#usually my other more serious drawings are cleaner

[sketch-guardian]

For the anon who asked about Remiel's parents, I finally found some free time to do a quick messy sketch of them😌it isn't much, but it should be enough for a concept idea🙈for Azrael at least, since Death's design is from Darksiders. Anyway, here's Remiel:

While these are Azrael and Death, Remiel's parents:

Azrael usually calls Death "My beacon of light", while she uses "My miracle" for Remiel. Also, I added a small close up as well:

It's been a while since my last sketch, so I hope it doesn't suck too much🙈

[bonefall]

Unrelated to the new book blurb:

do you have any tips on processing the absolute mess that is the family tree? Like, how does one put it into smaller bites for re-doing/adjusting? How does one even begin to rework it when it's such a confusing tangle?? I'm just so overwhelmed by the tree(s), and I've read the whole series (because I would love to re-work it, but FUCK).

I will be 100% earnest with you; reworking the tree from scratch as a single person is both difficult and time consuming. I have a penchant for it, and even I'm not completely done. I make my reduxed trees totally free to use so that others at least have a jumping-off point for your own "cleaner" Clans.

So my most helpful tip would probably be Don't. PLEASE take my trees and cut them, prune them, bonsai them, clean them up even more than I did, anything you'd like. I do not wish this fate on my worst enemy.

That said-- let's say you love pain as much as I do, or you just want to see how much work I put into these trees. I'll babble about my process.

This is my WIP file for the ShadowClan Family Tree. Consider this image a content warning for self-inflicted pain and suffering 💕

Uhhh and also; an ACTUAL, serious content warning. Because of the nature of them asking how to fix trees on their own, I have to talk a little about incest. It comes with the territory.

A few things to know before you start;

You will need a FUCK OFF MASSIVE monitor for this. Mine is an ASUS a little under 2 feet long-- I've tried doing this on my smaller, secondary monitor, and these trees just get too big to work on.

FamilyEcho will not cut it. You NEED an art program. You will have to do this by hand, because there is no lineage-drawing tool that can handle families this large and tangled.

You will need to decide your "rules" beforehand. How closely related are you allowing valid couples to be? Are you allowing Queen's Rights? Can you add OCs, and if so, how often? On this point-- I have my Three Strict Rules, and do not use OCs. Because of this, I do a LOT of research beforehand and usually have the wiki open as I work on these. I'm always scouring for forgotten warriors to use for this.

There are going to be multiple drafts. You will not do this in one go. That does not mean you "failed" or you're "stuck," that's a good thing.

With all of that out of the way.

Usually, the first thing I do is pick a Clan to work on. There's over 1,000 cats in this series, so I break that up by picking one group at a time. Once I do that, I draw out the canon chart.

In this case, I've already drawn out all of the canon charts. River, Thunder, Shadow, Sky, Wind.

I call this a Diagnosis because I'm taking a look at what the problem is, so that I know what I'm fixing. In Shadow's case, it's a solid brick of inbreeding with a "missing generation" line. In ThunderClan's case, it's mostly a Robinwing x Fuzzypelt problem. Each Clan has its own unique issues.

Once you know the issue, step two, start drawing out what you want to do and keep. For example, let's say that you want to use the Ivy/Dove as Holly/Cinder kittens idea.

I generally try to start with the "modern" cats and work backwards, but it can also be helpful to just doodle out floating "branches" that you want to work in backwards.

You can see examples of those in my ShadowClan draft, up there, but I've zoomed in and circled them.

Don't be afraid to draw "notes" like this. You can just grab them and drag them around when something clicks!

Getting back to our "example" tree with Holly/Cinder Ivy/Dove, you might notice now that Lionblaze has no mate. Another thing I do when I see an immediate problem but don't have a solution in mind yet is use a little ? mark. You don't want to get hung up on deciding everything RIGHT away.

Now, this is where my 3 Strict Rules would come into play, in two ways! I'm sure you'll be able to spot them. For one, Lionblaze has waaaaay too many kids here who would go on to have kittens of their own, so I'd start breaking them up. For two, this tree makes Ivypool and Fernsong a first cousin pairing, something I don't allow.

You can fix this in any number of ways, and I'm sure there's someone out there shouting their preferred Lionblaze ships and Alt Fernsong Parents like they're the crowd on a game show, but for this demonstration I'm going to do this;

Here, I decided I didn't want to undo FernIvy, but I still want Fernsong to be Clanborn with two parents, so I have removed him from Lionblaze and given him unknown family. I've also taken Sorrelstripe and Spotfur, and moved them to a little spot on the side. I can now use them to patch up the little ? placeholders.

You'll also notice this is already becoming a mess. This is why you will need to redraw this a few times, for readability. The best tip I can give you for that is that families who only have one kit to carry on the lineage should go in a long line in the center, but otherwise, offspring who do not have kits should go between their siblings who do.

It's easier to visualize it imo, so here's what I mean;

The vast majority of the time I spend doing these is just "puzzlework." Trying to figure out a way to make line connections look good, making sure cats are far enough apart, trying to make "wishlist" stuff work.

Here's some insight to that with the big ShadowClan mess I showed at the beginning of this post;

And, mind you, this is Draft 3 of this tree. Those grayed-out parts of the first image were my first two. I wasn't satisfied enough with them, so I started from scratch several times!

I wish I could share some kind of good, simple process for this, but unfortunately I don't have one. It's just a lot of work, familiarity, creativity, and problem solving. I spend days, sometimes even weeks on these. My intention is that they can be a fandom resource that's easier to read than the website tree, less carelessly inbred with more thought given to immediate family units, AND more comprehensive.

In any case, I hope this was insightful, or these tips I share helped in some way!

[kaisaniku]

I finally finished the second chapter of this doodle comic!

Basically from a translation machine:

It's called notes, but it's really bullshit time:

(I didn't put any asterisks in the "text" in order to make the picture cleaner and not make this little comic seem too serious)

①WX says that their body "doesn't have any of those really advanced things" and that "the concept is just bionic", which might make you wonder how WX can agree with their own shortcomings when they are always been so confident in their own machine body. This is kind of a guess: WX's comments in the wiki about Wagstaff being "afraid of progress" and "short-sighted", combined with WX's usual machine-worshiping and violent tendencies, such as their comments about Maxwell "He has that kind of power but he doesn't go out and destroy human". So it's an offense to them, but they actually agree that even though they claim to be superior, I guess WX would like to see their bodies more advanced and even more radical.

② Yes, this WX has acceleration circuits installed.

③ Gnome get✓ Do you guys remember the line where WX checks the Gnome

④ "You're not as kind as you look", how should I put this one, because the Wilson I understand is more or less with a little bit of darkness in his mind, he's someone who is full of emotions but often restrains them with reason, he fears and hates the negative impulses and instincts within himself. And this trait I think probably comes from his good nature, his education and survival experiences and the influence of the Shadow Throne. (But honestly after suffering in CONSTANT for so long, it's normal for whoever it is to be a little psychologically unhinged, not to mention the SANITY setting.) And after WX's soulwalking, they easily have some "psychic empathy" with Wilson... ...... Well, how did that happen Wilson?

⑤ Well I know the reasoning of the empathy module episode is weird ...... In fact, it's mainly because when I drew this plot I didn't have a good understanding of the empathy module, and simply thought of it as something like "emotional deficiency", so this episode was supposed to be Wilson saying "why do I still feel emotional ups and downs blabla" and then WX explaining that it's because of "memories of emotional experiences", which would have made a lot more sense.

⑥I guess it's my own personal setting: although the game doesn't make a distinction, I don't think WX as a robot would have a "headache and blurred vision due to lack of sanity". The system will be affected, sure, but the physiology won't necessarily feel it. It's hard to go from luxury to frugality, and since there is no experience in the eternal realm in the human era, WX can't adapt to the negative impacts of sanity reduction at all.

⑦Wilson's curiosity and desire to explore and then equipped with WX's hardware strength is simply ON FIRE. and "adapting to the human body so quickly" this conclusion mainly comes from the last chapter when the two people just transformed the body, Wilson's side is very difficult, while the WX on the contrary, it seems to be very easy. Even when they suddenly possessed internal organs, blood, light weight and so on, there was no adverse reaction. Wilson, who loves to observe, has always had suspicions (sorry however I didn't draw this clue out)

⑧ on the one hand, just learned a shocking secret, excited and energetic Wilson, on the other hand is the history of the exposure, and is also experiencing unprecedented headache WX. so the two temperament is not quite the same as usual.

⑨ "Wiped of most of their human memories" from the game's credits: "Suddenly recalling the memories of his past life, WX-78 soon decides to change his fate on his own."

⑩ Those of you who have fought Shadow creatures online might know that the only way a teammate's Shadow creature will have hatred for you is if you've forcibly attacked them. What happened here is that WX forced an attack on Wilson's Shadow Creature (except that Wilson was still relying on his headache of empirical judgment and didn't realize that his SANITY was too low), and then WX's own shadow creatures that were looming all showed up as well, which is why it became so much more. I don't have a very comprehensive understanding of this mechanic online though, and it doesn't seem to be very rigorous, so that's probably what it is anyway.

I accidentally added a lot more, mainly because of the limited ability to express the drawing ... Hope you enjoy!

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 7)

(Trigger warning for Shawn realizing he's a murderer, I guess?)

They all stand over the body, just… staring.

After a thorough sloshing of their entire everythings, the three had called a cab. Together. Mostly because none of them could stand up without the support of the entire group, but partly because even through their muddled drink-saturated haze they knew they all had to be there when Shawn woke up.

Apparently he did while they were out.

And now there’s a corpse on Shawn’s apartment floor. 

Things had sobered up fast once it had been noticed. The night had been filled with crying (mostly from Gus, but not solely), yelling, delirious laughing over how awful the last few hours were. Only hours, only hours! It hadn’t even been a full night. The sun is still not up yet as they stare at the body with perfect little holes in it’s neck.

Shawn had been a lot cleaner with it than the woman who bit him had been. Maybe he had struggled more than this man had. Maybe she did it on purpose. It doesn’t really matter right now- but it does, doesn’t it? Because Shawn knows which one it was, and he’ll have to live–

He’ll have to exist, with whichever is the truth.

“Who’s going to go check on him?” Jules whispers. None of their eyes leave the body. Shawn did this. Shawn did this. Shawn… did this.

“I will.” Gus and Lassiter say in unison. They look at each other, a little disgusted and more than a little startled at sharing thoughts and words like that. 

“We’ll all go, then.” Jules’s hand hovers by her gun- she and Lassiter haven’t taken them off once since they all got into the car to go to the mansion. That feels like a lifetime ago. It was only hours.

Gus keeps behind Lassiter and Jules and tries to prepare himself for anything– but the tension all three hold is broken by a snore.

Gus pushes out in front of the detectives and is the first to see Shawn laying on the bed, snoring, and Gus hadn’t cleaned up Shawn’s mouth before but he knows that there’s more blood caked in the corners now than there was when everyone left. Shawn snores again, mumbles something in his sleep, and rolls over.

His neck is fine.

Okay, not fine, but better. The holes aren’t holes anymore, just pale pink flesh that’ll probably scar but they’re closed and healed and Shawn is breathing! He’s breathing, he’s snoring, and his skin isn’t ashen anymore it’s alive and he looks alive!

Gus lurches forward to– he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he just knows Shawn is breathing and snoring and looks like himself and even though there’s blood around his mouth and fangs where his canines should be he looks alive!

“Are you crazy?!” Lassiter yanks Gus back behind him and Jules. “We just saw a corpse in his pathetic excuse of a living room and you’re trying to jump in the bed with him?”

“I wasn’t jumping into the bed, Lassie, I was going to wake him up! Look at him, he’s-”

“Full of the blood of some would-be burglar, yeah, I can see that. I should’ve staked him earlier, dammit, now there’s a dead body on our hands and he’s-”

Shawn yawns. Lassiter draws his gun while Jules almost draws hers. Shawn sits up, rubs his eyes, and groans. When he opens his eyes they’re bright red, glowing red, but they widen with shock and his hands shoot up in surrender.

“Lassie, buddy, I don’t know what I did to make this happen but- Jules? Gus?” Shawn’s confusion sounds real, looks real, but there’s still blood on his lips. “What is… oh, wow.” He puts a hand to his head, and then the other, massaging his temples. “I feel like I got hit by a truck… or maybe a bear… something big.”

“Do you feel an unquenchable, unsatisfiable hunger?” Gus pipes up.

“No more than usual… wait, no, yes more than usual. No?” Shawn’s confusion deepens, brows pinching. He stops massaging his temples to simply rest a finger on them, trying to focus. “I don’t… what happened?”

“This could be a trick.” Lassiter keeps his gun drawn.

“Lassie, I’m- I’m serious, man, I don’t… oh, my god, everything… hurts.” They can practically see Shawn’s awareness trickling back to him, like systems flicking on one-by-one in an old computer, processing programs and checking for faults before booting up entirely. He clutches his stomach, and then feels his neck, and then rubs his wrists. Something else clicks for him, and he looks back at the trio, lost. “Why’re you all here?”

“... Shawn, what’s the last thing you remember?” Jules keeps her arm in front of Gus, speaking softly, like Shawn is a feral kitten she’s trying to coax into a box.

“I, uh…” Shawn presses his fingers back to his temples, and then shakes his head. “I-I was on my bike. I don’t… know… why, I don’t- why can’t I-”

“Carlton, I think he’s in shock,” Jules whispers.

“Why is everyone shouting everything, by the way?” Shawn lays back down and puts the pillow he’d been cradling over his ears. “Seriously guys, just- I think I have the hangover to end all hangovers or something.”

“O’Hara-”

“If he doesn’t remember what happened, maybe he didn’t even mean to do… that.”

“Then that’s worse. Spencer’s lack of self-control is already dangerous enough.”

“Guys, seriously, just a little quieter, my head feels like Gus’s mom came at it with the potato masher.”

“We’re whispering as quietly as we can, Shawn.”

“Jules, I don’t know how to tell you this, but your whisper could literally wake the dead.”

A hysterical laugh almost bubbles up out of her, or maybe a sob- she can’t tell which. Maybe it’s actually just all the shots, realizing they’re no longer effective and wanting to make an exit. 

“Shawn, do you remember the case we were on?” Gus whispers so quietly that Jules hears the sound of saliva in his mouth better then the actual words– something she’s witnessed him and Shawn communicate with many times over, and somehow they’re always able to understand what the other is saying, even when it devolves into the most unintelligible babble she’s ever heard.

“We’re on a case?” Shawn’s sounding more and more tired the longer he’s awake. “Is that why we’re all in my apartment? Did I get drugged or something? Someone throw me a bone here, I’m- I feel like I’m flying blind.” There’s a slight tremor in his voice. “I’m not used to this.”

“Creepy mansion, weird cult?”

“Are you describing the case or the last movie we watched together?”

“The last movie we watched together wasn’t a horror, it was the first Star Trek movie.”

“It was? … I’m all jumbled up, Gus.” Shawn pulls the pillow tighter over his head. “I don’t- it’s not there. I can’t even… god, my head really hurts, it won’t stop pound…”

Something in Shawn’s body language shifts, like he’s a marionette and someone just picked up the strings to begin moving him around. There’s a tension, and they see his head move to tilt under the pillow, lips pursed yet parted as something slides into place in his mind.

