#accidentally king of haven

[xadoheandterra]

Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVI | Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice…well, he’d probably have made the same decision either way.

Veger was not prepared for the Wastes to be in disarray, or for the memories that come with it.

Veger glanced out the window of the transport vehicle as it landed. The sight of the sand and desolate climate brought a bit of a curl to his lips—he’d always hated the visits to this place but needs often must and for Veger they must often. He turned his gaze from the window to Onin who sat next to him covered in a long white wrap that he found in her closet. Her fingers were wrapped tightly with the bracelet that Pecker had given her once upon a time. Veger sighed.

“Mother,” he said, and kept his tone soft as he spoke, well aware of her delicate state. “We have arrived in the Wastes.”

Onin glanced up at him from the bracelet and then back down to where her fingers were wrapped tight.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Veger murmured, and placed a hand upon Onin’s shoulder. She looked to him with blank and near unseeing eyes, and Veger wondered where her vision rested. With Pecker as he was torn apart by the Metal Heads? Or some far off future that she had no real comprehension of? Veger wondered, and then shook his head of it.

As a man of science Veger really did not like to ponder Onin’s penchant for ‘Prophecy’ and the foolish notion that it truly existed. As her son however he’d grown up with Words and words and Veger often knew the effects of Eco upon elfin kind were vast and varied and resulted in some very unusual abilities. Prophecy, of course, being the one that primarily ran itself through his side of the family. Veger felt rather happy that the whole mess skipped his generation, even if it left the girl to take the brunt of it.

“Afan,” Veger said shortly toward the transport technician; Afan turned his head and regarded him through red tinted goggles, well used to these frequent visits of the Count. “Don’t let any of those…people near the transport. We should be back within a few hours if all goes well.”

Afan nodded. “I’ll radio if anything changes, or if I need to leave before your time is up.”

With a nod Veger turned around and carefully began to gather up Onin in her wrap. “Come Mother,” he said gently, “let us go see Seem.”

Onin’s mouth moved, formed the name Seem silently and Veger felt a little bit of himself relax. If she could focus on the girl, then she could probably recover to be useful enough in the future. Onin always knew the right words to point him in the right direction, and Veger really needed that now more than ever. With the line of Mar back in power, once more spreading their divine nonsenses and blessed bloodline foolishness Veger found himself at a standstill of how he could get everything back on track. That damned Jak—the weapon of Praxis’ remains that walked about as if it were King—pah, Veger would handle that soon enough; he just needed Onin well first.

The transport door opened and immediately the desert air brushed against Veger’s face and he grimaced. The climate never agreed with him—too hot, too humid and arid and every -id under the sun, really. He detested the warmth, the way it seeped beneath his clothes and made him sweat something unholy. Carefully Veger moved Onin down the steps of the ramp into the sand that dug into the seams of his shoes. He lifted one and shook it; damn things would need to be replaced now. Sand remained that one impossible thing to remove.

“Come, Mother,” Veger said, and pushed Onin away from the transport and out into the desert heat fully. The sun baked down upon them as they moved; thankfully the transport pad rested close to the shadow of a cliff face, and one of the entrances to the Precusor Monks’ vast chambers. It always amused Veger how people seemed to think so little of the Monks, when really they numbered almost as large as a small encampment. A pity that they were all known to one another; good channelers were hard to come by in this day and age.

Curse Brandon, Veger thought bitterly. He could’ve had more chances to study the way eco interacted with a channeler that had no baseline substance if the man hadn’t swept every possible candidate into his weapons program. Look what it got them in the end, too—nothing but a broken tool, with too inflated of an ego to see the damage it was doing. Veger huffed as he shifted Onin now out of the sun and into the blessed cool breeze in the shadows.

“There we go,” Veger said gently as he settled her against the cliff. “I will go and check on the entrance. You stay here, Mother.”

Onin signed out one word—fingers shaky as they moved, and clumsy around the bracelet. Return?

Veger crouched down next to Onin and tried not to imagine the way the sand would get into the hem of his pants or his jacket—he’d need to replace those too, damn it all. Instead he gave Onin the best, reassuring smile he could given everything that had happened. It might’ve wavered at the edges of cold, but Onin knew him well enough to understand that cold was just Veger’s way.

“Obviously, Mother,” Veger said. “I will have Precursor Monks as my guard.”

Onin regarded him, eyes clear and serious for a moment, and then she nodded sharply and drifted back off into the distance where Veger couldn’t follow her. He sighed heavily and climbed to his feet, watched the way her gaze tracked down to the bracelet, and then turned sharply on heel as he moved away from her.

The temple was a mess, more than Veger felt used to seeing. Monks moved back and forth through hastily piled mounds of debris, broken shards of pottery or mountainside from some event that Veger lacked the knowledge of. They pushed pallets that contained barrels of eco from the Monks' personal stores that they hoarded like gold, now out in the open for any visitor to see. Not that the Precursor Monks ever really had visitors inside the temple; they kept their secrets guarded close to their chest after all. More than once since Veger entered the temple he had to quickly duck out of the path of the rushed pallets as Monks paid him little mind as they moved about their sanctuary.

Veger pressed his lips thin; he wondered if this had any ties to the mess back in Haven, or perhaps Pecker's untimely, and unexpected, passing. He knew Onin suffered from visions since the event, more incoherent than ever before. Veger could barely pull her back himself, hence this trip to the desert wasteland and the Precursor Monks inner sanctuary. Only Seem, the reckless child that she was, could parse the mess that was Onin's mind now. At least Veger hoped she would; it would be his damned luck if the girl turned out useless as everything else, after all.

"Master Veger."

Veger turned and regarded the lithe, painted and armored form that had made its way to his side silently. He recognized this Monk, the one who often took Seem under her wing ever since she'd been left to the Monks' vaunted Order for safeguarding. Veger inclined his head slightly in greeting. "Elder Shale," Veger said, voice deceptively light.

"Your presence was not anticipated," Shale said. "I apologize for the poor greeting. Please, follow me." Shale dipped her head and turned silently to lead Veger through the debris and hallway. Veger noted how she took him from the main thoroughfare where the pallets of eco barrels were being quickly moved. Instead she led him down smaller corridors that provided pathways to personal rooms. Even here the debris had not yet been cleaned, but hastily swept aside.

"Busy, aren't we?" Veger murmured as he toed around a pile of debris.

"There as been an Emergency," Shale uttered. "If we had known of your coming we would have warned you to reschedule." Veger's lip curled at the faint rebuke in her words, and then curled further when he recognized where Shale brought him.

With lips pressed together Veger gripped his cane tightly in one hand and stopped in front of the door Shale led him to. He turned on heel and looked at her, gaze stony. "Where is Seem."

Shale dipped her head. "Young Master Seem at this moment is overseeing the Emergency. I apologize, Master Veger. She is not anticipated to return for some time." Shale gestured toward the door. "You may rest here, for now. I must return to oversee the Acolytes who are taking inventory at this time."

Veger fought the urge to snarl, and instead said tightly, "I did not travel alone," before Shale could take leave of him. This brought the Elder short, and she looked to Veger almost surprised. "I require Seem's presence. Immediately."

"I am sorry, Master Veger, but Seem is not within the Sanctuary," Shale said, words short. "Who is this companion of yours and where have you left them? The Sands are not safe, right now."

Veger waved a hand. "I know that thunder season is upon us but I hardly consider that a threat--"

"There was a quake," Shale interrupted. She gestured to the mess around them. "As you can see we too have suffered some structural concerns. We were not the only ones hurt. The Sands are not safe, Master Veger. Who is your guest?"

A quake--Veger tightened his grip. There hadn't been any quake in the desert in decades. Not since the volcano had settled into some manner of slumber before Veger had even been born. The ground didn't even suffer from any sort of fault lines like those seen closer to the Brink shrouded in mist as that area of the world was. Veger sucked in a deep breath and relaxed his stance slightly; if this were truly some form of quake then no doubt Seem would be in the right middle of it, with Damas at the helm for whatever mess surrounded them. Veger didn't want to bother with Damas, which meant he'd be forced to wait until whatever business the girl hand concluded, as much as it irritated him to do so.

"I have brought Mother," Veger said, words light. "She waits in the shade outside."

Shale, conversely, went stiff with Veger's words. "Prophet Onin?" Shale questioned. "You brought her here?"

Veger pursed his lips. "I said I require Seem. Now do you understand why?"

Shale scrutinized him, then closed her eyes with a heavy breath. "Very well. Please wait here Master Veger and I shall receive the Prophet. A missive will be sent to Young Master Seem at the earliest convenience. For your safety I ask that you do not leave the apartments."

Veger inclined his head in agreement. A moment longer of staring at one another and then Shale turned on silent feet and left. Veger watched her until she turned the corner, and then let his gaze linger upon the door in front of him. His hands clasped the head of his cane tightly in an effort to still them as he stared at the nameplate upon the door, the one that signaled the owner of these apartments.

Jetta ; Nimat

Veger closed his eyes and breathed to steady himself before he pressed the door open. He expected a fine layer of dust; it had been years after all since he last visited this place. He had no desire to relive the memories here, so he often kept his visits brief when he came to the temple and the Sanctuary. Yet the counters were clean, not a speck of dust in sight. The entire space was kept as it was when Veger had last stepped foot into the apartments--including the glass on the counter, although no water filled it now, and Veger noted it had been shaken out of place.

The cane in his hand Veger settled into the small stand by the door once he picked it back up from where it had fallen. He shrugged his coat off and slipped it onto the coatrack as he stepped further into the apartments that he once spent so much time in. He ran his fingers along the couch, an old thing he'd brought with him from Haven once. It's color had faded, and there were more signs of wear on it for not having been used in nearly a decade. Mothflies, Veger figured given the few holes in the fabric. He stepped around the couch and looked to one of the doors that led to a further room. After a second Veger turned his head away.

He lacked the desire to see that old room, for now. All it would do is to serve as a reminder of times he'd rather kept behind him as much as possible. Seem was plenty enough of a reminder for Veger these days; her face in that heart shape that he once knew so well. Veger shook his head and shuttered the thoughts and memories. Jetta was gone. He didn't need to delve into the past again, even if here all it did was stare at him in his face.

"I do not like this," Seem said in a rasp as she watched Damas gather together an offering for the Clans and Chieftain Aermsmin.

Damas shook his head and uttered softly, "If Aermsmin has asked for me, after everything, I will honor his request." Damas knew how the Clans viewed him. They had their reasons to deny him, and to deny Spargus both. The tensions between Spargans and the Clans were an older thing, and Damas knew his own presence and his family bloodline certainly hadn't made things any better. Aermsmin had been kind, for a given meaning of the word, once in the early days of Damas' time in the desert wasteland. At least until Sia and Sig came into his life.

"The Clans are not known for their understanding," Seem pointed out. "You have not been a part of talks as far as my memory holds, Lord Damas."

"For good reason, I assure you," Damas said wryly. His shoulder burned with the painful memory of the last time he saw Aermsmin and the Clans.

From his corner of the room Talin rolled his eyes. "We shared drink, Master Seem. Aermsmin will honor truce for this meeting, no matter what bad blood is between the Clans and Spargus." Seem pursed her lips, but she knew when she was outnumbered.

"Master Talin," Damas gestured for Talin to come over and look at what he had gathered. "Anything here that might offend?"

Talin walked over and looked at the gathered items, then carefully sectioned out the few Spargan beacons that were scattered on the table, set aside the chip marked water and another chip marked medical supplies and tapped one chip that was marked with cactus wine.

"This will be your best option," Talin said. "Cactus Wine is easy enough for both sides to acquire if they so wish, and so will not be seen as an insult to provide. Instead it offers a drink to bind agreements, and you bringing it would show your willingness to bend to those agreements." Talin glanced up at Damas and licked his lips. "I know the Clans do not look favorably upon you."

"Yes," Damas said rather bluntly. "I am aware of the moniker that...Aermsmin has taken to calling me." He huffed a sort of bitter laugh. "Deceiver, isn't it?"

Talin ducked his head. "Yes, sir." He breathed out. "While I can see your other offers are meant in good faith, providing water, food, or medical supplies without the Chieftain discussing it with you can be seen as insult and flaunting wealth. There is enough bad blood between Spargus and the Clans that it would be better not to perpetuate more. If the Chieftain relays the need of the Clans for such, then you can bring these items to the table." Talin touched lightly on the chips, and then moved to the chip marked for Spargus beacons. "As for the beacons..."

"I offer them in good faith," Damas said. "I know Aermsmin has family."

"Yes." Talin looked at the beacon with a complicated gaze, brow furrowed and lips pressed together as he thought. "The Clans have...very different views about their people and safety. We--they--are trained to handle the desert and Her Gifts--the difficulties within. Since there is typically no stable camp, and the Clans move based upon the winds and the shifting of the sands, they need to be hardy. If one dies, it is either their time, or their failing at survival. To ask for help..." Talin bit his lip for a second and then shook his head. "If you need help, then you are not ready and should not have gone in the first place. Your failing is your own."

"He will not accept the beacons, then?" Damas questioned quietly. "Not even for you?"

Talin touched the chip, and then pushed it away. "I would rather he didn't." In silence Damas took the chip and handed it over to Dag, then pocketed the remaining chips for aid and picked up the chip of cactus wine.

"Dag," Damas said, and Dag tilted his head. "How quickly can we get some Cactus Wine?"

Dag cocked his head to the opposite side and ran some quick calculations in his head. "An hour or so, I think. We have some stored in the wine cellar, if I'm not mistaken. Do you want me to ask Sia to grab some?"

"No," Damas shook his head. "I'll call my wife myself." With a heavy breath Damas stepped away from the table and pulled out his communicator. He stepped out of the tent and into the desert heat and flicked through files and names until he landed upon Sia's contact information. For a moment Damas walked through camp, communicator in hand as he tapped it against his palm, lips pressed in thought. He reached the edge of the camp and looked at her contact name again, for a moment, hovered over the call button--and then flicked his thumb and changed it to Sig last moment.

You're stalling, Damas berated himself silently as the communicator beeped steadily in an attempt to reach Sig. Why bother stalling? It isn't as if she won't receive you.

