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muddthebugg · 1 year ago

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Straight Outta' Haven('s Krimzon Penitentiary)

Original prompt being "faith, suspicion, murder", this fic was a delight to write!! Also my first formal fic for the Jak & Daxter series, so I'm excited to share it with y'all.

Thisssss is gonna be an angsty and intense one, so watch those tags. Other than that, good timezone, and I hope you enjoy it!

and if you wish or prefer, this is also up on AO3!

. . . . . . . . .

Length: 1,335 words

Characters: Jak

Summary: He just has to wait, hang in there, have a little faith.

[TW: Imprisonment, Mentions of Maltreatment and Torture, Self-Hatred/Negative Self-Talk, Suicidal Thoughts]

"Don't worry about it, Jak! I'll save ya before you know it!"

Daxter's last words to him, echoing endlessly in his mind. Every time the guards treat him roughly, every time a gesture of his pain goes purposely ignored, he squeezes his eyes shut and recalls that memory.

He just has to wait, hang in there, have a little faith. His friend—Daxter, his partner—he would come through. He always did back in Sandover. Heh, how much could an ancient warp gate change?

Enough, he soon finds. It is hard to tell how long he has been in this hellish place, but as the treatments grow worse, his coping grows nil. He began to forget things. The smell of the sea, the shade of Samos' skin, Daxter's face. His form, his voice! Precursors, his voice...! The one thing that has filled his mind at all times, like a comforting mantra keeping him grounded.

But there is no Daxter here. No Keira, no Samos, no nobody. Just the guards.

Just the guards...and Errol.

It is one of the worst days of his life, meeting Errol for the first time. Not only because the commander was a sadistic egotistical asshole, but because of his own shame. For all the good and light he holds Daxter's memory to, he can never apologize enough.

It is hardly a blip of a second when he sees the hair peeking through the barred window of his cell and thinks: is that Daxter? The color might be off (it has been so long since he last saw Dax' mytter form, he's not sure if his judgement can be trusted), but he can't let that hope smother. Has Daxter finally come to save him?

The door opens, and his hope drowns in an instant. No matter what resemblance he noted, all of it washes away under the gaze of those hungry amber eyes. It is not long before they are well acquainted with each other, and he discovers a growing urge to rip out those eyes.

Still, it doesn't help him remember. With Errol's doings on top of his usual runaround of the prison, the thought is one that chokes him worse than usually.

The mindless wonder, the creeping suspicion... that maybe Daxter isn't coming after all.

He can't get it to leave him alone, no matter how often he wills the thought away. It always came creeping back to him in the dark of night, in the swell of him alone with his thoughts, nagging incessantly.

What if, what if, what if, it hisses. What if he's dead? comes first, making his heart skip a beat. Then shaky reassurance; ottsel or mytter Daxter is a tricky and wily thing to catch. Given his ottsel form, it is that much more difficult to bind anything around the slim, wriggly guy.

Right! Daxter wouldn't make it easy, he would go down bombastic like he always is! Everyone would know it, he would have heard talk of it even in the prisons!

What if he just left you to rot?

What?

You always held him back from what he could be, his mind hisses, a chill curling over his bony shoulders. They weren't feeding him enough, he was a growing boy—

You got him turned into a pitiful animal! Why be so surprised he would take the first chance to be rid of you?

Jak shivers and tries to will the thoughts away. Daxter said it was okay! He said—!

He lied. You couldn't even turn him mytter again, he had to do that himself! And you think he will just forgive you? Just like that?

It isn't like there is anybody around to stop this dark spiral, nobody that cares. So his hope and prayer fade, slowly, to nothing. There is no point, is there? Either he would have to escape by himself (by some straight miracle) or he would... he'd....

...you'll die here.

It is only a few minutes into their next encounter before Errol catches on, taking note that something was... different. A minor difference in behavior, yes, but a palpable one nonetheless. That horrible man latched to it like a tick to mytter skin, adjusting his "conditioning" to such intensities that Jak began to forget everything. The fisherman's boat, the shape of Samos' hut, the pathway he and Daxter would take from the village to Sentinel Beach... Every other thing that made him up. Every other little thing that he was. Bashed and beaten, then channeled away.

First by those cursed eyes, cursed hands, senseless conditioning. Then, by the ever-constant dread of Jak's existence: Dark Eco.

He can't entirely remember his first time interacting with the stuff. Of course, Misty Island comes first to mind, but something about his surroundings makes his mind... tingle, a little. Either way, it becomes familiar to him then and there. It weaves itself into his mind and memory like everything from the prison does, binding tight to his very soul.

It is horrible, as is all things in this new world. It is inescapable, as all things in this place. He has no refuge.

But the worst thing, he finds, is that it is all for a purpose. When before he could find comfort in the scientists not seeming to know what they were doing (maybe, hopefully, they would slip. Make some kind of mistake and accidentally kill him), that phrase that left Errol's lips sparked something in him.

"I don't want delays! He has been conditioned like all the others. Lasted far longer than all the others!" He hates it, he hates that he has to hear this. "You don't want to be the one explaining to Baron Praxis why his prized specimen isn't ready to be presented, do you?"

Prized specimen. This... Baron guy. He was doing this on purpose. Not searching mindlessly, but meticulously siphoning poison into people? Forcing their bodies to channel dark eco?

It is then, his fading hope and growing numbness edges itself into something new. The chill of the cell, the cool indifference of his captors, all chased away from boiling, slithering rage.

The Baron wants super soldiers? Powerful little toys to fight for his army? To win for his army? To be good weapons and kill whenever, whatever, whoever they are told?

He doesn't know what it means to be a soldier. Frankly, he doesn't give a yakkow's left teat. He's been a hero, he's been a warrior for a small stint. He's fought would-be conquerors, he's fought monsters.

So, he decides, he will give the Baron a monster of his own.

As per the norm of this wretched place, things get worse. More sessions, more stimuli, more of Errol's scathing voice and cursed eyes. He's never wanted to rip them out more than then.

And as well, he wasn't entirely wrong before. The scientists are working desperately to try and please the commander, and thus please the baron. Though they have no idea what they are doing. Unfortunately for Jak, their desperation comes in searching for some reaction none of them know to look for.

All this endless agony, for what? A few brief crackles of dark eco across his chest and extremities? But still, still the baron demands they do more. Up the rate of channeling, raise the volume of transference!

At least Errol knew when to quit. But this greedy, sadistic—he was worse than Errol in some ways. No, in all ways! To have set up for this... for this.

So bad his existence becomes that even when he sees Daxter's furry mug again, hears that high-pitched and frantic voice of his, the rage nearly blinds him in red and, more interestingly, indigo. Only one intent is the driving force of his feet. It is not his renewed hope, it is not his utter elation. Standing over all, guiding him to Daxter's voice and made alight by said rage was but one smothering, bristling intent.

He was going to murder Praxis.

#jak & daxter #jak and daxter #imprisonment #torture #self hatred #suicidal thoughts #trigger warning #please take heed of these tags #and let me know if I need to add any more!!#ocean's void and island's lapping crests #potat stories

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chqnified · 2 years ago

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hi!!!! I hope you're ok!

What songs do you associate with each skz member? & Why?

Hi!! <33

Thanks for asking, I hope your doing ok :)

Part 1

Bang Chan:

It's a comfort song that makes me feel at home in a way i want to cry. Chan gives me exactly those feelings. I would have also said daddy issues by the neighborhood, but, that's just officially the song assigned to him by stays atp. I also feel like Somewhere only we know fits him better in some way.

Yeah

No idea why. Feels like the colour purple and Chan feels like the colour purple- but like purple neon lights. Anyways.

Lee Know:

Minho gives major Chase atlantic. How does he not? So. Conclusion. All Chase Atlantic songs. Maybe more specifically Paranoid, Friends, Swim.... Those genre chase atlantic songs.

Yeah. Again. It's just a vibe. Something about him being the type of dancer his is, idk.

Unhinged. Just like him <3

Changbin:

Big boy by sza if it was a proper studio recorded actual song. He owns the song atp.

He would definitely cover this tbh. The lyrics are like those he writes, the rapping is his style. It's just him??

Works it and serves. Just like Changbin. Periodt

Hyunjin:

I'm not sure why i associate this song with him, i think it's just the overall sound and vibe.

I don't have an explanation. slow reverb it and it fits so well like wtf. In my mind both songs here link to him being an artist (as in painter, sketcher etc) and him saying he's a hopeless romantic. It's all vibes, I don't know how to explain it. Side note, i adore this song, i have a lot of good memories tied to it <3

#I found a lot of songs reminded me of both Lee know or Hyunjin. it was hard to pick #chrxsify asks

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cyarskj52 · 1 year ago

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View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cici Loves You (@cici.loves.you)

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cici.loves.you Will it work? 😏😏😏

And to be generous we are not looking at all the sins - just the season 10 ones. (I still hold out hope for Tom and I will let you know why at the end of the post) 💓💓

Let’s go over them real quick? 😈 because yes I have time today 😬 #vanderpumprules

1. Breaking a pact he made with his (the ) wife of not hooking up with someone in the friend group

2: Making out with Raquel and not even being apologetic about it.

