#jak's mother

[seirei-bh]

Feirah (my version of Jak's mother) reference sheet.

More drawings about her under the cut:

#jak and daxter #feirah #jak's mother #my art

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

Splinter Cell au today! Last Splinter Cell was father-son bonding time, so today Jak gets to spend time with his mom

Phobos was a light sleeper even in the best of times. Here in this rebel base, during the second week of her and Damas rotating between Haven and Spargus with their children, even the slightest noise was enough to wake her. She sat up in her cot and let her eyes adjust to the half-light of the Babak settlement's barracks. What had roused her?

She let her eyes roam the long wooden hut, taking stock of each of her fellow Spargans and the members of Brutter's tribe. Leave it to a son of Damas to reforge the alliance between the Babak and the House of Mar by accident. Damas had been insufferable for an entire day when he found out. But Phobos found she couldn't be too irritated at him; the way Jak and his fluffy friend brightened when they heard him bragging about them was enough to make that stupid little smirk bearable. They walked a little taller any time she or Damas complimented them, Phobos had noticed. It was nice to see Jak opening up.

Thoughts of her newfound son drew her gaze to his cot, two beds over. With how restless he'd proven to be, Phobos half expected the cot to be empty. But it wasn't.

Jak sat hunched in the center of the cot with his knees pulled to his chest. Even in the gloom, it was apparent that something wasn't right. The fingers that gripped his knees were tipped with curved, black, talons. His skin had faded from bronze to an almost reflective pearl.

Oh.

Phobos had heard the reports of Jak's "Hunter" shape before, but she had never witnessed it in person. She took in the curved horns rising from his curls, and it struck her that the boy resembled nothing so much as the dragonowls that nested in the cacti in Strider Range. All he was missing were the feathers at this point. Even the flickers of violet sparks dancing across Jak's horns didn't diminish the fact that, in the context of desert life,  the Hunter form was a little endearing.

Rising from her cot, Phobos shook out her tunic and made a show of stretching. From what she'd heard, startling Jak when he was in a battle-shift didn't end well. Stark black eyes zeroed in on her in an instant, tracking her movement. Phobos smiled at him and approached his bed slowly.

"Hey, little owl" she whispered, "What's got you up so late?"

His ears flicked up, then back -- a warning that he did not want to be touched, Phobos guessed. She settled on the very end of the cot and kept her hands where he could see them. Had he had a nightmare? From the things Tess mentioned now and then, Phobos knew the boy had more reasons for nightmares than most people twice his age. They may have been just acquaintances so far, but it rankled to know a young boy had suffered so horribly with no one to stand up for him.

"Are you alright, owlet?" Phobos frowned gently and tilted her head. "Has something disturbed you?"

Surprise softened Jak’s face. He cocked his head and mirrored Phobos's frown.

"You're not afraid?" asked clawed hands.

Phobos clicked her tongue, almost scoldingly.

"Why should I be? I am as dangerous as you are, owlet. And neither of us are as dangerous as the sea."

Jak furrowed his brow and drew his knees in closer.

"...doesn't feel good," he finally admitted. "Too much dark eco, can't let it out right now."

"Ah." Phobos sighed and shifted a little closer. "You're oversaturated? Yeah? I saw that happen to your father once when an ammunition crate broke."

It was getting easier to call Damas this boy's father. Easier to think of Jak as her own.

"It was a different kind of eco, sure, but it looked like it sucked either way."

If he had been Mar -- a strange statement, considering he had been Mar in another world, another life -- Phobos would have rubbed his back and hummed him to sleep again. But Mar was a toddler, still dependent on his adults for comfort. And Jak was just a few years shy of being old enough for the Arena trials! Most teenagers his age found such coddling embarrassing; Phobos could admit that she had been one such teenager once upon a time, cringing at her own mother's public affection.

But would Jak be the same?

He was so much older than their Mar, and yet sometimes she could see her little boy peering out from behind those bright eyes. He was starved for affection, but conditioned to distrust most touch. Unbearably lonely, but afraid of rejection.

Phobos bit her lip, then held out her hand. "Come on, Jak. Let's go outside. We'll get that eco spent so you can go back to sleep, alright?"

Jak winced and looked up. Fangs dug into his lip as he frowned.

"Can't. Might need it for battle."

