#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 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 House of Mar has big shoes to fill.

The city moved like a living organism before Jak’s eyes. He watched, hands clasped behind his back and face carefully blank, from the windows high above the city. People—Krimson Guard and Underground alike—came and went from the building in droves. They flowed with the populace who watched outside with undisguised curiosity, broke away, and came together again before transport vehicles. Jak watched the hellcats descend and loaded up; the transport vehicles filled. Normally the KG outposts, barracks, or the prison itself would be where they received their marching orders. Each of those locations were lost or within a district that still wasn’t recovered, and so the relief efforts—and the orders they received for those efforts—began here at the palace.

The movement itself did not lean toward subtlety, but Jak didn’t quite care. This place may be hell, and definitely Jak considered it to be his hell, but he’d found himself placed in charge of it and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t take care of it. The people were his responsibility now, for better or worse, and Jak refused to leave them be. He refused to keep over half of his city in ruins, to leave more than half of its populace to face threats that they were more than capable of being defended from. The very sense of purpose burned deep within him—despite everything Jak silently swore to protect the people of this city, the home of his ancestors, and the home of his pain. He silently swore that if he had to he’d rebuild Haven from the ground up.

On his shoulder Daxter quietly mimicked Jak. He stood tall, feet planted firmly, and hands clasped behind his back at parade rest. The ottsel’s face also schooled carefully blank as they both observed the ground below. Torn and Ashelin worked quick, Jak and Daxter had to give them that. They’d gotten the Krimson Guard mobilized pretty fast, and what Underground agents were on hand shifted into the groups they were directed without a fight. Jak found himself surprised to not see any of the expected infighting between the two groups given their history, but then he and Daxter both knew how some causes were important enough to leave grudges behind.

“Torn always was good at commanding,” Samos said tiredly from a few paces over. Jak glanced to him. “It’s why I left him in charge as often as I did.”

Jak glanced back to the world below. “He’d make a good leader,” the teen noted. “Why isn’t he in charge of the Krimson Guard?”

Samos tapped his cane and hummed in thought. “You have been informed about their formation?” the elderly sage questioned. “The original purpose for the Guard?”

“You mean aside from the spelling illiterate?” Daxter snarked. The seriousness of the ottsel teen’s stance stopped Samos from actually rasping the boy with his cane as he raised his eyebrows ever higher.

“The original spelling was ‘Crimson,’,” Jak clarified. “Before they became known as the ‘Crimson Guard’ they were the ‘Red Eco Knights’ under command of the red sage’s lineage.” Jak turned toward Samos. “When Baron Praxis took command the name changed to ‘Krimson’ so as to differentiate their new, more militarized objective. Correct?”

Samos hummed in agreement.

“Traditionally the Guard has been commanded by the red sage line,” Samos said calmly. “Just as the agricultural and hospitals were cared for by the green sage.”

“The blue sage maintained the shield wall and eco stores,” Daxter continued in thought. “Yellow did…what? Ballistics? Entertainment?”

Samos snorted. “The yellow sage lines focused where they were needed. They kept a pointed, social view and worked more on infrastructure. They did set up the supply chains that flow throughout the city, and then maintained the ballistics and outfitting of the Guard in every sector, but primarily the yellow sage line kept the day-to-day moving along like a well-oiled machine.”

“And above everything stood the line of Mar,” Jak continued. He looked back over the city. “They kept an ever vigilant watch, listened to the pleas of the people, and stood as the beacon of hope…a metaphysical barrier between the people, and the suffering caused by the metal heads.” He sounded contemplative about the words he spoke. A part of Jak always found his family history something of a curiosity, even before Haven Jak wondered where he came from. Now he knew.

“You have been paying attention,” Samos sounded completely pleased with Jak’s assessment. “You are correct. House Mar stood before the people as the beacon of hope, the ones who beat back the darkness and shielded the city from the suffering of the world at large.”

Jak let a small smile slip through at Samos’ praise. Daxter chuckled from his shoulder. “Zoe’s a good teacher,” the ottsel agreed calmly.

Neither noticed Samos start in surprise at Zoe’s name.

“She did always go on about Mar,” Jak agreed. “How important House Mar always was to Haven. The things that House Mar did, how they helped people…how they kept peace and hope and light for Haven.”

If anything Samos didn’t find that too surprising. The blue sage line stood closest to Mar’s line. House Asul and House Mar built the shield wall, worked closest with the eco stores of Haven, and there’d always been some sort of comradery or respect between the two families. Why if Zoe or Vin ever had a child Damas’ age Samos doubted the coup would even have worked in the first place. House Asul would have revolted against the other Houses, Samos was certain. As it was they already looked down on the rest of the sage lines for following through with the coup.

Samos squashed down the small bit of guilt that burned through him for the actions of his foolish youth. Instead he focused onto Jak who kept silent, almost contemplative. The boy certainly had grown over the years in Haven. Samos couldn’t be sure if he could say Jak finally started growing into the man he’d always meant to be, or if it were more that the man he was finally began to mature a little. At any rate Samos found himself rather proud of who Jak slowly became, and who he would eventually become. The years might not have been kind, Samos wasn’t blind he could see the old hurts that Jak tried to hide, but Jak still came out of everything stronger for it.

“It’s almost time,” Samos spoke up, and Jak sighed. He turned from the window and surveyed the room. Samos surveyed Jak.

They were in the highest point of the palace. The room itself had rarely been used over the years for its intended purpose. Samos, nor Jak, knew what Praxis used the space for, but both were fully aware of what the room was meant to be. Surrounded by a single full wall of glass to stare down at the world below, computer systems along another wall, chairs, and a central table that practically lit up from the number of lights and screens that littered it. The room itself existed as something more like a command center—stark and utilitarian in its design, but it also stood sleek and intuitive. Jak made his way over to the seat at the head of the table. He flicked his fingers across the screen there and began to draw up maps of Haven city, the buildings, and the sewer system as well as schematics for the shield wall.

Samos calmly sat himself down into the seat typically reserved for the green sage line and followed Jak’s example. He also pulled out the reports from the council, the KG, and the Underground on the state of the city beyond the reclaimed districts. What he read made him frown; over sixty percent of the city actually remained in ruins. Eighty percent of the population wasn’t even counted for, and seventy-five percent of Haven’s forces were missing, presumed dead.

Daxter and Jak spoke without speaking while Samos read through what he could. They’d gesture and tilt their heads, twist their mouths as they worked through the schematics. Together they discussed what could be done—how best to tackle the situation at hand. Where best to deploy the forces they did have available, and what best to do to repel the metal heads that still lurked within the city walls.

It was this silence that Zoe stepped into. Jak looked up when she entered the room, offered her a small sort of grimace, and Zoe gave a nod back. She looked worse for wear, and Jak didn’t doubt that she hadn’t had any time to get cleaned up. If anything he figured she had enough time to bring Vin the rest of the way home and little else. Jak watched Zoe take her seat, watched how with a few quick gestures she turned on the holographic projector. The city maps and the reports both began to scroll, the computer working out most of the details.

The next to enter the room was Koray Aksoy of the yellow sage line. Jak glanced at him, gave a short nod, and then went back to what he was looking over. Daxter leaned toward Zoe and said something in low tones that nobody but Jak could understand. Out of the corner of his eye Jak watched as Koray took the seat for the head of House Karga and he fought down a a frown.

Logically Jak knew that Erol’s position in the government, in the Dark Warrior Program, and within the KG actually signified something far more important. He knew, somewhere, that Erol was the heir to House Karga, and as such the direct descendent of the yellow sage. Knowing, and accepting, were two different things. The fact that Koray looked almost exactly like Erol—not necessarily in coloring; Koray’s skin was a bit darker and his eyes a shade more orange, plus his hair was completely the wrong texture, but he stood like Erol and he talked like Erol—didn’t help matters.

