#ugh and bad bandit just like. Gets stuck in my head in the best way

[thosetwofirefighters]

5 songs I’ve been listening to on repeat

thank youuuu @mooshkat for the tag!! ❤️

I’ve been rotating between all of endless summer vacation and Wisconsin since they both came out so really. count those songs as the whole albums hehe :))

no pressure @lilbuddie @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @wheelsupin-five @paqerings @the-likesofus @ajunerose

[flightofaqrow]

arrested

qrow + Robyn ( @boundariestcbreak​​ )

Robyn didn’t want to ask what had happened, but how would she know why they were in the back of an airship in bolas otherwise? She could tell that something bad had happened, from the look on Qrow’s face and the bloody pin that she knew belonged to Clover clutched in his hands.

“You still with me, 5′o clock?” She asked softly.

warmth on qrow’s shoulders pulls him from his own mind. Robyn. he should focus on her. the one who has a pulse.

tears float in his eyes and words burn his tongue.

“yeah. …more or less,” a flat, dry voice answers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn didn’t want to ask what had happened, but how would she know why they were in the back of an airship in bolas otherwise? She could tell that something bad had happened, from the look on Qrow’s face and the bloody pin that she knew belonged to Clover clutched in his hands. But she didn’t know how to ask without hurting him worse.

Not to mention she was pretty sure she had a concussion, but she’d worry about that later.

“You still with me, 5′o clock?” She asked softly.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

like many times that night, qrow had a choice to make. he could have scuttled to grab Harbinger before the authorities came, but instead he went for the pin. now they have her - his precious blade, soaked in innocent blood for the first time in years, for the first time since her enhancement at beacon which washed away all traces of what he had spilled as a bandit.

he’s still not sure why a shiny memento felt more important at the time, but he doesn’t regret it. better to hold this than his flask, to run his thumbs over dirty metal to remember why he’s still fighting, than the cap to poison for forgetting.

warmth on his shoulders pulls him from his own mind. Robyn. he should focus on her. the one who has a pulse.

tears float in his eyes and words burn his tongue.

“yeah. …more or less,” a flat, dry voice answers. “how you feeling? took a pretty hard hit back there.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn looks steadily back at him, ignoring how doing so makes her head hurt as she waves his concern off to the best of her ability. Never has she been more thankful for her ability to keep a poker face than she is right now. Thankfully, she’s the one with the lie detecting semblance and not him, because it would be significantly harder to keep how she’s really feeling from him if that was the case.

“It was a little bump on the head. I’ve dealt with worse.” She says. This isn’t necessarily true, especially if she does in fact have a concussion, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s clearly going through a lot as it is, she has no desire to make everything he’s dealing with worse.

She does care about those around her, and Qrow hasn’t given her much reason not to be that way with him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“yeah, well, nothin’s too little when dealin’ with your head,” qrow grumbles. he doesn’t need a lie detector to know simple facts. Robyn seems to be able to look at him with focus in her eyes, and hasn’t fallen over or lost her dinner since rousing from unconsciousness, so those were good enough signs not the push the issue.

trying to think logically with his own head helps push out the flood from his heart.

“ugh,” he grunts at nothing in particular. there’s a whole list in his head of places he’d rather be right now than heading to atlas. but when his current endgame resides there, perhaps he can make use of the trip. his thumb strokes the pin in his hand yet again. “can’t believe we’re gonna be stuck in a damn interrogation while everyone’s fightin’ for their lives out there.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn gives a ‘fair enough’ nod. He’s certainly not wrong about that, after all. Head injuries are dangerous because of the fact that the brain is housed in there. Which is also why it bleeds so much if you get a head wound. Thankfully, though, as far as she’s aware, she’s not bleeding. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a concussion. Thankfully, though, Qrow doesn’t seem inclined to press the subject at all, and she’d be lying if she said she isn’t grateful for that fact.

She blinks at him as he grunts. When he speaks, she supposes that his grunt makes sense. “Neither can I.” She agrees. “My Huntresses will look after everyone, Qrow, don’t worry.” She says, and she means it, because she knows them nearly as well as she knows herself. “Even with me not around to call the shots.”

They’d all do anything for the people of Mantle, herself included.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

she should be getting her injuries checked out before much else, anyway, but these might be extenuating circumstances. there are things he can do something about, and things he can’t, and neither getting Robyn to talk if she doesn’t want to nor treating someone’s brain is part of his skillset. not his current objective.

his shoulders sink even further. relying on other people isn’t something he’s great at, but it’s the best they’ve got for now. and the Huntresses weren’t rookie pushovers when he met them last. he’ll have to trust her word.

“that’s a little reassurin’ at least. but there’s still only so many of ‘em.”

not that two more people could handle the whole of the city, but two more huntsfolk could at least save how many more lives? they’ve already lost… so much…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn nods. She knows that she should probably be offended that he thinks the knowledge that her huntresses are down there protecting people right at this moment is only ‘a little’ reassuring, but she can’t blame him. After all, he doesn’t know them like she does. She removes her hand from his shoulder, worried that keeping her hand on his shoulder for too long might make him uncomfortable.

“They’ll do everything they can.” Hopefully they could get all of this cleared up soon, and go back to help.

The only problem with that was, Robyn still wasn’t entirely sure what had even happened in general. She’d gotten knocked unconscious and when she woke up, Clover was dead, Qrow was in restraints and she was being put into them as well.

“Anything I should know, going into the ‘interrogation’?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow can hear the protectiveness in her voice. but this had nothing to do with skill or faith and everything to do with numbers. even still, he placates with a return nod to settle the discussion, “i know they will. they’re good huntresses.”

the feel of her hand had actually faded to the point he hadn’t even thought about it until it was gone. he’s not sure what that says about either his own state or how comforting it had really been. but it’s fine.

his brows furrow at her question, any solemnity left changing to stern seriousness. hands close around the clover pin once more, obscuring it from thought and view. he really doesn’t want to relive and recount painful steps just yet, when he’s still processing himself, still trying to wring truth from nightmare.  

“no,” he insists. it would do no good right now, no matter how much he wants to tell her and how bad she wants to know. not to mention, they’re likely listening to every word they say right now, somehow.

“you were unconscious the rest of the fight. an unreliable witness. use that to get outta here as soon as possible. an’ on top of that, i got enough ridin’ against me on this one. definitely don’t need anyone accusin’ me of just fillin’ the blanks for you and biasing any testimony.” it would give them grounds to throw anything helpful to him right out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn smiles a little at his words, and nods. “That they are.” She agrees without hesitation. He has no idea how loyal they truly are. But then, why would he when he’s never interacted with them beyond possibly a few cursory exchanges in passing, if even that.

She wishes she could say his insistence to not tell her makes her feel better about the situation. Besides, it might be safer for them not to discuss what has happened, anyway.

He’s right, though-she was unconscious for the fight once the ship hit the ground, and she isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Fair enough.” She says softly. “Qrow, I’m not going to leave you. You know that right? Even if, when, I get cleared, I’ll stick around. You deserve to have someone in your corner.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he doesn’t.

he deserves nothing but exactly what’s coming to him. for what he did. what he didn’t do. all the should’ve’s and could’ve’s that exist in time and possibilities long gone, and their absence rends his head and heart open anew. he’s cursed to always be divided from the ones he loves.

he appreciates Robyn’s olive branch of friendship, even without knowing the whole story. she tells him everything he wants to hear when he needs to hear it most, but the truth is it just sits like more guilt in his gut, twists the dagger deeper; the truth is it doesn’t matter. her words choke him with the weight of promises that will only sink both of them, send them crashing right back into the ground from another metaphorical plane, and he doesn’t want to see even more blood on the snow. qrow has other plans, a personal mission to take on alone.

“don’t say that,” he shakes his head with a snarl, still volatile emotions getting one up on him again, “you need to get back to mantle, Robyn.”

and he needs to get to james.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn blinks in surprise when he snarls at her. “And I will. But we’re in the same boat right now and I’m not going to leave you here to deal with things on your own if I can do something to help.” They were bold words, she knew this, especially since she wasn’t even sure if she could do anything to help him. And it certainly seems like he doesn’t want her help. Really, she should just cut her losses now and move on.

She should, but she already knows she isn’t going to.

If he actually wants her to leave, to go back to Mantle right now, he’s going to have to make her, and that’s not something she thinks he’ll do.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little while longer 5′o clock.” She tries to keep her voice light, but she can feel a knot of nerves in her stomach like a fist.

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he still no longer looks at her, still doesn’t ease up or relax. qrow finds no solace in her insistence, no matter how much he wants to. fists clench tighter, feet press restlessly into the ground. the people of mantle might buy all those sappy platitudes, but qrow doesn’t.

he’s dealt with things on his own for several years leading up to this. he can handle himself. he doesn’t want or need help; it never turns out well. and Robyn doesn’t even know him to have any idea of what attempts at these stupid oaths to stand by him mean. she has other sworn duties to attend to, other people who need her, she shouldn’t be adding him to that pile right now.

her sentiment overrides logic; honestly, he’d expected better, while simultaneously expecting nothing less - a kind heart and charisma her driving nature.

but he’s shoved back against pushier people than her, kept them at arm’s length in his life, and fight back he will when the time comes.

“we might be stuck here yet, but with me isn’t where you belong,” he sighs, harder, “don’t you get that?”

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Yes, Robyn did understand that. But she wasn’t sure that she could leave him here by himself once she got cleared-because after getting knocked out, she hadn’t been a part of the fight so they couldn’t punish her for that, right? Or maybe that was wishful thinking, given the fact that she knew General Ironwood already likely didn’t think very highly of her. Sure, they had helped in evacuating Mantle, but considering he was just going to abandon the rest of Mantle, and maybe even the rest of Atlas too, she wasn’t exactly happy with him.

But there had to be a reason he’d gone to such an extreme so quickly, and that was what she was curious about.

“Yes, I do understand that, Qrow.” She told him. “And I also understand that I don’t want you to be alone, so you’re just going to have to deal with me sticking around.” It occurred to her after she’d spoken that she’d called him ‘Qrow’ and not ‘5′O Clock Shadow’.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

stuck. the both of them are stuck in this situation and everything sucks. Robyn stuck here when she could be defending mantle. qrow stuck here with her, when he needs to get far away. Clover stuck forever in the land of the not-living wherever his body has gotten carried away to by now. While Tyrian the only bastard deserving of being locked up runs free.

all thanks to ironwood.

head weighing like a boulder atop his fists with bloody pin still clutched inside, qrow squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think.

no room to feel right now, not the pain of the past few hours, not the warmth of Robyn and her caring heart beside him. but she’s right, at least for now, he must deal with it.

he has no argument left. no passion left. no information or advice on next steps left to offer. just emptiness and the goal of retribution he fills it with.

and for now, right now, anyway. he sits tight. too tight, wrapped up in himself and the barbed wire minefield that forever chokes him and his choices.

so fine. fine. though qrow refuses to speak it, he allows himself just this moment

to be glad he’s not alone.

[crackimagines]

Hi! I had an idea about dumb M!Byleth x Shamir stuff where Shamir acts as a reluctant teaching assistant because Byleth recruited too many students and now all these kids are stuck with these emotionally distant and blunt ex-mercs for educators, I'm sorry, its just too cute and funny to me lol

Hey there, anon! First of all, I’m in LOVE with this request, and I’m gonna have a LOT of fun with this! And no need to apologize, it’s a great ask!

Alright, let’s get the fun going! Thanks for the ask anon, I hope you enjoy!

And honestly? I think you’re one of the only people I’ve seen that actually requested for Shamir in an ask. Props to ya for that!

————

Teacher’s Helper (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Byleth asks his dear Shamir to help out with teaching the children of his class.

She’s…less than thrilled to.

the things you do for love

Shamir pulled up a stool and sat down next to Catherine, throwing out a gold coin onto the counter.

“Ale, half ice please.” Shamir said, sighing.

“Jeez, had a fight with Byleth?”

She shook her head, turning to Catherine.

“Nothing like that. Byleth asked me to help teach the class tomorrow.”

Catherine almost dropped her drink, then laughed it off thinking she was joking. Shamir wasn’t smiling.

“…Oh, you’re serious? Well crap, that’s gonna be fun.”

Shamir and Catherine joined Byleth’s class as overseers a while back. Overtime they saw the class extend from the Black Eagles class to incorporating most of the Blue Lions and at least one girl from the Golden Deer. In other words, it was a very packed class. It’s no wonder Byleth needed help with it.

“So on that note, what are you doing here? Don’t think you should be hungover when you’re teaching his kids.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just…kinda nervous is all.”

Shamir looked off to the side, slightly embarrassed that she admitted that.

“Hah, I’d be too, ya know! Byleth treats them as if they were his children! On that note, this’ll be good experience for you too! When you two have-”

Shamir punched Catherine in the arm, hard.

“Ack, sheesh! It’s a joke!”

“Ugh, what am I going to do…?”

She put her hands on her face, mumbling as she took a sip from her drink.

“Come on, this isn’t like you! How many times have we fought with them at this point? I’m sure you’ll do fine teaching!”

“I’m…not great with people, much less kids. You know that by now.”

“Tell ya what, I’ll do you a solid and help you out as well. How’s that sound?”

“…I’d appreciate that.” 

Catherine patted Shamir on the back and went back to her drink.

“Get some sleep, teach! You’re gonna need it!”

She grunted and left the bar.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

The Next Morning…

The students began pouring in as Shamir awkwardly made sure her clothing was fine and nothing stood too out of place.

“Hey, you alright?” Byleth asked as he was getting a paper of everyone’s name out.

“Y-Yeah…”

Byleth pecked her on the cheek smiling.

“You’ll do fine. Just try to relax.”

Shamir blushed for a moment trying not to be too visibly shocked by his smile.

(Dorothea) “Hey…why’s Shamir at the head of the class?”

Some of the students took notice and talked to each other about what might be happening.

(Sylvain) “Hey, they might be getting engaged!”

(Felix) “I seriously doubt the Professor would be too childish to announce that during class…”

(Caspar) “I dunno, he’s done weirder things before.”

Catherine took a seat near the front, a grin overtaking her face as she waved to Shamir who facepalmed.

(Bernadetta) “I-I’m afraid to even ask what’s going on…”

(Ashe) “Come on, Bernie! I’m sure it’ll be alright!”

Byleth loudly cleared his throat once the bell rang, and he had everyone’s attention.

“Today’s lecture is going to have to be split into two today, seeing how complicated the task would be if it were only me giving it. So, half the class is going with Shamir, while I’ll be teaching the rest. The people going with Shamir will be:

Catherine, Sylvain, Petra, Ashe, Bernadetta, Caspar, Mercedes, Ferdinand, and Marianne.

Please split off to the side of the room with your group, and we’ll begin today’s lecture. Today will be the only time the class will be split like this.

The students gathered over to Shamir’s side of the room and she cleared her throat.

‘Alright…how hard can this be?’ She thought to herself.

——–

“Alright, so here’s the battlefield and the type of infantry the enemy platoon has. What’s the best way to approach this?” She asked as she pointed to a chalkboard.

(Mercedes) “You’d approach from the forest using our reserve of spear fighters, right?”

(Shamir) “No, they’d get slaughtered. Lances are weak to axe units.”

(Caspar) “Er…no offense miss Shamir, but how does that make any sense?”

(Shamir) “I…Huh.”

She honestly didn’t know about that. That was one of the first things she learned as a mercenary. That fact never stood quite right to her either.

How did swords beat axes, lances beat swords, and axes beat lances?

She remained silent for a moment before carrying on.

(Caspar) “She didn’t answer my question…”

——–

“Ashe, as a sniper how would you go about taking out a foe in a fortress wearing heavy plate armor. Assume no friendly reinforcements would come in time to help. How do you occupy the fort before the enemy regroup?”

(Ashe) “Simple ma’am. Crit them so hard they explode.”

“…What?”

(Catherine) “Um, surely you’ve noticed right? How sometimes your bow and arrows just one shot a general?”