“... Pounding,” he finishes. “But that’s not…”

He pulls the pillow off his head. His glowing eyes stare right into Gus, sharp and searching. “Gus, say something again- quiet as you can.”

Gus swallows. Shawn twitches backwards a little.

“Okay, I know that doesn’t get that loud, no matter how hungover someone is.”

“Shawn,” Gus whispers so quietly it’s the La Croix of speaking, a tremble to his lip and eyes watering again. “You uh-”

Shawn fumbles with his pockets for a second as Gus can’t seem to get the words out. He finds his phone and freezes as he looks into the screen.

Everyone else, even Lassiter, lean forward to see what Shawn sees.

There is a reflection- and an accurate one.

Shawn just stares at it. His eyes start to twitch a little, and lose focus, and everyone can practically see the desperate whirring of gears in his head as things click together and fall into place.

Shawn puts a hand over his chest, and pales- Jules and Gus have to look away from the sight. Lassiter swallows, but stays ready to act, eyes trained on Shawn.

Shawn reaches up to his mouth and opens it, feeling his teeth. He starts to shake. His hand brushes his lips as it comes down, and he pulls it away, and sees fine flakes of dried blood on his fingertips.

He’s speechless. And it feels wrong. Shawn doesn’t get speechless. Not even when his life depends on it. 

“... Please tell me there’s not a dead guy out in my living room right now.” His voice is small, thin, shaky. It’s wrong, everything about this is wrong, this whole night has been wrong and it keeps getting worse–

“Tell us what happened, Spencer.”

Shawn cradles the pillow to his abdomen again, eyes darting around his room, looking for something and not finding it. “I don’t– I thought I was dreaming, I– oh my god-” He coughs. “No, no no no-”

“Shawn, it’s going to be okay.” Jules steps forward now, even as Lassiter makes a noise at her to not. “You didn’t mean to, right?”

Shawn flounders for an answer, and it’s almost as jarring as seeing him dead. 

“Shawn. You didn’t mean to. Did you?”

“I– I thought I was dreaming. I thought I was… it felt like a smoothie, it just–”

“O’Hara, get back behind me or draw your gun.”

“He’s in shock!” Jules creeps closer, closer, and puts a hand on Shawn’s shoulder. He jolts like she just tased him.

“You’re warm.”

Jules’s eyes water again. “No, Shawn. You’re just very, very cold.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus is writing a list on an old takeout receipt as all three sit on Shawn’s bed, listening to water run in the bathroom. Shawn’s been in there for almost an hour now. He’d gurgled an entire bottle of mouthwash, scrubbed his lips raw, and then his clothes had been tossed out the door and it had slammed shut but even so they could all feel and even see the steam of the hot shower, curling up and out under the bathroom door.

Gus puts the pen to his lips. “Okay, so after he–” Gus swallows, and skips over saying it entirely. “His skin got it’s color back, and he gained back his lucidity, and he has a reflection. Mary said they were daywalkers, so maybe this is all part of that.”

“More importantly, his morals are still intact.” Jules taps the paper. “Which must be just awful to deal with. I can’t even imagine waking up and…”

“Yeah. … What uh…” Gus looks ill. “What do we do about it?”

“The body?” Lassiter looks at Gus with a pinched expression. “He murdered someone, Guster. We have to take him in for it.”

“Carlton-”

“He murdered someone.”

“Well he got murdered first!” Gus’s own words sink in with him and he looks even more ill, which Lassiter didn’t think was possible. “Lassie, he’s not going to do it again.”

“We didn’t think he’d do it once.”

“I can hear you guys!” Shawn’s voice startles all of them, most of all the pain in it. “Please take this conversation somewhere very, very far away! Like Mexico, or the moon!”

“We need to do something, Shawn!”

“GAH!” It sounds like he falls over.

Jules covers her mouth. “Sorry,” she says, this time speaking at a normal volume instead of shouting, against all instincts.

“It’s fine.” Shawn’s voice is strained. “I– I think Lassie is right.”

“Shawn–”

“Jules, I– I killed someone. Not even a bad guy– well, I guess he was kind of a bad guy, but not a really bad bad guy. He didn’t even have a gun on him.”

Gus is getting really sick of these thick, tense silences. He wonders if he should do what he did with the first Yang situation, try to make things light and filled with just stuff. Shawn had asked him to. This feels even less appropriate, though, somehow.

The water shuts off, and Shawn’s hand sticks out of a crack in the door. “Someone give me a towel? And uh, clothes?”

Gus passes them to Shawn, and their hands touch for a moment- Shawn’s skin is warm, but it’s not natural. He’s warm the way a steamed bun is, or a microwaved sandwich, or a slice of gas station pizza left under a hot lamp. He’s not warm like a person. 

He steps out a few moments later. The blood is gone, his clothes are clean, his hair is plastered down to his head and face instead of carefully styled up. He looks vulnerable, if not for the inhuman eyes and fangs.

He’s breathing again- Gus grabs the receipt and adds that. Maybe it’s a natural camouflage? Actually–

“Dude, when we first met those vampires, they looked like normal people.”

Shawn narrows his eyes, clearly trying to draw a memory of it to the surface. “I’ll take your word for it, man.”

“No, Shawn, I mean you can probably do that too.”

“Gus, I appreciate you trying to uh, to figure this out for me, but I–I don’t think it’ll help, man.” He presses his fingers to his temples again. “I can’t even remember why I was… whenever, I don’t– I’m blocked, and if I can’t remember that then– I mean, what if– I thought it was a dream. I think I even snuck up on him just on pure instinct, I mean that’s– what if that happens on a case and it’s one of you guys with me? I break into your apartment all the time, it’s second nature to me man, what if I do that while all…” He waves his hand around his head and whistles.

“If you think I’m not sleeping with cross-covered bedsheets and a bottle of holy water on my nightstand after this, you’ve actually lost it.”

“Fair. … I wonder if those actually work? I guess I did choke when I said oh my go…d?” He coughs again, and this time ash puffs out. “Okay!” He coughs a bit more. “Drawing it out does not help, ow. Yeah, holy water and crosses are a good bet. Ow.”

“Spencer.” Lassiter pulls out his cuffs.

“... Right. Yeah.” Shawn holds his hands out. 

But as soon as Lassiter moves to cuff him, Shawn sucks in a sharp breath and his hands fly to his head. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s in a small room, but it’s not a prison cell- he’s watching himself lay on the bed, hands pressed over his ears, gritting his teeth. He can see a sign out the window, his vision zooming in and highlighting it- a mental facility. The image shifts with a small burst of light and a ‘swoosh’ sound, and he sees a brief flash of himself biting down on the neck of another patient. Light, ‘swoosh’, he’s in a real prison cell because of the attack, he’s pressing his hands over his ears again and a guard is making so much noise jangling keys and whistling and he walks past and Shawn gets up and grabs the man by the shirt and looks him in the eye and tells him to Let Him Out.

Shawn blinks it away, gasping a little, but it’s not over and he’s pulled back into shaky ‘camera angles’ and film grain and it’s familiar but it’s usually not this intense!

He’s in the mental facility and he’s begging someone to listen. “I mean it, I’m telling you, this guy did not commit suicide! He was pushed, he knew too much, I can sense it!”

“Mr. Spencer, we know you had a long career with the SBPD as psychic, however-”

“Would you listen to me?” Something about his voice isn’t right- but the nurse shuts her mouth and listens while he shakes a newspaper at her and tells her to call Lassie. How’d he get a newspaper? They just give that to patients? 

Gus is visiting. “You don’t look good, Shawn.”

He doesn’t, but he does. He looks like a really well-preserved dead body with hair gel that has the hold of the god. “Yeah, I uh– I’m kind of losing my mind in here, man. Visions are getting a little crazy. I did kinda get warned it’d happen but… it’s a hell of a lot worse than I thought it’d be.”

“Can I help?”

“Do you feel like investigating murders without me?”

“... Not really.”

“Yeah.”

“Spencer, don’t resist.” Lassie is trying to pry his hands down, but Shawn’s arms are locked, and not even slightly budging. He wants to say something snarky about it, but he’s pulled away again.

The ‘camera’ of his memory zooms in much too close and shakes all around as it focuses in on a face– Shawn knows that face. He can’t connect how, but he does. The man is scowling at him. “Count yourself lucky, buddy. You know what happened to that girl? She went nuts- visions every hour of the day, until one day she got one just after sunrise and ran out the door in a fit. Poof.”

That one feels different, that one feels familiar, that one is-

“I remember something!” Shawn gasps out. He brings his hands down and looks at his right one- there’s two new scars, faint but there, one on his thumb and one on his palm. He sees a flash of a crystal slicing his thumb and then one of the same crystal being jabbed into his palm. His stomach twists– it’s been doing that since he woke up, really, but there’s a new reason now. “Wait, Lassie, I just– I need to talk to Gus for a second first. In private.”

“... Fine. One minute.”

Shawn nods, and then grabs Gus by the arm and pulls him into the bathroom and shuts the door. When he lets go Gus holds his arm with a whimper.

“I didn’t pull that hard, man.”

“Yes, you did!”

“I was being careful!”

“I think I’ve got frostbite now, and a bruise!”

A cold hand clapped over his mouth, his own hand stuck- he thinks his hand and his wrist have frostbite.

“Shawn?” Gus is shaking his shoulder when Shawn blinks out of the memory. 

“Dude.” Shawn lowers his voice. “The vampires were saying I’m actually psychic. For real.”

“Uh, Shawn, I–”

“And then just now, I had– I don’t know, when Lassie went to cuff me I saw something, man!”

“Shawn.”

“I know it seems super impossible that I got turned into a vampire and turned out to be a real actual psychic all at once but–”

“Shawn. I know.”

“Wh– what do you mean, you know?”

“Dude, when we got to that mansion we saw ghosts.”

“Ghosts? Like… like actual, ghosts?”

“Mary Lightly told us we were bad at rescuing! Your grandma helped me carry you outta the basement, Shabby let us know when we were going the wrong way!”

“Shabby? The sea lion?”

“The spirit of everyone who’s murder we’ve ever solved, Shawn. I saw the McCallum kid punch a vampire in the face!”

“Holy– but, wait, I–I remember…” Shawn closes his eyes, sees flashes of the inside of Lassie’s car, sees old wrinkled hands half-transparent holding his. “No way. But then why aren’t they–”

“Mary said it was just temporary because you being undead threw off the balance of the universe or something.”

“... So I actually have been psychic all this time? For–for my entire life? And I just didn’t notice until I got killed?”

“Don’t– don’t say you got killed.” Shawn can hear Gus’s heart rate speed up, and when the blood leaves Gus’s face almost sees it down to the veins. It makes him a little dizzy, and a lot hungry. He swallows.

“So those were probably real, then. … Well that’s bad news.”

“What is?”

“Well, if I’m having actual visions, then that means turning myself over either puts me on a path to going full-on Evil Lonely Vampire Monster–”

Gus takes a step back.

“-- or to losing my mind stuck up in some mental facility plagued with visions. Which would probably also end in me losing my humanity and becoming a horrible murder monster.”

“I’m gonna be sick again.”

“Yeah… I guess this means I have to convince Lassie to not arrest me now. … You think I’d have a better chance of that if I figure out how to hide the eyes and stuff? Maybe convince him I’m just suddenly human again?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Man… the one time I actually agree with him that I should be locked up.”

[nellysartchive]

Hii! This blog is a portfollio/archive for @oleyceon's art. Here, I want to try sharing EVERY sort of art I've done as well as their creation dates if I can. Typically older stuff and smaller art will be shared here, but any art I post to my main will be reblogged here I may fuck around a bit with this blog, but I'll still focus on simply archiving my art for the sake of it. I don't really care about reach since thats what posting on my main is for, so the tags will mostly just be my system

Tagging system:

#art - Mainly used to filter out anything off topic I might post here artwork - Finished pieces of art #sketches - Small drawings done for fun that have a lot of messy lines #doodles - Sketches with cleaner lines and/or more effort put into them. However, theyre still messy compared to acutal pieces #edit - Anything that I've like.. edited that is still consider art in a way (may contain a bunch of gacha lmaoo) #animations - Anything that moves #animation meme - Animations set to music or other audio, most likely uploaded to my youtube #3d - Anything I've made in a 3d program like blender #model - A 3d model I've sculpted myself #render - An image composed with said 3d software (will probably most likely be splatoon renders lol) #comms - Art commissioned by others that I've made for them #artfight - Any artfight related media I've made, usually attacks #shitpost - Stupid shit I do -There may be some extra miscellaneous tags on posts. If it becomes prevelant enough, I'll add the tag to this list

These tags were set in place for people to filter through my art if they wanted to. It's mainly for people who want to commission me and take a look at my work. For example, they can use #artwork to see all my serious pieces and sift past the shitposts

Speaking of commissions, if you like my art and want to commission me, please check out nellycomms.carrd.co!! (great advertisment i know) Currently, they're closed because I want to figure shit out and set it up properly, but I'd appreciate if you'd keep an eye on me for when I do open them ^^'

Extra links

Main - @oleyceon Carrd Commission Carrd Twitter Youtube

Okay that's all please enjoy my shit :D

[justactgaussian]

I have these pens I really, really like.

For some (to me) unfathomable reason, they have made a limited edition Naruto themed set:

I am considering using them to take notes in meetings at my very serious and professional office job. But I already own functionally identical pens, so I find it hard to justify buying these just to confuse my colleagues. Especially since I've never actually watched Naruto (and have no desire to do so).

My friends would like help convincing me to do it anyway, so:

Since I can't help myself, my propaganda for the pens in general is under the cut.

+ They're erasable, in my experience more so than pencils. Just wait for the ink to dry a little first (~5 seconds is usually fine)

They're called Frixion Clicker, made by Pilot

+ No need for a separate eraser, they have a non-eroding rubber tip for that. It's precise enough to erase single letters in the middle of a word. Do make sure to keep it clean from graphite and other inks, so that doesn't smudge the paper

+ You can buy refills for them

+ The ink dries fast. I never get smudges on my hands

+ They come in 13 different colours and three line thicknesses

+ If you don't like clicky ball point pens, there's also capped pens, fine liners, markers and highlighters with the same type of erasable ink. I use the last two for drawing battle maps during DnD sessions

+ If you like clicky pens, they're great! Satisfying, nice and sharp sound, if a little loud. 8/10

+ I once managed to convince 5 people to buy them with just a single very short demonstration. They all still use them

+ I like the grip. They were the main writing utensil me and my study group used in university, and none of us had problems using them for hours at a time. There's also a fancy metal version for the same type refills if you prefer that

- They are advertised as being erased by friction, which is sort of true. The friction is just a way to generate heat, which turns the ink colourless. Don't put a hot plate on the paper

- Supposedly, the ink can also regain its colour if exposed to something cold enough (under -12°C). I have never tried this

+ You can use the heat thing to your advantage. The hot plate method is good for erasing a lot at once (I used it to clean my textbooks before reselling them)

- Erasing in the same spot several times can discolour the paper some. I still find it cleaner than using a pencil in the same manner

- Erasable pens should not be used for signatures, hand written exams or other official documents

[ajathings]

Birth of a Voyer // Aja, 2013.