Damas chewed on his lip and began to pace. Would she, though? he wondered. How long had it been since he'd honestly looked upon Sia, since they'd spoken? She'd cloistered herself away almost a year ago now; silence permeated their home between them like a rift--the reason souring the distance between them, embittering any sort of communication they might've had. Damas clenched the communicator tight and grit his teeth at the thought--Mar, his sweet child, gone for a year and a half now.

Static crackled through the communicator, a faint squeal, and then hazy and nearly masked by interference Damas heard, "Damas?" in what he guessed were Sig's dulcet tones. Damas slouched against a stone and sighed heavily.

"Sig," Damas said tiredly. "Do you have any news for me?"

For a moment the interference cut across the communicator, and then Sig's voice cut back in. Half of the words he said were lost, but what little Damas could hear had his lips pressed thin and downward into thought. "not--little Mar--commu--embargo."

"The fuck is Brandon doing?" Damas ground through his teeth. "A communications embargo....?"

"--dead--" more static and a squeal of interference cut through Sig's words. "--Kor--city atta--" Damas rubbed at his face, let the partial words and quarter sentences wash over him while he thought. "--wrecked--restor--work--by--King." Damas straightened at the last word as Sig went silent.

"That title belongs to my House," Damas said, words soft, brow furrowed. "Who..."

"--looks like you," Sig said, half sentence gone but enough to make Damas still completely. He could take a guess at the words, but it still left him just a bit on the edge of breathless as he uttered a faint, "Mar?"

"No," Sig said, clearest he'd been so far. "Not--" More static cut across and then a short squeal and half of the word 'teenager' came through, enough to tell Damas that either there was a bastard line out there, or something worse. Damas didn't want to think about what that something worse could even be. What it also told Damas was that there was still no sign of his missing son, a son he'd been certain stolen to Haven. Damas hand shook and he bowed his head.

Perhaps Sia was right to mourn, Damas thought. Maybe it was time to admit to a truth he dared not believe. His hands clenched tight over the communicator and he murmured a short thanks to Sig before he cut off communication. The Wastelander would contact him when he had a better connection, if only to make sure Damas hadn't gone and done something stupid given the abrupt disconnection. Damas stared at the device, thumbed Sia's name, and before he could trick himself into calling someone else he pushed the button to connect.

Sia picked up immediately, but she did not speak. Damas didn't for a moment either; they both just listened to the sound of their own breathing through the tinny quality of the communicator--and then Damas sighed, heavy with words he couldn't say--thoughts he couldn't name. Instead Damas said a soft, "Love," to Sia, filled with everything he felt and everything he could not let himself being of House Mar.

On the other side of the communicator, Sia sighed in response. A softer, quieter, "Love," was given back to him and Damas had to fight back the sudden burning in his heart, the pain in his eyes, and the way his breath wanted to hitch. Right now there were other things he had to focus on--things to keep his people safe from the dangers below their feet. Right now it would have to be enough. They would speak once the crisis had been handled. Sia deserved that much.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Jak and Daxter Thursday Part 2

(As promised, the Less Angsty Part.)

The onlookers all seemed to think Jak had slipped out of the Precursor craft at the last moment. That was just fine with him: it meant no one had seen him teleport out, carrying Damas into the tower. Leaving him there had been terrifying -- even if the monks in the Convalescence Ward had believed him to be a Precursor himself, and vowed to care for Damas with a reverence that made him sick, it was hard to trust his father's care to others. But he had appearances to keep up, just as his other self had warned him. All he could do was focus on his next steps.

Sig had taken the throne as interim regent in Jak’s place, as while he was more than capable of satisfying the battle requirements of a Spargan king, he wasn't yet of age. That was a mercy, but Jak knew Sig loathed the role. Damas had been like an elder brother to him from the moment he staggered through the gates of Spargus seeking refuge. Sitting in his place felt as wrong for him as it did for Jak.

Jak turned a tired smile to Daxter, who met it with a knowing look. Tess raised her brows at Daxter, but he tiptoed to whisper in her ear that he'd explain later. Jak clapped a hand to Keira's shoulder in camaraderie as he passed, and she returned it in kind with a light squeeze.

There was a pain in her eyes Jak remembered too well. Everything had come out in bits and pieces from the moment Haven had traded Jak to Damas, and Keira almost regretted digging for answers. Learning that a beloved parent was capable of such thoughtless cruelty to someone else's child "for the greater good"- well. They'd had their fights, but Jak wouldn't have wished that feeling on her even if she'd joined the Krimzon Guard.

"J- sorry, Mar."

Jak managed a bittersweet smile. "For you, I can still be Jak."

Keira bit her lip and looked skyward for a moment, blinking rapidly until she had her facial expression under control.

"...okay. Jak, I'm...I'm going to denounce him. To think that all that time, he knew- I. I don't think I'll ever- it's like I woke up and someone replaced my dad with a complete stranger."

"We never blamed you for any of it," Jak answered earnestly. "Spargus won't hold it against you if you don't denounce him. We all answer for our own choices."

Keira blinked hard again, and nodded. "And this is my choice. I'm choosing you and Daxter this time. Like I wish I had before."

Jak reached up to squeeze her hand. "...thanks, Keira. We...I missed you."

"I missed you too, Jak." Keira let go to fold her arms across her middle. "Can we start over?"

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Jak nodded. "I- yeah- yeah we- that sounds good."

Keira offered a wan smile, then let him go. It felt like torture, climbing the last few platforms to the balcony. Sig was there, but so was Samos. And so was Onin. And while Jak knew they were only there because Sig wanted them within firing range if they tried something, it made him hesitant to continue forward. He didn't want to be anywhere near the people who had known about Veger's plot and blithely co-opted it for their own uses.

"Jak, m'boy! Well done!" Samos chortled merrily, wearing that grandfatherly air Jak had always fallen for before.

Not anymore.

"I'm not "your" anything." Jak stepped past him in a hurry. He didn't trust himself not to snap if he remained within arm's reach of the sage.

Sig rose from the throne and held an arm out to him with an understanding look.

"Mar," he said softly.

He clasped arms with Jak, and nodded solemnly.

"I'm proud of you, kid. Your- Your father would be proud."

"He is," Jak answered softly. Then he pulled Sig down to his level by the shoulder to whisper in his ear, "Dax is going to take over the diplomacy stuff down here. Meet me in the C-Ward upstairs."

Sig straightened and frowned down at him. "What'd you do, cherry?" he murmured.

The smirk Jak gave him in reply was so grim he could have sworn it was Damas who stood before him once more.

"I shaped my own fate, like my father taught me."

For a long time, Sig just looked at him. Then he shook his head. "Boy, if I didn't already know you did impossible things-"

The Convalescence Ward was a hive of activity the instant Jak stepped through the door. He frowned. The light eco should have rewound the crushed bones and organs almost perfectly! Doubtless his father would be sore a while, and Jak hadn't been able to fully repair the broken leg before running out of eco, but that wouldn't warrant this much fuss, would it? He opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, and a senior monk rushed to him.

"Young prince! Your father-! He- he-!"

Irrational thought it was, anxiety twisted in Jak’s stomach. "What about my father? What are you talking about?"

The old woman took him by the hand, a slightly disturbed awe wavering in her voice.

"He lives! Your father lives, Mar!"

Relief washed over him, and with it, the events of the last 48 hours that he'd been shoving to one side.

"Let me see him," he said urgently.

"I...must warn you first, Mar," the monk cautioned, and Jak's stomach flipped again.

"He is...changed. The Precursors returned him from the edge of death -- by hand! No mortal can experience such a thing and remain unaltered."

Ah. Just the normal "Mystical Whooo Crap", as Pecker called it.

"I've seen that kind of thing before. I'm not afraid," Jak assured the monk. "Please. Just take me to him, Ruma."

Damas was awake now -- he hadn't been when Jak had seen him last. One leg -- the still broken one -- lay propped up where monks could splint it. Dark blue shapes twisted and curled under the skin, as if lights were shooting through his veins. The rest of him looked strangely normal for having just been yanked back from the edge of death. The monks not splinting his leg quickly backed away from the bed as Jak approached.

It had worked. The timeline was closed now, and Damas lived.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Jak dropped to sit in a heap on the edge of the cot. He fumbled for Damas’s hand and held it to his chest as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're here," he croaked.

"I'm here," Damas repeated, almost confused. Then his face split into a wide smile. "I'm here."

Jak blinked. Something wasn't quite right about his father's face. Something about his eyes was a little brighter than he recalled. And the teeth...Too many? Too few? Too sharp? His mind couldn't decide for a few seconds before the bones in question seemed to settle into a fairly standard -- if unusually sharp -- set of human teeth.

A memory of his own face, saturated with both light and dark eco, rose to Jak’s mind, and an uncomfortable thought followed on its heels.

Had he altered his father's physical form by healing him in the Precursor craft?

Further speculation was cut short when Damas pulled his hand free to tap playfully against Jak’s cheek.

"You once pushed a chair in front of the door -- a toddler's chair, mind you now -- because you thought it would keep me from going to work without you. You never could stand being left behind, could you?"

He sounded like he wasn't certain whether he was more amused or annoyed.

So much pain, so much loss, and here they all were at the end of it all, still standing. So to speak. The exhilaration of not being the only one left to tell the tale filled him with a heady feeling he would later come to recognize as joy.

With a giddy laugh, Jak threw himself forward and into Damas’s chest.

"We did it!" he crowed, "We did it, we did it!"

Damas’s arms folded over his back, and his chest vibrated with a soft chuckle.

"So it would seem! Though how I'm to explain this, I'm not certain."

"So just don't explain," Jak snorted, "and let them come to their own conclusions."

He ducked away from the hand tweaking his ear with a laugh.

"And let someone start some crackpot theory about our already bizarre bloodline?" Damas feigned offense. "That sounds like a terrible idea!"

"Terribly clever, I agree."

Damas lightly thumped Jak over the head. "Impudent little- When I get out of this cast, I oughta-"

Finally seeing an opportunity, a monk gracefully interrupted. "My lord, your leg requires time and watchfulness to heal correctly. You must leave it immobile for at least two weeks until we know what the eco is doing in your bloodstream."

She turned and nodded respectfully to Jak. "I trust you will keep the injury well tended-to?"

Jak slid over to occupy the space between Damas and the small nightstand. He leaned back against the wall beside his father and nodded back.

"Don't worry, he's not going anywhere. I'll make sure of that."

"This is elder abuse," Damas complained, just as lighthearted and almost giddy as his son. "You can't make me stay in bed! That's mutiny!"

"No," Jak retorted with a broad grin, "That's what happens when Sig gets here and finds out you're alive!"

"Argh, you're right!" Damas slipped an arm around Jak’s neck in half a hug, half a headlock. "And then I'd have to contend with Daxter!"

Jak gently poked Damas in the side with a smug grin. "Daxter? No no, Tess is the one you should be afraid of."

Damas flung his other hand into the air in mock exasperation. "Rot me, it's a conspiracy! I'm outnumbered!"

When the monks had finally taken the hint to leave the pair alone to catch up, Damas sobered slightly. "You know we'll probably have to make a plan for if the Precursors choose to retaliate for this."

Jak's eyes danced with mischief. "What're they gonna do without their technology? They're as powerless as Veger!"

Damas raised a brow -- no, Jak hadn't imagined it, there was something weird about his eyes now. The pupils weren't supposed to have little points of light like stars, were they? Not for humans.

"Alright cub, what did you do?"

"What did Daxter do," Jak corrected, deciding to deal with the possibility of his father gaining a Light Form later. "He confiscated the old one's staff, and then made them drop the ship with the Precursor we hatched from the Stone last year. Because they weren't being responsible with time and space."

Considering the young Precursor had been sitting on the beach that would one day hold Sandover Village, happily building elaborate sandcastles in lieu of blueprints, Jak had a feeling the new owner of the time machine would have fewer agendas to push. And given how the glowing being had greeted them as "My friend Mar" and "little Scout-brother", perhaps subsequent timelines would be kinder to his family. The other ottsels' horror and chagrin boded well, anyway.

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They're Your Bodyguards (Royalty x Knight AU Part #2)

𖠁 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

❦ Based off this hc I had written a while back

Price

He upholds his noble promises, he wouldn't ever dare to wander too close into your life

With every string tugging at his heart, he restrains the overwhelming feelings, he remembers the oaths he's made

To keep in this way was dancing death's waltz

Oh, but your soft silhouette blending in the foliage with the aura of golden sun was refreshing like morning dew, how is it possible for the human heart to long for something it has never had? We dream of a haven, but is there hardly one on this earth?

He longs to have what is restricted, maybe what has been out of reach has always appealed to us, since children we want what is above us, as young people we crave what makes us feel alive, and in our limited existence we continue to search for it

It was all forsaken; what was left unsaid, the silent sentiment, the shared glances that were neither given nor taken, for nothing was accidental nor hidden between the both of you... only guarded

Ghost

Here is another fool, one who thinks love is a controlled emotion, have pity on him!

The only salvation he can be found guilty of on base of selfishness is imagining you imagining him, secretly he loses himself in fantasies of a future that can never be

He hath nothing but muted passion for you

And from the silence, is it possible to determine the outcome? It does nothing more but to hurt one's feelings, does the bearer more hurt than partaking in improper fantasies, for it is all in vain and a reaching for and grasping at the wind

In the end the happiest fool is miserable, the most disciplined king conquers nothing, and the bravest knight afraid of battle

What pain for nothing!

Soap

Not a word from your lips heard, not a touch felt nor a sensation given, but those eyes speak for the entire soul

This story doesn't have to be a tragedy, because no matter what it will never end the way everybody wants it to, "vivamus, moriendum est", but you'll let yourselves live blissfully

Nothing can stifle his silent joy, his merry face goes about all day desirous of crushing you with a million acts of affection

The mindless dialogue he recites, staring off into nothing as he finds your capricious eyes shining like a glow the lake flashes at the evening sun

He'll find beauty in your entire being and relate it to things because if one day, you find each other a long way off, the sentiment will remain and the earth will remember you and remind him

Gaz

What's forbidden only makes the temptation greater, hm?