“…I suppose that’s correct.”

That was another thing she never understood. It would  explain that one time she saw a villager with a stick somehow kill an enemy bandit just by slapping him hard.

———-

“Ah, there’s your problem. Sorry to say, but that would’ve gotten your unit killed.”

(Marianne) “I-I see…”

She looked extremely troubled by the thought of that, which made Shamir flinch by her sheer depression.

She awkwardly walked over to Byleth and told him about the situation.

“…So she got sad is what you’re saying?”

“Yeah, sorry about that-”

Byleth kissed her on the lips and sighed.

“No worries, I can fix this. SOTHIS!”

“…W-Wha-”

[Ugh, are you seriously making me do this, Byleth?]

[Whatever…]

“Ah, there’s your proble-”

Byleth stepped in, tapping Shamir on the shoulder.

“You can go ahead and take a break, I got this for now, my side has been pretty quiet.”

“O-Oh alright.”

She took a deep breath as she walked outside the class to get a breath of fresh air. Catherine followed her out as Byleth was carefully explaining the mistakes to Marianne.

“It’s only been an hour and I’m already losing my mind…”

“That’s quitter talk! I think you’re doing a fine job, Shamir!”

“I appreciate it, Catherine but I don’t know how to properly talk to those kids. I think Byleth stopped me from doing so cause I might hurt someone’s feelings at this point.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Hmph.”

“Come on, it’s only a few more hours you have to deal with, I believe in you and so does Byleth!”

“At least that makes two of you…”

Few Hours later…

Classes had finally ended after what seemed like an eternity. Byleth stood confidently waving some students off. Meanwhile Shamir sat in Byleth’s chair and faceplanted onto the desk.

“S-Shamir? Are you okay?”

Catherine walked up and laughed heartily.

“She’ll be fine after a few drinks!”

“Ugh…”

Byleth smilled and gently held her hand.

“You did great today, Shamir. Thanks for the help.”

She got up and kissed him, rolling her eyes after.

“I…won’t be doing that again. That was just for you.”

Byleth hugged her, which made Shamir go dead quiet while Catherine watched the two with a smile.

“Come on, why don’t we enjoy ourselves for a little bit, it’ll be my treat for helping out!” Byleth said, putting away his papers.

“Come on you two, we’re drinking proper tonight!” Catherine shouted, wrapping her arms around both of them.

“I’m uh…underage…I think?” Byleth said.

“Like hell you are! You’re…actually what are you?”

Shamir raised an eyebrow and looked at Byleth as well.

“Yeah, you never told me that too. You certainly don’t look much older than the kids but…”

“Bah, let’s say you can! No one’s gonna question! Come on, love birds!”

She went ahead of them and Byleth awkwardly followed along, leaving Shamir behind smiling to herself.

“…Maybe kids won’t be so bad now that I had firsthand experience with em…Heh, that’s a fun thought.”

She joined in with the two, and they all went to drink out in town.

[bnha-hcs]

Soul Bond - Chapter 4

I’M FINISHED WITH FINALS YEAAAAAH now I can write and draw for at least a month before classes start back up... BUT I’M GONNA WRITE BC I’VE BEEN SO CREATIVELY STARVED UGH. Here’s chapter 4 to Soul Bond I’ll probably be writing some Jojo stuff later because I’m trying to update all of my series. Emphasis on try. My goal is to finally get part 2 to Winning Your Heart and another chapter for the Death Before Decaf before I die alsdjak. I might open commissions again but we will see 

- Tiki 

You didn’t have much time to respond to what Katsuki had just let fly into the void like that. The sharp intake of breath from yourself didn’t you serve you much as you tried to say something about how it was extremely unnecessary to just shout things like that as you stopped to watch as the knight’s face contorted to such pure undenied rage that you thought the poor guy was literally going to explode. I mean, he was out here probably guarding the world eater of all things… his pride out here probably was already a little… damaged if you will. Katsuki’s words probably did him in if you were being honest.

The knight and his crew stopped a little beyond the base of rocks that you were on, and by the looks of it, you could see that he probably had a LOT to say to you which was great.... Thanks for that again Katsuki. You were about to try and buckle down to get through whatever rant this knight was going to spill on you, but in the distance, closer to the world eater, you could see two men. How they got past these idiots in front of you, you had no idea but it looked like there were trying to take on the world eater themselves… Or not, you couldn’t really tell from this distance anyways. But it wasn’t until you heard a throat clearing so obnoxiously loud that you remembered your situation that you looked back to the knight. Well… Great.

“Are you even listening to me???” The knight asks, obviously more offended by the fact that you didn’t hear a single word of his rant. You sighed.

“Obviously not!” Katsuki said for you. He was right, though so you sat tight as Ochako approached from behind you, now finding herself into the situation unfolding in front of all of you.

“Jeez, are you in trouble with authorities already?” She asked poking her head from around you.

“I wouldn’t really call them-”

“Enough!! State your business here immediately and we’ll remove you by force!!” The knight yelled.

“Don’t you mean OR you’ll remove us by force??” Ochako asked, squinting at the man. You heard Katsuki snort.

“This guy is just full of beans huh…”

“Well we’re here to attack the world…!!! Thingy…!” Ochako said, losing a bit of her enthusiasm halfway as she realized that 1. She didn’t know the name of the thing they’re fighting and 2. That it sounds completely ridiculous. The knight looked at her like she’s the stupid one. (Spoiler she’s not.)

“That’s just… Stupid.��� The knight says, very bitterly. You wonder how he thinks it’s any less stupid that he’s guarding quite literally the one thing that could kill him very easily.

“How rude!! We’re just-”

“I don’t have time for this lunacy!!” He yells, obviously thinking that all of you are out of your damn minds. “You all, get rid of them!!”

The soldiers who were on standby this whole time quickly started to make their way towards you like they were waiting for their chance to jump in. You were quick to jump out of the way but one managed to grab Ochako by the arm. She was quick to fend them off however and ran off after you and towards the path in between the rocks. Your strategy was to let them funnel their way towards the two, or three I guess, of you. And so you watched as Ochako found her place behind you and wait, the soldiers not being too far behind her.

“Keep your dirty hands off of me!!” You heard her yell, slicing into the shoulder of another one of the soldiers trying to advance.

You found yourself surrounded by four other soldiers and although they outnumbered you they looked even weaker than those bandits in the forest not too long ago. Maybe being out in the sun all day and having to deal with such an annoying commanding knight took a lot out of a guy, but if this was what the army was like around these parts you were sure getting past these guys was easy for most people. Your point was proven as one of the soldiers swung at you with a short sword, making an easy block and parry with your much longer blade. It took maybe one solid hit before he was on his ass and out cold.

The other soldiers seemed to pale when they realized that you were much stronger than they thought you were and you didn’t have too much trouble getting rid of them. They were dispatched and knocked out cold on the craggy field area as you started to loot them. Just as soon as you were done reaping your spoils, you heard Ochako from not too long a ways down finishing off a few of her own opponents.

“I guess I got to see how rusty I was with these guys huh.” You heard Katsuki say cockily as you started to walk over to Ochako.

“I thought you got to do that during the last fight?” You said unsure, sighing as you debated drinking another stamina potion before facing that annoying knight down the path.

“Yeah sure but now I’m really starting to be able to stretch my legs in this body.”

“I don’t know if I like that.”

“Sure you do!”

You were halfway through a groan when Ochako came up to you, seeing you unharmed and nary a scratch on you. The two of you nodded before you made your way down the path to where the knight was waiting. Upon seeing you he got on guard, and seemed a little angry by the fact that the two of you already bested his men. And to be honest you felt a little bad for him. Being stuck here with a bunch of shitty men who don’t know how to fight in the middle of a barren area with literally nothing to do. But at the same time he was really arrogant for someone who just got all of his men decimated by a Sepp and a possessed person.

It wasn’t too long before he lunged at you, obviously much faster and more experienced than his own men as he landed a blow on you. It wasn’t that good because you responded in kind, hitting him right back but much harder. Katsuki must’ve been able to tell that you were a little mad he got a hit on you because the power pulsing through your sword got stronger as the ringing in your ears got louder.

Ochako managed to land a hit on him not too long after you did, and hey, it was two on one so good for him for being able to hold out against you for so long. BUt he was still going to lose. And so with renewed vigor, you slugged the dude head on with a full body slash, knocking him off of his feet and into the dust. He scrambled for purchase on the ground as he made a hasty retreat.

“Impossible!! There’s no way such rabble them could….” He gasps trying to get away with some semblance of pride. “I’ll tell my commander of this!! Men, retreat!!”

You watched as he made his escape and weren’t too sure if he understood that his men were all knocked out but part of you knew that he probably didn’t care. Ochako was happily besides herself as she watched him go. And now that all that was over the three of you could get down to business and get after that world eater. You turned towards the direction that the path lead you to, contemplating if this fight was going to be that easy. A big part of you said of course the hell not because it’s a goddamn world eater and it literally eats worlds!! But it’s what you had to do so…

“Ha!! What a bunch of wusses!!” Ochako laughed happily, pumping a fist in the air.

“Yeah yeah, but you only won thanks to me here so…” Katsuki interjected. “Our real fight begins now though. Are you ready, Soul Mate?”

With a huff you cringed at the way Katsuki called you Soul Mate. You weren’t really sure if you liked it at all but you certainly didn’t like the way he said it. It sounded too… violating if you will. Like, you already had to deal with him being inside your body but the least he could do was not make such weird comments. You would prefer not to have to think about sharing your body with a master of death. In fact, you’d like to forget it sometimes.

“Anyways let’s just go kill this world thingy!!” Ochako declared, leading the way down the path.

“World EATER! Gods how can you forget something so important!?” Katsuki barked.

And so the three of you made your way down the path, taking note as any sort of life started to disappear around you. The grass was gone, and it was nothing but cracking sandstone and wind as you slowly got closer and closer to the world eater. You didn’t like the feeling that the rumbling ground made while you walked through the sand and sandstone, and how the air felt like it was thick with a static, an energy that you couldn’t understand. Katsuki was oddly quiet for someone who was supposed to know a lot more about this thing than you or Ochako.

As the three of you finally came into range, you could tell that Ochako wasn’t too sure about herself anymore either. She turned to you as it loomed not too far off. The thing looked absolutely massive. The main body was like a woman with a large dress but was discolored in a mixture of gray and bright magenta, mixing into glowing highlights of blue and yellow. Giant winglike structures grew out of the back and horns grew out from the beautiful woman’s face. Two large arm structures floated out in front of it, holding two giant golden swords all the while four more loomed ominously around the main body. Hmmm... you weren’t too sure if you liked to idea of fighting anymore.

“Hey now that we’re closer… It kinda looks tough…” Ochako said quietly, her will to fight also wavering.

“Of course it’s fucking tough! It used to serve none other than yours truly!” Katsuki said rather matter of factly. You heard Ochako groan. “Of course I could beat its ass in no time.

“Okay then go.” You said flatly.

“Then give me your fucking body!”

“No.”

“Ugh!!” Katsuki groaned disgustedly. “Whatever, we can’t do much talking now because here it comes!!”

“Wait is it those guys from before??”

You looked over quickly to see the two mysterious men from before with the knights. And with all horror you watch as the world eater slowly shifts to face them, charge up attack from the core of its belly, and then shoot it at the men. The sound echoed in your ears and cracks raced out of the earth around the beast. The light was so bright that you couldn't see, and you covered your eyes and waited for the attack to be over. When the blinding light subsided, the men were gone and the world eater slowly started to face back to the three of you…

“That thing is terrifying!!” Ochako shrieks, you nod solemnly in agreement.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t even aiming at us. It saw the actual strong people and went after them first.” Katsuki spat. “A hell of a lot stronger than you guys.”

You hear Katsuki whisper to you in your mind, “A shit ton stronger than you considering you can't even use my power right. You can pray that maybe you can be able to unlock even a sliver of my unlimited godliness.”

With a groan you rolled your eyes and tightened the grip on your sword. You hated that he’s at least kinda right. You don’t have any clue as to how to use this power you have, and nothing from your training ever prepared for you to be possessed by the master of death or even how to use his power for yourself! How were you even supposed to know anyways?

And then again with much hesitance you made your way closer to the world eater, and before you knew it, it’s going to engage you. You prepared for the worst as you practically stared death in the face, every hair on your body standing on end as every instinct you have was telling you to fucking run. You don’t and blindly walk forward. Right before it charges its attack you hear an oddly familiar voice.

“Leshura…” It says.

You watch as the golden rays charge up from beside it, and soon enough its floating arms fly out at you and Ochako, slicing you with one golden sword before the other one comes down and like a pair of scissors, slices you completely in half.

And just like that, you’re pretty dead yeah? Everything’s black, and your consciousness floats in an endless void. You aren’t sure where you are but it feels familiar. It’s then you realize… You’re there and then you look up and see him.

“Hey kid.”

[lucifer-lacroix]

Strawberry Chapter 3

RDR 2 Fanfiction Arthur Morgan X Original Character.  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13175208/1/Strawberry for the full story. 

Isabella Morningstar, stories of the Devil in Red had spread quickly through the town and where ever she went people left her a wide berth. The mud fight in the street had brought attention to her, but Izzy's reputation was the hot gossip of the village. The bounty hunter stood outside alone on the hotel patio in the dark, the moon blocked out by the thunder clouds which rumbled and sparked in the sky. The storm had blacked out the heavens and what little light was available came from the few lanterns which struggled to stay lite in the damp cold air. Isabella still dressed in a man's casual red checkered shirt, and dark brown trousers stood at the far corner of the patio trying to light her cigarette but to no avail. Her matchbook was damp and one by one she struck the flimsy paper on the strip of the box. With great vigour, they sparked but did not catch and she discarding them with a huff at her feet. Isabella was about to give up when a match was struck in the dark shielded by elk white-gloved hands from the wind.  Isabella circled the cigarette in her lips and clenched it between her teeth with a snarl as she gazed upon Arthur's face revealed in the light of the fire. He gestured in a motion of peace silently offering it to her. “Mr Callaghan... Or Is it Morgan?” Her voice broke the silence as she leaned over to it and allowed him the gesture to light her cigarette. She quickly pulled away once the tobacco was lite and took in a long deep breath feeling the immediate relief of her addiction. 