3. Disrespecting Katie on numerous accounts (but hey, what else is new)

4. Covering for Sandoval, because yes he obviously did.

5. Went along with being a decoy (okay, this one is 50/50 because even though I do know he knew before, I don’t know if he already knew in Mexico)

6. Didn’t properly stand up for Katie and Teri when Sandoval told Teri to ‘shadafakaap’

7. Defended literally anyone over Katie

8. Lied to Ariana - who also was his friend. Even though Sandoval was his boy, he could have pushed him more to tell Ari

What am I missing? 🤔 anyways, I do think Schwartz has redeeming qualities, however I don’t want to see a Schwartz apology your ‘23/‘24 - I want to see him distance himself from Sandoval and maybe, MAYBE he can find the right path again. Are you reading along @twschwa ?! There is hope for you, just take out the trash 🗑 first. xoxo

💓💓💓💓🫶🏼🤭

#bravoholics #bravoholic #lisavanderpump #tomschwartz #tomsandoval #raquelleviss #teamariana #arianamadix #katiemaloney #scheanashay #jameskennedy #lvp #vpr #andycohen #somethingabouther #takemetochurch

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lyrasky · 4 years ago

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【Mazzy Star/ Be My Angel】和訳宿命の女＝素直な女 Femme Fatale

【Mazzy Star/ Be My Angel】和訳宿命の女＝素直な女 Femme Fatale LyraのBlogへ #mazzystar #bemyangel #hopesandoval #davidroback #マジースター #shehangsbrightly #sotonightthatimightsee #mybloodyvalentine #massiveattack #thejesusandmarychain #rainparade #colmociosoig #femmefatale

『Femme fatale』随分前に和訳した【Fade Into You】の時に、Hopeのことをそんな風に書いたけど… 全く悪い意味で書いたのではなく、寧ろ「自分と似た部分を持っている女性」としてリスペクトして書いたの。この世は、自分らしく生きると横槍が入り、生きづらくなる世界。「その中でいかに素直に自分らしく生きていけるか？」が人生の課題かもしれない。それにね。日本だとFemme…

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hope-sanchez-sims3 · 6 years ago

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Saturday Night .. 💃✨ I have done unpleasant encounters at the club. 😔👺

My new Pose of groups, for DOWNLOAD Here❤️ (simfileshare,no adf)

Thanks ❤️ :

@miasanchezsims3love , @rimshardshop4 , @chrisdouglashyena ❤️

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starrycassi · 2 years ago

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I was talking with a friend about buying earrings, then the conversation went to our poor money management, and then;

Neil as an

✨ accountant ✨

Idk if for the foxes OR the raven

Let's do ravens first because I clearly have a serious favoritism over Raven!Neil out of all aus

Yes this could be serious HOWEVER I feel like doing silly little things

Kevin "Oh yeah ! My skin in naturally like this, I guess that all that exercise really keeps the acne away" Day vs Neil "I'm the one that has to order your five-step skin care rutin with like ten fucking different products just shut up already "

Neil is the one in charge of the diet. As a punishment, he gets the ravens a lot of fast food

"Oh you want to be the best? Well, play with sugar induced energy and nothing but that this week. YES SANDOVAL THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR POOR PERFORMANCE. EVERYONE FUCKING CLAP AT HER"

He's a player too but no one is quite sure of how's captain, either him or riko

Riko "we are engaging in a all sea food diet this month to experiment with omega 3 and-"

Neil "No, we aren't. If you do that the only thing we'll be experimenting is a shortage on the amount of money the little lord allows to use in food and I am SO not about to start balancing everything out AGAIN. You can stick to the normal food and have sushi like at weekends"

Neil is also the accountant of his father's business so he's quite important for Ichiro, yk

What I'm saying is: Ichiro and Neil brother-ish relationship is everything I do because I love THEM.

Ichiro calls Neil like one day after Riko turned sixteen and goes "Do we have enough money to buy him a car?"

Of fucking course they do but Ichiro enjoys putting the boys against each other because life is hard kiddos.

Neil sighs very loudly and answers "We can afford the car. What we can't afford is having him crash it around time and time again so he first needs driving lessons"

Riko's right there the whole conversation.

So basically, Riko and Neil have the same power but not the same "assignments"

Because Neil can be a fucking figth-starter but he's also really good at maths

Riko is crazy. Plainly and simple (no it's not so simple I want to analize him around like a piece of broken glass)

Jean "Nat, I need new clothes for the upcoming banquet"

Neil "No the fuck you don't. You need some sewing classes and that's all"

He's so done half the time

"KEVIN AND DEREK, STOP SLAMMING EACH OTHER AGAINST THE WALL IN THIS INSTANT. YOU HAVE BIG DICK'S WE GET IT. THOSE HELMETS ARE NEW. IF YOU WANT TO DO THAT, TAKE THE FUCKING HELMET OF AND KILL EACH OTHER ALREADY I'LL BE CHEAPER TO FIND TWO NEW PLAYERS THAN TWO NEW HELMETS BIG ENOUGH TO FIT INTO THOSE HEAD OF YOURS"

"... we're going to stop right now—"

Neil, very late at night, broke into Kevin and Riko's room with a coffee on hands: "Riko. Riko, I don't care about your bullshit. No, look at my face, do I look like I give a fuck? 'cause I don't. Stop fucking torturing the god-damn players. The medical bill is almost as high as the other ones fucking mixed. I understand you have some weird fetishes and such but keep them out of the fucking court"

Riko, still half asleep: "It's about showing power, ownership, punishment, it's about control and-"

Neil, now wishing he was dead: "I'm sure your brother will be happy knowing that you're damaging the property of the Main Branch because you want to get a boner. Find some good porn and stop making this so weird. Good night Kevin, I hope you have some good earphones

Neil, 3 am, should be asleep but Jean is having a moment ™ because of his claustrophobia: "Ichiro this is ridiculous. We are not going to paint everything black AGAIN. It makes us need more AC money because it's so fucking hot in here. It's also such a weird color to find and so fucking pricey and for WHAT? it makes no sense to have it everywhere. It looks good on a suit not in the whole fucking room"

Ichiro, 3:30 am, should be asleep but his little brother is having a moment ™ of ranting because of some stupid color: "But do you understand that I don't even care about that? Talk with Kengo or something. Don't call me at this hours again unless someone is dying or I'll cut your throat open"

The idea is just so funny to me

"Nat, can we have for dinner some-" "Absolutely not. I don't know what you want but no. I refuse to. I saw your credit card score last month. So many lube and condoms, now go eat that shit if you're so hungry.

"Nat there's a man with a gun searching for u in the university saying that he's your faithful servant" "...shit, I confused my address and my dad's again"

"Why are there so many different dresses in my doorstep on a box, Junior?" "Why are there so many different knives on a package for you, nat?" "I really need to get better with addresses"

#should I continue this? probably #i Always get idea like .5 seconds before going to sleep #aftg #aftg au #raven!neil #aftg and my insomnia #I'll do the foxes some day #i guess

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deanwbigbang · 2 years ago

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That’s a wrap for Dean Winchester Big Bang 2022! Below the cut, you’ll find all the fics and art created this year! Check them out and leave their authors and artists some love!

See you next year!

Number One Preference by RogueTranslator | art by Solstheim dean x cas, T, 11.9k

CASTIEL, the Complex Artificial Symbolic and Tactile Intelligence capable of Emotional Learning, is a personal AI under development at The Sandover Corporation. In hopes of impressing the company’s leadership, Sam’s tech team spends the summer of 2032 installing CASTIELs in the homes of executives. Dean, a Senior Vice President of Marketing who happens to be Sam’s workaholic older brother, is one of those executives. Though Dean starts out skeptical of personal AIs, he and CASTIEL soon become fast friends, and Dean begins developing a new marketing strategy for CASTIEL that emphasizes the bonds between machines and humans. But when the board of directors finally makes good on a threat to shutter the CASTIEL program permanently, Dean has to rely on all his skills as a marketer to get them to change course and save CASTIEL.

fic | art

Through This Dark Tunnel by YohkoBennington | art by DWImpala67 dean x sam, M, 8.2k

After a hunt went wrong, Sam is left to pick up the pieces. Trying to put them back to who they were while considering a change in their lives proves to be a whole new set of obstacles he thought they were done with.

fic | art

broken glass (a million pieces of lumpy meat) by swordofsun | art by imjustgonnareblogthis dean x cas, T, 8k

Dean takes Jody's advice and allows himself to be broken. Just for a little bit.

fic | art

Final Days of Eden by tendency | art by ncdover1285 dean x cassie, T, 11.1k

Dean’s got a great girl he’s in love with, and he’s managing to split his days between working at a mechanic’s shop and hunting while still having plenty of time for Cassie. He could definitely see spending the rest of his life like this (if only he could stop feeling so guilty about the lies he has to tell her).

fic | art

Take the Long Way Home by Amypond45 | art by MidnightSilver dean x sam, M, 10.3k

Dean grew up an only child. When his parents die in a car accident, he returns to Lawrence to sell the family home and move on with his life. Then, one day, a Tall Hot Dude pulls up in a crappy used car.

fic | art

Enspelled by zaffre | art by R-ifann dean x cas, T, 5k

Rowena curses Sam for the Winchester’s involvement in Crowley’s death. Now it’s up to Dean to learn magic to save him. It’s just that easy and just that hard.

fic | art

Straight Boys and Queer Hearts by Out_of_nowhere | art by PetraAmia dean x reader, E, 6.6k

You have a one night stand with Dean Winchester, not expecting it to be anything more. To your surprise, Dean wants to see you again. The thing is, you know about guys like Dean, and how relationships with guys like him usually go.

fic | art

Figure It Out As I Go by jld71 | art by DWImpala67 dean x sam, E, 44.4k

After discovering that he’s pregnant with Sam’s pup and thinking that Sam doesn’t want him because Sam has never made the move to claim him, Dean decides to leave Sam and the safety of the bunker to start a life on his own with his pup.

fic | art

Summer Blues by MiracleofWinchester | art by art rover dean & sam, M, 11.2k

As Dean sits here alone in the dark of this summer's night, going through some sort of an introspection journey deep down memory lane _ as he’s finding himself doing more and more for a while now _ as he tries his hardest to make sense of things. Of memories. Yes, Dean thinks; hindsight is like looking through a sharp, new set of eyes. Sometimes disorienting, yet the closest thing to crystal clear. ——— Or Dean Winchester spends one summer night down memory lane. it's nothing much, just his entire life really. or maybe get would go through just a few key moments down the line.

fic | art

Hush by Squeevening | art by alexiescherryslurpy dean x benny, E, 9.7k

Here's what might have happened in Purgatory between Dean and Benny. This fic is a happy-for-now, because I've watched this show very carefully, *especially* the breakup scene between Dean/Benny and Sam/Amelia, shot with equal weight, where Dean says ADIOS - which he only says to lovers the morning after - and you cannot tell me Dean and Benny weren't CANONICALLY dating. :-D Anyways, this is sweet and hot and I found it incredibly addicting, not because of the sex, but because of how endearingly pathetic Dean gets before he figures out how to ask for it.

fic | art

Heaven is a Place on Earth by Bexgowen | art by Solstheimart dean x sam, E, 64.7k

Dean Winchester is a lonely, repressed ad-man whose only vices are his 1967 Chevy Impala and the sex worker he sees every week. When Anael unexpectedly cancels Dean's appointment with her at the Heaven and Hell themed brothel, Dean agrees to make an appointment with another of Heaven's angels. A male angel, who goes by the name 'Castiel', and who unlocks desires in Dean that he thought he had buried deep, deep down. But there is a darker side to Dean: a side that Dean discovers when he ventures down to Hell and meets a demon named Alastair. Will Dean listen to the angel on his shoulder and follow his heart, or will he succumb to the temptation of the demon on his back?

fic | art

The Michael Sword by deansmultitudes | art by zxro dean & cas, dean & michael, M, 6.3k

There’s no stopping the apocalypse. Best Dean can do is make sure that the slightly better side has a fighting chance once Lucifer wears Sam to the prom. He makes a decision—he’s going to say ‘yes’ to Michael. And there is nothing that can stop him; not Sam and Bobby locking him up in the panic room, and most definitely not Cas’s fists bruising his body, drawing blood, bouncing him around that dark alley like a rag doll.

fic | art

#dean winchester #dean fanart #dean fanfic #supernatural #big bang masterpost #dwbb #dwbb masterpost

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moomingitz · 3 years ago

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It’s... interesting looking back at the Jak and Daxter series, because when the second and third games first came out during my edgy teen years my mindset for them was mostly, “OMG Jak is now a buff and rugged edgy boi, he’s saying curse words, and has a literal edgy dark side to him. And Daxter is a big playboi who doesn’t hide his love for bewbs. Jak and Daxter is no longer for babies but for mature big kids like me!”