Ashelin came into the room with Torn not long after, and Jak presumed that meant the situation on the ground had so far been handled. Koray looked up and pursed his lips into a frown when he saw Torn beside Ashelin.

“Jak,” Ashelin nodded and slipped into her seat. Torn shifted, and then took up position behind Jak. Jak glanced to him, noted how Torn stood stiff with his hands clasped behind his back, and then glanced to Koray.

“Do you feel unsafe here?” Koray questioned. He leaned forward and placed his elbows onto the table, something that made Zoe look at him sharply, a silent sort of reprimand.

“No,” Jak replied pointedly.

“Then why is your bodyguard present?” Koray sneered. “Torn is not fit to be in this meeting. He isn’t of a sage line.”

Ashelin snorted and shifted in her seat.

“Commander,” she stressed the word, “Torn is here at my, and House Hagai’s request. His knowledge will be beneficial for the purpose of this meeting.”

Koray sneered at Ashelin, and short a glance to Samos.

“And what, might I ask, is this meeting about?” Koray quarried. Samos, from his spot, harrumphed.

“We’re not all here, boy,” the elderly sage uttered sharply.

“Samos is quite right, child,” Zoe said primly. “Hold your tongue, and do have care with what you say.” She looked at Koray like he was an errant little kidchild before she calmly focused back on the screens and the holographic display before her. Ashelin from her spot began to input numbers and Jak shifted toward Torn.

“How is the ground?” Jak questioned in low tones as he kept half an eye on Koray. He didn’t want his experiences with Erol to cloud his judgement, but something about the older man rubbed him completely raw.

Torn visibly seemed to sag for a second as he muttered back, exhaustedly, “Terrible.” Jak arched an eyebrow. “More of our men are missing than anyone initially realized, those we could gather were less than thrilled to have their daily lives upset once more.” Jak raised the other eyebrow. “Yes, mostly the KG forces.”

“Any issues with your command?” Jak questioned.

“None so far,” Torn replied back. “Although Ashelin vouching for me appears to have helped a great deal.” Torn paused, then added softer, “She might not look it but she really is grateful you’ve discovered this whole mess. It’s been dragging on her.”

Jak scrubbed his face with one hand and said under his breath, “Thank Zoe. If anyone else had their way I would’ve remained in the dark.”

Torn snorted. “Ashe wouldn’t have gone for that. She’d pushed back eventually.”

“She’d have just manipulated me into fixing the issue without telling me,” Jak grunted and by the twitch of Torn’s lips he hit the nail on the head. For a moment nobody said anything, and then Jak sighed. “Who else are we waiting on?” he asked softly. He couldn’t think of anyone off of the top of his head, but then he still felt more buzzed up on dark eco than anything.

Jak lamented the fact that he put this meeting ahead of actually getting out to waste some of the eco stores he’d built up gathering Vin’s body for a moment. He felt half ready to go off on a hair trigger as it was.

“Keira,” Samos spoke up calmly. “As well as Alyín.”

Alyín; Jak didn’t recognize that name, but given the way Koray actually jerked I surprise the other man quite obviously did.

“Alyín is dead,” Koray practically growled out.

“Alyín is perfectly alive,” Torn countered calmly. “If I understand the situation she is ensuring Lady Hagai will make it here.” He glanced to Samos, and Jak glanced between them. Something else was going on here, apparentlyapparenty, and he disliked the lack of understanding what that was.

“She has been missing presumed dead for years now,” Koray sneered. “Or have you forgotten, Commander Torn?”

Torn didn’t reply, but then again he didn’t need to. Jak’s mouth fell open slightly as he breathed out an ‘oh’ when Alyín stepped into the room with Keira, a dark look on her face. Of course the connection in retrospect was rather obvious. Jak knew she looked a lot like Erol, it unnerved him how much so in fact although the different eyes often threw him off. He felt like he looked into a weird, and skewered mirror image of Erol whenever he saw her.

“Really, Koray?” Alyín sneered back, lips curled up. “And here I thought you mistook me for Rahmi in the elevator not even a week ago.”

Koray twisted, his face pale.

“I believe you are in my seat?” Alyín continued blithely as she showed Keira to a seat next to Samos. Keira, Jak noted, kept oddly silent.

“You’re dead,” Koray said numbly.

“Not as dead as Erol wanted people to believe,” Alyín countered. “Now, my seat?”

The shuffle didn’t take long, and when everything was done Alyín calmly started the introductions. Jak knew in the end the whole affair was settled more for Keira’s sake than his own—he knew which families each person came from already thanks to a combination of Ashelin, Vin, Zoe, and Samos.

“Alyín of House Karga,” Alyín stated calmly. “Alyín of House Karga, present,” Alyín stated calmly. She looked Jak directly in the eye as she dipped her head. “I would like to apologize on behalf of my brother’s actions against you, King Jak. “I would like to apologize on behalf of my brother’s past actions against you, King Jak. His, at the time, ignorance to who you are is not an excuse.”

Daxter twisted.

Erol was her brother?!

Yes, Dax. Obviously.

Jak breathed out through his nose and kept his voice even as he replied—although he couldn’t stop the way his ears twisted down or how his hands shook—his voice rather tight, “Any grievances against House Karga are forgiven.”

“Koray Aksoy,” Koray said smoothly, face rather pinched. “Sire,” he added at a sharp look from over half the table. Jak nodded.

“Ashelin of House Praxis,” Ashelin nodded. “I hope we get the matter resolved quickly, King Jak.”

“As do I,” Jak uttered tiredly.

“Zoe of House Asul,” Zoe nodded, and gave a smile toward Keira. “Vin would’ve loved to be in this room again, Jak…thank you for bringing him home.”

“Samos of House Hagai, with my daughter Keira,” Samos nodded. “As our guest, as well as the guest of House Praxis, we’ve included Commander Torn of the Underground and the Krimson Guard.”

Torn gave a short nod to everyone but kept a stiff stance behind Jak now that proceedings finally started.

“Thank you,” Jak said. “Listen, I’m going to toss aside pretenses here. The issue is this: Haven is in ruins and we damn well need to get it fixed.”

Zoe twittered faintly and pulled up the statistics. Koray pulled a face as Jak tossed aside the stiff formalities.

“Correct,” she said quickly. “Over half of the city still remains under threat from the metal heads. The shield wall stands to cover the Waterfront and Main Town. Everywhere else still suffers from metal head attacks or are at risk of metal head attacks despite that we’ve repelled them.” A few quick taps of her fingers highlighted the danger areas of Haven. Koray and Keira both paled at the large swath of red coloring on the map. Everyone else already had a bit of a cursory understanding of the mess they were in.

“It gets worse,” Torn said exhaustedly. He leaned around Jak and quickly pulled up the information on Haven’s forces from Jak’s terminal. From the way his lips quirked at Koray’s almost scandalized face over on the yellow sage’s side of the room, Torn did this intentionally. “Over seventy percent of the Krimson Guard remain within the danger zone, and we haven’t been capable of getting proper supplies to them for days. We’ve been holding by the thread of our teeth.” Torn paused, then added gruffly. “In some cases quite literally.”

A small part of Jak wondered what those cases were, the rest of him decided it’d be better not to know. He did exchange a glance with Daxter that surmised of how and what?

“Underground agents have been ferrying supplies from the sewer systems,” Samos agreed, “but the risk hasas made the drops hard to complete. Any air support or air drops of supplies has left the Underground numbers practically decimated.”

“Beyond that,” Zoe continued, “most of the city population is also unaccounted for. What little surveying we could do shows that more buildings are collapsed now than last week.. Corpses litter roads and are spreading disease, increasing the risk to survivors and our forces.. The amount of dark eco pooled in the very streets has become a hazard, not to mention the risk to the water supply—which affects all of Haven and not just the areas currently under attack.. Even if we can mount a successful rescue operation our hospitals will quickly become overwhelmed by the amount of sick and infirm.”

