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inkofthebrain · 5 months

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Imperial

[ Paul Atreides x F!Reader ] 1307 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: I plan on writing a prequel at some point. This is most definitely going to be multi part

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One———

Your father stood beside you as the door of our ship slowly lowered, meeting the grassy ground of Caladan with a deep thud.

The air was cold, crisp, and smelt of the sea. The same sea you could hear smashing against the cliff side with the help of the impenetrable wind.

A fog lingered in the air as you watched four guards step out forward and as you follow, the Atredies household seem to rise out of the ground as you walked towards the estate.

Standing tall, cold, still and terrified you watch as the Duke of Atreides, and soon the Imperium, limps towards your father, bloodied knife in hand.

“The life debt has been payed” Irulan, your little sister, pushes out.

Your head snaps to look at her and instantly you speak, only thinking to spare your family

“Spare our fathers life and I will be your bride. The throne will be yours” you speak, looking the young Atredies in the eyes. Anger, chaos, and rage is all you can see within them.

Hidden behind layers of metal blinds and chain mail, your eyes went to the body of Feyd-Rautha. Still and cold. This is the first time anyone has seen him so… at peace.

Your body shakes when the Duke of Atreides drives his foot into the ground in-front of the Emperor. A horrifying silence fell over the room as he slowly outstretches his hand, the only sound in the space being the hot Arakkis wind and Paul’s labored breathing.

Fear. That is all you feel as you watch your father hesitantly take the Dukes left hand and begin the decent to his knees. How could this be happening? The imperium is going to swallow this naive boy whole and take your whole family down with him.

The second your fathers lips touched the cold metal everyone dropped to their knees, including Irulian. All who stood were you, Paul, and a fremen who soon stormed out. You took a deep breath.

Once you arrived inside Paul and your father disappeared to discuss the implications of this agreement. The transfer of your ownership.

You were left standing in-front of a large window facing the cliff side, an Atreides guard standing a few feet behind you. You loathed him already, you hated his very existence. This false prophet. As the waves crashed against the jagged cliff you tried to savor your remaining moment of pseudo-freedom. Alas, women are never free in this world.

“You are requested for dinner, your highness” A member of the staff stammered out. You let out a small hum before turning around with a polite smile. From the moment you were born this is what you were made for. A political marriage. One of convenience. You stepped forward.

“Of course”

———

Paul was already there, seated at the head of the table. He did not look up on your entrance, but he did acknowledge your presence. A small nod was the only thing he offered as a greeting, his focus being on your father who was discussing trade routes.

You took a seat next to your father as you waited for the arrival of Lady Jessica. Hands in lap you picked at your nails until you could no longer, a rage burning within you.

Soon she entered before taking a seat on Paul’s right. Their blue eyes were captivating, despite their departure from the desert planet.

The wedding was to be held on the home of the Atredies, Caladan. Every and all representatives of the Great Houses and other branches of the Imperium were to be present.

“It is an event of extreme significance” Lady Jessica spoke, “we have 4 weeks before the wedding where we will then depart back to Arakkis shortly there after.”

You took a deep breath as you watched her, your eyes occasionally drifting to Paul.

“I believe it is time for a proper introduction.” Jessica said looking at Paul. She says your full name and motions to you with her hand, “Lady Corrino is the firstborn child of late-emperor Shaddam, and the heiress of the imperium.”

“My lord.” You bid him a nod of acknowledgment before averting your eyes to the table. You thought that if you stared at it long enough you would wake up from this night terror.

A nod was his response to your greeting as he looked away from you, turning back towards the window. In the distance, he could just make out the edge of the caladan sea, the endless gray waves lapping up against the estate's cliffside property.

Beside him, he could hear his mother speak to you again. "I trust your journey was not too terrible."

“It was pleasant. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Your father spoke and your gut churned. The normality of this exchange is twisting your mind in ways you cannot imagine. The politeness, the facade, it all made you sick.

"Good." A simple statement. Paul felt no motivation to continue the conversation even before it had started. His mother continued on with her own chatter with you and your father.

"But for now, I will let and paul get to know each other a bit more while I escort you back to your ship." Jessica smiled, taking the cue to step away. she gave him a pointed look before she left, however-- be polite. A trade of ownership, you have been successfully dumped at the doorstep of the Atredies and once your father left this planet you would be at their mercy.

A sickening silence fell over the room. Paul glanced away from you, not wishing to return any look. Instead, his eyes searched through the rain-soaked windows, seeking for something to do besides idle chat. This was a waste of time.

“I am as dissatisfied about this as you are my lord” You boldly state. Not caring for any reprimanding or impoliteness. You were filled with rage and nothing more. Blinded by your distasteful and undesirable future.

He raised an eyebrow in your direction, glancing back at you. Silence lingered between them for a moment before he finally spoke. "and what gave it away?"

“Political Marriages are always a fuss”

A soft chuckle. he had to give you respect for that. It was the first time in your conversation with him as of yet that you were not just spouting nonsense. "No, I have to agree with you on this point. There is nothing convenient about being wed for political purposes."

It was almost humorous, in a way. He was stuck with you just as you were with him. “Two strangers tied together by duty.” There was just a hint of a sigh at the end of his words, he sounded just a little bitter. Paul’s eyes flicked off in a random direction, finding no real distraction from you and he was stuck within the room with you.

“Tell me about yourself." His voice was flat as he asked the question, it was more out of curiosity than any deep interest.

“I’m educated in Imperium law, structure, history…” you drone on about all of your prospects. Hobbies you were forced to have as a child to prepare you for this future.

"you're a woman of talents, it seems." He says

It was better to have a pretty fiancé who also did not seem like she needed to be supervised all the time. At least it meant his duties were lessened, to a degree. He could focus on other things, rather than wasting a moment worrying after you.

“Shall I walk you to your room, my lady? it was long journey and you must be worn out." His voice held a tone of kindness only one in high society is trained to have. Superficially sincere. You wanted to vomit.

“That would be lovely thank you” you smile

———

Next chapter

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #paul atredies x you #Paul atredies #dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune movie #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune fanfic #Paul atredies fanfic #arranged marriage #Jessica atredies #dune x reader #dune x you #timothée chalamet #timothee chamalet #lil Timmy Tim

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creature-wizard · 3 months

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Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler: Two Of The Most Dangerous Conspiracy Theorists Most People Have Never Heard Of

Fritz Springmeier is a conspiracy theorist who has written a number of absolute doorstoppers (the content of his books is poorly arranged and highly repetitive) claiming the existence of a global satanic cult that secretly controls the world - basically, your typical Protocols of Zion redux shit. Some of his books were written with Cisco Wheeler, a(n alleged) multiple system he claims to have deprogrammed from Illuminati mind control in 1994. Their work has been deeply influential on today's general belief in alter programming. Even if you've never read Wheeler and Springmeier's work directly, you may have come across their ideas. If you've seen anything about jewel programming, flower programming, alpha/beta/delta/epsilon programming, etc.? That's from them. Writers such as Unwelcome Ozian and Svali get their material from their work (in fact, Unwelcome Ozian's book Chainless Slaves literally copypastes some of their material), and people such as Ellen P. Lacter and Alison Miller of the ISSTD/RAMCOA-SIG frequently cite Svali. Furthermore, their work has had a huge impact on David Icke's reptilian alien conspiracy theories.

Here's a selection (yes, seriously, the following wall of text is only a small sample) of their claims from their trilogy series on Illuminati mind control (They Know Not What They Do - An Illustrated Guide To Monarch Mind Control, The Illuminati Formula Used To Create An Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave, and Deeper Insights Into The Illuminati Formula), which they wrote/published in the mid to late 1990's:

The Illuminati is a multi-generational satanic cult made up of thirteen elite bloodlines, who are working behind the scenes to enthrone the Antichrist in the year 2000. (It's been over twenty years, still no Antichrist.)

The Illuminati is behind the French Revolution and the Abolition movement. (Conspiracy theories invented by people who were pro-monarchy and pro-slavery.)

The Illuminati is pushing for gay rights as part of their plan to bring the Antichrist into power.

The Illuminati creates effeminate gay men by dosing pregnant mothers with progesterone and estrogen.

The Illuminati practices "trauma-based mind control," which in this context refers to an alleged (and very unsubstantiated) practice of inflicting brutal tortures to trigger the formation of alters, which will be programmed for various tasks, and made accessible to programmers via special codes and triggers.