But looking at the series now; Holy shit, Jak has had it rough. Where do I even begin? This is going to be long, so get comfortable:

First, Jak was ripped away from his father at a very young age due to an insurrection. Then he was kidnapped by one of the people who was responsible for it, with the intention of being used to awaken some ancient Precursor technology, but luckily he somehow escaped and then was taken in by a rebellion group.

Then he was sent back into the past to be raised by Samos, the Sage of Green Eco. While that was a good thing for Jak, since he was able to grow up in a loving and supportive environment, what happened to him before that is something that would still be traumatic to a little kid especially in the form of something like Separation Anxiety. While this goes into headcanon territory, I can’t help but wonder if that had a lot to do with why Jak was the mostly silent type before the events of the second game. But thankfully he was lucky to grow up with two best friends like Daxter and Keira.

Surely you think that would be the end of misfortune Jak would have to go through. Wrong!

Fast forward to where he’s now 15 years old and everything seems all good and exciting after he and Daxter saved the world from Dee Snider and his twisted sister. Sure they didn’t accomplish what they set out for by turning Daxter back into his old humanoid self, by Daxter is content staying as a furry anyway. At least they saved the world and found some ancient Precursor technology. But hold up! Turns out it was some kind of rift gate and the moment they activated it some giant bug monster pops out and they’re all separated and thrown into some new place they’ve never seen.

Literal seconds later, before Jak or Daxter have any time to react or process what exactly just happened and where they ended up, Jak is immediately arrested and knocked unconscious, despite doing nothing wrong. He’s then tortured and experimented on for the next two years, in hopes of turning him into a living weapon by pumping Dark Eco into him. Keep in mind Jak was only 15-16 years old during those nightmarish two years of his life. But his BFF Daxter never gave up looking for him and eventually rescued Jak.

Upon busting out Jak has no damn idea where exactly he is, and when he does it turns out him and Daxter are now in a totalitarian, police state of a hellhole where never ending propaganda is blared everywhere you go, and where Jak’s only crime is just existing. Oh, and there’s currently an ongoing war between this police state regime ruling the city and some species called Metal Heads, so the territory outside the city is near inhospitable. So just simply leaving Haven City isn’t really an option. It’s either deal with the Krimson Gaurd who will get on you for just sneezing in the wrong direction, or claw your way for survival outside the city walls.

Until finding Samos and Kiera much later, Daxter is the only familiar and welcoming face Jak still had until then(the only exception being Sig in the “welcoming face” department).

Oh, and it turns out those Dark Eco experiments gave JAk some dark Hulk like form that he has trouble controlling(at least that’s what the game tells us). Oh, and they eventually learn that this shithole place they found themselves in is actually their home 500 years into the future. Oh, and it turns that this little kid they’ve been having to protect from both the Krimson Guard and the Metal Head army is actually Jak’s younger self.

Despite all that, the rebellion group and many of the criminals they had to work with eventually warm up and even become their friends, the authoritarian regime eventually crumbles, and they kill the Metal Head leader. Even though Jak doesn’t go back to his childhood home in the past, Keira, Samos, and Daxter choose to stay with him in the future, so he’s definitely not alone in the end. Happy ending earned, and that should be the end of all the bad stuff to happen in Jak’s life, right?...

Of course that wouldn’t be the end of bad traumatic shit to happen to Jak!

Right after the events of the second game, Jak is not only blamed for the fallout of the Praxis regime falling and the Metal Head army’s demise, but he’s outright banished to the Wasteland, no thanks to some weasely council member, Veger.

But ya boi Daxter snuck out to join Jak in his exile, so at least Jak still has his best friend with him. Jak now has to survive in a Mad Max esque land after proving himself worthy to Damas, the leader of some refuge village. But it’s kind of good because he slowly gets on this guy’s good graces.

Oh, but later on it turns out this Damas guy is actually the very father Jak was forcibly separated from during his very early childhood. But, Jak only figured that out just as Damas was dying, and he didn’t have a chance to tell Damas that he was his son that’s he’s been wanting to find for years.

It also turns out this Veger douchebag was one of the people aside from Baron Praxis who was responsible for Jak being separated from Dadmas, and was the guy who kidnapped him in an attempt use him to obtain that ancient Precursor technology.

Of course everything works out in the end. But yeah... You see what I mean? Jak was put through the wringer during the events of this whole trilogy! He's done nothing wrong! Yet starting from a very young age he’s either been targeted or dragged into other’s messes for just existing, or for something he had no choice to do in order to survive. The only real thing he did wrong was dragging Daxter over to Misty Island, which led to him being accidentally transformed into an ottsel in the first place. But the events of the first games was all a lighthearted adventure anyway. Aside from that it’s been one unfortunate or traumatic event after another for Jak.

When letting everything Jak went through really sink in, there’s guaranteed trauma and the resulting PTSD this poor guy is going to have to address or else it will inevitably manifest itself in some way later on. Acting gruff and blase' will only work for so long. I know some people get tired with pieces of fiction being compared to Steven Universe, but Steven’s eventual mental breakdown seriously came to mind. And some people will say, “It’s just a vidya game, stop thinking too much into it.”, but there was a conscious decision to take this series into a more dark and mature direction after the first game. So, it’s a bit hard not to think about more possible unpleasant implications based on what happened in the sequels, especially when looking at the events of the games through the lenses of today.

Taking all of this into consideration is also why I think Daxter is seriously the “MVP” of the series.

Daxter grew up being Jak’s best friend, which I’m sure helped Jak a lot after being separated from his father and taken to a literal place in time completely different and unfamiliar to him. I’m very sure his time growing up in Sandover Village and hanging out with Daxter was the best period of Jak’s life. Even after Jak dragged him to Misty Island, accidentally causing him to be transformed into an ottsel, and sacrificing his chance to be turned back to normal in order to save the world, Daxter showed no hard feelings towards Jak and he even learns to like being an ottsel.

He spent two years trying to find out where Jak was being held prisoner in Haven City, and infiltrated the place once he did and helped Jak escape.

And despite not having any fingers pointed towards him for the fallout after the events of the second game, Daxter still chooses to join Jak in exile in the Wasteland.

Daxter has never shown any ill will towards Jak despite him being the one responsible for being turned into an ottsel, and he’s never really abandoned him even when he is given many chances to or a way to get himself out of really bad situations. Despite everything, Daxter is still the same quippy, upbeat dork of a friend Jak has grown up with.

I really believe Daxter helped a lot with keeping Jak’s sanity intact during all of the hell he was put through and beyond. If there was a guaranteed way for someone to sign their own death warrant with Jak, I think harming or outright killing Daxter would be it.

#Jak and Daxter #Jak II #Jak 3 #Daxter #Damas

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years ago

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER NINE: BODIES

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2600 Rating: M - strong language, canon-typical violence, gun violence, blood, major injury, character death, Bad Samaritan spoilers, angst A/N: I have spent months falling in love with this boy, and I want you to know, this hurts me as much as it does you...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sean snapped as soon as Derek greeted him.

“Out,” he answered vaguely, swallowing nervously.

He was prepared to lie to his best friend but hoped to get through the conversation without actually having to. He wanted to tell Sean what had happened, but the last thing Y/N would want was her cousin freaking out about her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I was busy and couldn’t answer my phone, or the seven messages you left dawg. I know this guy’s crazy but you’re starting to get there too.”

“Quit taking the piss, Derek. This is serious.”

“I know. Chill. If we’re going to be laying low for a while, we’ll need stuff.”

“Well while you were out shopping,” Sean said sarcastically and Derek felt himself getting annoyed, “things got worse. I’m on my way back from the hospital--”

“Oh yeah? How is Y/N? She call you to pick her up or something?” Derek asked, half-mumbling into the phone which he pressed between his shoulder and head while he fumbled to find his house key in the dark.

He was surprised that she had actually looped Sean in, but not upset by it. In fact, he was glad, some of the tension he’d been feeling settling. If they were both in the same place, he and his Mom could meet up with them and everyone would be together, safe.

“Yeah, Erendreich put Riley on a ventilator…” Sean sounded like he was going to cry, and the relief he’d been feeling changed to an icy shard of terror. “Did you say Y/N?”

Shit. She hadn’t told him after all. And with the news about Riley, Derek didn’t want to either.

“No. Nah, dawg, you’re paranoid now, or too tired or something. Hearing things. Why would Y/N be at a hospital?” He tried to laugh it off, hoping it just sounded like nerves.

He lowered the phone from his ear, setting it on speaker and turning on the flashlight. As he struggled to find the keyhole, he heard Sean say something about how Erendreich was trying to “systematically fuck his life” and then about not being able to video call right now. He frowned at the comment and the unusually dark living room.

“Ma?” Derek called, getting only silence in return.

“Derek, would you listen to me, please?” Sean begged, but it barely registered. Something was wrong, and he could feel it.

