#Happy Camper Orphanage

[cryptocollectibles]

Adventures of Sly Cooper #1 (2004) by Gamepro

By Travis Kotzebue and Augie Pagan.

[neopuff]

ALWAYS ON MY MIND

chapter ten: made up my mind ships: sasha/milla characters: milla, sasha, oleander, ford, lili word count: 4787 ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53435410/chapters/137330335

[chap 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

-

“You’re better at this than I thought you’d be, Nein,” Oleander said to his fellow counselor over dinner on the first day of camp.

“Uh…thanks,” Sasha responded. He wasn’t used to getting compliments from his coworker, even if it was a bit backhanded. Something was better than nothing, he supposed, and Milla made him promise to try and get along with Oleander while the children were around. He was, after all, nothing if not accommodating. Especially when she was sitting right next to him. “It helps that there’s only ten of them. I thought there’d be more.”

“Yeah, well, there’ll be more next summer!” Oleander responded while still chewing his food. “So don’t start thinkin’ being a counselor is easy! More kids means more heads to count and more mouths to feed!”

Sasha rolled his eyes at that comment, glad neither of the people he was eating with could see behind his sunglasses. He wasn’t involved in feeding the kids and counting fifteen instead of ten wasn’t exactly the trial and tribulation that Oleander described it as.

If Sasha wanted to be honest with himself, there were two elements to this camp counselor business that he was struggling with. The first was that the Grand Head’s young daughter, Lili, recognized him from the Motherlobe and kept speaking to him with much more familiarity than he felt was appropriate. She called him Sasha instead of Agent Nein. She also called him green bean, and she kept telling the other children that he was ‘a big softie.’ He’d never realized he made such an impression on her during their limited interactions in Grand Head Zanotto’s office.

The second thing he took issue with was a bit embarrassing. He was trying not to think about it too much. The dinner he was having with Oleander and Milla was the first time since waking up that he’d gotten to see his partner. And he was finding that he didn’t enjoy the camp as much when she wasn’t by his side.

He still reached out to her telepathically throughout the day, but Milla was almost always busy with one of the campers. She’d fallen back into childcare as easily and naturally as he’d expected, and Sasha was happy for her, he really was. But he’d gotten used to talking to her all the time and felt a bit empty without her thoughts in his head.

While they ate dinner - burgers, again - Sasha took note that Milla wasn’t focused on her food at all. She was watching the campers while they ate and chatted with one another and she looked very happy that they were all having a good time.

He turned to look at Morceau again since the man had quieted down, and was met with a knowing smirk and a repetitive glance between Milla and Sasha. Yes, sure, he’d just been staring at Milla. For a few seconds. Sasha didn’t think that was worthy of an annoying, suggestive stare. Telepathically, he reminded Oleander of his promise to stop, which led to the shorter man frowning and rolling his eyes.

Sasha spent the rest of dinner focused on his burger rather than conversation. He’d had a long day, after all.

X

Milla was really enjoying being a camp counselor.

It wasn’t like working at the orphanage, not really. A small part of her was worried that the experience might be triggering, which was the main reason why she’d hesitated about signing up. As much as she enjoyed being around children and teaching them new things, she didn’t want to put them in danger on the off chance that she had some sort of…episode.

It’d been a very long time since she’d experienced any of those particular issues. And with Sasha by her side, she felt confident that she’d be fine.

Unfortunately, Sasha wasn’t by her side as much as she’d hoped.

They were on the second day of camp, and she only really saw him at meals for the past two days. And it wasn’t as nice as their first two days on the grounds where they were by themselves, wandering and having a nice time. It’d felt almost like the romantic vacation that Morry had joked about. But he was right - once the kids had arrived, their free time was gone.

She really enjoyed working with the children. They were all so energetic and eager to learn and Milla was happy to teach them the basics about levitation. They also seemed to enjoy the music she played in her head, which was more than she could say for her partner.

Truman’s daughter stressed her out though - the little girl was now six years old, as her birthday had recently passed, and she really, really loved to play with fire.

Milla considered it a personal challenge to not focus too intensely on it. Lili wasn’t setting any other campers on fire and she was mostly just creating small balls of fire in the air and watching them dissipate, so it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. The previous camp counselors complained that she was attacking fellow campers, so either she’d learned from her mistakes or Truman gave her a talking-to.

Either way, Milla was focusing on deep breathing and levitation. And enjoying the beautiful lake, of course. She held her levitation classes on some docks floating on the water so even if she didn’t get a chance to swim, she’d be able to soak up the smell. It was very nice.

After a long day of training and an equally long dinner (thanks to Morry telling a story about his time on the battlefield, though he never specified exactly what battlefield that was), Milla found herself feeling a bit restless.

The children were all in their cabins, hopefully getting to sleep, but she didn’t feel like going back to her own. She wanted a little break from childcare - it’d been a long time since she worked with kids, after all. It took some time to get used to it again. And she assumed that Sasha was struggling, even if he refused to show it. So before he could wander back to their cabin, Milla reached out telepathically to see if he wanted to go talk to Agent Cruller.

Sasha sent back an affirmative.

Milla had discovered the locations of a few other hollow tree stumps that led to Agent Cruller’s sanctuary. Not wanting to make Sasha uncomfortable with another tight squeeze, she headed there by herself and let him know to meet her. They’d planned to visit Ford on the first day of camp, but everything was so crazy with all the children arriving that they hadn’t had an opportunity.

She levitated out of the stump and into Ford’s sanctuary; Sasha following a few seconds later.

“Good to see you two again!” Cruller said with a toothy grin. “Camp’s a little crazier than you would’ve thought, huh?”

Sasha pushed up his sunglasses and shrugged. “It’s about what I predicted.”

“You said you needed help with some projects?” Milla asked, stepping closer. “What kind of projects?”

“Missions, mostly.” Ford scanned over some of the floating screens around them and pointed to one in particular. “I’ve got access to some real top-secret information down here. But if I try to send it off to HQ, well…they’ll throw it out.” He sighed deeply. “But you two are senior agents! If you bring the mission specs back to Truman, he’ll have no choice but to hear you out!”

Milla glanced at Sasha. It was true, as senior agents they had full access to investigate and dedicate their time to missions not assigned by the Grand Head. She wondered if it was a good idea to get involved in whatever Agent Cruller was working on, though. He seemed almost completely sane while underground, but things weren’t always as they appeared. She couldn’t get a read on the man’s mind, either, which didn’t ease her nerves.

“I get why you might hesitate,” Cruller said, reminding Milla that he was able to read her thoughts without trying. “We can start off with something light. Something small! If my lead goes nowhere, then you can ignore the ramblings of a crazy old man. But if I’m right and the Noodler is back on the prowl like I think he is…well, then you two could really help me out!”

“The Noodler? Again?” Sasha stepped forward and looked at the screen that Ford was pointing to. He took a minute to read through the document carefully. “I can’t deny that it looks like a promising lead. But why wouldn’t the Motherlobe have access to this?”

“The Motherlobe has too many checks and balances to go through,” Ford mumbled, scrolling through the article on the screen. “My sanctuary here is untraceably accessing data from around the world!”

Untraceably? Milla frowned. That didn’t sound legal or safe.

Sasha looked back at her and adjusted his sunglasses, silently telling her that he understood the same risks that she did.

Still…the Noodler was a dangerous man. If they could stop him, they should.

“We’ll do it,” Sasha said. “After the end of camp, we’ll head back to the Motherlobe and get to work on this assignment.” He looked at Milla again. “If you agree, of course.”

She was a little nervous about the situation, but saving lives and taking down dangerous criminals was important. “Yes. We’ll help you, Agent Cruller.”

They spent another hour down in Ford’s sanctuary, discussing various details of the Noodler case and other missions he was preparing for them. It seemed that Ford didn’t get much sleep - whether it was due to his mental break or the psitanium overload, he worked nonstop through the night. It was no wonder he was able to build his sanctum and railway system in just over two months.

Sasha and Milla made their way back onto the campgrounds once they realized how much time had passed. Time felt like it passed differently underground.

“Hey! Where the hell have you two been?”

The agents had levitated out of the stump near Oleander’s treehouse, and he seemed very unhappy to see them. Morry was lighting the path with a fireball held in the air near his head, and he glared at them like they’d really done something wrong by staying out a little later than usual.

“Um…” Milla started, not sure what to say.

“Jesus Christ, forget about it. I don’t wanna know,” Oleander grumbled, shaking his head. 

It was pretty obvious what he’d concluded, but neither Sasha nor Milla could think of a better explanation for their disappearance, so they decided to leave it alone.

“You two can’t just wander off whenever you want!” Morry continued to glare, the fireball next to him glowing hotter every time he growled. “Just because the kids are in bed doesn’t mean they’re asleep! You should know better - especially you, Vodello!”

Milla frowned. Of course she knew that. But she also knew she couldn’t watch them every second of every day - especially not when several of the campers knew how to temporarily turn invisible. But of course, Morceau had to continue exhaling the air of superiority he felt over them simply because the camp was his idea. “We just went for a walk, Morry. Calm down.”

“Weren’t you here watching the cabins?” Sasha added, offended on her behalf.

Morry shook his head disapprovingly. “Of course I was! That’s how I noticed you two were gone!” He glanced all around him, his eyes landing on something in the distance behind Sasha and Milla. “Now you two get back to the cabin. I’m gonna go fight off that psychic bear!”

He bounced past the two of them and into the darkness; the light from his little fireball was the only thing either of them could see after a few seconds.

“...that was annoying,” Sasha commented dryly, running a hand through his hair.

Milla reached down and grabbed his free hand, tugging him along behind her as she marched towards the cabin. “Come on, let’s try and get to sleep before he comes back.”

X

Sasha didn’t explicitly, purposefully try to piss Oleander off. It just happened. Especially when he specifically did the opposite of what the shorter man told him to do.

But he couldn’t help it. Oleander wasn’t his boss. Sasha had, in fact, been a part of the Psychonauts for longer than Oleander, even if it was only by a few months. It didn’t matter that Oleander was older and had battlefield experience (however that could possibly be relevant to the camp). Sasha was not his employee and would only do as asked if it made sense for him to do it.

This dynamic led to a tiring handful of days at Whispering Rock. In his efforts to avoid spending any extra time with Morry, Sasha dove into his work as a counselor. He showed the campers around his mental cube and showed them how to PSI-blast censors into oblivion. It was good practice and he found it relaxing to feel censors being destroyed. It was certainly a win-win situation. The children didn’t seem to like Sasha all that much on a personal level - he definitely overheard one of the older campers call him intimidating - but no one could deny that they were learning.

