#dadsig

[radioactivepeasant]

Demon Baby crack au (Sig adopted Jak but once they figured out he was Mar from a previous time loop they had to figure out Custody Schedules)

Daxter: "You sure about this?"

Jak: "It's fine, Dax."

Damas: "What was that?"

(Demon Baby DJ practicing the little bits of ASL I've been learning for work 😅 I'm finally getting grammar down (or grammar for my area at least)

DJ, menacingly: "Don't tell Dad."

Damas: "Jak, you can't just transform to get out of trouble."

Jak: "Yes I can."

Damas: "...we won't tell Sig. (I must have "sucker" written across my face...)"

(Normally Damas is unfazed by DJ shenanigans because he has a toddler already and knows what he's up against. If, however, said dark eco kid gives a very pointy smile and asks "Spike-Dad" if he wants a cookie too...well, sometimes he caves.)

[radioactivepeasant]

Chaos Wednesday (doesn't normally happen): Demon Slayer Baby au!

Two back to back snippets: how DJ got his nickname, and how Damas caused A Misunderstanding (long post, be forewarned)

Nickname

"Daxter!!"

Tess brightened, flinging her arms open.

"Angel!"

Daxter leaped up onto the bed, careful to avoid the stack of pillows Tess was using to prop up her swollen ankle.

"How's my best gal doing?"

Tess fell back against the headboard with a groan. "Booooooored. Nobody can get out to check Dead Town for old medpacks, so I'm stuck in here for now. I hope Krew isn't being too hard on you!"

Daxter scoffed. "Pssh. Me? Never. He finally appreciates my skill in drink mixing."

A snort of derision from just below the bed contradicted this. Tess noted the pitch of the voice and raised her brows.

"No fights on the way here to get the eco out?"

Daxter cuddled up next to her and shrugged. "I think he just wanted to feel safe, actually. He's getting better at transforming at will!"

Tess smiled and patted the bed. "Hey goober! Come on up!"

Little black claws appeared at the edge of the blanket and scrambled for purchase. Tess didn't really understand why he didn't just adjust his height -- he had full control over the proportions of his limbs like this. But she didn't mention it. Jak was so much happier in this state, acting more like Daxter said he did before they came to Haven. Tess may not have had a full picture of what was going on in that prison when Daxter rescued Jak, but she knew what complex trauma looked like. If it made Jak feel happier, feel safer to be some kind of little goblin, then who was Tess to stop him?

"C'mere, kiddo." Tess reached over to help him up.

With a little gasp of triumph, Jak scooted up over the edge and flung his arms up in a victory pose. His sleeves, sized for a teenaged boy of regular size, unrolled themselves with the motion and flopped over his hands. The travel-sized dark warrior shook them in annoyance, sending them flapping back and forth.

"Awww, come here you cutie!"

Tess scooped him up and danced her fingers over his sides.

"Tickle tickle tickle!"

Jak hissed, but his ear to ear grin gave him away as he batted at Tess’s hands.

"Weirdo sis!" he signed with a snort. "Daxter help!"

"Look bud, she was gonna go after one of us. You gotta take one for the team," Daxter said. "I just got this fur combed flat."

"Who's my favorite murderbuddy? Dee-Jaaaay! DJ's my favorite murderbuddy!" Tess sang, scrubbing her knuckles across the hissing eco being's scalp.

Daxter scratched his nose and frowned. "Huh? DJ?"

"Yeah!" Tess grinned at him. "Dark-eco Jak! DJ! Get it?"

The ottsel looked over at Jak, who was clearly enjoying being fussed over for a change.

"DJ...huh. Whaddya think of that, pal?"

"Yop!"

A soft look overtook Daxter. He reached out to muss Jak's hair. "Alright, DJ it is."

"Yee!" The newly nicknamed DJ flailed his arms even faster in excitement. The sleeves smacked Tess and Daxter in the face. It was absolutely on purpose.

He didn't know why everything was more fun at this size -- was it because there were more things to climb on? Because fights were more of a challenge? Because people were nicer to him? -- but he loved how wild and big all the eco -- and even all his feelings were. Most of the time.

He didn't like Big Sad and Big Scared. He had to go back to tall DJ during those feelings to get them under control. Or let Sig carry him around, but sometimes that was embarrassing.

