#furry author

[the-altered-sequence]

If only the warfare that nearly wiped out humanity had actually finished the job. Then Dev and the other remaining genetically Altered supersoldiers wouldn't be facing what could be their final days scraping by. They went from science experiments to vermin and today is the last straw. Their plan to finally end the fighting backfires, and now they face an even more frightening reality. The new human leader, Alessandra, doesn't want them dead. She needs their help. Dev isn't sure if his decision to help her will save them... or get them all killed.

Bound to Ashes (originally released in 2014) is a fast-paced, character-driven post-apocalyptic sci-fi novel (~90k words) about learning to trust and doing what's right even though no right has ever been done to you.

Status: OPEN for Beta Reading and FREE. (Link goes to the Google Doc folder.) Check out the additional document for feedback guidelines.

Reviews and more under the cut.

Content warning for language and violence.

I love post-apocalyptic settings. The idea of humanity as it is now getting a "reset" is compelling. But I was disappointed by the vast majority of post-apoc media rife with misogyny, alpha male kitsch, and grimdark nihilism. I wanted characters that felt the hopelessness of the world but still chose to be better. I wrote BtA to be the change.

BtA was my first serious writing project when I was 21, back in '12. Since then it has gone through 10 drafts, a few serious beta readers, a self-publishing, an un-self-publishing, and a last polish this year (2024) to finalize series-wide changes.

Here's what readers have said about Bound to Ashes:

"Bound to Ashes is everything I wish Maze Runner was."

"It took me three sentences to fall in love with this book, and it kept me hooked until the very end. Amazing read that I will be passing along to my friends."

"The mental images projected were vibrant and intense, and had me in tears in a bath."

[caxycreations]

Just reworked my entire Patreon, total overhaul

There's now only 4 tiers, as shown here:

And starting now, ALL future Patreon work will be 100% Patreon exclusive. I will still be posting public SFW and NSFW work to the pages that allow such, but there will be set pieces that are unique to Patreon.

If you want to subscribe, you can click the link below, or click here instead.

[lucariwoah]

SEND ME ASKS ABOUT MY STORIES (PLZ :3)

Hey.

Send me asks about my stories. Please for the love of God. I need to talk about my stories. Here, I'll give synopsis of each one!!

Badrigulay

A not-so-human creature awakens in a dark castle in a forest as deep as it is old. Their realm is in chaos, demons have come to claim the souls of it's people to take to their realm for slave labor and punishment. Badrigulay, our nature-goddess hero, must put a stop to this and reclaim the lost souls of the Garden of Eden. The overweight dragon god of souls, life, nature, and the very essence of this world has a lot of work ahead of them.

The Fable Lands

Life is simple for Blumure Murduesong. Their sterile human life remains monotonous and safe within the walls of Capital West, one of six human cities upon Earth. All there have ever been is humanity, and that's all that will ever be. But nobody knows about his imaginary friend he's kept secret all this time. The painted dragon, Kolena. She helps take care of him and keep him company. But the Church of the Immutable Form does not tolerate any shape besides human. Blumure may be changed forever by the unknowable darkness of night, outside the walls of Capital West.

Rather Be Dragon

Eleni Bellum, a boy who has always longed to be more than human, maybe even a dragon, wakes up in the body of an ancient, morbidly obese, time-manipilating Mercury dragon after dreaming of receiving a porcelain dragon masked inscribed with the name Somastra. They meet a gravity dragon named Sid with a cracked mask similar to theirs who has forgotten their past and seeks friendship and safety with others. They want to escape the danger and darkness of the layer of filth they both woke up in, so they must go on a journey to navigate the dimensions and realms of elements and intensities that surround our universe, seemingly created by dragons, so they can get back to Earth safely with their bodies and minds still intact.

Lossery

Two employees of a digital flower shop that exists in the atomic virtual universe, the Omnisrete, have to deal with the horrible wickedness of their capitalist overlords and find ways to survive and fight back against unjust punishment, horrible labor laws, and lack of breaks. Yarrow, the huge strawberry cow, has trouble remembering who she was and loses consciousness when trying to think to hard. Dillard, the lanky blackberry armadillo, tries to take care of her friend but can't do much against the bosses and rules and mysterious lack of infrastructure and resources this job expects them to have but is absent like erased code from the flower fields they work in. Will they survive this digital hellscape to understand who they are and why they're here?