TBMC practices often (though not always) take the form of satanic rituals. (Evil is always very, very theatrical in the minds of conspiracy theorists.)

The Illuminati's rituals are "based upon the most ancient mystery religions," because "one of the secrets of the Mystery Religions, especially the Egyptian Isis mystery religion was the ability to use drugs and torture to create multiple personalities." (Citation needed, Fritz.)

The European witch hunts were actually justified, because Europe was full of satanic practitioners of trauma-based mind control. (Seriously, what kind of ghoul claims the witch hunts were in any way justified?)

The Nazis' eugenics program wasn't actually about eugenics. It was actually a front for researching mind control, and that Project Monarch was based on research conducted by Dr. Josef Mengele, whom they claim was an "adept in Caballistic magic" assisted by "Askenazi hasidic black magic adepts." (This is a variation on the claim that Jews actually orchestrated the Holocaust)

Groups that are part of the Illuminati and practice Monarch mind control include (but are not limited to) The Catholic Church/Jesuits, Mormons, Assembly of God churches, the Watchtower Society, Hasidic Judaism, modern witchcraft, Druidry, Santeria, Freemasons, Golden Dawn, NASA, and professional baseball. (I think we can agree that some of these groups are very harmful, but that doesn't mean they're part of this conspiracy he's talking about.)

There are many different types of Monarch alter programming, including but not limited to gem programming, elemental programming, flower programming, color programming, Gumby programming, beehive programming, sex kitten programming, Greek letter programming, carousel programming, demon programming, alien programming, Mensa programming, Atlantis programming, paper doll programming, tumbleweed programming, waterjar shaking programming, Cinderella programming - it goes on.

"Body programs" can be installed to cause hearing problems, circulation issues, headaches, digestive problems, heart failure - basically, all those health problems that people who aren't conspiracy theorists would explain through allergies, stress, mental illness, or just common flaws of the human body.

Most slaves have "end-time programming," and will be activated to round up and kill opponents of the NWO when the time comes from the Antichrist to take power. (Again, it's been over twenty years.

Cisco Wheeler was programmed to be part of the Antichrist's elite imperial guard.

They claim, and I quote, "drugs, torture, hypnosis and MPD all work to enhance memory" and "most slaves have some photographic memory capability." They also claim that systemwide photographic memory can be created through brain stem scarring. (Conspiracy theorists literally made this up.)

The brains of Monarch slaves are more active than normal people's brains, because both sides of the Monarch slave's brain work simultaneously. (Both sides of everyone's brains are working all the time, that is literally how brains work.)

Mind control implants have been a thing since the 1960's. One woman had an implant disguised as a pubic hair. JZ Knight had an audio implant in her teeth that activated her to become a New Age leader. Microchip implants can affect DNA growth. "Fiber optic" mind control devices can be shot into the skin from a distance. (You can tell they rely on their audience to not understand anything about electronics in addition to neuroscience.)

Switching alters can literally change the color of your eyes. (It's impossible for someone's eyes to instantly switch color in the same way it's impossible for their skin to instantly change color.)

Fairy tales, fantasy media, movies, and television shows are full of deliberate programming. Some (but not all) of the media Springmeier and Wheeler implicate includes The Wizard of Oz, The Chronicles of Narnia, Alice in Wonderland, Disney films in general, A Little Princess, Star Trek, Star Wars, E.T., Tiny Toons, The Simpsons, Frankenstein, Bewitched, and Labyrinth.

Basically, any piece of entertainment that isn't morally pure from a far right Christian perspective is part of the Illuminati's plan to corrupt the youth and lead them down the patch of witchcraft and into satanism.

The story of the Golem is actually about a mind-controlled slave, and that "the main goal of the Cabala is to create a mind-controlled slave called a golem." Also, the Brothers Grimm were "Cabalistic Jews." (For a guy who insists he's not antisemitic, Fritz Springmeier sure likes to accuse people of being Jewish and demonize Jewish stuff.)

Famous Illuminati slaves include (but are not limited to) Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, Roseanne Barr, Bette Midler, Madonna, and the Beatles. They claim Charles Manson was programmed with Beatles music.

(List break here because this whole thing was longer than Tumblr's allowed block length. Again, I emphasize, I am only posting a small sample of the BS they put in their books.)

The Illuminati's intelligence agencies have programmed "thousands upon thousands of slaves." The Naval Ordinance Test Station at China Lake was actually a Monarch programming facility, where thousands of babies were kept in cages. "Lots of 1000 babies was a small batch," and "many batches were 2000 or 3000 babies."

The average Monarch system is programmed with 1000 alters.

The Illuminati prefers to program blond, blue-eyed children without visible body defects or scars. (Funny how these conspiracy theorists keep claiming to hate white supremacy, then insist blond, blue-eyed children are special targets.)

The Illuminati has no trouble finding sadistic torturers because, and I quote, "essentially all human males can be taught to engage in sadistic behavior." In fact, the Illuminati's Mothers of Darkness are often necessary to make sure the male torturers don't go too far.

The Illuminati used chimpanzees to physically torture children. (The pair of them clearly do not understand how strong chimpanzees actually are.)

Babies can learn to read by six months old with the use of subliminal tapes.

Learning to write backwards makes you more likely to dissociate. (Bizarre variant on old 'Satan does things backwards to mock God' canard.)

Failed Monarch programming/TBMC causes autism. Autism is when children withdraw from the world and retreat into themselves. (If there's two things we know about autism, it's that it's not traumagenic, and it's not about withdrawing from the world to retreat into your own mind.)

If you hang someone upside down long enough, they will begin to reverse pain and pleasure. Yeah, supposedly, if you physically reverse a person's body, their mind will start reversing, too. This, apparently, is how we get kinksters who like pain.

Scars can be made more visible via hypnotic command, and this has been a thing in the occult world for centuries. (Modern version of the Devil's Mark/witch's tit myth.)

Moles are a sign of prior electroshock torture. (Another modern version of the Devil's mark/witch's tit myth.)

King Hezekiah - yes, the Biblical King Hezekiah - was a child victim of satanic ritual abuse. (Of course the Bible chapter they cite - 2 Chronicles 29 - mentions nothing of the sort.)

Direct quote, "Vice-President Al Gore is a vampire and carries a briefcase of blood with him." (Modern conspiracy theorists love to sling blood libel at Democrats.)

Hillary Clinton is an Illuminati Grand Dame and programmer. (Gotta accuse those Democrat women of being witches.)

Roma people practice cannibalism. (Pure anti-Romani racism.)

The Illuminati has the cure for AIDS.

Adrenochrome is a secret black market drug. (This is a modern form of blood libel.)

Snuff pornography is a real thing. (It's really not.)

Being on Prozac makes you susceptible to becoming homicidal or suicidal if you're exposed to certain electromagnetic frequencies. The Illuminati is deliberately exposing people to these frequencies to increase these behaviors in order to get anti-gun legislation passed.

Cellphone towers emit electromagnetic frequencies that can control people's minds.

Putting one's hands behind one's head is a secret Illuminati hand signal meaning "I'm master." Folding one's hands is a secret Illuminati symbol for "you can't break the circle." Thumb-twiddling is an Illuminati hand signal for S&M. Other normal, everyday hand positions/gestures/movements are given equally conspiratorial explanations.

The "Vulcan peace sign" is an Illuminati/occult greeting. (This claim isn't just demonizing Star Trek - it's antisemitic.)

High-ranking members of the Illuminati hold fancy cannibal dinner parties and feed children to lions and tigers.

Lots and lots of child sacrifice happens. There's even rituals where children sacrifice other children and eat their hearts.

The shape of your skull affects your personality, and the Illuminati creates permanent personality changes by changing the shapes of people's skulls. (This is literally phrenology, which is pseudoscience.)

The Illuminati implants real, actual demons into victims, which can only be removed through Christian deliverance. Also, accepting Jesus as one's Lord and Savior is the only way for victims to truly heal, no ifs, ands, buts, or maybes.

Down's Syndrome can be cured with cranial manipulation. (Craniosacral therapy is quackery.)

Many people diagnosed with schizophrenia have actually been given implants by the government.

Ronald Reagan is "our future president." (Yes, Fritz Springmeier wrote these words during the Clinton administration.)

The US government has built 140 massive underground bases for various purposes, including housing "several varieties of aliens."

