dissonance is too powerful for him, he's seen taylor at some of her most nightmariest highs and now she's going through the same public relations hoops he had to

i really wasnt trying to find him this charming, i really wasnt

taylor drops ONE (1) bugfact and suddenly shes getting called a nerd. maybe the endbringers are right, we really should kill them all

d-doesn't he go to classes on exacty this?

what am i saying, he wouldnt pay attention in school

yes actually, 'disturbing' does suit your swarm of insects quite well as an adjective

i get that we're supposed to be a little annoyed at the constant micromanaging but i expected theyd do at least this much, im surprised she didnt get some media training beforehand, theyre being pretty hands off, all things considered.

maybe thats because they want her to fail though :(

eyyyy! thats... deeply disturbing as a heroes one-liner actually. maybe take some more time workshopping that

oh that's nice, her bugs worked to break concentration, this is a fight against dnd wizards

LETS GET ELDRITCH BABEYYY

unbe-weaver-ble

i do love how hard theyre commited to the bit though

legitimately sick burn

had to be done, glenn wont be happy though

B)

“Taylor Hebert?  On the issue with the bug population of my facility, I feel it would be a very bad idea to provide you with a caustic substance to give your bugs, given what your file says you achieved with capsaicin.  I had a bug zapper purchased, and you should be able to access it with each and every one of your tiny soldiers.  I expect to see it used, understand?”

(moving to copy paste bc tumblr says no more screenshots)

immensely funny solution

The spiders, I kept on hand, directing them to the burned corpses.  They could breed, in time, and I could put them somewhere where they wouldn’t encounter any people. Breaking the rules, maybe, but it was something to occupy my thoughts.  It made me feel just a little safer, a little more like myself.

its gonna be so funny when the wardens find the underground spider breeding ring

[bharv]

hiiii for Glim!

For Good: Is there anyone in your OC's life who had an undeniable positive impact on who they are as a person? How did knowing this person improve your OC's life?

Past: Does your OC have any past partners? How did the relationship(s) end? Are any of their exes still in their life, and if so, do they get along?

Future: Is there anyone your OC is looking forward to meeting or to seeing again? Who? What might that meeting or reunion look like?

Eeee thank you!

I've answered For Good - it's her mother's old girlfriend Ket, who The Emperor uses as his disguise. She was the reason she could go to the library, go to university. She was a good egg indeed.

Past: Does your OC have any past partners? How did the relationship(s) end? Are any of their exes still in their life, and if so, do they get along?

She's definitely well into double-figures but most of them are not serious at all. Most just kind of fizzle out and so she's on friendly terms with pretty much everybody. There's about four more significant partners (bearing in mind she's in her sixties when the game starts, so that's not many). Drek, her first boyfriend, who was another Deep Gnome that she grew up around who later married her sister-in-law's brother because the clan is small like that, Clane, who was one of the first musicians she studied with and her first love, a halfling who played the lute and ended up dumping her because she was progressing faster than he was and he was jealous (they got over it, but she was pretty heartbroken for a while), Almeida, a half-elf Sunite cleric who she met in Neverwinter and fell very deeply for, though it was more of a one sided muse-type relationship, and Gelrinn, another fellow bard who disappeared one day leaving a note that just said "sorry, I can't."

Future: Is there anyone your OC is looking forward to meeting or to seeing again? Who? What might that meeting or reunion look like?

She's always happy to see Volo and Rolan particularly, and invites them to Waterdeep far too often for Gale's liking as they're terrible guests. Rolan is a fusspot, and Volo keeps them up too late and always drinks too much with Glim and leaves before he has to deal with the consequences. She also keeps a close eye on Mol, and is always trying to intervene to get her on the straight and narrow just a little bit. She fails every time.

[solarlotus]

Obi-Wan with post-partum depression and Anakin just trying his best™! ❤️

I nearly didn't do this as so close to home. This is really a bit autobiographical. If you're suffering post natal depression please see your doctor and talk to someone. It will pass, all things do.

TW: mpreg mentioned, omega verse, talk of low mood

In a verse where Cal- Ketis is Obi Wan's son.

It had been months since Obi Wan had been himself. Cal-Ket was thriving, a good baby who never really cried, was sleeping better than most and was universally admired. Obi Wan was glowing in Anakin's opinion. Despite the early few weeks of sleeplessnss and a long labour Obi Wan was doing well.