With such yearning and softening of his eyes does he gaze at you, it's a feeling that's so heavy and present in the air it's impossible to ignore, an energy only igniting between you both

He's engulfed in dreams of what could be, but surely it's not all just a figment of his imagination, to a certain point you mirror his thoughts

The emotions that won't stop growing rise to the surface and threaten to breakthrough, ruining his discipline, yet are always present and showing through every act and small interaction with you

The brushing against one another, the whispers that want to turn into screams, the heart begging to be let out

Roach

It had been dawning on him, a premonition of sorts in the air since he started serving your family, as if it was destined to happen

Now as he gazes up at you from his head lying on your lap, your bodies hidden from view by the tall hedges and vines in the garden, he almost melts at the sight of you

Even if the weather isn't favorable, you walk hand in hand, free of worries for an evening or night, it feels as if the sky could be never-changing and the circumstance always right

And as he reflects back on this years later, he remembers it fondly, though now gone and far away from one another, he gathers these memories and wonders if there was no ending to it, would you two have kept laughing innocently?

He would let your name slip from his lips one last time as if calling you softly into the fading sunlight

Alejandro

Every time you cross paths after meeting and loving in secret it is like the morning after a heavy torrent of rain, you cannot hide the smiles breaking out onto your faces, nor the fidgeting of hands wanting to embrace each other

An impulse so strong that it can barely be contained when he gazes deep within your cherub eyes, your lashes fluttering as the shimmering sunlight reflects on water, this scene all too perfect

Curiously, he will gaze at you and construct the most beautiful verses he seriously believes he would have made a great poet

You're everything he's held dear, not only does he love tenderly but deeply, you hit every feeling spot within him unveiling a new world

Rudy

Oh, but he's so respectful, so contained, so true to his word, until he finds himself alone in your chambers, faced with an order he has the right to deny or be a little selfish

For once he is given choice and it is difficult to remember his priorities

How could he deny? When you're murmuring so softly, and you're welcoming him so well, making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter even if it's a false feeling only for a little while

He'll cherish that moment for a lifetime, because for once he's known what heaven feels like, smiling easier and more often

His mind drifting back to you, you're unforgettable, not just a fleeting moment but an experience

Phillip Graves

He looks curiously at what is before him; the kingdom's precious flower, and as he gazes he becomes entranced in a thread that with time will become too hard to be undone by a single pull

It starts out as a foolish act but soon grows into much more, but was he ready for what came with it? The yearning, the sensitivity and vulnerability he was exposing himself to?

With every look that gained new meaning and lost their playfulness, you became all too attached and duty no longer was first

Perhaps this was the beginning of your descent, your spiraling into doom and recklessness, crumbling and giving in to your heart who beats so wildly only once in this ephemeral sentiment

Makarov

The repetitive phrase that leaves your lips every time, "we can't do this" or "we shouldn't", always the regret setting in after saying you've let go

And frankly, he doesn't care nor does he care whether you completely let go of it or not, it'll be your stone to carry, not his

Just feel the pull between you, focus on the fact that you're in his arms right now, your royal attire loosely around your shoulders and your worries and responsibilities should be a mile off by now

Concentrate on what you feel, he's trying to remind you, there is nothing selfish in enjoying the sensations for a little while

Or is he trying to put his conscience at ease with these words he tells you? What a reflection of his soul they are, and what truth do they carry

Keegan

You find him deeply captivating and intriguing, you feel bad for having so much curiosity for him

In a room full of people and yet you always wonder if he's there among the crowd, and with so much noise in the world does he stop and listen for your voice?

So dreamlike were these short moments of delight it must've been a dream, you met only at midnight behind heavy velvet curtains that obscured all light

You could only feel with your fingertips and hear soft murmurs that you tried to memorize, you would later pray in your tucked corner of the room, whispering softly into your blankets that it was real

Someone felt for you and the memories had really happened

König

The brooding figure that wishes he had the privilege of learning about you without repercussions, without that nagging thought of it coming back to bite at him

To color in the blank spaces of unknown, wishing to reside in the intimacy of your heart and mind, to navigate what is familiar

The blossoming interest in you reflecting in his eyes, making you feel a strange sense of safety when with him, a calming feeling that you welcome too well when in his presence you find rare to recreate when alone

Not even castle walls could grant as much security as he could, they were old and empty, standing many years and guarding many families before you, it was only a false sense of security that had been handed down to you

But he, he was your own, your own to cherish and love for now and even if his love wasn't a family heirloom to pass down maybe that was fine, let yourself hold this selfishness close to your chest

Horangi

A gambling game he is playing, it's as if he has a thing for chasing after what is not secure nor certain, but that's what makes it appealing

He doesn't stick much to rules, if he does it's only for a short time until he finds his own way of doing things, he was never concerned with playing the game fair

So he's not hesitant nor does he shy from trying risky things with you, it's all a game to him

The momentum only increasing as the stakes rise and he finds himself almost tying his fate to you, wanting for once in his life a secure future he can be sure to have, to reach out for and receive

Nikto

The craving for something different and rattling came to you when you discovered his tarnished past

It was so different to what you knew, and maybe it was in that darkness and chaos that you found comfort, a world you wanted him to share with you, more intimate than any touch

More erotic and through-provoking were his shards of soul revealed to you than an affair, and his growing confusion at how easily he shared parts of him with you

A hidden memory arising from the depths of his mind, trying to show him how comforting it felt to be perceived for what you were, he wanted to indulge in it a little longer each time

He knew his desires and dreams wouldn't change a thing in his life, but this peace freed him from the chains that had been weighing heavy, he felt lighter and allowed himself to long for someone

[dewdropdinosaur]

Redemption is Best Served Hot

LUCIFER x READER Part Two Summary: You are like the mom Charlie always wanted. And like the partner Lucifer wishes he had. Warnings: NONE. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! See pinned post for details

In the bustling underworld of Hell, where chaos and mayhem were the order of the day, there stood a peculiar establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel. Run by the optimistic and determined demon princess, Charlie, the hotel aimed to rehabilitate wayward souls and give them a chance at Heaven. 

You, an older demon, found yourself entangled in the unique tapestry of the Hazbin Hotel. Drawn to Charlie's mission and warmth, you had become an essential part of the hotel's daily operations. As the pseudo-mother to Charlie and the other inhabitants, Y/N provided a sense of stability and care in the tumultuous underworld. A pillar of support for the lost souls seeking refuge within the hotel's walls, helping with the cleaning, aiding anyone with anything; you were in fact quite literally acting mother to all six inhabitants. Not that they minded, each loved you in their own way. Even Alastor, who would not admit it to himself that maybe your cooking could have rivaled his own mother’s.

“Nifty darling, here. Don’t run around with that old knife. This one is much sharper.” “Oooooo, thank you! BUGS PREPARE TO DIE!”

“Angel, poor thing. Come here, let me draw you a bath and we can talk all about it….or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you would like.” “Yeah…that woulds be good.” 

“The new shipment just arrived, Husk! Do you want me to help you carry it in?” “Nah, I got it. But thanks.”

“PENTIOUS! What did I say about letting the Egg Bois into my kitchen?!”  “Sssssory Mssss Y/N.”  “It’s alright dear, just…please be more mindful of them. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Vaggie, no you may not kill Alastor.” “But..!” “No buts! You will respect Charlie’s wishes. And that goes for you too, Alastor.” “Oh me? Darling, it would be a pleasure to do as her highness commands.” 

And so on and so forth as the world goes. 

Over the years, Lucifer, the charismatic and charming ruler of Hell, found himself increasingly drawn to you after the original spout with Heaven. It wasn't just your unparalleled dedication to the hotel or the unwavering support you offered to Charlie; it was a magnetic force that pulled him towards you. Lucifer, accustomed to the chaos and seduction that surrounded him, found the calm demeanor and genuine kindness irresistible. In the dimly lit chambers of the hotel, Lucifer found himself captivated by your unwavering dedication and boundless compassion. He admired the way you effortlessly navigated the tumultuous currents of Hell, offering solace to those who had long abandoned hope. 

One evening, as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel gathered for a makeshift family dinner, Lucifer couldn't help but steal glances at you throughout. Laughter echoed through the room, bringing an unusual warmth to the usually cold and unforgiving realm. Lucifer found himself captivated by the way you effortlessly connected with the diverse souls seeking salvation and he felt his heart twinge a little. The scene was sweet, almost too much so. It made him long for something he had never had with Lillith or thought he could ever have. He hardly touched his food all night, too enthralled with you and your presence. You were like an angel, ironically so. 

After the meal and asking the Egg Bois to clean up(they were kind enough to oblige), you retreated to the hotel's back rooms with a book in hand, a haven of peace in the chaotic underworld. Lucifer followed, the air thick with an unspoken tension. You, engrossed in a book, hadn't bothered to notice the King of Hell until he cleared his throat. With a small flush of embarrassment at accidentally ignoring him, you looked up and met Lucifer's piercing gaze with a soft smile, setting your book aside. 

“What can I do for you Lucifer?”

"Quite the family you've built here," Lucifer commented, his voice a silky blend of charm and authority.

Smiling and setting the book aside, you laughed softly. "They're a unique bunch, but they deserve a chance at redemption, don't they?"

Lucifer nodded, taking a step closer. "And what about you, Y/N?” 

Your gaze met Lucifer's, eyes reflecting a depth of understanding about the true meaning of his question. "We're all seeking something, aren't we? Redemption, forgiveness, a second chance."

Lucifer reached out, gently tracing a finger along Y/N's cheek. "And what do you seek, Y/N?"

Your  heart fluttered, and as you took a deep breath you held his gaze. Oh how he loved that dazed look in your eyes. He wanted you to look up at him that way everyday if possible. Just the way your sparkling and your lips parted so sinfully sweet, he knew even the original sin barrer himself could be tempted. "I seek a chance to make a difference, to maybe bring a little of Heaven down here when I could never do it when I was alive."

Lucifer leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Perhaps you've already brought light to the darkest corner of my realm."

Lucifer then pulled away, a small flush gracing his cheeks. He tipped his hat in acknowledgement before leaving the room without another word. Once outside the door, Lucifer pressed back up against a wall and could feel his undead heart about to beat out of his chest. Placing a hand over his chest in order to calm himself back down, the King of Hell flew back to his castle with a giant grin on his face. 

You too were no stranger to the effects of his…flirting. A giant grin and flush appeared on your face as you sunk back down into the chair you were sitting in. Giggling like a schoolgirl, you kicked your feet happily and ignored the book you were once reading. 

A forbidden connection sparked between Lucifer and you, a dance of redemption and desire in the heart of Hell, where the Hazbin Hotel stood as an peculiar beacon of hope. For in the heart of Lucifer Morningstar, amidst the chaos of Hell's domain, love had found its most unlikely champion.

[mailontumb]

HC for the LSSMP!☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Spoke and Minute are definitely siblings or half siblings

Bacon and Planet likes to kidnap their friends to surprise them for their surprise birthday party

Rek met Branzy during Childhood and is really close friends and never once lied or try to keep things away from each other

Clown and Kab ARE DEFINITELY SIBLINGS. LIKE HOW ARE THEY NOT (it could be like half or step siblings)

Zam is the Dance king

Pangi likes hanging out with Zam cus he is the only one who understands him

Derapchu takes pictures of everyone's feet and sells it to the internet

Jumper is half Bunny

Squiddo learned how to glitch after asking ash to teach her

Ash secretly has a picture of people he likes in his Glitch Room

Red HATES tomatoes as everyone compared him to one

The reason Chief is grey is because he Might've painted himself grey or just have stone genetics

Although Mid has multiple of the exact same hoodie but she is a MASTER designer

Clown kidnapped Branzy for their first date

Oh and Kab often comes to Clowns date cus their mom said so

Flame found Mane terrorizing people and thought "I relate to bro" and became bestie ever since

Parrot can communicate with any bird but Owl cus it scares him

EVERYONE but rek HAS SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMONS

Rek doesn't have SPD cus he over thinks that his base is trapped and the Monster felt really bad haunting him

Oh yea The SPD is worse on Derapchu cus he once took a picture of the Demon's feet and it got really offended

Hanna knows EVERYONE's Secrets (she was the first person who knows about Clownzy after accidentally trying to gamble at the casino)

Cookie God is the LSSMP God too but he barely takes care of the place cus he trusts the listener to take care of it

Rek sprays people with water if they cuss in his video

1 time Vortex challenge Vitalasy and Jeppexx to a Lemon eating competition, Vitalasy won at 150 lemons in 30 minutes

Vortext is often offline but when he is online every makes it a celebration

The LSSMP have their own birthday but Ro doesn't as he was an escaped Watcher

Watchers Can't interact with LSSMP only the listeners can, so that makes LSSMP a safe haven for all those who are running away from the watchers

Hanna ran away from the Watchers 5 TIMES with each attempts getting harder and harder

Only 5 people knows about the situation of LSSMP that being G,P,M,Ro and Hanna, 3 of which tried to escape &only 2 made it the other one was returned back to the watchers and was punished

Mr cube can do a double backflip and likes tea parties!

4cvit is the reason why child labor exists

Someone mistaken SB for a penguin and called animal control,which they grabbed him and sent him back to the icy pole, parrot came and took him back

Leo REALLY likes gold and even tried to marry a golden statue

Pentar only ever have 1 shirt and tries to revive it every time it's torn

Speptical was the one who married Clown and Branzy, Rek,Leo,Minute,Kab,Jumper and Jaron being witnesses

Jaron solves many mysteries but also makes many more of them

Woogie had the same situation as SB but instead of anyone saving him he just visited his parents and traveled back to the LSSMP

Wemmbu escaped hell twice, so he is put on a watch list with clown

Also wemmbu ate his jail cell's bar and escaped with Zam

Mappic is left handed and likes playing arm wrestling with people

Poafa is a cloud, meaning he can fly and turn into a cloud

People often wonder where terrain lives but never tried to search

Branzy's bloodline is the apart of the watchers making ash half watcher and demon <- (cus of clown)

⁠━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ⁠━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ⁠━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ⁠━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ⁠━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*

｡⁠:ﾟI'll be back for more 😼😼! Lelele ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

[wonderlanddreamer]

The Rook

— Chapter One

Summary: Reeling from a recent loss and seeing no light at the end of the tunnel, Tommy drives with no end in sight. But what happens when he accidentally happens upon a quiet little pub and a barmaid with a smile like sunshine?

The biting wind whipped at Tommy Shelby’s coat, offering little protection against the icy despair that gnawed at his soul. Birmingham, usually a city pulsating with his ambition, felt suffocating. The weight of his decisions, the ghosts of his past, pressed down with the force of a collapsing mine shaft. He’d stared into the abyss, and it had stared back, promising oblivion – a welcome respite from the ceaseless turmoil.