“Hello, Isabella. It’s... been a long time.” Arthur said with a stoic expression.  He was not ready for this confrontation, but he could not avoid it. The best thing to do was try and put out the flames of past mistakes before it became an inferno. The storm would have them locked down in the hotel for the night, so if he was going to stay, they needed to find common ground. Once Isabella had settled her nerves she let a cloud of smoke release into his face returning his gesture with what could be best translated as impolite. The puff of smoke burned his eyes, and he bore it with a smile. Unsure now where things would go from here Arthur needed to play nice. From what he could remember she was famously hot-headed with a strict moral code. In truth, this entire conversation could have been avoided. If he hadn't have shaven off his beard in such a haste.   “A long time? I had completely forgotten how you stole all my money! I really hope you spent it taking care of your daddy.” Isabella did not yell but was struck deep with her words. Her hand hooked on her hip as she stuck her nose up at him taking her stand against him after so long. She didn't need the fancy jewels or a gun to dominate a conversation. The truth of her words silenced him, and confidence behind her voice captivated him. After thirteen years he finally took the time to study her face. Her red hair cascaded around her shoulders like a cloak curly and thick. The once bucked teeth now had straightened out, but her lack of smile concealed them. The once shallow nose had matured into her perfect heart shaped face decorated with more freckles then he could remember. Nothing compared to her eyes however and as they bore down on him, he was just happy to see them again. The mere thought of his younger self and her left his chest tight like earlier but more unbearable as she scorned him. “Forever is a good way to put it.” Arthur regretfully admitted, for the first time in a long time there was no witty quip to save him from Devil in Red.   “So 'Mr Callaghan'. Are you looking to rob Rose in her sleep or take off with her carriage after you shoot me dead in the streets this time?”  Isabella said with malice, and her words cut him like a knife. “It’s not like that.” He tried to be gentle. “Then what is it? All my stuff was in that bag including the papers proving Artex belonged to me." "That's what a stack of musky papers was?" Arthur asked remembering clearly what was inside that bag. "You son of a bitch, I had to sell him for 20 dollars! Because of you, I had to sell... Ugh, you are the worst man I have ever met how could you use me like that!" She was about to start shouting but was able to wind her emotions down. Everything he said was triggering her primage rage to beat him senseless.   "Artex was a good horse, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take the papers, but Dutch told me you had them on you.” “Ha! Dutch? You're so full of shit, even if I did have a second magic bag with the papers in it. You still stole my stuff and ditched me! That’s not his fault it’s yours. Dutch didn't make you get on the boat.” Isabella was speaking in a low whisper as to not alert those inside who would want to eavesdrop on such a heated discussion. “Izzy please,” Arthur called for her as she ashed her cigarette under her boot ready to walk away. Arthur approached her to follow, and that was when Isabella spun on her heels with her hand on her hip prepared to draw her pistol. “Don’t you dare call me that!  I've seen the wanted posters Mr Morgan, and I will only warn you once. Stay away from me, or I will put a bullet in your skull.” Isabella's voice went low, and their eyes were locked. Arthur had a chance to attempt to his pistol but resisted since she was ready to fire and that reputation she had made for herself had, in fact, reached his ears in the dirty parts of the west.   “Would you let me explain at least.” Arthur approached again as she drew her gun as fast as the strike of lightning that flashed in the distance. “Do you have wax in your ears? Not another step.” She spoke in a quiet, dark tone making Arthur stop and raise his hands. “You won’t shoot me, I’m unarmed. Give me five minutes I'll explain everything, you owe me.” He slowly approached her again keeping his hands up letting the barrel of her pistol point at his chest. "You couldn't hurt me, I'm your teddy bear remember." Arthur smiled his best charming smile he could, he really did miss her on those lonely nights on the road. He would hug his pillow for warmth, and her image would appear in his head. Though seeing her for real was better than anything his mind could come up with.  He knew she couldn't do it, things were different between them and hopeful in his thoughts he waited for her to surrender. Isabella’s hand shook on her pistol as her eyes began to well up, her pale features turning hot. The redness of her frustration showed cheeks as he brought out a deep pain she had buried for a long time.  That's when Arthur saw the same little girl who gave him his first kiss, but that moment did not last. With a deep breath, Isabella steadied herself and stood straight and proud. "I owe you nothing." Isabella cocked the hammer of the gun and pushed the barrel into his heart. Arthur felt his weight triple on his knees. She wasn't kidding and as a single tear ran down her cheek. The cold-hearted killer she had become stared back at him, and he honestly felt scared of her. "Easy there,..." He backed up away from her cautiously, the lack of shake in her hand making his own shiver slightly. "Keep going." She ordered. "Alright." Arthur obeyed and with slow steps he cleared her space. The only sound in the air was the howling winds scraping brush across the dirt. "You keep your fucking mouth shut, ya hear. If I catch you trying to rob my girls. Sleep with my girls, or even look at my girls. I'll do to you what I did to the Bayou Bandit." "Do I dare asked what you did to him?" Arthur asked curiously. He may be surrendering, but his famous wit always got him in deeper trouble. "I cut his balls off and feed them to my dog," Isabella said bluntly in response. Arthur laughed uncomfortably as she threatened him with such a childish come back. His chuckle was silenced however by a howl in the wind. It's low musical bellow echoed in the dark unnervingly close. "That's Bijou, do you want to meet her?" "No, I don't." "Good, so hypothetically if you ever did meet my dog afterwards, I would collect whatever bounty I could off your head and then leave you with the Hangman, Is that clear?"  Isabella spoke with hatred but was well composed, her eyes watered still, but her voice did not waver. Arthur could see there was pain deep behind her eyes. That wave of deep lonely anger he was all too familiar with since it haunted every mirror he ever saw. They were more alike then she knew, but Isabella wanted nothing to do with him. That in itself was worse than being shot. Arthur slinked back away from her not at all surprised that this is how the conversation ended. Many people had cast Arthur out of their lives before, and there were only two other instances where it felt this bad. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Goodnight mam." He spoke quietly and left slowly as the long walk to the door began. The creak of the wood under his weight and clash of his spurs with each step echoed in the night air. Would he feel the hot sting of his betrayal tonight? As Arthur crossed the threshold of the door to go back inside the hotel, he could hear Isabella gasp for air behind him. Was she crying? Unable to look back he rushed away towards his room in shame. The ache in his chest ripped open as emotions he thought were left in the past came back to torment him. He kept his head down as he marched for the stairs almost free of the main room. That was when Rosalyn caught his eye, and he looked to meet her gaze. The blonde still looking like she just stepped out of the salon gave him a curious expression, eyeing him carefully. Arthur quickly looked away and her face light up with excitement. Rosalyn quickly crossing the room made a direct line. Arthur rushed up the stairs passing by a few drunk couples who blocked the way. Hoping to lose her on the second floor by hiding in the crowd. Rosalyn spun around the bannister and from the bottom of the staircase, her voice bellowed out for his attention like a banshee in the night. "Where you going cowboy!" She exclaimed. The crowd hanging around the stairs all turned to Arthur. Their curious eyes revealing him like a spotlight. The most popular girl at the party had just called for him. "I'm a little tired, so I'm just going to turn in" Arthur tried to dodge the oncoming conversation, but she rushed up the stairs to his side and grabbed his arm. "Oh No! No no no! You don't get to run away from me that easily. You must tell me everything I have ignored you for too long! Come to my room!" Rosalyn dragged him and her surprisingly strong for someone so small.  Arthur was forced to follow her, with so many eyes on him he was trapped. The idea of getting lost in the mountains during a thunderstorm sounded like a great idea at that moment. Rosalyn lead Arthur into her hotel room which must have been the most expensive room in the joint. There was a queen sized bed dressed in furs and wool blankets by the window. A soft rolling fire which needed another log light a dining table covered in chocolates and cigars. An exotic paper change room divider sat by a large mirror and makeup table. The reflection of her trunks of dresses stashed behind it as glittering jewels sparkled in his eyes. A half-eaten plate of fresh fruits, bread and cheeses sat on the table as an unopened bottle of fine brandy sat with three glasses beside it. The array of gluttonous treats tempting him to stay as his sweet tooth ached in his mouth. "Please make your self comfortable, I need to lose some layers. Would you open that bottle for me I have weak hands." Rosalyn asked him like she was asking her husband and disappeared behind the Exotic divider. Her silhouette became visible in the dimly light room after she lights a small wick lamp on the makeup stand. Arthur paced around examining the tables as she started peeling off her clothes. Though he was unable to see her naked form, he was getting a spectacular show of curves. Little by little each article of clothing came off, and Arthur stopped to watch. It had been a long time since he been alone with a woman.

"I think there has been a misunderstanding, I think it's best maybe if I go." Arthur attempted to duck out of the room, but Rosalyn opened the divider as he walked for the door. Her bare chest only covered by her arm wearing nothing but her bare pantyhosed legs in beige beaded panties.  The full illusion of her naked form was before him as his mouth hit the floor.   "If you step out that door, I'm going to tell Izzy that we slept together." She hungry eyes at him. "Now wait just one minute!" Arthur's tone flipped from calm and collected to hot and angry, and Rosalyn gasped. "I knew it! You're sweet on her!" she giggled. "I..." Arthur must have swallowed a frog because he had nothing to say after that. She just grinned and closed the divider once again and continued to change. "I had a feeling with the way you two were making eyes at each other. I read her diary, and she writes about you. Hm, you wouldn't think so with how she wanted to flay the skin from your back at the poker table. But I know what you want. You wanted to take her back to your room and mwah mwah mwah." Rosalyn danced around behind her barrier wiggling her hips. "It's nothing like that." Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. Huffing a stubborn scowl at her since he was unable to barge out of the room in case she decided to follow him. "Oh isn't it?" She asked as she opened the divider again, this time dressed in a long white and violet nightgown with matching overcoat. Her long blonde hair untied from its bun and cascading around her face. "I don't know what it's like for you city folk, but whatever story you have going on in your head is not real sweetheart," Arthur said bitterly as this harlot started commenting on his personal life. "I don't think so, why would you carelessly bet your rare sweet princess on a twenty dollar game? She must be worth what Four hundred maybe five hundred?" Rosalyn asked as she walked up to him. He puffed his chest out at her, but she did not approach him to touch. She merely wanted to access the coat rack behind him, and as he moved away, she picked up a knitted white brown and blue poncho. After she threw it around her shoulders, she walked back to the unopened bottle of brandy and waited for him clearing her throat in annoyance.   "So?" He sighed and walked over to snatch the brandy bottle up and opened it, God knew he sure needed a drink. "So, I don't think that game was about the money at all. I think you wanted Izzy to win, and by throwing your horse into the pot. You were paying her back for something, and I want to know why?" "This isn't some fantasy Ms Bush, I lost the card game because she got lucky." He stated sternly as he poured them both a glass, his more generous than hers. He was fed up and didn't want to speak with Rosalyn, the only person he wished to talk to almost shot him dead less than five minutes ago. "Then tell me what it is then? Because from what I see, Izzy wants me to know your trouble." Rosalyn added before approaching Arthur again, this time getting right up in his face. At first, he thought she was trying to poke him but her eyes focused on his chest and she tapped him. He looked down at what she was pointing at where a transparent oil stain blemished his paisley vest. "She does it on purpose, over oiling the tip of her gun so I can see who she wants us to stay away from, what happened between you two?" Rosalyn asked again this time she spoke with concern since Arthur refused to lock eyes with her. His favourite vest has to suffer from all this drama too. "I know a dangerous man when she I see one, Arthur. You have all the tells of a man who does violent things. Your boots. Deluxe quickdraw in brown leather with blood stains on them. This scar on your chin, long faded but unmistakeably done with a clean-edged blade." She ran her finger over his chin where it was, and he pushed her hand away.  Arthur could feel her scanning her for details, and with his back to the wall. He had no place to escape unless he crashed through the window which was looking like a fantastic option at the moment. Still, he did not speak since he was only able to swallow the lump in his throat with a splash of brandy. "I see... how much?" She asked. "Excuse me?" Arthur replied. "How much will it cost you to spill the beans, I can only assume that's the only language you understand, and I always get what I want."  Rosalyn walked away from him and opened a purse sitting on the table. She withdrew from it a small coin purse made of maroon velvet and threw it at him which he caught easily. It was small, but when Arthur opened it, he could roughly count fifty dollars and a few jewels inside. "Why do you want to know so badly?" Arthur asked as those dirty temptations seduced him. "Because I hired her to protect me and after seven years of travelling together I want to know everything about her, she keeps secrets, and I don't like secrets inside my family."  Rosalyn took her brandy and a cigar and crossed over to the bed where a stack of pillows and blankets were laid out. She crawled into the nest and perched herself up and pat the spot next to her. "Come on big man, tell me her secrets." She gave him a kiss and a wink. Arthur looked back to the coin purse in hand and shook it around a bit fighting his own greed. Isabella's words echoing in the back of his skull as well as Dutch's. "Fine. We are going to need another bottle though." Arthur pocketed the coin purse and unbuttoned his vest. It was going to be a long night, and if she was going to be comfortable, he was too.   Rosaly had a smile on her lips as Arthur unclasped the buckle of his belt and dropped his gun on the chair. "Slow down and let me watch." Rosalyn licked her lips and Arthur gave her a dirty look before approaching the bed, and she raised her hand. "Ah ah... shirt too, then you can have one of these," Rosalyn said giving him a sly smirk. Arthur locked eyes on her wanting to refuse. However, she waved her cigar at him. That was enough for him to unbutton his shirt and discard it on the ground. Once he was shirtless, he sat on the bed as Roslyn laid her feet across his lap as she placed the cigar in his mouth.   "Okay Cowboy, so tell me. How did you and Izzy meet."  Rosalyn said pulling out a match from the box currently making herself comfortable. Her feet kneaded into his lap sensually making him stiffen. "You need to stop that," Arthur stated pushing her feet down away from his groin as she lite the match.   "Give me a foot rub, and I'll stop, but I asked you a question, how did you two meet." She asked again and light the cigar for him. He took a couple of drags as the chocolate flavoured paper filled his mouth with sweet, mellow smoke. "I met her after my gang burned down her uncles' farm, " Arthur said and took one of her lovely feet in hand and started to knead the flesh. Her ankles were stiff, but her calf muscles were strong. So As Arthur's strong hands began to pinch and push she flopped back into the pillow and moaned. "Oh God, my feet hurt... So we aren't starting this story off on a great note. Why did you guys burn down her uncles' farm?" Rosalyn asked relieved from the tension and pain which was caused from long days standing in heels. "The guy was a kidnapper running with a bad group of men, he kidnapped one of our own and when I was around 17, and we went to get her back. Thing's didn't go smoothly, so we had to use force." Arthur said and handed the cigar to her when she reached for it. "So you burned the house down got your girl back, where was Izzy?" "She was in the stables with the horses, she didn't have a room in the house but in the loft of the barn. When we let the horses free, she asked us to come with. Said she wanted to go to Washington to see her Grandmother." Arthur had gotten into a rhythm with his massage and Rosalyn looked very relaxed under his grip. Her face twisted in pain a bit as he could feel the grinding her bone as she rotated her ankles. "What happened here?" He asked. "Old dance injury. Never mind that did you take her to Washington?" Rosalyn asked when Arthur's attention drifted. "We took her to the boat, Dut... I mean our leader said she could stay with us and join the gang because was really good at hunting" Arthur catching himself oversharing. "And Duuuu.. who?" She asked noticing Arthur was holding back a name. "Hm?"   "Who are you talking about? Oh, tell me, tell me, tell me I can keep a secret." She bounced in the bed and kicked him a bit. "Dutch," Arthur said. How much had he drunk so far? He looked to his glass which was empty and currently being refilled by Rosalyn. "Dutch Van Der Linde?" Rosalyn asked with a smirk. "Oh shit." Arthur was in trouble. "Oh, I read about him in the newspapers, you're a gang member! I think you just went from hunky cowboy to rugged outlaw. Meow!" Rosalyn purred and pushed up from her position and shimmied closer onto Arthur's lap. "Ms please." Arthur was embarrassed.  He was never this careless going to town let alone a victim to gossip. Rosalyn, however, was indeed a gossip whore. Though as she snuggled into his lap and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. The soft poncho she wore warm on his skin this cold night as she blanketed him. Her small frame curled up into his body. The haze of alcohol mixed with desire clouded his head. It had been a very long time since someone had been this affectionate with him. Yet she was not the woman he longed for, and lines were getting blurred.   "You and Dutch Van Der Linde burned up this evil kidnappers farm, found a teenaged girl far from her Grandmother who could shoot and then what. Sounds like you helped her." She said enjoying herself as she cuddled him. "Well, we travelled a long time together. Hosea liked her so we would go off alone on fishing trips together... what is in this cigar? My head feels like a cloud." He asked since they had been sharing it. Rosalyn giggled. He was finally loosening after up. Despite the voices in his head, he was happy to share the story, and Rosalyn was a good listener.   "It doesn't matter now, she hates me." "Well, what did you do?" Rosalyn asked still not getting the full details. "It's... complicated," Arthur said grabbing the bottle and ditching the glass altogether. "No, it's not. What did you do?" Rosalyn asked again grabbing the bottle as he attempted to chug it down and pulled it from his hand. "I... crap." Arthur slid Rosalyn off his lap and hung his head down shamefully. Rosalyn only shifting to sit on her own and keep listening, waiting for him to continue as he processed his thoughts. Meanwhile pouring herself another drink and putting the nearly empty bottle down. "Isabella didn't pay her share to the gang,  she was getting close to me, so Dutch said she was using that to avoid paying the pot. We all pull our own weight. And then I heard her talking to Hosea about me going with her to Washington." "Oh? Why would she want you to go, were you two in love?" Rosalyn's eyebrows furrowed. "No!" Arthur snapped and sat upright defensively. "You're lying." "We weren't together," Arthur repeated. "If there is one thing I have learned about that girl is that she is honourable. I highly doubt she would play games with anyone." Rosalyn said defending her friend. "Okay, there was one time." "Ha! I knew it." "Okay, just listen alright. I liked Izzy, but she was my first... you know." "Roll in the hay?" "Girlfriend." "Awe."