I remember my fingers shaking, and my body shivering, as they guided me to the door. Taylor led me, and Jack followed me; a train to make sure I was protected from men unaccustomed to the word “no.” The fact that there had to be a train at all gave me pause. But the rest of the idea excited me. 

I was curious as to how Taylor spent his time on certain weekends. We shared the same the same evening class, which ended promptly at 6 PM. Some weekends, he’d walk with me back to the dorm since we lived across the hall from one another. On other weekends, Jack would meet with him after class and whisk him away. They were cute together, but they weren’t very serious. Labels weigh people down…or so they would say.

I didn’t ask myself where they were going until a couple of months after I bumped into Taylor at 3 a.m. in the dorm hallway. I asked him how his night was and his answer was more than a little enthusiastic. But he wouldn’t say where he went, and I didn’t ask. But eventually when the question came up…his answer intrigued me. 

After promising me not to judge him, Taylor admitted that he and Jack had been frequenting a free play club further into town. I always thought I was wild…but I didn’t know the place existed until he mentioned it. I was curious…so I asked to tag along next time they went. Just to watch.

Taylor set the date with Jack and we all took an Uber into town where they led me to a little hidden door on the side of a brick building. The gentleman at the counter waved the usual ID check for Taylor and Jack–two regulars. But I was new and young-looking, so he carded me. But we all got in free, as all “couples” do.

Taylor held my hand tightly as he led us through the lobby. The place smelled like a heavy chemical cleaner, lemon-scented, and it was hard to see anything. But I could see people standing about, some waiting, some standing next to one another. But all eyes eventually gravitated toward me–one of only maybe two women in the building at the moment, escorted by two handsome men. Their gazes followed us…and I didn’t need an explanation why.

But I was like them. I only came to watch.

Taylor and Jack sat me on a couch in the corner, putting my back against the wall. The two of them sat next to me, making sure I felt comfortable and protected. Just the act of sitting together drew a crowd, of men who found other seats or places to stand at a “respectable” distance. Anything to give the lady in the space some room.

Once I assured them I was fine, I watched them turn their attention to each other. Taylor was acutely familiar with Jack’s body by then, his hand brushed the tent in his pants like he knew it fondly, intimately. The sight alone caused a couple of zippers in the room to drop. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear the sound of palms gripping skin. For those watching, the anticipation was enough.

I planted my back firmly against the wall, drawing my knees to my chest while watching my friends frisk one another. More zippers fell, more hands tightly gripping their own…or their neighbors’. Jack and Taylor put on a good show for them…for me. I watched Taylor suck Jack until he was slick, and I watched Jack dive deep into Taylor, pinning his head against the couch cushions. It was exhilarating to see this different side of my friend.

But I was only there to watch.

The club closed at three, and the two of them fucked each other in front of a crowd of people, sometimes even welcoming a few others to participate. But no matter how intense things got, they respected me. No one laid a hand on me. And I left feeling a little left out.

So I asked Taylor if I could go again. And I prepared for the evening. There was a red dress I was saving for a date with an ex, and a masquerade mask I kept from forever ago–probably a high school dance. Instead of the casual ponytail, I made sure my hair flowed freely below my shoulders. I put on my mom’s perfume and my favorite pair of heels. When Taylor saw me exit my dorm, he knew immediately that I wasn’t going merely to watch. 

Taylor and Jack went over my ground rules, my boundaries, and my concerns, and when they guided me to and through the door, they stood a little closer. Even in the failing light of the club, my dress sparkled a bit, catching the eye of the patrons. I was led to the same corner, where Taylor whispered to me: “Don’t feel pressured to do anything, okay?”

I pressed my back against the same wall while Taylor and Jack started. I watched their hands travel along each other again, I saw their passionate kiss. I could feel the eyes in the room, darting between the two of them, and then to me. I could feel their curiosity like heat on my skin: “Will she? Won’t she?”

I was nervous, yes. I could have sat with my back against that wall all night. But when Jack reached for the zipper of Taylor’s slacks…my hand beat him to it. I slid closer to the couple and I pulled Taylor from his slacks for Jack to suck on. When Taylor moaned my ear was close enough to savor it. His instinct was to press his lips to my neck, but he stopped short.

I gave him my consent before he could ask for it. I pulled him by his collar the rest of the minuscule distance between us, and while I basked in the heat of his lips on my neck, I unbuttoned his shirt. 

All eyes were on us.

Jack came up for air, and I took it upon myself to relieve him. My lips found Taylor’s cock, and his praise came to me in the sound of shiver-filled moans. Jack moved to my other side, next to the corner I had abandoned. His fingers brushed the outside of my thigh but made no crass or forceful movements. In a simple, gentle gesture, he asked for my parted knees, and I granted his request.

I pulled myself away from Taylor to give Jack the space he needed. His hands smoothed themselves up and between my thighs, to the dampened lace on display for a group of people I couldn’t clearly see. Taylor’s hands busied themselves with cupping of my right breast, and my hand responded in kind by gently stroking him. In fact, I found it prudent to pull Jack free and stroke him at the same time. 

I wish I could have been on the outside looking in at that moment. Be between them, them touching me, me touching them… It was the hottest moment of my life up to that point.

Taylor and Jack shared a glance a shifted gears. Jack unzipped my dress and freed my breasts, and while his satin-like lips caught my nipple between them, Taylor sank to his knees and pressed his tongue to my sex.

“Yes…” I heard myself say. The crowd murmured in approval around me. My chest rose and fell with each breath while my friends worked diligently together to make me feel like the most desired woman in town. 

I tasted myself on Taylor’s lips when he came up to kiss me. Jack tasted me on Taylor’s lips when they kissed each other. Jack looked at me with an impish smirk that I couldn’t quite describe at the time–the sharp turn of his lips was more potent praise than Taylor’s moan moments earlier.

“Keep going?” In a whisper, Taylor checked in with me.

I nod. Jack helped me out of my heels and stood me to my feet, giving Taylor free rein on the quiet couch in the corner. The metallic belt buckle struck the tiled floor, taking his slacks with them, and I caught a glimpse of him seated back down, legs eagled spread, his member twitching while his eyes drank me in. Jack removed nothing from me but my lace underwear, that he kept on his person. At each moment, they both worked together to meet my needs and respect my boundaries and that only made me like the moment between them more. 

Jack spun me around to face the crowd hidden in the black of the room.  I sat softly in Taylor’s lap, propping my legs over his. Jack guided Taylor inside me and my moan filled the room. I rose and lowered myself until I found a steady rhythm. What little I saw of the room disappeared behind the dark of my eyelids and I could only hear the sound of my skin against his, his grunts, my moans, the the assorted moans of the crowd engaged in their self-play. Eventually, to my right, I heard Jack furiously pumping, muttering beneath his breath, egging us on. My eyes opened long enough to beckon him closer, and when he was near enough, my hand found the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him upward and inviting him to stand over the two of us.

In a moment, I allowed him to break one of the rules I set earlier: don’t ruin the dress. Fuck the dress. I wanted Taylor in me, and Jack over me.  So he stood positioned himself over me, close enough for him to continue stroking himself over my bare chest, and just out of the way for the crowd to watch. 

When Taylor began to cry out in climax, Jack followed. And I’ll be damned if I wasn’t cumming with them. I felt Jack’s warm seed on my collar, dripping down the center of my chest, and my sex squeezed Taylor’s from his shaft, milking him for all he could give me. I shivered. I smiled. And I laughed.

And the crowd watching gave us applause. One of them was kind enough to offer me a towel and show us the way to the bathroom where the three of us freshened up in private.

“Well? How was it?” Taylor asked me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That was fantastic.” 

We left together, back to the dorms, where they took me to my room and assured me that I was welcome to come back at any time. 

My junior year at Brown was memorable because of Taylor and Jack, who helped me navigate something about myself that I didn’t know. Our arrangement was fruitful, fun, and long-lasting, ending only when I began a relationship at the beginning of senior year. I stopped going to the club, but the three of us remained good friends, even after school, after we all went our separate ways. We still visit each other from time to time. In fact, they are both visiting family here in New York for Christmas, so we’re finding time to meet up in for dinner.

I’m newly single. And I know a place far better than the one in Rhode Island. But…it’s up to them.

[maddiwrites]

Breathe With Me

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.

Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll. 

Word Count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!! 

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

Masterlist

It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.

Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?

One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas. 

The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought. 

You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.

Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner. 

You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.

John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.

Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first. 

To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning. 

A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead. 

Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.

Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences. 

When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time. 

As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”

“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.

You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?

“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”

When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”

“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags. 

“You have your phone?”

You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid. 

Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement. 

As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes. 

“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”

“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.

“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it. 

“Dude!” 

“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”

The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of. 

Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”

Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”

“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.

Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different. 

“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump. 

“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him. 

“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him. 

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.

Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified. 

Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards. 

“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.

“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”

“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”

The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating. 

“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting. 

“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”

Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”

JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”

“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”

“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one. 

Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”

JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster. 

Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”

You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach. 

It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night. 

A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.

About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back? 

But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his. 

“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”

“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”

Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive. 

You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.

“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally. 

“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises. 

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then...”

“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper. 

“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”

You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”

“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope. 

Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”

“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.

“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip. 

“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to. 

“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”

JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you. 

“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.

“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.

John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.

“Where do you think?” JJ says.

When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”

“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”

“You can’t,” Kie says.

“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”

“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”

JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.

“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.

“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.

“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.

Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second. 

JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”

[parker-razor]

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!! 

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.  

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don’t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 25

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

25.

After their middle of the night conversation and subsequent make-up sex, Nina and Angel got a few hours of sleep.

The sound of the birds in the tree outside, and a hard knocking on the front door, woke Nina up. Turning her head, she saw that Angel was still sound asleep, with Bug nuzzled up in the crook of his neck. Finding the sight too adorable to disturb, Nina quietly crawled out of bed, and put on her sleeping shorts, and one of Angel’s shirts. Putting a bit more weight on her pained leg than she’d been able to a few days earlier, she made her way to the front door, and looked out the peep hole; before opening.

“Good morning”, EZ said; holding up two paper cups of coffee. “He’s still sleeping”, Nina said, and moved so he could enter. “In the bed?”, EZ asked disbelievingly. “He told you…”, she muttered. “He’s my brother. He told me you guys weren’t doing so good… But, you’re better now?”. “We’re working on it”, Nina shrugged. “I’ll go get him, so you can give him that”. She nodded towards the coffee. “No, this is for you”. EZ held out a cup for her, and she took it confusedly.

She limped over to sit on the couch, and lit one of the cigarettes from Angel’s pack. Bug slipped out through the crack of the bedroom door, and when he saw EZ, he hissed. “What the hell is that?”, the prospect asked. “Bug… Her cat”, Angel grunted, as he came out after the cat; rubbing his eyes. He’d taken time to put on sweatpants and a beater. “Our cat”, Nina reiterated. “It looks… sick”, EZ said, giving Bug’s one and a half ear and skinny body a hesitant look. Angel walked over, and gave the cat a quick scratch behind the ears. “He’s a fighter”, he said, and went over to sit down next to Nina.

EZ sat down on the recliner, and looked down at his own coffee. “I would have gotten you one, but I didn’t know if you’d already left”, he muttered at Angel. “It’s good bro”, Angel said, and nabbed Nina’s cigarette. The prospect gave Nina a half smile. “It was kind of a peace-offering. You’ve been staying away from the clubhouse”. “I’m not mad at you”, Nina said. “I’m just… I don’t know if I’m ready to face Bishop and Taza”. “Taza hasn’t been around either”, Angel said. “You guys didn’t… He’s ok, right?”, Nina asked worriedly. She was angry, but she didn’t want Taza hurt. “We haven’t done anything to him… But we have a vote later today”, Angel said. “We need to decide whether he and Bish’ are keeping their posts”. “Why?”, Nina guffawed. “Because they went behind the club’s back; pulling that shit with you and Palo”, Angel said. “Bishop has stepped down temporarily, until we decide what to do. He’s been around, but Tranq’s taken the head of the table for now… He ain’t president material, though”. “And Taza?”, Nina said. “If we vote Bish’ back in, I’m guessing he’s gonna want him back as VP… If we let Taza come back at all”, Angel said.

EZ took a sip of his coffee, and leaned forwards; giving his brother a hesitant look. “Where do you stand on all that?”. Angel took a deep draw from the cigarette, and blew out the smoke while shaking his head. “I’m not sure, man…”, he admitted. “As prez’ and VP, I didn’t ever have a problem with them before. But they lied to the club… And this shit was personal to me. They put Nina in danger”. “You don’t have a problem with Taza being…”, EZ said, trailing off. “It’s called gay… homosexual… He likes men. You can say it”, Nina scolded him. “Yeah, I can say it…!”, EZ exclaimed. “It’s just one of those rules I’ve had trouble dealing with. I follow the club on a lot of things; but that…”. Nina gave him slight smile; happy that he felt like she did. “I don’t have a problem with that”, Angel shrugged. “No one should”.

Taking sip from the cup, Nina then traded Angel the coffee for the cigarette. She took a deep drag, before stubbing it out. “Well, it looks like you have stuff to do today”, she said. “I guess me and Bug will just hang out here”. The cat came over to brush against her good leg. He’d been good with leaving the pained one alone. “Hank wants you at the clubhouse…”, EZ muttered, giving her a hesitant look. “He sent me to get you… We didn’t know if you and Angel were talking”. Nina sighed. “I don’t know… EZ, all that shit that went down…”. “That’s why he wants you there”, EZ said. “He wants the club to hear your side, before they take the vote”.

Looking up to meet Angel’s eyes, Nina found nothing but warmth and support in them. “I’m not gonna make you do anything. It’s up to you, ma’”. She took the cup from him, and emptied it; before getting to her feet. “I’m gonna need more coffee…”, she grunted, and limped in to the bedroom to get dressed.

---

The scrapyard seemed like a completely different place to the last time Nina had been there. There was tension in the air, as EZ and Angel – with Nina behind him – rode up to the clubhouse. Chucky gave her slight wave from the front office, when they passed it.

Coco and Gilly came down from the porch to greet them as they arrived, and Nina gave both of them a warm hug. “Are you ok?”, she asked. “I know there was at least some fighting the other day…”. “We’re good, niña”, Coco said. “How’s the leg?”. “Much better”, Nina said. Letting Angel put his arm around her waist, they all walked up to the porch, and into the clubhouse together.

Inside, the rest of the charter – except for Taza – were spread throughout the room. Bishop sat alone by a table in the corner; and gave her short look. He almost looked embarrassed. Hank walked straight up to Nina, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for coming”, he said warmly. “We need your take on all this”. “I don’t know what you want me to say… I’m not happy about what happened”, Nina said. “We just need you to be honest”, Riz said, having come over to join them. “Shouldn’t come as a problem…”, Creeper muttered sarcastically, and stubbed out his cigarette. Nina frowned confusedly in his direction. “Where are we doing this?”, Angel asked. “Templo…”, Hank said. “And we should get to it. We got Reaper incoming soon”. Nina swallowed thickly. Being in the room with Bishop was hard enough, but having to face Filip was something she hadn’t been prepared for. “It’ll be ok, cuervo”, Angel said below his breath. The nickname struck her as odd at the moment, but Nina decided against challenging him on it; and simply let him lead her into templo. EZ stayed behind in the bar area, looking worried, and prepared for anything to happen.

