#bipedal canids

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You said i could drop AUs so here's one that i haven't even posted on my blog yet--

Maybe the most Angst AU i've come up with. The rest of the Bats still exist in this AU but this is centric on Bruce and Dick and I'm talking about stuff that happens before even Jason comes in. So you know that trend where the Bat's are cryptids. 

Yeah so- Kind of combining some of my other AUs and others and adding more stuff for funsies. In this AU, a city, or a place, or just… an area can sometimes develop a consciousness, or a spirit. No one knows how. They just do.

Sometimes they 'claim' a person, as their own, their child, theirs.

To show this, at some point, a faint birthmark-looking thing will appear on the person's body, usually their hand or wrist, in the shape of the area's symbol.

At some point, often during an extreme moment, the 'faintling' mark, as it is called, will suddenly darken, turn dark, or just darker depending on how much they are Taken, it will feel like burning, for some it hurts, but mostly it just feels intense.

This is a Claiming, a Marking. The city/town/area has Claimed the person, Marked them as his/her own.

One of two things are most probable to happen:

(1) the person is half-Marked, partially Claimed. Their ears become pointed, their eyes predatory, teeth and nails sharp, and they gain very small and subtle abilities. Basically they become feral humans. Half-cryptids. They can shift out of these when they want to.  (2) They are fully Marked, fully Taken, Shifted, Changed, Chosen, Marked and Claimed. They fully Change and become a cryptid. They get these changes to their body. Most stay humanoid, but others go full on inhumanity at first glance. Some become Werewolf-like, canid looking but able to go between bipedal and quadrupedal.  They have subtle or full abilities. Basically they get fully turned into cryptids. That's what they are, the only other name for them is the Marked. The Claimed, the Taken, the Chosen, the Changed, the Shifted. Their Marks are more imprinted, darker than even the half-Claimed. Luckily, fully Marked can shift back to human form when they want to. 

So Bruce is Changed the moment his parents die. His wrist, it starts to hurt, but not like his whole wrist, just where the faintling is, each line and curve hurts and where the faintling isn't it feels fine. It hurts and it feels intense, and as he cries over his parent's bodies, it feels like it's burning and as he clutches his wrist, it seems to burn its way onto his skin. there, dark, to never be gone, is the Mark of Gotham. He hears the wind whispering, and it sounds like someone saying something. Then the Mark feels warm. She is comforting him. She mourns the loss of two of her half-Marked, Thomas and Martha, even as she Marks Bruce. She has Claimed him. He is one of Her's now. Gotham has Marked him as one of Her children. But it doesn't stop there.  His ears are becoming pointed and suddenly gain better hearing, and his teeth suddenly change, he can feel them sharpening and his mouth adjusts to them. His eyesight changes and his eyes themselves become more like a cat's eyes or a wolf's eyes. His hands change a little and his nails become claws.  His hair is thicker, more furlike, and he feels changes here and there, fur on his arms and back and chest, everywhere, and suddenly his back feels strange and suddenly wings, fully functional bat wings burst out behind him and he stumbles from the shock.  His wings are batlike but a feather or two is there somewhere on him, usually in his hair.  But as Bruce hears sirens, probably police alerted by the gunshots, he realizes what is in front of him- Maybe he'll get his inheritance and hopefully stay with Alfred, but CPS and foster care and everything is still a large threat and that paired with….. whatever just happened to him, he can't stay.   So he runs. He disappears, instinctively stepping into the shadows and letting them wrap around him, embrace him, and he lets Gotham's Wind lead him through the city.  After this, I haven't fully decided what happens to Alfred, but Alfred has to leave but kind of knows Bruce is alive (BECAUSE IT'S ALFRED) and Bruce takes over the abandoned mansion.  All the public knows is that the Waynes were found murdered in Crime Alley and their little seven-year-old was nowhere to be found. After three years of fruitless search, they give up and decide he's dead as his parents are.  Bruce grows up running around as a feral little cryptid. Once Bruce is 16, he becomes Batman. He can echolocate, speak a feral tongue of clicks, whistles, screeches, chirps, growls, snarls, snaps, hisses, purrs, hoots, keens, grunts, rumbles, squeaks, chatters, yaps, yips, chuffs, croons, snaps, coos, howls, and other noises. It's his first language now and English is harder to speak unless he's in human form. His cape often disappears with the wings and the wings are even tougher and everything-proof than the cape. His wings start out gray but darken to pitch black as he matures. They get stronger as he gets older. All his abilities do.  He can melt into shadows and foliage and anything faster and better than most people can. He seems to fade into the dark, appear and disappear from thin air, make no noise as he steps. He's huge, but silent as an owl in flight.  He belongs to the shadows. They wrap around him even outside of Gotham, embrace him, cling to him, for him shadows hide him like mist, is like mist. When he falls, the shadows catch him.

Besides that, Bruce has the stealth and strength factor, his memory is really good, he notes every detail, even the small ones, and he sometimes has this sixth sense of things. He has this thing where he will pull information out of the literal aether. He doesn't remember when he learned it or how. He just knows it. Years later, Gotham randomly urges Bruce to sneak into the circus to watch. He doesn't know why. Yet.  The Graysons fall. Bruce knows what that seven-year-old is feeling because he feels it himself. And he senses it then. The boy has Gotham's Claim on him, not fully Marked yet, still a faintling, but still.  Bruce watches from the shadows as CPS does its shit.  Dick runs away the first chance he gets. Bruce finds him curled up in an abandoned building and coaxes the cub out of hiding. He doesn't know what to exactly do, but he can't leave Dick alone out here, and he can't turn him in. That'd be hypocritical for one thing, and unsafe since the boy is half-Marked. And he knows how Dick feels. And maybe his sixth sense is talking to him again.  Bruce takes him back to the broken-down abandoned Manor.  Bruce explains to the little guy about Gotham and all. Explains that he may be Claimed. Everything. Dick even goes with him on patrol and hides and watches. Bruce makes him hide and cover his eyes and ears for the shitty stuff though. Bruce grabs food from the trash or such, but he gives more of it to Dick and pretends he's not hungry. Dick's ears are already pointed, teeth already sharp, nails already claws. 

Bruce tells Dick that he has a choice. He can be half-Claimed, fully Marked, or fully reject Gotham's Hold on him.  Dick? Dick thinks it over.  And chooses to be fully Marked.  Bruce warns him that there are dangers, that he may not be able to protect him, that there are cryptid hunters, that this isn't safe, because even though Bruce has already become attached to the little guy, he doesn't want the pup in danger. He wants what's best for Dick. He is doubting his own ability to care for Dick too, because he's 21 and he has no idea what he's doing with this 7 year old.  Dick is adamant.  Bruce hesitates, but finally he holds the boy's shoulders and looks up at the darkening sky. "He chose, and I think you knew what he would choose." He says to Gotham. She whispers back in the Wind.  Bruce sighs. "Please, never forgive me." He tells Dick. He grips the boy's shoulders and drops his forehead to the cub's, triggering the Change.  Gotham's Wind roars and swirls around both of them.  Dick is Marked. He grows a fur-feather-like tail like Bruce's. His ears are becoming pointed and suddenly gain better hearing, and his teeth suddenly change, he can feel them sharpening and his mouth adjusts to them. His eyesight changes and his eyes themselves become more like a cat's eyes, a bird's eyes, or a wolf's eyes. His hands change a little and his nails become claws.  His hair is thicker, more furlike, and he feels changes here and there, fur or feathers on his arms and back and chest, everywhere, and suddenly his back feels strange and suddenly wings, fully functional feathered bird wings burst out behind him. They are brown, yellow, red and green here and there. A little bit of blue.  His skin is pale, now, pale as Bruce's.  Bruce takes one look at the cub, his cub, and scoops him up and flies back to the Manor and the Cave.   Robin joins Batman a few months later. He has the same abilities as his dad, but he's also insanely flexible and can contort his body in ways no child can. Criminals learn fast that if you lay a finger on Robin, then the Bat is even more murderous. 