No Kobolds on Unia

On a planet where goblins have Snapchat and dwarves have perfected fracking and oil drilling, the modern fantasy world of Asbreicha is teeming with life, people, and technology. One kobold, Squeesha Firefoot, has recently been dumped by her long-time boyfriend who is going off to the esteemed college of Bridleheart to pursue an education in historical research. Wanting to impress her ex, she follows in his footsteps to try and get his attention and love back, only to fall in love with ancient history of the world she calls home. Myths and legends give way to historical record and fact. Once upon a time, magic existed in these lands, but an ancient threat required that power sealed off from the universe. Squeesha vows she will understand more about this history for herself, and goes to Unia on the first-ever Bridleheart historical expedition to look for clues surrounding a mysterious relic known only as The Black Door. What will she find there, and will it change life as she knows it forever?

Lmao I love how at the end there the synopsis get really long. Honestly the stories are in order of oldest to newest so there's different levels of development between them.

Anyway please let me know if you're curious about any of these a little more!!! I'm so happy to share cuz I've got so many ideas and written a lot already.

[ibelonginarkham]

It doesn't matter how perfect or long the book is, what matters is that you enjoyed writing it and people enjoy reading it and you ignore those who bring you down about it.

Remember, it's your story, and it always will be.

[godzilladidnothingwrong]

happy godzilla day! heres a fake poster i made for my kaiju oc's debut: "Godzilla vs Morinu" (1974)

textless version under the cut

[tryspellbound]

When Gojo cat sits Taylor's cats

You're in Taylor's living room. There's cat stuff everywhere. Gojo is standing in the middle, looking lost. One cat is on top of a bookshelf. Another is hiding under the couch. A third is pawing at Gojo's robe. Pur..Pur..

The cats are running around. You decide to help out....or not... ;)

Check out the the complete story here ^_^

Spellbound Interactive Storytelling

[unstablebill]

For Pride as a Special Treat�� I'm buying a BLAZE of my queer murder mystery novel! 🤩 PLEASE LOOK UPON IT!

I love cozy mysteries but there is a distinct lack of them in queer/furry spaces, so I wrote one 😌 You can find it on lovely indy press Furplanet at the link below! 4 illustrations and covers by @jayfitzmaurice

A Summer Vacation to Die For

Dr. Ino Reamer has a lot of plans for his summer vacation — relaxing, working out, trying to conquer the crushing ennui of his 30s. Solving a murder was not part of these plans. But when a colleague's grim demise very nearly ends Ino's tenure, the hyena can't help but apply the scientific method to his search for the truth. When a few suspicious characters take note of Ino's investigation, the case takes on a new urgency, and now Ino must crack the case before Finals Week becomes his final week! 😱

386 pages, rated R (murder off screen)

https://furplanet.com/shop/item.aspx?itemid=1202

(you CAN get it on Amazon but please support my independent publisher!!)

"Enthralling murder mystery? Check. Loveable furry characters? Check. Adorable/cheesy romance? Double-check. If you share any of these interests, I highly recommend picking up this book, you won't regret it!" - review

This is part 1 of a planned 4 part series so please watch me for updates on my upcoming books. I am a small author so I appreciate the support - please follow and reblog and like and share and subscribe and whatever else we do these days!

Thank you for reading! 😁

[tigerwing-infinity]

Cat HRT, -3 months

I decided to check my social medias before bed, and came across something… unexpected. A recommended tag of humanity removal therapy timelines. I decided to check them out, largely because of a tiger woman I saw in the tag header.

I clicked onto her profile and was surprised by the pang of longing I felt… realization that it was an option, to become an animal. I mulled over that fact as I read some of the others, but kept coming back to the tiger woman I saw. Seeing her felt like some chord was struck in my chest. Felt almost right, and that I wanted to be like her, but not quite.

I went to bed, thinking about the stories, and dreamed of being a cat, running through a forest. My own cats, Sprinkles, Buffy, Dipstick, Biscuits, and Ash ran beside me. In the dream, we ran for miles and miles, across fields, forest, and roads alike...