After a long day of training, Sasha was looking forward to chatting with Milla and perhaps going to see Agent Cruller again. But when he sat down to eat (another goddamn burger), she was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Milla?” he asked when Oleander sat across from him.

Morry shrugged. “She said something about not being hungry and then floated over that way,” he answered, pointing towards the reception area where they held regular campfire ceremonies.

Sasha frowned at the burger in front of him. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry, either. “I’ll go check on her.”

“Leaving all the kids in my care again, huh?” Morceau shook his head. “Not surprising.”

“Take my food and we’ll call it even.”

Oleander grabbed the burger greedily and plopped it onto his own tray. “Works for me! Have fun smooching.”

He didn’t bother to argue against that and quickly made his way towards the fire pit. Sasha had attempted to reach out to her telepathically, but found that she had closed her mind off to him. Most likely she’d closed off her mind to everyone, which left Sasha very concerned. It was rare that she felt bad enough to do that.

Sasha could smell the campfire, and as he turned a corner in the woods, he could clearly see Milla sitting alone on a log across from the flames. She was staring at them intensely, looking like she’d been hypnotized. He walked over, making sure to step on a twig or two so she’d know he was coming. It wouldn’t benefit either of them if he surprised her.

“Hi,” she said quietly as he sat down on the log next to her.

“Are you alright?” Sasha asked, ignoring the nudging at the back of his brain that said he was sitting too close.

“Fine.” She paused, then sighed. “No. Sorry. Not fine.”

He leaned his arms onto his knees and clasped his hands together. “If you’d like to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”

Milla chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then closed her eyes and sighed again. “Lili really enjoys fire.”

Ah. He wasn’t surprised to find out that that was the source of her anxieties. “She does.”

“She accidentally, um…well, I think it was accidental.” Milla stumbled over her words a bit, rolling her hands around in the air. “Set one of the boats on fire. I put it out right away and gave her a stern talking-to about it, but…” She sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s still difficult sometimes.”

Sasha watched her carefully. It’d been a long time since they’d had a discussion about Milla’s issues with fire, especially since she’d been doing so well in avoiding triggers. They both knew going into the camp that there was a possibility she’d experience something that might remind her of harder times. “It’s always going to be at least a little difficult,” he said softly.

Milla took a deep breath, trilled her lips, then leaned over and plopped her head against Sasha’s shoulder. “Yeah, probably. A girl can dream, though.”

He closed his eyes and tried to will his heart into beating normally, especially when he noticed that Milla had scooted slightly closer to him on the log. It was very obvious to him, even in all his lack of social graces, that his partner was looking for some modicum of physical comfort. He was perfectly capable of providing such a thing, even if he’d have to work himself up to it.

So Sasha raised his left arm under her long hair and grabbed her left shoulder, holding her against him. That felt right. Sort of. It felt like the right thing to do.

Part of him realized the irony that he was doing exactly what Morceau had joked about, but he didn’t particularly care.

She reached out and grabbed his other hand with hers, absentmindedly stroking her fingers along his palm. The feeling was slightly intoxicating, but he knew that was just because it was Milla doing it.

“It’s true that these sorts of things will happen,” Sasha started. “What matters is how you react to them. It sounds like you did everything right, and hopefully Miss Zanotto won’t make that mistake again. But if she does…you’ll be there to help her.”

Milla squeezed his hand and leaned her head back just a little so she could look directly at him. “You always give such good pep talks, darling. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Sasha glanced down at her, nervously making eye contact. This was an extremely intimate moment for them that he knew he’d be filing away once it was over. If he was a different man, in a different time or place, maybe he’d even think that this was a perfect moment to kiss her. He would not be doing that, of course, since it would be insanely inappropriate. But the thought lingered in his mind nonetheless.

He did allow his hand on her shoulder to travel upwards and he lightly ran his fingers through her bangs. He’d noticed Milla doing that to herself when she felt nervous and thought it might be helpful.

She didn’t say anything about it for a moment before finally speaking up. “Mmm. That’s nice.”

If that wasn’t encouragement, he didn’t know what was. Sasha continued to run his fingers through her hair, gently stroking the side of her head while he did so. He didn’t want to stop, especially not when she was enjoying it. And he had every intention of keeping this information for the future…for the next time she was having a bad day.

She hummed satisfactorily as he continued his ministrations, and Sasha was suddenly even more aware of how close the top of her head was to his. He thought about how nice it was to hug her and hold her and play with her hair.

The crackling of the campfire and the chirping of crickets were the only noises in the reception area - far enough from the main lodge to block out the sounds of campers eating and chatting. Sasha could sense that there were no other minds nearby. He could sense that her mind was as relaxed as she said.

He leaned over and very lightly placed a gentle kiss against the top of her head.

It wasn’t anything special, especially not when she kissed him on the head or cheek anytime she wanted. But it was significant for him, as Sasha had not kissed anyone in a very long time. Not since he was extremely young.

It felt…nice.

Milla paused in rubbing her fingers against his palm for just a second - maybe even a half-second, hardly noticeable if he wasn’t paying such close attention - and then the relaxed aura radiating from her mind completely disappeared. He was about ready to let go of her and apologize when Milla pulled away and stared at his face, one of her hands still cradling his own.

“You’re such a sweet man,” she said softly.

Then, without a moment of hesitation, Milla wrapped her hands around Sasha’s head and pulled him closer to her. He’d gotten used to it (sort of), knowing that she was about to place a kiss on his cheek.

It was slightly different than usual, though. Milla’s lips came to an interesting part of Sasha’s face - technically on his cheek, but so close to his lips it made him feel more nervous than ever. He could feel the corner of her lips caress the corner of his own and he knew it didn’t quite count as a real kiss, but it was certainly something more. It was certainly something different.

Milla lingered there for a moment longer than usual and then pulled back, smiling brightly.

Sasha stared at her, not sure what to do or say. Her hands were still on the sides of his head and he knew that if he was going to kiss her, there would be no better opportunity. It felt right. It felt like she wanted him to. It felt really, really perfect.

But then she giggled and let go of his face and Sasha felt any semblance of confidence fade away. Not that there was much to begin with.

“I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have worn such a dark shade of lipstick today!” She took off one of her gloves and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, giving it a lick before rubbing it against Sasha’s face. Right where she’d kissed him.

He pouted. “That’s not-” He paused as she swiped the handkerchief over his mouth for a second. “-...sanitary.”

“I think you’d rather have a little spit on your face than let Morry see you with a giant lipstick stain,” she said playfully.

Sasha couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t want to argue with that. He wanted to just sit and stare at her for an hour without interruption. But they had jobs to do and he needed to focus. Once she removed the stain, the goosebumps on his arms and sweat down the back of his neck would be the only evidence that anything had happened between them.

And his memories, of course. He would have to take a few minutes before falling asleep to do some mental organizing.

Milla pulled her handkerchief away from him and smiled. “There we go, handsome as always.” She put it away and stood up, brushing dirt off her legs and butt. “I’m actually feeling a little hungry now. Want to go back to the lodge?”

He stood up with her and adjusted his sunglasses. Hopefully she got the entire stain and not just part of it. The light of the campfire wasn’t the brightest, after all. “Sure. I could eat.”

She smiled and started levitating towards the lodge - Sasha quickly followed after her. He was glad she seemed to be feeling better.

X

Milla had an excellent last few days of camp.

After her little intimate - and undoubtedly romantic - moment with Sasha, the rest of the week had gone by like a breeze. Everything felt lighter. Lili didn’t set anything else on fire, the other children were excitable but falling in line and paying attention. It was great! Only one semi-disaster in an entire week of camp? That felt like a win.

The parents were arriving to pick everyone up - Truman picked up Lili, though Milla knew that he’d be taking her to the airport soon to spend the rest of the summer with her mother. Most of the other parents were fellow Psychonauts so she had a nice, brief conversation with Agent Bubai before he left with his daughter.

Milla waved goodbye to everyone as they got in their vehicles, then turned to see Sasha and Morry chatting off to the side. She hadn’t heard most of their conversation, but managed to catch the end.

“Alright, alright. You did a decent job. I’ll back off. Happy?”

“Delighted.”

Milla floated over and smiled at them. “It’s so sad to see everyone go.”

Morry nodded thoughtfully and Sasha shrugged, which was about the response that she expected.

“It looks like everyone had a nice time, at least,” she added, hoping to get a little more conversation out of the two of them.

“You bet they did! And I’ll-hey!” Oleander interrupted himself when he noticed Truman in the parking lot. “Zanotto! Wait a sec!” He rushed away from the two other counselors, almost slamming into Truman’s car as he tried to stop him.

Milla chuckled and glanced over at Sasha. “What were you two talking about?”

“Something idiotic,” he answered, adjusting his sunglasses again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “It’s always something stupid with him.”

“That’s not very nice, darling,” Milla responded. She chose not to comment on the cigarette - he’d been smoking a lot less since they came to the campgrounds. Maybe the fresh air really was good for him.

He shrugged, taking a long drag.

Milla watched him standing there and suddenly felt very nervous. Sometimes it was hard to get a read of what Sasha was thinking, even when she had full access to his mind. She wanted to tell him something very important that could potentially alter their partnership for the foreseeable future, but she felt very strongly about it and the longer she put it off, the worse it would be.

She took a deep breath and tugged her hair behind her ears. She was probably overthinking things.

“Um, Sasha…” she started, then took a deep breath to calm herself down. “I need to talk to you.”

Milla could feel him start to get nervous, probably feeding off of her own nervousness. And then that made her even more nervous.

“About what?” he asked, though there was a slight hesitation in his question.

She clasped her hands together in front of her and stared out at the parking lot, not at Sasha’s face. Just in case he was unhappy with what she was going to say, she didn’t want to see his expression. “I…I would like to keep coming here. Regularly. Maybe even full-time, I don’t know. It depends how often the camp runs next summer. And I…I hope you do, too, but if not, then…” She tugged at the end of her hair. “Then we’ll have to put our partnership on hold during the summers so I can focus on the camp. I really feel like I can do a lot of good here and I’d like to pursue it.”

Having spoken her mind, Milla squeezed her eyes shut and hoped he wouldn’t be mad. Or worse, be sad.

“Camilla.”

She opened one eye to find him looking at her with a semi-confused expression. That certainly wasn’t what she’d expected.

“I’d be happy to come back here, too. I had a good time this week,” Sasha said, taking another drag of his cigarette. “With you. And the campers. It feels…rewarding, I suppose, to teach young minds.”

Milla smiled brightly. She’d been so pessimistic about what his response might be that she hadn’t even considered the possibility of him wanting to come back with her. Despite all of his bickering with Morceau, it seemed like the children and the outdoors had a very positive effect on him. “I’m so happy to hear that!”