Robin grows. His feathers darken and get tougher. The yellow, red, and green start to go and more black and blue. 

Did I mention the cryptid hunters?

Batman and Robin often have to hide from the sadistic group of cryptid hunters, and have to have several dens all across the city just in case. Bruce gets caught a few times protecting Dick. Dick gets caught a few times, but he always escapes before they can hurt as bad as they hurt Bruce. 

One day when Dick is 15, more of them than normal come. Bruce hides Dick and goes to try and ward them off. He knows it's either they take Dick or they take him, and he won't let them touch his son. 

Dick can't see much of it, Bruce forced him to hide and stuck a wooden board over the cranny to hide him. He only sees glimpses. Hears roars and growls and snarls. 

Bruce doesn't come back. 

Dick waits for hours, but deep down, he knows what the sounds he heard meant. Either they killed his dad or captured him. Dick still waits, tears coming, until finally he fights and claws and scratches and panics his way out of the place under the floorboards. 

There's not enough blood on the floor to be death. He hopes. 

He somehow finds his way to Jim Gordon's. In this AU Jim is half-Marked and Babs is fully-Marked. Jim is still an ally and fully aware of Babs' being Oracle. Babs is more of a cousin to Dick in this. 

Jim already knows that something is wrong when a crying, keening cub crawls into his apartment through the window at 2AM without his dad, crying to uncle Jim that they took him. 

Jim takes care of Dick the best he can while Dick somehow keeps the Manor hideout and the Batcave intact.

In the eyes of the Gotham civilians? Batman is missing and Robin is suddenly more murderous. And just as deadly as his father. 

The red, yellow, and green on his feathers completely fade and darken to black, and the blue lines the edges of his wings. 

Robin changes. And becomes Nightwing. 

He will protect Gotham as She protected him and his dad, protect Gotham as his father protected Her lands. He will find those hunters and if they killed Bruce he will have vengeance. If they took him prisoner he will destroy that prison until his father is free. But mostly he does his shit in Gotham and Bludhaven.

Through all of this, the JL is completely unaware of the two Bats. They have no information on them. None. Nada. Nothing. They haven't even heard of them. Nothing. Bruce and Dick evaded them that well. 

But eventually (four years after Bruce is captured)  the YJ coincidentally have a mission in Blud and they run into Nightwing who is in suit and mask but human form. (i think i forgot to mention, Bruce and Dick can go human form if they want lol)

He gets unwillingly pulled into joining. 

He acts… different than they hoped he would. He's a bit antisocial. He doesn't socialize or tell them about himself. Doesn't even take his domino off. He clicks and/or whistles to himself sometimes. He constantly defies orders and even goes to challenge the adults or whoever is in charge. 

He's creepy. Knows things without explanation. Fades into the shadows like mist. Stealthy as a cat. He is scary good at scaring criminals. His ears are pointed and his teeth are sharp. 

He's brilliant in the field. Like, Sherlock good. Even with plans and shit. He still acts antisocial and often is a wild defiant card. Goes against orders and often doesn't listen to Aqualad ((IDK i saw YJ clips with Aq as lead?)) 

He's infuriating. 

Once Wally walked into the kitchen to get some water and Nightwing was just there eating cereal. Sometimes after missions he wanders off and appears days later and doesn't tell anyone what he was up to. He has been caught sneaking back in at dawn. He often wanders the Tower at night and resists any friendly advances. 

Dick's POV? He doesn't trust these people. Nowadays he doesn't trust anyone but the bats and birds (literally, the animal ones. He can speak their tongue, like Bruce) and animals he's friends with, plus Uncle Jim and Babs and maybe any other Marked he meets. 

He's scared. Terrified, even.

If these people learn what he is, he has no idea what they'll do, but people took Dad, hurt him, took Dad-

He's scared. And distrustful. And terrified.

And deep down, his 19-year-old ass wants his Dad. 

He keeps getting nightmares. Of when his bio parents died, when Bruce was taken, of the times he himself was caught and hurt by those hunters, of his parents falling, of Bruce falling instead, of when Bruce was taken-

He can't sleep. Doesn't sleep much, only after days at a time. He hides it well.

But Dick hasn't ever felt safe since they took Bruce. He can't feel safe.

Dick knows these people are -quote-unquote- 'freaks' like him, that weird stuff is part of the deal-

-But sometimes, his hands just can't stop shaking. 

Not sure what would happen next, but ah, dw Bruce is definitely alive and perfectly sane. I'm not heartless as to kill him.

yeah, this is a lot to take in, i read this last night and then somehow managed to dream of it.

Means it's good!! delicious even.

And I'm also glad you won't kill of Bruce, but I'm also super curious to know what would happen next and how this AU works in general. PLEASE I'M SO CURIOUS AND EXCITED I NEED MORE🙏😓💔

feel free to DM me, I'm genuinely curious about this AU and I'd be happy to read more!

[the-real-couchrat]

I’ve heard a lot of people questioning why Loona had a demonic form, and if all hellhounds do.

I assumed that the wolf form (the quadrupedal form anyway) is the natural hellhound form. As the society in Hell developed and was influenced by the Sinner population, Hellhounds started to take on more humanoid forms in everyday life. The usual bipedal canid form is likely an in-between shift that became the norm.

But idk, that’s just my take on it.

[barkandbite-kennel]

Hey party people! The name's Damien, and this is my nursery/rescue's rotomblr blog!

I specialize in canine and canid/caniform pokemon, basically anything you can look at and go "that's a puppy!". Their loving personalities and playfulness are a major appeal, as well as their quality as both pet, battle and working 'mon! Breeding started off as a bit of a hobby, but i finally have my own ranch and the means to be a professional breeder!

Here at Bark & Bite we aim to breed well-tempered, healthy pokémon who can work well both as pets and battling 'mon! Follow to see adoptable pups and rescues, and to see updates on my team's shenanigans!

Meet the team!

Asha - ♀houndoom, lvl64

Nova - ♀espeon, lvl27

Holly -♀ninetails, lvl30

Rouge - ♀arcanine, lvl29

Pepper - ♀zoroark, lvl36

Blu - ♂lucario, lvl22

descriptions below!

Asha was my first pokemon, as you can probably tell from her insane levelling compared to the rest of my team. She's as loyal as can be and very calm for a houndoom! Never once burnt me in all our years together. Produces some very lovely puppies as well. Rarely bred though due to the dangerous nature of houndoom and the amount of uneducated trainers who want one.

Holly has her sassy moments, but loves affection and is a wonderful mother. Her fur is perfectly long and fluffy and she loves to have it brushed. Despite the sensitivity of a ninetails' tails, she really enjoys having them pet and gently combed. Her litters tend to be larger than my others and she quite enjoys tending to her eggs and hatchlings, but thankfully isn't too sad to see them go after weaning.