Ignoring his friend on the phone, which he tucked into his jacket pocket, he moved further into the house. Remembering a trick their mom had taught Bela when she was having problems with a boy in the neighborhood (and refused to let her big brother walk her everywhere), he rearranged his keys to poke out between his fingers like brass knuckles.

“Ma? Are you home?” he called again.

He crossed the living room to the kitchen door, hand reaching around the frame for the lightswitch. His eyes fell immediately to his mother on the floor, a pool of blood behind her head, and the other figure at the table, a knife between their shoulders. He hadn’t even had time to process who it was when he felt a sudden impact across his back. Derek pitched forward, dropping the keys and barely managing to stop himself from slamming face first into the tile. Abandoning his investigation, he pushed quickly back to his feet and ran around the corner for the stairs. He needed to get away, or at least to find something better to defend himself with.

You were discharged from the hospital a surprisingly short time later, with bandages and pain medications and instructions to rest and follow up with your regular doctor. Somehow you had gotten away with no broken bones and no abrasions that needed stitches, nothing that needed to keep you there. A stroke of luck.

When Derek and Sean didn't answer their phones, you fought down a bubble of panic, trying to tell yourself they were just being safe and not giving Erendreich a way to track them. But something still didn't feel right as you called an uber, or as you sat in the back, waiting for him to take you to 4855 Northwest Hamilton.

Derek managed to make it up the stairs to his room, slamming the door shut behind him and looking around wildly for something to brace it with. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, maybe climb out the window, get back in his car, and run? At least he knew he had an old baseball bat somewhere — in the closet maybe? — and it would be better to have that when this psycho came in than nothing.

The door burst open as Erendreich came in with a yell, swinging a bat (probably the one Derek had just been thinking of) at him and connecting solidly with his stomach. He fell to the side, winded and struggling to breathe past the rapidly contracted muscle, and collided with his desk.

“Oh shit,” he barely managed to hiss as he dove out of the way and Erendreich, still shouting, brought the bat down where he had been moments before.

Seeing no other option, Derek swung wildly, fists colliding with the other man’s face, and he felt a smug sort of satisfaction at the solid sound of the impacts. Erendreich stepped back, Derek continued forward, not wanting to give in now that he finally had a chance to lash out. This man had hurt Y/N, had threatened his best friend, and had killed his family. There was no way in hell Derek was going to let him get away with it, not anymore.

Erendreich’s face set in a grim line as he bumped lightly into the closet doors. Then Derek was sailing backward, stumbling into the shelf where his high school sports trophies and other knick knacks were displayed. He felt the shelves, and the sharp points of several of the awards, dig into his back and his breath, which he was just starting to get back, was knocked from him again.

Erendreich screamed, an almost animal sound of rage, as the bat smashed the top of the shelf, just narrowly missing Derek’s head. He stumbled forward, out of the immediate path of the bat and remembered the small handgun hiding in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, protection in case the guys from the neighborhood ever came looking for his brothers.

As he moved for it, he made the mistake of putting his back to the psycho killer in his bedroom, a mistake that only occurred to him as the bat made contact again, slamming in quick succession into his back as it had downstairs and then the back of his head.

Derek lost his balance, lungs screaming for air and head spinning from the impact as he collapsed face-first onto the ground. Still, he tried to drag himself forward, groaning in pain with every movement, to get to the gun, or get back on his feet, or something.

“Looking for this?” Erendreich taunted, whistling for his attention like Derek was a dog, “this you stole? Huh?”

He bristled at the implication, feeling a burning rage in his stomach as if that was the most despicable thing the guy had done. Or maybe it was just his mind trying to cover up his fear and the grim, crushing certainty that he was about to die.

He managed to roll onto his side, to position himself to at least sort of see the man looming over him.

Erendreich continued to speak, his droning insults and mockery blurring as Derek’s consciousness began to waver.

“You are beyond correction,” Erendreich concluded with a scoff.

Derek felt cold metal against his skin. His thoughts leapt to Y/N, praying with what might be his final moments that she would be okay, that she would forgive him for leaving her like this.

The house was dark as you pulled up, the only lights coming from Derek's still open car door and a single window on the upper floor. Your ride stopped, and your hand froze on the handle, eyes fixed on a familiar car in the shadows across the street.

“I'm so sorry,” you said, smiling apologetically at the driver. “I must have put the wrong address in. Would you mind? It's just a few houses up. 4859.”

The driver shrugged, slowly continuing down the street, the tires crunching on the pavement seeming to match the churning in your stomach. Every beat of your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest as you finally exited, walking up the neighbor’s drive as if everything was normal before doubling back across the lawns to Derek’s house when the driver was gone. If Erendreich was there he probably wasn’t lying in wait for you, to finish off what he started. But the nerves in your body still sang as you approached, pain momentarily forgotten in fear.

The sedan. Sean not answering his phone. Derek not answering his. You didn’t dare call the house. Derek’s car. The front door open behind the screen.

You struggled to take a deep, calming breath as you crouched in the bushes, looking for some sign, any sign that things weren’t horribly, horribly wrong. A sharp crack echoed through the still night and there was no question in your mind what it was.

You smothered a sob into your hands as you hunkered further down, waiting for some further sign. You wanted to run inside immediately. You wanted to find Derek, so badly that it felt like you couldn’t breathe until you did. But if Erendreich was inside, and there was no doubt he was, you had to wait.

Seconds dragged on. Everything was too still, too silent. You wondered if the neighbors heard anything, if anyone had called 911. Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump. You looked down to silence it, seeing that it was Sean and typing out a frantic message:

‘Cant talk. Will soon.’

In your momentary distraction, you almost missed someone exit the house, looking up through the leaves of your hiding space to see a shadowy figure strolling away, climbing into the stupid silver car that was going to haunt your nightmares from now on, and driving away as if it were a quick grocery stop for milk. As soon as he had rounded the bend, you were on your feet and dashing into the house.

“Derek?” you called, into the silence and darkness. “Mrs...Ma?”

You made a quick round of the living room, looking for signs of disturbance, not bothering with lights as you navigated the layout that felt almost instinctual after months of visits. Finding nothing, you made a choice. There had been a light on the second floor, so there was almost certainly someone up there. Feeling like there were iron straps around your chest, you took the stairs in twos, moving as fast as you dared despite the way your body protested.

The scene that greeted you when you rounded the corner into Derek’s bedroom made you recoil, hands pressed to your mouth to suppress a scream. It was trashed, like someone had gone through it smashing indiscriminately, but you barely noticed, eyes falling to the prone form beside the bed and the dark liquid starting to pool around his head.

“No...no no no no,” you couldn’t help chanting the word, like if you said it enough times, it would somehow stop reality as you dropped to your knees beside him. “Derek, baby, please say something?”

Your tears, spilling hot and fast down your cheeks, made his form blurry, too much to see exactly where or how he’d been hurt. But you could still tell there was blood everywhere. You felt blindly for his wrist with one hand, while the other fumbled to unlock your phone. Just kneeling beside him you could feel the sticky liquid starting to seep into your jeans and your fingers were slick where you’d touched him and the floor. You took a deep, shuddering breath as you set your phone on speaker beside you and tried to find a pulse.

As the operator answered, you tried to explain what you’d found, what you knew, all the while alternating it with begging Derek to keep fighting, promising that help was on it’s way.

“You promised,” you whispered, leaning close and trying to find a wound, hoping to staunch the flow of blood, “you said you wouldn’t leave me, Derek. Please. Just hang on.”

You were sitting on the curb, glaring daggers at the news anchor talking about a domestic disturbance gone wrong, clearly trying to paint Derek as the culprit instead of a victim, when a familiar truck pulled up. Sean practically tripped over himself getting out of the car and scanned the crowd, looking for something, or someone.

Your body groaned in protest as your cousin spotted you and pulled you up into a crushingly tight hug that you did your best to return at equal strength.

“Y/N, thank god you’re alright,” he breathed, still not letting go.

“Yeah. For now. I...got here after it happened. I found...god Sean there was so, so much blood,” you buried your face into his shoulder with a sob. “I was just waiting for the scene to clear, and then I was going to go to the hospital.”

“Are you hurt?” Sean asked, pulling away to look you over. “What? No. I mean yes cus someone, probably Cale, tried to run me over earlier, but that’s not...someone should be there for him when he wakes up.”

“I was on the phone with him. I heard the gunshot. I thought…”

You shook your head. “He’s still breathing, which I guess is something. His mom and father were in the kitchen...this is my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He was with me, in the hospital, freaking out but safe. And I sent him back here when we realized that none of this was a coincidence. If I had just--”

“You might have both been here instead. This wasn’t your fault, Y/N. Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital before I go after Erendreich.”

“Before you...excuse me?!” You stared at your cousin in shock and horror, barely remembering to keep your voice low and not catch the attention of the still gathered crowd. “Are you out of your fucking mind Sean?”

“He came after Mom and Don, tried to kill Riley and Derek, and you, because he’s trying to destroy what I love, everything in my life. It won’t stop until I finish it.”

“No. If that’s true, that’s all the more reason that we should both go to the hospital, where there is a lovely, protective, police presence and sit with our partners and be there for them, and wait. this. out.”

“Riley won’t talk to me. She blames me. And she should.”

“Fine. You sit with Derek, I’ll go to Riley. She probably doesn’t hate me just for being related to you. The point is you’re not going after Erendreich, especially alone. Please Sean.”

“I don’t have a choice. I have to end it.”

“That is the job of the police and the FBI, not a 20-something valet in over his head.”

“Are you going to let me give you a ride?”

You sighed with a nod. At least the drive would give you more time to try to convince Sean not to be so stupid.

#yes this is that chapter #I considered several horrible terrible wonderful song titles as a chapter title #I should have used one of them because this one is bleh #but y'all are gonna be mad at me already #poking the proverbial hornet's nest seemed unwise #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #gun tw #violence tw #angst #whump #Tragedy Thursday #aaaand RUN AWAY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME I'M SORRY

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corvus--rex · 3 years ago

Text

Another one that's been put down for a nap. I actually have the four planned chapters outlined, it just takes a particular head space to write. It's a 90's au, which means that there is period-typical homophobia involved. Our boys are musicians still in the town they grew up in. Note: they both smoke (I'm sorry), and there's a brief mention of underage sex (both are high school seniors).

@jilli-bean, this is more of the au my paragraph came from. I remembered you asked if I would tag you when I wrote more of it. Here it is so far!