He’d almost taken it. Almost yielded to the seductive whisper of darkness. The pistol, cold and heavy in his pocket, was a dreary reminder of how close he’d come. He’d driven aimlessly until the city lights faded, replaced by the inky blackness of the countryside.

Then, a single, flickering light emerged – a small, unassuming pub nestled beside a winding road. Its sign, barely visible in the gloom, read: The Rook. Curiosity, or perhaps a perverse instinct for self-preservation, compelled him to stop.

The building was low-slung and weathered, its stone walls stained by time. Mismatched window panes, steamed with condensation, hinted at warmth within, a contrast to the chill that permeated his bones. He hesitated, his hand instinctively resting on the pistol. The thought of seeking solace, of finding even a fleeting moment of peace, felt anomalous.

But bone-deep weariness, the crushing weight of his burdens, finally won. He pushed open the heavy oak door, the bell above it jingling a discordant welcome. The air inside was thick with the scent of stale beer, wood smoke, and something else… something indefinitely comforting.

A single barmaid, wiping down the counter with an expert hand, looked up. Rosemary King, with warm brown eyes and a kind smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, her name was embroidered on her apron in faded script. The bar itself was a rich, dark wood, polished to a high sheen, but cluttered with personal touches – a small vase of wildflowers, a framed sepia photograph weighted down by a miniature porcelain cat. Everything felt carefully tended, cherished, and loved.

The pub itself was small, cosy, radiating warmth and a sense of belonging. Mismatched chairs, some worn leather, others sturdy wood, were grouped around small, round tables, each bearing a unique chipped teacup or a faded photograph tucked into a cracked frame. The walls, painted a comforting cream, were adorned with family portraits – generations of smiling faces peering down from faded frames, a tapestry of lives lived and loved within these walls. A grandfather clock in the corner, its pendulum swinging rhythmically, ticked away the seconds. The scent wasn't just of woodsmoke and damp earth; a hint of baking bread and something sweet, perhaps apple pie, also lingered, enhancing the homely atmosphere. It felt less like a public house and more like a haven; a family's carefully kept secret.

Tommy pulled up a stool at the bar, the worn leather surprisingly soft beneath him, and stared straight forwards. He didn’t order anything, just sat, lost in the shadowy depths of his own thoughts, the warmth of the fire a meagre counterpoint to the storm raging within him.

“Evening,” the barmaid greeted, her voice as welcoming as her smile. “What can I get for you?”

“Whiskey. Neat,” Tommy replied gruffly, his tone sharper than intended. He wasn’t here for pleasantries.

She didn’t flinch at his brusqueness. Instead, she nodded and turned to retrieve a glass, her movements graceful and unhurried. “Coming right up,” she said, pouring the amber liquid with an expert hand. As she slid the glass towards him, she added, “Not many find their way to The Rook. You must be looking for some solace.”

Her perceptiveness startled Tommy. It was as if she saw right through the hardened exterior he wore like armour. “Something like that,” he muttered, taking a sip of the whiskey. It burned, but it was a welcome sensation—a reminder that he was still here, still feeling, despite the darkness that lingered at the edges of his mind.

Rosemary leaned against the bar, her demeanour open and unassuming, exuding a warmth that seemed to soften the sharp edges of the world. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. We’re not much for noise around here.”

For reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, Tommy found himself unwinding, if only slightly. Her presence was soothing, a gentle balm on his troubled mind. She seemed to offer a refuge, however temporary, from the turmoil within. “You been here long?” he asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of genuine curiosity.

“Long enough to know the regulars and their stories,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you’re new. What’s your story?”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw no judgement in her gaze—only an earnest interest that was both unnerving and oddly comforting. In her eyes, he saw a flicker of understanding, as if she recognized the weight he carried. “Just passing through,” he said, deflecting, as was his habit.

“Well, Mr. Passing Through, I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for,” Rosemary said, a hint of playfulness in her tone. There was no pressure in her words, only a gentle encouragement, as if she truly wished for his peace. She straightened up and moved to attend to another customer, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts and the unexpected warmth of her smile lingering in the air.

He sat for a long while, nursing his whiskey, the silence of The Rook a balm to his turbulent thoughts. Rosemary had checked on him twice, her kind smile a silent reassurance. He hadn't spoken much, but her presence, her quiet efficiency, had woven a thread of calm through the chaos within him. He couldn't articulate why, only that the pub's warmth had invaded him, a welcome intrusion he knew he'd need regularly.

He pushed himself up from his chair, the worn leather creaking a soft protest. He felt…lighter. The weight hadn’t vanished entirely, the ghosts of his past still whispered, but their voices were muted, dulled by the warmth he’d found within those four walls. The pistol, still heavy in his pocket, felt less like a solution and more like a forgotten burden.

He approached the bar, and Rosemary looked up, her brown eyes questioning. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, the gesture acknowledging her unspoken kindness. He placed a couple of shillings on the counter, more than the drink cost.

"Thank you," he rasped, his voice rough from disuse.

Rosemary smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that effortlessly reached her eyes. "Anytime."

Tommy stepped back out into the night, the cold air no longer biting, but bracing. The city lights in the distance no longer felt suffocating, but beckoned. He walked to his car, the decision to go home solidifying with each step. The Rook, and the unexpected peace he’d found there, had given him the strength he so desperately needed. He wasn't cured, not by a long shot, but the abyss had receded, at least for now, replaced by a faint, flickering hope. The drive home was quiet, the night a canvas of unshed shadows. He would face his problems; for tonight, home was enough.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Fluffy part 2 to this post

I'm posting early because @madigoround deserves it. I hope you enjoy love ❤️

As books get crossed off his list, Steve continues to add more.

They never skip a day. Even when Eddie’s sick, even when Steve’s sick, even when the kids are demanding their attention, Eddie reads to him.

Sometimes they sit on the couch at Steve’s house, sometimes they’re in Eddie’s bed, sometimes they’re by Steve’s pool, enjoying the cool evening air.

It doesn’t matter where they are, really. Anywhere Steve can listen to Eddie create a world with a story for him is a good place to be.

After a month, Steve’s head finds a permanent resting place in Eddie’s lap. Eddie’s hands would play with the small wavy hairs that tickled the back of his neck. It was peace.

It didn’t take long after that for Eddie to lean down and kiss Steve’s forehead or the tip of his nose between chapters, and for Steve to smile up at him with gratitude for giving him something he loved back. It was comfort.

Soon enough, reading would turn into make outs that turned into cuddling that turned into “no, just stay the night” that turned into cooking breakfast together. It was home.

They didn’t have an official anniversary, everything had been blurred lines and yearning, but they recognized when a year had passed from their first actual date. They’d gone to the largest bookstore in Indy, both surprising each other with books (even though Eddie would read them all), and giggling when they ended up leaving with enough books to start their own library. But Eddie knew what he was going to do.

He’d been working on it for a month.

It was perfect.

He’d been writing a book. Well, more like a journal.

Their story.

He was reading it to Steve tonight.

He’d left their names out of it, maybe dramatized a few things a bit, wanting to make it as much of a show as anything else he did.

So when Steve took his place with his head in his lap, Eddie’s fingers threading through his hair, he began.

He told the story of a king, lonely and putting on a brave face for his kingdom. The lowly medicine man who was cast away from society when one of his potions accidentally killed a woman of the court. The king protected him from punishment, and provided him a safe haven among the castle, forming a family among the servants and groundskeepers. As the medicine man learns more about the king, he falls deeply in love with him, but knows the king is set to marry a woman from a distant kingdom.

“But the medicine man stays. He’d rather have some of the king than nothing at all. He meets up with him in the castle library every night to read together…”

“Eds…”

Eddie looked down to see tears gathering in Steve’s eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“This is about us.”

Eddie smiled down at his king.

“Yes.”

Steve smiled up at his medicine man.

“You did this for me?”

“Of course I did. Our story is the greatest one I could ever tell you.”

They didn’t finish the story that night. But that was okay; they had a lifetime to add to it.

[franki-lew-yo]

An alt-universe's version of The Owl House's final season

"Thanks to Them" - Luz, Amity, Willow, Gus, Hunter and the Palismans get stuck in the human realm after King's heroic sacrifice. Luz properly meets Vee and reconciles with her mother.

"HalfWay House Noceda" - The Demon Realm kids attempt to make themselves 'useful' to Luz and Camilla by doing chores around the house even though their magic/skills are a bit more of a detriment. Meanwhile Luz shows Camilla some videos she took of Eda to prepare her for meeting the Owllady and King and Camilla is unnerved but also thrilled.

"Abduction of the Innocents" - Vee and Hunter have a heart to heart while everyone else pretends to like Camilla's and Luz’s favorite movies, except of course for Gus, who is inspired by the images on screen to really explore his illusion powers for Camilla. 

"Next to Nowhere" - Luz begins school again and ruminates over accidentally helping Philip, but her friend's determination help's her to keep going. Also Amity and Luz bond over Azura with Amity being able to tell Luz that she doesn’t like the Azura movies. 

"Kids of Gravesfield" - The other Palisman have been noticing Flapjack pacing around and both hiding something from the kids while also looking for someone. Luz and Hunter investigate a certain feeling they have around town while the rest of the gang heads to the Gravesfield Historical Society to get answers. Unbeknownst to everyone, Belos is amassing power and does something to Jacob Hopkins. 

"Season's Feedings" - On Halloween Night the kids learn the story of brothers’ Wittebane. Through this Luz regains some of her glyph magic by finding the portal Evelyn and Caleb originally used. Hunter gets possessed by Belos who kills Flapjack, but Hunter gets unpossessed. With just enough Titanblood to take them to the Demon Realm, Camilla joins the kids after Belos while Vee stays home to cover for them being missing.

"For the Future" - A look as to what our Demon Realm friends have been doing all this time; King keeps the Collector entertained, Lilith and Eda try and reach the immobilized citizens, and Hexside becomes a safe haven for the unconverted kids of the Boiling Isles. 

"Outside, Over Here" - The Collector, King and the Clawthorne sisters begin actually knowing Collector and bonding over his past - but things get interrupted by the Owl Beast and further interrupted by Lilith being puppet-ized for 'bad behavior'. Or, is it? Lilith, Hooty and the Owl Beast begin their own psyche-plotting within their inner mind and find a way to communicate with Eda and King despite still being puppets.

"Revenge of the Bad Girl Coven" - Just as it looks like Matholomule is coming into his own, Boscha decides she's taking over the remains of Hexside after her Grugby Team are turned into Puppets and two new students appear on campus.

"Watching and Dreaming" - Luz, Camilla and the crew return to the Boiling Isles and discover what's left of the Owl House and Hexside. They aren't alone, however, as Belos has also returned. 

"After All" - Amidst Boscha's reign of terror, Luz heads to the basement to recount her memories of Philip's shortcut to the head of the titan. The kids ultimately thwart Kikimora's takeover with the help of the Bat Queen though not before Willow finally looses her cool. Luz on the other hand finally meets her palisman, Stringbean. 

"The Brothers Wittebane" - Flashback episode that shows the complicated life of farmhand-turned Witch-husband Caleb Clawthorne and the brother he didn't mean to leave behind."

"Collector Says" - In an attempt to get more information on the archivists and what happened to the Titans, King and the Collector travel once again to the Titan Trappers, who listen to whatever the Collector says. Luz and Stringbean get separated from Camilla.

"How it shouldn't have Ended" - Luz, King and Eda all get reunited in an unconventional way while befriending Collector, while Belos makes a break for the Heart of the Titan to amas his final body.

"Inbetweens" - Belos' uses various hosts to get to the Titan's body which he takes over and starts destroying the Boiling Isles in his wake, but also leaving behind the now-mobilized hosts (Covenheads, Raine, harpy-Lilith) who each help Eda, Luz, King and Collector get to Belos from the inside out. Luz jumps in the way of the Collector being killed and appears to die herself, setting off Eda and King.

"Now Eat this SUCKAAH" - The puppet-ized kids regain their consciousness and begin fighting back and freeing the others under the Collector's spell. Luz wakes up in the in between realm and is helped out by King's dad in finding a way to get out and defeat Belos using the magic of the Titan. In the end Belos melts in the boiling rain and the Collector thanks everyone and goes to confront his family.

"Gone Bygones" - Peek into a bright, Belos-less future for all the characters.

Upside of this alt reality = proper Gus and Willow development, resolution to the Batqueen, actually seeing Caleb and Evelyn andbeebybaby Belos, an answer as to who really made the original portal door, more Stringbean, Lilith having her moment of bonding/actualization with the Owl Beast, resolution on the Titan Trappers, and just a final season overall to really close out the series and send off the characters we all love.

Downside to this alt reality = because Disney's no longer funding it the animation had to be finished by Dingo Pictures and all the voice acting is done by Chris Pratt. Also a nuke went off and we're in the middle of WWIII officially.

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival x celebrity gn

Yakumo

Singing together while cooking is one of your favorite activities! He is very shy and sweet and that's so endearing. Despite his social anxieties he does make a point to come out to your shows whenever he can. You always smile a little bigger when you see him in the crowd. You know it does make him nervous to be around so many people, but he loves you so much and he puts in the effort to know that he supports you no matter what.

Edmond

At one point knights were hired as bodyguards to protect you for a high profile show and that's how the two of you met. You impressed him on stage and he impressed you with his strength. It's a solid relationship built on mutual admiration. He's probably one of the only people you can go on a date with and not be swarmed by fans. It's nice to have a literal bodyguard as a boyfriend.

Olivine

You two instantly bond over the shared trauma of having insane fan clubs. He listened with an open heart to your confessions about the stress being a celebrity was giving you. At the time you just wanted to quit and leave your life behind but after talking it over with him you relaxed a little bit and decided that it was hard but not a hardship you couldn't overcome. Sometimes it feels like the two of you are the only ones who understand each other. It's a little bit of an equality that you both appreciate and it brings a sense of normalcy that you both crave from each other.

Quincy

You two met because you desperately needed a break from your fans. The only place you could think of to get away was the forest, and unfortunately you got lost. You would have stayed lost if Quincy didn't find you by accident. He didn't know that you were famous and honestly didn't care that you were. After you two got together he became a safe haven for you to get away from the stress of life. When you see him you almost instantly relax because he gives off this calming and protective aura that you don't feel anywhere else but by his side.