The Illuminati has been creating human clones and biological robot doubles for years, and has created such doubles for politicians such as Jimmy Carter. (Allegations of clones and duplicates goes back to the witch hunts, where witch hunters would claim Satan conjured up doubles for witches so their families wouldn't miss them while they went to the witches' sabbath. Also, it's a form of dehumanization.)

Therapists treating victims of alter programming/trauma-based mind control should separate their clients from their programmer (read: isolate them from friends, family, and acquaintances) and hold multi-hour therapy sessions to help them remember their abuse and discover their hidden alters (read: make sure they're constantly exposed to this narrative so they'll start to internalize it and begin "remembering" what you want). Wheeler outright says that the "better therapists" will wear down their clients with lengthy question and answer sessions. She recommends having a team of therapists to work on a single client, with a female mother figure and male father figure.

Depression is a sin that comes from a lack of faith.

Trance-Formation of America is a good example of how mind control victims are treated. (Trance-Formation of America is also part of the Project Monarch/alter programming conspiracy theory.)

Full quote, "All Illuminati victims of mind-control have been terrorized by their abusers about how God hates them and how God will punish them for their badness." (In other words, much of what these people are chalking up to alter programming/TBMC can very easily be explained by religious trauma from being brought up in a conservative Christian environment.)

Again, these are the types of claims made by the two people from which all of this stuff about all of these specific types of alter programming, body programs, etc. originate. Whether or not people on RAMCOA sites acknowledge Springmeier and Wheeler outright, much the stuff they're claiming can very much be traced back to them.

Now, some of you reading this might still be wondering whether the alter programming could more than a conspiracy theory; like, maybe there's actually people out there who are really doing this, even if they aren't involved in some grand sinister conspiracy. And the answer is still no.

First, this conspiracy theory effectively proposes that there was an epidemic of people engaging in this very specific practice back during a time period when the most that people knew about DID (if they knew about DID at all) came from from the Sybil book or movie (and the real "Sybil" never had DID); or even before that point, if we include the people who claimed they were programmed in the 40's-60's. The idea that all of these unconnected people all independently came up with this is simply beyond absurd. If this was a real practice being done out there by any significant number of people at all, extensive technical literature describing the procedures in full detail would have to exist. This literature would at some point have been found in the homes, workplaces, etc. of programmers. Alter programming has allegedly been practiced since at least the 1940s, and not a single piece of this literature has ever been found anywhere; not on the most depraved 4Chan user's computer, not in the edgiest occultist's library, and not in the home of any child molesting priest. The only literature that describes these supposed practices comes from conspiracy theorists, and they aren't nearly detailed enough to constitute any kind of actual manual. It's very telling that when Fritz Springmeier et al name books that supposedly contain this sort of information, the books either contain nothing of the sort (for example, old grimoires), or have no evidence of ever existing in the first place.

And while it's true that extreme trauma can cause dissociation and the formation of alters, that's about the only thing this conspiracy theory gets right. Everything else is like some kind of edgy sci-fi take on it, about as accurate to real neuroscience as Jaws is to real sharks. The people who thought they saw evidence of "structured DID" back in the day made a similar error to the people who look at natural hills and mountains and think they're seeing ancient pyramids, or look at Bimini Road and actually think it's a real man-made road rather than a natural rock formation. People would look at someone having literally any trauma response or distress behavior (which may or may not have actually involved DID or OSDD), and think they were seeing the work of some diabolical mastermind. Basically, it's a form of pareidolia. The therapists would share their beliefs with their patients, who would internalize it in their own minds, and come back with stuff that seemed to confirm their therapists' suspicions.

What's going on here is a pretty straightforward case of confabulated memory cultivation. This kind of thing happens all the time in places like the New Age starseed movement, where people start learning New Age mythology and what kind of alien beings they supposedly could have been in a past life. Whether through hypnosis, vivid dreams, or even incredibly vivid flashes of mental imagery out of the blue, people begin "remembering" supposed lost memories that simply cannot be real because real historical evidence contradicts them at nearly every turn. You can see examples of this for yourself over here and over here.

Confabulated memory cultivation isn't really practiced on purpose, per se; at least, not typically. What happens is you have people who legitimately believe that they can retrieve lost memories, whether from their childhoods or from a past life. And unlike literature that tells you how to program alters, literature that describes methods to supposedly retrieve lost memories exists in abundance. People have made jobs out of allegedly helping people retrieve lost memories ever since people believed that was a thing they could do.

The alter programming conspiracy theory was part of a mental health fad where people believed that repressed memories were the root cause of many ordinary mental and physical health problems. Symptoms of anxiety, depression, chronic stress, PTSD, C-PTSD, BPD, schizophrenia, bipolar, autism, ADHD, allergies, mast cell activation syndrome, fibromyalgia, and more are all chalked up to repressed memories and alter programming. Very, very tellingly, many of the symptoms described in this type of literature are exactly what you'd expect from religious trauma in a conservative Christian environment. In fact, the alter programming conspiracy theory implicitly denies that it would be possible to develop serious trauma from the kind of abusive parenting that conservative Christian culture encourages and condones.

Also, the fact that the ISSTD/RAMCOA SIG continues propagating the claims made by Springmeier and Wheeler definitively shows us that the purpose of ISSTD/RAMCOA-SIG is repackaging Satanic Panic and far right conspiracy theories more generally, and that the very term "Ritual Abuse, Mind Control, & Organized Abuse" is in fact a Trojan horse intended to slip all of this stuff back into legitimate psychological discourse and discussions of systemic abuse, religious abuse, human trafficking, etc. The fact that people cannot question RAMCOA without being accused of denying these things shows that this is working out really well for the the ISSTD/RAMCOA SIG right now.

I'd like to emphasize that I am not trying to say that people who were led to believe they were victims of alter programming haven't been severely abused in some way, or that none of them have DID. This conspiracy theory is very much built to prey on these sorts of people. The point I am making is that it is indeed a conspiracy theory, and that it harms many people, both with and without DID.

Now, I know there's some folks out there who have been led to believe that real evidence of widespread alter programming or even widespread ritual abuse (ie, the practice of abusive occultic rituals) were found, but conservative Christians simply co-opted real events to attack the people they didn't like. And that simply isn't what happened. It was the conspiracy theorists - people like Dr. Lawrence Pazder and Mike Warnke - who positioned themselves as ritual abuse experts and instructed police and therapists on what to look out for. It was always a literal witch hunt from the very beginning.

If you are looking for any kind of mental health support, or wish to talk about real forms of abuse, I strongly recommend avoiding terms like Satanic Ritual Abuse, Ritual Abuse, Mind Control, & Organized Abuse, Organized Abuse, Organized Extreme Abuse, Ritual Abuse, Mind Control, Trauma-Based Mind Control, and so on, because these are all terms created and used by conspiracy theorists. We have other terms to talk about real abuse, including spiritual abuse, religious abuse, systemic abuse, institutional abuse, sexual abuse, sex trafficking, and so on.

Likewise, if you see someone using these terms, you know that their information is downstream from conspiracy theorists, and therefore, is highly suspect. If you're looking for any sort of mental health/trauma support whatsoever, be very wary whenever you see someone using them. Even if they mean well, what they're putting out there is still contaminated by the myths and misinformation of the Satanic Panic, which will never support actual healing.

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queencaramilflinda · 1 year

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Ok so here are my fhjy predictions

Adaine multi-classes with either barbarian or rogue

Kristen multi-classes bard

The Night Yorb continues to be an improvised joke, not a main plot point

Kristen reunites with her brothers (potentially one of them starts at Aguefort)

Sandra Lynn backstory

More time spent actually at Aguefort, doing classes, that kind of thing

Emily/Fig does something absolutely batshit on the lines of “Sexy Rat” or “I disguise myself as him”

Aroace Riz

Gilear and Hilariel get engaged, Fabian has a meltdown about it

References to The Seven and what they’re up to

Gorgug feels left out because his parents aren’t part of the polycule

Ayda starts spending time at Aguefort Adventuring Academy to see her dad and Fig and Adaine

The villain is capitalism, somehow

Tracker and Kristen are formally broken up, Kristen has to learn who she is without her girlfriend

The Bad Kids have to reckon with what they are doing after high school, and if they will stay together

Gorgug leaves Fig and the Sig Figs

Kristen finally gets a straight +0 to dex

Non-binary Kristen arc?

