Shitposters Fanfiction🤑

Chapter 1: Theivery

The raccoon scaled up the stone wall. His claws digging between the rocks. He hoisted himself up onto the wall before jumping down onto the luscious garden filled with flowers. His black eyes darted around, scanning for any royal guards that might've been scouting around the garden. Luckily there were none, just as he expected. His ears perked up and he silently got out of the plantations and onto the path leading straight towards a door located in the side of the castle. He made it out and brushed off the rose petals from his ruffled fur and black clothes.

He made his way towards the door and took out an item that glinted in the moonlight. He put the item inside of the lock. Within seconds he heard an audible 'click'. Warm light shone onto him as he slightly pushed the door open. He squinted his eyes and peered into the room, scanning for any servants or guards. No one, perfect.

His paws were silent on the white marble floors, scouring the area. It was a hall lined with paintings worth a fortune. But that wasn't what he was looking for currently. His eyes were set on one thing, and one thing only. He trailed his paw along the frames of the paintings while walking down. It wasn't until he walked infront of two large doors did he stop. A small grin played on his mouth underneath the black mask he wore. Adrenaline pumped in his veins and his heart raced as he stared at the only thing that kept him away from what he desired. He put his paw in his pocket to fish out the lockpick.

Shit.

Fuck.

The raccoon's eyes widened in realization. He was so caught up at the thought of treasure that he forgot to take the lockpick out of the previous lock he used it on. He grumbled to himself, burying his face in his paws and dragging his eyes down in frustration. When he was finished with his small pity party he grunted and turned around.

Only to be met with two, large yellow eyes with the hugest fucking pupils he's ever seen on any living being. And their fur was pitch black, literally. He froze, his ears pinning back on his head. He'd been caught. To make matters worse he's been caught by a royal knight. The cat one, to be exact. God. He'd much rather have to face the fuzzy yellow worm thing. The royal knight held something in their paw. A lockpick. They dangled it infront of his eyes, taunting him. He chuckled nervously and took a careful step back from the knight.

"...fuck."

They lunged at him. He yelped and quickly scurried away from their claws. He did an entire 180° and sprinted further down the hall instead of exiting through the door to the garden. He refused to leave empty pawed. He tucked his tail close to his body and fucking ran. The royal knight was close already. The slight amount of armor they wore created a clanking sound—which was the only indication that they were following him. He turned a corner, hos hands griping at the wall tightly, tearing at the wallpaper. His claws scraped at the floor and he found himself in the kitchen.

A thought popped up in his head and he immediately went towards the countless drawers. He slammed open a drawer. Forks. An entire drawer of fucking forks?? He growled to himself and opened up another drawer. This time it was fucking spatulas. He hissed in frustration, his ears twitched towards any sound that may be the knight. Surprisingly there were none. He sighed a breath of relief but didn't spend anymore time before opening more drawers.

After minutes of searching he found what he was looking for. Knives. He took one without looking and held it infront of himself defensively. His eyes darted everywhere, towards any sound his ears picked up and even movement he possibly saw.

This was supposed to be quick ass break in! Not a fucking horror movie.

He hissed quietly and stepped foward. His tail swayed slowly behind him. "Where are you, where are you, where are you..." he mumbled to himself, his claws dug into the wooden handle of the weapon. He let out a quiet breath  and ran his paw through his fur. He tried to walk foward. Keyword: tried.

A paw had grabbed onto his tail and pulled him back. He yelped and stumbled foward. He snapped his head to the side. It was no other than the fucking cat thing. Except now, it had an axe. The raccoon grinned awkwardly and placed the knife back on the counter.

"Uh- I swear I wasn't going to-"

The Royal knight didn't let him say anything more before cuffing one of his wrists in a thick iron cuff. It forcefully dragged him out of the kitchen and back into the long hallway. He hissed and tried to wriggle out of its grasp, but his struggles were to no avail. Giving up, he just let himself get dragged down a flight of stairs. Not without a lot of complaints though. The knight seemed to completely shut out his whining, because not once did it even say or do anything to shut him up.

Smooth marble floors became hard, sharp black stone the further they both wandered down. The warm lights dimmed out into flickering touches as they reached the bottom. He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. His awkward grin dropped into a frown of realization as he took notice of the iron bars and chains. His nose crinkled at the awful tangy smell of who-knows-what.

A long, ear-bleeding screech was emitted from the door as the black cat opened it. The knight pushed him in before stepping inside of the cell itself. It unlocked his cuffs and walked out of the cold prison, locking the door leaving him alone in the damp, dusty place. He rubbed his wrists and looked around. He clenched his jaw and gripped the fur on his head, groaning. "Fucking hell," he hissed and growled to himself.