Kuya

He knows exactly who you are and found you interesting enough to mess with. What started off as him trying to mess with you to see if he could incite riots with your fans turned into him respecting how you handled the situations that he put you through. When he eventually ‘accidentally bumped into you’ and introduced himself you had no idea that he was the one making your life slightly more annoying. Eventually you figure it out because he couldn't help but drop hints but you did wind up forgiving him.

Blade

He may have actually fallen in love with you before he met you. If he had a radio in the dead zone then I definitely think he's heard you before, and maybe even have fallen a little for your sweet voice or demeanor. He doesn't get jealous but he does get concerned when he sees you overwhelmed with crowds. He always asks if you're okay after a performance. If he's really worried you'll buy him a cute thing and then he will forget about his worry until the next performance…

Garu

I think you met after one of your performances and you were trying to get away from the crowd. All he saw was you trying to get away from a group of people and his instincts kicked in and he stepped in between you and the ravenous fans. He's very sweet and supportive. It's nice knowing that he doesn't like you just because of your fame.

Karu

Guard dog. Head of your security and no you don't get a choice about it. He's impressed by your power to sway people and get people to like you. You explain how it's because you're a celebrity but any explanation goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn't understand or care about why, he just likes how you ‘have power over people’. He did develop genuine feelings after this but it definitely started with him trying to learn your secret to control people's hearts

Dante

He's definitely more famous than you…but that kind of comes with the territory of being a king. Sometimes he may ask you to do a show for his soldiers to boost morale. Sometimes that's just an excuse to get you to come to Solaria and see him. Both of you have extremely busy schedules so you both understand it's difficult to make free time and you both fully appreciate the time you get to spend with each other. He's very kind in private and because of your schedules quality time even in total silence has become your love language.

Rei

He does not want to admit he's jealous of the attention you give your fans. Trying to talk to him about it is like pulling teeth. I think you two got together before you got famous and he is not handling the change well. Give him a little bit of personal attention and that may help or it may make it worse. He respects your career choices but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it.

Eiden

He has definitely fantasized about sleeping with a celebrity, so actually getting to date one is a dream come true. He treats you the same as he does his clan members. Basically he treats you like a normal human being and that taste of normalcy is not something you get in your day-to-day life. It soon becomes something that you crave and one of the things you love most about him.

Aster

He's definitely going to sell merch for you. Whether you know it or not. You may be his first love but profit is definitely a close second. He does offer to help for event planning or for designing merch for you as well. It's nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. He may have actually approached you initially because he thought he could make a profit on you, and eventually those pesky feelings set in so now he's stuck emotionally attached to you.

Morvay

He's not normally a jealous person, but I think you being a celebrity might make him a bit jealous or flustered. He doesn't mind sharing people physically, however he does still crave private time with you and your busy schedule doesn't allow for a lot of that. He takes full advantage of any time he gets to be alone with you. If you shoot him a wink while you're on stage or during a show then he is going to practically melt. That helps a little bit with his jealousy but definitely just makes him more eager to get his hands on you later.

[mothergold]

| Falling on Pavement |

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, No Pronouns for Reader, He/Him Pronouns for Lucifer, Fluff, Implied Slow Burn, First Kiss, Strangers -> Friends -> Lovers, Reader is bad at feelings, Reader is Oblivious, It kinda gets a little suggestive towards the end lol, Open Ending, 1.7k words.

A/n: Uhm i just wanna kiss Lucifer <3 

Summary: When Lucifer asks you to go on a little night time walk, who are you to refuse?

Tags: @auphelia @suyacho @tighnarly @themovingcastlez

It had been a long day at the hotel and everyone had run off to do their own thing, and that’s when you decided to rest on the couch. You’d flipped through the various channels and ended up landing on something that was halfway interesting. That’s when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye, looking to the right you saw Lucifer standing there, a little awkwardly, too. 

“Lucifer?” You called out. 

His body stiffened before quickly turning to you and (trying) to laugh it off. “Mhm, yeah?” 

“Are you okay..?” You questioned.

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head. “Oh yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Lucifer.” You pressed.

“Okay, okay, truth is I had something I wanted to ask you.” He admitted sheepishly. 

You tilted your head in curiosity, waiting for what he was about to ask. 

Lucifer fiddled with his thumbs as he slowly approached you. “Well, I was, uh, just wondering if maybe you’d like to go on a walk.. with me.. alone.” 

“Oh.” You said without thinking. “Shit, sorry that’s not what I meant to say.” 

Lucifer seemed to lean away for a split second before he heard your actual response.

Your next reply was more enthusiastic. “I’d love to!” Already you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, and embarrassment swimming in your chest. “Lemme go grab my shoes real quick, then we can go.”

Lucifer nodded and waited patiently for you to get your shoes on and meet beside him for this walk that was now lowkey making the both of you panic internally. Sure, the two of you had been more than well acquainted with since your arrival at the hotel, but there had always been this odd tension between the two of you that you could never quite put your finger on. Lucifer opened the door for you, holding it open as the two of you took a stroll down the street. You took in all the usual sights and sounds but this time with Lucifer beside you, talking to you. It was such an unusual feeling, enjoying the world around you with him by your side. Or at the very least it was weird to do such normal, mundane things with the king of hell beside you. It felt weird,  like you were almost out of place here, but you shook away those thoughts.

You continued walking as Lucifer pointed out different places and the memories he had held onto with each place. It was when Lucifer pointed out the next nostalgic place that he had accidentally bumped his arm against your chest, which made the both of you instantly become hot with embarrassment. He looked at you first but then quickly averted his eyes, too ashamed to make eye contact with you. You wouldn’t even look at him, your eyes glued to the ground as you listened to Lucifer say multiple apologies. There was a moment of silence before anyone said another thing, the both of you were far too nervous to say a damn thing, but eventually you chose to speak up. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it was just an accident. I’m sorry for not saying anything afterward, that was kind of shitty.” You admitted. You were a little ashamed for not forgiving him right on the spot, but in all honesty you were really embarrassed. 

He turned to face you and you did the same, and as he spoke you took in each and every word he said. “You have nothing to apologize for. So, please, don’t.” He smiled at you, and just as he was going to say something else you saw something that filled you with fear.

You never told anyone before, even after joining the hotel, that before you had been welcomed into this safe haven, you had lived under one shitty ass roof with a very sketchy demon. That same demon you lived with for so long was the exact reason you came to the hotel. To be honest, you were ashamed to admit you made a deal with someone you most definitely shouldn’t have. You knew that if anyone at the hotel found out they’d try their best to find a way out of your deal. At least that’s what the fear told you every time you wanted to confide in anyone at the hotel. You hadn’t seen the guy since you escaped that night, and how you managed to escape his sights for so long was beyond you, but you weren’t about to cross paths with him anytime soon.

So, without warning you dragged Lucifer down a nearby alley and told him to be quiet, adding a hand over his mouth for extra measure. This was definitely going to come back and bite you in the ass in a few moments. Logically you knew he had nothing to be afraid of, but you were too scared of who you had just seen to let logic dictate your actions. You hadn’t seen him in quite some time, so you couldn’t help but let your initial instinct upon seeing him, be to run and hide. You waited until the coast was clear and the demon had completely walked out of view for you to weaken your grip. Lucifer pulled your hand off of his mouth and looked at you with a face of worry. 

“So, mind telling me what all that was about?” He asked. 

You sighed and tried to stand up and balance yourself before confiding in him, but as luck would have it you completely lost your balance and fell into his arms. It was almost too comical how coincidental it was, as if the afterlife was trying to throw you a bone, but it wasn’t like that between you and Lucifer. Was it? Sure, you had your tension with him and of course you had your wholesome moments with him just like you did with anyone else, but that didn’t mean you wanted him in any other way.. Right? 

In the split moment that you had lost your balance and fallen into his arms, you had begun to think back to all your times with Lucifer, especially the ones where it was just the two of you. The wheels in your head started turning and thinking back to how your chest pounded everytime you were near him, or how you stared at him longer than others did, and the many other instances in your head in which time seemed to stop around him, you had begun to realize he was never just a friend to you. Fuck, you kind of knew that already, but you were just.. Not quick on the uptake. You’d never been good with feelings, even as a human, but this was a new low even for you, or maybe it was simply denial. You had soon forgotten the realization and the emotions that came with it once you looked up at Lucifer, gazing deep into his eyes. 

His eyes were half-lidded and filled with yearning. Your chest began to throb, your body aching for his touch, and your hands slowly slid up the wall of the alleyway to entangle with his hands. Everything in your body was screaming for you to stop what you were doing, telling you that this was a bad idea. You didn’t know how it was wrong, but something about it felt too good to not be a sin. Before you realized it Lucifer had moved his hands so that they held onto yours. Instinctively you pushed your body against his as he leaned his face close to yours, he was mere breaths away from you when his lips hovered over yours. You waited with bated breath until his lips finally pressed up against yours. 

Whether it was right or wrong mattered not to you anymore, the only thing you cared about was his lips against yours. You struggled to get as close to him as possible, even slithering underneath his skin wouldn’t have been enough for you. You had a sudden urge to devour him whole, eager to taste all the king of hell had to offer. Slowly your hands slid down from his hands, your nails scratching him as you made your way down. Once your hands had been at the same level as his hips you began to slide them underneath his shirt, lightly tracing a trail up his back with your nails. Lucifer opened his mouth in a breathless gasp, as if the air was sucked right out of his lungs, but it wasn’t long before his mouth made its way back to your mouth. Just like an animal craving something unattainable Lucifer slid his hands down to your hips and pulled you close to him. 

It was shocking to think that this was your first kiss. That something passionate and hot could be the beginning of something so sweet and honest. As much as you wanted to continue this.. Amazing experience, you couldn’t help but pull away breathlessly. You looked up into Lucifer’s eyes and let out an airy chuckle.

“That was.. Wow.” You said quietly. 

Lucifer rubbed the back of his head, looking to the side and chuckled at your comment. “Yeah.. Wow.” He replied.

You waved your hands in front of you frantically and apologized. “I’m so sorry! We shouldn’t have– I shouldn’t have done that, sir. Oh, fuck I’m so sorry.” You trailed off in a moment of panic, but a hand tilted your head up and you were then met with Lucifer’s empathetic expression. 

“Hey, I liked it, and please, call me Lucifer.” He reassured you with a smile.

You opened your mouth to say something but Lucifer quickly shut you up with a kiss. He left you once again speechless and embarrassed. He held out his hand for you to hold and ushered you out of the alleyway.

“C’mon let’s head back.” He said smiling at you as if you were the greatest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

You nodded and squeezed his hand as the both of you made your way back to the hotel. You wondered what this meant for the both of you. What were you two now? Fuck if either of you knew. One thing you did know was that you definitely wanted to do that again.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I just adore the idea that Flower Fruit Mountain became a sort of safe haven/getaway for the pilgrims' decendants and overtime the various families just... forgot that this was THAT mountain after generations of information being diluted and forgotten until someone just... accidentally stumbled upon Wukong fresh from the dirt

Secret cool family mountain island.

Plus the rings of volcanos (either a security messure by Wukong, or a result of the Burning) make it super hard for anyone other than a pair of dragons who can fly over, a really good boatman + pig, or a really lucky castaway scholar.

Sandy has known of the island for a while now. He's the only boatman brave/hardy enough to discover the exact inlets between the volcanos that safely pass into the paradise beyond. He keeps it a tight secret - not wanting the island to be victim to the greed of the modern day.

Pigsy and Tang are the next to learn about it. Both had gotten themselves into personal troubles and needed an escape from the world. So their friend Sandy offered to show them a spot where the magic privacy wards were strong, and where they could just be alone with their thoughts. Sandy hesistates to land the boat on the island for real, sensing a strong magic that repels potiential trespassers.

Pigsy appriciates the quiet for once. He wonders what ungrateful jerks do have special access to the paradise as he watches from the side of the ship. He saw dragons flying overhead once - maybe its exclusive to them?

Tang has a major historian/fantasy nerd moment when he sees the location of the region on Sandy's map. It's a dead ringer for the lost country of Alolai! The ancestral home of Monkey Demonkind and the birthplace of the Monkey King himself!! This could be a huge discovery!!! Sandy and Pigsy warn their friend about jumping to conclusions; its likely just a really isolated spot in the middle of the ocean. Tang pouts and disagrees, suggesting that if he could explore the island, he might find remnants of what people could have lived their before.

Tang accidentally puts his theory to the test when a freak storm knocks him off the boat and into the waters surrounding the island. He finds himself washed up on the shoreline of the island, confused/cautiously smug at why the protective wards allowed him access. He immediately ignores the survival aspect of his experience and begins exploring the island to his heart's content - blissfully unaware that Pigsy and Sandy are busy tearing the shoreline apart trying to find him.

The Ao-Longs find themselves in a predicament as they notice that they actually can't hire anyone to follow them onto the island. The wards take one look at what appears to be an invasion of dragons like "Nope. No Entry." and spits all the hired help/guides out. The Ao Longs believe their ancestor gained special permission to visit the island and that only related members of Sea dragon royalty can step foot on it. They mostly just saw it as a "panic room" of sorts when they truly needed to be alone (also alone together wink wink).

The day they meet Wukong was when the couple decided that they desperately needed an "off-grid" vacation from the modern world, esp with their super curious and attention-demanding pup.

A certain dragon pup wanders off and finds both a very pretty waterfall, and a very confused human looking at it...

Lil Mei: "Water slide!!" Tang: "OH SWEET BUDDHA NO!!" *jumps in after her* (*both find themselves in an odd cave...*) Tang: "I am freaking out so hard right now, but please never do that again!!" Lil Mei: *delighted giggling* Tang, looking around: "Wow this place hasn't had a good dusting in a while... I'mma just look around for cool stuff before we try getting out, k?" Lil Mei clinging to Tang's robe: "Yep!"

And ofc... a very curious pair find an odd lump/marker in the dirt of the cave that makes the scholar wonder if it's the burial place for a beloved heirloom or pottery. With the assistance of little dragon claws, he manages to unearth what looks like a weird monkey statue (very cool).

Until the staute begins glowing with a powerful magic energy... (0_ 0)

[xadoheandterra]

Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice…well, he’d probably have made the same decision either way.       