Asexual Adaine arc?

Everyone gets cool new outfits!

A wedding is featured

Fabian gets a girlfriend, it’s someone we know and not who we would expect

Alternatively Fabian/Aelwyn sloppy breakup arc

Permadeath of a beloved character (probably Ragh)

#fantasy high junior year #fhjy #cienna talks #fantasy high

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sablegear0 · 6 months

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youtube

STOPKILLINGGAMES.COM

Ross Scott is on the warpath to keep publishers from killing online-only games and you guys can help!

Folks in Australia, Brazil, Canada, the US, France (especially), the UK, and the EU at large can help the most here. Especially if you purchased a copy of Ubisoft's The Crew. Using a multi-pronged initiative to take Ubisoft to task over killing a flagship game, Ross is hoping to get legislature passed to end the bad habit of publishers killing online games altogether.

Be aware that not all the petitions on the site are active right now, and this initiative will need some patient monitoring. But some of the government petitions (the legally binding kind of petitions, the good ones) signature requirements are really low! Australia only needs 50 sigs and Canada only 500! The UK needs 10k, and if we want to be really ambitious, the EU general petition needs 1 million, but the petition runs for a whole year.

PLEASE pass this along if you even remotely care about video games or consumer rights or media preservation. I'm not some big name blog and I don't have a lot of reach but I have faith in Ross's campaign if it gets the attention it deserves.

#sable talks about games #stop killing games #accursed farms #media preservation #gaming history #consumer rights #ubisoft #the crew #Youtube

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tissitpoispaita · 1 year

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Oletko saanut tarpeeksesi hallituksen rasismin ja fasismin hyssyttelystä? No niin olemme mekin!

Me emme vaikene, kun hallitus laiminlyö velvollisuuttaan turvata perus- ja ihmisoikeudet sekä puuttua kaikkeen syrjintään.

Vaadimme edustajaksemme hallituksen, joka on tinkimätön rasismin ja fasismin vastustamisessa ja joka on sitoutunut edistämään kaikin tavoin yhdenvertaista ja oikeudenmukaista politiikkaa. Meille on tärkeää rakentaa turvallinen, elinvoimainen, moniääninen ja kansainvälinen Suomi.

ME EMME VAIKENE! Suurmielenosoitus hallituksen rasismia ja fasismia vastaan sunnuntaina 3.9.2023 Helsingissä ja virtuaalisesti.

✓ Laita kalenteriin merkintä su 3.9. ja tule mukaan pitämään ääntä!

✓ Jaa kutsua, sometilejä ja Facebook-eventtiä omissa kanavissasi tunnisteen #MeEmmeVaikene kera!

✓ Ota seurantaan mielenosoituksen somekanavat, joihin tietoa päivitetään:

facebook.com/meemmevaikene

facebook.com/events/304881822053161/

tiktok.com/@meemmevaikene

twitter.com/meemmevaikene

Har du fått nog av regeringens försök att tysta ner sina problem med rasism och fascism? Det har vi också!

Vi kan inte förbli tysta när vår regering inte förmår skydda mänskliga grundläggande rättigheter och jobba mot diskriminering.

Vi vill ha en regering som står stark emot rasism och fascism, och som engagerar sig för att främja rättvisa och jämlikhet. Vi vill bygga ett säkert, livfullt, flerstämmigt och internationellt Finland.

VI TIGER INTE MER! Vår stora offentliga demonstration mot regeringens rasism och fascism sker söndagen den 3 september 2023 i Helsingfors och dessutom online.

✓ Boka söndagen den 3 september och kom med för att tala ut och stå upp, och sluta tiga.

✓ Dela denna inbjudan, dessa sociala medie-konton och Facebook-eventet genom dina egna kanaler med hashtaggen #emmevaikene !

✓ Följ våra sociala mediekanaler för uppdateringar om demonstrationen:

facebook.com/meemmevaikene

facebook.com/events/304881822053161/

tiktok.com/@meemmevaikene

twitter.com/meemmevaikene

Have you had enough of this Government’s efforts to hush up its problems with racism and fascism? Well, so have we!

We cannot remain silent when a government fails to protect human and fundamental rights and combat all forms of discrimination.

We insist on being represented by a government that is implacably opposed to racism and fascism, and fully committed to promoting equitable and fair policies. We stress the importance of building a secure, vibrant, multi-vocal and international Finland.

END THE SILENCE! A major public demonstration against Government racism and fascism on Sunday 3 September 2023 in Helsinki and online.

✓ Save the date on Sunday 3 September and join us to be anything but silent!

✓ Share this invitation, these social media accounts and the Facebook-event through your own channels with the hashtag #MeEmmeVaikene!

✓ Follow our dedicated social media channels for demo updates:

facebook.com/meemmevaikene

facebook.com/events/304881822053161/

tiktok.com/@meemmevaikene

twitter.com/meemmevaikene

#suomitumppu #suomitumblr #politiikka #hallitus #perkele

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moonflowerlesbians · 4 months

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hey :)! do you have any personal favorite canon-compliant fics? ill take any form truly but multi-chapter recs would be super cool <3

hi! sorry it took me a couple days to answer. admittedly, it's been a little while since I've read bly fic, so I polled a couple people to see what they said and looked back at my bookmarks and went through the tag for fics and authors I remember are great :)

we universally recommend Afterglow by sigmalied, which is probably one of the best fics in the fandom period. sig's writing is stunning, to say the least. you might also check out Teallach!

I'm a fan of anything by tigerlo, but beloved, bereft, bereaved is canon-compliant and fantastic. it fills in the blanks.

shame on everyone (involved) by andawaywego (another terrific author I'd highly recommend) is short and sweet from Hannah's POV and looks at dani and jamie getting together.

this one's a little angstier (as bly canon-compliant fics tend to be because. yeah.) souvenirs you never lose by novel_concept26 is excellent. novel never misses 10/10 would also recommend anything else by them. bonus: who am i (that i should get to hold you)

summer's gone and i'm alone (i get the feeling that you’re somewhere close) by goldenslumbersfanfiction is a terrific multichap dani character study that gets me every time.

I Don't Know About The Lake (But Every Time You Say My Name You Make Ripples In Me) by Iamasortofvillain is a multichap and this author has several canon-compliant multichaps or longer fics to take a look at!

shameful bonus: whimsy in the weeds is one I actually wrote lol. but it's canon complaint and expands on jamie's backstory.

I hope these are enough to get you started!

#woah fixed a weird formatting issue where some recs were bigger #fic rec #ask #anon #the haunting of bly manor #thobm

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tjemegames · 2 months

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HSR: Character Build Archive - Hunt

The most recent version of a character's build(s) will be listed here; older build versions can be found on their designated changelog. To avoid word/image limit issues, information on a retired build will be removed from the path archive and a link to the build's changelog will be provided in its place.

Changelogs will only be created and maintained for the characters that I actively use; they will be updated whenever significant relic upgrades/changes have been made. Characters that have multiple builds (i.e. additional builds that are non-traditional, niche, or memes) will have a dedicated changelog for each one.

Boothill

this looks better than it is because of the crit weight

desperately need to roll more break; I used to roll nothing but break before I started farming for this cyborg. once I hit 300%, I'll be satisfied with my min-maxing

need to farm theif (hands + spd boots) & talia (def sphere)

last upgraded - 7.1.24

Dan Heng

hello to my favorite character! it is I, your number one fan

build is very solid; the best one on my entire account. I'd love to hit a character score of 500 though so I'm still tweaking it

need to farm musketeer (hand) & glamoth (wind dmg sphere); ideally w/double crit on both

last upgraded - 7.1.24

Dr. Ratio

unleveled: lvl 1, e0

will level him up if hoyo ever feels generous enough to give us a free copy of his sig; I'm not interested in using him without it

Feixiao

unreleased (2.5)

unowned: will not be pulling because as one of the only 4-star dan heng fans I cannot abandon him. looking forward to seeing what feixiao's kit and animations are like though; hopefully they're not too op so I can feel better about skipping

March 7th - The Hunt

acquired & beginning the building process! very much looking forward to testing out some new teams with her

has two potential build routes to take: traditional dps (crit) and break; I'll probably go 4pc musketeer + rutilant for crit & 4pc thief + talia for break. could also go pioneer + salsotto for crit & calvary + forge for break, but that sounds like a headache in the making