"There will be more eco in battle," Phobos said. She stood and kept her hand extended.

"Come on, baby. I got you. I'll watch your back, okay?"

It took another five seconds of gentle cajoling before Jak uncurled himself and slid off the cot. He didn't take her hand -- he usually didn't -- but when Phobos looked back, he had the end of her sash in one hand, twisting it around his claws like he was afraid he'd get lost if he let go. He let himself be shepherded along the catwalks connecting the Babak village to the mine shafts. The humming of the elevator seemed to vibrate in his bones, through his horns, unbearably loud.

It was better to wake up in the stifling heat of the caverns, better to be surrounded by snoring, than to find himself in the harsh cold of the Baron’s laboratories. Better to be soaked with sweat on a creaky cot than to shiver while listening to the screams of other test subjects. But even here, even from the grave, Errol still held sway over his nightmares. That was what had gathered the eco into battle-readiness in his body, looking for threats that did not exist. Jak was a haunted man.

The cool night air washed over them both, and Jak shivered. It ended in a sneeze, and the woman beside him smiled softly.

She nodded to the cliffs above the cave network.

"Sig said he saw you scale a building in this shape, fast as a lizard. I bet you're even faster with real handholds."

She stepped back and squinted as if searching for something.

"I'll bet," she said slowly, "I'll bet you there's a couple hotfoot lizards up there, actually. You can eat those, you know. They don't taste that great, but they help your body regulate heat better for a while."

She shrugged.

"Why don't you see if you can catch a few, and I'll show you how to cook them in the morning."

Jak's sharklike eyes studied the cliffs, absorbing even the smallest pinprick of light. He grinned slowly.

"Eat them raw?"

Phobos made a face. "Blegh! You can, but you might regret it later."

"I might not."

"Oy!" Phobos shook her head and laughed quietly. "You sound like Damas when he was young!"

She wasn't sure if the subsequent darker hue of the boy's skin was a blush, or if the observation had made him lose a little dark eco.

Jak bent his knees slightly, and then with a rush of air he leaped; suddenly airborne, six feet directly up. One hand caught the face of the cliff, and soon he was scaling up the rocks at a dizzying rate. Despite herself, Phobos felt her jaw drop. She had never seen anyone but a Lurker make a jump like that unaided! Would Mar be able to do that one day? Or was this an ability only Jak had, learned from the Dark Oracle that favored him?

"Look at you!" She laughed in astonishment and clapped a hand to her forehead. "I oughta put you on the rigging in my fishing boat!"

Jak reappeared after a noisy minute or two with dark spots on one cheek that looked suspiciously like blood.

"Found the lizards," he signed down to her.

Phobos raised an eyebrow. "Did you eat them?"

"No....yes. One." Then he reached back and almost sheepishly raised the battered carcass of a Glub.

"Ohhhh." Phobos squinted up through the darkness. "You want any help up there? Or do you just want to hunt until the eco runs out?"

She knew the answer before Jak had even set the Glub down to sign again.

The moment she'd said "hunt", his eyes had narrowed and his ears flicked up.

Dark eco wasn't just the element of the ocean. It was the element of the hunter, the carnivore, and the tempest. The chase was in its very nature, and right now that nature was rushing through Jak's veins at breakneck speed.

Jak bared his fangs in what was either a show of aggression to Glubs, or a very unsettling smile. Then he dropped out of sight, and Phobos guessed that he was probably shimmying along the ground to look for lizards.

He would probably be up there for a little while. Phobos strolled along the small strip of beach, looking for palm fronds to weave into a basket. She somewhat doubted that Jak would remember to actually bring her any lizards, but she liked working with her hands nonetheless. Without really thinking about it, she hummed quietly, keeping a rhythm with her hands. It was a lively tune, a folk song so old that no one in Spargus really remembered where it had come from. In the language of the people who had once lived in the ruined coastal settlements, the lyrics were something to do with a wily cacomiztli asking a cockatoo to a Fiesta with her. She praised the bird's plumage and grace, and he, flattered, agreed to go. Naturally, the song ended with the cacomiztli having a very nice party meal.

A bit morbid, perhaps, but it had a fine, rollicking melody, and easy to remember rhymes -- even for those who couldn't speak the Coastwatcher dialect. And it reminded children not to trust a flatterer.