The desert is harsh and unforgiving, but sometimes a light in the darkness could be found. Sometimes.

Sometimes though there are more steps before a resolution can be met.

 The excavation work of the eco crystal would take time. Seem knew that they didn’t have all the necessary tools for the removal of crystal without it blowing up in their face. Mar knew that Damas might just attempt it despite the risk and lack of proper materials in the sudden urgency Seem saw him filled with once they began to return to the surface. Damas marked the position of the crystal that presumably housed the Acheron's. Seem worked to map spotted safe routes from Damas' back as they returned to the sands above.

“I need to speak with my Order,” Seem said, voice quiet. “The Council of Elders needs to know.” Seem frowned faintly. “I also need to see how the envoy to the Marauder Clans is doing. I haven’t received a report yet.”

Damas nodded. “We shall reconvene at a later point then Master Seem.”

With the agreement and understanding reached Seem and Damas went their separate ways. Seem headed over to her Monks purposefully. The materials they would need were with the Marauder Clans, and that meant she would have to prepare to enter their domain. She tended to avoid the Clans whenever need of them came up. Instead Seem sent proxies to deal with the barbarians and criminals. Recently the young Warrior Master Talin had become her proxy of choice.

Talin caught Seem’s eye rather quickly. He wasn’t as old as most of the Masters of the Order were for one thing—he barely crested his twentieth year. The Sage’s and Elder’s reported only good things about Talin, too. A calm and level head surprisingly unseen for someone born of Marauder ilk. Seem’s interest piqued there and crested when she learned how well the boy had taken to civilized folk. She could barely see a lick of Marauder in him, and yet he still knew their traditions by rote. A true young prodigy, and so well taken to the Warrior role.

When Talin came to request a team to work with, Seem found herself pleased with his choices. Irma, while in her thirties and only just a Master, had a good grounding in the work required of one of Seem’s Guardians. She’d taken on a Novice in young Finn, and Talin wanted to take upon Liren for Apprenticeship. Liren had more of a hot head than Talin, but Seem wondered if Talin could prevail in getting the boy to embrace a cooler form of thought. Then Talin approached her with the final member of his team—a Sage.

Kira worked as a Healer for as long as Seem knew her. She worked near exclusively within the medic division during the time of Seem’s mother, as she cared for the Monks until dark eco took her. Kira looked after Seem too when her father couldn’t be bothered, and her grandmother found herself lost to Prophecy and uncaring of the world around her. Already Kira approached the position of Elder, and with her gentle but firm nature Seem felt she could do well to direct the otherwise young and impressionable team under an equally young and impressionable leader. In private Kira informed Seem that she looked to the assignment as a vacation.

Seem did not understand how Kira could take the fact that the team would work closely with the various Marauder camps in keeping the peace as a vacation. Still the fact that Kira felt comfortable with the position and was willing to follow the lead of Talin Seem allowed the reassignment. As long as she didn’t need to deal with the Clans and none of her Monks were harmed, Seem could care a little less about who settled as part of the diplomatic envoy’s. Of course Kira had leeway anyway being so close to the position of Elder to make her choices in assignments with or without Seem’s say-so. Seem herself was only a Master for all she led the Monks as a whole.

The Precursor Monks portion of the camp outside the crevasse was busy as Seem anticipated when she stepped into their midst. Healers moved back and forth between the injured that they’d worked to rescue, settled into a make-shift tent for delicate work. They were only the stabilizing force until the Spargans could be transferred back to their city where their own caretakers would continue treatment for their injuries. Further still several Guardians worked to shift barrels of eco off of transports for the medics to use—blue to stimulate nerves, green to push regrowth, red to rebreak and resettle, and yellow to burn away what could not be conducive to green’s gentle touch. Each eco had its own use to the medics, after all, as each affected the body in different ways.

Healer Elder Fors oversaw the various Apprentice’s, Master’s and Sage’s that worked with the eco and the injured. Fors had always been a rather crotchety old man in Seem’s memory, but well suited to the role to bark orders at the younger members of the Order as they rushed around and worked themselves until Fors demanded rest and breaks. He rotated out his team of medics, which had grown from the initial ten sent out with Seem to the full contingent of twenty—and those were only the medics still active and capable of using their gifts. There were several more that Seem knew were back with the Order working in a more managerial series of roles if only because they weren’t trained enough, were healing from an injury, or just could not handle the strain of channeling anymore.

For a moment Seem watched the Healers, Guardians, and Warriors bustle about. She watched as Fors barked orders with her bones weary from exhaustion and the discoveries of the past day. Still more needed to be done, so Seem squared her shoulders and made her way toward Fors, dirty, tired, but determined.

“Master Seem,” Fors greeted, voice like reed paper with how faint and cracked it sounded. The sand soaked air did not do the man justice, but he bore the burden well.

“Elder Fors,” Seem deferred with a slight dip of her head. When she raised it her gaze darted back over the tent and the bustling medics. “How are the efforts?”

Fors grimaced, lips pulled down in a way that only seemed to amplify the wrinkles in his cheeks. It made him look gaunt and hollow as he spoke in grim tones and even grimmer facts. “We’ve lost at least five, and another five look to be on their way. We’re running low on water to provide and the resupply from Spargus is late.”

Seem pressed her lips together, brows furrowed down in contemplation. “An attack, do you think?”

Fors scoffed. “From the Clans? With how much of a struggle they must be in? No. No, child, but perhaps the Hora-Quan, perhaps another creature. Who knows? Perhaps Spargus deigns not to listen to their Lord when He speaks?”

Seem doubted that. Spargus may not believe in the tales of Mar in the way of Havenites, but that didn’t mean that they could deny Damas had power and the means with which to wield it. The blood of Mar ran strong in the exiled monarch; stronger than the King before him, and the King before that even if what Seem had been told were true. Still in this desert and heat, with the chaos of the incident, a delayed resupply could be the cause of many things—but always a question and a concern.

Eventually Seem sighed and murmured, “I would hate to drag you away from your post, then.”

“But you must,” Fors replied.

“I must,” Seem agreed. She waited, and then cautiously prompted, “Do you have someone to oversee in your absence?” A moment of silence before Fors called for one of the apprentices and spoke in low tones with the girl. Seem didn’t bother to listen in to the conversation; her thoughts drifted through the various causes behind a delay in the resupply. She worried her lip as each concern coiled within her gut like a lead stone snake.

“Master Seem,” Fors interrupted her thoughts and Seem jerked her head in his direction. He laid a wrinkled hand upon her shoulder and began to steer her from the tent. “It is handled. Come.”

“Yes, Elder,” Seem mumbled, and allowed Fors to lead her away.

Damas peered over the maps of the crevasse cobbled together from several members of the rescue efforts from underneath the tent, but found his attention drifted from the conversation around him. His mind moved constantly back to the crystal deep down into the earth, and the pulse that he felt beat out from within it. The combination of dark and light eco intertwined into one another had never been considered to be possible—what could the effects be, Damas wondered. Could it have preserved the Acherons life? Or perhaps their remains in some pristine condition? When even did the eco crystalize? Had that been when the volcano erupted or was it a result of the two severely different types of eco interacting? A part of Damas itched to gather up Mar’s journals and read through the thoughts of his ancestor. Mar had quite a bit to write about the Acherons in his later years; thoughts on their research, how things ended up the way they went, and regrets on their fate and what happened to them and to the Sage that stopped them.

Quietly, at his side, Dag murmured, “Lord Damas,” and drew Damas’ attention away from his thoughts. The tent had cleared; whatever discussion between the leaders of the rescue efforts already completed without Damas’ input. Damas didn’t mind—he trusted the Spargans to do what they needed, and he trusted Dag to relay his own findings appropriately if he were to be so lost in his own head.

“Can you repeat that, Dag?” Damas asked.

“What has you so troubled?” Dag quarried. “You barely paid attention to the casualty list, and you didn’t even react when the supply run was noted to be late.”

“Walk with me?”

“Of course, if it helps with your thoughts…” Dag said, and together they stepped out of the tent.

Damas watched the young man that his wife thought would do him good in silence for a moment as they walked through the desert air. Dag’s Spargan native blood was apparent in more than just his name; he had the dark skin of the city’s native denizens, and the hair that locked and braided neatly. Dag walked straight backed, and even with his diminutive height he seemed to tower over most people; this included at times even Damas. Damas glanced away, looked out over the camp, and gathered his thoughts.

“We need to build a barrier over the crevasse immediately,” Damas said eventually. Dag tilted his head slightly but said nothing as he listened. “Master Seem and I reached the bottom—any who dare to venture that far need to also be warned. A majority of the ground is eco crystal,” Damas frowned. “Dark eco crystal.”

Dag sucked in a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit,” he said plainly, and Damas nodded.

For a moment they said nothing as they reached the edge of the camp, and then Damas sighed tiredly. “How many of our beacons have been recovered?” he asked.

Dag snorted with a grumbled, “So you weren’t listening?” and ducked under the playful slap of a hand that brushed against the tips of his fiery hair knotted on the top of his head.

“Impudent brat,” Damas said, a small smile on the edge of his face, and Dag laughed. A second later the air turned somber again.

“Truthfully, we’ve found most of the beacons,” Dag said, and he turned his gaze away from Damas and out over the desert landscape as he spoke. Damas frowned. “Our search parties have marked the locations of each beacon without a body for further searching.”

“How many of our people…” Damas trailed off, a knot of worry deep in his gut. How many died in this disaster? How many Spargans? How many children?

“We’ve recovered close to twenty-five,” Dag said slowly. “Of those only…only eight are surviving. We lost five in the night, according to the Monks, and another five are severe enough that we don’t anticipate survival by days end.”

“The rest?”

“Already gone.”

Damas closed his eyes in grief and bowed his head down. Mar the ripple effect of the mess caused here Spargus would feel for days. He didn’t want to think how many of the Clans were lost—their numbers were smaller than Spargus, and they were spread far out into the Wastes. Some might not be affected, but the closer Clans that had taken to the area for the season—such a waste of life, Damas thought. The desert was a cruel place; harsh to live in and some days the reward didn’t seem worth it to Damas. He wasn’t Spargan born, however, and he knew they would never give this life up for anything else. Not even the Clans would do so, Damas knew now after years spent among the desert people.

“We’ll recover the rest of the beacons,” Damas said, and from Dag’s look he already knew that the meeting he paid no attention to had decided so without him, “but we’ll put the search for any further survivors aside. They are…likely already gone.” It hurt Damas to say, but it was the truth in the end and Damas and Dag both knew it.

“What would you like us to do instead, then?” Dag asked.

“Begin building a cover for the crevasse. We are in thunder season,” Damas said grimly. “One wrong strike….”

Dag sucked in a breath. “There is that much crystal?” he said, tone just the bit on this side of faint.

“Enough to possibly reach Haven.” Damas pressed his lips together and rubbed at his temples. He could feel a headache building. “Furthermore there is…something at the bottom. We need excavation equipment.”

Dag blinked, opened his mouth, and then closed it with a contemplative look. “This is near the underground molten rivers,” Dag said. “According to old maps there was an entrance into the heart of the Volcano nearby at one point; and if the stories are to be believed…the Citadel?” He looked to Damas, who looked to Dag and the nodded. “The Acherons?” Damas nodded again. “Are you sure?”

“I saw their machine,” Damas agreed. “It looked as Mar described only…covered in crystal.”

“You think they are recoverable?” Dag said, and his hands clenched into fists as he looked at Damas with eyes as dark as his skin.

“It is crystal,” Damas said, “but it is still eco.”

Crystal, Damas figured, could be channeled like anything else of eco. If a properly trained channeler could manipulate liquid eco into vapor, then why could one not manipulate crystal back into liquid? Sure they had no clue as to how eco crystalized in the first place—in the crevasse it looked as if the eco boiled first, so perhaps heat could be applied to part of the catalyst for the change—but that didn’t mean the process wasn’t undoable.

“Your mad,” Dag said.

“Maybe I am,” Damas agreed; he wouldn’t deny the thought. Mar seemed quite mad after all, learning to control dark eco in a time where it was taboo—still taboo, really, despite the mess they’ve made of the world with it. “Now,” Damas murmured a minute later, gaze on the horizon, “who is that?”

Dag turned his gaze off into the desert and reached up to the goggles settled over his eyes. He twisted and manipulated the lenses to grant himself more of a zoom to his vision off into the distance. After a moment he stood straighter, arms dropped and clasped at his back in a practiced motion that Damas recognized from whenever one of the Precursor Monks were present.

“It’s one of the sand riders,” Dag said, “but a Monk is astride it.”

“One of Seem’s ambassadors, then,” Damas sighed, a bit of his tension leaving him. “Let us hope he bears good news for us.”

Talin downed the drink offered to him in the tent to soothe his parched throat. The ride from the camp had been long, and the struggle with the Clans to get a hold of a rider took too much time in Talin’s not-so-humble opinion. One of the few things he honestly didn’t miss about Marauder life had been how unnecessarily complicated they made what should be simple things.

The water dribbled down his chin and Talin quickly wiped it away with a grimace, well aware that he’d probably messed up his own face paint but beyond tired enough to really care about it at this time. He glanced to Lord Damas from under his eyelashes, then to the Spargan ruler’s attendant with a tilt of his head.

“Master Seem will be here shortly,” Dag uttered.

“Seem called a Council meeting,” Damas explained as he poured more water into the cup which Talin quickly squirreled back close to his chest to swallow more. “I take it your expedition bore fruit?”

Talin set the cup down with a soft breath and said, “After a fashion.” He looked at the cup and wondered if he should wait for Master Seem to arrive before he explained, but then he thought about the long drive and the mess of the Marauder Camp and sighed. “The Chieftan will only entertain the idea of a truce as long as you are there to present it to him, Lord Damas.”

Damas pursed his lips. “Aermsmin said that?” he questioned, and Talin nodded sharply.

“The Clans are not in a good way.” Talin bit his lip, comfortable in the presence of Damas despite how initially he’d been raised wary of the idea of the man. “The crevasse tore near through the main encampment. There’s been plenty of loss and injury on their end as well.” It didn’t take Talin much to conclude that Spargus’ own losses were significant either; not if Master Seem was in a meeting with the Council of Elders.

“It’s even worse,” Damas said, gaze off in the distance. “We’ll need the Clans to help cover the whole of the crevasse.”