Rouge is a bit of a later addition to the group than the other two but a beloved one nonetheless, a valiant fighter and wonderfully playful pup. She's pretty freshly evolved, still getting used to her new body, but seems pretty happy with it! She's a bit stubborn about having her mane and tail brushed but that's to be expected freshly after evolution. it's a work in progress. Yet to be bred but with her temperament i know she'll make some wonderful pups for trainer and working 'mon.

Nova is a fairly new addition, aaand an accidental evolution. She was an eevee for the longest time but one day while out for a walk she just. Turned green like that. An espeon is a bit less useful for breeding than a plain old eevee but i love her in any form regardless! Really my own fault for not giving her an everstone, but she just hadn't seemed interested in evolving up until that point. A silly girl with a calm and friendly disposition, bred twice before evolution and yet to be bred since! Her pups make for lovely pets and great companions for younger trainers. I bought her from another breeder who specializes in eevee and shiny breeding.

Same goes for Pepper, bought from a dark-type breeder! One of the only shinies that breeder's ever produced and i got first dibs from the litter. Pricey, beautiful, and a very playful pup! She loves to play pranks like most zoroark, using her illusions for fun, but at the end of the day when she winds down she is one snuggly fox. Yet to be bred but i know her pups are bound to inherit her friendly personality.

Blu is a very new member of the team, and a 'mon i don't really plan to breed. Incredibly friendly and cuddly, any pups he sires are likely to make great pets, but i don't really breed riolu unless working with other breeders due to my lack of female lucario or other bipedal 'mon (aside from Pepper). Hybridizing between purely bipedal and purely quadrupedal 'mon isn't recommended as is has higher risk of causing defects and health issues so i'm a bit out of luck with him.

[dragimalsdaydreams]

Dragon Booster Notes: Cladistic Taxonomy

I had to lay out a rough estimate of evolutionary relationships or I'd go insane <3

"narrator" voice starts under the cut:

Dracalia

[image ID: a simple cladistic diagram of the speculative Dracalia clade. the first division from Dracalia leads to, "remains sprawling and ectothermic" traits, resulting in Hydrags (depicted as low-bodied and lizard-like). the other path leads to, "endothermic and erect limb structure" traits, resulting in the rest of the tree. this path then splits into "bipedalism" vs. "remains quadrupedal" traits. bipedalism results in two different lineages: Raptors (depicted much like a prehistoric raptor) and crow-drags (depicted much like a crow). quadrupedalism results in Bulls (depicted as bulky and bull-like), and another path which then splits into Canids (depicted as lean and gangly) and Felids (depicted with a lithe and curving stature). end ID]

Dracalia is the most populous and successful clade in the modern day, due in part to the disastrous Dragon-Human War several centuries previous. few clades survived the subsequent environmental fallout and extinction event of that terrible war, but Dracalia and humans are among the few that clawed our way to survival. humans due to our adaptability and ingenuity, and drakes* due to their high aptitude for Draconium manipulation and (typically) extreme temperature regulation.

(*note that "drake" is the proper name for any member of the clade Dracalia, whereas "dragon" is the layman term for the few clades of race-worthy drakes.)

Draconium manipulation is a core trait of Dracalia, though it has naturally waned in certain sub-clades. other traits include audial fins, heat pits, and complex respiratory systems with associated Mufflers. drake respiratory systems are highly efficient, allowing for constant gas exchange and internal heat regulation, resulting in high adaptability to a wide range of environmental temperatures and high-energy activities.

most researchers believe that the most recent common ancestor of Dracalia likely resembled a modern Hydrag, with a sprawling leg posture, low body, and ectothermic physiology. the rest of Dracalia split off from Hydrags rather early on, developing erect leg posture and an endothermic physiology. this endothermic trait further developed into even more extreme control of internal body heat-- namely, increased sensitivity of heat pits and specialization of the respiratory system.

this sub-clade further split into two sub-clades-- bipedal drakes and quadrupedal drakes. the bipeds took advantage of their already complex, efficient respiratory systems, allowing bipeds to develop powered flight using webbed wings. Raptors are themselves descended from a flighted ancestor, but lost their ability to fly over time, instead specializing in ground stability and speed. their arms still have some vestigial webbing, and their bodies are still short and compact, though they cannot do much more than glide with the help of flight gear. crow-drags, on the other hand, are a fully-flighted clade, having taken over the skies from the extinct avians of the past, flourishing in the absence of other flighted competition.

the rest of the quadrupeds split into two core paths of specialization: bulk and agility. Bulls have made a living being some of the biggest, toughest creatures around, hard to injure and even harder to kill. few creatures seek to challenge such an opponent. Felids and Canids, on the other hand, aim for speed and agility, outrunning pursuers and prey alike. Felids have taken their agility slightly further than Canids, specializing in flexibility over stability.

((as for other creatures we see in the show:

Muhorta: we never see the full body, so I have no fucking clue. they could be some land-based cephalopod with a false dragon face for all I know... wait that sounds really cool actually..

newts: I think they're just regular newts. like, real-ass animal newts, but they evolved some semi-bipedalism in the show. or maybe geckos instead, so the poor lil' guys don't desiccate. I just think it would be funny.))

[boneheads-pet-idiot]

Pilum Murialis Anatomical Study

Part 1

General Observations and Physical Measurements

Head and Neck:

Skull appears semi canid, mesocephalic. Temporal and zygomatic bone fused. Eye sockets enclosed on distal edge by temporal bone. Coronoid process of mandible not visible due to zygomatic arch fusion into temporal region of skull. Nuchal crest severely diminished compared to other canine species. Skull is 33.02 cm (13 inches) in length measured from nuchal crest to incisive bone. Horns symmetrical, each making one 360° turn approx halfway down the total length. Horn length 38cm (15 in). Deeply ridged. Sensitive to tactile stimulation.

Teeth arranged as follows:

Upper jaw contains six incisors, two canines, eight premolars, four molars.

Lower jaw contains six incisors, two canines, eight premolars, six molars.

Total 42 Teeth

Skin:

Body skin coloration is dark purple, scaled along forearms as well as chest and groin. Scales round and somewhat iridescent. Nails and cuticles black. No body hair observed.

Facial skin is thin and translucent, perceptible only by touch.

Vitals:

Subject claims to lack internal bodily organs and processes. Findings indicate this assessment to be true.

Heart rate- Not detected

Respirations- Not detected

Blood pressure- Not detected

Abdominal palpation- abdominal organs (if present) non palpable

Pupil dilation- Not applicable, subject lacks pupils

Body:

Subject appears humanoid in shape, bipedal, plantigrade. Presents with male humanoid secondary sex characteristics. Nipples not present. Highly developed upper body musculature. Moderate amount of fat storage seems primarily restricted to abdomen.

Measurements:

Excluding horns, subject stands at 200cm (6 ft 7 in) in height.

Weight unknown due to lack of equipment.

Pilum Murialis presents a unique challenge in that phylogenic categorization is near impossible due to presence of traits demonstrated in multiple animal phyla.

Subject is likely a chimera of complex and intricate make, though more research is needed to validate this hypothesis.