“And without that shield wall back up and running we’re basically sitting ducks for a larger attack,” Ashelin frowned in thought. “Although reports we have been able to get show that the metal heads aren’t nearly as well coordinated as they’ve been in the past.”

“Can we use that lack of coordination to our advantage?” Alyín questioned, thoughtfully.

“At first we did,” Torn agreed, a small smile flashed briefly in approval of Alyín’s tactical analysis.countered. He nodded to Zoe who pulled up the past reports on how various sections of the city had been reclaimed. “We were able to push back metal head forces here, here, and here.” He pointed to areas on the map and the lit up green. “However now their erratic movements are working against us. We’ve lost all communication with the Water Slums, and over half of the Slums themselves.” Those areas lit up a dark red, almost the color of blood. Jak grimaced. “We’ve probably honestly completely lost the Water Slumswater slums like we did Dead Town at this point, too.”

“Great,” Alyín cursed.

Jak noted how everyone grimaced at the mention of Dead Town; he hadn’t quite realize that the loss still affected such a large group of ‘nobility’ years afterward. Given the way even Koray scowled in distaste—and Daxter’s silent message in the twist of his hands—the majority of Haven’s noble lines probably still felt something over the loss.

“We can house the majority of the refugees in the Stadium,” Keira mused allowed, and then flushed when all eyes turned on her. “We have plenty of room!” she insisted. “There’s the race track itself, the under track, and then the underground garages. Damage to the Stadium was by far minimal considering the metal heads had to go through most of the city to get there. Plus the zoomer garages themselves have more than enough space, and then the courtyard….”

“Good idea, Keira,” Samos agreed.

“Even better we can handle the risk of the spread of diseases far more easily in the garages themselves too,” Alyín agreed. “The pits we use to work on zoomers can become an effective mass grave site in the interim so that we can cleanse the city more easily enough.”

“Can we spare the green eco?” Koray questioned.

“Fire cleanses just as well as green eco,” Jak mused. “It’ll stop the spread of disease in the short term.”

“Yeah!” Daxter nodded. “We only then have to perform a green eco cleanse of the pits once we’ve finished with the fires.”

“The people will object,” Koray pointed out.

Alyín disagreed. “Not if we phrase it for their safety.” She breathed out heavily. “Honestly cremation at this point is the better option. Not only will it ensure the safety of the rest of the populace but we also don’t have enough space for burials in the size we should expect given how much of Haven is still under siege.”

They bandied back and forth for a while longer, discussed various options and regards toward safety. Jak pointed out the Waterfront would be a good place for refugee’s as well, specifically those who show no sign of illness. Ideas were brought up and tossed aside rather quickly—and at one point Koray even demanded to know how they would pay for this entire operation but found himself shut down quite quickly.

Everything worked out far more smoothly than Jak expected, all things considered, and for the first time in a while Jak began to feel something like hope. Hope for the future—hope for a future. He prayed he didn’t come to regret the feeling later. 

 Torn sighed exasperatedly as he worked through the information that Zoe and the rest of the emergency council wanted to review. Nothing, ultimately, had been enacted after the whole meeting. They made plans for the eventuality—plans Torn figured Jak would go through with even if the others disagreed—and now he sloughed through notes, blueprints, and anything else Zoe and Samos deemed important for the logistics of the whole thing.

At the very least Torn’s position in keeping an eye on Jak meant he had plenty of time to review the documents. Moments like right now, outside of Haven’s walls in the forest landscape, nestled into a little out-of-the-way corner while Jak went all merry-hell on the place and the potential infestation within it. Distantly Torn could hear another roar, another crash, and scrubbed at his forehead to fight away the incoming migraine.

Daxter hadn’t felt it prudent to mention the amount of dark eco Jak just so happened to absorb on his jaunt into the Industrial District for Zoe until well after the meeting ended. Torn had no idea how the kid held things together as well as he did considering the hair trigger Jak contained when too much eco built up into his system.

“You should be thankful he didn’t destroy the palace, Torn,” the no-longer-ex-Commander grumbled. He’d born witness enough to the type of destruction Jak could get up to. He’d also born witness to the eventual fallout. Another howl, another crash, and Torn held back a wince. Daxter, hopefully, would steer Jak away from anything important along the outside wall.

Torn flicked his finger along the data tablet and tried to focus on the work before him. He had the blueprints up for the Stadium, including the amount of people they could seat, the dimensions of when the thing was built—everything and anything that Zoe could dig up on the place Torn had at his fingertips. He hadn’t known how vastly large the Stadium actually was until he’d been handed the tablet. Sure he knew the races got a good turnout—a couple hundred, sometimes just shy of half-a-thousand, attendee’s at a time. However, they needed to be certain what type of occupancy the building could withstand.

Out of the majority of the places available, the Stadium would be the forerunner for the refugee’s from the lost parts of the city. Torn noted down the probable equipment they’d have to find a temporary new home for, and he made a slight suggestion at using the forest. The metal head population would be highly decimated after today, and with proper barricades at choke points they could keep this section fairly secure.

Near silent footsteps caught Torn’s attention and with trained reflexes Torn pulled up a smaller version of Jak’s morph gun. He aimed it toward the entrance to his little section next to the wall and waited until the intruder came into his sights. When he saw orange fur Torn set the gun back down.

“Did he finally tire out?” the commander rasped, gaze once more focused on the work before him.

“Yeah,” Daxter sighed. “He’s collapsed a couple ‘a feet away, recouperatin’.” Torn nodded. “Y’know you didn’t need to follow us, right?”

“Currently my job description is to keep Jak’s ass out of trouble,” Torn snorted. He jotted down a quick note about the occupancy size and pulled up the dimensions and blueprints for the Waterfront to compare.

“Well yer doin’ a shitty job,” Daxter scowled.

“It’d be easier if he stayed put,” Torn replied.

“We ain’t gonna just sit around doin’ nothin’!” Daxter countered.

Torn arched an eyebrow and peered at the two-foot-tall rat with a look that pretty much had Daxter turning away, feet scuffed against the ground sheepishly.

“Jak’s the best at what he does,” Daxter mumbled. “That’s all I meant.”

Torn sighed, set the tablet down, and leaned forward.

“I know,” Torn said. “But even he will burn out eventually.” When Daxter didn’t reply Torn let himself have a self-satisfied smirk. ��Besides, I’d never keep Jak away from the fighting if he didn’t wish me to.”

Daxter glanced over at him with a narrow eyed stare, a silent question that Torn found easier and easier to read the longer he spent in Jak and the rodent’s presence.

“He needs a break,” Torn pointed out. “Otherwise if I really wanted to I could’ve just walked into the Ottsel and dragged him back by his ear. You guys weren’t really subtle.” Daxter looked down towards his feet, chagrined. “I kept Ashelin off of his back for you two, distracted the Shadow for you both.” Torn massaged his forehead tiredly. “Mar-be-damned but I want this to go right.”

“You guys went an’ made him king,” Daxter grumbled. “Ain’t nothin’ right ‘bout that.”

Torn sighed out a, “No,” of agreement. He’d had his own doubts, concerns, but more out of a sense of care for Jak that he’d come to hold in the same way that he cared for each and every one of his men. “But it was the only choice we had at the time.” The only choice they still had.

“An’ the kid?”

“Also wasn’t my idea,” Torn pointed out. “If I could’ve had a say in that I would’ve gotten him to a good home and kept him well away from any of this…shit.” He waved his hand to imply the metaphorical shit he spoke about.

“So you’ve got a heart then,” Daxter concluded.

“I always have,” Torn replied. “I just prefer to keep it under lock and key.”

“With plenty of booze,” Daxter snarked back.