Letting his hand brush against his usual chair, Hank went to sit at the head of the table. He looked very uncomfortable with his current station. “Please…”, he said, and gestured for Nina to take the seat at the other end of the table. The rest of the Mayans took to their own seats; with Bishop taking the one furthest from his regular seat. This meant he sat just around the corner of the table from Nina, making her unable to ignore him. Angel shot her a comforting smile, before looking to his temporary president.

Seemingly waiting for someone else to begin, Hank finally realized that was his job; and cleared his throat. “I guess… we should get started”, he said. “Nina; thanks for coming. I asked the prospect to bring you, because we have an important vote coming up; but we need to know what to base our decision on”. Riz let Hank out of his misery, by taking over. “We already heard from Bishop. He let us know that you weren’t aware of his and Taza’s decision to go behind our backs…” “Yeah, they behind our backs, but so did she…”, Creeper interrupted. He looked hard at Nina. “You might not have known the real plan, but you went against the club’s decision; and snuck off to do your own shit”. “Sure, but she’s not a member of the club”, Gilly said. “Pretty damn close”, Creeper said.

Angel looked at Creeper; the promise of a serious beating almost written in neon over his head. “What are you trying to say? You wanna punish her?”, he said. “I didn’t bring her here to get…”. “I’m just telling it like it is”, Creeper said. “Nina tricked me in to letting her sneak away”. Bishop chuckled slightly. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so easily tricked…”, he said. “Careful, Bishop”, Riz said. “You’re the one on trial here, and Creep isn’t wrong”. Nina threw up her hands, and sighed. “Why don’t you just get to it then. Punch me around, and degrade me to toilet-cleaner. I’ve been through much worse lately!”. “Everyone calm down!”, Hank said. “Nina, you did go against the club. You broke our trust…”. “At the time, you didn’t even know Bishop was in on it; so, on top of that, you went against the president’s direct orders”, Riz said. Creeper nodded in agreement.

“Ok”, Nina said. Every face at the table turned to her. “What? You wanted me to apologize? I was trying to save your asses”. “Technically, she did”, Coco said. He grabbed a cigarette from his back and lit it; before sliding both the pack and his lighter down the table to Nina. She took one of the smokes, and lit it; sending Coco a slight smile. “If we’d gone to war with VM… fuck”, Coco said, visibly shuddering. “We voted for war”, Creeper said. “You didn’t seem like that’s what you wanted at the time…”, Gilly said. “But that’s how this shit works!”, Creeper said. “This club is a democracy…”. “El Padrino was in on it”, Angel said. “At the end of the day…”. “He doesn’t call the shots here”, Riz said.

Nina took a deep drag of her cigarette. “Riz… I’m sorry you’re angry that I went against the club by going with Taza. I’m not gonna apologize for actually doing it, though. If the plan he told me about had worked out, it would have been the best move for your club. That’s a fact you can’t deny”. Unable to come up with a reply, Riz shrugged in something resembling agreement. “It didn’t work out, though”, Creeper said. “That’s not my fault”, Nina retorted. “And honestly, I think your butthurt mostly has to do with the fact that another woman managed to trick you”. “Nina…”, Angel said warily. Creeper’s expression grew saddened. “If you’re talking about Camille, you’re right. She got to me. But that was just a fling with a hangaround…”. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head defeatedly. “You’re family… You were supposed to have our back… My back. Not lie to me”. Nina swallowed thickly, feeling choked and ashamed. “You’re right… I’m sorry for lying. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t trust me anymore; but I understand it”. She sighed deeply. “I’ll take whatever punishment the club decides to give me”. “There won’t be no punishment”, Angel said. “If there is, I’m out of here”. “Angel!”, Nina exclaimed. “Nah, mami… They ain’t touching you”.

“We’re not going to punish Nina”, Hank declared. “She’s right. Taza’s fake plan would have been a good move; and she did what she did to help the club. She wasn’t a part of the official vote, and she’s not a patch. She doesn’t owe us to follow orders; and she didn’t owe us to try to help the way she did”. He looked deep into Nina’s eyes. “You risked your life for the MC… Thank you”. Angel relaxed in his seat. “I get what you’re saying, but…”, Creeper began. Hank slammed his fist into the table. He looked angrier than Nina had ever seen him; but then again, digging through her memories, she’d never seen him angry. “I’ll be happy to take it to a vote; but even with Angel stepping out for being biased, it still looks like punishment will be off the table”. Creeper raised his hands in defeat, and leaned back in his seat.

“If no one else has anything to say, then let’s get to why we’re here”, Hank said. “Nina, what’s your view on what happened the other day?”. Nina took another drag of her cigarette. “Taza called. He said he had a way of avoiding a full-blown war, and asked me to meet him; so we could go see Palo”. “Did you know he’d told Palo that he would hand you over?”, Riz asked. “Yes…”, Nina said, meeting Angel’s eyes for a short second. Anger ghosted his face, but he held his tongue. “He told me we’d be able to reason with Palo, and I thought so too. He seemed about to go for it as well, but… He said he wanted his pound of flesh; and that’s when they brought in Angel”. “Which wouldn’t have happened if…”, Bishop began. “Fuck you, Bish’!”, Angel said. “You ain’t president right now. I’d be happy to show you around the cage…”. “Angel!”, Hank said. “Nina, please…”. “Palo wanted me to shoot Angel, but Bishop and the rest of them arrived in time to…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence; feeling tears welling up. “Taza killed Palo, and that was it”, she finished, and wiped her eyes. “And how do you feel about being lied to about what the real plan was?”, Riz asked. “Come on, Riz…”, Coco said. “I’m not trying to stir shit up, man”, Riz said. “We asked her to come here, to tell us about her experience with all this”. “Yeah, but this ain’t Oprah”, Gilly said. “It’s fine… I’ll answer”, Nina said. “I feel like shit. My decision to go with Taza on this, was based on me not wanting anyone else to get hurt… But Sala was shot, and Palo’s neck was slit right in front of me”. She stubbed out her cigarette. “I might be safe from VM and Palo, but it came at the cost of even more lives… Daniella; Camille; Sala; Palo… Those were all because of me, and what I did to Gael in that alley two months ago…”.

Self-hatred washed over her, and she got her feet. “I don’t think you should punish Bishop, or kick Taza out of the MC… All of this is my fault. I’m sorry I came here and messed up your club”. Ignoring the pain in her leg, Nina stormed out of templo. EZ and Chucky – who’d come in to the clubhouse, while she was in templo – gave her confused looks, as she ran out of the clubhouse, and slammed the door shut behind her. She sat down on the stairs, and buried her face in her hands, letting her tears fall.

The door opened and closed behind her, and she looked up; confused to see Creeper sit down next to her. “This isn’t your fault, Nina”, he said. “I thought you were pissed at me…”. “I was… I am. But not because I think you’re to blame for all this. You worried me… us. Putting yourself in danger like that…”. He sighed deeply. “The thing about you going behind our backs… You’re a part of the family. I expected you to act like a patch; but that’s not fair. We won’t let you wear a cut, so I can’t assume that you’ll act like you are”. “I’m sorry for tricking you”, Nina croaked. “I should never have come here… You lost your president, your VP… You almost went in to full on war!”. Creeper put his arm around Nina’s shoulders. “We haven’t decided on Bishop and Taza yet”, he said. “And war with the Vatos has been under way for a long time. Even before you got here”.

Nina sighed, and looked intently at Creeper. “Don’t punish Bishop and Taza. Don’t take away their flashes”, she said. “They had to make a quick decision; and they wouldn’t have done it if they didn’t think they were doing what was best for the MC… Just because they’re leaders, doesn’t mean they’re infallible. Give them a chance”. Creeper narrowed his eyes at her. “I know Angel said you were smart; but that was almost sage wisdom”, he smirked. “Where do you get it from?”. Nina let out a soft laugh, and wiped her eyes. “I knew a guy who had to make a lot of hard decisions”, she said. “Some of them were really shitty, but they all came from a place of love for his club and his family”. Creeper pressed a kiss to her forehead; then got to his feet, and helped Nina up to stand. “I’ll tell them what you said”, he smiled. “But I won’t use words like infallible. I don’t think half of them know what that means”. There was the sound of glass shattering from inside the clubhouse. “You should get back inside. Gilly’s physically holding Angel down in there”.

He supported her weight back to the door, and opened it for her. Chucky was sweeping up a broken beer bottle, and Angel was struggling to get free from Gilly’s grasp on his arms. Nina walked over to him, and as Gilly let him free, Angel wrapped her into his arms. “Are you ok?”, he whispered into her ear. “Yeah… I’m ok”, Nina said. “He…?”. “We’re good. Really”. She got on her toes, and caught his lips in a warm kiss. “Go vote… Make good decisions”. Angel nodded, and stole another kiss from her, before following his brothers back in to templo.

Nina limped over to sit down by a table, and blew out a deep breath. After four days of hiding at the house, eating microwave dinners, and cursing her own inability to cook; she was overjoyed when EZ came over, and placed a Tupperware box in front of her. “Gaby?”, she asked with bated breath. “Uh huh”, EZ smiled. “I’m serious, Ezekiel. I will marry her myself, if you don’t!”. The prospect let out a warm laugh, and sat down next to her, producing two forks. Chucky came over with two cold cokes for them, before going over to count the chairs in the room, for some reason. “Chuck? What are you doing?”, EZ asked. “I need to make sure we have enough seats for the wedding”. Nina laughed, feeling herself brighten up slightly.

They were seated, eating straight out of the box, and trying to keep each other’s moods up, when the door opened, and Taza stepped inside; his cut hung over his arm. He nodded solemnly at them, and walked over to the ornate door of templo; seemingly taking a deep breath before stepping inside, and closing the door behind him again. “What do you think that means?”, Nina muttered. “I don’t know…”, EZ said. “Hopefully it’s good news”. He noticed Nina’s strained expression, and squeezed her shoulder. “Are you ok? I know you’re not happy about how things went down…”. Nina sighed. “You all keep telling me I’m family… But they forced me to be a part of something I was trying so hard to avoid. Is that how you treat kin?”. “If family doesn’t know what’s best for them, then maybe… yeah”, EZ said. “Palo wouldn’t have let you go. You’d be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Hurt feelings; you can get over shit like that. But death is kind of final”. “Maybe… But I wish they’d told me the truth”.

They sat in silence for a long moment. “Is you dad mad at me, for stealing his truck?”, Nina asked quietly. “You parked it by his shop. He was ok”, EZ replied. “Yeah, but…”. “Nina, you make Angel happy; and pap’ sees grandkids in his future”, EZ chuckled. “You can do no wrong in his eyes”. “I’m not pregnant!”. “Not for lack of my brother trying, I’m guessing”, EZ smirked. “We’re not having this conversation!”, Nina said. Ezekiel shrugged in surrender. “Just… If you do make me a tío, don’t let Angel name the baby”. “Why?”. “He named your cat Bug!”, EZ laughed. Nina punched his shoulder. “That was me…”, she pouted.

The door to templo opened, and Hank stepped out, giving them a warm smile. Bishop came out behind him, and they gave each other a warm and very masculine hug. “Thanks for taking the gavel when needed”, Bishop said. “Thanks for taking it back”, Hank smiled. “That chair is uncomfortable”. Nina couldn’t help but smile, and Bishop met her eyes; giving her a half smile in return.

The rest of the Mayans emerged from the room, with Taza coming out lastly; wearing his cut. Nina let out an audible, relieved gasp. Getting to her feet, Angel went over to support her. He let her lean against him, as she walked up to Bishop and Taza. “It looks like we have you to thank for keeping these flashes”, Bishop said. “I think we’ve got more than that to thank you for”, Taza smiled softly. Nina shook her head. “Just… trust your family with the truth in the future. It might be painful, but it’s the better way out”, she said. “Alright”, Bishop said. “Still; thank you…”. Nina grinned at him. “You’re fishing for a hug again, aren’t you…?”. “Yes he is”, Taza said.

Nina put her arms around the president, and hugged him tightly. He gave as good as he got, and turned to whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry, mija…”. “I forgive you”, she replied. Taza was next, and Nina gave him a short kiss on the cheek. “I forgive you too, Scarecrow”. Taza pulled back, and looked down at her. “I’m not that sharp on my Judy Garland, but I’m pretty sure the line is I’ll miss you the most… Are you going somewhere?”. “Nah”, Nina said, and looked around at the faces of her family. “There’s no place like home”.

There was a rumbling of bikes outside, and EZ looked out of the window. “SOA”, he said. Nina took Angel’s hand, and let herself be tucked into his side. “Better break out the Jameson”, she said. “Can’t Chibs drink anything else?”, Angel asked. Nina sighed. “It’s for me…”.

---

Happy, Tig and Rat came through the door, and made a beeline for Nina. It was a clusterhug, that ended with her having to waving her hands in the air, to be allowed to breathe. Once released from their grasp, Nina looked behind them with a confused expression. “Chibs?”, she said quietly. “Outside…”, Tig said. “Did you vote yet?”, Nina asked hesitantly. “What vote?”, Happy asked. “You think we’d take the chance to let Tiggy be president?”. Rat visibly shuddered, and Tig smacked the back of his head; making the younger biker let out a yelp. “We get why he did it”, Tig said. “We didn’t like it, but… He’s not the first SAMCRO president to make decisions behind the club’s back, to protect a family-member”. “That’s what he was doing. You know that”, Happy said. Nina sighed, and began moving towards the door. Rat grabbed her arm to halt her. “Rat, I’m sorry for tricking you, but…”, she began. “No… I get it”, he said. “I just wanted to say; don’t be too hard on him. He loves you”. Nina nodded, and went outside.

Filip was leaning against his bike, when she came down from the porch. “Hi…”, she said quietly. “Hello… I didn’t want to come inside, if you didn’t want me there”, Filip said. “It’s not my house”. “Yes, it is”, he smiled softly. Limping halfway over to him, Filip hurried over to grab Nina’s arm. “Is that leg not doing better?”, he asked. “Yeah. I’m just cutting down on the painkillers”, she said. “Good… That’s smart. But you shouldn’t overexert yourself”.

He led her over to lean against his bike. “How angry are you?”, he asked. “Very… You knew how I felt about the bloodshed… Too many people had died already”, Nina said. “But I understand why you did it. You were trying to protect me”. “I really was, luv’”, Filip sighed. “But it’s like you didn’t respect me enough to make me part of the plan”. “I respected you too much, Nina!”. Filip grabbed her hand, and held it tightly. “You’re too good for decisions like the ones we had to make that day… And what you said about Jax…”. “I shouldn’t have brought him up”, Nina said. “No, you were within your rights to”, Filip said. “But… I think he would have made the same decision, little sister. Anything to keep you safe”.