He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned away from her. “It’s also nice to get away from the Motherlobe every once in a while. It can get noisy over there. Too many people bothering me. I could see myself building a small lab out here.” He paused and looked back towards the rest of the camp. “Maybe somewhere underground.”

She reached over and locked arms with Sasha, squeezing tight. “That sounds perfect, darling. Like a little home away from home.”

Sasha smiled at her. “So long as you’re here, too,” he said softly, almost too soft for her to hear.

But she did hear it, and she loved hearing it, and she wanted to hug and kiss him so badly it hurt. Instead, since she was a rational adult who did rational things and would not make everyone uncomfortable by smooching her partner in front of their coworkers and campers, she simply leaned into him and enjoyed the feeling of being so close to him.

Morceau was right. Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp was a great idea.

[raichoose-moved]

His hands shake, he doesn’t notice anyone around him, and he hasn’t slept.

Maybe I’ll run away, Kabuto thinks. Maybe, if I just run to the Sound Village and work at their orphanage, and if I make it clear that I’m not operating as a Shinobi and that I just want to help those kids for a while, Konoha will decide it’s okay after all, and I can stay there, and I don’t have to live in the Leaf anymore. Maybe I should just go. Hell, maybe, I can leave a Shadow Clone, and Urushi won’t even notice I’m gone until I’m out. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe -

[whisker-biscuit]

Silent as the Grave Chapter 7: The Happy Camper Orphanage

Fandom: Sly Cooper

Summary: Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life.

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It’s getting real cloudy outside, Sly notices. He lies his cheek against the car window and watches houses go by without really seeing them. Weather is a weird thing to focus on, but it’s a neutral one. It’s an easy one to think about compared to everything else. His hands ache to pull out his dad’s cane for comfort, but he can see Campbell glancing at him through their rearview mirror when they think he doesn’t notice.

He’ll have to wait until it’s safer, when he’s no longer being watched. His fingers twitch against his knees.

The social worker meets his gaze on accident, and it’s enough to make them clear their throat and speak. “I understand how hard this must be for you, Sylvester, but I promise that it’ll get better soon.”

Oh, how he loathes that thing they’re calling him. “John” had been frustrating but understandable, because he had no way to tell anyone what his real name was, and the kind nurse had said it was a temporary thing to keep him safe. But now, everyone knows who he really is, and they’ve decided it’s safe enough to finally move him out of the hospital. Now, they’re doing this deliberately and it’s awful.

Even worse, he recognizes that last name. James. That had been his mom’s last name. He had once seen the hyphenated name on her driver’s license and asked her why it was like that, and she’d told him that she had chosen for it to be that way. Not because she was ashamed of the Cooper name, she’d promised him, but because she wasn’t a master thief like his dad, and it didn’t “feel right”.

Well, it definitely doesn’t feel right to be called anything other than Sly Cooper, and while he understands much more what his mother meant now, he’s already starting to dislike her decision. Because these adults are trying to use her last name to erase his and his dad’s, and he hates everything about it.

Campbell must have still been talking, but Sly only tunes back in to catch the tail end of it. “-phanage is a lovely place. I’m sure you’ll get settled there just fine.”

They wait, perhaps for a response. The raccoon doesn’t know why they even bother.

“...Well.” The lizard coughs and breaks eye contact to look back at the road. “At the very least, I’m sure you’ll find your voice again there.”

Sly doesn’t want to ever find his voice again if it means having to talk to Campbell, or those inspectors, or anyone who isn’t his parents. He wraps his arms around his duffel bag and stares out the window as silence fills the car once more.

They reach the far end of town where it’s more countryside than anything. A large, lone building stands tall at the top of a hill. It looks like an old farmhouse, painted in faded beige with a brown roof and a gated back property.

A wooden sign sits at the bottom of the driveway: Happy Camper Orphanage.

Sly’s stomach flips in place.

“Here we are!” His social worker says way too cheerfully for such a run-down place. “Come on, let’s not keep the headmistress waiting. She’s a very busy woman.”

The kit steps out of the car and immediately his father’s hat slides down over his eyes. He pushes it up with one hand as the other holds his bag close, and follows Campbell up the hill and onto the front porch. He can feel eyes on him from the many windows of the house, but they’re too dark to see back into. Apprehension makes his fur prickle.

An adult wearing a name tag with a smiley face answers the door, exchanging low words with the social worker with only a quick glance down at Sly before leading the two of them further into the house. The raccoon catches glimpses here and there of other children in the rooms they pass, but most are busy and don’t pay the visitors any attention.

They stop in front of a door that’s a little bigger and fancier than the others they’ve seen so far, and the staff member disappears after one more acknowledging nod to Campbell. The lizard crouches before Sly and gives him their most serious look.

“Now, Sylvester, I’m afraid I can’t stay very long,” they say as if it’s going to break his heart. He simply stares at them. “So I’ll only introduce you to the headmistress of this lovely place before I have to go. But I’m sure she’ll take good care of you, alright?”

Sly blinks, startled by the abruptness of this information, and can only give a dazed nod that Cambpell smiles at. They stand back up, knock on the door, then hold it open for the kit when they hear a muffled “come in”.

An elderly bird sits behind a desk, eyeing both guests as they enter. A nameplate sits straight in front of her and reads “Mrs. Puffin: Headmistress” in polished metal perfection.

She looks down her beak at Sly, and he knows immediately that he’s not going to get along with her.

“Mrs. Puffin,” the lizard greets her, cordial and brief.

“Campbell,” she responds in a scratchy, snobbish voice, confirming the raccoon’s initial impression. “Is this him, then? Sylvester James?”

“Yes,” comes the reply without even the slightest pause, and Sly feels his resentment grow. “Sylvester, this is the Happy Camper Orphanage’s headmistress, Mrs. Puffin. She’s owned this place for almost thirty years now. Isn’t that amazing?”

What’s amazing is the staring contest Sly has found himself in with her, but he doesn’t break eye contact until she does to look at the social worker.

“I’ve already received his case file. Is it true he can’t speak?”

“Can’t or won’t, we’re not sure which, but yes.”

“Hm.” She realigns a few papers on her desk and looks back at the raccoon. “I’ll take it from here, Campbell. I understand you’re very busy today.”

The social worker nods, gives Sly an awkward pat on the head - making the oversized hat slip again - and takes their leave with barely more than a goodbye.

Mrs. Puffin fixes the glasses balanced on her face as the kit does the same with his cap, and squints. “Let me make a few things clear, Sylvester.”

The way she says the fake name sounds like someone making fun of a snake’s accent. The kit hates it even more, now.

“While you are living at this institute, you will be abiding by my rules, understand?”

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond before listing said rules off.

“One: you will obey me, your social worker, the staff, and every other adult you see here. There is no room at the Happy Camper Orphanage for disobedience and disrespect. Two: proper manners, at all times. I will not tolerate slovenliness from any child under my care. It gives off a terrible impression, and no one will be willing to adopt you if you look like a heathen.”

Sly’s hands clench into fists, shocked not by the rules but by the mere suggestion that he could be pawned off to even more strangers. Adoption might as well be a word in a foreign language.

“Three,” Mrs. Puffin continues without noticing the raccoon’s reaction, “we have in-house schooling four days a week, and you will keep up with your studies, no matter the circumstances. Four: you are to get along with all the other children and work out any issues on your own. Do not expect me or the staff to take care of your problems for you. Frankly, we have bigger concerns than such petty little squabbles.”

Finally the woman stops speaking for a moment to stare down her beak at him, as if his mere existence is an irritation.

“And number five. Children,” she folds her hands and leans forward against her desk, “are meant to be seen. Not heard. Boys, in particular, are loud and messy and disobedient, and need to be corrected often.”

Sly wonders why she ever bothered to be the headmistress of an orphanage if that’s what she thinks. He wonders how a person like this was ever allowed around children to begin with.

The bird pauses, as if expecting him to complain or protest. When all he does is stand there and watch her silently, the feathers around her neck fluff up like she’s pleased that he’s docile but irritated that he isn’t proving her right. She looks back down at her precious papers.

“Your admission paperwork says you used to be an only child. You are probably used to having everything to yourself, aren’t you? Clothes, toys, your own room, even.”

This time when she pauses again, Sly gives a cautious nod. Mrs. Puffin sniffs the air.

“Not anymore. Here at the Happy Camper Orphanage, you’ll be expected to share everything. It builds character and keeps you from growing spoiled rotten. Not to mention, we don’t have the luxury of so much space like you’re obviously used to.”

The raccoon isn’t sure what kind of face he’s making, but it’s enough to make the old woman scoff and wag a scolding finger at him.

“I don’t want any attitude from you, Sylvester James. You’ll find rather quickly that such a revolting display won’t help you here.” She taps a pen against the papers on her desk. “Fortunately for you, a vacancy has just opened up in Room 8. I expect your things to be properly put away within fifteen minutes, as it is almost time for dinner and you’ll be joining us in the cafeteria for an official introduction. Off you go, now.”

She makes a shooing motion with one hand, not giving him anymore attention nor even bothering to direct him in the general direction of his new room. Sly wastes no time getting out of her office.

The hallway is dim and empty. He stands there with his bag, looking left and right, trying to guess which way to go while pushing down the awful feeling of panic bubbling up his throat. It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s always considered himself independent for his age, and now he has a chance to prove it.

If his dad could see him, he’d obviously be so proud.

The raccoon squares his shoulders before picking a direction. A few corner turns and he stumbles onto a row of closed doors with numbers on them, and releases the breath he hadn’t realized he’s been holding. Room 4, Room 5, Room 6. He chose the right way.

Room 8 isn’t locked, so Sly carefully opens the door and finds that there’s no one there - another relief.

The carpet is some weird, dull kind of reddish orange. That’s the first thing he notices as he enters his new room. The second thing he notices is that there are two sets of bunk beds lining opposite walls, and one of the bottom bunks is very obviously occupied. The blanket is rumpled and the space underneath the bed is lined with packed bags and shoes and other things.

None of the other beds seem to have been taken, so the raccoon tentatively steps to the other bunk bed and tries to lift his duffel bag onto its top bunk. It’s heavy, and he can’t quite find his balance, and he’s too busy trying to keep the hat from slipping down over his eyes again to hear the door swinging a little further open.

A shadow covers him from behind.

Sly whirls, heart pounding, only to come face to face with a wall of pink. His startled eyes rise to meet the big blinking ones of a hippo.

“Uh, hi,” offers the new boy standing barely two feet from him, along with a shy little wave.

Sly lifts a tentative hand in response.

“Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to.” The way he says it implies that this isn’t the first time that’s happened, and the raccoon suddenly notices how he’s shrunken back as if to make himself smaller. “Did you, um, need help? WIth your bag, I mean.”

He hesitates, tightening his grip on the strap. The hippo plays with his hands and watches him anxiously.

“I won’t look through it or anything, promise. I just wanna help.”

It sounds sincere enough. With more than a little uncertainty, Sly hands the bag to him. He hefts it easily over his head and places it gently onto the top bunk, then gives an awkward smile.

“My name’s Murray. Are you my new roommate?”

The raccoon nods.

“Cool! What’s your name?”

He wavers, knowing what he wants to tell the other boy, but he’s unsure if it’s going to bring the headmistress’ wrath down on him. That would really, really suck on his first day here, especially if he’s going to try to keep his head down until he can get out of here. The notebook digs into Sly’s leg where it sits in his pocket.

Then he decides to screw that, because this is his name, darn it, and he’s not going to let anyone scare him into pretending otherwise.

So he pulls out his notebook and thrusts it forward. It’s already open to the most important page, and he watches as Murray leans down to squint at the words. His lips move, sounding it out to himself, before he looks back at the kit.

“Sly…Cooper?”

It’s an utter joy to hear his name said out loud again. Sly holds his notebook tight against his chest and nods vigorously. His delight seems to affect the hippo, who beams right back at him.

“Nice to meet you, Sly!” He lurches forward as if to shake his new roommate’s hand; a towering form of pink that takes up all space.

Sly tenses and takes a step back with wide eyes.

Hurt flashes across Murray’s entire face. His hands drop limply to his sides and he’s right back to making himself seem small again.

In any other instance, the raccoon would have felt bad about causing that reaction. But this boy is much, much bigger than him, and he’s far too close, and he’s blocking the way to the door and the carpet is red and his dad is -

“Hey, are you okay?”

Sly jolts back to himself, right out of a closet and into a room with a hippo looking at him like he’s crumbling into a million pieces. Maybe he is. His heart is pounding and his body is trembling and his head feels light. But he can’t let himself fall apart. Not here.

It’s not safe here.

The kit takes a deep, shaky breath, and nods. Yes, he’s fine. Look how easily he can calm himself down. He’s not even quite so faint anymore. Isn’t that proof that he’s fine?

Murray doesn’t look too convinced, but just as he starts to say something else, a bell blares out from the hallway, startling them both. The hippo jumps practically three feet in the air.

“Oh jeez! We’re gonna be late for dinner!” He scrambles out of the room. Sly follows only because he has no idea where the cafeteria is even supposed to be, much less how to find it from here, and the last thing he wants to do is get in trouble right off the bat.

And it’s a good thing he decided to do so - this building is bigger than it looks from the outside, or at least is built like a maze. Several twists, turns, and sets of stairs later, Murray steps into what’s probably the biggest room of the orphanage with the raccoon close on his heels. There’s a good twenty or so kids already there, in a line for food that borders two whole walls. Both boys step into it without anyone giving them much attention.

Murray looks back at Sly like he wants to make more conversation, but the raccoon wasn’t in the mood for it the first time. He avoids his eyes and scans the room instead, hoping the other boy will get the hint.

He does. Sly sees him sort of slump and turn away, dejected, and it makes him exhale in silent relief.

Five minutes and a tray of food later, the kit finds the emptiest, quietest corner to sit down and hopefully eat in peace. All these other people make him nervous, even the ones his age, and he keeps his back to the wall while he watches the activity in the cafeteria. He can see Murray sort of looking for him, but the hippo gives up way too easily before sitting at the end of another table halfway across the room.

Sly still feels a little bad about being so cold to the other boy, but he doesn’t want to make friends at this terrible place. The fewer attachments he makes, the better, because there’s no way he’s going to stay here any longer than strictly necessary. Just enough to get his feet back under him, figure out what all that…weirdness in his head is and get it under control, and make a plan to leave forever.

As for where he’s going, well. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Not long into the dinner period, he spies Mrs. Puffin’s hair bun bobbing as she steps to the very front of the room where everyone can see her. The chatter quickly dies down when she holds up a bell and rings it loudly.

“I have an announcement to make today, children.” The bird searches the cafeteria until her eyes land on the little raccoon doing his best to remain invisible. “Sylvester. Please come up here.”

She gives him a sharp look and points to the space on her left, where she obviously expects him to join her. Sly’s face burns as a sea of gazes turn to stare at him the moment he stands.

Making his way across the room sets off every alarm in his head. Thieves aren’t supposed to be the center of attention. Thieves aren’t meant to be seen at all. He resists the very powerful urge to bolt as he finally reaches the woman’s side and feels her feathery fingers settle heavily on his shoulder.

“This is Sylvester James, our newest resident,” she says. Sly stares at the far wall above everyone’s heads. “Make sure he feels welcome, and show him how things are done around here.”

The bird prods him forward in dismissal, and he marches back to his corner as best he can without looking like a scared wimp. Already he can feel the difference in the way the others are looking at him - some disinterested, some intrigued, and some downright mean. His dad’s hat slides down over his eyes as he takes his seat, and he pushes it back up just in time to catch the gaze of a group of bigger boys who are very obviously sizing him up.

He already has enemies. This is why thieves aren’t supposed to be seen!

Food doesn’t sound even remotely appetizing anymore. Sly pushes his tray away as nausea builds in his stomach and wraps his arms around his midsection, absolutely miserable. The moment everyone is dismissed from dinner, he rushes straight back to Room 8 before anyone can so much as say a single word to him.

Without brushing his teeth, without changing his clothes, without doing anything but fighting back tears, Sly closes the door and climbs to his bunk, pulling his father’s cane out. He burrows under the blanket and wraps himself around it, absolutely miserable. Grief and pain hit him hard in an unforgiving wave.

He doesn’t hear Murray entering the room. He doesn’t see him hesitate, standing below his bunk, before reluctantly getting ready for bed himself. He doesn’t notice anything but the feel of the cane and the smell of his dad in his hat.

He falls asleep with wet cheeks.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: We did it!! We finally made it to the orphanage after eight chapters and *checks watch*.......3 years! Ehehe, well, the important thing is that we got there at all, right? And we've finally met Murray! Bentley will be coming soon too, don't you worry.

Mrs. Puffin didn't have a lot of information beyond a few mentions from the comics, so I took inspiration from Trunchbull from Matilda with a dash of Ms. Hannigan from Anne. She's absolutely awful and I adore writing her.

I will forever adore the Sly 3 animation of little Sly's head being too small for Connor's hat.

[kingncp]

Reworked Nick's backstory a bit

bear with me, this could be a long read depending on if I shorten or go into detail on some matters lmao. Nicolas Augustine Johnson was born in Seattle, Washington on July 8th, 1987 to Anthony (Tony) Johnson and Samantha Delacroix-Johnson. Living in the US for his first 3 years, the family moved to Paris, France in 1990 to get away from a few of Tony's old enemies becoming more active again and looking for ways to get back at the semi-retired master thief. A few weeks after his 7th birthday, Nick found himself an orphan after both his parents were killed by a group of individuals Tony crossed, having sent most of the powerful mafia behind bars while he reaped their hauls. Being sent to the Happy Camper Orphanage, Nick was very distrusting of others, especially adults, and was quickly regarded as a problem child for how often he got into fights with the other kids who tried to pick on him for his scarred ear and family history.

He met Sly while trying to score some snacks in the kitchen one night after going without dinner due to Ms. Puffin's orders after causing another fight. Sly, being 3 years older than Nick, was quick to keep an eye on the younger raccoon during their stay at the orphanage and was the only kid who seemed to get along decently with the troublemaker. It would take some time, but after awhile, Bentley and Murray joined in being the only kids who got along with Nick. As they got older, Sly took Nick under his wing basically, helping to sharpen his basic moves while also working on other aspecs of his abilities so they both could become master thieves together. It wouldn't be until Sly and the gang, aged 18, would take off for the Fiendish Five, would Nick officially come along as a member of the gang. Being the youngest at 15, he was limited in his abilities in comparision to Sly, however, his undercover work was already better, due in large part that he was able to get into his role much quicker and throw his voice better than Sly. During the Fiendish Five Heists, Nick's primary role was helping to gather information on each of the bosses' locations from the inside... however, Sly would handle the tasks of taking down each of the bosses himself. It wouldn't be until the Klaww Gang Heists, would Nick finally get more fieldwork as the secondary thief of the group. Working alongside Sly on the field to help Sly once again gain back the Clockwerk parts while also working on taking down Neyla. At 18, Nick was more filled out and now stood slightly taller than Sly... but sadly his natural abilities still paled a bit in comparison to Sly's, leading to an inferiority complex to develop shortly after Sly's and Murray's betrayel and capture by Neyla and The Contessa. After working with Bentley to free the gang in Prauge, Nick overworks himself to exhaustion and actually ends up breaking his foot... leading for him to be shutdown after Bentley's discovery that he was hiding the injury from the others. It was also during The Klaww Gang heists did Nick's feelings for Sly change to be more romantically, with the two thieves sharing a few moments before messily breaking things off as Sly became more serious about persuing Carmelita. Shortly before the Kaine Island heist, Nick's forced to get surgery on his improperly healed foot and finds out that it wont ever be the same, leading his style of thieving to be more strength and stealth rather than acrobatics and agility like Sly's. Now 21 and more naturally gifted in strength, Nick became the gang's main muscle along with it's main undercover agent after Murray abruptly left the gang... Upon the start of Kaine Island's Heist, Nick's inferiority complex returned strongly now that Sly was still the main thief while Murray had rejoined and was once again the main muscle... adding in the other members, Nick was tempted the most by Doctor M's talk about betraying Sly... however, he ends up helping Sly take down the mad man, only to feel blindsided when after escaping the Island with the others, he learns Sly doesnt wish to be found after leaving his cane and mask... causing Nick to temporarly become the leader... before also leaving after being unable to handle the expectations of being the Cooper Gang's top thief. Instead, he goes solo... managing to do well for himself and even eventually finding his own love interest and starting a family before semi-retiring himself. During the Le Paradox incident, Nick found himself thrown into the Gang's mess as he was asked to join to help Sly save his family legacy. Still feeling bitter and hurt at Sly's earlier decisions to leave the gang, he took a bit of time to forgive Sly... but the two managed to work out their issues just shortly before Sly's untimely disappearance. Nick, 27 at the time of Sly going missing, joins the gang once again to help search for the missing thief... before once again going solo after sly's recovery. This is just a bare-boned version of his backstory, I can go into details more but I posted this more as a way for

those unfamiliar with him to get a general sense of his past and his current relationship with the gang.