“Best way to keep things hidden,” Torn agreed, and he had the surreal thought on how this was his life now—joking and agreeing with the pet rat of the boy-king that he’d recruited on a drunken whim. Torn picked up the tablet and decided it’d be best to get back to work. “Let me know when Jak’s ready to return to the city.”

Daxter eyed him, then asked, “We gonna go back through the sewers?”

“Until we’ve got a safer passageway, yes,” Torn countered. Daxter grimaced, and then flounced back to Jak loudly lamenting that Torn planned to pull them through the sewers, again. Torn’s ears perked up when he caught the faint, exhausted laughter from Jak. His lips twitched into a small smile. 

 Torn slipped into Ashelin’s quarter’s only after he’d been assured that Jak planned to simply sleep and not sneak out in the middle of the night. The teen often did so back in the Underground headquarters that Torn felt justified in double checking. The frustrated, completely-not-amused look the teen gave him might have also been a few bonus points. Torn liked to screw around a bit with the kids—he had to get his kicks somewhere in this mess of a city; at least he didn’t screw with people in the way other ex-KG might’ve.

Of course that brought to mind Erol, and promptly any good humor Torn felt died a rather abrupt death. He fought down the melancholy that wanted to grab hold of him as he stepped further into Ashelin’s rooms. His finger’s lingered along the scar on his own neck, lips tugged a bit down, but resolutely Torn didn’t think of Erol. He didn’t think of how it hurt to breath, of the biting feel of his own knife against his neck—the feel of warm blood as it slipped down to his collarbones, the hollow scream that echoed in his own head—

“Torn.”

Torn jerked. His eyes snapped open wide, as he saw Ashelin right in his face, eyes practically shining with concern.

“Ashe?” Torn croaked, then winced when it registered just how sore his throat felt. He didn’t even bother to protest as Ashelin grabbed his hands with one hand, and the respirator with another. She knelt down in front of him and carefully tugged the device over his face and ensured that it would do its job.

“We’re good now?” Ashelin asked carefully. She let go of Torn’s hands only when he nodded, and with a sharp movement Torn grasped at the mask and pressed it a bit more firmly against his face. Ashelin seemed to slump in on erself as she rocked back onto her heels, and then fell roughly onto her ass. “Thank Mar.”

“How bad?” Torn wheezed.

Ashelin snorted and gave Torn a look that he knew all too well. He sighed exhaustedly as Ashelin gestured to the room, pointed out the overturned lamp—funny Torn didn’t feel like he’d hit the lamp—and then Torn saw the disheveled couch. Everything clicked.

“Where?” he questioned, leaned in, and tried to calculate just where Ashelin hit the lamp.

“It’s not even a bruise,” Ashelin snapped out. “I’m more worried about that knife of yours.”

Torn made a semi-strangled noise. He hadn’t even unsheathed the damn thing and she worried about his knife? Another look and Torn handed over the weapon grumpily.

“It’s not like I haven’t had a flashback before,” Torn grumbled. “I’m not going to hurt myself Ashe, for Mar’s fucking sake.” It took him a second to parse why he suddenly felt a bit weird, but when he realized it Torn pulled a bit of a face.

“Just breathe, you asshole,” Ashelin sighed.

“I’m breathing,” Torn muttered back, and from the way the mask muffled his voice it turned out fairly incomprehensible. Ashelin shifted until their knees touched, and she leaned back to stare up at the ceiling with an almost contemplative look across her face. Torn recognized the look to mean that the red headed noble girl in front of him was considering something.

“What now?” Torn asked tiredly, shoulders slumped. He might’ve nudged his knees a bit closer against hers until it was their legs pressed against one another.

Ashelin glanced at him, and then back to the ceiling. She hummed in thought, and then gave Torn a bit of a small grin.

“You know for having such a fucked up set of voice chords, you can scream pretty damn loud,” she said eventually.

Torn laughed, then winced, then coughed.

“Oh, ow,” he breathed as the coughing turned into wheezing. “Fuck. Mar. Ow.”

“Mar?” Ashelin quirked her eyebrow in the way she did when she found something he said absolutely hilarious. “Really? Hm, maybe I should use that.”

Torn blinked, then cursed. Ashelin shot him a teasing smile, got to her feet, and sauntered over to her bedroom.

“Ashe! Ashe don’t you fucking dare!” Torn yelled, and he unsteadily got to his feet. He continued to shout after the younger girl as he followed after her, mask still pressed firmly to his face. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Why don’t you make me, Commander?” Ashelin laughed.

Torn huffed, but he let a small, grimace sort of smile cross his face as he passed by the couch. She’d fallen asleep on it, covered in a blanket, surrounded by documents and updates from the troops on the ground. How terribly like her when she was focused on something; if nothing Ashelin’s dedication certainly Torn found an endearing quality.

“Well, Commander?”

Torn scowled. Unless, of course, she used it like now.

“I’m coming, you Mar-be-damned woman!”

“He went and had me damned? For shame, when shall I expect the execution then?”

“Oh fuck you!”

Ashelin just laughed, and Torn found himself somewhat grinning behind his grimace. Laughing he decided, really hurt right now.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[fawnforgold]

| 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.

[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

[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.

Jak takes a trip up to the power station. He is not pleased.

​“Bring him home, Jak.”

Jak breathed out heavily as he stared at the wreck that was the Industrial District. Daxter, on his shoulder, remained eerily silent as they looked out at the wreckage. Half-on-fire zoomers still littered the ground alongside metal head bodies, puddles of dark eco, and elfin corpses alike. When Ashelin and Torn flew Jak and the others back into the city nobody got a really good look at the damage except for the Stadium, Main Town, and the Waterfront. He focused on the immediate, and by the time they’d gotten back anyway most of the cleanup they already found accomplished. Now Jak couldn’t help but wonder if putting off this expedition for so long merely meant he attempted to hide from what he knew to be there.

Nobody mentioned the other districts, really, and Jak doubted they’d even want to. Not if the Industrial district looked like this. Jak fought down the urge to flinch and instead picked his way around the zoomers and corpses. Each time he passed a pool of dark eco he could feel his lungs burn as his body subconscious absorbed everything within reach.

“You gonna be okay?” Daxter asked quietly to his ear, but in the silence the words were frighteningly loud.

“Yeah,” Jak replied through gritted teeth.

“My fur itches,” Daxter complained.

“My skin burns,” Jak said back, and then they lapsed into silence. “We gotta do this.”

“Vin deserves it,” Daxter agreed, and ducked his head.

“They all deserve it,” Jak countered as he stepped around a mangled corpse pinned underneath a zoomer.

“What do you think the slums looks like?” Daxter asked, voice a bit faint. “The water slums?”

“I don’t want to think about it, Dax,” Jak whispered.

They continued the trek in silence, and Jak wondered how many people knew the state of the rest of Haven. Did Ashelin know the extent of the destruction? Did Torn? How many survivors were stuck behind walls and barricades of red, green, and yellow? Jak clenched his hands tight around his gun and girt his teeth. This was his city for better or worse, now, and nobody thought fit to tell him a thing. They were more worried about his knowledge of the political scene.

“Shit, Jak,” Daxter breathed as they inched their way up to the second level. Whole sections of the walkway appeared to have collapsed, probably from some abnormally large metal bug. Jak sucked in a sharp breath and picked his way across the crumbling path. He made sure to set each jump down as gingerly as he could, and swallowed heavily at each ruined wall and zoomer.

“Yeah,” Jak said hoarsely.

“D’you think anyone’s trapped?” Daxter questioned as they slipped around a still on-fire Hellcat—how they remained on fire Jak didn’t want to know. All of the flames by now should be burnt out, right? “D’you think the fighting’s even stopped here?”

“I don’t know, Dax,” Jak replied. “I don’t know.”