Except he wasn't.

He fretted about leaving little Cal with anyone except Anakin's mother. Fretted about returning to duties, especially as the Jedi were not known for their child friendly policies. He fretted about his figure, comparing himself to other omegas, petite creatures like Padme who were dainty and lithe, like omegas should be.

Anakin told Obi Wan he looked good, he squeezed his tits and ass, told him he was sexy. But this didn't seem to help, Obi Wan still looked sadly at himself in the mirror, held his baby close and avoided social occasions.

It came to a head after a routine visit to Padme's office, Obi Wan came home, fed Cal then threw himself on the bed, staring at the wall.

'What is it?' Anakin asked, placing a cup of tea on the bedside table. 'Please, Obi.'

'I just can't do it! She's so pretty and tiny, I feel so crap, I'm not even any good at being a Jedi anymore, the house is a tip, the Jedi just seen me as a parent and nobody looks at me like they want me anymore, I didn't even realise they did until they stoppped. Stars, I sound vain and ridiculous.' He swiped a tear from his face and turned away as Anakin stroked his shoulder.

'I don't want Padme, I don't know why you keep going on about her. She's too small, I want you. You're lovely and sexy and so so good at everything. Cal is perfect, because of you.' Anakin scooped Obi Wan into his arms. 'You have to stop watching those parenting holos, those omegas have all had weird surgery and have nannies raising their kids.'

Obi Wan sniffed on Anakin's shoulder. 'Let's go for dinner, just us, mom will look after Cal and I think you should take longer leave from duties. You don't need to do everything, the Jedi will still be there when Cal is older.'

Obi Wan nodded. 'I think I'll take instahol off my datapad.'

'Good.' Anakin kissed Obi Wan's forehead. 'You're my omega, my precious Obi Wan. All things pass, Obi, you told me that once.'

'I love you, dear one,' Obi Wan whispered as Anakin embraced him.

'I know.'

[imperiuswrecked]

Other than anything from the surface, have their been any ocean-based threats to Atlantis, or Namor specifically?

Oh boy, this is like gonna be a rough quick history, and I def rec at least reading marvel wiki if you want more details but in short, yes. There have been many undersea threats to Atlantis and Namor.

1. The most well-known is Lemuria. There have been many Ages, or times during which different factions had control of Lemuria. Deviant Lemuria, Naga & The Serpent Crown, Empress Llyra of Lemuria, etc. Lemuria is based in the Pacific Ocean while Atlantis was in the Atlantic Ocean. While Namor clashed with Lemuria many times over the years, it is Empress Llyra who is Namor's greatest enemy. The Lemurians usually had green skin while the Atlanteans had blue skin. Many Lemurians worshipped the Evil Elder God, Set.

2. Attuma the Barbarian & his Horde. Attuma often challenges Namor or attempts to take over the throne of Atlantis because he feels Namornis unfit to rule as a "half breed" and only Attuma should rule.

3. Warlord Krang. Once trusted Warlord and advisor, Krang often tried to take over the throne of Atlantis because he thought a half breed prince such as Namor didn't deserve to rule. In the past few decades Krang had a heel turn and is back as a advisor and Warlord to Atlantis, but he can and will eventually betray Namor again.

4. Suma-Ket & Artys-Gran, and the Unforgiven Dead. Suma-Ket was the Witch-King of Atlantis. He took over rule for a time pretending to be a holy figure, prophets and prophecies, but in reality he worshipped Demonic Elder Gods and he and his wife, Artys-Gran would have blood sacrifices, usually from Atlantean children. Also Artys-Gran was a body snatcher, she could take over other people's bodies and have them trapped in her dead decaying form.

5. Sirenas, relatively new to the scene but with a long history of spilled blood between these merpeople and the Atlanteans.

6. The Black Tide, once a group of warrior women who vowed to protect Atlantis, the people, and the seas, a dark magic corrupted them and they became evil incarnate. They murdered nearly all the Chasm People and turned their attention to Atlantis before being imprisoned but currently they are free to wreck havoc.