"Things were getting serious you know, first we're riding at night around the beach next she asks me to leave everyone I know and care about to abscond out across the country and meet a family who she has never met." Arthur flopped back onto the bed. Deep down, he still wondered if he made the right choice. "Yeah, that's a lot, so you didn't go obviously," Rosalyn asked grabbing a slice of apple from her tray of snacks by the bed and taking a bite. Arthur paused in his response long enough to make Rosalyn turn over her shoulder and look him in the eye. "You didn't go. right?" Rosalyn asked again. Arthur looked back at her with guilty eyes like he had outside earlier that day and her mouth fell open. "What did you do?" She scorned him. "I jumped off the boat when it left the dock." Arthur closed his eyes saying it out loud hearing it for himself just how much of an ass hole he is.   "Arthur! No!" Rosalyn was astounded, mouth open in awe. "I also stole her bag with all her money, and accidentally stole the ownership papers for Artex too." Arthur covered his face with a pillow wanting to smother himself. Rosalyn merely jumped onto his chest and ripped it off him and started beating him with it. "What's wrong with you! That was you're the first girlfriend, That was her favourite horse! You robbed her? How could you do that she was just a little girl!" Rosalyn was mad smacking him with the pillow which he wrestled away from her. "I get it I am the worst now get off me," Arthur said as Rosalyn straddled his waist. "You sir owe that woman so much more than a free horse, she deserves an apology!" "I tried she won't listen to me," Arthur complained. "Well, you're currently half naked under her employer after being bought for fifty dollars, some jewellery and a cigar. Do you think maybe your morals might need some reevaluating." Rosalyn asked running her fingers up his chest through his long unkempt chest hair. "You got me drunk." Arthur pouted. Rosalyn was fun, and the affection was sweet, but his heart wasn't in it. He looked away from her to gaze out the window as her fingers tickled his skin. The rain beating against the glass as the shutters clattered from the wind.   "This is true, you really care about her don't you," Rosalyn asked still petting his chest enjoying the feel of his firm muscles under her fingers. Sighing with a pout of her own. "Maybe..." Arthur still had to think about it. He placed his hand over the top of his heart trapping Rosalyn hand on the spot where Isabella had stuck her gun. His skin still burning from it. "You poor thing." Rosalyn was heartbroken for him, but before she could speak her again the door opened, and They both turned to look. Standing in the doorway was the fiery redhead with a look of pure disgust on her face.

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 68

So close to the end of this fic now, finally, where the stakes are real and the fates of millions of people rest on the shoulders of a few teenagers... so I’m gonna ignore that for now and give you this chapter. A day in the life of Snek. Because why not.

Also on AO3 as always

Chandeliers were inherently malevolent. Imhotep the First, royal cobra to the ruling pharaoh of the Kubdel dynasty, awoke from a nightmare about those evil pieces of architecture and immediately decided that at this year’s spring dance, he wasn’t going anywhere near them, no matter what strange plans he got roped into.

In any case, going back to sleep alone in his enclosure simply wouldn’t do. He slithered up over the mini fence, made his way to the pharaoh-sized bed, and curled up around Alix’s arm.

“Hm? Oh hey buddy, what’s up?” She opened her eyes a fraction and gave him a gentle stroke.

-. .. --. .... - -- .- .-. . he tapped.

“Aww, that sucks. It’s okay, though. I’ll always protect you. I’m going back to sleep but wake me up if you need anything, yeah?” She kissed the tip of his hood and closed her eyes again.

Much better. Hopefully now he wouldn’t have a nightmare about chandeliers again. He closed his retinas, since he did not have proper eyelids, and went back to sleep.

-

-

The morning was not much different from usual. He woke up earlier than Alix did and stayed wrapped around her arm, absorbing the warmth into his cool scales. This school place always felt so much colder than back home, making him so sleepy whenever he wasn’t stuck to Alix like glue. Luckily she did not mind. In fact, she liked it a lot. Having a venomous snake wrapped around her shoulders at every second of the day was part of her pharaoh image by now. He liked to consider himself her sidekick.

“Morning dude. You okay now?”

Ah, she had woken up. He nodded at her – of course he was always okay with her around, no matter what.

“Awesome. I guess I should probably get up now, but I can’t be bothered so I’m just gonna lie here for a while…”

She was a little like a snake herself sometimes. Remaining motionless, not having the energy to move? Yes, very snakelike. Had she learnt that from him, or was she just like that? From what he knew, all teenagers were a bit like that.

Perhaps at some point he really could ask her. Morse code was a lifesaver – he could actually properly communicate with her now! For years he had wished to be able to speak the way humans did, with so much variety, rather than just this monotonous hissing he was cursed with. There were so many things he always wanted to say to Alix and had no way to do so. But now he could, and it was the best.

And far less boring, too. Being brought up in captivity, he grew up knowing human languages, like French and English and Arabic. On the odd occasion he came across another snake, he never understood what they were saying at all. Were they even speaking? Or just hissing nonsensically? Perhaps he would never know if all queen cobras were as intelligent as him, or if he was the only one.

-

-

Breakfast was the same as always. He did not want to eat anything, since it wasn’t that time of month for him yet, and human food did not look very appealing anyway. It was funny how Alix also had a “time of month” thing that happened, though hers was definitely less pleasant, and seemed to not keep to its monthly schedule very successfully.

“Nino, are you hacking the music for tonight’s spring dance again?”

“No need to hack this time, Marinette. Mendeleiev personally asked me to oversee it this year. I guess she didn’t want a repeat of the chandelier thing from last year, huh?”

“But that was funny…”

No it was not! The snake curled up a little tighter around Alix’s shoulders, hissing instinctively. Chandeliers just still somehow gave him a bad, bad feeling…

-

-

Class was no different. As usual, Lady Caline asked questions that only Markov knew the answer to. As usual, Alix ignored everything and played hangman with Mylène on the corner of a scrap piece of paper. As usual, Nathaniel was clearly drawing instead of writing. As usual, Kim and Max were giving each other cheesy looks while thinking no one was watching.

Nothing interesting ever happened in class anyway. It was always outside class where the fun happened. Like the spring dance! What was going to happen there this year? At least it wasn’t going to be strictly formal now, thanks to the crazy events of last year. Though hopefully no falling chandeliers…

-

-

“This is the boy who gave me his pet cat! He wants to ask you about getting a pet snake!” Marinette was running up the corridor, dragging along a beaming noble by the arm.

“Hi, I’m Wayhem!” the noble said. “Your snake is so cool! Can I stroke him? Can I? Please?”

“Ask him yourself,” Alix replied.

“Ah, okay!” Wayhem looked down at the snake, still with a huge smile. “Can I stroke you?”

He nodded. The noble softly ran his fingers over the scales.

“Wow… this is so cool! Are you venomous?”

He nodded again.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

He shook his head this time. Humans were capable of killing too! Why did they not ask each other that question? Why always snakes? From everything he had ever experienced in his life, humans on the whole seemed much crueller than snakes. Venom had nothing to do with it. After all, he still had annoyingly vivid memories of another timeline, where the guards had discovered him harmlessly residing in the palace, and sliced off his head for it…

Oh yes, he could access the other timelines too. Usually they were either very sad or very boring, sometimes both. And that one timeline where he was beheaded had been rather painful. Sure, it was quicker than dying from venom or poisoned chocolates, but it had hurt, and it had hurt even more to see his human owner having a nightmare about it and being so distraught. At least from now on Alix had promised to protect him as much as possible, which put him at ease. And she had kept that promise. She was very protective.

“Are you done?” she snapped at Wayhem. The snake was thankful – it got kind of annoying when people just endlessly stroked him and did nothing else. At least tell a joke or play rock-paper-scissors or something!

“Yep! Thanks, bye!”

And Wayhem ran off without another word. Perhaps, while not being afraid of the snake, he was afraid of Pharaoh Alix herself, which seemed quite common. Not as much these days as it used to be, but it still happened on occasion. Especially with the nobles.

“I didn’t even know his name was Wayhem, he never told me,” Marinette huffed. “But I’m glad he gave me his cat. I’m sure Plagg is doing very well back home, with… my other cat.”

Other cat? They must be talking about Adrien. People were always using codenames for him, in case of spies overhearing and discovering his whereabouts. But then again, weren’t the spies gone now that Empress Chloé had cut ties with the Agreste Empire? It seemed Alix had the same thought.

“Is your ‘other cat’ ever gonna join you here?” she asked. “You know, now that things are… uh…”

“I don’t think so,” Marinette said, lowering her voice to such a quiet whisper that there was no way anyone else could overhear – not that anyone was around, anyway. “The borders are probably clear for him and everything, he wouldn’t get arrested on sight anymore, but this empire isn’t safe for travel right now anyway! And his father must be so angry, he’ll have sent spies for sure. If any of them see him, he’ll be taken away again and this time they’ll never let him escape. He’s better off staying put.”

“So it’s like house arrest all over for him, just in a different place this time? Ugh…”

“I know…” Marinette sighed. “To be honest, I might just not come back after the spring holidays. I may as well stay there with him. And if the state of this empire gets any worse, especially further towards the borders, then it won’t even be a choice – I won’t be able to come back at all. Risk of bandit attacks and all that. Royal guards aren’t invincible against angry commoners…”

She spoke some more, but the snake had ceased to listen – there was a rather tasty-looking bug crawling along the top of Marinette’s hair. He watched it, trying so very hard not to suddenly pounce. It looked so good! Bugs were always a nice snack. Unlike eating larger creatures, they didn’t take that long to digest. Neither did spiders. He had eaten a lot of those in his life.

“There’s a bug in your hair, by the way.”

“Oh!” Marinette took the bug in her hand and put it in the front pocket on her robes. “How did she get out of there?”

“Marinette… are you telling me you have a pet bug?”

“Um, sort of? She never goes away no matter what I do, so I’ve kind of accepted it. I’m thinking she might be my… what’s the word? Guardian animal? You know, like your snake.”

“Oh, right…”

The snake was suddenly very glad indeed that he hadn’t eaten the bug. Imagine killing Marinette’s guardian animal, and therefore indirectly dooming Marinette herself to an upcoming grisly fate! Maybe he should think twice before eating. He did have a bit of a problem with recklessness, much like his human counterpart.

“At this rate there’ll be no one left at school by the summer holidays,” Alix muttered.

“It’s not that I want to leave, because I don’t! I’m just so worried, and it’s so tiring being on edge all the time…”

“Fair enough. I hope you have fun back in Cheng, then. You’ll still keep in touch, right?”

“Of course I will! Cheng has an excellent postal system, and there’s a telephone – well the telecommunication lines have been down recently because of some disruption in the Bourgeois Empire, but it’ll be fixed soon I’m sure – anyway I’ll definitely stay in touch! You’re my friend.”

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll visit someday. We can team up to beat Adrien and Kim at tennis again.”

Marinette giggled. “Oh yes, that was how we first properly met each other, wasn’t it? We’ve definitely got to have that tennis match again one day. I’m looking forward to it! Oh – I have to go pack…”

She waved and ran off. The snake was now mildly horrified – it was only just sinking in that this was the last year at school, the last few months here. How many of these people would he never see again in his life? Chloé, Sabrina, Lila and Adrien were already gone, and now Marinette was leaving too. Within a few months, everyone would be gone. It would be back to a lonely life at the palace.

“I can’t believe her guardian animal is a frickin’ bug,” Alix whispered at him. Snakes could not shrug, but if he had arms, he would have shrugged at that.

-

-

The spring dance was different to the previous ones. This time, while still officially called “formal”, the atmosphere was more relaxed. Nino was at the music table playing much better tunes than the musicians had been playing last year. Snakes did not have humanlike ears either, but there were still some things they could hear, and that included good music.

“I forgot to properly invite you but you’re coming to my kingdom for the spring holidays, and no this is not optional,” Alix said to Kim, hiding in the corner away from where all the nobles could confront her about the iconic flower petal incident last year.

“I already know that, silly!” Kim poked her on the nose. “It’s a tradition now. I always have to hang out with you in the spring holidays. And considering they start tomorrow, you probably should have asked me sooner.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m ordering you!”

“Whatever. Hey, where’s Max? I have to go dance with him, I promised I would…” He wandered off.

“Tell Max he has to visit at least once!” Alix called after him – then quickly shut up and hid in her corner again from the nobles. The snake was relieved. He didn’t want any nobles asking him about the chandelier thing either, even if they wouldn’t understand a word he said about it.

“Alix, why are you hiding in the corner?”

“Juleka! Shh! Don’t tell anyone!”

Juleka had just walked into view, and now came over looking rather smug. “You don’t want people asking you to throw flower petals at them, do you?”

“Exactly.”

“Can’t you just scare them away? You and that awesome snake of yours?”

He straightened his neck a little – it was always nice to hear compliments from Juleka. That strange, mysterious princess really seemed to like him a lot, and not just in the superficial way that most edgy people did.

“I don’t want people to be scared of me,” Alix said. “A good pharaoh is obeyed because their citizens respect them, not fear them.”

“Glad to see you pay attention in class occasionally.”

“What? No I don’t…”

Juleka looked even more smug. “You know who else pays attention in class? Markov. And you know something about Markov? He has a crush on–”

“The hologram in my sceptre,” Alix said quickly. “I know. The hologram.”

“Hmm. The hologram indeed. Someone else too, but I guess that’s none of my business… oh, except that Master Fu told me at my oracle session that I do actually have gaydar. Proper gaydar, like, supernaturally. Well, more like I can tell when someone isn’t straight. And you know what? I look at Markov, and I don’t sense anything.”

“Are you telling me that Markov is straight?”

“I guess he must be. Though since he’s still developing his emotions and everything, maybe that’ll change.”

“Are you kidding me? So I know like one straight person at this school, and it’s a robot.”

Juleka chuckled. “Our class is an interesting mix, I have to say. I realized it when Max was asking me for love advice about his crush on Kim like almost two years ago. So you’re not their first winggirl.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Sorry, it’s true. You can ask him. And as much as Kim likes to pretend he was mine and Rose’s first wingman, he’s not. Alya was. No wait – my brother was.”

Alix and the snake seemed to have the same thought. “You have a brother?! Since when?”

“Oh sorry, did I not tell you? I guess I forgot.”

Juleka was a very mysterious person who seemed to “forget” a lot of things. No wonder no one really knew much about her at all. Like her hair… were the purple ends natural? She kept them pinned back under her hat so often that sometimes they were invisible. She really was the complete opposite to Rose, and yet those two loved each other so much. Perhaps there was some truth in the “opposite attract” saying after all.

-

-

It wasn’t until almost the end of the mandatory one-hour attendance period that the snake realized something. He felt strange, very strange – oh! It was a timeline thing! Something was happening in another timeline right now, something important. Ignoring the spring dance entirely, he disappeared into his thoughts to find out what was going on.

The exile timeline. That one where a very grumpy Alix had abdicated and gone off into exile with the snake, abandoning Adrien somewhere along the way with no further thought. But in the winter holidays she had promised to go find him again, and maybe take back her kingdom while she was at it…

There! The snake now understood what was happening. He watched the event within his mind, since it somehow seemed important – the Alix from the other timeline had just found Adrien, finally, after months of searching. And not only that, but Master Fu was there too! What was going on?

“Adrien! I finally found you! I’m sorry for leaving like that, I know you didn’t want me to, I hope these last few months haven’t been complete hell…” The timeline twin did truly sound sorry, which was strange, considering that she usually just sounded grumpy.