~*~*~*~

~~*~~ present day – June, 1997 ~~*~~

“So, like, I guess he’s gay or whatever. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just, like, y’know?”

The voice belonged to a girl in a sundress talking to her two friends while walking by. Keith stayed where he was leaning against the side of the building and flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke in a sigh. Saying “there’s nothing wrong with that” was just the same as saying “no offense” and then being offensive. He’d lost patience for that phrase a long time ago. But even as done with it as he was, it was still better than getting kicked out of his last foster home three weeks before his eighteenth birthday after being outed by the family’s biological son.

The boys were the same age, and Keith’s foster brother Wyatt was upset at the time for Keith having better grades and, more importantly, attracting the attention of the girl Wyatt had a crush on. The ensuing fight over the girl led to Keith confessing his sexuality, and petty jealousy led to Wyatt telling his parents. His social worker was a godsend, and after a conversation with his best friend’s parents, Keith found himself moving in with them that night. The guest room became his permanently after that. He’d moved out into his own apartment with his best friend Lance McClain-Sandoval when he started college, but the McClain-Sandovals were one of the closest things to a real family he’d ever known. That first night felt like coming home for a second time, and the midnight conversation they had while lying on Lance’s bedroom floor would be forever burned into memory.

~~*~~ October, 1991 ~~*~~

They were supposed to be in bed already. The next day was a school day and both boys knew that Mariana would have their asses if she knew they were still up, but they didn’t care. Lance knew how bad Keith’s foster family was and had nearly crushed his mother in a hug when she got off the phone with Keith’s social worker. He had been the one to pick Keith up from his social worker’s office. And he’d been the one to drive to the Jacksons’ house with him to retrieve everything Keith had left behind. They found it all boxed up on the front step with a note reminding him that they just couldn’t have “someone like him” in their home and around their children. Keith, and Lance, took great pleasure in watching that note go up in flames in the fire pit in Lance’s backyard.

Keith had been fostered in the same large town of Arus for the last three years, and he and Lance had been friends since the first day Keith transferred to Arus High School only two months after the beginning of their freshman year. They had come out to each other in the summer after sophomore year, both relieved that they wouldn’t lose their best friend. They were even more relieved when Lance’s parents Mariana and Diego told the boys that they would love them both no matter what, and that it was no one’s business who they loved. Now it was only one month into their senior year and life was changing again.

“Tomorrow’s gonna suck,” Keith sighed.

“Yeah, it probably will. Wyatt’s an asshole and he’ll tell everyone. Probably starting with what’s-her-tits and blowing any chance he has with her,” Lance agreed.

Keith couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Michelle? Yeah, little fucker never had a chance with her to begin with. She’s been banging Chris Proctor all summer. Won’t shut the fuck up about it, even when she’s hitting on me.”

That made Lance roll to face his best friend. “Wait, seriously? I thought she hated him. Something about basketball players not being as good as football players.”

Keith rolled onto his side. “Yeah, that’s what I’d heard, but I guess she doesn’t hate his dick.”

Lance snorted, but when he saw how the strings of fairy lights lit Keith’s face and the sparkle of laughter in his deep violet eyes, his breath caught. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was a bad idea. It had been only hours since Keith was kicked out of the Jackson house, and this wasn’t some summer sleepover spent fantasizing about the future. The crush he’d been nursing for his best friend burst into full bloom, and he couldn’t stop himself.

Noticing the change, Keith’s brows furrowed. “Lance? What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head, “You’re beautiful, y’know that? I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.”

Keith’s expression softened. Lance confessing to feeling something more than just being best friends made a warmth settle into his bones. He’d thought his own crush would go unrequited forever and had begun to adjust into the idea that they would remain best friends and nothing more. Lance had just given him hope, and he wasn’t going to let the moment pass.

“Yeah? So are you. I thought I wouldn’t ever get to say it. But if we’re confessing…”

Impulse overrode higher thought, and Lance found himself inches away Keith’s face before he realized what happened. “Can I?” he asked in a soft whisper.

“Whenever you want,” Keith answered just as quietly.

Their first kiss was soft, gentle. It carried the relief of finally knowing how the other felt, and the promise of exploring those feelings. It was hesitant, nervous. It felt as though they were both worried that it was nothing more than a dream and that they’d wake up sore from falling asleep on Lance’s bedroom floor. But the very physical sensation of touch – Lance’s fingers threaded through soft black hair, the light touch of his thumb across high cheekbones, Keith’s hand sliding up soft t-shirt fabric, gripping the lean, compact muscle – it reminded them that they were very much awake, and that their kiss was very much real. When they separated, Lance pulled them back down, Keith nuzzling into his neck.

“I never thought kissing my best friend was something I’d ever do,” Lance said, basking in the afterglow of their kiss and the feeling of Keith in his arms.

“Mm, maybe not, but what about a boyfriend?” Keith asked, delicate fingertips tracing patterns into the t-shirt he had been holding so desperately only moments before.

“Yeah, I could get used to that.”

~~*~~ present day – June, 1997 ~~*~~

Keith was so lost in the memory of his first kiss with Lance he didn’t notice he was no longer alone until there was an arm on his shoulder and the cigarette was gone from his hand. He startled, then realized it was Lance. Keith was well aware how much Lance loved his leather jacket rocker look. It went well with the core of his music taste – a little punk, a little grunge, a splash of metal, a healthy dose of rock. He didn’t look it, but Lance’s tastes ran pretty much the same; it was one of the things they became friends over. But as much as Lance loved Keith’s daily wardrobe, Keith loved Lance’s more casual outfits, almost always topped off with the denim jacket whose back panel he had painted with a dragon and phoenix before gifting it to his boyfriend for his 18th birthday.

“Fucking hell, don’t do that!” he hissed. “Also, excuse you, that was mine.”

Lance just laughed through the smoke. “What, you worried about germs? We do a lot more than just swap spit, babe.”

Keith heaved a sigh, shaking his head at his boyfriend. “Yeah. I know that, and you know that, but I don’t think all of Arus needs to know that.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ve figured it out by now. I’m not exactly subtle, and almost the whole town knows about you after senior year of high school.”

“Fuck I still hate that asswipe. Ok, I’m done talking about him. You, me, Mario Kart, and the six-pack in the fridge.”

Lance crushed the cigarette butt under his sneaker. “Ooh, Mario Kart and pizza night. I still need to beat your ass at Rainbow Road.”

“Not gonna happen,” Keith threw over his shoulder as he walked away. He took off running when Lance gave chase, barely beating him to the truck.

As much as Keith’s true passions lay in art and music, he was also a skilled mechanic thanks to his foster father Carlos. He’d been with the Villalobos family for two years before a family emergency meant that they had to leave California for their parents’ native Mexico. If there was any other family that had felt like home, it was theirs. Carlos and Pilar treated him like one of their own children, and Keith got along with Daniela and Alejandro (Alex to his friends) like real siblings. They were back in California now, and he’d been able to reconnect with them and fill them in on what had happened with the Jacksons and how it had ended well despite them. After hearing about what had happened after they left, Carlos and Pilar had immediately called Lance’s parents, and now the two couples were good friends, the Villalobos slipping seamlessly back into Keith's life.

Keith had worked his way through college, and kept him working currently, thanks to the skills Carlos taught him. It was also those skills that got him his second most prized possession, the first being his his guitars. Keith had been working when the truck’s first and only owner brought it in on the back of a tow truck. He had bought it new, but the transmission on the ’94 Toyota Pickup blew out, and it wasn’t worth fixing. Keith said that it was a total waste of an otherwise solid pickup, and the owner told him that he could keep it if he promised to fully repair it. Six months of working on it in his spare time, and Keith had a rebuilt transmission and a fully working Garnet Red Pearl, extended cab Toyota Pickup.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

#my writing #abandoned wips #klance #keith x lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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asunshinepuff · 4 years ago

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Secrets of the Darkened Seas

🧜🏻‍♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter three! Please please please give a like and follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @ladynightmare913 ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help!

She’s incredible and deserves so much credit for working on this alongside me cause she works so hard. And I feel horrible that she isn’t getting the credit deserves.

Especially since this chapter includes some of her own ocs in addition to my own! There’s a lot of new faces to join us! All credit for creation goes to each other for our respective characters because we’ve both worked so hard to create our ocs and I wouldn’t dare want to take credit away from her.

As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however, it will be explained over time so no worries. There’s no mention of lore for right now.

The Included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We will not take credit for it’s writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out!

Also! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so that you don’t miss a new chapter!

Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy!

If you’ve missed any chapters here’s the link to the masterlist for this story Secrets of the Darkened Seas 🧜🏻‍♀️

Small warning at the start here, there is a minor character death included in this chapter.

Chapter 3: A Sea of Fireworks

Three years passed as The Dragon’s Pearl sailed the seven seas. There had been many fierce battles and grand adventures as Remus learned the ways of the sword from both Captain Hua and First mate Sandoval. During the past few years, Remus found a particular fondness for literature that grew further than when he was younger. Along the way, there have been many new companions to join the shipmates, and the secrets of a certain young man were revealed. A year on his own at sea taught Remus many things, but he couldn’t help but miss the company of those upon The Dragons’ Pearl.

Now at seventeen summers old, the once young boy has grown into a fine young man.

Under the sea, there was a mythical creature with bright shimmering amber scales, varying in shades of accent tones from the top of his tail, to his fluke. The moonlight breached the surface of the darkened sea, the light reflected off of his amber eyes, as if they began to shine and glow under the moon’s pale beauty. His medium length tawny colored hair flowed around him in the cool waters. The mer turned down before his arms moved forwards as he dived down deeper into the sea. The deeper he went, the darker it became.

As he reached the seafloor, he swam at a leisurely pace, brushing a clawed hand against the seagrass. Looking up, the seagrass became littered with life, crabs, small, fish, seahorses, an octopus, and coral. He chuckled to himself as the fish scattered when he swam near them, a green sea turtle by his side seemed to follow him, wherever he went. It had felt too long since he had last been in the sea.

Remus’ head turned sharply upwards as he picked up the sound of a muffled screeching noise coming from the surface. Then a muted bang before a flash of scattered gold light. With a strong flick of his tail, the floor beneath him vanished from sight as he neared the surface.

Breaching from the water, he looks up to the familiar ship with concern, “Opal! What’s happening?!” He yells up to the deck.