"Torn is going to come back here before long," Tess warned the boys, "So if you didn't want to do some work today you'll have to make yourself scarce."

DJ began to snicker and pulled his scarf over his head like he was hiding before flailing his arm out from underneath. Daxter cackled, knowing immediately what Jak was suggesting.

"No, bud, I don't think Tattooed Wonder would appreciate it if you hid under the bed and grabbed his ankle when he walked by. It would be funny though."

"Nooo that's so mean!" Tess giggled.

DJ kicked his arms and legs up in the air, made a croaking screech, acting out what he thought Torn's reaction would be before collapsing into giggles as well.

"You're a menace, DJ," Tess cooed, scratching the base of Jak's horn nubs.

"Why yes," DJ signed, "Yes I am."

Damas Causes Problems (on purpose)

"No leads on Mar yet."

Sig slouched in the corner booth, eyeing the empty bar as he spoke quietly into his talk-box. "Been trying to work out why Jak does the...the thing. Why he looks like a desaturated Mar when he does it. All I got is that Praxis picked up a hu'men experimentation hobby."

"I wish I could say that didn't sound like a logical progression of his depravity," Damas hissed on the other end of the line. "Do you...know which form is Jak’s natural one?"

Sig knew what Damas was thinking. He'd wondered it himself. Was Jak made in Praxis's lab? Was the tiny child resembling Mar his truest form and the young teenager a disguise to protect him?

But to the best of his knowledge, it was the other way around.

"The taller one -- with- with Mar's kinda hair -- that's his base shape. He's still learning how to control the dark stuff. That's why he gets stuck in Baby Mode as often as he does. Used to make him real mad, now he just thinks it's funny. But while we're on the subject...I have a request. I know you don't want to get involved in the civil war beyond runnin' guns, but-"

"Spit it out, Sig."

Sig rubbed the skin under his prosthetic eye and groaned.

"I'm scared for Jak, man. Every time I see him, he's weaker. Kid’s about to drop over the edge of exhaustion and he keeps trudging on because he says "they" told him to. And I'm pretty sure he's talkin' about the Underground. Now, I know it's off agenda, but- I wanna follow him back. Find out whose trying to work him to death and straighten em out."

He could almost see the shrug as Damas answered.

"Why're you asking me? He's your kid."

Something warm fluttered in Sig’s stomach and he grinned despite himself. "Yeah. He kinda is at this point, isn't he?"

The line was quiet for a few seconds. Time enough for sounds to begin emanating from the street. Then,

"When you find Mar-"

When. Not if. As if his success wasn't even in question, even after two years.

"When you bring him home, bring Jak, too. I want to meet this kid -- in person, this time."

"You think I'd let him and Daxter stay here?" Sig scoffed.

Just then, the door swung open, bringing with it the ottsel's familiar voice.

"I'm tellin' you, sweetheart, it's all about the pine-pears. Slice em, grill em, put em on the steak. I guarantee even Hoverboy will love it."

Tess walked in with the boys -- Sig didn't blame them for walking together. This wasn't the nicest neighborhood even without the KG -- and she giggled.

"Daxxie, I've never even had pine-pear. How am I supposed to convince Krew to put something on the menu if we can't get any?"

Jak looked worse than before. The circles beneath his eyes were deep and purple, and he looked dehydrated. Daxter perked up from his shoulders to glance in Sig’s direction.

Crap. He loved the boys, but they weren't ready to know about Spargus yet.

"Hey, shift's gonna be starting soon, hon. Imma have to call you back."

"I beg your pardon!?"

Damas sputtered, not sure whether to be offended or amused. After a beat, in which he must've heard the other voices, he sounded calmer. "Ah. You have company. Carry on."

"Yeah yeah yeah. No, I'll remember. Don't worry about it," Sig said quickly, and a little louder than necessary. "Milk, eggs, paper towels. You need me to grab anything else when I clock out?"

Jak stopped next to his table and cocked his head with a soft frown.

"Who you talkin' to?" he asked.

With a sardonic lilt, Damas’s voice grated in his ear.

"Oh, is that my "stepson"? Tell him to take a nap."

"Tell him yourself!"

"Sure. Watch your ears."