“Oh… it’s fine…”

For once, it was Adrien who sounded grumpy. The snake concentrated further to see that they were in some kind of dark, cold tavern, late at night, nothing but flickering candles on the walls lighting up the room, the howling of the wind outside louder than anything else. Perhaps it was still on the steppe somewhere. Wherever it was, it looked very… commoner.

“Master Fu? What are you doing here with him?!”

Master Fu was sitting at the same table as Adrien, his turtle at his side looking very odd in a fluffy turtle-size coat. “I have some important news to give him, news I would have given him at his oracle session if he had been there. It could mean the difference between life and death, so it really couldn’t wait. I set out from school to find him as soon as I could.”

“Oh… am I interrupting or something? I’m sorry, I just… I’ve been looking for Adrien for ages, and finally someone said he would be here, so…”

“Why were you looking for me?” Adrien asked, still grumpy.

“Because I shouldn’t have abandoned you in the first place! It was mean! And I miss you! And I miss everyone and everything, so I came back, and this time I’m actually gonna help. I promise.”

Adrien was silent in thought for a few seconds before answering. “Well thanks for coming back. But I don’t really know how you can help anything. I can never go home, and I hate it out here, and this thing keeps happening where I just keep breaking things when I’m in a bad mood… not on purpose! I’m not destroying things! I just lay one finger on something while having negative thoughts, and it crumbles… watch this…”

He frowned in concentration and then put his hands around the mug on the table in front of him. Within a few seconds it shattered into fine dust.

“See? I’m all messed up. The commoners are calling me a sorcerer, a bad omen, things like that. Maybe they’re right. I can never be an imperial prince again, not with dark powers like these.”

“Um… this may not be the right thing to say, but that was literally the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, so…”

Master Fu cleared his throat. “This is actually what I have come to talk about. Alix, take a seat. If you’re going to help Adrien then you may as well hear all this too.”

She sat down at the table.

“Alright. Adrien, your powers are not inherently good or bad. They are simply powers, and it is what you choose to do with them that makes all the difference. There is nothing wrong with you for having powers of destruction. It is your superpower, and you are only just beginning to discover it.”

Adrien seemed ever so slightly less grumpy now. “So these aren’t dark powers? They’re… superpowers?”

“Yes. An incredibly strong superpower too, and lethal when in the wrong hands. If you want to be able to control your power properly, the wisest course of action is for you to find your guardian animal. Unfortunately, your guardian animal is in a dangerous place right now.”

“Where? Is it going to die? Will I die too? What animal is it?”

“You must return to school and find Count Wayhem. He can give your guardian animal to you.”

“Return to school?” Adrien’s face fell. “But I’m not a royal anymore, and if my father finds out, I don’t know what he’ll do… maybe he’ll lock me up again or something, but in real prison this time…”

“It is up to you whether you return or not. But don’t forget – your superpower is extraordinary. I’m sure even locked bars wouldn’t be able to keep you, if that’s where your father would put you.”

“You’re right…” His voice had a little more resolve in it now. “If my superpower is destruction, then surely I can escape from anywhere? I suppose that means… that means my father isn’t a threat to me anymore. And – and I can return to school. Right?”

Fu shrugged. “Again, it’s your decision.”

“Yes, I should go back to school! At least to get my guardian animal, if nothing else, so then I can keep it safe. And maybe I can properly confront my father this time. Though technically speaking, I am a commoner, so I don’t know if I can ever be let back into the imperial court…”

“I have some other news too,” Fu said. “The new Empress Chloé of Bourgeois has officially cut ties with the Agreste Empire.”

“What?! Chloé’s the empress?!”

“Yes. It seems the news has not reached this remote barren area yet. But with her cutting ties, it has made your father very angry. He has lost his biggest ally, and he still wants to conquer the world that hates him so much. An emperor backed into a corner is very likely to lash out, to make irrational decisions. In a way, he is more dangerous now in this unpredictable, weakened state than he has ever been. If anyone can stop him it is you. His son. The one person who may be able to make him see reason.”

Adrien sighed – not a resigned one, but an angry, exasperated one. “He won’t see reason! He never has, no matter how much I tried. But I suppose I’ll have to go stop him somehow. Someone has to. I’ll go back to school, I’ll get my guardian animal, then I’ll set my sights on the Agreste Empire and find a way to get it back, perhaps from school itself since that seems a bit safer…”

“Good. You must be careful, though. It is a tragedy that the fate of so many people rest on the shoulders of a few teenagers. Your decisions can literally change the world. Choose wisely.”

“I… I will.” Adrien turned to Alix. “You’ll come with me, right? Back to school?”

She nodded. “Yeah, guess I will. There’s a lot of people I never properly said goodbye to. And then maybe I’ll see if I can get my own country back somehow…”

“Thank you. I’m glad you came back.”

“You’re just being polite. I know you’re still mad at me.”

“Maybe a little…” He hugged her. “But I really am happy that you’re here. Anyway, we should set out tomorrow morning. It’ll take a few weeks to get to school, won’t it? We have to get there before Count Wayhem leaves for summer.”

“Take care,” Fu warned. “The Bourgeois Empire has not fully adjusted to its new leader yet. It is still on the brink of a rebellion, though things are improving. It took a lot of wiles for me to get here, and it may take even more for you to get to school in one piece.”

“Thanks for telling us all this,” Adrien said. “We won’t let you down.”

“Good. I’m sure I’ll see you again someday…”

The snake snapped out of his reverie, back to the spring dance that was occurring right in front of him. Whoa… so Adrien had superpowers too? It seemed to be a common thing amongst those with a royal bloodline. Huh, maybe that was why those people had ancestors who were chosen to be royalty in the first place. And Adrien’s guardian animal was most certainly Plagg, Wayhem’s old pet cat.

“Dude, you just saw all that too, right?” Alix said to him – the real Alix, from this timeline, whose arm he was wrapped around. “You know what this means, don’t you? It means that Fu probably went to visit Adrien in this timeline too – he’s probably in Cheng telling him all this superpower stuff right now! And that means – that means – oh I gotta find Marinette!”

He was not entirely sure what any of this had to do with Marinette, but he did not question it for now. Surely Alix would explain soon.

After questioning several nobles they finally found Marinette outside the hall in the cool night air, already heading back to her dorm.

“Marinette!” Alix called, running up to her. “You can’t go back to Cheng! You have to stay here! It’s important!”

Marinette turned around, confused. “Huh? What? Why?”

“I just saw a thing in another timeline – Fu’s gone to visit Adrien and tell him he’s got superpowers, powerful enough to defeat his evil dad probably, or something like that. And so that must have happened in this timeline too. Which means Adrien is gonna leave Cheng and make his way back here! So if you go back to Cheng, you’ll miss him halfway, and then you said you might get stuck there, but he’ll be here, and oh god I’m explaining this really badly I’m sorry.”

“Um…” Marinette blinked a few times. “You’re saying that Adrien has superpowers, and is going to use them to come back to school and confront his father, so I should stay here? Or at least just go to Dupain for the holidays?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you for telling me. I’d better do that, then.” She smiled. “I’ve got superpowers too, you know. Maybe I can help him.” With that, she turned and walked away.

So even Marinette had superpowers? Who didn’t at this point??? Maybe everyone secretly did.

“You know, pal,” Alix said to the snake, giving him a stroke, “I get the feeling we just changed the course of history. Do you feel that too?”

Oddly enough, he got what she meant. Something important had just happened, in all the timelines, though it was impossible to describe how or why. Something big was brewing on the horizon. Supposedly the dreaded timeline split could happen at any moment between now and the summer holidays, and it was suddenly seeming closer than ever before.

[adelindschade]

The Great Stockholm Adventure, P1

Caroline awoke to two things: blinding light & aroma of delicious hot coco.

She rose with a groan, focusing her eyes on the familiar figure sitting on the bed side and to the steaming cup she held out. Caroline happily intercepted the mug, enjoying both the warmth and the richness it radiated.

“Thank you. You’re a God-sent,” she mumbled on the rim, savoring the concoction. It tasted like heaven. “Where are we?” She finally asked, utterly confused as she took in their surroundings.

The hotel room was huge. And that was just the bedroom! Hell, there was a chandelier hanging above them. Were ceilings usually that high? Besides the point. A freaking chandelier! A glitzy, gold, very antique looking one, and oh so beautiful. Ah, she could cry. If that wasn’t fancy enough, the view was to die for. The heavy drapes were pulled apart to revealing an ocean view.  Was that an ocean? It was some sort of harbor, with plenty of boats docked by the street – and she had never seen so many old buildings like the ones she was seeing. They were huge, probably uber historic, too. She could see everything – the windows were huge. They touched the floor and the ceiling! Once her eyes could adjust to the light, she could definitely appreciate the view.

Shit – was that a balcony, too!?

She was tempted to scramble out of bed, just to pry the doors apart to fully appreciate the city, but Katherine blocked her. Caroline’s eyes wandered to the other part of the room. Past Katherine were a set of very tall, French-looking doors that led into an even bigger room.

It looked luxurious. It smelled expensive. It was definitely way beyond Caroline’s budget.

“How’d we get here?” Caroline stammered as the realization dawned. “How did we pay for this?”

“Not sure,” Katherine bit her bottom lip. However, the elder vampire had a twinkle in her devilish eyes. “I know we’re in Stockholm. I have no idea how we got here though.”

“How drunk did we get?” Caroline asked, more so to herself.

“Drunk enough to… steal passports,” Katherine reached over to the table and plucked the two booklets. She started to chuckled and grinned. “We must have compelled our way through the airport because there is no way this is legitimate.”

Her laughter was contagious as Caroline looked at the photo identifications.

“No way,” Caroline joined. “Oh no, how on earth did we get our hands on this? Are these… are these the passports Stefan forged? Because that’s definitely meant for Elena but, really, Rebecca? Really, Stefan? How original,” she couldn’t help but grin, shaking with laughter. “You must have claimed this one. What’s the other one?”

Katherine smirked. “This one belongs to,” she snorted, “Miss. Barbara Wolf.”

“How much you want to bet Damon had something to do with that one?” Caroline raised a brow. “I don’t even look like that. He had to pull that photo off some generic Stock Photos site. Ugh. As if.”

“Well, it got us here!” Katherine boasted, very much amused.

Caroline joined in, laughing along.

“How drunk did we have to get to steal passports, book a flight across the ocean, and snag a dream of a room? By the way, how the hell did we manage that? Did we steal someone’s card? Oh God, please no. Ugh.” She discarded her cup onto the table and covered her face with both hands.

That’d get someone hot on their trail.

“Nope,” Katherine reassured. “We must have taken Stefan’s emergency stash, too. I counted what’s left of it. Wanna hit the shops later?”

“Seriously?” Caroline didn’t bother to fight the smile on her face. “This is amazing.”

“We must have been plastered,” Katherine shook her head in disbelief.

“It must have taken us… I remember raiding Damon’s stash at, like, midnight…”

“The flight is easily twelve hours,” Katherine contributed.

“Twelve hours?? Half a day??” Caroline gawked.

“Don’t forget, we have a six-hour difference here. We’re…” she leaned over to look at the clock, “six hours ahead. Right now, it’s almost noon.”

“So, it’s six-am back home,” Caroline reclined back into the pillows. “Give or take the half-day we killed, we probably left… okay, no, I can’t compute any of that yet. Ugh. My head is still reeling.”

“Either way. We here. Not there. We have sufficient funds to kill. We stole their stuff. All in all, we made out like bandits.” Katherine grinned broadly.

“We did, didn’t we?” Caroline giggled.

“We certainly did,” Katherine gloated. “We’re going to use this opportunity to test your new knowledge on Villainy. Considering this a field trip for Villain 101. How does it feel to be on the bad side for once?”

“The view is great,” Caroline joked. “I don’t mind field experience. Ooh – did we bring clothes? I can’t exactly go out like this,” Caroline gestured to her pajama set.

Katherine nodded to the duffle bag discarded by the dresser. “Even when you’re drunk, you came prepared. You brought extra luggage, too. It’s in the living room.”

“We have a living room?” Caroline exclaimed incredulously.

“Oh, by the way. Our phones are dead. I have them charged in the kitchen. I’m not sure if we should turn them on.” Katherine looked weary.

“Oh,” Caroline cringed. She already anticipated the onslaught of messages.

“Wanna play a game?” Katherine enticed.

“What kind of game?”

“To see who got the most calls,” Katherine shrugged.

“Oh, I’d definitely win,” Caroline asserted confidently. “Stefan is probably losing his mind. Klaus…. Klaus would know by now because neither Stefan or Damon can keep their lips shut for once moment. Oh, Klaus…. Fuck my life! He’s going to blow up my phone. Then he’s going to send his little spies to find me. Then… oh God, he’s never going to let up! Fuck my life. I just have to pick them, don’t I? Then Bonnie… Bonnie will be just as bad. Elena, eh, I don’t think she’d be the worst of them. MOM! HOLY – Oh God, my mom is going to be worried sick! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“Elijah will be nosy. ‘Where are you, Katerina?’ ‘Answer me, Katerina. I won’t ask twice.’ ‘Katerina, if you don’t respond within the next hour…’ Ugh, you’d think I’d get peace from the man after he broke up with me! Stefan will be infuriated, obviously. I stole his stash and his best friend. I’m not the least bit remorseful,” Katherine winked.

“Ugh, okay, let’s get this over with,” Caroline rose, ignoring the drop of her stomach. Now was not the time to be anxious. She shook off her blanket and slid out the other side of the bed. “I’m going to need all the coffee I can get my hands on while we wait out the phone-apocalypse.”

“There’s a charming little shop in the lobby,” Katherine chirped. “By the time we get back, our phones will be positively full. How about it?”

“Extra expresso, please,” Caroline pouted.

“I can buy you all the expresso,” Katherine grinned. She waved a wad of cash she had grabbed from the dresser. “Maybe even some strudel.”

“I would love some strudel,” Caroline smiled.

Before leaving the room, Katherine had grabbed the key card and turned on both phones resting by the sink. They closed the heavy door behind them before the incessant bell of notifications erupted from either device.

The women looped arms and took their time canvassing the hall.

“Ooh! You should see their pool! I saw it earlier when I was grabbing breakfast! It’s gorgeous. It just like, a room, just full of water, that you walk into! You just right in and they have live fire above the water’s surface in the corners! Remind me to book a spa treatment before we leave. Their facility is to die for.”

“How did you wake up earlier than me?” Caroline retorted. “Did we pack bathing suits?”

“You packed four. I don’t know what we planned but you took care of everything.” Katherine chuckled. “Also, I’m older, and I have a greater tolerance. Hey, I let you sleep in. Be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” Caroline preened. She leaned into Katherine. “Thank you, Katherine, for pulling me into your deviancy. Aren’t I such a good student?”

“The best one. You’re going to excel Villain 101.” Katherine patted her head. “Ooh, you need to brush this out.” She played with a loose curl.

“Hey! Coffee first,” Caroline stuck out her tongue out.

“Coffee first,” Katherine agreed.

The girls were met cheerfully at the coffee stand. The barista amazed them with his speediness and Caroline thanked him profusely for the delicious product. He spoke loose English. Katherine, in turn, thanked him in his native tongue, earning a beaming smile from the young man. Of course, Katherine knew Swedish. What didn’t she know? At least Caroline was comforted she had a fluent translator.

Caroline made a note to self to buy some sort of book. She would try to pick up some of language during her stay.

They took their time returning to their room. Both were hesitant to be greeted by what waited on their phones.

“Here goes nothing,” Caroline groaned unexcitedly.

The pair was met with silence.

“Maybe there aren’t that many messages,” Caroline smiled meekly. They approached the counter hesitantly and simultaneously lifted their phones. Their stomachs churned.

“Alright, we should count missed calls first,” Katherine pitched.

“Collectively? Or per person?” Caroline inquired.

“Collectively,” Katherine replied after a moment’s pondering.