[galactic-dragoness]

Elevators (Me & You), Outkast + Sly Cooper

Synopsis: Sly Cooper and the gang are approached by someone they once knew at Happy Camper Orphanage - a calico cat named Chase. At first, the trio are skeptical, but Bentley and Murray are won over after Chase tips them off on a score. Sly is still suspicious, but his friends disregard his attempts to convince them that Chase is untrustworthy, and instead invite him to join their gang. However, all is not at it seems, and friendships are put to the test. Will Chase become a new member of the Cooper Gang? Or will Sly try to get in the way?

[kanri-tea]

The TDD get punted into the world of Demon Slayer via illegal microphone, starring:

Ramuda as Tanjiro

Jakurai as Nezuko

Ichiro as Zenitsu

Samatoki as Inosuke

None of them know what's going on and they're all disasters (they blame Ichiro though, this anime-esque shit has got to be Ichiro's fault). The only mostly responsible one has been turned into a demon and Ramuda is panic-screeching in his mind.

Ramuda and Jakurai live together. Jakurai runs a small cliniic and orphanage which he's been running for quite some time before he stumbled upon a child Ramuda and took him in.

Ramuda was not a happy camper when he comes to and comes face to face with Jakurai, but since they're in the Edo period ("We are in the Taisho era, Amemura-kun" "Ugh, whatever! Close enough!"), he figures it'll be safer if he sticks with the old man.

Ichiro is an orphan that gets picked up by Kuwajima like Zenitsu, but no electrocution for this boy. He's a diligent student, but can't seem to really pick up any other of the Thunder Breathing forms other than the first one because of plot device

Samatoki grows up in the forest as well, but he is a civilized person no matter what anyone may say. Plus, he has some experience of survival cooking thanks to Rio. His Beast Breathing is a combination of influence from the wild animals that he grows up with and memories of Rio and Jyuto

Ramuda returns from selling coal when Muzan kills everyone at the clinic and turns Jakurai into a demon, paralleling canon with Tanjiro and Nezuko. Jakurai doesn't recognize Ramuda at first, mind still stuck in the in-between of human and demon. He doesn't eat anyone but he does nearly attack Ramuda when he gets back but regains his mind at the last second.

After an encounter with Giyuu and Jakurai proving that he's still very much himself, Ramuda travels to find Urokodaki with a child sized Jakurai in a basket. It is very awkward for both of them and Ramuda promises that he'll find a way to turn Jakurai back into a human

Ramuda is very much panicking and screeching in his mind because what the fuck is going on and why the fuck do demons of all things suddenly exist and Ichiro, this is totally your fault, what is this, an anime???

Jakurai is a very tired (tm) and kinda pissed that he has to rely on Ramuda now. He's also a little mad about having to be the size of a toddler most of the time

Ramuda learns Water Breathing while Jakurai starts rehoning his assassin skills. He might be a healer now, but with how dangerous this world seems to be, well, someone has to watch Ramuda's back.

Along the way, Ramuda figures out that he can use his microphone's ability along with Water Breathing. His sense of smell is also ridiculously good for some reason, which is helpful to find demons, he supposes. Jakurai on the other hand, finds out that not only can he use blood demon arts, but also use his microphone's ability, except it's more like he can help others regenerate/heal fast. They're both really weirded out, but hey, at least its useful???

Ramuda ends up meeting Ichiro on his way to Tsuzumi Mansion. To say that they're surprised would be a huge understatement. Ichiro had assumed that he was alone while Ramuda had assumed that it was only him and Jakurai. Jakurai is conveniently asleep in the box when this happens and it slips Ramuda's mind to tell Ichiro. Ichiro is slightly suspicious though, because his sense of hearing is really good and he's pretty sure there's a demon in there, but Ramuda wasn't saying anything???

Samatoki is trapped in Tsuzumi Mansion and cursing himself for rushing in without a plan when he encounters Ichiro with a civilian kid. While surprised to see each other, they nearly start fighting before being reminded that hey, they're kinda in a demon lair right now.

When Ramuda, Ichiro, and Samatoki finally reunite, it's a bit bittersweet because on one hand, they're really glad they're not the only ones here, but on the other hand, why are they in this weird ass world?

Also, Ichiro and Samatoki question, if the three of them were here, where was Jakurai?

"Uhhh... Yeeeah... About that... The old man is kinda, uh." Ramuda sweats his way through this conversation, "I'll tell you guys when we get to the Wisteria house, 'kay?"

When they finally get to the House with the Wisteria family crest ("Holy shit, that old lady is creepy." "Stop being a baby, Ichiro.") Ramuda finally reluctantly reveals what happened to Jakurai.

"So, about the old man. We kinda ended up together," Ramuda starts explaining, "Like he ran a clinic and everything and I lived there for a while."

"Eh, did he stay behind?" Ichiro questioned, confused to where this conversation was going. Samatoki is nodding next to him, confused.

"About two years back, we... the clinic got attacked by a demon. Muzan," Ramuda breaths, "And the old man..."

Ichiro and Samatoki's eyes widen. Was Jakurai dead?

"... Jakurai got turned into a demon," Ramuda finally admits. He turns towards the box and raps his knuckles on it.

"Yo, old man. Are you coming out or not? You've been asleep in there for ages!"

The door of the box swings open, a tiny hand revealing itself before its owner crawls out, purple hair splayed everywhere.

"What," Samatoki breathlessly stares, "the fuck."

A toddler-sized Jinguji Jakurai stares back, muzzled mouth quirking down and an unimpressed look plastered on his child-like face.

Both Ichiro and Samatoki are very, very surprised. They quickly agree to help Ramuda find a way to turn Jakurai back into a human. If they happen to spend a couple minutes cooing over how cute he looks, well that's no one else's business, now is it?

They learn that while Jakura has retained his mind, his body is still very much like a demon's. He can't stand in sunlight or eat human food. His energy comes from sleeping and while he can speak, but only when he's in his adult form. He's more or less non-verbal as a child.

Ichiro stews in his thoughts in the meantime. He's fairly sure this is the plot of an anime he saw once... He keeps quiet though because he's not 100% certain, but did the illegal mic seriously punt them into an anime?

Jakurai is very unhappy with what happened at Natagumo mountain and is even more unhappy with being stabbed multiple times while in the box while being put on trial. Honestly, what sort of barbaric trial is this? Hitoya would be so dissapointed.

When Sanemi tries to bait Jakurai using his own blood, Jakurai just sends a "I'm very exhausted and exasperated" look at Ramuda

"Oyakata-sama," Jakurai hears someone scream, "I will present to you the ugliness of what we call demons!"

He's mildly cranky at being woken up by all this chattering and being suddenly stabbed, but even that isn't able to distract him from the sudden scent of blood seeping into the box.

Sweet... But, no, Jakurai had sworn that he would not fall prey to these demonic temptations.

"Hey demon! It's time to eat! Sink your teeth on this!"

As the door of the box is ripped open, Jakurai frowns at the rudeness. The blood is tempting, yes, but more importantly...

Jakurai tilts his head to look at Ramuda. Are they serious?

No fucking duh! The look Ramuda shoots back is scathing and furious, though more because he was being restrained by the man with the snake then at Jakurai.

"Shinazugawa-kun, was it," he sighs as the people watching gasp. He's well aware that he's rather tall, even in the modern age.

"You shouldn't needlessly injure yourself," he grabs a roll of bandages and starts wrapping the young man's wound. The boy looks rather shocked and angry, but Jakurai didn't really have the energy to really care.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

Jakurai hears the confusion around him, but chose to ignore it. Giyuu and Ramuda could deal with the questions later, he decided, Jakurai was already exhausted from Natagumo mountain.

"Wait a second!"

Jakurai turns, finishing up wrapping the young man's arm.

"I thought the box was stupidly heavy, but you're like the size of a toddler normally," Ramuda starts, "Have I been basically carrying a shit-ton of medical supplies?!"

Jakurai rolled his eyes, shooting the most unimpressed look he could at the pink-haired gremlin, "Well someone has to take care of your injuries, no?"

"You - you stupid old man! I can't believe anyone calls you saint! Aaughh!! I hope you break your back!"

"That would most assuredly be very difficult to do with my regeneration. Though, I suppose object permanence is rather difficult for children like you."

Maybe they should tone down their arguments a little... nah. It effectively derails the meeting, which was the entire point of Ramuda's outburst, of course.

When Ramuda and Jakurai finally arrive at the Butterfly estate, they find Ichiro with shrunken limbs ("The medicine sucks, but it's nothing worse than what sensei's given me before...") and Samatoki with a crushed throat ("Fuck... I was so weak..."). Ramuda is also in a lot of pain. Jakurai manages to recover fairly quickly with lots of sleep and spends a lot of their recovery time assisting the nurses.

Ramuda tries to figure out why he can do Hinokami Kagura and is very confused. Jakurai tiredly reminds him that it's probably because he used to watch Tanjuro, a former patient who lived at the clinic, do it. While Jakurai only knows about Hinokami Kagura as a ritual dance, he is reminded that the sick and frail man had died and left behind a pair of strange-looking earrings.

When training begins, Ichiro, Samatoki, Ramuda are motivated and stubborn to a fault, so they manage to learn Total Concentration: Constant. Ramuda also has a conversation with the Butterfly pillar, Shinobu ("Please do your best, Ramuda-kun. When I see you doing your best in my stead, I feel much better."), it makes him think back on his relationship with the Chuuoku. These people... They care a lot and they're fighting for their lives and humanity every day. They aren't even comparable to manipulations and cruelty of the Chuuoku, and Ramuda wonders a bit if he even wants to go back. Sure, there's Gentaro and Dice, but... here, he's not sick. He's not living day-to-day wondering if he'll outlive his usefulness. Here... he's able to stay at Jakurai's side.

Jakurai is the one to become friends with Kanao is this universe, because let's be honest here, Ramuda is really not the type to be nice out of the goodness of his heart, and Ichiro would probably do it, but he's kinda still recovering from nearly becoming a spider.

"You should listen to your own heart," the purple-haired demon hums. He's talking to her, but Kanao doesn't know why. The demon - Jakurai, she thinks - had been taking time out of his day since he'd recovered to talk to her.

She doesn't respond often. Her coin doesn't land on tails that often, but it doesn't seem to bother the tall demon. And tall he is, his height easily looming over her, but there's an aura of kindness and gentleness that tells Kanao that this demon wouldn't hurt her. It's a strange thing to think about a demon.

It's Jakurai's last day here. The other demon slayers, including the one that Jakurai travels with is leaving. Kanao isn't sure, but she thinks she might be a little sad about it. The demon has been good company, she has to admit to herself a little.