[stay-prideful]

Hellluva Boss X Reader (I1)

Introduction Part 1: Welcome to Hell, and Your New Body

THIS IS THE FIRST INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. THIS WILL BE THE SAME SINNER FOR ALL FUTURE CHAPTERS. CONSIDER ANY OTHER "X READER" CHAPTERS I WRITE TO BRANCH FROM THESE INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS.

Fuck. Of course you would end up in Hell. You should've known that Heaven would be far too strict when it came to letting people in; unless you repented for every little FUCKING thing that you had done up to the moment you died, you would be sent here. Fuck everyone who had the misfortune of being unable to confess their sins or ask for forgiveness before they had a terrible accident. And of course, fuck you in particular if you just didn't happen to believe in the right religion. GODS DAMMIT.

From an outsider's perspective, you had probably died in one of the coolest ways that somebody could die: fighting off a pack of wolves trying to save someone. But from your point of view, it was one of the stupidest.

You had been on a camping trip somewhere in the Frozen North with your parents and little sister, intending to ski for a majority of your time up there. You had insisted that your family should stay at a lodge, but your parents didn't want to pass up the chance to live out the camping experience fantasy. However, due to your parent's lack of knowledge of the area, multiple mistakes compounded into a single disaster that had been the cause of your death. They had gotten lost several times, there were multiple failed attempts at starting a fire (thankfully you had known how to tell which branches would be too wet to use in the snow), and the final nail in the coffin was that they hadn't thought to store or dispose of their leftover food somewhere safely.

"...And then the wolves came," you thought to yourself as you sat up and began walking the streets of Hell. That had to be where you were; Hell. No way you would have just teleported from the frozen fucking wilderness to a city of constant screams, where monsters walked just out of view, the sky was blood red, and had a FUCKING PENTAGRAM! You made sure to avoid going anywhere near the monsters, even if they appeared to walk bipedally and wear clothes. No fucking way you were going to get caught by a demon and tortured.

Your parents had been able to call rangers for help as they realized the wolves were after our food. You had been able to get your little sister out of your tent, and get her to your parents, but by then you had been completely surrounded by the wolves. However cool you thought wolves had been before then, that meant nothing to you now. Especially after how painful they made your death. If only we had stayed in a lodge...

Just then you were able to catch a glimpse of your own reflection in some broken windows of some abandoned building you were walking past. You stopped, not recognizing yourself.

You had the head of a wolf.

You screamed at your own reflection and jumped back, mistakenly worried that somehow the wolves that you had fought back on Earth had found you, here to kill you for good. When you looked around, you were relieved to see that no such animals were around. Then you groaned at what that must've meant. As you approached the broken glass yet again, you were disgusted to see that the wolf face that you had seen was your own. Great. Fucking great. Just when you had acquired a new hatred towards wolves.

As you examined your form more closely, it was revealed to you that you were more than just an ugly face. You had stark white fur, with grey patterns running up your forehead and canid ears. Your eyes were a commanding pale blue, almost glowing. Your neck and collarbone were covered with fur, disappearing beneath the familiar black winter coat that you had worn when you died. However, it would seem that it was undamaged, despite you distinctly remembering having your limbs being torn from your body. You looked down at your hands, relieved to see that they were still functional and not some fucking paws. The backs of your hands held a similar grey patten as the fur on your forehead, and your white fur-covered fingers seemed to shoot out from this, giving the illusion of grey fingerless gloves. Your fingers ended in sharp black claws where your fingernails should've been. You slowly turned your hands around, fearful of what the other side would look like.

You had FUCKING BEANS!

Thank the gods they didn't completely cover the underside of your fingers; you retained the flexibility in them. In fact, your fingers felt almost more flexible. You closed your hands into fists, feeling an amount of strength that was alien to you, as you flexed your arms underneath your jacket, causing it to strain against your new muscle.

"Damn." You thought. "At least being a furry comes with some upsides. Wait. AM I A FUCKING FURRY!?" You screamed internally. "No, I'm not a furry," you told (lied to) yourself. That was what you called deranged people who wanted to fuck animals and dress like them. Just because you suddenly looked like all of the pictures of people's furry personas didn't make you a furry. Did it? Fuck.

Your mind still racing with questions about your furry status, you looked past your hands and saw that the lower half of your body was almost unrecognizable. Your legs bent at unfamiliar angles, pants straining against the new form. Your feet were still in the winter boots you had worn when you were alive. You were too scared to take them off and see what your feet looked like.

"Yup," you thought to yourself again, "This is Hell."

XXX

As you spent more time in Hell, you discovered it was unlike what you had been taught to fear in life. This was, not, in fact, a flaming pit where demons tortured sinners. This was just a flaming pit with sinners that tortured each other, through the inevitable continuation of consciousness and societal expectations. So basically, just Earth again.

You discovered though, that Hell was even more classist than Earth; there was a whole fucking hierarchy. Demon Royalty was at the top, followed by sinners forever stuck in the Pride Ring, followed by most Hellborn, then imps, and then finally hellhounds. Sinners ended up taking an appearance, unwillingly, related to the manner in which they died. And holy (unholy?) crap did you pull the shortest fucking straw that you had died to wolves; you looked like a hellhound, and were treated as such. Sinners and Hellborn alike treated you like refuse; you were barely able to convince the few "people" you actually took the time to talk to that you were, in fact, a sinner, and not a member of the species at the bottom of the FUCKING totem pole. Not that it mattered. Most people didn't want to listen to some excuse a hellhound tried to give them to not treat them like shit.

Hellhounds were treated like pets, security, rabid animals, slaves. You were spat at, kicked, petted without consent, scratched, teased, FUCKING MUZZLED at one point. You were expected to have an owner. If you didn't, people would treat you worse, given that you had nobody to report them to. Hell, if you hadn't been older than 20, you might've been kept in a fucking pound.

Luckily, this worked in your favor, if only to give you a fraction of convenience. Because almost everyone thought you were a hellhound, you had been able to find multiple jobs that didn't ask you to sell your soul to an Overlord. At least, not one that didn't take it by the hour regardless. That was another position on the totem pole; Overlords. Overlords were able to amass power by making deals for souls. Honestly, the idea intrigued you enough that you were willing to try and become one yourself over time. Not like you didn't have plenty of that in eternity. You just had to come up with a pitch that would convince sinners to actually give up their soul to you.

These kinds of ideas swam in your mind as you tried to get through your shift at the off brand "BarkBucks." Christ on a stick was that name condescending. You had oodles of time to come up with pitches as you talked to the patrons, much to the chagrin of your boss at this particular franchise. You were always able to play it off as a curiosity of Overlords, rather than actually trying to get people to sell their soul to you.

"What would a fucking hellhound know about having a soul?"

The way they said "hellhound" made you want to leap over the counter and strangle them.

"That's rich! I might take that idea for myself. Not that you could stop me, MUTT."

(You were actually lucky enough to see that sinner try it, and promptly get his head caved in.)

"An interesting thought. I might've given it more credit had it not come from a slobbering dog."

That one in particular stung the most. You couldn't refute it because you were still pretending to be a hellhound to your boss.

"Where's my fucking coffee?"

Most conversations went like that.

Maybe one day you'd be able to acquire enough power to rise above your station, and finally be treated with the respect you deserve. Maybe you'd find a better job, where you didn't have to hide the fact that you were a sinner, or maybe you could seduce Demon Royalty, and live a luxurious lifestyle. Who knows? It could happen. At least then you wouldn't be treated like a fucking hellhound. You fucking furry.