Moze

unreleased (2.5)

unowned: want because he looks cool and I'd like to learn more about him. will do a couple of 10-pulls on the banner he's on and hope for the best. will not be fishing for him though; I've learned my lesson via gallagher, and I will not allow myself to fall victim to the gamba demons again

Seele

working towards overhauling the entire build: swapped glamoth planars for rutilant, recycled the outdated 4-star quantum dmg sphere, & traded atk ropes w/serval

relevant stat change(s): +10.9 spd, -2.2% crate, +8.8% cdmg, -177 atk

score change: +34 (S+)

was not planning on messing with her anytime soon but I ended up using her to complete the 2.3.1 PF, which was quite satisfying to do, so she is officially being taken off the bench (until I pull a multi-target quantum damage dealer that I like more)

need to farm 4pc genius (crate body + atk boots); could potentially go 2pc genius, 2pc musketeer but I'd get more dmg out of a full set of genius so that's my priority

don't have any plans to pull for her sig since I don't use her all that much. would need to look into the benefits of all the hunt cones to see if it's worth having on my acct

last upgraded - 8.2.24 | changelog

Sushang

outdated build: 3/6 relics are 4-star

due to my boothill investment, I have no need to work on or use sushang anymore; a tragedy because the big chicken is one of my favorite ults

Topaz & Numby

unowned: not interested in pulling. may change depending on the release of future synergistic follow-up units

Yanqing

unleveled: lvl 1, e2

Return to Navigation

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr character build archive #hsr hunt #hsr boothill #hsr dan heng #hsr dr ratio #hsr feixiao #hsr march 7th hunt #hsr moze #hsr seele #hsr sushang #hsr topaz #hsr yanqing #tjs hsr shenanigans #tjemegames

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sarandipitywrites · 1 month

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Dead Roots, Dark Water Ch 14

Not enough. Five clips spent, two more in his bag. A hundred rounds each. Not enough. Five-to-ten shots to drop the cloak. One-to-three to shatter the skull gem. Dozens on the ground and dozens more on the shore and on the cliffs and in the trees. “When we get outta this, I’m havin’ Sig make all’a ya into trophies.” He reached back and blindly slipped his hand into his bag, popping haphazard one-handed shots at any beasts that tried to take advantage. They were too tough. Too tough and too elusive and too damn many and he still couldn’t see Jak but he could hear him, his shouts and roars and the ragged exhaustion that tore more holes in his voice with each passing second while Daxter was stuck, stuck because he’d had a stupid idea and Jak couldn’t last forever and Daxter was on his last two clips and he couldn’t find them and was this seriously how they were going to die, plugged full of dark eco slugs just as they were finally figuring their shit out, just when— Cool metal brushed against Daxter’s fingertips. That wasn’t a clip. It wasn’t anything else he usually had in his bag, either.

He wrapped his fingers around it, pulled it out and around. A gun barrel. Heavy, multi-chambered, with a huge blue clip already attached. Because he wasn’t using his old blaster — that one was gathering dust somewhere in Krew’s warehouse. He was using a Tess special.

Chapter 14 of Dead Roots, Dark Water is now LIVE on Ao3!

DRDW Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @sam-glade, @televisionjester, @surroundedbypearls, @rivenantiqnerd

#jak and daxter #jnd #fanfic #alternate universe #dark jak au #ao3 #my writing #dead roots dark water

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girllbossmalewifeduos · 1 month

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Day 2 Duo Updates!

Wow! (At the time of writing this) We have reached a wopping 211 submissions! Thank you all!

Under the cut is Most submitted series, Couple, and all multiple submissions

(/ is only used for convenience, not all are romantic couples)

Unlike the last one, I'll just list the multi Submissions right now:

Desiree Delite/Ron Delite from Ace Attorney

Kida/Milo Thatch from Atlantis: The Lost Empire

Annie Leonhardt/Armin Arlert from Attack on Titan

Suki and Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender

Barbie/Ken from Barbie

Haru/Legoshi from Beastars

Kyoko Kirigiri/Makoto Naegi from Danganronpa

Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis from Fullmetal Alchemist

Millie/Moxie from Helluva Boss

Aqua/Terra from Kingdom Hearts

Gloria/Melman from Madagascar

Marinette Dupain Cheng/Adrien Agreste from Miraculous Ladybug

Ochaco Ururaka/Izuku Midorya from My Hero Academia

Asuka Langly Soryuu/Shinji Ikari from Neon Genesis Evangeleon

Nami/Sanji from One Piece

Nico Robin/Franky from One Piece

Jessie/James from Pokemon

Granmamoto/Fujimoto from Ponyo

Miyako Shikimori/Yuuki Izumi from Shikimori's Not Just a Cutie

Yor Forger/Loid Forger from Spy x Family

Connie Maheswaren/Steven Universe from Steven Universe

Robin Buckly/Steve Harrington from Stranger Things

Kori'ander (Starfire)/Dick Grayson (Nightwing) from Titans/DC Comics

Morticia Addams/Gomex Addams from The Addams Family

June Duarte/Carden Greenbriar from The Folk in The Air

Zelda/Link from The Legend of Zelda

Malfina/Connecticut Clark from Tumblr

Miku/Tatsu from Way of the Househusband

Meryl Streep/Vash the Stampede froom Trugun

Beatrice/Battler Ushiryoma from Umineko: When they Cry

Fuuko Izumo/Andy from Undead Unlock

Sergeant Calhoun/Fix It Felix from Wreck It Ralph

57.8% of the submissions are Canonical Relationships

Pokemon has the most Submissions and Jessie/James are still the most submitted duo!

#girlboss malewife duos

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piyovishippingsoftware · 4 months

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Join us for an incredible event packed with insightful sessions, networking opportunities, and innovative solutions. Save the date and visit us at our booth to learn how Piyovi can revolutionize your business Logistics and Transportation Management. Stay tuned for more updates and see you in Philly! https://www.oatug.org/otmconference/sponsors #OTMSIGNA2024 #PiyoviPlatinumSponsor #TransportationManagement #SupplyChainSolutions #ShippingSolution #CloudTMS #LogisticsManagement #MultiCarrier https://piyovi.com

#shipping software #shipping solutions #logistics software #multi carrier shipping software #cloud shipping #shipping system #supply chain #ecommerce #tracking software #conferences #OTM SIG NA Conference #Piyovi #transportation management software

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radioactivepeasant · 1 year

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Snippet Thursday: Mistaken Identity

Actually quite long (about 42 pages in my tiny notepad), because it's a full one-shot rather than part of a multi-chapter idea. Although that's not to say I won't add pieces later

The distress beacon had been Sig’s, but the shape lying limply in the dust was most assuredly not Sig. The gathered Wastelanders looked at each other with grim expressions: this felt like a trap.

"Circle around," Damas signed to the driver of the second car, "Check for an ambush. I'll see if it's one of ours."

"Be careful," the woman signed back. A dimple between her brows suggested that under her heavy scarf she was frowning.

"I'm always careful."

Even so, Damas took extra care in approaching the crumpled form, gesturing for Kleiver to follow him in case of attack. He'd assumed that the person -- or corpse, hard to tell at this distance -- would be larger up close. But as he drew near, the figure remained small, and slight. They were dressed like a Havenite from the Slums, wearing stained, threadbare layers of clothing. A filthy scarf and dismally battered goggles half covered matted green hair; they didn't seem to have any more protection from the sun than that. Foolish Havenite.

Two small animals lay beside the stranger, breathing shallowly. Pets? That seemed an unusual step for Haven, letting an exile take anything important to them.

Damas glanced at the stranger, but kept his attention focused on the ground, looking for Sig’s beacon. It didn't take long to find, considering it lay beside the stranger's hand. Damas picked up the beacon and turned it over in his hand. There were no obvious signs of tampering. No blood or scorching or anything else to indicate that the beacon had been taken by force.

"How did you get this?" Damas murmured, not really expecting an answer. Whoever this was, they were barely alive.

"Er...lordship?"

It was not like Kleiver to sound hesitant.

"Do you...know this kid?"

An odd question. Damas looked up with a quizzical expression and found the big Wastelander peering down at the face of the figure. Kid?

The king pivoted on his heels to get a better look at their find.