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

I woke up and got ready for work, and my mind drifted to what I’d read last night. I kept thinking about it all day, even as I was working. This distraction, this buzzing in my mind, persisted. That I should give it a try, to become what I want so badly but didn’t even realize what the swelling of feeling that had been growing in the back of my mind for years actually was. It felt similar to my realization that I was a man, but something else entirely.

After nearly a month of this back and forth and letting the feelings rest (or ignoring them), I decided on what to do. What I needed to do. After another week, I actually got the guts together to call and make an appointment with the same doctor as most of the others I’d seen.

I nearly put the phone down as it rang and I navigated the listed the menu options, but before I could chicken out entirely the receptionist answered.

“Hello, are you calling to schedule an appointment with Dr. Erian for humanity removal therapy?”

I tried not to sound too nervous, but my voice still cracked as I answered. “Yes, yes I am. I’d like to start as soon as I can.”

“We have an opening on December 16th for 2pm, would that work for you?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Birthdate of the patient?”

“06 06, 2002.”

“Name?”

“James. Last name is…”

“Thank you, you’re all set. See you this December.”

[syndromestatic]

HAI YAWL!!! Silly Snufkin w/ a bound chest doodles bc i love projection.

PS. This should be obvious but to cover all my bases this is all non-sexual. pls do not b weird.

[lieutenant-fred]

more doodling of my fursona (i have a proper design for him now)

[cokicito]

Tumblr is great, but it's such a low-interaction platform. Don't get me wrong, I love the likes and reblogs and shouting into the void, but I also want to listen! I want someone to randomly hmu at 3am because they saw their favorite shota and can't stop foaming at the mouth! I want someone to spam the shit out of my inbox critiquing a fanfiction that mischaracterizes their fav so bad it makes them fume! I'm not much of a writer, but I'd love to take in ideas, or rants about OCs! I want to be the void you shout into!

[wolsalwastaken]

How it feels being an author/writer

Not often i actually talk to my audience here.

Why start that now! Bye nerds, enjoy my wacky bullshit!

[jades-typurriter]

Sherry (Shaken, Stirred) & Spectre

Hiiiiii y'aaaall I have a backlog againnnnn Including!! A story inspired by some conversations with @bluebearial and also my own Spectre-related brainrot (so, nothing new) Additionally, illustrated once again by bowsiosaurus!! merry christmas bee lmao

NSFW CW: Ear penetration, TF, lil bit of personality change

Another muggy night had descended on the city streets. From above, punctured by distant, dim stars, and from below, lit by blinding, hypnotic neon; from without beset by urban smog, and from within clouded by cigar smoke and heady excitement. It was another perfect night for Ceri to watch quietly, longingly, from the bar in the back of the dining hall, the stage lights illuminating her desire reaching her like the distant smears of headlights on a highway through a rain-streaked window. Unbeknownst to the scotch-slinging Shinx, it was also the perfect kind of night for ghosts to set out on the prowl. Witching hour was the same for the drunk and the dead, the ghouls and the gamblers, the lich and the lech. From the haze of the smoky room, from between the spirits on the shelf, emerged one such spirit, looming and leering over the Luxray-in-waiting’s shoulders. She was fuzzy in both clarity and texture, Oran-blue except for a yellow glow in her eyes that would’ve put an Umbreon to shame and limelight-white teeth that could each have passed for the tip of a Grip Claw. She only noticed the hovering horror when she loosed a low, bartop-shaking growl.

A flighty girl, she nearly jumped out of her neatly-pressed purple server’s uniform, fumbling a drink shaker and a bottle of liquor high into the air. As she scrambled to catch them, she looked up at the stage, breathing heavily, first and foremost worried that she had made herself look a fool in front of the night’s actual performer, Eleanor, the Floatzel of her fantasies. She glanced back from beneath the spotlights, sending a wink across the room, through the Shinx’s heart, and all up and down her spine. She’d successfully passed the save off as a particularly flashy mixologist’s maneuver, though she assumed that Eleanor simply hadn’t noticed—not out of the ordinary for her, a voice from deep in the back of her mind needled her. More pressing was the voice emanating from the back of the bar, which she’d only just collected herself enough to remember.