“This’ gotta change.”

“Yeah.”

Toward the last stretch before the power station, and Jak wondered how they even got the communications tower back up and running if the Industrial district still looked this bad, Jak monkeyed himself over a few construction beams that helped hold the walkway up in the first place, and slipped around yet another crashed zoomer. His ears twitched, some sort of faint sniffling sound—a gas leak, or water leak, or something—caught his attention.

“You hear that?” Jak asked lowly. He crouched down and shifted his feet so that they were a bit wider as his fingers adjusted the mod on the gun.

“Sounds like cryin’,” Daxter said back. “You think there’s a kid?”

“I was thinking more like a gas leak,” Jak muttered and carefully stepped around the zoomer. He nudged the wreck with his gun and winced at the unholy sound it unleashed, which almost drowned out the frightened scream. Daxter bolted from his shoulder and Jak jerked with a shout of, “Dax!”

“Jak there’s a kid!” Daxter hollered back from the hole he’d wiggled into. Jak cursed loudly and quickly holstered the gun.

“Alright, alright,” he breathed out sharply and tried to shove down the twist of the dark eco, the rage at this mess from overwhelming him. “Kid okay? Kid hurt? C’mon Dax, speak to me.”

“Scraped and banged up,” Daxter called back. “Broken wrist? Arm? I can’t tell. S’too dark.”

Jak scrubbed a hand down his face and closed his eyes. His breath shuddered and he tried to think of someone, anyone, that could be a calming influence. His mind kept on jumping over to Ashelin and Torn and the Council and possibly ripping people a whole new one. He grit his teeth.

“Okay,” Jak said. “Okay. Can you get the kid out?”

“Maybe?”

“Get ‘em over to a zoomer,” Jak instructed. “One of the wrecks, we’ll salvage it. Or something. I’ll check out the Power Station, find Vin. We’ll…figure something out.” Jak cursed. “Precursors!” He stomped over to the door to Vin’s Power Station a bit unneeded, but it helped burn off the twisted feeling beneath his skin.

Jak flexed his fingers and wanted to curse as the tips burned with the same intensity of his mouth. He didn’t doubted that his nails were now blackened, or that his canines elongated. He didn’t even question it, because the sparks of dark eco that leaped off of him as he reached toward the rubble that blocked the doorway told him enough already. He could feel his head throb, feel the burn of horns that itched beneath his skull. Jak let out a frightening roar as he tossed aside what blocked the doorway, eyes dark as pitch. He heaved, his arms and legs shook. Off in the distance he could hear a resounding crash and winced—he wondered if he’d hit a survivor? Perhaps killed someone again without thinking, without realizing—Jak hissed between his teeth and gripped at his ears—his scarf prevented him from actually grabbing his hair—and pushed the burn down.

Not now. Not now precursors damn it all. It felt like a thousand ants raced along his veins and muscular tissue. Each breath felt like he breathed in gravel. Jak shuddered and moved toward the door—he couldn’t lose control here. Outside, outside of Haven, away from people maybe. Maybe. The Forest no doubt—he could find metal bugs aplenty there and truly let loose, truly let everything he forced himself to seal away now free. With that silent promise Jak shouldered the rest of the way into the Power Station and had to stop.

Metal heads, metal bugs, dark eco by what felt like tankards. Jak stumbled, dizzy. The mere scent of it all so overwhelmingly painful it forced him to his knees. He let out a faint keening cry and tried to rub his hands over his face, tried to ignore the way his body felt bloated and ballooned around his skeleton. Jak bit his lip, tried to focus on the pain and past the mess—past the burnt out consoles and the sparking electronics.

Vin. He came here for Vin. Jak breathed in sharply, coughed hard enough to burst a blood vessel in his throat and spat out what little blood gathered in his mouth. He shoved aside the metal heads nearest to him and looked hard for wherever Vin could be. He had to be here somewhere—somewhere—

A boot. Jak reached blindly for it, shoved away the two metal heads that blocked his view, and unearthed pants, a leg, an arm—Jak grit his teeth. He shoved away what he could and—there, there Vin lay.

“H-Hey buddy,” Jak mumbled. “Sorry it took…so long.” He didn’t know what Vin wore on his head, but it looked tacky and the design bulky. Jak figured it for some kind of last defense Vin made, not that it did any good once the shield wall went down. “Gonna…take you back home, okay?”

Despite the ruined state of the room, electronics, and the numerous corpses Vin looked almost pristine. Even with the tears in his clothes and the obvious killing blow Jak couldn’t find anything that even suggested the metal heads got any further than just hitting him the once. He breathed out heavily and grasped at Vin’s corpse, before he hailed it up and onto his shoulder. Exhausted, dizzy, and definitely oversaturated with more dark eco than he could remember getting stuffed into his body for a long time, Jak stumbled out of the power station.

He stumbled all the way over to the zoomer Daxter hotwired, carefully arranged Vin in the backseat, behind the sniffling kid, and picked his way back toward the Palace.

Ashelin came tearing out of the Palace the minute Jak pulled up in the stolen and hotwired zoomer. She looked infuriated, but Jak ignored her in favor of the kid in the front seat, and Vin in the back. He helped Daxter get the kid out of the zoomer, and then reached over and hauled Vin up onto his shoulder.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Ashelin demanded. Jak brushed past her with Vin, one hand gently guiding the trembling child while Daxter held the kid’s uninjured arm and chatted soothingly away. “Five days Jak! I’ve been looking everywhere for you for five days and don’t you dare ignore me!”

Jak slipped through the open doors to the Palace, carefully laid Vin down on one of the couches in the open foyer that served both as a trophy room for Baron Praxis back when he had control, and a receiving room that intimidated guests. The woman behind the front counter gasped at the sight of the corpse, and at the way Jak carefully handled it. Not even a second after making sure Vin’s body lay comfortably did the elevator doors open and Zoe come tearing through them faster than anyone her age should. Jak looked up at her, still ignoring Ashelin’s continued tirade, and tiredly spoke up for the first time since he unearthed Vin’s corpse.

“I brought him home, Zoe,” Jak breathed out. Ashelin fell completely silent when he spoke. “Like I promised.”

Zoe stumbled as she slowed down, and then without heed to her clothes or how it might look to others, she threw herself over towards Vin’s corpse and let herself cry. Jak closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, and breathed out sharply through his nose. When he opened his eyes he directed them right to Ashelin, and she could see the purple bleeding black that began to overtake them.

“We need to talk,” Jak said, and his voice sounded a bit rougher. “Now, Ashelin.”

Ashelin swallowed heavily, glanced to Vin and the sobbing Matriarch that named Jak King back in the council chambers almost a week ago, and without a word promptly turned on heel and headed toward the elevators. Jak nudged the boy at his side along and gestured to the receptionist calmly.

“Lyra, get a hold of Samos and bring him here,” Jak said, eyes hard as he tugged his scarf off from his head. “Have a couple of packs of green eco delivered upstairs with him.”

Lyra the receptionist nodded quickly and Jak followed Ashelin into the elevator with the kid and Daxter. Ashelin stood stiff off to the side, and she looked fit to burst but kept her mouth shut. Jak felt grateful for that; he knew he looked frightening at the moment. With forced calm Jak settled against the back rail of the elevator, watched the doors slid shut, and waited. It didn’t even take a minute before Ashelin whirled around.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me that half the city remained in ruins?” Jak said slowly. He side-eyed Ashelin who looked like she swallowed a lemon for a moment. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that half the city hadn’t been cleaned up?”

“We’ve been busy—” Ashelin started.

“Going over useless crap,” Jak spat. “How many people are trapped, Ashelin, without food, water, or supplies?” He turned fully this time, teeth ground together. “How many injured? How many dead?”

“Jak that isn’t—”

“You made me King!”