Sunken cheeks. Dark circles under large eyes. A pitiful patch of stubble that might’ve been a first attempt at a beard on an otherwise startlingly smooth face. Precursors, he was a kid, wasn't he? He could've been anywhere from sixteen to nineteen -- in his state, it was hard to tell.

"Scrawny thing, isn't he?" Damas remarked. He took hold of an iron ring strapped to the boy's chest and tried to shake off a nagging sense of familiarity in the boy's features. "A channeler, maybe? We could use one of those. Honestly, I'm impressed that he's still breathing."

He glanced up. "What makes you think I'd know who the whelp is?"

Kleiver looked back at him with an unusually uncomfortable expression. He gestured awkwardly to the boy's face.

"Well he's...I mean- well look at 'im! 'S just weird, is all."

"What's weird?" Damas scoffed and hoisted the boy up by the iron ring.

The boy's head fell back and for just a moment, something around his neck glittered in the fading sunlight. With a curse, Damas dropped him as if he'd been burned. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled back a step, swearing under his breath.

"What fresh hell is this?" he demanded.

That was where Phobos found him after completing her perimeter check: staring in horror down at a much younger version of his own face.

Phobos crossed the space between their vehicles to touch his shoulder.

"Damas?"

"I...who is this?"

"Damas." Phobos shook him gently. "Hey. Hey. Are you just going to leave him lying there?"

The king blinked and inhaled sharply as he seemed to come to. "Right," he muttered, "...right. Pho, take my staff."

"What? Oop-!" Phobos hastily grabbed at the staff Damas all but dropped. "What the-!"

In a daze, Damas knelt and slipped an arm under the boy’s shoulders.

"Gods. He really is scrawny."

He shook his head and hoisted the boy up.

"Kleiver, get the car started. And someone grab those animals!"

Phobos's eyes flicked from Damas to the half-dead castaway, and narrowed.

"Damas...who is that?"

Her husband turned to face her, a disturbed shock stamped clearly on his face.

"I don't know," he said grimly, "but he's wearing a Maridius amulet."

■■■■■■■■■■

The Rift Rider idled, ready to take Samos and the child back in time. Ready to begin the cycle of pain all over again. Jak bit his lip and folded his younger self's fingers back over the proffered amulet.

"No, buddy, you keep it," he said gently. "Try...try to remember something about your family this time. Maybe remember me."

The tiny boy pouted, then threw his arms around Jak’s neck. "Za?" He whispered in Jak’s ear, the closest he'd ever come to saying his name.

Jak closed his eyes and hugged the kid tightly. Precursors knew he wouldn't get a lot of hugs in Sandover. "No, buddy. Za can't go with you this time. You have to be really brave for me, okay? There's...there's a kid on the other side of that gate who really really needs a friend. Can you look out for him for me?"

Sniffling, the little boy let go and nodded. "Brave like you," he signed. Then, rubbing his eyes, he sat back down in the craft.

Jak took a slow breath, then looked to the younger Samos. Doubtless this version of the sage was going to withhold just as much information as the older one. Jak didn't trust him to warn Mar about Errol. And he'd be blasted if he let that swine get his hands on the amulet in any timeline.

"You know, I didn't have the amulet when I got back to the present," he said casually. "I think you locked it up for safekeeping right before we fixed the Rift Gate, but I never saw where in the house you put it."

Samos took the bait too easily. "Oof! Yes, I suppose it would be bad for the kid to meet the Baron with that thing on. Thanks for the heads-up."

All too soon, they were gone. And not long after, so was Jak, headed for Dead Town. It had been a selfish ploy, a bid to give himself some semblance of a connection to his past. He couldn't remember having the amulet yet -- but he'd had trouble remembering a lot of his early years ever since the experiments began. "Traumatic amnesia", Daxter called it.

But if the amulet was there, if his ploy had worked, then maybe he'd get something back.

It took him an hour to sift through all the debris in the old hut, even with Daxter's help. The ravages of time hadn't left many places for treasure to remain undiscovered in. But just when Jak was beginning to fear that someone had found it decades before, his hand brushed over a brick in the old planter circles that lacked the same grout as the others.

Leave it to Samos to hide such an important artifact under a giant, vicious, carnivorous plant. Had he fed it to the thing?! The amulet was down where the roots had once been!

Still, Jak could admit to a sense of relief that washed over him once the amulet was in his hand. Clearly he'd changed the past at least enough to have an emotional connection to the pendant. He tucked it into his tunic, resolving to put it on a chain the first chance he got. He wasn't going to let anyone take it from him again.

■■■■■■■■■■

The last thing Jak remembered was collapsing beside a boulder, desperately trying to stay conscious only to fail seconds later. He could hear a voice -- not Daxter or Pecker -- nearby, and as he focused on that, other sensations began to filter in.

Softness beneath him.

The smell of eco med-gel.

An itch in the crook of his elbow.

A sticky dryness in his mouth, like cotton.

And something off about his skin. He couldn't put his finger on it, but his skin felt different somehow. Cleaner? No, that didn't make any sense. Why would it be clean?

It took a monumental effort to open his eyes, and he regretted it immediately. Light stabbed into his retinas pitilessly, and Jak let out an involuntary grunt of discomfort. In response, a shadow fell over his face, shielding him from the unforgiving glare. First a blur, then a shape, a face slowly swam into focus.

"Ah, you're back with us! Thank the Precursors, that was a close one, eh?"

Jak blinked up in confusion as his brain slowly processed the presence of one of the most beautiful women he could ever remember seeing. Not that he could remember seeing that many women in his life. Her skintone was so deep that the light framing her glanced off her cheekbones in little flashes of garnet and amethyst. Coils of hair spread out behind her head in an artful halo, providing most of the blessed shade across Jak's face. He squinted up at her for a long moment, trying to determine whether he was hallucinating in the desert.

"....'m I dead?" Jak croaked, then winced at the dry soreness in his throat.

The angelic stranger laughed in surprise. "Dead? No, quite the opposite, kid. Although you got pretty close."

"Where am I?" Jak tried to sit up, and something tugged at his elbow.

Instantly, he froze. He knew the shape of a needle.

Bile crawled up his throat, and his heart thundered in his ears as he forced himself to turn his head and look.

A bag of clear fluid hung from a stand beside a cot he'd been laid on. Descending from the bag, a long tube fed the fluid through a needle secured to his arm with bandages. A high whine escaped him, and the room seemed to spin.

"Whoa whoa whoa- kid, kiddo, look at me."

The mysterious woman suddenly took his face in her hands -- rough hands. A warrior's hands.

"Ssshh, hey, you're okay. You're okay, chico. It's just saline, that's all."

"W- what-?"

"Saline. It's a...kinda like a saltwater solution you give to people suffering dehydration."

One of the calloused hands cupped the back of his head, rubbing a thumb comfortingly over stubble.

Stubble?

Jak's breathing quickened and the room spun faster.

"What-!" he gasped, and his breaths began to squeak. "What did you do to me?!"

"Hey now, breathe. Breathe." The woman began to sway back and forth where she sat, dragging him along with the rocking motion.

"Inhale with me, yeah? In and out, in and out. I've got you."

"M- my h- my h- hair-!" Jak squeaked.

The woman clicked her tongue. "Oh, ohhh, you can feel that, huh? Yeah, you were overheated. The mats in your hair were just doing damage to you, longterm. The doctors didn't have any time to waste, so they shaved it out to cool you off."

She continued to cradle his face with her other hand, offering him a full, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get your okay, chico. But...I mean, you wouldn't wake up! Not even your orange friend could get a response. He gave us the go-ahead."

For the first time since waking, Jak felt something like relief. "D- Daxter?"

"Mm. The mouthy one? Yes."

"Where-?"

The woman pulled back and turned away for a moment. Jak wondered why he felt minutely disappointed by that. He wasn't that touch-starved, was he? When she turned back, she held a cup and pitcher in her hands. The sight of the water trickling from one container to the other made Jak's throat ache all the fiercer.

"Here. Slow sips now, little bird. Don't make yourself sick like your friend did." The woman settled back into her seat at the edge of the cot. She made a vague gesture with the hand not holding the pitcher.

"At least he made a quick recovery. My husband took him back up to our place. When you're cleared by the doctors, we'll take you to him."

Jak gulped down the water, ignoring his visitor's protests. It was cool, although not cold, but even that was like heaven on his irritated throat. Droplets leaked from the corner of his mouth, and the IV tugged painfully as he reached up to catch them. He didn't think he could afford to waste even one drop.