"People," she hears him breathe, "are driven by their hearts. If you live by your heart, your heart will grow stronger than ever."

Jakurai smiles down at her. It's gentle and warm and his eyes crinkle a little bit at the edges. He ruffles her hair a bit, a familiar motion over the course of the month.

She knows it's time for him to leave when he gets up. He leans over and straighten outs the butterfly in her hair, giving one last kind smile.

"Live by your heart's desire, Kanao. And stay healthy."

With that, he leaves, leaving Kanao behind contemplating his words. Could she really live like that? Live by her heart's desires...? There was something in the kind demon's words and smiles that made her think that maybe, just maybe... she could.

Samatoki and Ramuda's first impression of Rengoku is that he's a weirdo. Ichiro on the other hand thinks he's kinda cool. Jakurai is asleep and therefore doesn't care.

When they're put asleep by Enmu, they end up dreaming about their respective division (sans Jakurai). It's also a bit of a harsh awakening that they've all gotten pretty complacent of this world and that they need to find a way to get back to the modern age ASAP.

When Rengoku is nearly dead because of Akaza, Ichiro, Samatoki, and Ramuda are inconveniently a little bit attached to the strange Hashira. As a desperate last resort, Ramuda gets Jakurai to try and heal the man. After all, they were all sick of the people they cared about dying and if this could save him...

"There's no point in shouting now," Ramuda hears the hashira call out from behind him. His vision is blurry from tears, and distantly, he recognizes the resigned tone in the man's voice. Rengoku Kyoujuro was had already accepted his death as inevitable.

"The wound on my stomach is opening," the man tells Ramuda, "And your injuries aren't minor either."

Samatoki is watching silently and Ramuda can see out of the corner of eye that Ichiro is making sure Jakurai doesn't get killed by the sun.

Wait. Jakurai. The old man could heal Rengoku, right?

It takes a moment of shouting to Samatoki and Ichiro to convey his idea, but even as Rengoku is staring at them with a single, intense eye, they manage to get Jakurai and Rengoku into the shaded trees of the forest nearby.

"Ramuda-kun," Jakurai quietly says, before focusing his attention on Rengoku's injuries. It's not a promise, Ramuda knows, but Jakurai is a doctor through and through. He'll do his best to ensure that Rengoku survives, he knows this.

Rengoku is watching them confused, a couple of protests having spilled out, but he's ignored in favor of getting Jakurai over as quickly as possible.

Ramuda has seen Jakurai heal a couple of people over the years with his ability, but it's always amazing to see it like this rather than through a microphone.

"Hypnosis Microphone: Medication," Jakurai breathes, and as his hands glows, the injuries beneath start to mend themselves. It starts off slow, but as color returns to the hashira's cheeks and breathing evens out, Ramuda knows that it's working. Knows that Jakurai is doing everything he can to heal the man.

There's going to lots and lots of questions later, Ramuda knows, but for now he's glad. He's glad that Jakurai is here, that Ichiro and Samatoki are here, that he's not alone.

He's glad that he doesn't have to see another person that he cares about die.

[scrollypoly]

Are any of these coherent? I feel like I'm just kinda rambling about this a bit 🤭

All of these ender beings get sustenance from various life forces, whether it's neurotransmitters, energy from different activities or processes, or just normal food. The closer the source is tied to a life function, the more it provides. So they usually feed off of certain emotions that tie to neurotransmitters or will just straight up eat a human if they're desperate. As humans do, they each have a different taste and craving, like splendor feeding off of serotonin as the happy chemical, and slender feeding off of cortisol as the stress chemical. They can eat normal food or animal meat, it just takes greater quantities to satisfy them. Teleporting and using their extra limbs uses up more energy as well, and can easily weaken them if they don't have a reliable food source. This won't kill them, but it will make them miserable and desperate. Not a good time to be a proxy when your boss is starving.

Their lifestyles revolve around their feeding habits. Splendor feeding off of serotonin means he needs to keep his food source happy. This translates to him finding joy in helping others and keeping others content. The orphanage he stays in takes lost or runaway kids and takes care of them til they're ready to leave and be on their own, or go back to their families. His proxies consist of counselors, doctors, and other caregivers that helps the kids. LJ and Sally also stay with him. He didn't use to have such a production, in the beginning it was rough. Being not human, he didn't understand the basic human needs that children needed to survive, and that to be happy, they needed to be well taken care of. It was only when he caved and basically kidnapped a pediatrician that he was able to actually help the kids the way they needed to be helped, and that person crash coursed him on human things. She was his first proxy and his is most reliable person.

Slender feeding on cortisol means a more malicious lifestyle. Usually he stalks around and feeds on low levels consistently, feeding off of campers, hikers, or the local villages and small towns. His proxies will occasionally bring back people for him to feed off of too, in exchange they receive protection from people and other supernatural things. His proxies usually don't last long though. Not because he mistreats them, he's one of the few that doesn't. But it's a hard job mentally, to hunt down other humans and bring them back to essentially torture them to feed your boss. Slender treats them well because he knows that's the way to make them stay longer. He can also hire other demons, but he prefers humans that are too scared to disobey him, over a demon that can get cocky and try to go against his rules and orders.

[extraneousdominomask]

Sly Cooper turns 18 and leaves Happy Camper Orphanage, 2002, colourised

[villainwaifu]

Jason finds his s/os sketchbook FULL of drawings of him. Some before they met and some after they met.

Hello, hello! Thank you for being my very first fic ask, horrorstreet! I hope you like this! ^^ It, ah...gets a little NSFW at the bottom. ><

It is also gender neutral, and...I apologize if a couple of the paragraphs are a light gray? Couldn't figure out what I did or how to fix it...

2,242 words (This is a small drabble for me…>>;; )

Jason x Reader

Happy Accidents

Jason knew he shouldn't...but...it was just lying there. Open. Tempting him. Maybe just a peek...you were out getting some more pencils and things from town…you'd never know. He reached out...but just before his fingers could skim across the textured page, he hesitated. Your disappointed face came to mind...and so did his mother's. She would never condone going through someone else's belongings without their permission. Or, at least, someone he actually cared about. The horny campers he killed didn't count- that was foraging.

With a heavy sigh from behind his hockey mask, Jason's hand dropped down to the bed. But...when it did...he caught the edge of that pesky drawing journal of yours, sending it to the floor with a clatter and a rustle of paper. Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no! All the loose pages dispersed all across the cabin floor! Curse his big, clumsy hands! At the very least, though...he was glad it happened here. This was the first cabin they had started to remodel...the roof was fixed, and so were the floors. They weren't splintered or rotten from mold and mildew, so there was nothing to ruin those precious drawings of yours… Now if only he could avoid stepping on them with his damp shoes to pick them up…

Jason bent and grabbed the drawing nearest to his shoes...and he nearly dropped it again. Was that...him? ...Yeah...there was no mistaking it. It was him...as a child. Smiling and splashing in the water on the bank of the lake. How did you know what he looked like as a kid? And when did you draw this? When he was out foraging? You'd asked if you could draw him before...but you always showed him your beautiful sketch when you were finished... He'd never seen this before, though...

Curious, he picked up the next nearest sheet to find a picture of him as a kid with his mother. A really pretty one done up like a fancy painting. How you could make him look...less like a monster and more human was beyond him… Jason gingerly ran his thick finger over his mother's face in the picture, eyes softening. You really did a good job on the details...she looked just like he remembered her to. A melancholic smile pulled at his lips as he gently set it aside after a moment and plucked another off the floor, finding a more recent picture he actually knew about. It was a side-facing picture of him at the edge of the lake with his mask on and bloody machete in hand. He carefully lifted another up, finding a more modern picture of him asleep at the base of his favorite tree...but, again, he'd had no idea you'd drawn this. How many more of those did you have..?

Twenty-seven. That was the total number of sheets scattered across the floor...and, of those, he'd only known about eight. Eight. The rest…were different renditions of him as a child, a teenager, and as he was now. Even more puzzling than your different drawings of him...were the dates he'd found scrawled on the backs of them. Most were drawn after you'd become his prisoner...then his friend...and lover. But some…were dated way back before they'd met. How long did you know about him before you became his? Was this something you had planned? Uncertainty and wariness gnawed at him as he stared at the paper-filled book in his hands. Surely...you weren't using him. Were you..? His chest hurt just thinking about it…

"Jason," you called, a big smile on your face as you slipped in the cracked door with a few bags in hand. That smile and excitement died down after you spotted him on the bed, shoulders hunched in and head bowed. He barely lifted his head your way in acknowledgement. "Hey...what's wrong..?" You dropped off the bags at the end of the bed and immediately went to his side, plopping down so close to him on the bed that your legs touched. There was a time he would have flinched away from you...but that time was long passed. He was cradling something sapphire blue in his large hands. "Oh...my drawing book?" The loose pages weren't stacked in as neatly as they were before, some sticking out at odd angles. "Did it fall?" He nodded once. Silly man. Getting all out of sorts over a little accident… "Thank you for picking it up for me." You gave him a bright smile, trying to cheer him up a bit...but his spirits didn't seem to lift. He was still hunched into himself. "Jason...what's wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything…" Okay, maybe not talking, exactly...their conversations mostly consisted of him pointing and grunting, while you played charades trying to figure out what he was trying to say. But you knew him now...and you knew him well. So...it couldn't be too hard to figure out…

"Nnnhh," Jason grunted, opening the drawing book and pointing to one that was dated months before they had met. Then at another a year before that. What does this mean? He cocked his head at you with a frustrated sigh.

"Oh...the dates...you saw that…," you visibly hesitated. How to explain it without sounding...crazy. And to do it relatively quickly. He was already shifting with impatience… "I...I'm afraid you won't believe me even if I explained it…"

"Hrrr," he growled. Even if you explained it? So you had no intentions of explaining yourself to him. What this meant. For the first time in years, Jason felt sick. He shoved the book into your hands and stood with another rumbling growl. He'd decide what to do about you later...right now...right now he needed to go kill something.