“One… Two… Three… On!” Caroline lead.

Their home screens lit up brightly.

“I have fourteen missed calls,” Katherine announced. “Eight from Stefan, three from Damon, two from Elijah – wow – just two? Asshole… and one from Little Miss Perfect.”

Caroline gawked at her screen. “Yeah, this in insane. Seventy-seven missed calls. Just calls! Holy shit! nineteen from my mother alone…. Since yesterday! Oh God, she’s going to be a mess. Okay, um, eighteen from Stefan, eleven from Bonnie, four from Elena, three from Damon, and – are you fucking kidding me – get this, Katherine – twenty-two from Mystic Fall’s least favorite Hybrid.”

“Alright, you won the phone call category. What about voice mail?”

“This is not going to be pretty,” Caroline cringed.

“I’ll go and then you go. Let’s choose…. This one,” Katherine decided. “This is from our favorite Bunny-eater.”

“’Katherine, where are you? Is Caroline okay? Why won’t she answer the phone? Call me back as soon as you can. We’re worried sick.’ Well, that one was mild. I’m guessing that was before he lost his sanity. Okay, you go.”

“Let’s… I’m not ready to hear my mom quite yet… neither am I ready to hear Bonnie… and Stefan is probably going to say the same thing… ugh, okay, Damon only left one, so let’s click that one. ‘Hey blondie, what the hell were you thinking? Get your ass back here! Stefan is going crazy, Bonnie is on a rampage, your mother is in a panic, and you know what? The faster the you get back here, the less trouble you’re going to be in. Everyone is pissed. I’m so close to calling the Big Baddy.’”

“I have six more,” Katherine read from her screen.

“I have twenty-nine,” Caroline deadpanned.

“You’re a popular girl,” Katherine sniggered.

“How about you play Elijah’s?” Caroline teased.

“If only you play Klaus’s,” Katherine was game.

“Pick which one,” she showed her screen, listing the dozen he had left in her mailbox. Katherine boomed with laughter.

“Well, Elijah, let’s hear what you have to say.” Katherine sneered. “’Katerina, what have you done with Caroline? My brother is upset. The misfits are out for your head. What have you gotten yourself into now? I’m not happy. I expect an answer.’”

“Direct,” Caroline noted.

“Ironic,” Katherine rolled her eyes. “He told me he wanted nothing to do with me.”

“But he insists on knowing about your whereabouts,” Caroline smirked. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“He’s a prick. Just like his brother. Speaking about that bastard, let’s hear what he has to say. In fact, since you have so many to choose from…. here, let me pick one.” Caroline obliged Katherine and extended her phone. Katherine mused for a second before selecting a random choice.

“’Caroline, answer your phone! I am not amused. Katherine is not someone you should be associating yourself with! I understand you have a particular habit of forgiving certain breeds, but she is a pedigree bitch that will have no qualms about disposing you should she grow bored!  You can see how that concerns me. I need to know where you’re at. We will be having words about your choice of company when I find you.’”

“Wow,” Katherine swallowed. “That was a bit much.”

“Pedigree bitch? Now sure if you should be insulted or flattered,” Caroline snorted.

“Disposable? Please, you’re one of my first, true friends. I wouldn’t get rid of you that easily,” Katherine scrunched her nose. “See’s how little he knows.”

“Aww, you care,” Caroline teased.

“Sounds like so does he,” Katherine pointed. “You have him wrapped around that little finger of yours. Can we play the rest?”

“Uh, no. I need to call my mom ASAP. She should know I’m safe.”

“Oh, by the way, twenty-three text messages.” Katherine read aloud.

“Ha, beat you again. I have fifty-eight. It’s been less than twenty-four hours. What the hell…”

Caroline found her mother’s number and hit the CALL button without hesitation. She barley had to wait for it to ring before her mother’s voice all but shrieked.

“Caroline! Is that you? Are you okay? Where are you? Caroline? Are you there?”

Caroline grimaced. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m so sorry for making you worried. I’m totally fine. Trust me. I just… took a sporadic trip. I was kind of drunk but honestly, I don’t regret it. It’s beautiful here. I won’t say where because I know someone is going to follow us here. Just know we’re fine and enjoying the scenery.”

“Caroline!” Her mother scolded. She sighed. “I’m glad. Please don’t do that again. I was worried sick. You’re not hurt?”

“Nope. Just a little hungover. We have coffee though and going to shop a bit. Do you want anything?”

“Caroline,” her mother groaned. “I just want you back home, safe and sound. We’re worried about you.”

“Tell them I’m fine. I just needed to get away. The drama was getting a bit too much. I’m in good hands.”

“Alright…” her mother sounded skeptical. “You should let the others know yourself. They called reinforcements.”

“Let me guess, Klaus?”

“He’s really angry, Caroline. It’d do us a favor if you could reassure him. He already snapped Damon’s neck three times.”

“Not that he didn’t deserve it,” Caroline grinned. Katherine chuckled.

“Caroline, please.”

“Fine, mom. I’ll call them. I have to go. I love you.”

“I love you, too. When will you be home?”

“Not sure. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Take care. Be safe.”

“Always. Bye, Mom.”

“Talk to you later, Caroline.”

Caroline disconnected the call and let out a heavy sigh.

“One person down, so many others to go. Who’s next…”

“I’d say Stefan, or Klaus. They’re both losing their heads.”

“Err, you make a good point. How about this? You call Stefan, tell him we’re okay, and I’ll call Klaus. Two birds, one stone!”

“Fine,” Katherine agreed disgruntledly. “You call Klaus first. I want to hear this.”

“Fine, then we’ll put Stefan on speaker.”

“Stop stalling, call the son-of-a-bitch.”

“Fine, pushy,” Caroline growled. She ignored the flop of her stomach and highlight his name in her contacts. “This is going to be so much fun,” she whined as the call initiated. It rung two times before the call was picked up. Both girls perked.

“Caroline?”

Klaus was pissed. Katherine winced. Caroline wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Hi,” she meekly replied.

“Hello,” he returned stiffly. “Would you care to inform me about your recent whereabouts? I’d rather not hear from your friends you disappeared with a known psychopath. I’ve spent the last day trying to follow your tracks, but I admit, much to your talent, I cannot trace you. Let’s rectify that. Now, Caroline.”

Caroline instantly felt defiant.

“Excuse me, bossy, but she’s not the only psychopath I know! You tried to kill my friends, too. Second, I like my little vacation, and I’m going to make the most of it. So, no, I won’t tell you where we are, because you’re going to ruin it. I only called to let you know that I’m fine, I’m happy, and you can stop terrorizing my friends. Thanks!”

“This is not a game, Caroline! You could get hurt or killed! I won’t allow that.”

“You can’t really have much of a say about that if you don’t know where I am anyways,” Caroline retorted smartly.

“Now is not the time to play games, love.”

“Really? Because I thought those were your favorite pastime,” Caroline chirped. Katherine sniggered silently. “You spent hundreds of years tracking Katherine. Why am I any different?”

“Caroline, tell me now!”

“Nope,” Caroline grinned. “I’m liking this. It’s driving you insane.”

“You’re going to regret this, love. It’s for your safety you tell me where you’re at. Now.”

“I’m going to regret this over much needed retail therapy and chocolate delights. I’ll take my chances.”

“When I find you, you’re going to mark my words.”

“Oh, you’re right – small town life, small town boy? Soo over that.”

“Not the words I was referring to but I’m glad you took some of my advice. You’re timing isn’t as convenient.

“Oh boo-hoo,” Caroline mocked. “I’m a big girl, Klaus. I’m going to be okay. I have a translator and more cash than I know what to do with.”

“If you want me to chase you, Caroline, you know I will. You better hope I don’t catch you.”

“I’m counting on it,” Caroline grinned. “Good luck, Klaus.”

She hung up the call and squealed.

“I did that!” Caroline bounced. “I totally just did that!”

“Living life on the edge? Taunting the big-bad? Extra points to you, Forbes,” Katherine applauded. “You know he won’t give up. He’s not going to stop until he gets his hands on you. Good luck, my friend. You don’t know what you got yourself into.”

“Oh, whatever. Okay, call Stefan.”

“Already on it,” Katherine replied. Stefan took longer to answer.

“Katherine, where’s Caroline?” Stefan didn’t skip a beat.

“I’m right here. Calm your protective ass down,” Caroline replied aloud.

“Yeah, I even bought her coffee and woke her up with hot chocolate. I’ve been a wonderful host.” Katherine scowled.

“She truly has,” Caroline confirmed. Both women shared smile.

“Where are you?” Stefan demanded.

“Australia,” Caroline sarcastically chipped.

“Iceland,” Katherine replied simultaneously.

“Seriously, guys! Why would you go MIA like that?” Stefan seethed.

“Because… we were drunk and bored?” Caroline offered.

“Not good enough of an answer, Caroline!” Stefan yelled.

“Good enough for us,” Katherine disagreed cheekily.

“We called Klaus because we thought the worst!”

“I know,” Caroline deadpanned. “I have his crazy ass harassing my phone. Thanks for that. I won’t shake him off. It’s going to ruin the mood.”

“The mood!? Caroline! I thought you were dead!”

“Be honest, Stefan,” Katherine interrupted. “You didn’t notice we were gone until we were out of Virginia. You were too wrapped up with Elena and her newest stalker. It’s getting old. I’m treating Caroline like a real friend. Speaking of such, time is short, so we’re gonna go.”

“Don’t you dare!” Stefan shouted. Katherine had disconnected the call before he could finish his sentence.

“I’m gonna call Bonnie and get dressed. I want to see what Stockholm has to offer,” Caroline smiled.

“I’ll be ignoring Elijah and deciding what shoes to wear.”

“Okay!”

Caroline had brushed her hair into a messy bun, shifted through her clothes for a pair of sunglasses, settled for jeans and a red halter top. A pair of black boots sealed the outfit.

“What do you mean you won’t tell me where you’re at? You tell me everything!”

“And you’ll tell Elena, or Stefan, or anyone, and then my fun will be ruined. Bonnie, I’m somewhere new and exciting! I want to enjoy it, even if it’s with Katherine, who whether you believe it or not, is decent company! We spent the whole night bonding over our bad choices in guys and decided it was time to reclaim our lives. Let me enjoy this, Bonnie, without Mystic Falls meddling, please?”

“Fine,” Bonnie relented, “but you’ll tell me updates! All the time!”

“Of course,” Caroline clapped. “Ah, I’m so excited. I’m going to send you pictures but you can’t show anyone! With my luck, they’re going to be intercepted and I’ll have Klaus on my ass to drag me back home. I’m not ready for that. I’m going to go now. I love you, Bon-Bon!”

“I love you, too, Care-Bear. Be safe!”

“Always,” Caroline assured before closing the call.  She yelled out to her companion. “I’m good to go! You ready, Kat?”

“Yeah! Come on, the day is short.”

“Stockholm, here we come!”

TO BE CONTINUED Klaroline/Kalijah/KOL/and so much more to come.

[bashwrote]

The Way We Were

Jason Todd x Reader

Words: 1,270

 Nothing could adequately describe the pain found in dying. You knew this best- though being alive once more hurt even more than the fatal blow. Even after several years had passed since being revived, and though all physical pain had all but gone, emotionally you were ruined. Ruined and a freak alone in the world.

God, did you miss living. Because what you did now, well that wasn’t half as close to what being alive felt like. Being alive wasn’t a burden anymore, the Y/n that was alive didn’t stoop to such low levels to remain hidden. You decided that it was better that way, to keep the reinstated mortality away from those you left behind. To do so you became desperate, becoming something more than the hero people were left knowing you as.

They wouldn’t mourn if they knew you came back, a hero who didn’t deserve being alive again. Your old life wouldn’t even be able to recognize you now.

“Hey!” A sharp yell startled you out of your stupor, bringing you back to the present and away from your thoughts.

Grasped firmly in your hands was a bundle of gems, only just ripped from the neck of a Gotham socialite. You had been in the middle of fleeing from her most recent heist, when you were struck by being back in your old turf. Back as something else this time.

An annoyed groan tore out of your mouth, disguising the surprise at seeing someone who used to be your friend. You should have expected seeing Red Robin, being in Gotham at the moment. If it had been up to you, you would still be on the opposite Coast. Actually, you’d be comfortably settled in the ground still if you had the choice.

Nonetheless, you were stuck in a position you didn’t want to be in. You knew how smart Tim was, knew he’d notice the similarities between you and who you used to be. Even if they hadn’t known each other long, as you met her demise shortly after Tim took up the mantle, he’d know Y/n was still alive.

Alive and well while Jason was still dead.

It was better for everyone that you remained dead.

Which is why you tried to deepen your voice slightly underneath the full face ornate mask.

“Well look what the cat drug in, a little Robin.” Your stance switched from startled to casual as you dangled a few necklaces from her gloved fingertips.

You knew you had to get out fast, especially after seeing Red Robin’s eye mask narrow.

“While this little meet up has been fun, I should get going.” You began to slowly move, watching Red Robin echo your movement. “Ya know, places to see, jewels to be snagged.”

Watching Tim tense up, you jumped sharply to the left, dodging the leap he sprung at you.

With a heavy grunt, you threw yourself over a piece of furniture. “You sure don’t make this easy!”

He didn’t say anything, only reaching into his stashed compartment and blindingly throwing a rope to latch onto you.

You had barely dodge in time, silently thankful that you had been there to see Tim learn that maneuver.

Which is how you knew to counter and throw the rope back at him.

“Ugh!”

Though you felt bad, your voice held no remorse. “Sorry birdbrain.”

You found your escape through the window, using the metal framework of the building to climb to the roof. The combined bite of jagged metal and freezing air assaulted your skin. It was almost familiar, in a way, as it reminded you of long nights spent training on the Gotham landscapes.

But that was then, and you still had to complete the heist. The time of remembrance and sentiment was beyond her now.

“Wow, the Bat really wants to stop me, huh?” You said bitingly, as you saw another figure upon arriving on the roof.

The figure, one of the newly turned Bat prodigies, turned around, the apparently male’s face concealed with a bulky red helmet. The Red Hood.

“Pfft, you’re not that important Y/v/n, neither is petty theft.” He sounded annoyingly smug.  “But that file you stole from Waller last night is.”

The grasp around the jewels in your hand slackened. You were also hyper aware that the file was still on your person, folded away in your utility belt. Every fiber of your being restrained you from automatically darting your eyes towards the unsecure location.

You didn’t dare to move, especially when you heard Red Robin land behind you.

Though you did once they both lunged towards your form. The string of pearls and several bulky rings were thrown into the red helmet, the weapon on your hip was thrown at Tim.

Your movements were almost like a dancer, light and nimble. The ornate full face mask added to the affect. However, the precise jab of your weapon was hardly anything on the two you were fighting. Especially when all you wanted to do was leave.

You regretted coming back to Gotham, gathering that file wasn’t worth seeing a bittersweet glimpse of your old life.

It was too much, to be on the other side against your family, to be here once more without Jason. To be alive.

“Remind me again why I can’t shoot her!” The red hooded one yelled, fed up with having you tie a rope around his neck.

Your legs were rapidly kicking Tim as he replied. “You know why!”

Your movements stalled.

“This is getting ridiculous!” He yelled, in one fluid movement grabbing your upper arms and heaving you over his head and face first into the buildings railing.

As it happened, your mask shattered against the concrete.

“Give up, Y/n.”

You felt pitiful and small, looking up at Tim. “You knew.”

“C’mon Y/n, if I could figure out Batman’s identity, yours was nothing.” He smirked slightly, extending an arm down.

You shook your head incredulously, leaning against the railing. “You aren’t going to ask how I’m alive?”

“Ha, sorry Y/n, but you aren’t the first.” The other male moved closer, releasing his mask with a metallic pressure release. “Becoming a bad guy was also my thing first.”

Tim rolled his eyes, adding to your confusion. “Shut up.”

“Okay, what the hell is- Jason?” Your eyes widened almost comically, taking in the once teenager who had died a few months before you.