"Hey hey!" The woman reached for the cup, and Jak jerked back out of reach.

"Not so fast, chico, you'll make yourself sick!"

Jak growled softly behind the rim of the cup and hitched up his shoulders. If this lady wanted to take the water away, she'd be in for a fight.

"Whoa!" The woman raised her brows. "Calm down. The water isn't going anywhere, I promise."

"I don't know you," Jak retorted, "How do I know you keep promises?"

Now the woman began to look a little annoyed.

"Fair enough," she begrudgingly allowed. "Considering the state we found you in, am I to assume that if I take that cup you'll bite me or something?"

"I might," answered Jak coolly.

Something bittersweet passed over the woman's face and lingered there at the corners of her mouth as she forced a smile.

"Well that wouldn't be very nice of you, but I can't say it wouldn't fit with every other kid in Spargus."

Jak lowered the cup slowly. "Spargus?" he asked, tilting his head, "What's that?"

"It's home," she answered. "The city of the forgotten and the betrayed -- and the hunter."

Jak raised the cup again and muttered darkly, "Well that's ironically appropriate."

"Let's start over, huh?"

The woman leaned back and carded a hand through her teased-out coils.

"My name is Phobos. I was with the convoy that found you and your friends in the Strider Range."

"...oh."

Jak grimaced. This woman had rescued him, hadn't she?

"I'm, um. I'm Jak."

Embarrassed, he gestured to the cup, the IV, and looked away. "What do I owe you? I don't...I don't have any money."

Phobos shook her head. "It's fine, chico- er, Jak. When people come to Spargus, those who have life debts pay it back by contributing to the overall survival of their new home and neighbors, depending on how old they are when they arrive."

"How old they are?" Jak fiddled with his now empty cup awkwardly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Phobos gave him an amused glance. "Uh...kids are kids? This isn't Haven, hey? We don't even let people take the citizen applicant training course until we know they're eighteen or older."

She scooted closer and held up the pitcher. "Cup."

"Huh? Oh-"

Jak tilted the cup toward her but didn't let go. He watched her refill it and puzzled over the idea of a city in good enough shape that kids didn't have to work. Maybe there weren't metalheads out here.

"So...do you people normally pick up half-dead people and bring them home?"

"As long as they aren't half dead because they tried to kill us, yeah," Phobos said with a careless shrug. "Strength and survival: it's the two things Wastelanders respect the most. So when we find somebody in the badlands who isn't a dried out corpse, we know we've got the makings of a tough little survivor."

Surviving was, by necessity, Jak’s best skill. But considering the kind of jobs he got when people knew that, and how it had turned out last time, Jak decided not to advertise that fact. It already nagged at him that someone had seen his scars, and the bruises from the arrest, and every other injury he'd gained in the name of helping a city that hated him. Spargus wouldn't get the same freebies.

Eventually, Phobos stood up and put the pitcher back on a low counter that extended out of sight behind a curtain. She dusted off her yellow tunic and stretched her back with a soft grunt.

"Alright. I guess somebody ought to tell Damas you're awake and talking," she said, more to herself than to Jak.

Before Jak could ask who Damas was supposed to be, something careful and calculated slipped into Phobos's voice.

"So...just you and the critters, huh? Your parents know where you are?"

Hands tightened into claws around the wooden cup.

"I never had parents," Jak growled.

One more thing to "thank" Haven for, apparently.

"Ah." Phobos's eyes widened in an oddly dismayed expression. "Sorry, I..."

"Why?"

Jak's eyes narrowed at her.

"Literally no one has ever asked if I even had parents before you. You're fishing for something. What do you want?"

Then it hit him: if the woman had seen his scars, she had seen his amulet as well. Was that what she was getting at? Probing to see if any other ill-fated Heirs of Mar existed?

"Uh..." Phobos puffed out her cheeks and blew the air out. "It's...complicated. I'm gonna let Damas take this one."

"Who's Damas?" Jak demanded.

Phobos made another odd grimace and lifted a radio from the countertop.

"Hey, Damas, the kid's awake," she said, ignoring Jak's question.

A raspy voice crackled through the speaker.

"He is? Has he said anything yet?"

"Well, he threatened to bite me," Phobos joked before growing serious. "Take it easy when you come down, he's pretty worked up. Bring the orange guy if you can."

"Understood. Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah," Phobos sighed. "He doesn't know who we are, where we are, or how he got here. I don't think you're going to get any answers out of him."

"......oh."

The guy she called Damas sounded strangely...emotional.

"Er...alright. I'll...I'll see what I can do when I get there."

Jak glowered at Phobos's back. He hated when people talked about him like he wasn't there.

Out of habit, he reached for his collar to run his fingers over his amulet. That always helped him slow down when his thoughts were racing too fast. His fingers brushed against loose linen; the tunic he was wearing were not the one he'd had on the last time he was awake. Jak's stomach felt like it was plummeting from a precipice as he finally looked down at his body. Someone had dressed him in loose, lightweight clothing. There was no sign of his own clothing.

Or his amulet.

Fighting down feelings of violation and revulsion, Jak gripped the thin sheets in hands like claws.

"Where are my clothes?" he snarled, "What did you do?"

Phobos didn't look overly concerned, which only agitated Jak more.

"They're being checked for trackers or other bugs," she said with a shrug. "Haven's been trying to find our city for years. Can't be too careful. Look on the bright side: it's probably the first time they've ever been washed."

She leaned over the cot, and Jak jerked away.

"Don't touch me!"

There wasn't much room to retreat on the small bed, but Jak tried anyway.

"Who stole my amulet?"

"Hey, calm down," Phobos raised a placating hand, but dropped it quickly when Jak flinched. "Nobody stole it."

"Don't lie to me!"

Jak was over the verge of panic now. He was alone, powerless, right back to being poked and prodded like a doll. Like a lab rat.

"What do you want?!"

Grimacing, Phobos stepped back and grabbed her radio again.

"Hey Damas? Hurry it up, will ya?"

"I'm en route."

"Good. Because he just noticed the absence of a Certain Something and he is losing it right now."

"Rot. Okay, just- rot! Try to keep him calm, I'm bringing it, okay?"

The man's voice rose and fell oddly. It almost sounded like he was running.

Phobos ran a hand through her hair and puffed out her cheeks. This was not going as well as they'd hoped. Could've been worse, she acknowledged, but this kid's reactions were giving her a bad feeling. The scars, the reaction to the IV and having been given new clothing without his knowledge, it all painted a pretty grim picture.

"Damas is bringing your amulet down," she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. (How did one talk to agitated teenagers?! Why weren't they as easy to calm as toddlers?) "He'll explain everything, chico, I promise. Just...stay here a minute, okay?"

Jak warily watched the woman walk through the curtain, listening and counting her footsteps. By the sound of it, he was in the back of a narrow building. There was someone else up there, wherever Phobos had gone, but they rustled around opening drawers instead of speaking. If there were guards, Jak couldn't hear them. He hoped there were none. In his current state, he doubted he'd be able to fight them off.

A door slid open with the sound of a chime, and Jak stiffened as a heavier tread entered the building.

"About time!" he heard Phobos greet the person, "He's all yours."

"Allegedly," the voice from the radio answered.

"Mmhm. You're cute when you're in denial. Better get back there before the poor kid has a heart attack."

When the curtains parted, Jak was in the act of climbing off the cot to look for something -- anything -- to defend himself with. He froze, locking eyes with a weathered Wastelander covered in scars and armor. He looked like the kind of guy Sig would run with. Jak stared at the man and wondered if this was the guy who allegedly had his amulet. Were those piercings on his skull?! Despite himself, Jak wondered how the man slept without ripping whatever he used for a pillow.

"Easy, young one," the man murmured, holding out his hands as if approaching a skittish animal. "Easy. You're in no danger."

"Usually when people tell me that, they're lying," Jak retorted. He backed up, silently cursing his shaky legs, until his back touched the wall and the IV tugged painfully at his arm. "Where's Daxter? What do you people want with us?"

The armored man lowered himself to sit on the end of the cot and folded his hands in front of him. "Your friend is perfectly safe," he soothed, "Well, unless he tries to use the water wheel as a carnival ride, I suppose. But he doesn't really seem the type to do that kind of thing."

"You didn't answer my other question," Jak said pointedly. "What do you want?"