A shuffling of feet on the sand paused Phobos's humming, and she glanced up. Jak crouched less than two feet from her, watching with a bemused expression. How was he so quiet?!

His horns had receded considerably, now no more than little nubs poking out of his curls. He'd gotten some color back, too.

"Oye, owlet, did you bring me any lizards?" Phobos asked.

Sheepishly, he held up two lizard tails. Evidently, he had forgotten that the creatures could detach their tails and flee. By the mess on his hands, Phobos guessed he'd spent more time hunting Glubs. She laughed and patted the sand next to her.

"Better luck next time, eh? Here- go get yourself a frond. We're making baskets until you're ready to go back to sleep."

The dark eco continued to fade as Jak struggled to weave with claws. What little hadn't been expended on the small carnivores up the cliff was rapidly being reabsorbed into his bloodstream. When the dark form dropped entirely, Phobos almost didn't notice at first. Jak was as quiet as before, sitting still and watching her weave. She continued to hum until a raspy voice interrupted her.

"Did...Dax...teach you...that?"

Phobos glanced up and noticed Jak wince and massage his throat. She clicked her tongue sympathetically.

"Regretting eating that lizard raw, huh? Too bad we didn't bring our canteens so you could wash that taste out."

"It...was bad." Jak made a face.

With a chuckle, Phobos scooted closer. "Alright owlet, let me see what you've got."

She looked at the sad, lopsided basket, and took hold of Jak's hands to guide him.

"Here: over, under. Over, under. Do that all the way around until you have an alternating pattern on each stem."

Jak furrowed his brows and did his best to follow her movements.

"You didn't answer my question," he croaked.

Ugh. That taste was going to sit in his throat for hours.

"Which one, baby?" Phobos asked, reaching over to flick a coil of hair out of his face.

Baby.

Nobody had ever called him baby before. Well, not sincerely, anyway. Jinx and his guys did sometimes, but they called everyone nicknames like that, because they were weird.

They didn't have the same warmth in their voices, and they definitely didn't apply affectionate nicknames to his dark form!

"The song. Daxter's favorite when we were little. Did he teach you?"

Phobos leaned back. "It's been around that long? Huh! Didn't think the Coastwatcher people went as far as Dead Town."

Jak shrugged. "Daxter's not from Sandover either. He showed up in a boat a year before I did. Said a hurricane washed his village away and he was trapped in the boat."

Jak paused as something occurred to him.

"Wait. How far is your island from Misty Island?"

"Misty Island?"

"Where everyone says the Nest is," Jak clarified.

With how much dark eco had been there when he was a kid, he wasn't surprised that the metalheads had chosen Misty Island to nest.

"About two days on a propeller boat," Phobos said, rubbing her chin, "Closer to two hours by air."

The math lined up surprisingly well, and Jak began to wonder if perhaps his best friend had his origins on the same island he had allegedly been born on. One more thing tying them together; Daxter would be so excited!

"You telling me your buddy in the Titan Suit is a Coastwatcher?" Phobos asked with interest.

"Um...maybe? Have to ask."

Phobos whistled low. "When we go home, we'll have to keep the monks from snatching him. They're obsessed with history and archeological discovery. You tell them a Coastwatcher ancestor is still living and they'll lose their minds."

Jak laughed, almost silently. "He'd probably like that, though. It's rough being the last survivor."

Phobos wrapped an arm around his shoulders and, distracted as he was, Jak simply leaned into her. Phobos stilled, unwilling to jeopardize this moment. She smiled and set her basket aside to brush a hand over her son's hair.

"Well. Neither of you are alone now," she murmured. "And I can promise you, we're not going anywhere."

Was it her imagination, or did Jak lean into her side a little further?

They sat quietly for a moment, watching the waves roll in and out. Then, barely audible over the hiss of the surf, Jak whispered,

"Good."

#jak and daxter #splinter cell au #fic prompts #writing prompts #free day thursday #phobos #captain phobos #jak's mother #spargan ocs #jak and daxter au #my headcanon is that the ruins on the edge of the wasteland used to trade with sandover #and everyone in sandover always treats dax like an outsider so i figured hey maybe he came from another village #the descendants of the Coastwatcher settlements now live mostly in Spargus and don't know a lot about the communities lost in the hurricane #dark jak #dark jak gets to be treated with affection! #owlet is his mom's personal nickname for him now because of his dark form

[ffishstickks]

Happy Mothers Day!