Ashelin jerked back, and the kid at Jak’s side whimpered. Jak breathed out slowly, closed his eyes, and forced the burn of eco back. He clenched one hand at his side and kept the other relaxed enough to rub soothing circles against the kid’s back.

“You made me King, Ashelin,” Jak said softer. When he opened his eyes they were barely tinged purple. “You put me in charge of this entire city. Do you think I care about learning the most prominent families when there are still people dying out there?”

“We drop supplies regularly,” Ashelin said. She kept her voice soft, almost soothing. “Shipments of food, water, anything we can spare.”

“Spare?” Jak shook his head. “Out of all the districts which ones do you think were hit the hardest? Main Town? The noble houses? The Waterfront? The Stadium? Or was it the Industrial district? The Bazaar? The slums?”

Ashelin swallowed.

“How many people are trapped in buildings half collapsed, starving and drying from disease and dark eco poisoning? How many children?” Jak questioned, lips pressed thin. “The shield wall hasn’t even been fully repaired yet, how many metal heads still roam streets? How many people die while you force me to learn useless facts about a government that sits on its laurals?”

“Jak…” Ashelin picked her words carefully. “You have…you can’t make changes so easily. There’s protocols…the council has to approve things—I have a point to this, Jak. I do.”

Jak turned away.

“Get together the Underground, their KG minders, and start cleaning up the other districts,” Jak said. He completely ignored Ashelin’s words. “Starting with the industrial sections. We need that shield up and fully functional. Move refugees to the Waterfront and Stadium, and Main Town.”

“Jak you can’t—”

“Are you in charge of the KG or not, Lady Praxis?” Jak demanded sharply and Ashelin fell silent. “Am I not your King?” She swallowed, the doors to the elevator opened, and Jak carefully ushered the kid out. “Go and start recovery efforts. We’ve wasted enough time.”

“But what will we—”

“I’ll handle it.”

Ashelin shoved herself toward the elevator doors before they could close.

“How?!” she demanded. “How will you handle it?”

Jak paused, then glanced back at her. “You have three hours to get the KG and the Underground moving. In three hours everyone from the Sage lines will meet here for an emergency session. Am I clear?”

“But—”

“Am I clear, Ashelin?” Jak demanded, tone a bit sharper, and Ashelin jerked.

“Yes,” she bit out. Jak nodded, turned back around, and led the kid toward his rooms. He kept the careful façade of calm the rest of the way. There was way too much to do, right now, and first priority was to make sure the kid was healed up and had a place to go. He’d deal with everything else—and whether they listened—after that.

Ashelin stomped into her rooms within the Palace, a veritable cloud of rage storming around her. She breezed past the couch where Torn lounged, face drawn and tired as he stared at the television without really seeing it. She practically stomped all the way to her office and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. On the couch Torn pulled his hands over his face, twisted around, and got to his feet.

“Ashe?” Torn called. He leaned his back against the office door and knocked. “Ashe?” He could hear a thump, and the door rattled a bit. Torn sighed. “Don’t throw shit at the door, Ashe.”

“Fuck off!”

Torn groaned. “Ashelin what is going on?” The door shook again, and this time Torn could hear something shatter. Within the office Ashelin cursed, and wisely Torn shifted from the path of the doorway just in time for a knife to slice through it. “Ashelin what the hell is going on?”

For a moment, silence, and then the door yanked open and Ashelin stared at Torn with fury. The red of her eyes almost twisted with the eco Torn knew resided within her very blood, and Torn wanted to grimace. Out of everyone that he or Ashelin knew only a small handful of people could get her this worked up, and given the way things recently worked out Torn could bet on at least two people who pissed Ashelin off.

“Where is he?” Torn asked, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t even dressed for this shit right.

“In his rooms,” Ashelin ground out.

“And what did he do?” Torn asked. Besides disappear for five days. Ashelin stared at Torn for a long moment, then closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. Torn relaxed the slightest bit; if Ashelin was trying to calm herself then whatever it was definitely meant good things down the road.

That didn’t mean of course whatever got her pissed wasn’t good for the immediate situation.

“I have been commanded to move out the Underground and the KG,” Ashelin said, and her teeth were grit together.

Torn breathed out heavily and closed his eyes. “Well,” he said tiredly, “it was only a matter of time before he found out.”

“We don’t have the manpower for a rescue!” Ashelin practically shrieked. Torn jerked away from her and frowned.

“We don’t have the manpower because over half of our forces are still trapped and in need of that rescue, Ashe.” Ashelin’s mouth clicked shut. “You and I both know that we should have taken care of the other districts over a week ago.”

“But the council—” Ashelin protested.

“The council only cares for its own interests,” Torn pointed out. “Ashe, you know this.”

Ashelin looked away and scowled.

“Are you upset he gave you an order, or are you upset you couldn’t get this done yourself?” Torn quarried, one eyebrow raised.

“Shut up, Torn,” Ashelin grumbled. Torn smirked and Ashelin punched him in the arm. “Help me get the word out. I’ve got less than three hours.”

Torn blinked. Jak put a time limit on this? That the Commander hadn’t expected. Cautiously he asked, “Why?”

“Jak’s called an emergency session for the Sage lines,” Ashelin breathed out slowly. “All remaining direct descendants are required to attend.”

Torn nodded. If anything it made sense, although he wondered how Jak knew to even call for an emergency session. Ashelin hadn’t gotten around to discussing what emergency sessions entailed, or the reasons to even call on them yet as far as Torn knew. He cokced his head as he thought about that, and then as the reason for the session abruptly clicked. Torn wanted to laugh.

“Fuck, Mar, no wonder the kid doesn’t want to listen to political ramblings,” he said as he scrubbed his hand through his hair.

Ashelin, halfway back into her office, turned around. “What does that mean?!”

“Ashe, he knows Zoe,” Torn said with a snort. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. Mar.” Ashelin blinked, took a second to think it over, then cursed.

“Why didn’t you tell me this, Torn!?” she demanded, decided it wouldn’t be worth it to have the argument when she had work to do, and turned around to finish fishing out the jury-rigged communications system that’d gotten buried.

“I didn’t think of it,” Torn protested. “Mar, I didn’t even realize how much like King Damas Jak even looked until after I finished up his hair. Put him in front of Zoe, someone who knew King Damas as a kid?” In retrospect the whole thing was actually obvious, but Torn couldn’t fault himself for not knowing. King Damas had been ousted when he was a kid and he could barely remember what the last monarch looked like—almost all materials on him had been removed. Plus Torn’s duties kept growing—keep Jak safe, deal with the emergency protocols and responses for the KG and the Underground, help with rescue operations—so he couldn’t be aware of everything.

“Fine! I wasted a week then!”

Torn rolled his eyes and moved back over toward the couch. He picked up his jacket and the breathing apparatus that attached to it, and calmly began to shrug the clothing back on. “Do you want me to say sorry?”

“Torn, just get the word out!”

“Yes ma’am,” Torn replied sarcastically. He slipped out the door before Ashelin could say anything, fingers already tightening the jacket closed. He shook his head; Jak never ceased to amaze him on the amount of trouble he got into.

[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>

[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)

[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

[bijouxcarys]

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should never have been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tags: @firethatgrewsolow @whothefuckisanja @celestial-dragoness @chromations @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @m-faithfull @strsmn @callmethehunter @angrychicksposts (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!)

The amber liquid sloshed gently as another glass was filled, marking a gradual countdown to a much-anticipated break.

In the heart of Walsall, John Bonham's pub buzzed with life on that particular day. The recent return of kids to school after half-term holidays granted parents a brief respite, allowing them to savour the comforting ambiance of their cherished local haunt.

Walsall might not have dazzled the urban enthusiasts accustomed to the bustling streets of London, Liverpool, or Manchester. However, for the residents, it was a haven. The community thrived in tight-knit bonds, where familiarity bred friendship. In Walsall, faces weren't just faces; they were familiar chapters of a collective story.