“Hey babe.” He sounded and looked so much older.

Guilt rushed forward, heightened by the revelation and emotional exhaustion. You hadn’t felt so many emotions so strongly since you had been first brought back to life. You wanted to cry, maybe even scream and shout, and also apologize for not looking for him.

You had a watery laugh. “Hey.”

You were both different, changed after being brought back.

“I guess we’re both pretty cliché-y.” You agreed, handing the file to Tim who shuffled about awkwardly.

Jason smirked. “The movie rights itself, the Outlaw and the petty theft.” You rolled your eyes, finally standing up. “I prefer bandit.”  

He didn’t reply, and you were too fixated on his face and the white strip of hair that fell over his domino mask. “I really missed you, Jay.”

His embrace was enough of a reply.

You knew things between you two were far from the smitten teenagers you had been years prior. You both were far too gone to even pretend nothing had changed. But for now, who you weren’t was enough.

“… so, uh, I’m just going to go.” Tim spoke, his escape falling on deaf ears.

[themadlostgirl]

Not Dead Yet (Part 18)

*I have been staring at this chapter for days debating with myself over the development. But you all have given me such love and I like this chapter too much to change it. Hope you like it too!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

“Wakey wakey.” I shook Pan awake the next morning. “We have a lot of walking to do.”

“For god’s sake woman, why do you have to get up so early?” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Stop complaining. You’re the one that wanted to get to a town so let’s go.” It seemed to take him a moment to remember what had happened yesterday. When he came to he gave me a dirty look and spent the next ten minutes grumbling about getting us stuck in this situation.

“So, Pan, any idea on how we’re going to find a way back home?”

“Hit up the black markets and dodgy parts of town. We’re bound to find something sooner or later.” he shrugged, “Also, it might be safer for you to stop calling me Pan when we’re here.”

“Why?”

“Enchanted Forest. I’ve made some enemies, most of them from here. If they were to catch wind of me being here with no way to escape then it could prove rather bad for us.”

“What do you want me to call you? Andrew? Robert? Eugene?”

“Peter will suffice.” he rolled his eyes, “Don’t look so giddy, it’s just my name.”

“Yeah, but you never let anyone call you by your first name.”

“Details, details…”

“Well, glad to have the non-honor, Peter.”

He shoved me but I could tell it was in good spirits. I knocked him back and we kept shoving each other like that until I ended up body slamming him to the ground. He stared up at me in shock before an oddly calm grin took over his features. “You are gonna pay for that one, Lost Girl!”

“Only if you can catch me!” I took off running and he followed after me. When he did catch up he tackled me to the ground. “Nice one, Pete.”

He turned me over and cocked an eyebrow up at me. “What? Don’t like Pete?”

“No.” he said in a very serious tone that made me chuckle. “Something funny?”

“No, no...you just got so serious.” I teased.

“Come on,” he pulled me up.

“I guess I can’t call you Petey then either, huh?”

At this his eye started twitching. “Calm down I was just joking. You need to find yourself a sense of humor.”

After a couple hours Peter and I found a town and using some money I pickpocketed got a room in the inn. Sleeping outside was no problem but it was freezing here. One small room with only one bed and a hard wooden chair created some issues. It took some serious arguing on my end to get him to even allow me to stay in the room. According to him since it was my fault we were stuck here I should have slept on the floor but I reminded him that we only got this room from the money I pickpocketed so I deserved it more. In the end we ended up having to share the bed which, let me tell you, wasn’t easy!

“Keep your feet on your side!” I shoved his freezing feet away from me.

“Well I would if you didn’t hog all the blankets!”

“Maybe you’d be warmer if you put a shirt on!”

“I can’t sleep with a shirt on! You’re not wearing any pants!”

“Cause they’re caked with mud!”

“For the love of--” he yanked hard on the blanket, pulling more to his side.

“I don’t have any now!”

“How about you complain about it more, I’m sure that’ll warm you up.”

“Fine, I don’t need a blanket. My seething anger will keep me warm.”

“Sounds good to me.” he rolled over so his back was to me. I curled into myself trying to retain some body heat and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The ringing of bells woke me up the next morning. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and realized I was alone in the room. Where had Peter gone so early in the morning? As if he knew I was thinking about him Peter strode back in with a bundle of clothing and wearing something that wasn’t his. “What’s all this?”

“If we’re going to be stuck here we need to blend in or else the townspeople are going to think we’re nothing but bandits.” he threw me some clothes, “Get dressed.”

“Alright.” I stood up and stripped out of my old worn shirt and into the dress Peter had found me. “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“Stop complaining.” he tossed me my dagger. “Also keep that concealed, nothing screams suspicious than a girl with a bloody knife.”

After we were dressed we left to get some breakfast and look around the village. It was a rather large village bustling with activity and a castle way up on the horizon. I wonder whose kingdom we were in?

We went around to some seedy shops looking for some form of magic to get us back home. Everywhere we looked though the seller either tried to pass off junk to us or simply didn’t have anything magical.

“This is getting tedious.” I groaned, “I know I’m not well versed in magical objects but even I could tell that was just some crudely painted piece of wood.”

“Oh no, Y/N, it was a rare charm specially made to find magic beans out in the wilds.” Peter grinned and I found myself smiling back. “But in all honesty we are being shown nothing but junk it seems.”

“What do we do now?”

“Care for something to eat?”

“Yes please.” I snuck some coins off a passerby and we grabbed some bread and cheese at a stand.

“Hey, I have a serious question for you.” Peter broke off some bread I was holding.

“What’s that?”

“Do you really not know what a camel is?”

“What?”

“When I was telling you about the spinner women I mentioned one of them had a lip that drooped like a camel and you said--”

“Okay, I get it. No, I do not know what a camel is. What’s a camel?”

“It’s an animal, kind of like a horse but with a longer neck and their back has these large bumps on them.” he explained, “I can tell by the idiot expression you aren’t getting this.”

“Here,” I pulled a wanted poster off a wall, “Draw me a picture.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Draw me a picture of a camel.”

“Fine.” He pulled me into the inn and we sat down near the fire. With a piece of charcoal in hand he set to work as I nibbled at the cheese we bought.

“So focused.” I tried to peer at the paper.

“You will wait until I’m finished.” he blocked it from view with his arm.

“Ugh, you artists.” I rolled my eyes. A minute later he slid the paper across to me. “I’d say it looks just like the real thing but y’know…”

“Thanks,” he snatched the paper back.

“But for real, you can really draw.” I stood up and grabbed another wanted poster off the wall and turned it over for him. “Draw me something else?”

“I demand pay for my creations madam!” he said in an overly grandiose voice.

“Then you shall receive it kind sir.” I tossed him a silver coin. “Now give me a drawing worthy to hang on my palace walls!”

“As the madam wishes, I will draw you the most beautiful portrait of my career.” I tried not to laugh as he set to his drawing. While I waited for him to finish I grabbed a book that was laying on a nearby table and began to read. I hadn’t had to read in so long I was afraid I might have forgotten.

The night grew late and I felt myself starting to nod off. “Hey, Y/N,” Peter tapped my arm perking me awake again, “Your grand piece of art.”

“Done?” I took the paper. His hands were covered in charcoal smears and there were charcoal shavings from him sharpening it. “You really put a lot of work into this didn’t you?”

“Of course. I promised my best work.”

“Then let’s see this…” my words trailed into nothing as I took in the drawing. It’s...it’s me. I didn’t look in mirrors all day but the likeness was uncanny. It was my profile staring down at something with focus.

“You drew me?” I sought his face. He was already looking at me when I faced him. Those hard green eyes were softer and his cocky smirk was replaced with a gentle smile.

“Yeah. Well you were sitting right there reading and the way the firelight was casting the shadows it…” he dropped my gaze like the act burned him, “I drew you. So what?”

I looked back down at the drawing. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t anything.” he shrugged. “I’m going to get a drink, you want one?”

“Oh no. It’s late, I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” I folded the drawing and stuck it in my skirt pocket. “If you get drunk though and bring up some floozy I will throw you out the window. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave a mock salute as he wandered toward the bar.

I don’t know what it is but since leaving Neverland Peter was nicer. He was nice to me enough when we weren’t trying to kill each other but here things were different. It felt easy. Walking around town, joking, talking, and whatnot. That was the only way I could describe it. Things were easy. I felt like a wall had been torn down after years of chipping. He was still my leader and the boy that has tried to kill me numerous times no doubt, he was still Pan. Just watching him saunter over to the bar while I climbed the stairs to our room felt blissfully mundane. A part of me almost wished that we wouldn’t find a portal back to Neverland if it kept this lull of peace going on just a bit longer.

I went back to our room and changed out of the dress and back into my traveling shirt. At least I don’t have to fight for the bed tonight. I pulled the blankets up to my chin and was soon asleep.

Peter was true to his word and didn’t bring any floozies up to the room in a drunken stupor. What I did wake up to though was far stranger. He was back in the bed with his head laying on my chest and an arm wrapped around my middle fast asleep.

Okay...how do I get out of this?

I started to peel his arm off me then stopped when I caught a look at his face. He looked so peaceful. Everything about him was intense all the time that to see this was strange. Without realizing it I had brought a hand up to his head, running my fingers through his hair.

“What am I doing?” I whispered to myself and slid out from underneath him. The movement woke him up and he sat up. He gave me bleary glare.

“Why do you have to get up early all the time?” he flopped back against the bed.

“Habit.” I pulled the blanket off the bed. “Come on, we’re burning daylight.”

He begrudgingly got out of bed and the pair of us went back into town for another day of searching. I didn’t mention the fact that I had woken up intertwined with him. I doubt it would have gone over well and he probably would have just found a way to tease me with it.

After our failure yesterday we weren’t too optimistic on our chances of finding a magic bean or some other kind of realm jumper today. After the first dozen of rotten back alleys Peter was cranky and I was hungry. We went back to the inn early just as the sun was starting to dip on the horizon.

“I’m starving.” I moaned, “Got any money for food?”

“No, but we don’t need any.” he pulled me up off the bed. “I heard wedding bells ringing earlier and the inn was bustling with activity. I’m sure they wouldn’t notice if there are two extra guests at the reception.”

“We don’t exactly look like we’d fit in at a wedding reception do we?” I gestured to our stolen clothes and dirtied faces.

“Easily remedied.” he waved his hand and the pair of us were cleaned up. Peter dressed in a white shirt, green coat and black pants with matching black boots. I looked down at myself and saw that I was now wearing a red velvet gown embroidered with golden ivy leaves at the sleeves and neck.

“Really?”

“You love it you know you do.” he smirked back at me with a proffered arm. “Now, shall we?”

I rolled my eyes but took his arm and we went downstairs to join the festivities. We must have looked like we fit in quite well as others came up greeting us with smiles and offering us drinks and food. We sat down and filled our bellies with hot chicken, fresh bread, buttery potatoes and sweet cake, not to mention a good amount of wine and ale.

Music pulsated through the inn and everyone was dancing jubilantly. Well almost everyone. Peter and I sat away from the dancers, content to sip wine and chat amongst ourselves. Everyone looked to be having such fun though…

“Excuse me,” one of the young men from the bridal party approached us, “Care to dance miss?”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Peter said before I could answer.

“Yes, she would.” I stood up taking the boy’s hand, “Just cause you don’t dance doesn’t mean I don’t have to.”

“Y/N…” he warned.

“Like you were ever going to ask me.” I rolled my eyes and let myself be led out towards the other dancers. The boy held onto my waist as we started twirling to the music. I let out a wine induced giggle as the stranger and I danced.

The song ended and another began to swell anew. A different boy came up to me looking for a dance but was intercepted by Peter who pulled me away. I was pressed into him before being spun out and back in. “What’s this about?”

“Me asking you for a dance.” he shrugged.

“You didn’t ask though.” I reminded him.

“Details…” He held tight to my waist, spinning me so my feet scarcely touched the ground. Maybe it was the wine or the party or a combination of the two but we danced the entire night through, drowning reality with fantasy. Anytime someone tried to cut in Peter pulled me away with a cold look at whoever came near. I knew none of this would last. We were just playing pretend until we found a way back to Neverland. That was even if Peter still wanted me to come back once we did find a way. Until then I was content here dancing with him, tipsy and carefree.

It was like a dream. One of those dreams where everything feels so real and you’re so happy but the moment you wake up it fades into nothing leaving you empty in a way you can’t explain. That’s all this was, and I was dreading the moment when we finally woke up.

A line dance started and everyone was stomping their feet and shouting with good cheer making me forget my worries once more. One by one couples went down the line starting with the newly married couple. Peter and I ran down the tunnel of people, hands tightly intertwined and brows glistening with sweat.

Skipping, spinning, twirling in and out along with the wild frenzied beat until the song struck it last triumphant note and Peter and I were pressed flushed against each other breathing deep and smiling wide. His gaze flickered to my lips before leaning and pushing his mouth against mine. I could taste wine and sweat as I kissed him back. It was by no means a pretty kiss. It was hungry and gasping and passionate and fervid. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck so to get a better angle.

His hands wandered down to my hips. The music was drowned out by the sound of my heart pounding hard in my ears. He pulled away from my lips to nuzzle his face into my neck. His hot breath puffing like fire against my already scorching skin.

Then the dream came crashing down.

“Peter?” We froze and Peter pulled away. There was a girl with powder blonde hair and a worn pink dress staring at us with disgust. “You--you--!”

“Ah, Scarlet?” His voice sounded deeper than it did earlier.

“Giselle!” the girl screeched.

“Right...uh...how have you been?”

“Impatient, waiting for my dear lover to return with the ring he promised me!” The noise of the inn lowered as the others stopped to watch the scene.

“Oh my god…” I snorted.

“You! You’re the one that defiled my daughter!” A very large man approached us, murder in his eyes.

“Uh Y/N, I think it’s time for us to go.” He pulled on my hand and we made a shot for the door. We ran out into the town square and stumbled down into an alley out of sight. When it looked like we weren’t being followed we both broke out laughing.

“I thought that inn looked familiar.” he was doubled over, tears in his eyes.

“I cannot believe you! You are such a whore!” I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard.

“So this is my fault?”

“It is! It is entirely your fault!” I took in a deep breath. The dreamlike scenario already flitting away into obscurity as rational thought tried to regain control over my wine addled brain. “Well, casanova, where are we supposed to sleep now that we can’t go back to our room?”

Peter seemed to be having the same problem and had to take a moment to catch his breath before speaking. “We’ll make camp out in the forest. Not anything we’re not used to right?”

“Right.” we left the alley, leaning on each other as we escaped the town and found a clearing in the forest. Peter changed our clothes back to normal which I was only a little disappointed in. I wouldn’t admit it but playing dress up for the night had been fun.

We pulled some branches together and made an impromptu shelter for one. The other would stay up and keep watch. “Get some rest.” Peter sat next to the fire he had conjured.

“No, I can take first watch.” I tried to answer but he just shook his head.

“You’ll nod off, especially now that you have about a dozen glasses of wine swimming through ya. Go to bed.”

“Fine. But wake me up in a couple hours for my watch.” I yawned as I laid down to sleep on the chilled forest floor. Strangest night ever.

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[your-dungeon-is-problematic]

Rakasta (AD&D) [Guest Article!]

[Mod’s Note: I must give especial thanks to @temporiludi for guest writing this article! So very thoughtful. :D] So! Cat-people. Everyone’s favorite race to cringe at when the local self-proclaimed “otaku” brings them to the game table. And while they insist their character looks almost entirely human, save for the “kawaii” additions of cat ears and matching tail, most iterations of a feline-humanoid race are closer in appearance to their quadrupedal real-life counterparts than the ever popular cat-girl of Japanese anime. Today we’ll be exploring a race of cat folk introduced in The Isle of Dread module for AD&D, the Rakasta (NOT Rakshasa). At a glance, they resemble the Khajiit of The Elder Scrolls series. Upon further inspection however…no, yeah. They’re Khajiit. But stronger.