Despite never having a mother in my life myself, I'd like to dedicate this day to the women in my years who have genuinely changed my life.

Lets take this day to appreciate Moms, Aunts, Grandmothers, Sisters, anyone in your life who could've raised you and helped you become a better you. The word mother doesnt necessarily mean the person who gave birth to you, so take this day and use it to spread positive energy for yourself and others!

#happy mothers day #jak harasi #lovers trophy

[hecketernal]

IT'S THE HORNS AU

Descendants of Mar have a remarkable tendency to grow horns.

Every Ex-Havenite old enough to remember the family of Mar knows this. They come in all kinds of colors and shape, and even the horn growth pattern seems completely random. A parent often having entirely different looking horns to their child. Damas wondered if Mars' horns would be so different to his own. They hadn't grown in before he was taken. Most descendants didn't start budding until at least their teens.

Mar, the warrior who built Haven city, bore two thick, tusk-like horns that framed his jaws. Damas' mother had had blackened ram horns, meanwhile his sister had had a bright neon blue pair that grew out of her temples angled out like a second pair of ears. It had always made his older sister look rather intimidating. With the sharp cut of her eyeliner drawn in angular slashes around her eyes, he had watched no small number of men quail under that glare.

So yes, those that were old enough (or just brusque enough as native wastelanders tend to be to ask the king to his face why he had horns coming out of his noggin') knew exactly what having horns meant to their leader.

This is the reason why the arena grows hushed, when the newest recruit transforms into a pale frenzied thing with black little horns standing out clearly from the white hair.

#can't stop won't stop #making aus #jak and daxter #jak #damas #it's the horns au #jnd #my aus #several wastelanders are getting bruised ribs from all the excited elbowing from the wastelanders next to them #should have been paying more attention to what was happening in the arena Ruin and Futz #already coming up with ocs? yes #Ruin renamed herself Ruin because she's petty and dramatic and when she was told she would spell ruin for her family by getting exiled... #well she took that shit personally #Futz was named Futz cause he gave his wastelander mother a lot of grief by always kicking his little baby footsies into his mother's kidney #jak 3 #damas jnd #jnd damas #jak and daxter au #damas jak and daxter

[troblsomtwins829]

Coming up with a design for a hu'men Daxter. Not just for art, but also for a cosplay. Mostly just getting the main ideas out for it, accessories can wait

#jak and daxter #jnd #jnd fanart #human!daxter #cosplay concept #troblsomart #Mother Flutter is optional

[jak2gooberglub]

Another one

(Jak edit I mean)

#jak and daxter #dark jak #jak #jak2 #jak 2 renegade #jak 3 #jak and daxter fanart #my edit #edit audio #jak x combat racing #dark jak wednesday #light jak friday #light jak #mother mother #burning pile

[professor-glasses]

A long time ago guilt trip and self depreciation USED to work on me but then it happened continuously too many times and I got jaded and now it just makes me either exasperated or mad instead. lol

#pro tip don't be self depreciating or insecure in a guilt trippy way around me it will only succeed in activating Pissed Off Jak #my brain immediately goes ah you sound like my mother. and tunes out from whatever you are saying #sorry to hear that but sounds like a you problem

[artstar1997]

Batch 2 for the Fairy AU is complete. Not much is known, except that their wings are based on different insects. I kinda see the House of Mar in the fairy au are butterfly-winged while most of the Krimzon Guard are moth-winged, with the exception of Erol, who has the wings of the postman butterfly. As for Sig and the Wastelanders, they have the wings of beetles, dragonflies, wasps, and hornets. Wings used: https://i0.wp.com/critterfacts.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/European-Peacock-butterfly-Inachis-io.jpg?resize=1080%2C810&ssl=1 https://i.etsystatic.com/6853575/r/il/e446e7/4523532584/il_fullxfull.4523532584_1dpj.jpg https://media.istockphoto.com/id/175123218/photo/butterfly-papilio-antimachus.jpg?s=612x612&w=0&k=20&c=blDEkwS4mvxDhFS8SdJRWeDpSELUCG3NXWmahLUcBhc= https://t3.ftcdn.net/jpg/05/10/27/48/360_F_510274877_68Yx6TmdJHQvOngkuJpxxgOtsrjFbrF8.jpg https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/8d/Heliconius_melpomene_penelope_MHNT_dos_Femelle.jpg/1280px-Heliconius_melpomene_penelope_MHNT_dos_Femelle.jpg