In an instant, a tall beautiful greek woman, around the age of twenty-three, with long light brown hair, hazel green eyes, lightly tanned skin peered over the railing of the deck to respond. She was dressed in a sea-blue off the shoulder long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into her light brown pants, with a black corset vest on top, and black boots. At her hip was a wide sword with a dark blue sheath, and its hilt had the detailing of a trident.

“Min-Jun received a letter! We have to make port in Portland! The Blacks and Greyback were spotted off the coast of Dorset!” She lowers the rope ladder and opens the small gate, “Get your tail up here!”

Remus catches the ladder with ease and pulls himself up onto it, “What’s the sudden hurry? We’re currently off the coast of Dorset ourselves.” He comments, looking back up to his friend.

“Quinn’s family lives in Portland, he thinks they’ll be going after them!” Opal replies, tossing down a blanket for Remus to dry his scales with.

Remus winces as the blanket lands upon his head, frowning as it blocks his view. Pulling the soft cloth from his head, he sets to work on drying himself and his scales, “But why would they go after his family?” He yells out.

Opal pauses, a somber look upon her face as she watches Remus make his way up the rope ladder with his two legs, scales now nowhere to be seen. She shakes her head as he reaches the deck, “I don’t know. But I think something’s wrong.”

Two-quarters of an hour pass with The Dragon’s Pearl sailing at full speed to Portland. The sea seemed to be at their side that night, the sound of cannon fire reached the members of the crew. The lifeboats were lowered with First mate Sandoval and Remus inside one of the boats.

Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the pitch-black sails of The Ophiuchus which could barely be seen from a distance. The ship’s colors had a black flag with a white skull with a snake coming out of an eye socket. The Blacks. The ancient pirate ship passed down from generation to generation of Blacks. Rumors and tales continuously traveled from sailors aboard many ships about the family, the ship gaining the nickname of Grimmauld amongst the gossiping sailors. Remus had heard many tales himself in the past.

The Blacks were ruthless in their pliage for gold, leaving no survivors. There were tales of The Ophiuchus battling The Dragon’s Pearl when Captain Orion Black attempted to steal the other Captain’s ship. Although Captain Hua was young, he forced the Blacks to flee when their ship suffered too much damage. The Captain of The Dragon’s Pearl had given them a warning years ago that should he ever see them again, he would kill the Captain of The Ophiuchus.

The boats reached the docks before everyone ran up to the small town of Portland. Quinn cut down any pirate who foolishly stood in his way. Remus followed close behind, sword drawn at the ready, and cut down any pirate who tried to go after Quinn whilst the man’s back was turned. Remus had grown used to the occasional battle, but hardly ever were the stakes this high. Opal and Captain Hua had stayed on the ship with a skeleton crew, while the other sailors joined Remus and Quinn to shore.

Remus stopped in his tracks when one of the pirates was running straight for him. With the sword in his hand, Remus quickly stabbed the pirate in the abdomen before pulling his sword free and running to catch up with Quinn. Who was running up a hill towards the Lighthouse faster than Remus had ever seen the man move.

Up close the lighthouse was rather beautiful for its old age, time had been kind to it, yet the years have clearly made their marks all throughout the house. The lighthouse more than likely had many stories to tell. Standing tall with red and white patterns, a small quaint cottage at the base of the lighthouse became visible as Remus neared the property. The house was alight with shadows dancing across the windows as pirates breached the door, the sound of clanging swords could be heard coming from inside the house. Quinn cut down pirates until he finally managed to enter the house.

Quinn’s eyes widened as he surveyed the state of the house, there were countless pirates from both the Black’s and Greyback’s sailors engaged in sword fights. There was hardly a break as he entered the fray of battle, cutting down unsuspecting men from behind and never letting his guard down.

A middle-aged woman with black hair tied into a messy bun, bright brown eyes, fair skin, and rosy lips gripped the rapier in her hand tightly as she slashed down another pirate. She twirled expertly, her white nightgown and dark robe twirling with her, to dodge a blow from another pirate before she stabs them, she pulls the sword free before she raises it to the man who just entered the cottage, freezing as her eyes widen in surprise. “Quinn!” She exclaimed before her eyes darted to a pirate behind him who began to stir awake.

He smiles at the exclamation before following her line of sight, turning behind him he sees the pirate that began to stir awake. Flipping the hilt of his sword in hand, he stabs the newly conscious pirate in the chest before turning back to the woman, “Mother are you alright?” He looked over the cottage, objects just laying scatter on the floor before he looked back to his mother.

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s your father I’m worried about, that blasted Greyback cornered him to the basement!” The woman turned her gaze to the young man who just reached the door, quickly assessing him before offering him a small nod. “And you must be Remus.”

Remus nods in return, “I am. How did you-” He cuts himself off as the answer was obvious and gives his First mate a pointed look, “Quinn. You’ve told them about me haven’t you?”

“Remus. Who do you take me for? Of course, I did.” Quinn mirrors the same pointed look back, “How else do you think Min-Jun and I were able to help you as a child?” He looks back to his mother, “We better move quickly. Hopefully, father is using the basement to his advantage.”

“Quinn, this is your father, of course, he is.” The woman turns to a door that leads to a staircase to the basement. Quickly lifting her skirt the woman rushed down the stairs.

The three rush down the stairs and into the large dimly lit basement, which could only be described as a very large study with storage. Bookshelves lined the walls and the shelves themselves were stacked with a variety of mythical things one would only believe to be within the tales. Color bottles and vials littered the shelves of the room, various plants were in every corner of the room. In the center of the basement, a large man with a cutlass scoured the room with a harsh glare for the man who was hiding.

The man wielding the cutlass was large, nearly the height of Min-Jun and Quinn, he had a vicious looking face, with very long matted grey hair in dreads, a scar going across his right eye, the iris pale compared to its twin which was pitch black. His left ear had a gold hoop earring, his teeth were visible as he sneered at others who interrupted his dual.

Remus’ eyes could only widen as he looked upon the large man, his breathing quickening and grip tightening on his sword. Every part of him grew defensive and fearful, his instincts screaming at him to get out. To run. He’s heard of this man before, Fenrir Greyback, a notorious and ruthless hunter of mers alike, capturing and selling mers for profit, or simply to just experiment on them. Other times he’d simply slaughter any merfolk he could find.

Greyback’s knuckles looked raw and battered with blood as he gripped his weapon tightly, his long yellowish nails were easily spotted as his right hand pressed against his chest, a wound with fresh blood seeping through his grey shirt. “This isn’t over.” He snarled before he ran out the basement door.

Hidden behind a bookcase, was a middle-aged man with tousled red-brown hair with long bangs parted to the left, light-colored skin, and blue eyes. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a grey robe, light brown pants, and dark brown boots. Eyes trained as he watched the burly man closely, sword drawn at the ready to continue the duel. He made no motion to move as Greyback snarled in warning, back pressed flush against the wood until he could hear the pounding footsteps a safe distance away.

Relaxing marginally, he exits his retreat behind the bookcase and sighs, “That man is repulsive.” He mutters under his breath.

“You’re not wrong about that father.” Quinn chuckles as he gently pats his father’s shoulder.

“Why would Greyback come all the way out here? Why would he attack you?” Remus looked at the older man.

“Probably because my husband has something he wants.” The older woman looks to her husband. “Are you alright?”

The older man looks to his wife and nods, “I’m alright. If anything Greyback’s in much worse shape. That wound is going to leave quite a scar if untreated.”

“What was he after?” Remus looked between the older couple.

“Something no one should know exists.” The woman looked around the room. Muttering under her breath at the state of the room. “But rumors are a powerful thing, especially when they hold truths.”

“And especially if it makes you incredibly well known in the nautical world.” The man continued with a sigh. Moving aside his robe, he pulls free a rather thick leather book from an inner pocket and looks down at it. “He’d be a fool to think I’d just leave it lying about.”

Remus’ eyes looked over the leather book. At first glance, it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Remus knew better than to judge a book by its cover. It was what’s inside the book that Greyback took a slash to the chest in order to obtain. And failed. Whatever information that was contained inside the book was important. Why else would such a siege upon this small home occur? Enough to bring both Greyback and the Blacks themselves here.

“This book is the only one in existence.” The woman looked at Remus as she stood beside her husband. “It’s about your kind.” Gently taking the book from her husbands’ hands, she holds the book to Remus. “My husband wrote everything he learned about the magical creatures of the sea.” She smiles as she encourages Remus to take the book.

“About my kind…” He repeats at a whisper before a realization comes to mind, amber eyes widening at the thought, “That’s why he wanted the book. To hunt more merfolk.” A cold shudder runs down his spine at the thought of Greyback getting his hands upon this book. No wonder the older man fought to protect it with his life. Mers alike would be in even more danger than in the past. And after seeing the man in person, Remus felt as though the rumors didn’t give any accurate insight as to how gruesome the pirate actually appeared, and the snarling tone of his voice would most likely echo in his mind for days.

At the older man’s nod in confirmation, he looked back at him. “How long have you been working on this?” Remus asked as he took the book, with careful hands.

“Many years. I was a bit younger than you when I first started writing the beginning pages.”

Remus looks down to the worn leather book and opens to a well-kept page, Fantastic Nautical Creatures, by Newt Scamander. Remus’ eyes widen at the title and familiar name, pausing mid-turn of a page. Wait. Remus looks at Quinn with wide eyes, before he looks back to the older couple.

“You’re Newt Scamander,” He looks to the woman, “And you’re Porpetina Scamander!”

“Please, call me Tina dear.” She rubs Remus’ arm in a comforting manner.

Remus looks to Quinn, an unreadable expression upon his face. Quinn had called them mother and father. That means… “You’re their son?!”

“Quinton Scamander is my real name,” Quinn answered with a simple shrug. “Sandoval was the first thing I could come up with when you asked for my name. I’m not exactly used to keeping an alias.” He looks at his parents. “Why couldn’t you have just kept it at Quinn?”

“And leave the Scamander tradition of giving horrible names? I couldn’t possibly.” Tina chuckled.

“Oh, you wound me, mother. What a way to keep tradition.” Quinn replies with a wince.

“It’s not like my family did any better.” Tina retorts just as the sound of cannon fire boomed, echoing throughout the basement. Tensing, everyone turned their heads to the back door, and with a nod from Newt, they exited the damaged basement and headed to the cliffs.