Sighing deeply, Nina pulled at Filip’s hand, to make him wrap his arms around her. She threw her own arms around his neck. “I love you, big brother…”, she croaked. “But don’t ever lie to me again, or I’ll stab you in the balls with a rusty screwdriver”. “That’s oddly specific”, Filip muttered. “I wanna make sure it’s extra painful”. “Fair enough”.

He kissed her temple, and together they made their way back to the clubhouse.

---

“That’s a long ass ride to take, just to come see me”, Nina said, as she sat on Angel’s lap, surrounded by her SAMCRO brothers. Apparently, the Mayan felt that they’d spent too much time apart in the last four days, and after she came back inside with Filip, he hadn’t left her side. “We never left”, Happy said. “We’ve been staying at Vicky’s… It’s quite comfortable there”, Filip smirked. “Venus good with that?”, Nina asked Tig. “We’ve been doing facetime”, Tig winked at her. “I don’t need any of Vicky’s girls, when I got a woman at home waiting for me”. “You thinking about putting a ring on that?”, Angel asked. “She wants to fully transition first”, Tig shrugged. “I told her, I don’t care, but it’s important to her”.

EZ came over with a tray of shots. “What’s this?”, Rat asked. “Mezcal”, EZ said, and shot a smirk at Nina. “In that case, I’m out”, she said. “Just plain old tequila, then?”, Creeper asked, and set down a full shot glass in front of her. Nina rolled her eyes, and picked up the glass; cheering with the bikers. “It is time for us to go, though”, Filip declared, once he’d finished his drink. “We have a business to run”. “Wouldn’t want the line in front of the shop get too long”, Angel smirked. “People need their ice-cream”. “We do milkshakes too”, Rat smiled brightly. The rest of the Sons laughed at their endearingly naïve brother, and got to their feet.

Saying goodbye was less melancholic this time around. Nina managed to avoid completely soaking Angel’s shirt, as she hid her face against his chest, after waving goodbye to her Charming brothers; when they drove off the lot. Chucky, on the other hand, had to take a few minutes to himself in the garage. Coco went after him, and they emerged moments later, with Chucky wiping his eyes, as Coco muttered encouraging words in his ear.

After they all went back inside, Bishop cleared his throat. “Yo. Listen up”, he barked. “It’s time to get back to business around here. We’ve got a few runs to prepare for, and the yard looks like shit”. “It’s a scrapyard, jefe”, Coco said. “It’s supposed to look that way”. “Let’s take the day off”, Taza said. “We can get back to it tomorrow”. Bishop grunted in agreement, and the Mayans all looked like excited frat boys. Creeper and Gilly got to work, calling in some hangarounds for an impromptu party.

Nina – tears dry, and peaceful at heart – got on her toes, and kissed Angel’s cheek. “You can stay… I’m not really in the mood for partying”, she muttered. Angel snaked an arm around her waist, and brushed his lips against his ear. “Nah… I’ll go with you. The only party I wanna go to, is in your panties”, he hummed. “You’re so eloquent”, Nina chuckled. “So elegant…”, Angel nodded, and squeezed her butt; before quietly leading her out the clubhouse.

---

“Ow!”. “Sorry, mami… Maybe try turning the other way”. “My hair is stuck in the handlebars…”. “There… You’re free”. “Someone might see!”. “No, we’re good… Fuck! Don’t stop moving like that”. “Ok, yeah… Wow… Angel, please…”. “Fuck, yes! Put your foot on the fender… That’s right. Take it!”. “I’m so close… Angel!”. “You gonna come?”. “Uh huh… Holy, shit… Harder!”. “Me too… You feel so good…”. “Yes!”. “Oh fuck… I’m coming…! Ahh… Shit, I love you…”. “Te amo, papi… Wow. That was…”. “Uh huh…! I can’t believe we pulled it off…”. “Yeah… Now we just gotta figure out how to get your bike out of the front door again”.

---

To be continued…

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

[alch3mic]

I...I saw the word matchup and came sprinting 😂🤚

I’m the worst at slapping info about myself down so please forgive me for my nonsense 🤧

Personality: Basically? I’m a legit hobbit. I’m such a homebody it’s not even funny. I’m quiet and introverted, with severe social anxiety and people often interpret my distain in for social interaction as me personally being mean to them and I’m like “no wait, I just have social skill level -50” I get SO flustered trying to talk to people that are outside family. Im also lazy....😞 there’s no hiding it. I’m told I’m quite creative and kind, but it feels a bit vain calling myself that 😅

Hobbies: Arts! Any art! Drawing, painting, writing, sculpting, baking, even crochet! I will literally create and create until my brain is exhausted. I’m an avid gamer 😞🤚 I could spend hours in other worlds just doing good for fictional characters. It feels good ya know? Even if they aren’t real 🥺 I also am constantly listening to music. My taste fluctuates constantly but it usually ranges from lofi/indie to edm/2000s rock. (Weird mix I know 😞)

Likes: SWEETS. I have the worst sweet tooth ever. It’s a serious problem. I love animals! I have many irl and I cherish every single one of them! I also love kids! They’re just precious! 😭 I’m the type of weirdo that waves at kids and makes faces at them but as soon as the parent turns around I’m: 🏃‍♀️💨

Dislikes: Don’t laugh, but cursing and inappropriate jokes 😅 it’s just not my style. I also don’t like loud angry people. Nothing switches my anxiety up to 100 like an angry person yelling at me. I also dislike when people say mean things 😩 like how can you SAY that about another person?! I also dislike it when people push me about my fears/phobias. For some reason people are obsessed with trying to see me ‘angry’ and nothing irks me more- 🙄🤚 (it’s literally one of my worst fears. I hate being angry In front of ppl) that or trying to press me about getting a s/o .

I’m not sure what extra stuff I could add so uh....I hope you have a nice day! ✨ and thank you for taking the time to do this for your followers! We all love your content so so much! Thank you for being you! 🌸✨

Sorry for bothering you!

Well there’s still plenty to say, but I do think PRINCE would make your day!

🤍 As a fellow anxious person, Prince understands having difficulty socializing! He’s.. poorly coped a lot over the years by shoving them down underneath his persona of a ‘perfect prince’, so they do still affect him a lot though he’s gotten better about not letting it show. You’ll receive a whole heck of lot of understand and support from him, and you’d be more than welcome to join him on his rather recent quirky little quest of self improvement if you’d like!

🤍 Creative minds capture his heart! Prince adores any kind of art in all it’s forms, usually gushing over everything his s/o creates and wanting to display it around the estate because he thinks it brightens up the space, just like you do! He'll also happily show his support too by suppling you with whatever your heart desires to create whether it be paints, canvases, yarns or clays. Hopefully you just don’t mind as he respectfully observes your creative process, he just finds it endlessly fascinating!

🤍 Prince’s style of humor is also much cleaner! Although he doesn’t mind the occasional inappropriate joke from someone, it’s just not his style to dish them out in any way. He enjoys more wholesome puns and clever wordplay over any kind of vulgar joke. A ‘perfect prince’ also doesn’t curse, so he’s taken up quite the cute vocabulary to replace those more vulgar words. The only time he’d ever curse is when you’re not around and when he’s particularly... frustrated. He’s the type to not let his anger show in front of his dearest.

🤍 He’s also quite fond of animals and children! Though he doesn’t keep any pets of his own, he’d be more than willing to open his home to furry creatures of all kinds at your request. Prince also finds it much easier to speak to kids than adults, so he has quite the soft spot for them. He lets out a bit of his goofier side in their presence, playing all kinds of games or telling them great tales about a brave prince and his beloved princess!

[harryspet]

little doe [4] peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x named oc, mj fluff, a/b/o dynamic, dd lg dynamic, broken english, oral sex (male recieving), angst 

A/N: I’ve been getting so much LOVE for this story and I appreciate it so much! I hope I can continue to please you guys with a few more chapters to this series.

In which chaos runs through the Parker household.  

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 2.8k

As MJ entered Peter’s apartment, she descended upon complete chaos. Something smelt like it was burning coming from the kitchen, she followed a trail of smoke to find a burning pot of soup that had turned black, “Peter!” She called but received no answer. MJ turned off the stove before walking into the living room. MJ had to watch her every step, there were random items strewn everywhere around the apartment, and she had to dust lucky charm marshmallow off the bottom of her shoes. 

The living room was the worst of them all, everything was  out of place, the couch was shredded in a few places, curtains off the rods, and everything torn off the shelves, “Doe?” MJ found the girl sitting in the corner, facing the wall, hands in her face, “Why are you in the corner?” 

Doe turned her head, her face in a pout, and MJ noticed the mess her hair was and also the fact that there were red and blue markings on her hands, “Bad girl! Stay here! Don’t move!” She mimicked Peter’s voice and MJ noted that the girl was only wearing one of his t-shirts. 

Peter’s words were echoing over and over again in Doe’s mind. She felt miserable. 

“Why on earth would he say that?” MJ wondered what the hell had happened in the last week that she hadn’t been there. Peter had called her a few hours ago and everything seemed to be fine. Doe’s hands began to form into a balled fist and she nodded over to the middle of the room. 

Peter’s most treasured prize, a lego version of the Millenium falcon, was now melted into the coffee table. She couldn’t even recognize it. MJ sighed, urging Doe to stand up. “Did not … mean it. Promise.”

“Of course you didn't. It’s okay,” MJ knew she couldn’t have intentionally done anything to hurt Peter, “Where is Peter?”

Doe shrugged and MJ reached to grab her hand, “Let’s find him.”

Doe pulled away from her quickly, “Peter is mad!” Doe couldn’t face him, not after what she did and how he reacted. The last week had been complete chaos. Her heat had been giving her serious mood swings and it didn’t help that Peter’s work had become stressful, “No, please.” 

“Doe-” Before MJ could protest, Doe fell down to her bottom and planted herself there. She crossed her arms over her chest as she planned to hide from Peter for the rest of her life.

“Peter is mad for me,” Doe tried to explain again. MJ mentally cursed, the entire situation completely baffling her. Where the hell was Peter?

MJ sighed, “I promise he’s not mad at you,” No reaction, “Fine, just stay here and I’ll go find him.”

MJ kicked over a few misplaced pillows as she made her way out of the living room. She called for Peter as she walked down the hallway before she heard some rumbling around from his office. She wasted no time in knocking as she barged inside. Much like the living room, it was utter chaos, “Everyone in this house has clearly lost their shit,” MJ stated, watching him pace the length of the room, computer in hand. He hadn’t even noticed her walk in, “Peter!”

Michelle ducked as a web aimed right for her head thanks to startling Peter. Peter finally noticed she wasn’t some enemy and stared with wide eyes, “MJ? You scared me!”

“I’ve been yelling in the apartment for ten minutes! Is your Peter tingle not working anymore?”

Peter frowned but went back to staring at his computer. MJ noted his serious bed head and the fact that his shirt was on backward. There seemed to be million open folders tagged with red letters that spelled CONFIDENTIAL and Peter’s secret arsenal of the inventions Stark made for him was open, not hidden anymore by a bookshelf. MJ approached him, snapping her fingers, “Hello, earth to Peter!” 

Peter flashed her an annoyed look, “What is it?”

“You told me to come over, remember?”

“Right,” Peter nodded, “I need you to watch Doe. I’m going … somewhere and I can’t think around her.”

“Is this about your lego toy?”

Peter scowled at her, anger welling up inside of him, “It’s not a lego toy! It’s an eight-thousand piece Millenium Falcon that Ned and I spent thirty hours putting together. Destroyed!” MJ rolled her eyes. 

“She wouldn’t do it for no reason. She just doesn’t know how to control her powers-”

“She knows exactly how to control them,” Peter interjected, “What she doesn't know is how to handle her emotions. She tried to make a drawing of my costume on the wall and, when I told her she couldn’t do that, she exploded. She destroyed the apartment and, just my luck, the fireplace was on. She barely lifted a finger when she summoned that fire.”

MJ took a breath, Peter’s words sinking in, “This doesn’t mean you can tell her to go stand in a corner when you’re angry at her. She didn’t know how much that thing meant to you.”

“I didn’t-” Peter shut his laptop, tossing it on his leather couch, and began to rub his temples as he winced at the thought, “I forgot that I had. I’m not angry with her, MJ, my mind is just all over the place. Fury is torturing me and I can’t afford to slip up or he’ll show up here and find out about Doe.”

MJ nodded, finally understanding what had been going on, “Then I’ll stay here with her while you’re gone. You can get Fury off of your back and Doe and I will stay under the radar,” Peter opened his mouth to thank her but MJ raised a finger, “But first, you’re going to say whatever magic words she wants to hear because, for some weird reason, she likes you a lot and cares what you think of her. And as much as I like sadness and pain, she is the purest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on and she is the only person that I don’t want to see sad and in pain.” 

MJ followed Peter as they went to search for Doe, who was hiding in the walk-in pantry. MJ leaned in the doorway and Peter crouched down where Doe had tucked herself. Peter brushed a piece of the girl’s bright hair behind her ears, “Peter is sorry for his behavior earlier,” MJ almost snorted as he referred to himself in the third person.

“Doe is sorry. Promise,” Her plan failed completely and it only took about twenty minutes as she wrapped her arms around Peter. He hugged her tightly and felt a lot of his anxiety melt away. Explaining to her that he had to leave for a few days would be difficult but he suspected MJ would make it easier. 

“Things are going to be great when I get back, I promise.”

“Hate to make this awkward but both of you look like you haven’t showered in days so maybe we should tackle that challenge first.”

+

Peter was exhausted when he finally returned back from his two weeks later. He had barely slept the entire time and his muscles were aching, not to mention all the bruises that were still healing. He came in close to dinner time to find that the house was still put together, actually, it was cleaner than usual which was odd. That wasn’t the weirdest part because, as he entered the kitchen, he saw that Doe was wearing shoes. 

“Peter!” Of course, Peter accepted her warm embrace but Peter noted her black combat boots, black leather jacket, and finally paired with, you guessed it, a black dress. 

MJ looked up from her slice of pizza to say, “I couldn’t get her into pants, sadly.”

Doe was still tightly wrapped around him as Peter responded, “I think you’ve done enough, thanks. I should’ve known you’d turn her into a mini version of you.”

“Peter, we go shopping!” Peter shot a confused and accusatory look at MJ. 

“You were cool with us using your credit card, right?” MJ took a calm bite of her pizza. 

“You took someone with uncontrolled elemental powers out into public? What if something had happened?”

“It was only for an hour or two … on a few days. She had some anxiety but she got over it quickly. She’s super chill when she’s with me. Plus, you’d be awkward as hell if you had to bra shop with her.”

“MJ, we discussed this-” Before Peter could berate her, MJ grabbed her backpack and her slice of pizza and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the pizza and the new clothes, Peter. Bye, kid!”

“Bye-bye, MJ! Good morning!” Doe still had yet to unwrap herself from Peter and, even as her babysitter left, she held Peter tight. 

Peter huffed as he heard the front door slammed. He looked down at Doe who was smiling wide, “Pi-zza for Peter? Make happy?”

Peter nodded and they ate pizza together before Peter collapsed onto his bed with Doe in his arms. 