XXX

It happened as you were serving a small imp customer at the counter. Your shoulders were slumped, and you looked at him with a bored expression as you listened to his incessant prattling.

"I'll have the Neapolitan cappuccino, More Cappa than Chino. Make sure it's got no more than 4oz of milk, The beans won't have the right texture otherwise. And make sure you spell my name correctly on the cup. You always put Voxxie or Roxy. I hate that. if you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti Traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blonde shots, Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then add the coffee after."

Good fucking Gods you hated this guy.

As the little imp droned on and on, you overheard two sinner patrons that frequented the place talking about this business that went up to the human world. Apparently, they charged you for killing anyone you wanted, granted they were still alive. One of the sinners was basically a ball of sweaty fat and muscle, with large, distended veins pulsing from every part of his body, and the other looked like he had been hastily assembled from broken dresser drawers. You had easily guessed how they had died long ago.

Their conversation intrigued you, because you had never heard of demons having access to Earth before. You perked up, ignoring the imp speaking as you handed him his coffee. It was probably wrong, but you didn't care. Maybe there'd be some sinner clients at this business, who were looking for immediate revenge after their death, and hadn't yet sold their soul. You looked around your workspace, wary if your boss could see you right now. You snuck two pastries as you came out from behind the counter, approaching the sinners having this conversation.

"Hey guys, boss wanted to give you these, on the house. You've been some pretty loyal customers, and he wanted to thank you for your patronage." You lied, mentally gritting your teeth, but still wearing a polite smile. These two knew you were a sinner, and often abused you like a hellhound despite this, for better or for worse. You were grateful that they had inadvertently kept your secret, even if they didn't know they were doing it. But you still fucking hated their guts.

"Aww, thanks puppy. Want a treat?" the veiny one mocked, as if he was speaking to a baby. You were sure he'd actually kill a baby if he ever met one. The drawer one piped up: "Yeah, you, uh...fuck. I can't come up with anything." Raising his wooden splinter hands in a shrug to his partner. In response, the sweaty ball rolled what you could only assume were his eyes. "Whatever, hellhound." He knew you hated that, and often defaulted to this insult when he couldn't come up with anything better. You actually gritted your teeth this time.

"Hey, I couldn't help but overhear you talking about some kind of business, where they kill still-living people?" You asked, smiling through your teeth, trying to give an air of being conversational. Your cold eyes gave away that you were filled with hatred though. The two noticed and scoffed, but luckily, they humored you.

"Yeah: I.M.P., you give 'em a name, and they kill your bitch." The broken drawer one said. "I had 'em kill my moving guy. You know, the one that let my furniture fall down some stairs onto me when I was still alive. Fucking prick killed me."

"Hey, FUCK YOU!" a disembodied voice called out from across the café. He was obviously the moving guy in question. All three of you ignored him.

"A very niche business." The veiny one said, continuing the conversation from his partner. "Not many sinners actually have someone that killed them. I should know, I died alone!" He laughed, but almost immediately broke down crying. You almost puked at the sight, silently gagging as you watching his fatty and fleshy body heave and pulse. Obviously, he had died of a heart attack.

"Y/N!!"

Your boss couldn't handle it anymore. He had overheard all of this, and had talked to one of your coworkers, who had obviously just ratted you out about the pastries. You flipped your coworker the bird, out of your boss's view, who himself was rapidly approaching. You could almost see the fumes coming from his ear fins.

He was Hellborn, hailing from the Envy Ring. He was short and chubby, having the appearance of a pufferfish. You towered over him, easily two or three heads taller than him.

"Giving a customer the wrong order, stealing, abandoning your position to fraternize with your friends!?" He shouted, not caring that everyone in the café immediately turned their head towards your little group.

"They're not-" You were cut off as your boss continued.

"Fucking hellhound! Can't follow directions for a single day! If I was your owner, I'd fucking put you down!" He said, shaking his finger aggressively up at you, furious. Your ears folded down as you heard that. Not out of fear, but out of anger, and the sudden bloodlust that ran through your veins. A loud, audible growl escaped you as you revealed your teeth from behind your black lips.

Everyone in the café who was listening gasped. Not at his statement of having you killed, but at the sound of your growl. It was unheard of for a hellhound to retaliate like that in a professional setting; there was too much a hellhound could lose socially. The two sinners you were just talking to inched themselves away, to the side of their seats furthest away from you. Your boss paused, second-guessing himself as he nearly pissed himself, slowly and unconsciously expanding, in self-defense as a pufferfish does. He noticed the general reaction of the patrons, then quickly forced himself smaller as he struggled to regain his composure, and take control of the situation. He raised his finger again. That stupid fucking finger.

"Y/N, YOU'RE FIRE—" this time, he was the one cut off as you reared back and kicked him across the room in a fury, the hard and rough bottoms of your winter boots from your Deathday adding to the impact. He blew up fully this time, becoming lighter as he filled with air and bounced off several tables, poking holes in paper cups with the spines that stuck out of him.

Almost immediately screams came from the patrons, and you heard several people dial Hell's equivalent of animal control. SHIT. As people scrambled to get out of their chairs and run towards the exits, fearing you like some kind of uncontrollable monster, you sprinted towards the entrance; pushing past customers as you fled. You didn't have to push many; they eagerly jumped back as they tried to get away from you.

When you finally crashed through the doors of the entrance, you looked back to see multiple hellhound customers and coworkers look back at you with various shades of disgust, shame, and disdain. You obviously had just made their lives at this café a whole lot harder. FUCK. You weren't even really one of them, but you still felt horrible.

You sprinted down the street, away from the chaos that you had just caused. You hated being treated like this. Eternal torture was worse when even other sinners treated you like shit, and Hell's hierarchy was out to get you. You had to get out of Hell.

There was only one place on your mind as you ran: I.M.P.

Where you can read:

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[saberswordseabass]

Hu'Yisths Haven

A minor transportation ship floated above the atmosphere of a large Marsh planet. Inside the ship, a male Taurian quickly speeds up to try and keep up with the long strides of the human he was walking beside.

"Are you sure this is the proper planet that was supposed to be the transfer point for your new guardian?" The male asks with a worried look as the human lets out a heavy, drawn-out sigh. He stops dead in his walk, which causes the male to trip before catching himself as he tries to do the same.

"For the last time, YES!" The human spoke with growing irritation in his voice. "They are supposedly on this planet, Hu'yi- Hugo's... Haven. At the edge of Sspyno space." The human made sure to state that last part for the worried looking male.

"I am sure we can come to an agreement with you and your guardian. Please, she was only trying to help!" The male begged as he stepped in front of the human. The human began to gain a solid vein in his forehead from his annoyance. He chose not to say a thing before pushing past the male and making his way to the surface capable shuttle.

"Wait, please! We fixed it! Please forgive us!" The male begged as the human gave him a glare. The human continued to the shuttle, strapping down in silence. The shuttle rumbles as it disconnects from the transport ship. The human pulls out a flask from a hidden breast pocket. It looked to be made from two different types of steels, the top half old and warn, the bottom half looks clean, freshly made. The leather wrapping it looked to have some writing carved into its surface, but because of restoration processes, it was mostly removed besides the words 'To Max.'