As the group ran back towards the shoreline, Remus could see The Dragon’s Pearl exchanging cannon fire with The Ophiuchus. The ships both suffered blows from the other, only the Dragon’s Pearl wasn’t on fire. And what appeared to be Min-Jun, swinging on a rope, from the Ophiuchus back to the Dragon’s Pearl.

Quinn only groaned at the sight. “And he gives me lectures about swinging from a rope.” Hypocrite. “Why are you like this…” He mumbled under his breath.

Tina and Newt only chuckled as their son scowled at the captain. They ran to the docks just as the Ophiuchus began to make their retreat, and the Dragon’s Pearl making its way to the loading docks. Opal was the first rush down to welcome Quinn and Remus back.

Quinn had a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t place as he looked over Opal. Relieved that the woman wasn’t injured in the crossfire, although he was well aware that she could easily handle herself. “Ti synévi?” What happened? he had asked.

“To shorten it: Min-Jun snuck onto Greyback’s ship and found two gorgónes. Mermaids. Brought them back to The Dragon’s Pearl, then snuck onto the Ophiuchus, rescued the second Black heir and brought him back as well.” Opal said with a shake of her head, “How that was possible, I have no idea.”

“Sounds about right,” Newt replied with a chuckle.

The older couple looked at their son, who had never told them he learned and spoke greek. Newt and Tina looked at each other before sharing a knowing smile. Tina looked to the woman with the greek accent. “I’m Tina Scamander, Quinn’s mother. I wonder why my dear son would fail to mention a lovely lady such as yourself in his letters?” She turns her head slowly to glare at Quinn, who found the sea far more interesting at the moment. Tina looked back to the young woman. “What is your name dear?”

Opal watched Quinn’s gaze quickly turn to the sea in embarrassment. Oh this awkward man. She fought the urge to tease the poor man, there was time to mess with him another time. Not in front of his parents. She smiled as she looked at Tina. “Opal Teresi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Remus looked to Quinn with a teasing smirk, “Really? You mention me in your letters but not Opal?”

“Shut. Up.” Quinn says with wide eyes that seemed to promise pain with an unnaturally wide smile.

“You’ll have to write to me dear, Quinn hardly ever writes what’s going on in his life. I have to rely on Min-Jun for that.” She tsks she pats Opal’s hand affectionately.

“I will,” Opal replies with a nod.

“May I see them?” Newt asks the young woman. “The mermaids.”

The young woman pauses for a moment and looks to Newt, “They’re terrified, so please. If there’s any way you could help.”

“Maybe I can get them to calm down?” Remus suggests looking to Opal and Newt.

“That may be for the best.” Opal agrees, “We better hurry, Min-Jun wants to leave as soon as possible. Before the Blacks notice their son is missing.”

Opal leads the group to the cabins, walking past many doors until they finally stop at one door with a circular window. Remus peered inside and froze when a pair of glaring eyes locked to his. Inside the room, there was a tall beautiful Asian woman with wet long dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, and bright red lips. She looked to be about Opal’s age. Her tail was a dazzling array of soft blue scales that looked like misshapen spots, with white scales as the base, her fluke was nearly a translucent shimmery white. Her skin was pale, her arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller mer. Her tail coiled around them protectively. Remus nearly gasped. The mermaid only clutched the child tighter, her glare never leaving Remus’ face.

The mer in her arms was tiny. A child, who couldn’t have been older than four. The mer child had short soft silky black hair that was in disarray, brown eyes, light sun-kissed skin. The child clung tightly to the older mermaid's neck, their tail had pale teal and shimmery white scales with the same patterns as the older mermaid, safely tucked under her arms. The mer child’s shoulders were shaking, pearls littered the blankets beneath them. Tears. They sat alone in the room, laying on top of a few spare blankets for the cabin beds.

Remus’ gaze was pulled away at the sound of running footsteps, a sailor running past them in haste, to the infirmary. On impulse, Remus followed the sailor as they walked through the door.

There Min-Jun sat on a chair, looming over a deathly still figure, his face pale. Min-Jun was holding the still figure’s hand.

Remus gulped, scared to find out who the figure was. “Who…”

Min-Jun looked up to see Remus. With pained eyes he looked back down to the figure. Gently putting the cold hand to rest on their chest.

“Ethan’s dead.”

Tag List: (Let me know if you wish to be added!)

@whataboutmyfries

@sunflowerfox87

@spookypotato

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #quinn scamander #min-jun hua #opal teresi #newt scamander #tina goldstein #minor character death #mysterious mers #orion black #fenrir greyback #asunshinepuff ocs #ladynightmare ocs #our ocs #pirate captian #pirate and mermaid au

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destieltropecollection · 5 years ago

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Destiel Trope Collection Day 25: Slow Burn

The difference between living and existing (WIP) | @lucy-is-alive

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6052 Main Tags/Warnings: John Winchester's A+ parenting, College AU, Sexuality crisis, PTSD, Childhood trauma, Recreational drug use, Angst and hurt/comfort Summary: As soon as he got the chance, Dean left his father behind and went to college. However, he never anticipated that the absence of the person who had disrupted his entire life would make it worse. With the help of his friends, he tries to navigate through the emotional hurricane that comes with complex PTSD.

Celestial | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10585 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, emotional affair, bottom!dean Summary: Dean is in a less than stellar marriage, but he assumes things will work themselves out. At the same time, Mr. Castiel Novak becomes his new co-worker at school and Dean has to rethink everything he thought he had figured out.

Welcome to the Badlands (WIP) | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15386 Main Tags/Warnings: graphic violence, dystopian au, fusion, into the badlands au, slow burn Summary: The wars were so long ago, nobody even remembers. Darkness and fear ruled until the time of the Barons, seven men and women who forged order out of the chaos. People flocked to them for protection. That protection became servitude. They banished guns and trained armies of lethal fighters they called Clippers. This world is built on blood. Nobody is innocent here. Welcome to the Badlands.

Profound Kisses | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20700 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, post 8x07 canon divergent, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, angst with a happy ending, clueless! Castiel, pining!Dean, Top!Dean, Bottom!Cas, slow burn, love confessions, first kiss, french kiss, Sammy knows. Summary: Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

Hate me, but love me too | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23310 Main Tags/Warnings: Virgin!Dean,f hate spell, hate curse, younger!dean, older!sam, Grace Sharing, First Kiss, First Time, Hate Sex, Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubious Consent, Cas is cursed, (not really MCD but Cas isn't alive in the beginning), Castiel has sex with somebody else in the beginning(and Dean sees it), Heartbreakbut I will fix it! Summary: Dean’s whole life changes when his mother tells him that John isn’t his biological father and he needs to save the world from his sibling Adam, who is the King of Hell. But he can’t do that alone, he needs the best Hunter earth had, Castiel Novak.

Starstruck (WIP) | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 40860 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Slow Burn, Actor Dean, Single Parent Castiel, Pining Summary: From the outside Castiel Novak looks like a regular guy: a good job, two teenage kids, a nice house and a crappy car he’s way too attached to. But there’s one thing no one knows about him: that, over twenty years ago, he used to live next to no other than Dean Winchester – back then a brash and loud-mouthed boy and nowadays a huge movie star and Hollywood’s sweetheart. Castiel never bothered to tell anyone about his childhood friend because frankly, who would believe him? Probably even Dean himself already forgot about his former awkward and weird neighbor, so Castiel seriously doesn’t see any point in mentioning the whole thing ever. But then an interview on national TV happens where Dean reveals way more about his past than ever before … and Castiel - as well as the rest of the world - suddenly realizes that he left a much bigger impact on Dean’s life than he originally thought.

Letter to Dean Winchester (WIP) | @castielsangel-blade

Rating: Mature Word Count: 44182 Main Tags/Warnings: Past Lisa/Dean, Past Aaron/Dean, Past Castiel/Dean, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Mentions of Past Cheating, Mentions of Past Toxic Relationship, Gray Romantic Castiel, Asexual Castiel, Epistolary, Bisexual Dean Summary: Castiel writes and sends a letter to Dean Winchester. He wants closure for the toxic relationship they had in high school.

Falling Apart | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 49204 Main Tags/Warnings: minor character death, sam deceased when fic starts, alcoholism, drug misuse, addiction, rehab au, soulmate au, flashbacks, ptsd Summary: Sword & Cross Resident Rehabilitation is a last-ditch effort for Dean Winchester to move past the drug and drinking problems he developed to bury his guilt over the fire that killed his brother. Not to mention the wild visions and smoky, sentient shadows that have plagued him his entire life. It's supposed to be the best Savannah has to offer, but one look at the crumbling tile floors and dangling crown mouldings, and Dean has his doubts. Enter Castiel Novak. He’s rude, aloof, and a total dick from the moment they lay eyes on each other but Dean can’t help but feel a mysterious connection to the man. Maybe he really has lost his mind. But when Castiel starts making appearances in Dean’s vivid visions of the past, he knows there is more to their link than meets the eye. Even if Cas keeps telling him otherwise. It seems everyone at Sword & Cross knows what’s going on except for Dean. Trying to conquer his mountain of guilt and doubt and figure out the connection he is certain he shares with Castiel is only made harder by the “accidents” that seem to follow him. Not to mention his attraction to Gadreel. Whatever secret Castiel is trying so hard to keep, Dean knows he has to uncover it.

Will you be my ten inch hero? | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 57468 Main Tags/Warnings: Bullying, Homophobic Language, Abusive John Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, giving a baby to adoption (not between Destiel), Rape/Non-con Elements, John kicked Dean out, Virgin!Dean, surprise guest appereance, Minor Crowley (Supernatural)/Bobby Singer, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Gabriel, two surprise pairings, not Ketch or Mick Davies friendly Summary: When John Winchester kicks Dean out, after he saw him kissing another boy, and Dean sees that Sam has a perfect life at Stanford without him, Dean starts a new life in Santa Cruz. He works at a tiny shop as a cook, has found some friends there, and is overall happy enough. That changes when Castiel comes into his shop and his Co-worker Azara, who has a different man every night, starts flirting with him right in front of Dean. Not that he would be jealous or anything, but there is something about Castiel that makes him weak in the knees. Only that Castiel would never want him back, right?