+

Doe thought that since her heat had passed that she might crave his touch less but this was not at all true. The two weeks apart had her craving him and Peter didn’t seem to mind the extra comfort that she brought him after his long mission. 

She told him all about her adventures with MJ in the words that she knew and that he could understand. It was all a bit jumbled but Peter still seemed to nod and smile though she could see the worry some of the stories had caused him. 

She still liked kissing Peter. He never asked her too but she noticed the way he leaned in when they were looking at each other. He’d hold her head and push his tongue into her mouth, exploring her. 

She couldn’t stop thinking as she paced the hallway, just outside Peter’s office, where he was video conferencing inside. She wasn’t to go inside which she knew but she could hear his voice from the outside. Hear the nervousness and crave to ease any anxiety that he had. 

It was a total accident that a gust of air rushed past and the door cracked open a bit. She peeked inside to see Peter sitting behind his desk, his fingers tapping at his desk, as he stared at a hologram screen across from him. 

She could tell that, whoever was talking to him, a pale woman with brunette hair, “I talked to him, I’m pretty sure he has nothing to do with this situation and, if he did, he wouldn’t have ... “ Peter’s voice trailed off as he saw a totally, conspicuous person crawling into his office. 

Peter’s eyes met hers and his eyes became sharp as if to warn her without outward saying it. 

“Parker?” Peter’s head darted back up to look at Maria. 

“Yes, like I was saying …” Peter continued on the debriefing of his mission as he saw Doe crawl beneath his desk. 

She couldn’t hide the fact that sometimes she enjoyed frustrating Peter. As her hands ran up his legs and she felt him flinch, she giggled to herself. His hand slipped under the desk and he waved his hand as if to tell her to stop. She only took his hand, slipping two of his fingers into her mouth as she slowly sucked on them. It was what he did to his own fingers after stimulating her sensitive parts with his hands. 

Peter paused his speech for a second before, slipping his fingers away and wiping them onto his pants. He continued to talk to the woman as if nothing had happened. Doe positioned herself between his legs and set her head in his crotch, peeking up at him. Peter scowled down at her and she only blushed. 

She nuzzled him into him like a kitten to its owner. 

She thought much about what was between his legs and the fact that he never really insisted on her returning the pleasure that he brought her. She felt how it grew harder when she ground against him during her first heat and she felt it press against her bottoms in the mornings. He never let her touch it as he rushed to the bathroom in the morning to take care of it himself. 

Doe felt it now, growing harder just because of her proximity to it. Peter continued talking and shifted uncomfortably but that only made it more visible to her. Doe sat back on her knees and began to run her fingers over the outline it created in his shorts. 

“Well, we have other agents working this for now and - Peter? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine- ah!” Doe wrapped her fingers around the outline, slowly stroking up and down. It was fascinating to her and her original plan to bother him for attention quickly took a turn. She wondered if it worked the same way as her private parts did, “I-I’m just not feeling well, Ms. Hill.”

“I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day, Peter. Expect a call from Fury sometime soon,” Peter nodded quickly as he reached to end the call. 

Soon, the hologram disappeared but the problem at hand was even direr than the mission he was just sent on. 

Peter rolled back in his chair and Doe emerged from under the desk, “Stay away, you evil girl.”

Doe only crawled forward, giggling, “Take care for Peter, please?” She positioned herself between his legs again, sitting up on her knees as her hands reached for the member growing in his pants. It felt a bit softer now and Doe frowned but a few more touches from her, it was hard again. 

Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, “Do you even know … what that mouth of yours would do to me? What your hands would do?” He would kill her, he was sure of it, but at least he’d die happy. 

Peter thought for a moment before slipping down his pants and his boxers, letting his hard member spring free. Doe wasn’t sure what she was expecting but she didn’t expect he’d be hiding all of this inside of his pants. Peter took her hand and gently wrapped it around the base of his cock. 

“Touch it like this,” He instructed her, trying to hold in the sounds he desperately wanted to release. She moved her hand up and down slowly, twisting as he showed her how “You can use your hands or your mouth but both are better … much better. Open your mouth, Doe.”

Peter leaned forward, holding her head, as she opened her mouth. Peter stuck two of his fingers into her open mouth, “Good girl,” he praised her as he went deeper. He was surprised how deep he went before she even gagged and an evil part of him, deep down inside of him, liked that very much. He liked seeing her eyes wide like this and saliva dripping down her chin, “Suck and move that tongue around.”

With some coaching, she easily obeyed. 

“That’s what you want to do with me … okay?” She nodded, bringing her mouth towards Peter’s member. She took him into her mouth, “Move that tongue around, Doe -ah! Just like that.”

His moans were encouragement enough as Doe swirled her tongue around his tip before fully taking him into her mouth. Peter gathered her bright hair in his hand, pushing it from her face, so he could see her clearly as she devoured him, “Keep those eyes on me, little one.”

And she did. 

He wouldn’t last long like this, he knew it, but Doe seemed to gain more control, not needing much guidance as she eagerly took him in deeper. She was … supernatural. 

She gagged as she took in the whole length of him but she kept her tongue swirling around his base even as her eyes watered from the lack of oxygen. Peter almost lost it then but she pulled away with a gasp, “Good, Peter?”

“So good, Doe. So good.”

Doe giggled and went back to tending to him, bobbing her head up and down with the guidance of Peter’s hands wrapped around her hair. He could only handle a minute of it before his hips were bucking and he was releasing into her mouth. 

Peter opened his mouth to tell her she could spit it out but he watched as she swallowed it all and with little complaint. Doe was satisfied knowing she could take care of Peter in this way now. She stood up and crawled into his lap, straddling him. 

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Kiss Doe?”

Peter smiled and pecked her lips. 

Doe felt like a princess. 

+

Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs will probably be added to the taglist or send me an ask if you want me to be added! Check out my master list for more of my Peter fics.

[carmenxjulia]

I put together a transcript of the 2 hour Q&A Interview the Carmen Sandiego Discord did with Showrunner Duane Capizzi. All of the questions were submitted by server members. You can read everything below the break!

Duane Capizzi:

Hi there!

Am I in? Is this thing on?

PizzaHorse:

Hi, welcome!

Yep, you're in the right place!

Duane Capizzi:

Sorry I'm late, I was wandering around some empty Discord hallways looking for the right room haha

PizzaHorse:

No worries. Let's get started!

Who is your favorite character?

Duane Capizzi:

Moose Boy!

KIDDING!

Alright, how to NOT get myself in trouble if my answer isn't "Carmen" haha.

But really, they are ALL my babies.

So I know it's going to sound like a cop out to some that I can't pick just one. But hmm, some for instances...

I love that she's so morally evolved at such a young age; her ability to always take the high road and never lower herself; her drive and conviction and dedication. Her ability to kick serious booty and look good while doing it. Her progressive values, her fashion sense. I could go on and on. But then there's Shadowsan and his arc; Chase and his. Julia, who's every bit as strong as Carmen but shows it in different ways. The Cleaners don't get enough love.

I'll close that question with an anecdote about The Cleaners ...

I love that all our characters are embraced and that everyone seems to have favorites. Our sound engineer Marcel is a pretty serious guy: he has a serious job that takes high levels of focus and attention. He's always deeply focused and not prone to small talk. Anyway, we were in the middle of our first or second sound mix, and he suddenly stops in the middle and turns around to face us. I'm thinking, "uh oh, we're giving too many notes." That's when I notice he's freeze framed the Cleaners. He says "I really like these guys." Then he turns around, hits play and gets back to work.

PizzaHorse:

What was the biggest challenge for coming up with new stories and plot for the reboot?

Duane Capizzi:

THE biggest? Sigh. I'm not sure I could come up with just one. Plotting is always challenging and we had the brain trust of the room, our trusty white board, and writer assistant to keep the threads of the ongoing storyline together. I think the single biggest ONGOING challenge was tracking which character knew what at any given time.

The caper part was challenging - coming up with new capers and keeping them interesting and fresh. But, it was the characters and their interactions that kept things fresh and interesting. Another museum heist? That's okay - Chase is on the case and he gets to interact with "X" this time (for instance).

There were also some episodes - Duke of Vermeer and Crackle Goes Kiwi come to mind - where there was SO MUCH SET UP needed to get the payoffs to work. I was really worried about too much talk/too much detail. Very "Swiss watch!" It took a lot of work to make sure it all clicked and was clear - hopefully it seems effortless on screen but I can't say there wasn't some sweat and the occasional tear (mostly from me - I'm a big cry baby

But really, what made it fun was that we had so many buckets to draw from: sometimes a story germ initially began with a character idea; sometimes it was inspired by global location; sometimes it was a clever way to update or reimagine an idea from old Carmen lore. Usually, it was some combination of all of the above!

PizzaHorse:

What was your favorite scene to write?

Duane Capizzi:

I think we have a theme here! "How can I pick just one ...?"

As a film buff, I got to indulge in some serious fan nerdery on this show: I got to write spy movies, yakuza movies, spaghetti neo-westerns (though turning it on its head: spaghetti westerns usually involve REVENGE and because of Carmen's character make up, this was sort of anti-revenge).

Is writing coming up with the idea or typing it? Haha. An "if a tree falls in the forest" question. The writing team and I had so many cathartic "that's how it goes" in the room. But on my own, writing the Pilot, was a very inspiring time for me: I remember laughing out loud the moment I thought of Chase falling on his own car (in part because of doing my spin on "that trope" that we've seen in so many hard boiled movies recently). But also how emotional I got when I imagined the simple but potent image of Black Sheep deciding to take her destiny into her own hands and walk that long corridor to the Faculty who we were about to meet for the first time.

I think I've cited this in another interview, but there was a period where I was completely immersed in Chase's arc and the scene where he would crack the location of VILE island ... by listening to Julia in a dream ... was a big one for me. It revealed he was finally open to admitting he needed Julia more than he would ever admit - yet, it was his own subconscious speaking.

The next morning, after cracking that scene, I bumped into Raf Petardi (voice of Chase) ... at the supermarket! It was very strange and hilarious

PizzaHorse:

Did you scrap any lengthy or funny scenes that you would be able to share?

Duane Capizzi:

With few exceptions, most scene cuts are done at the script stage so that the story board team doesn't waste effort over boarding. A variety of trims to any script are common, but they are usually for the better

The easier question to answer might be scenes were part of our "wish list" at writer room stage, but never made it to story or script. I hesitate to go too deep here (in the event that we might ever do more Carmen episodes in this canon - I'm not giving up hope). And there were cases where things we wanted to do earlier in the series wound up getting nixed or not fitting for whatever reason, but we got them in later - USUALLY FOR THE BETTER. So there's sort of a reverse Murphy's Law/rule of good fortune somehow in these things. But some fun things that didn't make it into the show, that leap to mind were: a Bollywood dance sequence (!). A Vegas caper involving Brunt wanting to steal an Elvis jumpsuit against the backdrop of an Elvis impersonator convention. We also thought it would be neat to get Maelstrom imprisoned so that Julia could interrogate him and he would play mind games with her - very Lector/Clarice!

PizzaHorse:

Were there any different treatments of Carmen you pitched before settling on the one we ended up with?

Duane Capizzi:

I was one of several "pitches" that I'm sure HMH heard before running with my version. But I can honestly say I've never pitched anything as fully formed: the take on Carmen felt so right to me, and clearly HMH and by extension Netflix agreed

I'll answer your question with an anecdote: I had the entire Pilot pretty well worked out, and pitched it in the first meeting. But one key thing that changed (much for the better!), simply because it wouldn't have fit without slogging things down ...

In my Pilot pitch, Black Sheep's escape on the boat was off screen: we see Shadowsan corner her, then we cut away. The rest of the Faculty show up to find SS's broken sword on the rocks, and are led to believe BS killed him (!). In the present, Crackle points his weapon at Carmen and prepares to pull the trigger. We know that Chase is on the way and may rescue her. The compartment door opens to reveal - not Chase - but Shadowsan! Big surprise! Then we cut back to BS's escape and find out what really transpired etc etc.

Crazy, right? SS would have been hanging out with the gang in season 1; we might not have gotten to 203 with his back story, since his sword was broken and he couldn't return it. Just one of those magical things where "things work out" the way they are supposed to. THAT SAID, it made for a heckuva pitch

PizzaHorse:

Are there any characters that ended up taking a direction you didn't initially anticipate?

Duane Capizzi:

GRAY.

I didn't know we'd make him amnesiac when I wrote the Pilot, that was something we came up with in our first week Writer Room.

And even then, when it became clear he'd be a key piece of the bigger puzzle, we didn't know how exactly (mostly the Season 4 stuff).

We did get very deep with a version where 404 ended with his protective streak for Carmen kicking into high gear, and they would be fighting off Vile Guards back to back in perfect tandem. Then, having chosen Carmen over VILE, it was Carmen who actually orchestrates Gray going "off grid" so that VILE can never find him again. Funny, I know that is arguably the version of Gray's arc that many fans might have preferred seeing. But in the tradition of spy thrillers and film noir, and for a lone wolf character like Carmen who is focused on her life mission and not romance, we stand behind where we went with him. We felt it was so much more compelling ... and truly more emotional that he totally has a get out of jail free card when he sacrifices everything (including his life, potentially) to save Carmen.

when she needs him most!

I know I made some controversial comments about Gray "not being good enough for Carmen" and I'd like to clarify that I meant, until that final episode. What he did was so selfless and heroic. Is there hope for them in the future? Who knows?! But I do hope we get to explore that one day

I'm sure Gray is living off the grid somewhere now, inspired by Carmen's selfless good and thinking of her from time to time.

PizzaHorse:

You mentioned in the interview with Alicyn that Carmen is a love story, but you were cut off before you could finish discussing. Could you elaborate on your answer now?

Duane Capizzi:

Ugh, yes! Sorry about that. I actually answered that privately for someone so will cut and paste that response here. Let's see if it works.

Something we never said in the show, but something I imparted to the creative team was: Carmen Sandiego is (among other things) a LOVE STORY, where every character in our ensemble is in love with Carmen in one way or another. Even if they don't know it! That love can take different forms: we see how spurned by Carmen Coach Brunt feels and why she retaliates so excessively. Chase eventually comes to realize that he too loves Carmen, even if he wasn't initially aware of it haha. One of the most moving things to me about the series is how all of the different factions come to Carmen's rescue at the end when she's not "in her right mind," without knowing the others are there too. It's a massive group effort to bring back the Carmen they love. But we weren't looking for a fairy tale ending for Carmen with ANYone - Carmen's a classic lone wolf anti-hero, that goes with the territory. At least at this stage in her journey.

PizzaHorse:

Were there other locations that you wanted to feature in the show that didn't make it?

Duane Capizzi:

I think we managed to cover a lot of ground and "cadence" between different countries/cultures/continents was important to us. Many "iconic" locations of course, and it would have been nice to explore some lesser known locations if we had more episodes.

One that we almost did was Niagara Falls, Canada - actually literally going to the Falls and doing a big hydro-electric caper, where Player could actually get into the field with Carmen and the team.

But ultimately, we wound up bringing Player into the fold the way we did and wound up stronger as a result. It made his "first face to face" with Carmen even more impactful, IMO.