General:

“Rakasta are a race of intelligent, nomadic, catlike humanoids. They are a proud, barbaric race of warriors who, while not prone to initiating hostilities, quickly respond when provoked.”

First off, it may be a fun drinking game (if you’re of age) to take a shot every time the monster manual uses the term “barbaric” to describe an entire race of people.

On second thought, that would probably cause severe liver damage by the time you get to the letter C. So (cat)scratch that.

With that out of the way, it’s good to see some positive adjectives attributed to the Rakasta. Intelligent makes sense, since their stat block clocks them as Very intelligent, and the fact that they won’t attack unless provoked plays nicely into their Neutral alignment. It makes sense that they would be quick to defend themselves if they’re attacked; they probably deal with tons of bandits and highwaymen on their travels hoping to get at their belongings.

“Rakasta walk upright, much like humans, with an agile, feline grace. They have feline heads and are covered with soft, tawny fur. Most fur coloration ranges from light tan to dark brown.”

Well, I would hope that they’re at least a little agile. But anyone who has owned a cat before knows that the “feline grace” only activates for about 10 minutes a day. After it’s used up, all that’s left are crash landings and getting stuck in places nobody thought they could even get to. Also, only various shades of brown? What about black cats? Siamese? Stripes? Spots? I find it hard to believe the generic tabby cat dominates the Rakasta world.

“Rakasta have catlike eyes, most of which are brilliant green. A Rakasta has a nonprehensile tail 4 to 6 feet long.”

Wait, catlike­? ­You’re telling me a race of anthropomorphic cat people have eyes that are only like a cat’s? How are they similar? How are they different? Does catlike mean they have thin vertical pupils that dilate into larger circles when they’re focused on something? Nowhere does it say they have any form of Darkvision, so that could be what separates them…but not giving them Darkvision seems rather counterproductive.

Nevertheless, a long nonprehensile tail makes perfect sense and I’d be miffed if they didn’t include them. Also, thank the Gods they’re not prehensile. I do not want monkey-cat-people. No thanks.

“Rakasta speak Common and their own language. Some of the more primitive Rakasta speak in a purring voice with many rolled r’s and hissed s’s.”

More…primitive. Great. If we’re considering that a synonym for “barbaric,” then take another shot.

Now, this implies that the standard Rakasta doesn’t speak with a purring voice, rolled r’s and hissed s’s. So, what, they sound like a run-of-the-mill adventurer with a vaguely British accent when speaking Common? I find that hard to believe, especially if their language (which is so conveniently not given a name) does involve rolled r’s and hissed s’s. Also, why the hell is that considered a primitive way of speaking? Dozens of real world languages roll their r’s in a variety of ways, and even English hisses some of its s’s in certain words (the double s at the end of success, for example). But, no. They’re a barbaric race. Their language is primitive. Ugh.

Combat:

“Rakasta are fierce fighters who neither ask for nor give any quarter. Eschewing normal weapons, Rakasta rely on their claws and bites. Since a Rakasta’s claws inflict only 1d2 points of damage, the creatures usually employ special metal war claws called kasas; worn on the paw like a glove, a kasa inflicts 1d4 points of damage on a successful attack.”

Alright, so if you’re dumb enough to attack a peaceful caravan of friendly cat people, you’re going to get ripped to shreds. I like that. They probably deal with expensive artifacts and high amounts of coin on the day-to-day, making them a prime target for the occasional (cat)burglar. And being a race of people who just want to be left alone? No wonder they show no mercy, and the fact that they ask for none in return shows just how badass these cats really are. However, 1d2 damage from a claw attack isn’t going to be dropping any highwaymen anytime soon. Their bark is probably worse than their bite, as it were.

It’s good that they included a way to augment their damage, though. The Kasas are a neat variation on the clawed-glove family of weaponry, and makes perfect sense for a culture that has favored their natural abilities over sword and shield. The jump from 1d2 to 1d4 isn’t much to celebrate, however, and really just adds an exotic curio for the standard adventuring party to loot once they’ve taken the caravan down.

“A Rakasta who strikes with both claws (or both kasas) in the same round can choose to rake with both rear claws. Rear claw attacks are rolled separately and cause 1d3 points of damage on a successful strike.”

Hold on. Rear claw attacks? Are you telling me these cat people can do a Kangaroo Jack-esque kick with their back legs in addition to their front claw attacks? Well that’s badass as all hell. These guys really are nimble fighters.

“Certain Rakasta ride saber-toothed tigers into battle.”

Sweet Jiminy Christmas. [Mod’s Note: The use of domesticated Ice Age fauna is a quick and easy way to immediately gain my interest, as well.]

“These tiger riders, known as the Hatra, are considered the bravest and strongest of the Rakasta warriors, and only they can hold the respect of the saber-toothed tigers. Hatra have 3+1 Hit Dice, a minimum of 15 hit points, and +1 bonus to damage rolls.”

Okay, okay. This is what I like to see. Large and powerful warriors able to tame savage wildcats and mounting them to ride into battle. The Hatra seem like the perfect defense against anyone stupid enough to threaten a pride of Rakasta. Not only do you have to take down the saber-toothed tigers that they ride, but also the warriors that were able to tame the damn things. Which is just another reason why you shouldn’t do that. Seriously, leave these guys alone, for your own sake.

“The Hatra use special saddles that enable them to leap as far as 20 feet from their mounts and still attack in the same round. The saddles allow the Hatra to fight unhindered while mounted, using both hands for attacks yet still maintaining control of their saber-toothed mounts.”

Here’s some of that feline agility we were talking about earlier. So not only can they leap 20 feet towards you, but they can also strike you with their claws as they’re doing so. They incur no penalties while fighting mounted, and they don’t even need to keep one hand on the reigns. With skills like this, no wonder their unarmed claws only do 1d2. Any more and it would be completely impossible for a low-level adventuring party to handle. Which they shouldn’t. Because fighting these guys is a bad idea­.

Habitat/Society:

“The nomadic Rakasta are organized into prides of 6d10 adult Rakasta plus an additional 25% of that number in noncombatant offspring. Each pride also has 1d12 saber-toothed tigers. When not on the move, each Rakasta pride sets up its own temporary settlements, composed of many colorful tens and pavilions.”

So that’s what, a maximum of 60 adults and 15 kittens, but only 12 of the adults would be Hatra?  I guess the Hatra are just so dang powerful and intimidating that they can get away with not having an entire platoon of tiger-riders guarding every pride.

Also, I am always wary whenever there’s a statistic for noncombatant offspring. While on the one hand, it’s much more realistic that families would be travelling together, but on the other hand, it creates the awkward situation of “What do we do with the children now that we’ve just murdered every adult they have ever known or called family?” If the party’s decent folk, they wouldn’t have attacked the damn pride in the first place. That leaves the unsavory party to either slaughter the children in cold blood, leave them to die in the wilderness, or any other horrible act they could think of. Again, not cool. [Mod’s Note: I mean, I guess the party could adopt them? But then again perhaps the people who just got done murdering their parents would not be the best parental replacements for these freshly orphaned kids...]

Moving on, it’s good to see that their lodgings aren’t small tents or pitiable sleeping bags, but actually representative of a thriving and artistic culture. It would almost be like a flea market to the uninitiated adventurer, with dozens of stalls to explore and hopefully find that one special thing that calls out to their coin purse.

“Rakasta possess excellent artisan skills. They typically own many bright rugs and silk tapestries of fine workmanship; artfully crafted bowls and drinking cups, and other items of value. These items are found in place of gems and jewelry in the treasure of a pride of Rakasta.”

So they don’t wear jewelry or gemstones? Interesting. I suppose they deal exclusively in coin and trade, then, which does make some sense. But no gemstones whatsoever? It’s bold choice. Would that imply their culture may not value gems of any kind, and decorating yourself with them is as silly as wearing a necklace made of pebbles you found outside your house?

“Each pride is led by a chief with at least 5+1 Hit Dice, a minimum of 24 hit points, and a +3 bonus to all damage rolls. The chief is always accompanied by six of the best Hatra and their saber-toothed mounts. The chief’s word is law, and is obeyed without question.”

So they have a chiefdom, which does make sense for the whole “pride of lions” sort of theme we’ve got going here. Typically, a chief is appointed via kinship, implying that a pride is either one large extended family, or made up of smaller families that decide upon whose elder holds the position every time a new chief is needed. But, looking at the chief’s statistics, if they’re so dang strong, why do they need 6 Hatra accompanying them? While an elite guard protecting the chief makes sense, that could potentially be half of all of the Hatra travelling with the pride.  It seems that a pride values the wellbeing of its leader over the wellbeing of people, which is…kind of sad. But hey, if they’re a good chief, they’ll order their guards to protect the rest of the pride during a crisis situation.

“Each pride has a Rakasta cleric of 4 Hit Dice who casts spells as a 4th-level priest. More powerful clerics are rumored to exist, as well as Rakasta with wizard abilities, perhaps as high as 7th level.”

Ohh, okay, so now we’re getting into magic. Up until now there’s been no mention of magic users in Rakasta culture, but it seems that a divine caster is present in every pride, no matter how small. Probably serves as the pride’s medical expert, as well as the link between the pride and their hereby still unnamed deities. The fact that more powerful casters are merely rumors implies that they either don’t exist, or the Rakasta don’t want outsiders knowing the upper limits of their magical capabilities. Perhaps they even use this as a tool of control? Keeping their magic users in the shadows so that they can call upon them when the chief needs something to get done…discreetly. Secret magical cat folk hitmen anyone?

“The Hatra, as the finest warriors in a pride, enjoy a special place in Rakasta society. Hatra are held in high honor, since this culture values combat prowess over all else. Rakasta also value their code of conduct, known as the Sri’raka. This code dictates a warrior’s behavior. Among the most noteworthy tenets:”

Good! So it’s been implied up until this point, but now we have confirmation that they’re a strength-based society. To that, it makes perfect sense that the chief is the most physically adept member of the pride, and perhaps hasn’t gained the title through age and wisdom, but instead earned the title themselves through proving their strength to the pride. It’s probably the case that every chief was at one point a Hatra themselves, as it has been stated that they are the strongest members of a pride, strong enough to tame and mount vicious saber-toothed tigers. Also, I’m excited to see what code these brutal tiger-riders hold themselves to.

Let’s take a look!

“No challenge to fight is ever refused.”

Hmm. So once a pride has been attacked, they have no choice but to engage in combat? That makes sense. But does it carry over into internal affairs? Like is someone wanted to challenge the chief for leadership of the pride. Of course, the chief’s word is law, but it’s likely they gained their position by issuing the a similar challenge to the chief before them? By their own rules, they would be forced to battle for the crown. Ultimately, it seems to be a matter of pride. Heh.

“Wounded are never left behind; carry them or kill them.”

Or kill them? Geeze, that’s harsh. I hope they get a say in whether or not they’re carried home or straight up killed. But I guess this is also so they can’t be taken prisoner, which can’t be a good thing in Rakasta society…

“Better to die in battle than in one’s sleep.”

Ah, here we go. That good ol’ “proper death” dealeo. A true warrior would want to go out in the most honorable way possible, which turns out to be struck down in combat. Come to think of it, that’s probably the way any challenge issued against the current chief ends. Either the challenger is killed, showing they weren’t the strongest and therefore didn’t deserve the chiefdom, or the old chief is killed, granting them an honorable death at the hand of the strongest member of the pride. Brutal.

“Give no mercy; never expect it.”

This was mentioned before, and from what we’ve read so far it’s pretty consistent. Go hard, or die trying.

“Retreat is permissible only in order to regroup. A new attack must be launched against the other force within two sunrises.”

Interesting. So this goes back to the 2nd tenet. During a tactical retreat, it may not be possible to gather up any injured, so it’s much easier to strike them down on the way out. At least they have two days to go back in for a second strike, but something tells me that if they weren’t successful the first time around, they’ll probably be just as unlucky on the second assault. [Mod’s Note: I wonder how many chieftains have used “We’re not retreating, we’re ‘advancing in a different direction’” as a face-saving semantic device...]

“Never surrender. Those who would exist as prisoners are not Rakasta.”

Oh wow, I was right! A Rakasta whose been captured is disowned from its entire race…I can’t imagine how bad that would be for the sorry sap who got left behind and wasn’t killed for some reason. They’d probably deal with a major identify crisis and off themselves at the first chance they get. The honorable thing for a dishonored warrior to do is to finish the job themselves. Quite the tragedy.

Well that was a bundle of joy to read about. I don’t imagine the other tenets are any more uplifting.

Ecology:

“The Rakasta make reliable trading partners when attention can be turned from battles. Rakasta are excellent hunters, and they keep the game herds from overpopulating.”

Well that’s not very much information. But I suppose it’s better than nothing…

Again, I’m digging the positive adjectives used to describe these guys. They’re reliable trading partners, which makes plenty of sense, but if they’re non-aggressors, why does their attention have to be turned away from battles in order to trade? I feel like this line is just another reminder that they’re “barbaric” and prone to violence, even if that sentiment was contradicted at the very beginning of their description. Being a society that values strength and merit doesn’t make an entire culture primitive or less-than-civilized. The Romans considered themselves to be the greatest culture to ever exist, and they were some of the most brutal people to ever walk the earth! But they still had literature, art, architecture, complex social ties and reverence for their Gods. I guarantee even the most hot-headed Rakasta is going to value economy over violence.

Also, they’re great hunters. Who would’ve guessed the cat people were good at hunting? But since they’ve eschewed traditional weaponry, do they hunt with their kasas? Do they stalk their prey on all fours and go for a full on sprint, only to strike at its neck and eviscerate its stomach with their back paws?

…that’s intense and makes them even more terrifying to deal with.

Again, who thinks it’s a good idea to fight these guys? At first I felt bad for them, being the under(cat)dog and getting the short end of the stick. But now I just feel sorry for any poor bloke who gets on their bad side.

Related Species:

So there are several subspecies of Rakasta, though they weren’t included in their original publication. Dragon magazine, Issue #247 instead gave a whole exposé about the Rakasta and their complicated culture and relationships among different prides. You can find it floating around the internet somewhere, which will go much more in depth than I’m going to go here. But for the sake of giving the whole picture, I’ll talk about a few noteworthy subspecies here:

Caracasta: Pariahs of Rakasta society, as they have adopted the usage of bows and arrows from the local human populations. As such, they’re looked down on by other Rakasta. They have large ears with black tufts of hair at the tips.

Cloud Pardasta: Arboreal Rakasta with innate magical abilities. They’re covered in leopard like spots and are especially proficient in leaping from treetop to treetop.

Simbasta: Essentially, lion Rakasta. They’re very proud and are the only Rakasta able of becoming Paladins. Also, insert The Lion King joke about Simba here. [Mod’s Note: HAHAHA I TOTALLY WANT LION-PALADIN-PEOPLE IN MY CAMPAIGN SETTING NOW. Even/especially if that would foster an endless amount of Thundercats references.]

Overall:

I feel like the Rakasta suffer from the same thing nearly every beast folk/monstrous humanoid race suffers from: they’re cast in a light that wants to simultaneously make them more like the other core races in terms of culture, but also keep them in the Monster Manual as something to kill and pillage the corpses of. But they’re not as bad as they could’ve been. Their culture is really interesting, albeit at some points contradictory, but I feel like that could be played up. They’re kind enough folk if you want to trade or make friends, but the moment you turn on them they strike you down hard. A culture that values strength is not inherently barbaric, and I wish that could be emphasized by exploring their religion or the significance behind the tapestries that they create. On the plus side, there was no gendered language used when talking about the Hatra or the chief, so that makes me believe that it is a very egalitarian society, which is good! Show me some badass tiger-riding female warriors that, on their down time, weave beautiful blankets and adorn their saddles with culturally significant beadwork.  You can do better in your setting. Give the Rakasta the attention and care that they deserve.

…you know, I’m glad that at no point was I given the opportunity to make a single skooma joke. Good job, AD&D.