Roll With It | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 72818 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Secretary Dean, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, The Proposal AU, Alternate Universe, Romantic Comedy, Romance, Editor Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Sam Winchester at Stanford, POV Alternating, Geek Dean, Russian Castiel, Sharing a Bed, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Misunderstandings, Tattooed Castiel, Love Confessions, Slow Burn Summary: For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print. That’s the dream, anyway. Right now, he’s fucking late. Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country. ‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

When the Magnolias bloom (WIP) | @flurryflair

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 92951 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, human!Castiel, divorce, infidelity, middle aged destiel, explicit sexual content, top Castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, top Dean Winchester/bottom Castiel, POV alternating, unresolved sexual tension, denial of feelings, porn with feelings, anxiety attacks, manipulative relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, canon-typical violence, case fic, bisexual!Dean, demisexual!Castiel, semi-canon, minor Castiel/OMC, minor Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden Summary: It's been ten years since the Apocalypse. Ten years without talking, without knowing one another. Castiel has a company to handle and a wedding to plan, Dean has a broken marriage and a decision to make. They have separate lives, lovers and families of their own, they aren't supposed to meet again, to mess it all up. And yet they do, when they least expect it, and maybe when they most need it. A story about second chances, about hope and resilience, and a love that feels both doomed and inevitable.

Unsung Melody (WIP) | @toomanyships-sendhelp

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 177617 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Character Death, AU Slaves, Slow Burn Summary: Dean runs a busy bar and grill in Lebanon, Kansas. Semi-retired from hunting, he'll still catch a case when one blows his way or the urge to hunt strikes him again. It isnt until a case that opened decades ago claims another victim and Dean has to get back in the game a little more than he expected.

#destiel trope collection 2020 #destiel trope collection #destiel #slow burn #day 25

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 4 years ago

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I hope your hiatus helps and you have a good rest or whatevr it is that you need your break for. Maybe by the time you're back I'll have worked up the nerve to request something 🥰 until then I look foward to rereading your masterlist.

Any recommendations on other things to read to tide me over? Other people on here or real books?

---🦚

Thank you, "Hera."

I know I took a "hiatus" back in March, but it really wasn't one at all. I need to step back from the fandom more than writing. I'm still around in my inbox and on messaging though. I'm always world building with my friends, and I will finish Tupelo Honey if it kills me!

@robertsheehanownsmyass master list!! @super-unpredictable98 The Eighth Child and her Young Blades Series! AND Foreign Dreams about Luba @bisexualnathanyoung and her Community Blowback series! And @angst-fairygodmother entire library too, ESPECIALLY her Derek Sandoval series and Diego's ☺️ I mean her Luba is good too! @seancekitsch and her Prize Buck series and Lost Boys (for the wayback fan).

#hera the anon #the librarian #housekeeping

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beck-a-leck · 4 years ago

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OOPS! @valuvr03 got me thinking and having feels about Jak and Sig and I wrote a thing!

Set post-Jak3, cw for angst, alochol use, canonical character death, and Baby Jak feels! Approx 1.5k words. You can also read it on AO3!

Fair warning, it’s rough, I typed most of this on my phone so who knows what typos there may be.

What About the Boy?

Sig ducked out of the victory party early. Let it not be said that Daxter didn’t know how to scrape together enough booze and merriment to make even sand-crusted Wastelanders forget how truly broken the world was. That kid had a gift for bringing people together. But Sig wasn’t really in the mood for a party, even if he had cause to celebrate.

Before he had gone riding off to war, Damas had named Sig his successor to the Wasteland throne. Sig hadn’t actually thought that would be necessary. But Damas hadn’t made it back from Haven alive. His oldest friend and mentor was gone.

Haven didn’t mourn Damas like Spargus did. Haven had been without a king long enough to hardly miss him. Spargus had sent Damas off to the next life with all the pomp and ceremony he deserved. It was his wake that Sig left early, lingering near the back of the room as Daxter regaled an increasingly tipsy crowd with tales of his triumph over the Dark Makers. When the Ottsel was suitably distracted, Sig stole a bottle of the strongest stuff off the bar and slipped out the door.

He went up to the throne room, figuring nobody would bother looking for him there until tomorrow. The throne loomed in front of him – his throne now, he supposed – but he didn’t take his seat there yet. Instead he eased himself down on one of the lower steps, pulled off his boots, and soaked his feet in the cool water.

He was tired. Precursors, he was so fucking tired.

Sig opened the bottle, tossed the cap off over his shoulder, and took a long drink. He caught his reflection in the gently rippling surface of the water and laughed dryly. If Damas were here, he’d give Sig a swift kick in the ass for moping around like this. Nothing good ever came from sitting on your ass, feeling sorry for yourself.

Sig took another long drink. He stared at the tattoo on his arm, four letters that crawled around the skin, reminding him what was most important. Life. When it was new, it was meant to memorialize a friend, a comrade killed by a Metal Head. Over the years, more lives applied themselves to the ink beneath his skin. And now when he saw it, he would think of Damas and… and little Mar.

Biggest failure of Sig’s life.

It was his job to protect the kid, keep the baby safe from anyone who might want to hurt or use him. And when it came down to it, Sig hadn’t been there. Five minutes was the difference between him protecting the kid and his mom, and utter failure.

By now… the kid had to be dead. If he had been taken to Haven there was no way a kid that young and small could have survived everything that city had gone through. The Metal Head invasion, the war within the city, KG deathbots, and the collapse of the palace, too many children had died in Haven over the last couple years. Who was going to notice one more unclaimed orphan?

Sig had promised to bring Damas’ son back to him. He had failed that job too.

Maybe he should stop making promises.

The rattling elevator drew Sig’s attention. He looked up to tell whoever decided to bother him to go away, but the words died in his throat. He knew that blond hair and blue shirt. If anyone else deserved some time alone after everything, it was Jak.

The thrice minted hero dropped heavily onto the step beside Sig, he took the bottle when it was offered wordlessly. The kid had taken Damas’ death pretty hard. Sig wasn’t surprised, he had seen how much the younger man had grown to respect Damas. Hell, if things had been different, with a little more training and grooming, Sig wouldn’t have been surprised if he declared Jak his successor. They two of them were remarkably alike, in more ways than he suspected either of them realized.

Jak was watching Sig carefully, his eyes trained on his face. Several times he opened his mouth as if to speak, but opted for a drink instead. After the third of forth aborted conversation starter, Sig finally said, “Out with it, Chili Pepper, or just leave me to drink in peace.”

Jak was quiet for a moment more, as if he expected Daxter to jump in and start the conversation, but the Ottsel wasn’t here. The kid would have to get whatever was weighing him down off his chest on his own.

“I know what happened to Damas’ son.”

Sig turned to look at him fully, not quite sure he had heard that correctly. Hope bloomed in his chest. “Mar? You know where he is? Is he alive? Is he okay?”

Jak laughed dryly, quietly, “He’s had better days, but…” he reached into his pocket and pulled something out and placed it in Sig’s hands.

Sig knew what it was without having to even look properly. It was what he had been searching for for the last three years. Mar’s seal, the emblem that would identify the kid. He was supposed to always wear it; he hadn’t been without the seal since his birth!

“Where did you get this?”

“It’s mine,” Jak said.

“No.” Sig shook his head slowly. Jak wasn’t a thief, and he wouldn’t have taken this from a defenseless child, of even from a child’s dead body. Where the hell did he get this from?

Jak drew a deep breath. “You remember the kid Daxter and I went to rescue when we defeated Kor? The one with the Underground?”

Sig shrugged. He hadn’t been involved with the Underground or their side of the battle against the Baron. He had settled in with Krew in hopes the gang lord’s connections to even the darkest corners of the city would help him turn up any clue about the boy. But he vaguely remembered Daxter babbling about some kid that got sent through a rift gate. With a little prying, Jak had eventually revealed that he and his friends had traveled through time somehow, from peaceful Sandover village, Haven’s precursor.

“That kid was me. I was born in this place, in this time, but I grew up in Sandover. We had to send the kid back so he could grow up and become me, and destroy Kor, or he would stay in that time and be safe because I already saved him.” Jak shook his head. “Either way, before the kid left, he gave me the seal. Our seal of Mar.” Jak took the seal back and turned it over in his hands. He was quiet for a long moment before continuing. “I didn’t realize what the seal meant, nobody told me who his father was or why he was important. I didn’t even realize he was Damas’ son until he told me. When he was dying, he said I would know his son Mar from the seal he wore around his neck.”

Sig was dumbfounded. What Jak was suggesting was impossible. Little Mar was six years old, Jak was eighteen. He could accept that the kid Jak had connected with had been Mar, and that Mar was so far out of reach now, he couldn’t return. But the jump between Jak had connected to a lost little kid and had been given a gift, and Jak was that same kid, grown up and angry was a bit too far.

“It’s poor taste to joke about something like this, Jak,” he growled, “I’d expect that kind of shit from Daxter, not you.”

“I know it sounds crazy, Sig. Ask anybody, even Veger. He took me in the first place.”

Sig growled again at the mention of that rat-politician. Veger had always seemed suspicious, but he kept himself so scrupulously clean, even Krew didn’t have any dirt on the bastard. Sig had never been able to get close to him.

He looked back at Jak. His face was honest, even if he was doing his best to keep any emotion off it. Damas hadn’t liked showing weakness like that either. It wasn’t in Jak’s nature to joke about something like that, if he said that he and the kid were one and the same, and the kid was Damas’ son, then Jak believed that he was Damas’ son.

All this time, he had Damas’ son right there and he had never known. That trigger-happy lunatic with a death wish… he should have known. There was so much Damas in the kid. And, Sig realized, in a way he had kept his promise to Damas. He had found his son, protected him, taught him what his father couldn’t, kept an eye on him while he ran off trying to save the world. He had even returned Mar to his father – he had been the one to slip Ashelin the Wastelander beacon before the council exiled Jak.

Sig laugh, low and gentle, and threw his arm around Jak’s shoulders. “Shit, Chili Pepper, at least you made it back.” He fell sober for a moment, looking him over solemnly. “A shame Damas never knew but… he woulda been proud of you, Jak. I know he would have.”

Jak almost smiled, but Sig saw his eyes light up. “Thanks, Sig. I had a good teacher.”

#jak and daxter #becky writes things #i was in the mood for angst and found family feels #and i think I delivered #Jak and Sig's friendship will never NOT be precious to me and make me feel things

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