Mar Twins Update:

#jak and daxter #jak oc #jak’s mother #jnd #damas #sig #baron praxis #erol #razer #fairy au

[kwiecista]

so... do you have a favorite chicken

[ ❀ ]━ Curiosity is the first step to hell

How could you ask such a question! Does a mother have a favorite child? Does a poet have a favorite poem? Does a musician have a favorite song?  Absolutely not!

Although I have a strong respect for Dalia.  I swear, that I’ve never seen a chicken act so motherly in my life.  And it’s absolutely adorable how the little chicks follow her around.

#(answered) #wzlecę w górę wysoko jak feniks z popiołów (ic) #*I love all my children equally meme* #I struggled coming up with things equate with the mother and her children so I know they are weak examples but I tried (tm)

[molliemoo3]

Weve been summoned and im stressed

#f2 #formula 2 #dennis hauger #why cant it just be a nice normal podium #but no im having to search for which appendices of the international sporting code may have been broken #its an issue with the final overtake #specifically of jak #the cordeel one seems fine given he was essentially going backwards i suppose #in gonna stress bake for mothers day til i gwt an answer

[seirei-bh]

I did a remake of my old design about my version of Jak's mother! Feirah, a wastelander and artifact runner. You can see other drawing about her with her son here.

She was away from Spargus all the time because she had some important missions to do outside.

I decided to not add her bio here, despite of I wrote a lot about her, because I've changed some stuff about her backstory, besides some details are important spoilers about my fanfic (yep, finally I'm going back to keep writing it! Actually I've been working on it, but I couldn't post anything new because I was still fixing plot holes of Jak 3 and doing other stuff).

#my nickname there is the one I use on my twitter and my new Instagram #I've added more details to her design like some little changes in her clothes #and more braids in her hair and more scars #if Naughty Dog never gives me lore about the mothers of these games I'll do it instead! #feirah #jak's mother #jak and daxter #jak 3 #Jak inherited the physical features from his mother and Damas's personality #all the members of this crazy family are stubborn as fuck though #jak 3 the last war

[radioactivepeasant]

(For context, this is a scene from this part of the Splinter Cell au that I thought would be fun to draw)

Bonus:

#my art #jak and daxter #jak and daxter mar #jak 2 renegade #splinter cell au #jnd oc #jak and daxter oc #Jak's mother #captain phobos

[heatsu]

Imagine having had been playing piano for like 4 years only to not be able to draw a piano

#like literally #I took my first classes when i wS in kindergarten #and ny mother is a piani teacher #we have a piano at home #why is rhis so hard #like i really wanted to drsw rip playing piano because ZAAACZNIJ OD BAAAACHAAA GDY SLOONCE PO DAAAAACHAACH ZZWSAKKOCZU JAK KOT PO NO CY CME #But i had to give up #so unfair #also is this imagine having had been playing sentence even correct #i put it into few grammar checkers and it didn't show any mistakes vut #its weird #au #drawing my hs au rip and she's gonna get that y2k ugly ass sweater dw

[troblsomtwins829]

My Headcanon for the future of Spargus is Tess taking over as its queen. She has so much potential as a leader, backed by years of experience working with the Underground, espionage, customer service, a hobby in firearms, an expansive knowledge base and an incredible ability to mediate.

With Daxter at her side, of course.

#jak and daxter #jnd #jnd fanart #Spargus Queen Tess #Mother Flutter #Daxter has a bird in this one #it started as a joke #she would be perfect #and terrifying when she wants to be #troblsomart

[quinnred]

Shrileket: God of the Beautiful Wrath, God of the Spear, Sun-Dropper Shrileket is the embodiment of focus, gust, conspiracy, spears, venom, meteors, and just punishment. He is represented by the Cone-Shell in the South, and by the Heron and Fisher in the North. Warriors may wear an eye-marked sea shell upon their head or as necklace to evoke Shrileket’s accuracy and deliverance and be blessed with a just rage.