And before he had time to brace himself, Sig had his ears ringing as Damas raised his voice and loudly called,

"Hey kid! Be good for your old man today. Take a nap when he tells you to this time."

Sig flushed scarlet from the tip of his ears to his neck when he heard the usually stoic king burst into uncontrolled cackling.

"I am going to get him for this," Sig muttered as Jak’s face twisted in confusion.

"Who the heck is that?"

"A menace, that's who," Sig growled. "Ignore him."

Jak, unfortunately, did not.

[radioactivepeasant]

Unscheduled Dark Jak Wednesday!

The little gremlin wanted to cause a little chaos, so behold: the first in a series of crack snippets I wrote for the Demon Baby au!

(Warnings for blood mention, reference to slight body horror, and implied violence. Because this is still Dark Jak)

The dark eco of The Chair was measured carefully. 50% blue, 20% yellow, 30% red. The same ratios, every single time -- Jak thankfully would never know that they'd worked out that ratio after four different subjects melted in their cells after the wrong mixture. And when he'd first transformed, snapping the restraints when for the first time hope arrived in the form of Daxter, Jak had been the embodiment of that recipe. Built for speed and power. And he siphoned every drop of dark eco he could out of that machine as he slid off the Chair, so that they could never use it again.

But outside the lab, dark eco wasn't measured and precise. It was as chaotic in its makeup as it was in its behavior.

In hindsight, Jak wondered if that's why it felt different.

When the KG approached -- oh, how does it feel to be in front of me without bars to protect you? Without me in cuffs? Are you afraid yet? You're going to be--- that toxic cocktail from the injector was still burning painfully in his veins. It was too easy to lose his grip, to be dragged under by that rage even as he felt panic rising in his lungs.

This isn't me-! What's happening to me?! Help me!

Through the hungry, hate-filled thing's eyes, the KG weren't his tormentors. They were nothing but prey. Livestock to be butchered. And butcher them he did. For every beating in the common cells they'd pointed and laughed at, he returned it tenfold.

And then the eco ran out.

Shaking with adrenaline and nausea, Jak stumbled. His boots squelched in a pool of blood, and eco rose out of it and spun into his body. He was breaking down the corpses and- and feeding off their eco.

He wished he could feel horrified by that. He wished he didn't feel like it was justified.

But dark eco made by drawing disparate ecos from decomposition was far more random in its makeup. And when it built up like rising pressure in his chest, even as Jak screamed inside, he changed again.

It was fast, at least. But it hurt, it hurt almost as much as the Chair.

And then-

Why was the world so big? Why did the prey grow larger?

Jak stumbled, tripping on oversized boots. His clothes pooled around him like blankets, and he couldn't even see his hands when he looked down. Why?

Stuck. Don't like that. No! No traps! Get it off getitoffgetitoff!

Snarling, he flailed to get his arms free and something fell over his eyes, blinding him.

"What the ever-loving, snot-flicking, abso-flipping heck?!"

Oh. Friend! Da- D- Dax-ter. Daxter!

Daxter came into view, at eye level.

"Jak? Is...that's still you, right?"

Jak nodded and the things fell off his eyes. Oh. Goggles.

The little boy hiding behind the old man peeked out, and his mouth made a little "o".

"Hi?" he signed.

"Hi??" Jak signed back, or tried to with floppy sleeves.

"Dax help. Eco wrong? Can't...control flow. Not okayokay."

Daxter sucked on his teeth. "H'ohboy. I dunno how to help, pal. But uh...last time you changed back after slicing up a bunch of guards, right? Maybe thats whatcha need to stop being...Demon Baby."

The old man stared down at Jak with eyes so wide he thought they'd fall out altogether.

"That's...interesting," he said faintly, as if in shock, "...that's very interesting."

Jak scowled and wriggled out of the pants. The tunic hung down to his calves now. He needed to be able to move! He shook off the gauntlets and growled. It was high pitched and quiet. He didn't notice.

Fight them fight them not hurt Daxter not hurt friend!

Two guards at the end of the street saw their comrades' empty armor lying in pools of blood. With shouts of alarm, they ran towards them, guns drawn.

"What the hell is that?!" One of them yelled, pointing at Jak.

Jak spread his claws and leaped.

Yes. Hell. Got out of hell. Gonna send you there.

(More chaos to follow later)