Talin blinked. “Cover it?”

“Master Seem and I made a discovery at the bottom,” Damas looked right at Talin, gaze sharp enough that Talin shivered from its intensity. “The entire of the desert is at risk if we leave the crevasse as it is.”

Talin carefully set down his cup and looked at Damas with his brow pinched down. He wasn’t a fool; Talin could read between the lines easily. He’d spent his whole life on this desert. He knew this place better than most even with time spent mostly among the Monks these past handful of years. After a second Talin nodded and murmured a faint, “I see,” in time for Master Seem to enter into the tent.

“I apologize about my delay,” Seem said shortly with a dip of her head in Damas’ direction. “Master Talin, was your trip a success?”

Talin glanced to Seem and quickly stood to his feet. He made a short gesture with his hand in greeting and ducked his head. “To an extent it can be viewed that way, Master Seem,” Talin replied, “however Chieftan Aermsmin has some caveats before he fully agrees to a truce or armistice at this time.”

There was a flash across Seem’s face, quick enough that Talin couldn’t quite decipher but Damas could. Still, once pressed back into composure expected as the Head of the Precursor Monks Seem tilted her head back in acknowledgement of the news Talin brought.

“Very well,” Seem uttered, hoarse whisper just the slightest bit covered in steel that made a shiver run up Talin’s spine. “Let us hear the Chieftan’s demands.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday: Fragile Things

(This is the one where overuse of light eco at the point of death rewound Damas’s soul back three years. He still isn't sure whether he actually died and accidentally entered another timeline's body when that Damas would have died early, or if he just had an extremely detailed vision. Either way, he broke into Haven and kidnapped TPL Jak literally right in front of Errol and his patrol, and 100% forgot to explain this to his people. Including Jak.) This is long so I'm breaking it into two three posts because even with a read-more it'd be a lot of scrolling.

Two Months Before the Incident:

For the children of the North Quarter, the bridge was a popular place to play and congregate. Most people didn't mind their youngsters hanging around the area, as it was close enough to the tower to discourage general mischief. Footraces, dramatic games of make-believe, even impromptu Raids matches were held on the dusty landmark. It wasn't uncommon for a passing adult to stop and keep an eye on the children for a while, occasionally playing referee.

It was not common for that adult to be King Damas.

He leaned against the tower, and an entrance to the filtration levels that only a handful of Spargans had the code to. Nine children ranging from ten to fourteen in age were spread across the bridge in little groups. The smaller ones were playing a fairly unhinged version of Raids that had evolved to include someone's pet dogat. The older three were crouched closer to him, intent on learning a marble game Jak was trying to teach them. Kill-Grid, he called it, some fusion of checkers and an Arena trial. Damas hadn't quite gotten the hang of it yet, himself, but he enjoyed watching Jak play.

One of the water staff exited the entrance and was taken aback to find him there. For a moment, the balding man looked around as if expecting trouble. When he realized that the king was merely taking his turn looking after the collective of children, he relaxed.

"One of these days someone is going to go right over the side of this thing," he sighed.

"And that's why they're never up here unsupervised," Damas agreed. Never taking his eyes from the children, he asked, "How are the new saline filters working out?"

Jeriko made a face. "All good but one. There's a crack in the seal we didn't notice at installation. We're going to have to take it out and use the old filter until it's fixed."

"Ah. I'll have the Trade guild remind its members to examine imports from Kras more closely." Damas rubbed his nose and shrugged. "Still, three out of four isn't bad."

"No indeed.”

They were silent for a while, and Jeriko noticed something. While Damas’s eyes periodically flitted across every little Spargan on the bridge, they always came back to one in particular. The skinny little thing he'd brought back after dropping off Sig for his infiltration mission. Jak, right? Or Jag? Jeriko could never quite tell, but the boy was almost always in the tower. Far more than any of his playmates would have been. Jeriko could almost swear the boy lived there.

"You knew him already, didn't you?"

He couldn't say what had possessed him to ask what so many whispered about already. A death-wish?

But Damas wasn't offended. There was a faraway quality to his gaze as he murmured, "Yes."

He folded his arms and sighed.

"He's thirteen, now. Thirteen! It doesn't seem real."

This was not what Jeriko had expected to hear. He turned to face his king in shock.

"Did you know him...before? In Haven?"

Did he leave a kid behind? He wouldn't do that, right?

Damas’s mind was far from the bridge. He answered honestly, but he did not think then how his answers would be interpreted.

"He's changed so much-! And yet for me, it seems only days since we were first separated."

Oh. Jeriko blanched. The coup. Jak had probably been a hostage to ensure that Damas cooperated. He would have been a newborn then! The poor kid! Jeriko didn't want to think about what kind of life he'd led before Damas went back for him. And now Haven had his other child, too? It was unthinkable.

"Does...does he remember?" Jeriko asked cautiously.

Damas shook his head. "No. I was a stranger to him."

His voice caught on the words.

"But it is...better this way. Better he is spared the horrors I remember. If I must rebuild our relationship from the beginning, I will gladly do so as long as he's safe."

Jak looked up then, meeting Damas’s gaze. He blinked at the intensity of it, then beamed and waved.

Damas smiled and waved back, but his eyes were still troubled.

And now, so were Jeriko's.

Five Days Before the Incident:

(The snippet where Jak jumpscares Damas by asking "Hey are you secretly my dad or something")

The Incident:

On the mainland, autumn had arrived. The air was cooling, and leaves were beginning to change color. On the desert island colloquially known as The Wastelands, fall meant temperatures dropping from 100° to 75°, and the air drying out. A relief for everyone except the people who harvested humidity to sell water. The cooling of the air meant that the sandstorm season had ended, and the rainy season would be upon them soon.

In the city of Spargus, that meant children anxiously awaiting the first major storm of the year. Once it had rained for more than fifteen minutes in a single span, the council would choose a day within the week to celebrate the Rainfall holiday on. Rainfall meant a four day break from school, and distribution of carefully conserved fruits and sweets, and the annual plays and mock battles held in the Arena to entertain the youngest Wastelanders. (And some of the older ones, not that they'd admit it.)

Jak had never heard of the holiday before being brought to the desert city. But it reminded him of Aurora Night in Sandover -- or more specifically, Rock Village. Uncle Erasmus had brought the tradition down into the coastal village when he settled there, long before Jak arrived.

He wondered where in the world Erasmus had ended up -- or maybe when. The calendars were all messed up now.

The holiday sounded like a lot of fun. There had never been more than three children in their little neighborhood in Sandover, and celebrations were subsequently quite small. But here there were more kids than Jak had ever seen in one place before. And even the older ones were excited about Rainfall!

Jak sat under an awning with a few other twelve and thirteen year olds, sorting spent ammunition casings to be recycled. It was normally a chore for very young children, but someone in Jak’s class had gotten them all on punishment.

The actions of one affected the whole.

That's the lesson the teacher was trying to impress on them: that one person breaking rules and taking risks in the ruins could put a whole team in danger.

Half the kids understood the lesson behind the group punishment. The other half -- including Jak -- thought it was just grown-ups being mean.

"Y'know what's the worst about this?" complained a girl to Jak’s left -- one of his regular playmates these days, "It wasn't even me this time! For once, I didn't sneak off, and I'm still getting baby chores!"

Jak snorted. "Lose-lose," he signed.

"You said it," Flick agreed.

She tossed another empty Scatter cartridge into a basket and nudged Jak's foot with her own.

"Hey, you think the big boss will give you a Rain Bead this year?"

"Huh?"

Jak tilted his head quizzically.

Flick took a moment to wind her braided hair back up out of her way, only to undo her work again by shrugging.

"Y'know, since you live...somewhere in the tower. Does he take care of you? Or do you live on the first floor?"

"I live with Damas? You knew that already?"

He wasn't that surprised that she'd forgotten. There were a lot of floors in the tower, and three of them had people living in them. And since people didn't like to talk about Damas’s other kid, the baby his friend in Haven was searching for, they tended to assume that Damas wasn't the one looking after Jak.

The only exceptions were the guards and the filtration staff. They gossiped worse than old Mrs. Perch! Inside the tower, it was an open secret that Jak had either been adopted by the king, or was a biological child that had been taken from him when he was exiled.

Jak pretended not to hear them gossiping when they saw him. It just made his head hurt.

Forget figuring out how that could work. Damas said he wanted to be Jak's dad on purpose! That was even better, right? Because it meant he wasn't obligated to look after Jak, he did it because he wanted to.

Jak watched a strand of bone beads bounce against Flick's braid -- off-white against bright teal -- and counted them silently.

Thirteen, one for every Rainfall Flick had experienced. She was looking forward to her fourteenth bead. Some Wastelanders had as many as twenty hanging from belts or hair! But only those with parents living in the city.

It wasn't a gift friends could give. Apparently it was reserved only for parents and guardians.

Jak didn't know if Damas would give him a rain bead, but he was hoping he would.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the half filled blaster casing still contained until his hands tingled.

Oh, he hadn't meant to channel it out!

Jak pretended to light one of his fingers on fire and watched the eco hop from vein to fingertip like a perverse candle.

It wasn't enough for a full fireball, but that was for the best. The last time there was an eco imbalance, he'd nearly singed off Teacher Rustin's eyebrows.

"Aw cool!" Flick leaned over with a wide, crooked grin. "Man, I wish I could channel."

Feeling a bit whimsical, Jak used the fire to write words in the air before it ran out.

"That's what the shells are for, right? Even the playing field."

"Yeah," Flick sighed, "I guess that's true."

Then she started digging around for more blaster casings.

"Do it again."

"Guysss!" a younger boy whined from further down the line, "Quit! You're gonna get us in more trouble!"

Considering this was the youngster who had gotten them on group punishment in the first place, nobody paid him much attention.

"Here! How about this one?"

Flick tossed another shell to Jak.

"Nah. Empty."

The baskets were nearly full by the time they found more eco. Most of their classmates had finished their allotted baskets and been dismissed to carry on with their day by then. And according to Rustin, Jak could have left by now. But he hadn't channeled yellow eco in months! Now he wanted to find more!

"Ah-ha!"

Jak held up three shells triumphantly. Now this was enough for a fireball.

Rustin leapt to his feet.

"Noooooo you don't!" the young man shouted, "You get out of here with that eco!"

Cackling, Jak and Flick scooped up a handful of disorganized cartridges and shells and dashed out of the stall towards the beach.

Nobody minded if kids made a mess on the beach. Wasn't much to mess up. Flick turned a cartwheel -- showoff, Jak couldn't do that! -- and landed on her feet. Jak just did a somersault, as he always did back h- back in Sandover.

"Hey! I'll throw a sandball, and you blast it outta the air, okay?"

Flick ran to the surf and began packing wet sand into a sphere.

Jak drew the remnants of the yellow eco out of the spent casings. The stuff ran out quickly. You either channeled it out, or it got absorbed into your core.

The warmth gathered in his palm, sharpened his sight, and Jak waited.

Flick pulled back her arm and launched her projectile straight up.

Blam!

The fireball struck it dead-on. Sand rained down on them both.

Laughing, Jak brushed it out of his hair and shoved the fully empty casings into his pocket. Sorting through the random assortment they'd grabbed, he was disappointed to find no red residue in any of them. Oh well. There was a hint of blue, though.

Jak curved his right hand down into his left palm.

"Again!"

"You got it, partner!" Flick ran back to make another sandball, missing Jak's wince.

He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he wasn't her partner. It was Jak and Daxter, not Jak and Flick. Damas’s friend would find Daxter, Damas said so! He was so sure of it! Damas was always telling him that he would see Daxter again, that he couldn't give up.

Flick was his friend -- she'd probably be Daxter's friend, too -- but Daxter was the one who'd been through enough with him to be a partner.

"Okay! Ready for launch?"

Flick waved an arm.

"Readyyyyy- go!"

This time, Jak didn't shoot a fireball. This time he'd gotten a fingerful of blue eco.

Just that little bit was enough to propel him four feet up in a single leap to slap a hand against the sandball, smashing it.

"Yoooo!" Flick crowed, "That was awesome!"

Then an idea struck her. Jak recognized that little shimmer. When the girl's brown eyes looked almost gold for a moment, that was cause for concern. That meant somebody's parents were going to get called by the end of this.

Unfortunately, it also meant something really fun was about to happen. Choices, choices.

"Wait here." Without waiting for an answer, Flick turned and pelted up the beach, sending up little sprays of sand in her wake.

Jak tucked the Vulcan cartridge into his pocket with the other casings and shrugged. The weather was nice, he didn't mind waiting. The water was just beginning to cool, the perfect temperature for swimming. Jak struggled with his boots -- laces, he hated laces! It took weeks for Damas to teach him to tie his own stupid shoes! -- and kicked them off with a grumble before diving in.

The salt stung his eyes, but Jak had grown accustomed to that years ago. He pushed past the cloudy grit of the shallows and down past the breakers, to where the water was clear, and clean, and blue.

There was coral here. Not as dense as the reef in Rock Village, but there were more fish around it. Parrotfish nibbling at odd ends, wrasse darting in and out and hiding in the sand, funny little things shaped like flat ribbons that bumbled along. Jak loved to watch them all.

Sometimes, if he looked hard enough, he could find pieces of orbs under the coral. There were some whole ones, too, but prying them out would require breaking the coral, and Jak still remembered Samos's hour long lecture about coral being an animal of some kind. Jak didn't want to hurt an animal that wasn't hurting him just for the sake of something shiny. The shards of orbs he dredged up were enough -- the adults certainly seemed to think so. Apparently there were so many broken orbs around the desert that shards had become the most common form of currency. Jak wondered what could be powerful enough to smash an orb.

It wasn't until he came up for air that he realized Flick had been calling him. He wasn't sure when she'd gotten back. Time seemed to disappear when he was underwater. In no particular hurry, Jak swam a leisurely circuit before making his way back to shore. Flick had a bag over her shoulder that she was clinging to with a clear impatience. What was she up to?

"C'mon! Hurry! Before my mom figures out I took these!"

Well that was both promising and ominous at the same time.

Jak shook off seawater like a crocadog. (He saw them swimming beyond the reef sometimes. He badly wanted to touch one, but it Wasn't Allowed, apparently.)

Flick squealed and jumped out of the way.

"Ja-aak! Quit!"