'Max' kept quiet until the shuttle landed on the planet, stashing the flask back into a hidden breast pocket. Once allowed to get up, he heads to the sealed down, which hissed when he grabbed the handle and slowly forced it open. The air fealt heavy and humid, Max bit his lip as he fully opened the door. The light was almost blinding as he once his eyes adjusted, he could see the shuttle landed on a large wooden raft like platform.

"Hello? I have a guardian who is supposed to meet me here!" Max states out to the large swanp area around the platform. He steps out to look around better as the ship vips off once he is clear.

The murky water around around the platform stills to an eerie silence. A loud buzzing fills the air behind Max, making him shutter and turn around. Inches from his face were the proboscis of a large, four feet long mosquito like creature. Its head was cocked to the side before it made a strange noise.

The mosquito buzzed as it flew back a few feet, then jolting forwards, seemingly about to impale Max. Max shut his turned his head as he was not able to react quickly enough.

It would've if a loud snap, followed by a sickening crunch, was heard. Max turns his head back to see a large set of jaws surrounding most of the mosquito like creature. The mouth, filled with so many sharp teeth it would make a canid jealous, connected to a hard leather head, looking similarly to a gator of old earth.

Max takes a step back as a predatory eye snaps to look at him before blinking. When the eyelids opened, it had softened. The creature chews on the mosquito thing for a minute. "Ah.. damn that 'it the spot! 'Ou max? Names Hurr-gurr, or wrongeye by my friends." A heavily accented voice came from the gator, who placed a hand onto the platform and crawled up. He was missing an eye, which he pointed to when he explained his nickname.

Hurr-gurr was a solid ten feet tall slouching. They almost matched a bipedal alligator from Earth. Minus the second smaller pair of arms midway down their body... and their tail was littered with jagged hide. "Wow... 'ou are smaller than expected.." Hurr-gurr spoke slightly confused as he scratched the back of his head.

Max pulls out his table to check the name and looks back at Hurr-gurr, then back at the table. "It...didn't say you'd be this big." Max retorted as the gatorman gave a bellowing laugh.

"Well. We both surprised 'den! Let me show 'ou about then!" Hurr-gurr spoke with a low bellow in his voice. He sounded cheerful, and he quickly thunked his way down the wooden path leading off the platform.

Max stood at the platform for a moment, contemplating whether he made a good judgment. A buzzing in the distance made him finally get his ass in gear and follow behind Hurr-gurr.

If this is a problem to the lore of cuddle-verse, then I shall change it to be not be, but I hope all enjoyed! Comments and criticism very much welcomed!

[shakytailstudios]

Enid Sinclair - Lycan (3D Model) Bipedal Stance

I know that Enid's werewolf form got a not so positive reaction from the fandom but that always kind of bummed me out. As I confess, I quite like the design.

It felt very much like a canid body & human forged into one, rather than a mostly human body with some wolf traits. The rounded chest and back also gave an almost hyena like vibe,

So, I resolved to try and make a 3D model encompassing my favorite parts of that design. As best as I could with so little reference, so I had to take some liberties. Anyway, I hope folks enjoy!

Thanks to Zer' for rigging by the way!

(Quadruped Stances Found Here)

For reference at her full height Enid is around nine to ten feet tall, comparable to the Hyde, but the hunched frame tends to make her look smaller than she is.

One element I wanted to convey especially was that this is a creature as comfortable running on all fours as it is on its hind legs. Hence there being so many variants and why this took so long to finish.

One other element I really liked about the design was how elongated and gaunt the design is. That is to say, proportionally & structurally, this definitely looks like something that would freak people out.

Wednesday however, she's a big fan~

[roleplayhonestybox]

The diverse characters thing is real as hell and sometimes its just insane. Once I started plotting with someone about a monster/alien × human plot and it was decided that I would play the human. She got SO excited as I was telling her about my muse, saying that she loved him already and couldn't wait to see him. I show her the picture I'd drawn of him while we were talking. He is a black man. I never hear from her again.

This girl was about to play a canid monster with no human characteristics besides sometimes being bipedal, and my muse was all the other things these people like (cis, skinny, religiously ambiguous, able bodied) but she dips out the moment she finds out he's not white (or cutely east Asian). I'm not saying I know for a fact that's the reason she ghosted me but the timing is awfully goddamn suspicious if you ask me. Sometimes these people are just so ridiculous it's funny. Can y'all please stop being prejudiced for two seconds I'm begging you. You look childish.

.

[wolven91]

Human Guardian - One Size Fits All

Jon's radio crackled to life on his hip.

"Jon, can you get across to the 'Emmalis' sector please. We have an urgent escort request." Came dispatch's dispassionate and clinical tone.

The human grunted as he lifted with his knees to put the box that he was running inventory on, back onto the shelf where it belonged. With it safely secured he grabbed for the radio and thumbed the button for him to speak.

"Jon confirms, heading to Emmalis now."

"Acknowledged" Came the immediate reply.

He returned the radio to his hip and began a swift march to the part of the station which hosted the shorter alien delegates. It had been a busy week, it felt like every race had turned up all at once and realistically it wasn't far off the mark to say that. It was the first time since the circus when Jon had first passed the Guardian Initiative selection process that it had been this busy.

Apparently there was a summit of some kind coming up and with the impressive range of creatures appearing on station, both great and small, Jon ,like his colleagues was being run ragged. Most Guardian work wasn't actually being dedicated to a single person. At least, not for a Guardian who stayed on one station. Jon's role was to just being a helpful, welcoming presence. If there was a job to do that helped the station, he was there for it.

He smiled, nodded, waved or gave short cheerful banter to the other aliens he passed on his way. Most wore the similar blue and yellow jumpsuits of Guardians, or the grey and white of maintenance. These corridors being off limits to other creatures that weren't part of the station's staff. Plenty of vulnerable points in these sections, unwise to let crowds of people into the access corridors.

The access corridors ran to every corner of the station, regardless of who's sector it was or which race occupied those quarters. Staff would always be able to reach a delegate or guest in rapid time compared to those who had to use the more formal and fancy public walkways. The warren of tunnels weren't a secret, but like the 'Disneyland' of old, they weren't readily acknowledged by station as a whole. It was easier to just be as unobtrusive as one could be while playing host to the other races.

As Jon reached the 'Emmalis' sector, the half of the station that hosted much smaller races than the majority, he slipped on his 'Escort Harness' and showed his security card to the reader.

As he waited for approval and when his harness secured, he grabbed at his radio and thumbed the button again.

"Jon at Emmalis Sector, Subdoor 'Itty bitty'."

"Acknowledged. Stop calling it 'Itty Bitty', it's the 'Ikit Bitaris' entrance." Came a different voice from the radio, but none-the-less as formal as the last.

The light flicked from red to green and the bulkhead's bolt snapped open allowing Jon to walk through the door and into the 'airlock' checkpoint. A glass booth with a canid guard sat at a desk gave him a courtesy glance before allowing him to step forward.

"Mornin' Jon." The guard drawled. "You got a delegate needing to get to the council room early, 'parently it's urgent."

Jon nodded and shrugged.

"That's fine, are they ready to go?"

"Yeah, 'got their whiskers in a twist so don't wait around."