PizzaHorse:

Were there any changes in production between the first half and the second half of the series?

Duane Capizzi:

Well, there was that Covid thing

But while it was no doubt a colossal undertaking to get the entire staff transitioned to work from home (animators! and their equipment!), we managed to make up for lost time WITHOUT a dip in animation quality. My fedora's off to our amazing team at Wildbrain for pulling it off!

We did lose some staff between orders, but that is a natural part of production unfortunately. Namely, one of our episodic directors Kenny Park, our first storyboard artist Dennis Crawford, and our story editor May Chan were among those who moved on to other shows during the break. But, as hard as their shoes were to fill, fill them we did!

PizzaHorse:

What is your favorite season?

Duane Capizzi:

Easy. Hands down, Season 3.

(crickets)

KIDDING!

Again, another "they're all my babies" answer (and yes, I love Season 3 equally

It's hard, because really when you step back I'm sure you'll agree it's a series, with stand alone capers; but it's really all ONE BIG MOVIE.

Season 3 is like the scherzo of a symphony: the shortest movement of four, and the one that tees up the big finale.

That's my hoity toity answer but I'm going to put to rest all of the various theories on what happened with season 3. It was a combination of two things: Netflix's desire to experiment with different ways of "dropping" seasons, and their desire to do a holiday themed drop (in this case Halloween, naturally). It became our challenge to come up with a theme (easy enough: masks), and the bigger challenge to serve their need while not interrupting our ongoing narrative. A challenge to be sure, but a challenge met. I think the biggest bump was perception: it was a short season and I know that was disappointing to many. But, by design.

So, Season 3 = an essential part of the whole. I don't think there's a wasted episode, and it gets everyone into position for the big finish. I can't pick a favorite season - you can't make me

PizzaHorse:

Were there any characters you had wanted to give more time to but couldn't due to time/plot restraints?

Duane Capizzi:

Well, there's the "what was on the white board" answer but hopefully some of those ideas will see the light of day in some way, shape or form some day. I think if we had more episodes, we would have shaken up the internal dynamic of VILE a bit more (as hinted at Brunt's displeasure with Maelstrom for leaving her hanging out to dry at end of 405 - a seed we planted "just in case," as some have noted). And we had more scenes in mind with Chase's partnering with Carmen for the first time that we had to cut to the bone because of what little room we had in that otherwise packed episode (worry not: it's mostly more gags, more embellishment, more twists and turns - but the important stuff is there). Mostly, and I don't think it would have been right for Season 4 but I hope to tell in the future, I think there's an interesting history between Shadowsan and Lady Dokuso - possibly tragic - that I would love to explore one day. (She was a cameo in Duke of Vermeer at the dinner party BTW, I'm not sure if anyone noticed. And we built a bigger role for her out of that)

PizzaHorse:

What are some pre-2000/nostalgic Carmen references you snuck into the show? Do you have a favorite reference that was included?

Duane Capizzi:

Doing that was so much fun! I'd say roughly 60% of the characters were from previous iterations of Carmen, though often in name only. We had fun reimagining most everyone to make them more relevant or updated or giving them a more colorful personality for starters.

"Suhara" was Carmen's Japanese mentor when she worked at the ACME Agency in a flashback episode in the 90's series, for instance. I don't think I need to spell out how we turned that one inside out

And Tigress was also one episode only: she was a "rival thief" to Carmen, but revealed to be an ACME agent in disguise - a persona created solely to bait Carmen. It was really cool of course, but it seemed like untapped potential so we made her an ACTUAL Vile Thief.

My own internal rule was to make sure the references/easter eggs wouldn't confuse anyone - they were there for those who were in the loop and window dressing. The one and only time i broke that rule was Dark Carmen's line from 407: "I do it for the mental gymnastics." It was one of the most absurd lines from the 90's series (IMO) and i was determined to have it come out of Dark Carmen's mouth. I'm sure it left some 7 year olds scratching their heads

aside from that, the key references were the music: I still tingle at how we worked the Rockapella theme into the Interactive Special; and the 90's main title theme (composed by Mozart!), in our Vienna episode ("They're playing my song"). If you wanted Rockapella or Carmen as a bad guy, well ... be careful what you wish for!

PizzaHorse:

Was there any improvised content from recording sessions that made it into any episodes?

Duane Capizzi:

Yes! Not much, because a lot of it would have pushed us into TV-MA haha

Mostly Mary Elizabeth - Coach Brunt has a POTTY MOUTH!

Mikey and Abby usually riffed their banter WAY beyond what was on the written page and had us in stitches. Some bits definitely made it in! But mostly there was too much or it would get off point (hmmm, much like my interview answers maybe? haha)

Sharon Muthu did rise to Pun Goddess status with "Mask and you shall receive." And Raf pitched me "Chasse means hunt in French" after one session and I said: "I'm going to write that in." I don't think he believed me. You can't say I'm not a straight shooter.

PizzaHorse:

If you could get more season, would you do it, and what type of story would you tell?

Duane Capizzi:

Well if that hasn't been clear so far, ABSOLUTELY

There have been discussions of course. It's up to the powers that be at this point. I will say this: the beauty and tradition so far has been that every iteration has been its own thing. I definitely think there are more "different canon" versions of Carmen that can be had and be a part of this wonderful tradition. After all, there were many naysayers for our version when it was first announced.

I will also say that if we don't get to tell any more stories in this canon with these characters, we've left a perfect gem that will stand the test of time. I would rather go out on a high note than overstay our welcome.

All that said, we worked within the allotted episodes given, ended it as we wished, but left the door open for other stories. I'd love to do an expansion and a deepening: pick up where we left off; find out what happened in those two years; and proceed to do the equivalent of Godfather II or Better Call Saul as related to the amazing originals they followed.

Let's hope! Keep putting good vibes out there!

PizzaHorse:

If you could pick a character on Carmen Sandiego who'd you switch places with for a day (you get to control their life and they get to control yours) who would you pick, and why?

Duane Capizzi:

Okay, THIS is difficult. So you're going Freaky Friday on me?

on a Sunday?

Hmmm, I know Ivy would get along with my cat ... but then I'd have to hang out with Zack!

That's the trick: I can't pick my favorites cuz I couldn't hang out with them!

(not that I have favorites - they're all my babies haha)

Okay, I have one: ROUNDABOUT. I could fill Shadowsan's seat - how cool is that? Then, I could enact all my evil fantasies - but still have a get out of jail free card cuz he'd be sitting at my desk!

(cut to Duane being brain wiped - D'oh!)

PizzaHorse:

Who are two characters who don't really interact in the show that you think could be good friends or work really well together?

Duane Capizzi:

Hmmmm. Okay, now I'm going to give you quick and sassy answers. Gray and Julia! They'd be so cute banding together to rescue captive Carmen (for instance). And they could also duke it out and maybe settle things between themselves re: shipping controversies instead of dragging me into it

PizzaHorse:

The FINAL QUESTION. Have you learned anything super impactful while working on the show?

Duane Capizzi:

Aside from Iceland's terrifically low crime rate?

I think I have learned to never underestimate how meaningful characters can be to fans. Social media has obviously brought us a lot closer to our fan base in more immediate ways: it's been really gratifying to hear/see/read feedback and not be writing things in a vacuum. It's been gratifying to see that ideas that were meaningful to myself and the creative team on Carmen that were crafted with care, have also resonated with our fan base. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who has traveled on this journey with us - for embracing Carmen's world view, and her friends and foes alike. Take care everyone! Stay safe! This has been fun, thanks for having me!

PizzaHorse:

HUGE thank you to Duane Capizzi: for being here today.

Thank you everyone for watching and reacting!

Duane Capizzi:

Okay, gotta run - just gotta find the door

Anyway, really: THIS HAS BEEN AMAZING. I speak for everyone involved in the creation and production of Carmen: it has been an amazing and inspiring series and we're elated to see it connect with such a CREATIVE, TALENTED and INTELLIGENT fan base. Take care everyone! Until next crime...

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Favorite manga art style? Personally I really like the fp/m and the tdd art styles :3

My opinion is a little bit biased because I spend a lot of time bitching with the cleaners, but I like all of them for different reasons.

The TDD mangaka’s (Rui Karasuduki) screentone usage makes me want to take up day drinking, but her art is consistently one of my favorites. Her art feels very “definite”, and her backgrounds are usually nicely detailed. I like the way she draws characters, too! She can go back and forth from very serious figures to cute, chibi-style artwork depending on the mood of the panel almost effortlessly.

I like the BB/MTC mangaka’s (Tetsuji Kanie) artwork at certain points but not others. You can tell when he (?) is drawing something he enjoys, especially birds. He also pulls off some pretty awesome effects from time to time. I loathe his SFX, though, because they can be utter bastards to remove. He’s not super popular because his anatomy and facial expressions are a bit wonky, so I feel bad for him and want to support him, haha.

The FP/M mangaka (Kiiko Jyo) is great too! She’s right up there with Karasuduki-sensei for me. Her artwork is always extremely detailed (which can be a pain in the ass for us) and super emotive. Unlike TDD, FP/M feels a lot more ���wispy”. There’s a great sense of movement in almost everything she draws. You can tell from the way she draws and the way she writes that she puts an enormous amount of thought into her work, especially in regards to her paneling. I love that.

The DH/BAT mangaka (Kikou Aiba) has much more of a cartoony style, which really seems to fit Dotsuitarehonpo especially. Her manga feels so much different from the other ones, which isn’t particularly a good or a bad thing. I believe the mangakas write at least some of their own dialogue and raps, because her narration style feels very different to me than the other manga. It feels kind of like what you’d hear in a movie, so I try to approach it with that style too. Hmm, that’s not what you were really asking about, though... I really like her use of shadows. It works well with the greyscale.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

wait my i request north italy bf headcannons? (If not requested before) thank you!!💞

Hello, lovely~ I’ve not actually had any boyfriend headcanons requested for Feliciano before, so here are a few I’ve put together:

Veneziano:

He doesn’t really consider what you have as “dating;” Feli intends to court you. Dates are casual, happen only once or twice with no serious commitments in mind. But if you genuinely want to make this relationship a long term thing? He’s treating it as a courtship, simple as that.

He loves to surprise you with homemade treats, slipping dolcini into your fridge when you’re not looking, bringing extra biscotti along for long car rides. Most of the time he plays innocent… Most of the time.

He took his time leading up to the first kiss, waiting for the ideal moment, asking with little more than a whisper.

He can be a bit disorganized when it comes to his living quarters, and it’s not completely uncommon for one of you (usually him) to trip over his wayward shoes or the blankets he only half tossed back on the bed in the mornings.

Ironically, his kitchen and his small library are immaculate. He absolutely washes the dishes while also cooking or baking, limiting the amount of clean-up he has to deal with later.

He prefers going on cultural dates, especially when it’s in a place he’s never been before. Most of the time though, he likes to wander old galleries, find small concerts, and visit the little pop-up market stalls in the piazze. If you’re feeling a bit more laid-back, he’s also always down for a lazy day in, sharing the couch and watching whatever catches your interest.

He’s very tactile, and lives for holding your hand, sharing the same side of a table, wrapping his arm around you; really Felice looks for any excuse to be touching you, really half oblivious to it at times.

He has a whole sketchbook filled with drawings of you- mostly detailing of your hands or hair, many attempts on getting the ridges of your lips just right. He keeps that one hidden away from you; he won’t let you see it until he’s captured even an nth of your perfection.

He absolutely loves going shopping with you, whether it’s for clothes or electronics or toilet bowl cleaner. He sees it as a chance to spend more time with you, and also get a better idea of your tastes and interests.

It also gives him a chance to watch you window shop, and plot out some more gifts to grab you later on.

He has days where he’s slightly more subdued, and you’ll usually find him in his study, staring listlessly out across the Adriatic. You’ve learnt that the best way to get him to come back to you is to hug him from behind, give him a gentle tether back to the present.

He really doesn’t like talking about the past with you. Fonder memories with Kiku, Ludvig, and even Francis sometimes will come up in conversation, but he never talks much about the darker parts. He’d rather you know him as the person he is as opposed to the person he was.

You’ve never seen him get jealous, and that is intentional. He’s still nervous about letting you see just how dependent he’s become on your being in his life, still hasn’t quite mustered up the courage to tell just how deeply he’s fallen for you.

It was vital to him that he met your family and closest friends early on in the relationship, and vice versa. Family is a priority, and making sure that your loved ones knew his intentions from the get-go was almost essential. On the other end of the spectrum, Lovino and Marcello are so interwoven with his daily life now that not introducing you right away would have earned him all kinds of hell.

It’s not enough for him to simply bake you goodies here and there; he made sure to learn which ones are your favorites so he can make you a personalized recipe box. Hopefully sometime soon, he can present it to you as part of your wedding present.

He will get random bursts of playful energy, and will follow through on childish whims like jumping in puddles or finding an empty playground and playing on the equipment. At this point, you’ve learnt to either just go along with his antics, or stand in the background suffering secondhand embarrassment.

He’s actually an early riser, always trying to wake up with the sun. He likes the quiet of the morning, and he’ll always have fresh espresso waiting for you to doctor up when you finally join him in the conservatory.

Thanks for the ask, Anon!

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 17

<= Chapter 16

Summary : Snatcher learns something that is definitely not a good thing. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/68569863

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New chapter ! I hope you'll like it ! (same for the drawing, which took me quite a while ahaha) Thank you for all your comment and your support, it really means a lot, thank you so much !!

I hope you’ll like this chapter !

Of course, the “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​​ !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 17 - “… But what if I can’t…?”

Silence had settled in the room, only interrupted by the little beeping sounds of the vacuum cleaner trying to comfort the little girls. Both were looking at the ground, their face showing clear worry as they were still processing what they had just been told.

The Subcon fires were dying down… And this was going to lead to the worst case scenario if they didn’t find a solution soon enough.

Snatcher was leaning against the glass wall of the hub, silent. A clear frown was visible on his features, and it wasn’t hard to see the fear and nervousness in his eyes. But considering what he had been through with Vanessa… He knew it was justified. There weren’t many things that scared him, really, but the Ice Queen was one of the few. His arms were crossed, his eyes fixed on the kids as he was waiting for their reaction. An awful pain was starting to eat him from the inside, a clear sign of his anxious state. There were things that never changed and, unfortunately, his deep-rooted anxiety had survived his death and now his coming-back-from-the-dead experience. Great.

Next to him, Moonjumper was no better. The young man supposed that stealing his old memories probably played a huge part in the corpse’s nervous attitude which, he couldn’t help but think that it served him right. But this wasn’t the time for such thoughts. The other was floating without saying a word, fidgeting with his hands, rubbing them together, as if he were trying to forget his fear by focusing on the sensation and the action itself.

No need to say that the information brought by Moonjumper cast quite a chill in the room. Ha.

-“So…” started the bow-wearing kid, her voice shy and hesitant, looking up at the two spirits slowly: “How much time do we have left?”

This was the question that had been on Snatcher’s lips all along, though he hadn’t found the courage to ask it himself. If he had to be completely honest… He was scared of the answer. What if they only had a few days to figure out a solution? What if they only had a few hours?! The former shade was afraid of what he was going to hear. Yet… Yet he turned his head, staring at Moonjumper as he waited for the answer with shaking hands. He was trying his best to contain his emotions, to keep a straight face… But he was clever enough to know that it was certainly not working at all.