7. Merrano, the U-Man. Atlantean Nazi who hates Namor and sided with the Nazis during WWll.

8. Prince Byrrah, Namor's cousin, step son to Emperor Tha-Korr, and all around terrible royal trash. He tormented Namor as they grew up, often teasing or bullying him, and is basically the "Golden Child" to Namor's "Red Headed Step Child" trope. He urged Tha-Korr to use Namor's strength by sending him to the surface world to wage war. He often tries to take the throne even though he had claim to it, Namor is the first in line as heir. Undermining Namor and turning the Atlantean people against Namor were his tricks to get Namor exiled or kicked off the throne. He's like very wiley and most of this is Court Drama, but it's a threat from within. Currently he's dead because his royal blood was used to free Suma-Ket from his otherworldy prison.

Those are the major recurring or significant threats to Namor & Atlantis, but there's other evil one off or returning villains, and monsters.

[deltachapel]

this is a question to the team themselves. how did you come up with gustatl's typing quirk?

Well, I have to go on a bit of a tangent to answer that. Gustatl's name comes from 2 things. Gust, as in a gust of wind, and Ehecatl, (E-heh-cah-tuhl) also known as Quetzalcoatl. (Kets-all-coh-tuhl) Quetzalcoatl is the most important god in Aztec mythology, and along with many other things, created the wind. He appears in the form of Ehecatl, a bipedal feathered-serpent that looks somewhat like a human in stature. Since Ehecatl is a serpent, we figured that a neat quirk would be that Gustatl slurred his "s" sounds, which include s's, c's, and sometimes x's, (like in the word next) which is a trait mostly given to snake or snake-like characters in media. This also references a sort of spoiler-y detail about Gustatl, being that he pulls from another Aztec mythological entity, the Ouroborus, which, in Aztec mythos, is depicted as a serpent eating it's own tail. It represents both the beginning and the end, and is a metaphor to Gustatl's never-ending lust for power, which ended up "consuming" most of his humanity. Not that he's a human, you get what I mean.

Sorry about the long-winded answer! I could write for hours about all the thought that went into Gustatl's design, personality, origins, and backstory. He's by far my favorite creation, even if I only created certain parts of him. @snakeoilsalemsan originally thought of his concept, after all.

Long story short: Snakes. Have a good one, anon. -Vic

[endlessvoiq]

A Taste of a Bitter Past

(1233 words, CW for : a bit of fighting kind of but honestly there isnt much to warn about here)

Vini sat on a large wooden box, waiting for his groupmates to return.

As far as they were concerned, Ket, Kory, and Malcom were off getting some work done. Sure, Vini was technically supposed to be getting something else done as well, but they'd completely forgotten what it was, and either way, they weren't sure if he had really understood in the first place.

The nybble tapped the box a bit, boredly glancing around. They took off their hat, spinning it around in their hand and smiling to themself. As they spun the hat, however, it eventually flew out of their hand, landing a good distance away. "Ah- hey! Get back here, hat!" Vini yelled, hopping off the box and snickering as they ran to get their hat.

Before Vini could grab their hat, however, they bumped into someone. "Wuah-" they stepped back, looking up to see who it was.

A blue scareware stood above them. He had a cloak covering most of his seemingly scrawny body, and two small scars on his mouth. On the scareware's back, a spear was, and in his hand, Vini's hat. Vini blinked.

"uh, hi. Can I please have my hat back?" Vini asked. The scareware just stared at them for a moment.

"...ah, my apologies, this is yours?" the scareware hissed in response, his slight annoyance going unnoticed by the nybble.

"Yeah! That's why I said it's my hat."

The scareware grumbled, "well, I suppose I could return it. Sorry for your…inconvenience," he then handed the hat back to Vini.

"Oh, nice!-" Vini put their hat back on, "-thank you!" They called, now turning away to walk off.

"Hey- wait!" the scareware called out. Vini stopped, turning back around.

"Huh?"

"I just happen to…I'm looking for someone. Three someones. I don't know if you know them, but I may as well ask…" The scareware trailed off.

"Oh, I can't be sure I'll know them, but I can try to tell you if I do!" Vini puffed out their non-existent chest, surprisingly causing the blue scareware to laugh a bit.

"Hah! Thank you, little nybble. Now…I'm looking for this one real well-dressed malware, a holly gruel with a spear, and an espacibell, and, er, that last one might have some paint stains on him…do you happen to know any of them?" the scareware tilted his head, staring down at Vini.