Jon stepped through the now open sliding door to see a pair of chintians waiting together on a raised platform. Chintians were one foot tall, furred or even spined mammalians. They reminded Jon of meerkats or perhaps chinchillas? Or some demented mixer of the two. The human gave a mental shrug. All the races could be compared to old Earth fauna, but you'd think yourself mad as none of them ever fit the mould 'perfectly'. There was always too many differences to say, 'you are a bipedal X'. Christ the taurians looked like cows and bulls but were carnivorous! Ever seen a cow with a set of teeth that would be better suited to a shark? It causes the mind to lurch.

The two chintians had delegate badges pinned to their belts and turned to the human as he passed through the checkpoint. As Jon stepped up, he turned his back on the delegate and stood still. This was all protocol, they had done this before and so had he.

The two chintians clambered up onto the various hand and foot holds of the harness that Jon wore and settled themselves.

Jon waited a moment before stepping away from the platform, at first taking practised care not to go too fast or jostle the harness that had countless loops sewn into the fabric allowing for easy grabbing and carrying of the smaller races, but there was still a knack to not jostling passengers. They simply hung on and Jon, or any escort, would carry them to their destination. This way, the smaller species didn't need to worry about being hit or accidently kicked by the larger or perhaps unobservant others.

Too many diplomatic incidents had happened and all parties involved considered this an acceptable resolution.

"We need to go fast! We must be there fast!`` Came the voice of one of the chintians, over his left shoulder. He felt the weight shift as the creature clambered up the harness with ease.

"Do you consent to running? Do you understand the risks and dangers of this action?" Jon asked, hoping they'd agree.

"Yes yes! Speed is needed!" the voice confirmed.

Jon began to sprint. Avoiding the busier paths, he kept to the edges of the corridors which were usually left empty for exactly the reason Jon was using them. Go-fors, messengers, assistants. They could always been seen scuttling from one location to the others, whilst those not on a time crunch could meander in the middle of the corridors.

He made good time to the centre of the station. From afar, the giant central council room looked like a crown jewel of the station. It was truly gigantic and often would have fog or clouds develop inside due to the sheer size of it.

He crouched and dropped off the delegate who thumbed a tip for Jon, but said nothing as he scuttled away from view and into a room.

Jon shrugged and mentally asked himself what he needed to do next and how to get there the quickest.

He was interrupted as his radio crackled to life again, he grabbed at it before the voice finished speaking.

"Jon? You done with that Escort?" Came the voice of a priority dispatcher, distinct as they were more like 'Account Managers', dealing with those who pay extra for services and their role was to ensure the higher paying guests were served in the right manner.

"Yeah, he's arrived."

"You got a 'Ursidain' request, a request by name this time. You've made an impression with folk."

Jon's face scrunched in puzzlement. He wasn't aware anyone even knew him. Although the name tag's all over his uniform would not lend him any anonymity.

"Got an idea as to what it is?" Jon asked as he jogged towards an access corridor to take the shortest route to the ursidain quarters. It shouldn't take long, he'd just circumvent the Council Hall.

"It's an ursidain called Fon, she sounded a bit distressed? Does it ring any bells?"

The realisation hit Jon like a bucket of cold water.

"Ah, yeah, I dealt with her last week. She's got hefty anxiety. It's likely I'm going to be 'booked' for the rest of the day."

"Cool, no problems, I'll ready 'double pay' if you're engaged through a break or the end of your shift."

Jon wrapped up the conversation and eventually made it to the ursidain quarters.

His next role was almost certainly going to be a 'Support' role. Even some of the larger species on the station had a habit of being nervous like everyone else. On a confined, diplomatic station, it was better to devote resources to calming them down then let them work themselves up.

Jon had met this 'Fon' a couple of weeks back, a mature giantess of a teddy bear, but one with pretty severe anxiety. As it turned out however, having Jon nearby, simply holding her paw or rather being held in her paws, was enough to keep her calm. He'd made the error at the end of his work to try and reassure her that everything was fine, she hadn't been a nuisance and if she needed him; he wouldn't mind.

Jon never thought for a second that she'd actually ask for him, let alone pay through the nose for him specifically to come help her. She must have serious cash to be able to not only request him by name, but double pay due to a person request is paid for by the person who made the request.

Exiting the next checkpoint, he didn't have a chance to even look round before a massive thick paw appeared and snatched him from his own raised platform, the environment now designed for creatures far larger than a human. He was immediately pressed into a sea of thick and soft brown fur. He had to tilt his head backwards just to give himself the space to breathe as a second giant paw began to rapidly stroke his hair again and again as a deluge of words poured from a frantic, motherly voice far above the trapped human.

"Oh I'm so glad you're here! I was so worried! The speech is coming up and I don't know if it'll go well and I suddenly got a feeling that something had already gone wrong! And then I thought about you and was worried the feeling was to do with you! It was-"

"I'm fine! It's okay! Take a breath!" Jon cut in; his voice strained as his ribs creaked from the pressure of being squeezed into the matronly Fon.

Two giant bellows beneath the fur and flesh that Jon was still being pressed into began to inflate, it was humbling to feel such massive biological machine work as he was pressed into it.

The bellows deflated in a loud sigh above him.

"I'm sorry Jon. Do you need me to put you down? I-I-I can go without you if you're busy?"

Jon mentally kicked himself for not taking the opportunity to escape, but he was a resolute professional. He was one of the very first human guardians and he was glad to be the one that showed the aliens that whatever they can do; humans can too.

"No, I've nothing else to do today." He lied. "When your call came in I was twiddling my thumbs, you know?"

The pressure increased again as he was swung from side to side by the giant bear-like alien.

"Oh I'm so glad! You could sit on my lap while the speech is given! Oh that would help so so much! Thank you thank you!"

He was pulled from the chest and brought up to a familiar face, that had puckered its lips before planting them firmly against his face. The 'light' suction nearly pulled his entire head in between those lips before they disconnected with a dramatic 'mwah' and he was returned to a galactic sized bear hug and it felt like they were moving again. He rubbed the wetness from his face as the voice spoke up again, vibrating him as it rumbled through the giant's body.

"I'll get some snacks, and a blanket and we'll make it all cosy in my delegate booth!"

Jon tilted his head at that. The delegates, especially the ursidain ones,did always get the nicest food after all.

[ospkiiwritings]

Ospkii II

“With Humanity and Ospkii arm in wing they journeyed out into the stardust seas. The Ospkii taught Humanity to work together and Humanity taught Ospkii how to war.” A phone is lifted off a console, a menagerie of blinking lights, levers and screens littering the interface in a methodical yet chaotic pattern. The phone is pointed forward to a planet of almost teal seas and white lands of snow and mountains, mostly cloud free for the minute. “Meet the second species in space the two met, Wupine. A canid species akin to wolves, bipedal in all their furry glory.” There’s a small snort to the right. “A war lasting an entire month over a trivial spice planet.”

One of the screens light up, displaying a silvery wolf man, a Wupine in jumpsuit and the most bored expression a wolf could muster. “Planet Terra here, permission to scan?” He idly looked up at the presumed camera, eyes flicking from Harris to Sueary.

“This is the H.T.V Meteo,” Sueary quickly replies, her beak entering the frame, “permission granted, no additional cargo aside from detailed.” The Wupine idly taps a button, then notices the phone in hand, he straightens up and blinks away sleep, shifting to a professional demeanour, much to the two’s amusement.

“Everything is in order, Meteo. Autopilot being set to hanger 4.9. Enjoy your stay.” With that the screen goes blank, Harris panning to Sueary.