"Wait!" You caught his hand as he started to stalk off, your heart beating wildly in your chest. Jason stopped...but you could feel the tension stiffening his hand and wrist. Why did it feel like everything was crashing down around you..? Like this was it if he walked through that door? Panic made the words come tumbling from your lips. "The first time I drew you I was five years old." You felt your cheeks heating as his head tilted slightly to the side. Slowly, achingly so, he turned back to you. And you could just barely see his furrowed brow as he looked down at you, clearly confused and wanting answers. You let out a breath, anxiety building up in your chest as your fingers curled around Jason's much larger hand. There was no more hiding it now…

"I...I had dreams when I was little," you started, then paused. "Well, actually, I've had them most of my life. That's just when they started...and I didn't know until I was older that they were about you." You felt like you were rambling, cheeks burning hotter as you released his hand, glad he wasn't making a beeline for the door now. "I, uh...I started drawing you when I had the dreams...some were pleasant...and others...nightmarish." You shook your head, trying to shake off old feelings and fears. "But I was never afraid of you." You looked back up at him, locking eyes with his to try and show him you were being honest. "I saw all of the cruelty...I watched you drown...and I watched the lake bring you back." Heat started to build in the back of your eyes and the bridge of your nose. No! You were not going to cry right now!

Sniffling and looking down at your lap, where your fingers tightened around the drawing book, you continued. It was too much to think of all he'd been through… "I watched it all over and over in dreams over the years...and even the after times, when people disturbed you. It always made me angry. Why couldn't they just leave you alone..?" You gave a heavy sigh, wiping at the traitorous wet edges of your eyes. "For a long time, I thought you weren't real. Just someone I'd made up… I've probably drawn you hundreds...maybe even thousands of times. Most of them are in storage boxes in a unit that's most likely been sold by now." Your lips curved downwards. Some of your best works were in those boxes...but it's been months since you paid on the storage unit. It was inevitable. You chose this life after a couple of months of being his captive, leaving everything else behind. Living with the real Jason was so much better than anything you could ever draw...and you could always make more drawings...

"But I found out you were real when I was fifteen," you continued. "And I looked up everything that was left of newspapers and police reports...so much of it was vague. And there were hardly any pictures besides bodies being carried off and before pictures. They never put your picture in the papers…and that made me mad. You were the one who was victimized, you were the one who suffered...but it was always the instigators who got their faces plastered all over the papers." Your hands were gripping your book so tight your knuckles were white, fingers hurting a bit from straining them against the book. "I watched the news for this area for years while I learned how to hike and forage...and finished school. I'd worked and saved back some money, so I was able to get into an apartment after I got kicked out of the orphanage at eighteen." Nobody wanted a kid drawing and obsessing over a big bloody man...

"I worked...but I prepared to come here. This was my goal...to come here and meet you. The man I've dreamed about all of my life. The man I've drawn since I knew how to draw. The man I've fallen in love with over and over again in my dreams and in reality." Your cheeks were red hot by the end, your gaze a tad shy as you peered up at Jason. Sure, you'd confessed your love before...but never quite like this. With everything bare and raw, laid out before him. He knew everything now...and it was terrifying…

For a long moment, Jason just stared down at you. That wasn't the answer he'd expected. Far from it. And it was a lot to process all at once… You had dreamed of him..? Since you were little? It was strange...but no stranger than a lake reviving a drowned boy. Hm... If he learned anything over the years, it was that water holds and carries memories…it remembered when he couldn't anymore. And it brought back memories of his mother's face to soothe him and keep him going… Did it carry those memories to you? Did it bring you here because of his loneliness? Because it knew you would be good for him..?

He really didn't have much time to think on it. You looked so fraile and terrified...like you would crumble if he so much as touched you. And you...you said you loved him. You fell in love with him in your dreams...and reality. His heart felt warm as it jumped in his chest. He still didn't understand how someone as beautiful as you could love something like him...but...he loved you, too. So much it hurt. Jason knelt down in front of you, cupping your face in his large hands. A smile found its way onto his covered face as you closed your eyes with that little sigh of yours, leaning into his touch. He pressed his forehead to yours with a gentle hum, smile widening as your eyes fluttered open and you pressed your forehead back against his, rubbing your nose against the mask. Eskimo kiss. Jason chuckled. Your way of kissing him with his mask on was still amusing...and endearing.

"I love you so much my heart hurts," you whispered, feeling his hands slide down to your waist. He picked you up with ease and laid you back on the bed, crawling up over you. You raised your arm up, intending to push your drawing book up on the side table. Jason grabbed the book, helping you push it securely onto the table, his fingers dragging down the length of your uncovered arm after. You gasped, goosebumps erupting all down your arm. His hand kept on down until it was at your chest, groping and pinching at your nipple. Your back arched as you unclasped his mask and set it aside, his lips on yours just as soon as he was free. Hands gripping, pulling, grasping, pinching, his hard length grinding against your core. He didn't wait very much longer before sheathing himself deep inside of you. Your foreheads were pressed together, eyes locked as you shared the intimacy of that moment, that very first thrust in and pause, breaths intermingled, while your body stretched to accommodate his girth. You marvelled at how this all came of one tiny little accident as he pulled out and thrusted back in, taking his time and making love to you. One happy little accident that brought a hidden topic to light and brought you two so much closer...

- End -

[swampythesweetsketch]

Do you ever think that Bentley's more expressive destruction in later games is like a resurgance of his childhood?

Like, he was born and raised in a orphanage. Even if Sly and Murray were there, he had to face the brunt of orphan life upfront. You'd think he'd already be okay with rough housing and fighting dirty. But we get... germaphobe and skittish nerd?

I'm calling it now- Bentley was the meanest sob when he grew up back in Happy Camper with no problem in the closed area and only began the nervous nerd as Sly dragged him out into the real world.

Then he got even more dangerous because "I ran into and was crushed by the beak of an immortal owl hellbent on rage and jealousy; and I only lost my legs. What else is life going to do? Kill me?".

[cooperific-aus]

Drew this, decided to share it since it is a AU.

HISTORY INFO

✪Sylvia was born first child, but was not considered to be the next Cooper. Her dad remarried in hopes of having a son. She was left orphaned after her dad and step-mom died to the Fiendish Five. Step-mom would've lived if she  hadn't tried fleeing the closet where she and Sylvia were hiding.

✪Bernedette was born to the all-gender Happy Camper Orphanage but was removed into the all girl orphanage “Bouquet of Little Ladies". Miss Puffin refuses to let her visit her brothers.

✪Mary was born into a flurry of life that she can't remember when admitted to the orphanage at a young age. She was an early bloomer and was bullied for her large stature.

✪The three escaped the orphanage by dressing as boys and stealing a laundry van that the orphanage headmaster revamped for her poker night buddies.

✪Their names were chosen as it was from a cartoon they really loved as kids.

✪The three found out they are not strictly female or straight. “Sly" is a genderfluid lesbian, "Bentley" is ace non-binary, and "Murray" is a bi ftm trans!

[whisker-biscuit]

Silent as the Grave: Epilogue

Fandom: Sly Cooper

Summary: Here, two months later...

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The door to Mrs. Puffin’s office slides open and a little raccoon tiptoes inside. He shuts the door behind him as quietly as he can, then heads for the window on the opposite side of the room, armed with nothing but his cup phone. Opening it just a crack, the kit reaches through and drops one metal cup just past the sill. When it hits the grass outside with an audible thunk, he nods to himself in satisfaction before closing the window and making a beeline for the trash can next to the headmistress’ desk. String trails him all the way there, colored by crayon to match the carpet so it will go unnoticed.

It’s easy as pie for him to climb inside and hide, folding his arms and legs to his chest with plenty of room to spare when he lets the lid of the can come down above him. Just for good measure, he grabs a handful of crumpled papers and sprinkles them over his head, hoping that will be enough that the blue of his dad’s hat won’t be noticed if anyone opens the trash can.

Then he leans back and waits in the dark. The only sound he makes is the beating of his own heart.

Not long after, the office door opens again, and the raccoon holds his breath as he hears Mrs. Puffin’s heavy footsteps pad through the room. She settles down in her office chair, obvious by the creak of wood and plastic, and begins scribbling away at her desk.

Sly holds perfectly still in his hiding place, listening to the old woman work. Every now and then, she grumbles something to herself, and once even gets up to walk around the office for whatever reason. His heart hammers in his chest as he hears her pass right by the trash can, and for a terrible moment fears she’s going to notice the string on the floor, or see it leading from window to can.

But she doesn’t notice it; nor does she take off the lid to throw something away. She goes right back to her desk and her work. The raccoon would sigh in relief, but he doesn’t dare to do even that. He simply stares at the slight crack of light where the lid meets the rest of the can, willing the daylight to go away as fast as possible.

A thief must be silent. A thief must go unnoticed. Sly just has to wait for an hour, according to Bentley, until Mrs. Puffin locks up and leaves for the night, and then he can get to the most fun part of the plan. He pretends his dad is watching him right now. He can practically hear his voice reminding him to be patient. “Haste makes waste,” he’d say, “and gets you wasted.”

Sly hopes he’s proud of him.

The headmistress moves around the room again, and this time her perfume is close enough to make him involuntarily wrinkle his nose. He wishes his dad had taught him how to make time pass faster in his head, because he really, really wishes he could do it for real.

It’s going to be a long hour.

The Happy Camper Orphanage is quiet. Children and adults alike are asleep, day staff are packing up to go home for the night, and the evening janitor is getting cleaning supplies from the closet on the first floor.

Only a little bit cramped from not moving at all, Sly stares at the crack he can’t see anymore as Mrs. Puffin switches off the lights and leaves her office. He stays still, waiting until he hears the lock turn and her footsteps disappear down the hall. Then he brings his cup up to his mouth.

“Bentley, you there?” He whispers. “Come in!”

There’s no response. Carefully, very carefully, he opens the can lid and peeks out into the dark room. The string suddenly pulls taut from the direction of the window, so the raccoon tries again.

“Bentley, this is Sly! Do you read me? I’m in position!”

Outside, having just pulled up at that very moment, Murray taps his toes at the pedals of his bike, watching as Bentley sits behind him in the tethered wagon with the other cup held up to his ear. He seems to visibly relax at Sly’s voice, which Murray can barely hear.

“Excellent! My ingenious cupunicator is flawless!” The turtle can’t help but exclaim about his invention. “As long as you hold onto your end, we’ll be in constant contact…and with my advice, you can’t fail.”

The two of them see Sly open the window and give them a thumbs up before disappearing back into the office. His escape route has been made. Bentley grips the side of the wagon, excited and terrified all at once.

“Begin Operation: Cookie Connection!”

Inside, the raccoon wastes no time. Looping the communicator around his waist, he puts his hands against Mrs. Puffin’s desk and pushes with all his might, tongue sticking out in determination. It scrapes backwards inch by inch across the floor towards the bookshelf, way too slow for his liking. They only have five minutes from the time that the headmistress left to when the night janitor shows up to start cleaning - they’d timed it for weeks now - and every second counts.

Finally, the desk is close enough to the bookshelf, but just as Bentley predicted, it’s not tall enough to jump off of to reach the top of said shelf. Sly runs for the floor lamp by the door and hauls it between the desk and the bookshelf. He steps back to admire the path he’s made.