The Shell Gods were gods of strength, endurance, and handiwork, and so the birth of the armless and scrawny Shrileket to a consort of Zridtara was not revered. The wobbly weakling only had a shell upon his small head and had no feet but pin points that left it oddly balanced. Afraid to inform their chief, the consort left the newborn to be raised by the Servikah giants within the lower chambers of the Mesa. Despite his seeming lameness, Shrileket was already quite clever and remembered each wrong done to him as he grew in the shadows of his Shell kin, from the neglect of his mother to the bullying of his siblings. From hidden corners of the Mesa, he payed great attention to the habits of each brother and planned every detail of their shaming. He perfected his movements under the guise of dancing with his Servikah and sharpened his shell head with his feet. He would challenge his proudest and tallest brother, Thulla the god of Towers, to a duel. Red with laughter, Thulla agreed to the contest with this comical upstart and met him at the ground of his choosing. The brothers would fight upon the morning ground of Glarelund, carved into an arena so Thulla and Shrileket’s siblings could be audience. After a boast of mockery, Thulla’s first step into the ring followed with immediate foolery as the tall god teetered and tottered upon the shiny ground. Shrileket, however, slid with grace and elegance, dancing around the oaf with pecks and kicks to trip him further. In but a few moments Thulla had fallen, intensely embarrassed by Shrileket who had known that ice grew thin and smooth in the mornings of this region due to his Servikah guardians. Shrileket’s glee was the brightest he felt in a long time, but would sour as Thulla spit cruelties at the victor. Too indignant to let his win soothe him, Shrileket pounced on his brother and castrated him with his sharpened head to the horror of his fellows. The victory of the honourable duel had been ignored by the Shell Gods, instead enraged by the maiming of their proudest son and had banished Shrileket. Painting himself eyes from the gore of Thulla, Shrileket remembered the face of each and every one who cursed him and set off into the world. From there he would receive an invitation from the Feather Gods who admired Shrileket’s strategy and wrath, and especially his shaming of Thulla and gifted him with cloth weaved from god feather so he may join them in The Sun. Shrileket accepted and would earn further gifts, such as Godler servants sculpted into arms for his use and a consort for whom weaved him his cloth. From there he would take his seat at the bottom of The Sun, enthroned upside down at it’s tear ducts were he harvest his sunlight spears to damn those he chooses. Though his cool rage made him a fine arbitrator, his arm servants despised their role and their master and ever whispered bad advice and annoyances into his ears. Their hope was to be destroyed by their owner and freed of their obligations, released into the next life. Unfortunately for them Shrileket found it better to punish their betrayal with further eternal service. His many years of dedication as a divine punisher would end upon the beginning of the Deiomachy, as he would be sent to stop his brother-by-fate god of rage, Tilshek, from entering The Sun. Disgusted by how much Tilshek reminded him of an unrefined self, Shrileket would stop at nothing to kill the half-Jak, dropping from The Sun like tear drop lighting. Their clash would announce war between the Feather and Shell, booming as only gods could for days until they fell upon each other’s impalements.

#slaughtermauch #shrileket #gods #rage #quinn red #art #fantasy

[artstar1997]

Here’s what I thought of what would Jak and Jakleen’s mom look like. I can see Hera as a daughter of an aristocrat who was a disowned heir of a clan from the far off lands, which is revealed to be Aeropa. Hera’s father was considered an outcast among his Spargan family members but with dedication to diplomacy and political talents, he succeeded in rising up the political ranks of his clan and become a member of the Spargan council after he aided Damas in overthrowing the last king. During Damas’s time in Spargus, he fell in love with Hera and they got married. 

Name: Hera Hobbies: Singing, dancing, fashion designing, painting, hairdressing, cooking, baking, and organizing Parents: Acamapichtli and Coszcatl Personality: Motherly, confident, hardworking, generous, open-minded, optimistic, caring, ambitious, protective, short tempered, aggressive, vain, and arrogant

Friends: Sig (he is her second cousin twice removed), Drake, Strife, Deimos, Phobos, Dora, Chel, Maya, Masawa, Hex, Kursed, Krystal, 

Siblings: Mazatl, Ixchel, Cuauhtlequetzqui, Cuahtémoc, Eloxochitl, Iktan

Spouse: Damas (she’s taller than him)

Children: Jak and Jakleen

#jak and daxter #jak oc #jak’s mother