For Elena, the pub job John had offered was a lifeline, an escape from the logistical challenges of her previous employment that entailed rides back and forth. The relentless hour-long bus ride on days when John couldn't drive her had become a wearisome routine. Yet, she never had to ask; John's commitment to her safety was unwavering. Opting for the haven of John's pub proved to be a decision that reshaped Elena's narrative, making it the finest choice she'd ever made.

Elena gingerly massaged her lower back, easing the strain from bending over the rack of pint glasses. A flush of warmth crept across her face, and the rebellious baby hairs escaping her ponytail adhered to her forehead. Glancing at the clock above the bar had become a ritual, each tick dragging its heels toward the elusive 2pm.

The half-apron snugly tied around her waist doubled as a saviour, mopping the moisture above her eyebrows and guarding against any accidental beverage spills. A fleeting grimace transformed into a welcoming smile as the next patron patiently awaited service.

John's pub drew a crowd of amiable souls, and Elena effortlessly charmed them, especially the older clientele. Navigating conversations with the seasoned regulars was her forte. Despite the occasional pang of longing for a break, she generally relished her role. The only thorn in her side was the relentless passage of time, leaving her body ablaze with exhaustion. Today was no different; an unrelenting marathon had her yearning for a damn cigarette break.

Adjusting the grip on her ponytail, Elena’s attention was snatched by the entrance of two familiar faces, their boyish grins lighting up the pub like a burst of energy. 

John and Robert, when together, had developed an aura of mischief since they met. They were both confident in each other’s presence, and both knew they were destined for greatness. Although Crawling King Snakes had disbanded early that year, the pair were still in touch and had become virtually inseparable, which in turn meant Elena saw Robert a lot more than what she would have otherwise.

It hadn’t even been a year since she met him and it felt like she’d known him an entire lifetime. She’d already picked up on his little quirks and mannerisms; the way his smile was slightly crooked, his accent thickened when talking about something he loved, and his eyes would narrow when in deep thought. Elena would poke fun at Robert when the Black Country accent warped his words into almost unintelligible murmurs, but he was always quick to bounce back with a light comment about her own accent. 

Recently, Robert had started to let his hair grow out along the sides, turning his blonde locks into a short mass of messy curls that now dropped down into a fully defined beard. It was an intricate development, experiment, he was trying out, searching for a style he felt fit him perfectly.

“El!” John’s voice echoed cheerfully, arms flung wide in a theatrical greeting as they approached the bar. Elena’s face lit up in response, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Y’alright, Bon Bon?” she inquired with a sly grin, her gaze subtly drifting to the blonde figure beside John. “Hi,” she added, her voice a soft undertone.

“Workin’ hard, I see,” John teased, playfully tapping his fist on the freshly polished surface.

“Obviously. Isn’t that why you handed me this job?”

“Could’ve been just because you’re my best friend.”

“Oh, not because I’m a hard worker or anything, eh?” Elena retorted, shooting a smirk at Robert, who observed the banter with an amused expression. “I’m so glad you hold me in such high esteem, John.” With a snort of laughter, she tossed the cloth she had been using to wipe the bar into the wash bin, adding a touch of flair to the mundane task.

“Nah, just joshin’ with you, El. Look at your face! You’re clearly putting in the effort,” John nodded his head in reference to her flushed cheeks and tired demeanour.

“Oh, thanks,” Elena deadpanned, giving him an exaggerated eye roll. “Have you had a good look at your own face lately?”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” John tilted his head back, theatrically flipping his hair.

“You are so fucking insufferable. You’re lucky I love you,” Elena dismissed John with a playful grimace, a sentiment he returned with a mock offended expression. She then turned her attention to Robert. “And how are we today, Robert?”

“Ah, not too shabby, not too shabby,” he shrugged casually, leaning against the bar with a nonchalant air. “You?”

“Oh, I’m having the absolute time of my life here,” she answered Robert but darted her eyes over at John, who was occupying himself by creating a steady rhythm with his hands. He was entirely in his own world, head moving along with the beat he’d created. Looking back at Robert, she smirked. “Has he been smoking again?”

Robert stifled a laugh, standing up straight and nudging John. “Oi, Bonzo!” No answer. “My Lord…” he muttered, resuming his previous position. “Not been smoking, just bangin’ on about Ginger Baker for the last half hour.”

“Ginger Baker… why’s that name sound familiar?”

“Cream.”

“Ah, yes!” she clicked her fingers with a nod, “That’s right… Great, aren’t they?”

“Superb, yeah,” Robert nodded. “You listened to their new album yet?”

“Uh, of course I have, I never miss a new record from my favourite artists,” she told him pointedly.

“You don’t have any of mine!” John interrupted.

“Oh, so you’re competent now, are you?” Elena jested. “You don’t have any records, you plonker.”

As she and John continued their usual back and forth—nothing but love—Robert kept his eyes fixed on Elena. He’d known it within the first 15 minutes of meeting her. He just knew. Deep in his soul. As sure as he was that the sun would rise in the morning. He liked her.  

She was so entirely endearing to him, and that only intensified throughout the months he’d had to get to know her. It turned him into a giddy little boy, the way she made him feel whenever she was around. Her smile was totally intoxicating, even more so when paired with that accent—that stabbing bluntness that gave her an air of invincibility. 

When John had made a passing comment about visiting Elena at work, Robert was almost embarrassed at how quick he was to encourage the idea, his stomach flipping at the mere mention of her name. If it were up to him, he’d have sprinted his peppy self all the way down that road and bulldozed into the pub. He would have dove over the bar, taken her into his arms and attacked her with kiss after kiss…

But he simply could not bring himself to make that move. Never had he ever felt this intimidated about approaching a girl he found attractive. Perhaps it was the lingering knowledge that her rejection would strain his relationship with John, or the straight fact that he couldn't muster up the correct string of words to accurately convey the urge he had to be around her.

So, he did the safest thing and cherished the friendship they’d formed, making the most out of every moment he got with her.

“Listen, I got ya a lovely little job in my lovely little pub,” John gestured around him. “What’s so wrong with the decor?”

Robert was quickly brought back from his thoughts as Elena let out a jubilant laugh. My favourite sound…

“Uh, there aren’t enough plants. Try putting some plants in here, Bon. Plants make everything more lively and colourful!” She gave him a playful pout, batting her lashes in a plea for botanical relief.

Robert stood straight again, nodding his head at John. “Go’won mate, it won’t hurt.”

“Shut up, you, you’re supposed to be my friend.”

“And I am, but give the girl a plant.”

“We don’t need plants in here, El,” John tried to reason with the brunette, who had already settled with the fact she would not be getting her way this time. It was his pub, after all… 

“Besides,” John continued, “The only ‘plant’ anyone ever needs is right here.” He shot a glance at Robert, whose eyes widened in a subtle appeal for silence.

Elena raised her eyebrow, arms folded, and looked over at the boy in question. It was a relief to see Elena smiling at the comment, taking it lightly, and Robert was quick to breathe out his ease. He was lucky John hadn’t caught the fleeting exchange of smiles between the two, and mentally praised his decision to keep the beard in its concealment of a pink flush.

“Fine,” she sighed, facing the drummer. “But you owe me, Bonham.”

“Anything but a plant, please,” he groaned. “What time’s your break?”

Another useless glance at the clock proved a whole 10 minutes had passed, yet it was still a gruelling 20 from her golden 2pm. With a small whimper, she told him.

“Well, why don’t you go on break now, I’ll man the bar.” He gestured for her to come out of her enclosure with a sympathetic nod of his head.