"Answers," the man -- Damas, probably -- replied steadily, "Just answers."

"Like what?" Jak edged closer to the IV, trying to relieve the horrific sensation of the needle.

Then his visitor reached into a cloth pouch at his belt and drew out a familiar shape.

"What can you tell me about this?" he asked, holding up the amulet.

Forgetting the needle, Jak lunged for the pendant. Pain lanced through his elbow for an instant, hot and dull, and he pulled up short. He'd learned long ago not to rip needles out. There would just be more if he did.

"Whoa!" Damas dropped the amulet on the sheets and reached out as if to steady Jak. "Slow down, boy, you're going to hurt yourself! You shouldn't even be standing right now!"

Jak, unfortunately, agreed. But he locked his knees and kept his eyes on Phobos's friend, just as he had on Phobos.

"Give it back," he rasped, holding out a demanding hand.

Damas frowned thoughtfully. He picked up the chain and considered it for a few seconds before dropping it into Jak's outstretched hand.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

With time-travel being too unbelievable an explanation even to those closest to Jak, he settled for the most open-ended version of the truth he could manage.

"Ancient ruins," he muttered.

The chain slipped down around his neck, and he visibly relaxed once the familiar weight rested against his collarbone.

Damas made an interested sound and folded his arms. "Ruins, eh? How did you find it?"

Evasively, Jak shrugged. "I just...knew where to look."

"And does this happen to you often? "Knowing" things?"

Hm. He might’ve been a little too open-ended there. Jak braced his back against the wall and begrudgingly clarified.

"I'm not a seer. It's just with eco stuff."

Damas nodded. "Ah! I understand. So what made you decide to keep such an odd little trinket?"

He wasn't being very subtle. Jak could do blunt too.

"It's mine. That's it. And I know what you're trying to do."

A hint of tension lined Damas’s neck and shoulders as he tried to play casual.

"Oh? And what am I trying to do, young one?"

Jak curled his lip at the man. "You're trying to get me to say I'm an Heir of Mar, probably so you can get some of his artifacts. What, do you want the Precursor Stone too? Well you're too late."

Any semblance of relaxation dropped from Damas like a cloak. He straightened, and the air filled with an undercurrent of warning. It was almost like eco -- enough that Jak wondered if the man could channel.

"Explain that, please."

It didn't sound like a request.

"What, exactly, do you know about the Precursor Stone?"

Jak gripped his amulet for calm.

"Not a myth," he said shortly, "Not meant to be used as a weapon, and not a rock."

He lifted his chin and met Damas’s hard eyes.

"I opened it. It can't be used anymore."

"Opened?!" Damas recoiled slightly. "You've touched the Stone?"

Suspicion colored his voice, but strangely he didn't seem to be getting hostile.

"Where did you find it?"

Agitated, Jak snapped, "In a tomb designed by some sadistic obstacle-course lover obsessed with "manhood", guarded by a bunch of loudmouth Oracles. Be glad you missed it."

He wondered if he was just setting himself up for problems later. If the Wastelanders knew he could speak to Oracles and traverse ruins, they'd probably make him pay off the medical care by finding artifacts for them. Story of his life.

But Damas looked shaken by the statement, not shrewd. He seemed almost to pale, and drew a hand over his face to rest over his mouth. His eyes bored into Jak's with an unsettling intensity.

"The amulet truly belongs to you, then," he finally acknowledged, in little more than a croak. His fingers pressed into his jaw hard enough that Jak wondered if the man would have fingerprints there later.

"How...how old are you, boy?"

What did that have to do with anything? Annoyed, Jak shrugged.

"Like I know? Fifteen, sixteen, what's it matter?"

"You don't...you don't know?" Damas looked even more shaken. "No one told you your own birthdate?"

Jak didn't want to talk about this. He finally slumped to sit at the head of the cot and crossed his arms sullenly.

"Y'know what, that's none of your business. Where's Daxter? I'm not saying anything else until I see him."

"I can arrange that."

Damas stood and absentmindedly picked up the wooden cup.

"You should er...try to sleep some. Heat exhaustion will leave you weak for a good several days-"

"Are you Damas?" Jak interrupted suddenly, as Phobos's attempted reassurances came to mind.

Damas turned. "Yes?"

He looked like he almost expected something else to follow.

Jak pulled his knees to his chest and rested folded arms on top of them. "The lady who was in here said you'd explain what you people wanted from me. And why you took my amulet."

The Wastelander looked, Jak thought, rather like he had just swallowed a bee. He made a few awkward hand motions -- some of it almost looked like signs -- and tugged on a tuft of hair at his chin.

"Ah...that is..."

He picked up the pitcher and splashed water into the cup clumsily. He was unsettled.

"The crest of Mar has...connotations. Doubtless you've learned by now, but when people see it they form...expectations."

Damas cleared his throat and handed the cup over to Jak.

"I removed it from you before the monks could see it and develop those expectations. I...wanted you to be able to focus on healing without the distraction of history zealots."

Well, that was marginally better than Jak had been imagining. He didn't exactly trust that the man was telling the truth, but at least he hadn't tried to sell it or something. Jak acknowledged his visitor's words with a curt nod and sipped at the water slowly. Idly, he wondered if his general age fit this city's "too young for serious work" bracket or not. After Haven, he honestly didn't know whether he hoped so or not.

Damas was staring at him. It was subtle, but intense, and Jak could feel his eyes. It made his brain itch, and he felt the urge to squirm uncomfortably.

"Are you in any pain?" Damas asked suddenly, apparently in response to the squirming.

"I don't like being stared at," Jak answered gruffly.

"...ah." Damas cringed and looked away. "Apologies. You just...look very familiar. I was trying to place whether I might have met you or someone you were related to in the past."

"Not unless you were in Haven before Praxis took over," Jak grumbled bitterly, "Or you took a tour of his prison labs in the last two years."

You're talking too much, Jak. Wait for Daxter. Why are you volunteering this information?

Well. He knew. He was scared and disoriented and angry, and he wanted to shock someone. Anyone. It was the dark eco talking.

"The labs?!" Damas dropped the pitcher with a crash. A terrible look flooded his face. "Did...was your whole family there?"

"Rot! Why are you guys so obsessed with information about my parents?" Jak was getting tired of repeating himself. "You know as much as I do! Even the freakin Oracles wouldn't tell me what the amulet meant until I got to the Tomb!"

From the front of the building, the third person finally called out.

"My lord, if you keep getting him worked up, I'm tossing you out. He's supposed to be resting!"

"I'm working on it, Petros!" Damas retorted sharply.

He closed his eyes and made a visible attempt to calm himself before turning back to Jak.

"Sorry. I know this is confusing. I am...having a difficult time finding the right words to ask the right questions." He made a helpless gesture. "Finding you, practically on my doorstep, with that amulet has upended my understanding of the world and my place in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jak demanded.

Damas gingerly took a seat at the end of the cot again and, sighing deeply, reached into his pouch again.

"The last time I was in Haven for an extended period of time was about fifteen years ago, at the end of the last major campaign against the metalheads."

He opened his hand, revealing a second amulet of Mar in his palm.

"After Praxis betrayed me- after the hardships our city has faced over the last few years-"

He shook his head with furrowed brow.

"I- I thought I was the only one left. And now here you are, and I have more questions than answers."

Jak blinked, then blinked again.

"Well," he said in a strangled voice, "That makes two of us."

#jak and daxter #free day thursday #fic prompts #writing prompts #mistaken identity au #dadmas #king damas #captain phobos #Damas is trying to do the math and he is Very Confused #Phobos is like 'it was the middle of the war and I'm not mad if something happened you can't remember'#but Damas is more freaked out by 'DOES THIS MEAN I'M A DEADBEAT DAD? DOES HE HATE ME? I THINK HE MIGHT HATE ME.'#jak has to deal with both mistaken identity and Damas and Phobos projecting their Mar Feels on him #ironically he IS mar but also he's a teenager and doesn't need this much supervision #Daxter thinks the whole thing is grade A entertainment #he's encouraging this nonsense #at some point Jak gets so confused by his parents' conviction that he starts questioning if Kor lied about him being Mar #but hey he's being treated like an actual kid for once. maaaaaybe spoiled a little bit.#needles tw #tw iv #my edits #digibash #digibash with raya and encanto #fake screenshot #fake screencap

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