“With the three as trading partners, a simple question was asked, Sueary?” She rolls her eyes at the camera, her best attempt at a smirk on her beak.

“Put away the phone, Harris. It’s been five human months and six ospkii months, I have to know if Wupine among the Stars has received a season four!”

Harris chuckles, pulling the phone away from her talons. “The question being, ‘is Wupine fiction better than our own? Answer, absolutely not. Wupine among the Stars is trashy paranormal bromance.”

“You take that back!” With her hopping out of the seat at him, the video ended with Harris screaming in pretend fear.

[jimothy-g-brooks]

Fakemon: Dog With Stick

Fakemon designs I woke up with in my head:

Dogmestik - Normal-type Descriptor: A happy pupper holding an oversized stick in its mouth Name: Dog + Domestic + Stick

Shogaro - Fighting-type Evolves from Dogmestik when leveling up past 20 holding Warrior Band Descriptor: A bipedal wolf with a fur coat suggestive of a samurai noble. The stick has become a bokken with a red band wrapped around the handle. Name: Shogun + Garou

Mikitsun - Psychic-type Evolves from Dogmestik when leveling up past 20 holding Priest Charm Descriptor: A bipedal fox with a fur coat suggestive of a miko shrine maiden. The stick has become a staff with bell and ring charm at the top. Name: Miko + Kitsune

Canin - Normal-type Evolves from Dogmestik at level 25 Descriptor: A bipedal dog with a fur coat suggestive of a maid. Canin's head is often subserviently bowed but with one sly eye open. The stick has become a broom with a subtly sharpened end. Ability: Ninjutsu - Dark-type moves have STAB and user has resistance to Psychic Name: Canine + Nin, meant to pair well with pre-evo, as in "canis domesticus"

Overall theme is "dog with stick" turning into "canids as Japanese castes" that uses the stick in different ways and forms a functional perfect triangle. Canin is the odd-pup-out for multiple reasons; being only a pseudo-Dark-type with its ability in order to iron on the "Psychic-immunity" kink in an otherwise perfect triangle, being the only one to evolve my normal levelling and being a Western-themed 'mon as a maid, albeit a ninja maid harkening to the historical precedent of ninjas disguising themselves as servants. In a way, Canin is a Dark-type masquerading as a Normal-type.

[eachuisge-cc]

Feel like info dumping your cat lore? I doubt I'm the only one who's curious.

I always feel like infodumping, thanks for giving me a reason!

so my preferred way of designing cat people is less "cat/human hybrid" and more "cats that happen to be people-shaped and sapient." kind of in the same way hyenas look like dogs despite being members of feliformia because there was an open evolutionary niche for dogs and no canids around, wherever these dudes came from had a niche for smart dexterous bipedal persistence hunters but no hominids. which is why their silhouette is very human but their biology is very feline (full body fur, five digits on the forelimbs and four in the back, primarily carnivores though they're more omnivorous than most felids, claws albeit not retractable ones because fingers don't work like that). I also stuck them in felinae despite some of their markings resembling big cats because it just made more sense for something that can speak with a human-like voice. so they can't roar, but they can purr. they should probably be related most closely to civets honestly but I had to draw the line somewhere.

yes I put the cat people in felinae and then named the strip club that hires cat people Panthera. don't worry about it.

As a consequence of this it's impossible for then to crossbreed with anything but aliens (which I like to think of as the citrus trees of kingdom animalia) but this is a good thing because I already have too many projects.

Their color genetics are very similar to domestic cats because that's the most fun way to do it and I wanted lots of colors/markings, but they've got a different variety of agouti patterns because I wanted to do tiger stripes and cheetah spots. I might fuck around and give them some of my cathar reduced colorpoint genes just because they look cool, probably again via overlay for max variety.

They originated in the magic realm and have a much higher tendency to have innate magical powers than humans do (though they don't always). They're more common in some regions than others but they're an actual majority in Evergreen Harbor, because a large colony of them moved in after humans abandoned the area, and they're the main driving force behind repurposing the town and making it livable again. They're otherwise pretty common in San Myshuno (because you can find everything from cyborgs to satyrs in San Myshuno) and Glimmerbrook (because there's a portal right there). They're less common in other places but you'll still generally see a couple of them around, and their presence is taken in stride in most decently populated places. the exceptions to this are Moonwood Mill, because they do Not generally get on with werewolves, and Strangerville, whose residents are unaware that anything supernatural is real. There's a certain tendency outside Evergreen and Glimmerbrook for other occults to see them in kind of the same way the star wars universe sees twi'leks, which is why Panthera was a solid business model, but it's mainly a thing in Del Sol and Myshuno and there are also like, cat people lawyers and shit even in those places. because so many are based in Evergreen, the most common careers you'll find them in are civil engineering type jobs, and given the innate tendency of cats to bend society to their will, they do very well for themselves.

so yeah that was uh. a disorganized and long-winded ramble but thank you for taking an interest! if you have questions about a specific aspect of them I'm happy to answer those too.

[panicbones]

Emergent Properties by Aimee Ogden has a bot MC. While ze does spend a decent amount of the book in a human form frame (no skin) in the first half ze's running around in a tiny spider frame. And we start the book with zir booting from a backup because ze died. Whoops!

Also, The Final Architecture trilogy by Adrian Tchaikovsky does not have a bot MC but does have a non human form bot* that gets some POV time and several who are important regularly occurring characters. Theres also a minor background plot/theme going on with the hivers about what is death and identity for a machine intelligence

A bit farther out of prompt but he's also got Dog's of War. The MC is a bipedal canid cyborg who's history and path mirror Murderbot in a lot of ways. Rex definitely doesn't want to be human, don't even think he wants to be free most of the time but he does what he has to for his people

*The Hivers are running on bio tech so they might not be bot enough for you. They're hybrid insect/machines with each hiver instance having a colony of millions of tiny insects hiding in their chassis (this is Tchaikovsky MO lol. He loves bug bots)

Do you count shipminds as bots? There a couple of those out there

anon i love you. and i love shipminds tell me more

[turvuren]

Fantasy AU, Rutile being a Lupi - a race of humans who resemble wolves - bred either for breeding or hunting... Essentially being a bipedal dog, really. Rutile is a hunting Lupi, with pointed ears and pawpads, canid bits. Lupi's reproductive systems are a bit different, after all.

Yellow and Padparadscha are two hunters/travelers passing by. They make camp in an abandoned cabin, expecting it to be uninhabited, but hear scratching and metal dragging downstairs - they find Rutile, a lone lupi, imprisoned there and left to rot for punishment of killing the king of her kingdom. The two men don't really care for the politics of the kingdom, and Padparadscha practically begs his older friend to set her free.

Yellow agrees, using his spear to effortlessly cut through the chains that bind Rutile's ankles and wrists. But on one condition - she serves as their puppy.

...side note, i feel bad sometimes because stuff i write is nothing like canon and i havent touched the manga in ages + never kept up with updates. i just know: rutile hot, padpa yellow hot, i want them to fuck.

[milwaukee-protocol]

I'm starting to question if I'm actually a werewolf or if most of what I was feeling was this... I don't even know what to call it. Skullbeast? It's not a hellhound, it's just an undead, usually bipedal, canid monster with a skull for a face and shaggy pitch black fur.