“Okay, Bentley, everything’s ready,” he says, confident that he can reach that top shelf where the cookie jar sits just begging to be stolen.

The turtle doesn’t share his certainty. His voice comes out a screech over the cupunicator. “You don’t have the cookies yet? We’re out of time! We have to scrap the mission!”

Sly doesn’t know how long it took to set everything up, but he can’t hear anyone in the hallway, and that means he still has plenty of time. He climbs onto the headmistress’ desk without answering his friend, determined not to let the gang down when he’s so close to their goal.

He takes a running leap off the desk and grabs the lamp’s chain. It clicks the light on as he swings back and forth, nearly falling as he makes the mistake of glancing at the ground below.

“Yi!” He squeaks, losing his nerve for just a moment before pushing the fear aside and launching himself towards the bookshelf. His hands catch the edge of the very top of it, sending a thrill of adrenaline through him.

As the raccoon grapples for footholds, struggling to push himself up the rest of the way, his hand closes around his cup.

“Okay! I’m in position, sort of…” Sly grits out, and resists the urge to look down again. The bookshelf sways dangerously, making him gulp. “Y’know…this is pretty high up…”

His friends share a nervous glance at the status update. Murray starts biting his nails as Bentley double checks his calculator clock and nearly has a heart attack.

“Sly, we’re out of time!” He calls, seeing they are most definitely past the five minute mark. “Get out while the getting’s good!”

“Almost there…” The raccoon murmurs to himself as he finally gets one knee onto the top of the shelf.

Sitting next to the cookie jar a moment to catch his breath, Sly takes his dad’s hat off to wipe his brow. Having put the cupunicator back at his belt while he was climbing, he hadn’t heard Bentley’s most recent warning. The light of the lamp illuminates his goal, but just as he puts the hat back on and starts to reach for it, a sound makes him freeze in place.

Uhh…” He swallows, hearing distant footsteps, and hopes it’s just his imagination. “Is that you guys I hear in the hall? I thought you were going to wait outside?”

The turtle’s voice comes in loud and clear this time, sounding as alarmed as he feels. “What do you mean? We are outside!”

Those footsteps stop just outside the office. Sly feels his whole body go cold.

“Uh oh…” His tone is distant and detached, even to himself. His hands twitch against the smooth surface of the cookie jar’s lid. “Then that must be the janitor at the door…”

It’s the worst possible outcome. It’s everything they feared. Getting caught red-handed on their very first heist, with no way to get away fast enough. Sly fixes his dad’s hat on top of his head and feels his heart plummet as the door’s lock clicks open.

But one member of the gang hasn’t given up just yet.

“That’s it! I’m pulling the plug on this myself!” The hippo begins pedaling as hard as he can, as Bentley wraps his arms around one side of the wagon with a silent squeak. “Hang on, Sly!”

Sly hears Murray’s voice through the window, and that’s all the warning he has to brace himself as the string around his waist snaps tight.

“Huh?”

The very next moment he’s flung straight off the bookshelf and right out the window.

“WHOAH!”

He grabs the string tether with one hand and his dad’s hat with the other, pulled along like a fish on a line as Murray drives them away from the house and down the hill. They pick up so much speed that the hippo loses control of the pedals; they spin out of control all on their own while he fights just to steer the bike.

“B-Bentley, where are the brakes on this thing?” He cries.

“Th-That was my project for next week, I’m afraid!” The turtle exclaims, so overwhelmed he’s practically in shock.

They hit a harsh bump and it’s enough to derail the bike completely. Murray barely rolls out of the way as it flips onto its side, and catches Bentley in the nick of time as he gets flung out of the wagon, head and limbs tucked into his shell.

Sly comes flying in like a bullet, tumbling head over heels into the now-empty wagon. He groans, dizzy and blinking as he sits up with his hand still gripping the edge of his hat.

“Sorry, guys…” Murray whimpers, feeling scrapes all over and worried that his friends are hurt.

The raccoon squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Y’know, we’re all pretty lucky…”

“After that disaster?” Bentley squawks, finally pulling out of his shell to stare at him like he’s crazy. “What do you mean?”

Sly opens his eyes as the stars disappear from his vision, then gives the rest of the gang a huge grin. He leans forward and pulls his dad’s hat off his head, holding it out to them upside down.

It’s filled with cookies.

“...Lucky I inherited my dad’s fast fingers!” He announces, full of pride. Bentley’s and Murray’s eyes go wide with amazement. “Dig in, fellas!”

“Hooray!”

As the three of them settle down in the wreckage of their getaway vehicle, enjoying the spoils of their first successful heist, the raccoon puts his hand on his hip and takes a vicious, satisfied bite of chocolate chip. He looks up into the starry night sky. The moon is bright and full and clear, and Sly feels a swell in his heart.

He knows he’s made his dad proud.

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A/N: And with that, history was made.

We did it. I'm honestly in shock. When I started this fic, I had no idea how long it would get nor how long it would take to get there. There were definitely times I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to finish it, even as we were nearing the finish line. Thank you all so much for your overwhelming support, kind words, and patience. I doubt I would've ever been able to push through to the end without so many wonderful people reading and supporting this fic.

If you're craving more of the gang before they became the world-famous thieves we all know and love, rest assured there will be a sequel. I can't really say when, because I want to get a few other projects and unfinished works knocked out first, but it WILL happen, and hopefully it won't take another 3 years lmao. In the mean time, keep your eyes peeled because I'm not done with the Sly series by a long shot :)

[kingncp]

Nick's updated backstory!

Realized I haven't posted his new backstory so here it is... A VERY rough idea of how he fits in with the gang... Like Sly, he came from a long line of thieves, the Johnson Clan, and lost his parents at a young age, only 7 years old when his father and mother were killed for their roles in nearly wiping out a mafia located in France. Having no surviving family members (that he knew of) he was sent to the Happy Camper Orphanage where he met Sly, Bentley, and Murray... however, he wasn't the most approachable in the orphanage due to having a fierce temper and trust issues. Sly 1: Eventually befriending Sly and the gang + leaving the orphanage with them, Nick, only 15 while the others were 18, very much played the annoying little brother role, eager to prove his worth yet constantly biting off more than he could chew, resulting in Sly having to rush in and save him multiple times. Sly 2: Nick, now 18, worked mainly as an intel gatherer and uncover agent of sorts. Infiltrating areas and using his smarts and sharp tongue to blend in with guards, officers, or staff. He was also able to step up and be the main thief when Sly, Murray, and Carmelita were captured... but suffered a foot injury during the lumberjack events, causing him to be relegated to the sidelines once more. After Clock-La was taken down, he left the group to rehab his foot, and could no longer do gymnastic-like moves, instead focused on becoming a stronger fighter. Sly 3: Now 21, Nick returned to his role as intel gathering while also aiding Sly and Murray out on the field, usually to help Murray with heavy lifting or to assist Sly with sneaking into an area and knocking out the guards. After Kaine Island, Nick takes over Sly's role as the leader for a brief moment before stepping down and starting a family with his wife, his feelings toward Sly growing sour after learning he left the gang to be with Carmelita... thinking Sly simply tossed the gang away to be with her. Sly 4: Now 25, Nick begrudgingly agrees to help Sly and the Gang takedown LeParadox, once again taking over as the secondary thief and fighter of the group. His feelings towards Sly slowly improve as they hash it out, only for Sly to vanish. Afterward, he works as the main thief of the gang to try and find any clue about Sly's whereabouts, letting Bentley work as the leader of the group. So, yeah... once again, a very rough idea on how Nick fits amongst the gang. He's now mainly a playful rival of sorts but is willing to help out whenever they need it.

[galactic-dragoness]

Idea # [holy shit I’ve lost track]

Sly Cooper Yesterday! AU

Or an AU where Carmelita gets into a freak accident and wakes up in a world where the Cooper Gang doesn’t exist. Sly and his family never become master thieves, Sly never went to Happy Camper Orphanage and met Bentley and Murray, and only Carmelita remembers the things before the accident. However, without the Cooper lineage, this world is worse than the world before. Clockwerk may not be alive, but the Fiendish Five, Klaww Gang, and other villains are very much alive and around the world committing their crimes.

Carmelita is still a detective inspector in this AU, but it falls onto her to pick up the pieces. She tracks down Sly, Bentley, and Murray and tries to convince them that the world she woke up in is not right. Meanwhile, Carmelita faces the dilemma that without the Coopers: the world just wouldn’t be the same.

[sirensandcoopers]

Sirens AU facts

Because I wanted to put down some facts about the Sirens universe and see what differs them from other RP AUs. Only Cooper Gang lore in this post.

Bentley’s father is Dr. M.

Dr. M (real name Chistoph Marrau) went against Conner Cooper when Conner abandoned him to escape from the Contessa with Jim McSweeney.

The Cooper Clan separated themselves from the Cooper Legacy after Conner stole their family heirloom and vault key to keep it to himself.

Sly was never taken in by the Clan because Conner’s siblings (Bernard and Aria Cooper) refused to let their brother’s blood ‘destory’ their families.

Bentley and Murray are step-brothers. Bentley’s mother and Murray’s father got together when hiding overseas.

Dr. M was not the last Brains of Conner’s gang, Hannah was temporarily on the team before everyone went their separate ways.

Murray’s mom (Marzie) left his dad a little after Murray was born. She died to a drunk driver when he was 6. 

Murray’s dad (Tony) did not know about his son’s situation until he got news of his ex’s death 5 years AFTER the car crash.

Bentley’s mom is Japanese-British! Dr. M is British.

Sly’s mom (Talia) was from the same town as Dr. M, her and Dr. M met Conner Cooper around the same time.

Talia Toffee and Christoph Marrau were supposed to get married to each other. But the marriage was called off when Talia’s family found Conner to be a more “financially firm” suitor.

Tailia tried to escape her turned-sour marriage with Sly when he was still a baby, but Conner took him and threw Talia out.

Talia had Conner’s second and third child, Fiona and Gial, a few months after she left Conner.

Murray is Scottish on his mother’s side and American on his father’s side. 

Murray’s dad was born and raised in Mesa City before moving over seas mid-childhood.

Dr. M was given the location of the Cooper Vault by Bernard Cooper after the death of Conner. The key wasn’t recovered, and they were under the assumption that Clockwerk gotten the key. But Sly instead kept the cane key when he went to Happy Camper Orphanage.

Bentley abnormally grew a full head of hair, thanks to having a mammal father (Dr. M). The hair growth on a reptile was weird, so Bentley shaved his hair during his early years to avoid bullying from other reptiles.