Vini didn't have to think at all before responding, "oh! Those sound like my groupmates! Are you looking for them? Ket, Kory, Malcom?" Vini stared up with an unaware eye as the scareware stepped back.

"...your groupmates?" The scareware murmured with dismay. Vini blinked.

"Is…something wrong?" The nybble stepped forward, glancing to the side as they noticed a familiar figure running over, to the scareware's unknowing. The scareware seemed to notice Vini looking, snapping around just as Ket stabbed her spear into one of the scareware's horns, breaking a chunk of it off. The scareware yelped in pain before Ket shoved him away, standing in front of Vini and pointing her spear at the scareware.

"Stay the HELL AWAY from Vini!" Ket bellowed, glaring at the scareware. Vini flinched. They'd never heard Ket sound so angry before.

The scareware stared at Ket, at first in shock, which then shifted to anger as the scareware stood up. "You REPLACED ME!" He hissed, his voice edged with a betrayed tone that made Vini feel slightly bad for the stranger.

Ket only scoffed in response, "replaced? Yeah, right! You gave up your position in this group the moment your spear took a life," she spat in an irate disgust. Vini stepped back in a bit of fear, suddenly being pulled further away by Kory. Vini hadn't even noticed him and Malcom had arrived with the commotion going on. 

"It was an accident!-" the scareware had started to yell, silenced mid-sentence by Ket whacking her spear against the scareware's head.

"You know damn well it wasn't an accident, you RAT! We SAW you standing over their body!" Ket growled as the scareware staggered back.

"I just- I want forgiveness! I'm sorry!" The scareware cried out, jumping away from Ket's spear as she slashed at him.

Ket gripped her spear, glaring at the scareware with unbridled hatred. "After what you've done? If you think we're going to forgive you after you killed our groupmate, our friend, you can shove that thought RIGHT UP YOUR-"

Vini was unable to listen more as they were suddenly picked up by Malcom and pulled away. They tried to turn to focus on what Ket was saying, but the vicious yelling, despite its volume, was difficult to understand as Malcom ran further and further away. He only stopped once the two had reached the soccer field behind the apartments, placing Vini down behind the wall and sitting nearby. Vini shuddered a bit, looking up at Malcom in confusion. The malware was shaking.

"...Malcom?" 

Malcom hesitated, taking off his monocle and wiping his eye before looking at Vini. "Yes?" He responded after a moment, his voice hardly more than a shaky whisper.

Vini thought for a moment. So many questions were running through their head, so many things they wanted to say. "What's…why…?"

Malcom sighed, sitting up straighter, "...you shouldn't have been dragged into this."

Vini stared up at their groupmate. "What?"

"You- no, not you, the others- I told them they should've told you what's happened in the past. I saw you overhear the conversation Kory and Ket had a while back."

Vini flinched. They remembered it still : Kory and Ket had been talking- possibly even arguing- about some sort of important thing. They hadn't noticed Vini. Malcom had been off to the side, making tea. Vini hadn't paid much attention to that. He did not know Malcom had seen him.

Malcom noticed Vini flinch, and shook his hands, "y-you're not in trouble, though, no! No, it's fine. You'd have found out about the past eventually. I wanted to, but Ket…no, the both of them refused to."

Vini blinked, thinking, "...did that scareware really…?"

Malcom looked at the ground, a glint of sorrow in his eye, "yes. Yes, he did…an old friend of ours. It was an older friend of ours. Spectre, he used to- oh, uh, that's the scareware's name, Spectre- he…used to be in our group, as well, before…"

"...before it all happened," Vini murmured. Malcom only nodded in response. The nybble looked down at the ground. If the thoughts in their head were running before, then damn it, they were sprinting now. Vini's mind felt so cluttered with thoughts and thoughts and questions with no answers as of now.

Malcom sighed, looking down at Vini, "...please don't ask the others about this. Or, well, uh, Kory might be fine, but…" Malcom hesitated. "...Ket's still angry. She's been angry for so long- it's fine for her to be upset about it, of course, this is a terrible situation, I just- I just don't want her to snap at you. You don't deserve to have that anger taken out on you. You were never involved in this."

Vini only listened as Malcom spoke. When he'd finished, Vini took off their hat, staring at the three ribbons on it. "Is…she ever gonna stop being angry?"