“Really?” she breathed, already moving to untie the apron from her waist. “Ugh, you’re a lifesaver, cheers, Bon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, catching the apron as Elena threw it to him. “And take ‘im with ya,” he pointed at Robert. “If I have to hear about fuckin’ Derrick Morgan and that reggae shit for another second, I’ll wring his neck in.”

“Ses you with fuckin’ Ginger Baker, ya twat,” Robert shot back with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, leave him alone, Bon Bon, just because he can grow out his beard,” teased Elena as she passed him by.

“Yeah, but look at this ‘tache.” He ran his fingers over the thick hair above his top lip, encouraging a laugh from Elena. 

“See you in a bit,” she shook her head, the smile still lingering, as she and Robert made their way out the back of the pub.

“You put up with that your whole life?” Robert asked with a smirk as she stopped in the cloakroom to dig out her cigarettes from her jacket pocket.

With a nod, she giggled and gestured to the correct door. Pushing it open, he gave a theatrical bow in Elena’s direction. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, thank you,” she responded with an equally flamboyant nod, stepping outside into the cool May breeze. Whilst the pub’s atmosphere was laid back and welcoming, there were some ventilation issues that made it stuffier than most would prefer; especially if they were working. Elena had to take a minute to breathe in the fresh air around her before lighting up her cigarette.

The space behind the pub was a small, abandoned patch of land that doubled as the car park. It meant Elena could be alone during her breaks and smoke as much as she wanted without the possibility of judgemental eyes. Not that she particularly cared what others thought about her; she would just prefer not to find herself in an altercation.

“I’m telling ya, don’t ever work in a pub,” she advised Robert, groaning as she slid down the wall into a seated position on the floor. With a chuckle, he joined her, weary of how close he was. Just a few more inches to the right and his leg would be touching hers. Don’t do it, Rob… So he settled for bending his knees and resting his arms on top of them. 

“‘S not that bad, is it?” he peered at her through squinted eyes, the afternoon sun lashing down on them. Elena shrugged, crossing her ankles together and rolling them to relieve her of the burgeoning ache.

“Nah, it’s alright. John just needs to put some proper ventilation in there.” She flicked some ash onto the gravelly floor. “There’re plenty of things I’d rather be doing, but it’s okay for an 18-year-old that doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing yet.”

Robert gave her an understanding nod and smiled to himself. “What would you rather be doing?”

“I’m not too sure yet,” she thought, resting her head against the wall. “I’ve only just finished sixth form. Everyone’s buggering off to uni—it was a struggle just surviving the last 2 years, I ain't gunna spend thousands on a bloody degree.”

“I mean, you must be smart if you made it through sixth form, at least,” Robert speculated, unable to unglue his eyes from Elena as she took a long drag from her cigarette.

“It was mostly to appease my dad,” she snorted, blowing out excess smoke into the air. “Oh, do you want one, by the way?” She turned to him, offering out her packet of Marlboros.

Looking down at the pack, he couldn’t resist. “Well, if yer offerin’,” he accepted somewhat giddily with a shrug of his shoulders. Elena giggled, passing him one before striking a match, leaning in to light it up for him. “I coulda lit it meself,” he mumbled out the side of his mouth, but gladly leaned into the flame. 

Perhaps he was imagining things, but he swore he caught the scent of her perfume—or is it her hair—as she cupped her hand over his cigarette and the match, her own cig dangling from her lips. Whilst she was distracted with the small task, he took a moment to let his eyes wander over her face, still slightly red from her labour. Thick, dark brows knitted in concentration, long eyelashes untouched by makeup, the natural glow of her skin… He’d never had the chance to take a good look at her up close like this, but he wasn’t expecting to fall even deeper into whatever spell she had unknowingly cast upon him.

What he didn’t catch, however, whilst admiring the slope of her nose, was how she took her own experimental glance at him. It was brief, but long enough to truly admire the vibrancy of his eyes; she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen any as blue before. 

And it was definitely long enough to notice his wandering gaze. 

She felt strange being in such close proximity to Robert, but it was in no way unpleasant. His energy was warm, that much she gathered from the day they met; it was the reason she enjoyed being friends with him so much. Robert had the warmest soul she’d ever crossed paths with, even though she’d known him for the short span of 10 months.

Pulling back, she shook the match, the smoky residue thick in its ascendance, before she dropped it beside her, swiftly joined by the ash that had collected at the end of her cigarette.

With a small smirk on her face, she watched Robert as he took a drag. Yes, he was definitely looking at her… 

Then, his bushy eyebrows narrowed, as if in confusion, and he snapped his head towards her. “Hang on, 18?”

“18 what?” She mirrored his expression.

“Since when were you 18?”

“Uh, since last week.”

Robert’s mouth dropped open, an almost offended expression taking over his features.

“What?” she laughed. “What’s that face for?”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

Tilting her head to the side, she pulled her mouth into an amused line. “Didn’t think it was that important.”

“Your 18th isn’t important?” he gasped.

“Well, yeah, it’s an important age, but I didn’t know I needed to tell you about it,” she chuckled.

“I coulda gotten you summet, luv…” 

“Don’t be silly, Robert, you never needed to get me owt.”

“Owt?”

“Anything—you wouldn’t have needed to get me anything!” she huffed.

He held back a laugh by bringing his cig to his lips. “Okay, if you insist…” he murmured.

Even though he was taking a jab, yet a-fucking-gain, at her accent, and being allusive about her birthday, she couldn’t suppress the smile it put on her lips. She lowered her eyes to her legs for a moment, picking at the skin around her thumb, before looking back over at Robert.

“My birthday’s the 13th. For future reference…” Her voice had dropped to a softer tone, and she gave him a smile of the same candour.

“Noted,” Robert nodded. “Don’t be complainin’ if I ever get you owt, though. For future reference,” he smirked.

“You’re as bad as him in there,” she nodded her head towards the door, wondering how John was coping behind the bar and finding some unbridled amusement in the image.

There was a small silence between the two, during which she had finished her cigarette and was now simply reclining against the jagged bricks that made up the pub.

“How’s everything going with finding a new band?” she asked him after a moment, staring up at the clouds now that they had mercifully shielded the sun.

Robert’s sigh was heavy, and through stubborn lips. He shook his head, grumbling something incoherent before finally answering. “‘S alright…” He ran his tongue over his teeth, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Uh, Elena?”

“Hm?”

“D’ya think… I dunno, if I were to ask…” he paused, clicking his tongue. “Ya think Bonzo would be up for playin’ with me again?” He looked at her with genuine curiosity.

It didn’t take much thought for her to reply with a confident nod. “Oh, absolutely! I mean, he’s having a lot of fun with A Way Of Life, but he really did enjoy working with you.”

He sighed in relief, smiling to himself at the response, it being exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Who wouldn’t?”

Robert instantly looked back up at Elena with slightly widened eyes, wondering if he’d just heard her correctly.

“A-as in you’re a good singer,” Elena was quick to clarify, “You’ve got a… just this… the right…” she stuttered, before sighing and looking right into his eyes. “Energy…”

Robert’s eyes softened and grinned characteristically, with a hint of bashfulness. “Tha–”

“Oi! Have you two finished your mother’s meeting out ‘ere?!”

The pair on the floor whipped their heads towards the door to see John’s face sticking out the small gap in it.

“Fucking hell, man, don’t do that!” Elena exclaimed, her hand shooting to her chest. “Wanker…” she mumbled as she pulled herself up from the floor and dusted off her trousers, Robert following suit.

Giving him a jesting shove on the way inside, Elena begrudgingly set herself up for resuming her shift. Meanwhile, Robert slowly made his way back inside, stopping to face his friend.

“Your timing is nothin’ short of fuckin’ exquisite, Bonzo.”

Playfully flicking his forehead, Robert sauntered his way back inside. And as he did, John watched with the complete knowledge of Robert’s seemingly ever-growing interest in his best friend.