-“Perhaps… Perhaps two to three days if we’re lucky,” replied the corpse, darkly and gravely, a knowing look on his face. ‘If we’re lucky’, he had said.

Too bad that Luck had never held Snatcher close to its heart. In any case, Moonjumper’s answer made him shiver. They only had a few days… And it was only if they were lucky and if Vanessa didn’t find out about the current situation first.

This was utterly hopeless. Soon, Snatcher felt his breath getting heavier and quicker, the fear rapidly settling over him. It was like an unbearable weight had been put on his shoulders, one that forced so many terrible memories back to his mind. No, no, no, he didn’t want to think about them, this was not the time.

The corpse’s statement had a similar effect on the little girls, making them glance away. The bow-wearing kid unconsciously hugged herself while the older child was gritting her teeth, rubbing her fingers together, probably in the same attempts as Moonjumper, to focus on something else. Although, by the look on her face, this was not working. Snatcher couldn’t really blame them. After sending them to the Queen’s manor, he could only imagine that playing hide and seek with a very enraged Vanessa was not a good experience to remember.

Actually, he didn’t really have to imagine it. He had experienced that himself.

“No, stop,” he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand, clenching his fists. The feeling of his nails scratching his palms was enough to distract him, thankfully. He knew he’d regret it later, because of the pain he’d feel in the next few hours… At least, if he lived long enough until then. It would all depend on Vanessa’s next actions from now on.

Clearly, this was not reassuring in the least.

-“How is the research progressing?” asked Moonjumper, though it was clear that there was some subtext there: “how is the research going because we need results now or we’re all dead”. Something along those lines, from Snatcher’s guess.

The question cast another chill in the room, quite unsurprisingly, and it was enough for the corpse to figure out the answer. Silence replied to him and soon, his face crumpled as he had to realize what it meant.

Frankly, it was the same for the former ghost.

-“So… So it’s not ready yet?” wondered Moonjumper aloud, his voice trembling more and more.

-“It’s…” The hatted brat was the one to reply, but it was clear from her stance and from her intonation that, no, it wasn’t ready yet: “No, it’s not. Actually, we only had the time to gather the basic information, but… Not the time to really fiddle with the Time Piece itself.”

The younger child quickly added her own explanation:

-“Time Pieces are too dangerous to tinker with to do anything stupid… That’s why we wanted to run some tests first, but that was also because we thought we had more time…”

Moonjumper’s expression worsened even more as he heard the little girls’ confession. It was a clear sign of how bad the situation was. They didn’t have any solution, wouldn’t have one ready before a few days… And the fires would be out by then.

This was a disaster. Subcon was going to get frozen again, all the subconites and dwellers would suffer from Vanessa’s wrath once more, and the worst part was that he wouldn’t be able to save them this time.

It was over.

A broken laugh escaped him as the weight of how hopeless this situation was settled over his fragile shoulders. This was it, then. All his efforts to save Subcon, to allow the dead children to actually get to “live” in some kind of after-life, to try and keep his abuser away-

And it had all been for nothing. What a fool he had been to ever think he could stay away from the one that had made his life and afterlife a living hell.

-“Snatcher…?” murmured the corpse, tilting his head to the side and stopping his fidgeting as he watched the former prince very carefully. His inhuman and pale face showed how worried he was but, unfortunately for him, the man was now long gone.

Soon, the latter’s laugh became louder, and louder, and louder until it sounded like his usual hysterical laugh. And yet, it still sounded different: broken, not distorted like it used to be back when he was a spirit, and also very much human.

And this was the fucking problem, now, wasn’t it.

The trio’s faces fell even more as they could do nothing but watch Snatcher laughing and laughing, covering his face with both of his hands, his pose getting more and more unstable as his head fell backwards.

They were all fucking dead. No matter what they’d try, no matter what means they’d find, there was no way he would be able to light up those fires again. After a few more seconds, his laugh eventually died down, leaving the trio very disconcerted by the sight before them. Slowly, the former ghost removed his hands, which were trembling a lot more than what he’d be fine showing, his eyes staring at them.

-“There’s no way we can get out of this, is there?” he asked weakly, though it really wasn’t a question, seeing the recent turns of event.

Silence was his only answer and, to be fair, this was more than enough for him to know that he was right. They couldn’t do anything, this whole thing was hopeless, they would never-

-“Actually…” the corpse interrupted his thoughts, with a graver tone than before, something that definitely didn’t reassure Snatcher in the least. The man lifted his head, glancing back at the floating corpse with an alarmed expression. What…? Did he miss something…?

-“What?” he urged his counterpart to continue, unable to stand the wait. Just like him, the kids were looking at Moonjumper insistently, visibly just as desperate to know what they could do : “You said it yourself!” he snapped at the other: “My fires are dying down, there’s nothing we-”

-“There is something,” the corpse spoke over Snatcher, louder and more determined to be heard: “You just didn’t even think of it,” his face was serious, as if he wanted the former shade to understand that this was perhaps their last resort.

And, well, it kind of was.

-“Will you explain yourself?!” groaned the hat-wearing child, holding her head in frustration: “Stop making the moment last!”

The little girl’s reproach forced Moonjumper to snap back to reality and the fact that they, in fact, didn’t have the time for that sort of suspense. He threw embarrassed glances around before starting to fidget again, rubbing his wrists nervously.

-“R-right,” he nodded, then glancing back at the young man and taking a deep breath he didn’t need: “You know, we- you were not a simple human back when you were alive- I mean, before being alive now,” he seemed to have some trouble finding the right words and that didn’t help to reassure Snatcher, already more than worried for what was to come.

-“Go straight to the point,” urged the young man again, way too frustrated and afraid to be fine with listening to a long explanation, even more when it was a confusing one. If Moonjumper had a plan, whatever it was, they had to put it in place now. They couldn’t allow themselves to lose any more time, especially with Vanessa as a major threat to Subcon Forest.

She was too unpredictable.

Moonjumper winced, but eventually sighed, his eyes staring at Snatcher gravely:

-“If you’re alive just like you were in the past…” He paused, and eventually spat it out: “Then you might still be able to summon your magic.”

The corpse’s suggestion was definitely not one the former shade had expected, and certainly not one he had even thought of. The latter immediately frowned, both in confusion and hesitation. His powers? No, he couldn’t, he knew that, because…

-“I can’t use my powers into this form, I tried,” Snatcher explained, though he knew Moonjumper wasn’t hinting at the powers he was as a ghost… But the ones he had as a human. However, he hadn’t used them in hundreds of years, couldn’t, even! Doing magic as a human and doing magic as a ghost thanks to the souls he ate… Those were two very, very different things.

-“You know what I’m talking about,” retorted his counterpart with a low tone. Just like Snatcher had feared, Moonjumper had been able to read him like an open book. It most likely had to do with the fact that the corpse had inherited his memories. To that, well, there was also probably the fact that they had -unfortunately- known each other for quite some time already.

Obviously, that made Moonjumper some kind of psychic. Now that was just great.

The man frowned again, not liking any of this. The children were now looking at him, silent and waiting for his reply, their expressions turning to ones of hope.

… Too bad this wasn’t going to last.

-“I can’t use those,” he told his floating interlocutor, his voice a bit too shaky for his liking: “And, even if I still was able to use them somehow, I have no idea how to do so anymore!”

Magic took a lot of practice and theory. However, after hundreds of years spent without actually practicing anything… Well, he had lost most of his progress. Plus… Plus he had some issues linked to those powers.

He had used them just before being murdered by Vanessa.

The living corpse’s expression became darker and he lifted his arms, exasperated:

-“Well, try, then!” his intonation had become much more aggressive, which was a bit surprising when it came to Moonjumper, who was much more patient than Snatcher: “We literally have two to three days to find something, and this is the only thing I can think of. The Time Piece isn’t ready, your fires are still dying down as we talk, and nothing can fuel them back to what they were except you.”

The former ghost froze as he heard his counterpart’s words. He knew it was true, he knew it was all true… And yet, there was something preventing him from actually considering this plan as a working one. Would he even be able to use his human magic, after so much time passed practicing a completely different form of magic…? And, even if he did, what if it didn’t work? What if Vanessa still came back to freeze everyone again?

What if… Nothing was enough? What if he wasn’t enough?

His eyes fell to the ground and he stopped breathing for a few seconds. These powers hadn’t saved him back in the cellar, so how would they be able to save them all now? Then again, Moonjumper was right: this was their only solution for now.

Unfortunately.

Said living corpse started to talk again, floating closer to the young man before putting a hand over his shoulder. Snatcher winced and furrowed his brow at the contact, still not enjoyable to him, but didn’t step away or say anything about it. He just remained silent.

-“I know it’s a lot of pressure. I’m sorry, I should have used my words better, I didn’t want to make you feel bad when you’re more than right to feel the way you do now.”

Snatcher gritted his teeth at the other’s words. He was being pitied again!

-“What about you?” he snapped back, glancing back up to glare at Moonjumper: “You’re so insistent with me using my old magic, but don’t you have my old body too?”

His question seemed to surprise the floating corpse a bit as the latter’s eyes widened. However… Soon enough, a sad smile appeared on his features and he tilted his head, as if the answer were painfully obvious:

-“You know that this type of magic uses one’s life-force as a fuel,” he started, his smile slowly disappearing: “… And I’m not exactly alive anymore.”

The young man’s face fell as he heard this because, even if deep down he was aware of that… It still hurt to be confronted with such a terrible reality. He was the only one that could save Subcon Forest, and while he had been more than ready for that… Using a part of himself that he had rejected for so long was much more difficult than it appeared.

Lukas, the Prince he used to be, had long been dead, and Snatcher had done everything to adopt a new persona, new attitudes, a new personality… He had changed his whole self just to kill any leftovers of who he used to be.

And now… Now he had to dig through all of these old shards of himself, those he had chosen to ignore all those years…?

He didn’t know if he could do that. Especially when said powers hadn’t been able to save him from a very, very painful and terrifying death.

Snatcher lowered his head, staring at the floor and gritting his teeth to the point it just hurt. His fists were tight and he could feel his nails almost breaking the skin of his palms, though at the moment, he didn’t care much about the pain. Compared to how terrible he was feeling at the moment, it was barely noticeable anyway.

-“… But what if I can’t…?” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible, like a whisper: “I’m not that person anymore…” He covered his face with both of his hands, already feeling some tears coming up in his eyes. No. No.

No.

He didn’t want anyone to see him cry, no one, ever, and especially not Moonjumper and the little girls. The former ghost was already being pitied far too much and he didn’t want to worsen what was already quite unbearable.

-“What do you mean?” suddenly asked the bow-wearing child, with an unsure intonation: “Why wouldn’t you be able to do that anymore?”

Snatcher remained silent for a few seconds. He kept telling himself he couldn’t do magic anymore, but really, why indeed? It was hard to know the difference between what was being realistic and his self-loathing issues, which he was very well aware of, even more now that he had met Moonjumper. He really wanted to believe this could work, he really did, but then again, the question remained: “what if?”

Before he could find the words to answer her question, the other brat started to talk:

-“I mean… We could try to speed up our experiments on the Time Piece, but…” she paused, rubbing her arm: “I’m not sure it’s safe.”

The younger one added, nodding her head as she did so:

-“It won’t be safe, but if you really can’t use your powers, it’s still a risk we can take,” she slightly glared at Moonjumper before continuing: “if you think you can’t do it, it’s alright. We won’t force you. You have your reasons.”

Her older friend made a few steps in his direction and gently touched his left arm, rubbing it slowly and not putting too much pressure on it:

-“What she said,” she told him with a sad smile, though it was one that was trying to convey reassurance: “We get it, we’ll do what we can to help, it’s okay. Don’t worry.”

At their words, the former ghost felt more tears coming into his eyes. Why was he so weak…?! Why couldn’t he hold back, why couldn’t he repress those awful emotions that were hurting him so much?! Why did he have to…

Why did he have to be human again?

A sob eventually escaped his lips and before he could realize what was happening, the former Prince fell onto his knees, finally breaking down. Sounds of crying echoed in the room as numerous sobs left him, making his body tremble and his shoulders shake from the conflicting sets of emotions he had to deal with. Shame, fear, anxiousness, self-loathing… All negative but very, very powerful ones.

Without much surprise, the trio in front of him was more than troubled by the sight and, immediately, the little girls rushed at his sides, shushing him, reassuring him and rubbing his back. But their kindness and mercy were only making things worse, were only making Snatcher cry harder from how pathetic and useless he felt at the moment.

He hated to be seen that way. He hated every second of it.

The floating corpse was watching the scene happening before him with guilt clearly visible on his features, his annoyance at Snatcher’s reticence now all washed away with the terrible realization that, no, this wasn’t as easy as what he had first thought. But not only that.

He had gone too far.

With an even more remorseful expression, Moonjumper slowly joined the children to Snatcher’s side, his hands fidgeting again. The corpse glanced everywhere around him, as if he didn’t know where to stand, or, where to float rather. When his eyes came back on the former Prince, crying more and more uncontrollably, he winced, tightening his jaw. This most likely wasn’t what he had expected, but hey, he had been the one to suggest that solution, as traumatizing it was for the former ghost.

-“I…” He tried to talk again, only to stop for a brief pause, searching for his words: “I’m sorry,” he apologized, his tone full of guilt and sadness: “I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you, when you’re already dealing with…” he gestured to the world around them: “with all of this. I guess I was… And still am, actually, very scared of what might happen from now on. But that doesn’t excuse the way I talked to you earlier.”

He paused, while Snatcher’s sobs stopped, the latter clearly listening to him attentively:

-“I’m really sorry. I should have been the one to know how much this would affect you, and I’ve gone too far. I won’t force you to do anything, there are other solutions and, while we do need to find them, they still exis-”

The former ghost didn’t let the other the time to finish his sentence and cut him short:

-“I’ll do it,” he said suddenly, his voice still broken from how hard he had cried and yet sounding determined: “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

Snatcher loathed this idea… But Moonjumper had been right, despite what he just tried to say a few instants ago: this was their only way out of this, and most likely the most efficient one. No matter how much this would affect the young man, he just… Couldn’t stand the idea of giving up when he could actually do something to prevent it. The idea of not being good enough, the idea of not being powerful enough to do a single thing… Sure, he was scared, but this was nothing compared to how he’d feel once Vanessa decided to come and freeze the entire forest again.

He was the only one who could protect Subcon and, as the rightful king of his forest, he was going to put his own suffering aside if it meant he could save all of its inhabitants.

-“Are you sure…?” asked the bow-wearing kid, whose face showed how worried she was. Well, actually, the whole trio looked that way, but she was the one looking the most concerned.

-“Yeah…” he replied, slowly lifting his head and drying his tears on his sleeve. His face was red and his hair was stuck to his wet cheeks, his hands still trembling. But he had made up his mind.

He was going to save Subcon.

No matter what it would take. -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hehehehehe another cliffhanger, woohooo- Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter ! See you in the next one !

=> Chapter 18