Malcom blinked, and frowned, "...I don't know."

"I hope so."

"...yeah," Malcom looked off, back toward the alleys. "I hope so, too."

3/4

WOOO, STUFF!! Also, a few things I'd like to say : 1, sorry for just vanishing off the face of the earth on this account for a while lmao, I've had this and the final pre-written story done for a while now, just couldn't find the motivation to set up and post them. 2, sorry for never actually designing Ket, Kory, and Malcom!! To clarify them, Ket's the holly gruel, Kory's an espacibell, and Malcom. he's the malware. But yeah, I'll post the final pre-written thing soon, hope whoever reads this enjoyed doing so!!

[primevein]

The Prime of the Youth: Book II: Quest for Fire: Ch27: The Trap

Bulkhead was stretching as Roxana rushed up to him with her medkit. "Really?" Bulkhead asked.

"You need treatment." she asserted.

"Need is a strong word." he grumbled, and then soundly sat down, leaning against a concrete barricade.

"Boss?" Smokescreen asked.

Jack breathed in deeply before turning around to look at him, "I'm assuming they know where this base is. We just pissed them off." Smokescreen listed backwards at how forward he was being. "We have to setup a trap for Ser-Ket."

"Already?" Miko asked.

"Is she going definitely going to attack?" Jack asked her, "Don't know. But chances are good enough that we have to be ready." He then looked at Bulkhead, "Any ideas."

"I barely survived one chunk of ToxEn." Bulkhead stated.

"I am prepared to treat it." Roxana stated.

"What?" Miko asked, "You weren't even there."

Roxana looked at her for a moment before returning to her treatment, "Ratchet, obviously." Roxana stated.

"Oh, right." Miko replied.

"And the fact she's almost a Predacon?" Bulkhead asked.

Jack snapped out of his concentration before looking back at him, "We can use my sword as a trap, set it up on the most likely approach route, around the corner, and too high for anyone but Predacon wings to be struck by it."

"And?.." Smokescreen asked, "If she doesn't take the best route?"

"We're screwed?" Jack asked, "Unless we can set up another trap." He then looked at Bulkhead, "Maybe collapse the cave?"

"Oh, that will work." Bulkhead stated. "If you pick a small enough section."

Jack turned back to Smokescreen, "Shockwave also ramped up the aggression."

"Meaning they are more likely to take the direct approach." Arcee stated.

"And you couldn't tell us this ahead of time?" Smokescreen asked.

"Information control." Bulkhead stated.

"That," Jack said to Bulkhead, and then looked back to Smokescreen, "and we might have had to abandon the base."

"THAT is combat." Arcee added. Smokescreen nodded, slowly at first, but soon enough with more speed and clarity.

"We'll go as soon as Bulkhead is patched up and Miko has eaten." Jack stated.

* * *

Windblade and Smokescreen stood guard by the barricades. "So, how did you get guard duty?" Smokesccreen asked.

"Wrecker tricks are not my style." she simply stated. "And we are the best able to provide reinforcements. You show alarming alacrity for someone so young. I am happy to serve with you."

Smokescreen looked at her in complete and utter shock.

Arcelia giggled as Roxana whispered into her ear.

* * *

Bulkhead held Jack up as he attached his sword extended into a whip to a low cave wall, just around a corner.

* * *

Bulkhead was adjusting a device, and Miko looked at him curiously. "What are you up to?" Miko asked.

"Audio sensor. Arcelia found the sound data for Ser-Ket." Bulkhead replied. "I just have to tune it."

"And what?" Miko asked, "You set it up to a det. pack?"

"Exactly." Bulkhead replied. "She comes in this way, and it's going to cave in on her."

"And if it doesn't kill her?" Miko asked.

"We'll know where she is." Bulkhead replied.

* * *

Bulkhead drove up to where they had setup Jack's trap. "We're at the drop point." Bulkhead stated.

"Add 5." Jack stated.

"Good thing I've still got miles on my odometer." Bulkhead stated.

"Is this how you usually talk on the coms.?" Miko asked.

"You have to." Bulkhead replied, "Try to say as little as possible, and when do say something, not enough for the enemy to figure it out. They won't know the drop point is where we set the trap, they don't know what 5 miles are. If we don't use it too often, they won't even know where it is."