He did not.

Once he'd wrung out his scarf -- and flicked the water off his fingers and onto his friend -- Jak leaned over with a questioning grunt.

Flick's eyes sparkled with mischief.

When she pulled back the flap, shiny yellow and blue plastic caught the sunlight.

Bullets. Unspent bullets.

Flick was fourteen; she was allowed to have Scattergun cartridges -- Jak still had to wait a year to be allowed to hold a gun -- but Blaster and Vulcan rounds? Absolutely not. The lure of the forbidden pulled at Jak, and he only hesitated for a moment.

The last time he'd given in to that call, his best friend got turned into an ottsel. But, they'd also uncovered Gol and Maia's plot.

And it wasn't like there was any dark eco here. He definitely had no chance of turning Flick into an ottsel.

Jak took adventure's bait, hook line and sinker.

Prying open the bullets to get the eco out was difficult. It took several minutes, and the sun was beating down uncomfortably on their shoulders when they finally cracked the seal on a Vulcan round. But it was so worth it. The rush of blue eco, shooting through his body, made Jak feel almost like he was back on Sentinel Beach. He whooped and took off down the strand, laughing.

Go go go go go! cried the eco in his blood, Faster! Higher! Further!

He'd made it halfway up the side of the cliff before he felt the eco beginning to wear off. Making the most of every last spark, Jak kicked off the rock wall and into a backflip, landing on his feet.

The nice thing about blue eco was that he was never out of breath after using it.

Jak turned to find Flick, much further down the beach. He waved his arms with a theatrical, "TA-DA!"

Flick whooped and waved her own arms. She waited until Jak had jogged back to her before pulling out a Blaster bullet.

"Now let's do fire!"

They spent close to half an hour playing with the elements of motion and range and fire. It was so strange to Jak that this was such a foreign concept to children in Spargus. There were no open vents here, no clusters of raw eco oozing from the rocks and the sea and the earth itself. Was it because it was a desert?

"Hey Jak," Flick said when they had begun to wind down, "How come you can channel more than one eco?"

Jak looked away from the sun, which was beginning to sink, with a startled grunt.

Oh. Right. The sages only ever channeled just one. He supposed monks were like sages in training, so they probably only channeled one eco, too.

"I don't know. I just do." Jak shrugged. "I can't turn it off. It just happens."

Flick laid back on the sand with her hands behind her head. "Huh. Well, that's kind of cool though."

They were quiet for a few seconds, but the calm wouldn't last.

Flick abruptly sat up and shifted to look at Jak. He blinked back at her upside-down visage and wondered why he suddenly had a bad feeling.

Was this what it was like to be Daxter?

"Have you ever channeled more than one eco?" Flick asked, "at the same time?"

A year ago, Jak would have said that was impossible. Picking up green turned off the effects of blue. Yellow turned off red. He just couldn't hold onto two at once.

Or so he'd thought.

But then came the last battle against the Acherons.

"Actually..."

Now Jak sat up, frowning.

"Actually, yeah! Only once, but it was like-"

He made a few meaningless gestures, trying to convey a sensation he couldn't describe.

"It was all four! And- and they mixed or something into- to- white eco or something!" Jak's hands were exaggerated into a shout. "It was like mega powerful!"

"Nuh-uh!" Flick challenged, but she was smiling. "There's no way. You did not homebrew light eco."

"Wasn't me, it was four sages!" Jak explained. "Maybe that's why I could do it?"

"Well can you only do it with all four, or does it work with three? Or even just two?"

The wheels were turning in Flick's head.

"What if you wanted speed and firepower, but not super strength?"

"Blue and yellow! Maybe!"

Jak didn't know that it wouldn't work.

And even if it didn't, at worst one would just cancel out the other.

"Might not do anything, but who knows!"

"We'll know.”

Next>

[whumpsday]

Whumpmas in July #7

Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time!

so once again, i want to avoid saying the same thing i've said in previous years, and i've already talked about a lot of my favorite whump fics for WIJ before since this same prompt was used last year!

here is my post from last year, with a bunch of my favorite whump fics of all time. those fics include:

Dollhouse by @sowhumpshaped

Hazeshift by @whumpwillow

Magnanimous Moonrise & Savage Sunset by @not-a-space-alien

Of Vampires and Men by @whumpy-writings

Riot Kings by @befuddled-calico-whump

The Dark Side of the Sun by @quietly-by-myself

The Monster of Lindborough by @secretwhumplair

Things End | People Change by @whumpcloud

Tomas and Rowe by @whumpzone

you can find links to and summaries of those in the post linked above. here's 5 more of my favorite whump fics!

🔥 Bahkauv by @deluxewhump - Three friends traveling to the city stop off at a hunters camp to purchase a vampire for one of them to research at the university he will be attending. They purchase something a little different instead. (monster/vampire-adjacent whumpee, rescue/recovery, caretaker new master, burns, torture)

🧙‍♀️ Demon's Haven by @whumpwillow - Summoning demons for requests with a price far less expensive than one’s undying soul is common practice for witches, especially those who practice dark magic. Haven just wants to unlock a grimoire she found with the help of demonic magic, yet she ends up not in a battle of wits and wills but comforting a tortured and traumatized demon. (demon whumpee, rescue/recovery, desperate begging whumpee, accidental whump, caretaking)

💔 Shattered by @oddsconvert - Years of being held captive, under the vampires brutal persusasion has finally broken Declan, shattered his mind. Not living but not quite dead, paralysed in a comatose-like state. Vince decides his once delicious bloodbag has finally reached its end, selling it during it’s final few days. When August sees the advert for the dying human, he knows what he must do. Taking on the responsibility of nursing Declan back to health - though he is woefully unprepared for just how deep and severe the damage is and the hardships that will arise whilst tackling it. (vampire whumper, vampire caretaker, rescue/recovery, caretaker new master, recovery from mind control)

🧟‍♀️ Part of You by @sowhumpshaped - I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About whether I could do it. At the end of the day, there’s really no other alternative. Gena is my responsibility, and I’ll do everything to keep her safe and fed. (undead whumpee, cannibalism, lab whump, gore/dismemberment, tragedy)

⚰️ Another Path (BG3 fanfic) by @asidian - Astarion has spent two hundred years waiting for a hero to come. It isn't the foolish sort of idle dreaming that one reads about in adventure tales, no – he doesn't moon about in picturesque arched windows, pressing his hand to his chest and sighing. But he does hope sometimes, furtive and distantly yearning, in the same way he still prays to gods who never listen, every now and again. (vampire whumpee, rescue/recovery, starvation, caretaking, whumpee x caretaker)

@whumpmasinjuly

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted AU: The 7 Teens 👥👥👥🌟

This one was both the most fun and hardest one to do. At first I hated the idea of 7 friends in general cause its canon that the directors added them later in the story and they wanted to just have a free reference without actually doing something. But the more I thought about it, the more I could see that they were accidentally given a good opportunity to create a new batch of loveable characters. So many creative ideas with it! Even the original concept shows that they had more thought and personality to them!

And they actually did have some personality in the deleted scenes, both during the distraction plan and the dungeon scenes, they felt more like characters than the final film. They had Seven Dwarves without actually acting like the Seven Dwarves, like how....???

Sorry to say, they did nothing in the movie. (yeah, I watched Wish, it was lame. Moving on.) One thing I want to achieve here is they'll be a mix between the Dwarves and the Mane 6. I swear this makes sense. 😅 Also one big difference here is that instead of being friends with them from the start, Asha meets each teen one by one when she and Star enter Rosas. A few of them even know Flazino, but not on a super personal level, just that he's seemingly loyal to Magnifico and Amaya. The teens know each other pretty well since they all work around the same place, but having them work together to start a revolution and defeat an evil will cement them as friends with each other and Asha and Star.

So let's give a quick rundown on each one. The more the story evolves, this page will be updated for additional backgrounds or changes to them.

Dhalia: Combination of Twilight/Doc. She's still a baker in this in version, and her wish is to become the greatest baker in the kingdom. (I actually didn't know this was something canon to the movie until later, it just something I came up with by coincidence!) She's incredibly loyal to the king and queen (with a bit of a crush on Magnifico) and willing to do anything for the kingdom. And...let's just say her role in the story will be bigger than some other rewrites or even the film itself.

Simon: Combination of Big Macintosh/Sleepy. While he still retains his sleepiness, its a result of losing his wish. He was actually strong, outgoing and jovial before then. Now he just doesn't have any ambition to do anything aside from his daily tasks. His wish was to become a royal knight and protect the kingdom.

Gabo: Combination of Rainbow Dash/Grumpy. He's incredibly loyal, but he hides it behind his rudeness. He's been duped so many times that he doesn't trust people anymore, especially when finding out he's right about the king being no good. His wish he's keeping secret, but it'll be revealed somewhere in the story.

Bazeema: Combination of Fluttershy/Bashful. Still keeping her kindness and ability to sneak up on people from the movie, Bazeema adores nature and especially animals. She gets along with just about all the animals in the forest, the royal horses and even the birds. She LOVES when Star turns into animals, since he's the entire animal kingdom rolled into one! The only animal she's never succeeded with was Sabor. He's just too much like his owners to get along with. 😂 Her wish is to provide a safe haven where all the animals would be safe and recover together if hurt.

Dario: Combination of Pinkie Pie/Dopey. Now I know you're thinking why not have the Pinkie inspiration for Hal? Well, I wanted her to be a bit more of a grounded type of funny instead of zany. Since Dario is based on Dopey, he provides a lot of awkward yet endearing humor. Sometimes he tries too hard, but he means well. He always manages to make Star laugh though! His wish is to bring laughter to Rosas, as he's one of the few who notices not everyone is exactly happy there.

Safi: Combination of Rarity/Sneezy. Despite Safi's allergies, he loves animals and is a bit shy around Bazeema whenever he helps tend to the garden or animals around Rosas. He might have like a hundred allergies, but he's always generous when it comes to helping his kingdom. Even though the King and Queen don't appreciate it. 😅(I'm also playing with an idea of Safi x Bazeema. Not entirely sure. I just kinda....got a small vibe of that from watching the movie. Maybe it was just me.) His wish is to get rid of his allergies so he can carry on a conversation without sneezing. Yeah, that's it! 😂😂

Hal: Combination of Applejack/Happy. Bit of a rougher gal in this one. She, a hard worker, but has a great sense of humor. She even helps be a test audience for Dario when it comes to his jokes, which eventually leads them to become a duo. Hal feels pretty content, so she hasn't really thought about a wish to give.

At one point later in the story when all of them do come together, I got an idea for their battle cry or team signal being "Heigh, Ho!". I still can't believe they didn't even use that in the movie.

Oh and there is still a traitor in this story, but...its not who you think it is. That's all I can say without spoilers. So you'll have to figure it out as it goes along.

And there you go, that's gonna be it for the characters now! The only one that may get one is Flazino, but it would be later down the line if I did to avoid spoilers. So now, the first test chapter is coming next! It'll include the "Welcome to Rosas" song, but with a twist! And my bestie @signed-sapphire is gonna help me with it, so stay tuned! 😉

@wings-of-sapphire @oh-shtars @chillwildwave @flicklikesstuff @annymation @tumblingdownthefoxden @emillyverse @mythartist21 @kstarsarts @kenihewa

[cloysterbell]

This is probably a stupid question but do you have any Haven and Merlin fanfics that you particularly enjoy and might be able to recommend me...? 👀

BOY DO I

So I will caveat that these Haven recs are a lot fresher since I only got into the show last year. Most of my Merlin recs are a thousand years old since I haven't read anything new since probably 2016 but the old stuff is classic and still fucks despite its age. Also funnily enough, despite everything I still have the most Merlin bookmarks on AO3 over any other show

HAVEN:

The Void series by serendipityxii - to me this is how the show canonically ended

don't stop to think this through by gendernoncompliant - maybe my favorite Haven fic?? You will immediately see why if you read it

the only right i have wronged by gendernoncompliant - VERY interesting read! Love when actions have consequences! Also I do highly recommend most of gendernoncompliant's Haven fics, they're very good

The Accidental Threesome (Or, Five Times Duke Might’ve Date-Crashed, and One Time the Date Crashed Him) by jadzibelle - as a Duke stan I just think that

Emotional Motion Sickness by bellatemple - I really wish we'd gotten to explore the consequences of the finale a little bit more, especially if Duke had survived

Come See About Me by templemarker - absolutely insane about this one and again, you'll see why if you read it

Powerful (with a Little Bit of Tender) by polytropic - I don't remember the details about this one too well but I remember the concept was super interesting and well done

The Trouble with Fairytails by Kedreeva - not to be a furry but

and of COURSE I have to recommend Three Favorite Things and No one told me that there'd be a test (I never studied but I did my best) by multifandom-damnation because they were written for me and they rule!

MERLIN:

to the world that never let you be by imperialmint - oh my god. oh my god. maybe still one of my favorite fics of all time?

Down by the River by bleedforyou1 - wait no never mind THIS is my favorite fic of all time

Stars Above, Stones Below by Destina - I did reread this recently and it and its sequel still hold up

We Are All Diamonds by Footloose - listen. It's a strange concept but just go with it, it's one of the most beautifully written pieces of fiction because Footloose (also the famed author of the Shadowlord and Pirate King, which I never read) is a fandom classic

The Crown of the Summer Court by astolat - let Merlin be on equal footing with Arthur! It's what he deserves!

Hidden Light by Destina - I have this bookmarked as 'the fic with the lake' which is all you need to know

I'm Colourblind, Kid by brbsoulnomming - a fun little au where again, not to be a furry but

August by rageprufrock - it's what we should've gotten if canon wasn't determined to be mean to Arthur all the time

Leashed by riventhorn - 👀

Sense Memory by glim - soft!Arthur my absolute most beloved

and of course, I have to recommend The Student Prince by FayJay. I truly have no idea if you were to read this for the first time in 2024 if it's any good, but it's still very much considered to be one of the fandom classics so it's worth a try at the very least

Unfortunately with Merlin I don't really read that many modern!AUs but stick to mostly canon or canon!AU so I'm not much help if you do want more recent stuff. But I would also very much recommend checking out @dirtybookshelves (better on desktop than mobile)! It's a PHENOMENAL resource for Merlin fics and whoever ran this (I think it was emjayelle?) is a goddamn hero