"Isn't the point of the trap to... wait behind the trap?" Miko asked.

"We don't want her to know the trap is there." Bulkhead stated, "We can't act like we know about the trap."

"So, we're just acting as we would without the trap?" Miko asked.

"Without giving anything away." Bulkhead replied. "As far as they know, we are setting up forward positions."

"We're not?" Miko asked.

"Jack is having us raid targets at range. More damage. Less risk."

"But we want them to think we're setting up like an army?" Miko asked, "So, if this not-a-Pred flies by, what do we do?"

"It depends." Bulkhead stated.

"On what?" Miko asked.

"What Jack wants to do, if the Dinobots are back." Bulkhead dismissively said. "Who else is coming. The best way to make a plan is to not worry too much about it."

"Why?" Miko asked, "Isn't that the point of plans?"

Bulkhead let out a brief chortle, "No plan survives first contact with the enemy."

"Who says that?" Miko asked, "Optimus? Is it a Wrecker thing."

"A Human named Murphy." Bulkhead said jovially. "The plan has to get you to the battle, and away from it. When the battle actually starts, plans never work."

"So, why is Jack spending so much time planning?" Miko asked.

"Huh?" Bulkhead asked, "Because it's working. We're out-manned and out-gunned. If we want to do anything, we need to someone like Jack to make sure everything we do matters."

"Whoa." Miko said, as the revelation hit her.

"That's why Optimus was able to do that on Earth. We had one base, little energy, and a fraction of their numbers."

"And we won!" Miko exclaimed.

"Because we had someone like Jack." Bulkhead simply stated. "And now it's his turn."

* * *

Miko sat back in Bulkhead's passenger seat as they were pulled off in a small alcove, looking back at the tunnel. "How can being a warrior be so boring?" Miko whined.

"Warriors have to be in the right place at the right time." he said, and paused, "Or for a Wrecker, the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, most of being a Warrior is traveling and waiting."

"Can't we at least turn up the sound?" Miko asked.

"Unfortunately, heavy metal isn't so good for listening." Bulkhead replied.

"What should we do?" Miko asked.

"Chill?" Bulkhead asked, and Miko sighed, but then smiled as she relaxed.

* * *

The Dinobots walked by and Bulkhead turned on his headlights. They looked at him for a moment before Grimlock jovially walked up to him, "Wrecker!" he exclaimed, "Why here?"

Miko opened the door and stepped out. "We might have pissed off Ser-Ket." She paused for a moment, "Hopefully." They just kind of stared at her. "What?" she asked, "We've beaten real Predacons. How hard could a fake one, be?"

Arcee had rolled up behind the Dinobots. She stopped and Jack climbed off of her. "We have a trap set up ahead."

"Sludge." Arcee added, "You'll want to watch your head."

"And what do we do?" Swoop excitedly asked.

"Whatever you want to do." Jack said to Grimlock. "You can wait, and hope she shows up, or just do whatever you were doing."

"Our smash and grab might have been too good for them to follow us." Bulkhead stated.

"Does Ser-Ket not know where your base is?" Jack asked.

"Barely spend time in base." Grimlock replied.

"We basically just come back to refuel." Snarl stated.

"So, we just wasted our time?" Miko asked.

"Ciel was looking through the records." Jack said as he stepped back to Arcee before standing astride her. "Let's go see what she's said." He then looked at Bulkhead, "Could you help me get my sword back?"

"Miko?" Bulkhead asked, "Why don't you join the Dinobots. You'll probably get alone."

Miko put the Apex Armour on and walked up to them. Bulkhead closed the passenger door behind her. Miko clapped her hands together, "I want to hear some stories."

* * *

Arcee carrying jack showed up with Bulkhead right behind them. "Where is your counterpart?" Windblade asked him.

"Catching up with the Dinobots." Bulkhead said, "She'll probably love their stories. I can take over if you guys want?"

"And where else should I go?" Windblade asked.

"We'll figure that one out." Jack stated as he climbed off of Arcee.

Arcee transformed to her dollform and walked beside him. "I've been a good girl." Arcee stated, "But I demand cuddles."

Jack just looked up at her with a smile.

* * *

Jack cuddled between a dollform Arcee and Arcelia as they looked at Arcelia's tablet.

[solovekitten]

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