“My, my~,” the apparition appraised her, “what do we have here…?” Ceri whipped around, finding her snout full of stomach and her bar flooded with blue. She’d suspected that Derrick, the more lax of the pair of Incineroar bouncers, had snuck up on her for a laugh, but as her eyes struggled to make sense of what she was seeing, she quickly realized that it wasn’t the person before her that had growled. She gulped. The ghost giggled, bringing a paw to her mouth.

“WH!! Wh-what are you doing behind the bar?” Ceri managed.

“Hmm~? I’m afuraid there’s nya-body behind the bar but you, cutie-cat,” she snickered. “Mew seem to be talking to yourself~.”

Back pressed against the edge of the counter, paws gripping the marble until the figure could see her knuckles turning white through her powder-blue fur, Ceri whipped her head around to look out at the patrons, at Eleanor, at Derrick or Rhodney, at anyone. One or two people were still eyeing her after her noisy little display with the drinks; the boys had their attention firmly set on the front door and on the entrance to the dressing room. Nobody seemed to notice the prodigious poltergeist but her.

“What d-do you w-w-want?” she whispered, desperate for this to be some kind of dream, and desperate to not seem crazy if it was. The ghost unrolled a gooey, squishy tongue from between plush, shiny black lips, faintly illuminating the two of them in the same amber light that poured from her catlike eyes. A Gastly, then, Ceri distantly recognized. Unfortunately for her, one that seemed famished. If she wasn’t asleep now, she would be any second, suffocated by the phantom’s deadly fumes. It’d be over by the time she hit the ground, and it’d just look like a fainting spell—nobody would know how bad it really was until it was far, far too late.

“Why does anybody go out to a restaurant?” the monstrous woman mused in her rumbly, sultry voice, confirming the Shinx’s worst fears. She was paralyzed with fear, so much so that she couldn’t even bring herself to shout for her coworkers. “I came looking for dinner, but it seems I’ve found meowself a show instead~!”

“Arceus, please—” she squeaked, shaking so hard it was a wonder the glasses weren’t rattling. “P-p-please don’t eat me! I h—I never got to… I don’t wanna…” She sunk slightly down the side of the bar, her legs turning to jelly beneath her. “I’m never gonna get to tell Eleanor…”

The hungry haunt crept closer and closer, until her triangle nose was nearly pressed up against Ceri’s, sharp grin growing and growing with every inch the gap closed. The laughter in her throat rose from a purr, to a menacing chuckle, to a full-on cackle—before suddenly pulling away. She floated in the air above the Shinx, sprawled out like she rested atop an invisible tree branch. Her paw rose to her chin again as the evil laughter rattling in Ceri’s oversized ears turned into a catty, girlish giggling; Ceri herself looked up in confusion and shock.

“Oh, don’t be silly! I could never eat a purrecious thing like you~,” the ghost reassured her. “Though I think I was right on the meowney about my entertainment fur the night…” She rolled over in the air, her flowing hair cascading nearly to the floor as she made upside-down Electric-Type eye contact. “Why don’t you tell me all about this ‘Eleanor’, hmm?”

Ceri’s ears reflexively flicked toward the stage, worried that the Floatzel’s safety was now in question. She watched her would-be predator’s eyes follow the motion and saw the ghostly gears turning in her head; that was all she needed to put the pieces together.

“Ohhhh, I see~,” she purred, righting herself and sinking to be face-to-face with Ceri once again. “Mew have a little crush! And mew haven’t been able to speak up about it, seems like.” The crestfallen expression on the bartender’s face was clearer confirmation than any response she could’ve mustered, terrified or otherwise. Blood finally returned the color to her face, but especially to her cheeks; as they burned, she straightened herself up a bit.

“Wh-who,” she stammered, “who even are you?! You’ve got a lotta nerve, you know!” Her huffiness only elicited more amused chuckling from the bigger, bluer cat.

“I’m Spectre,” she began, “but mew can call me your lucky charm~.”

“Oh, really? I sure feel lucky.”

“Well, meow often do you get the chance for the boost you need to finally speak your mind?” At this, Ceri paused. After a moment’s hesitation, she crossed her arms.

“Yeah?”

“I specialize in this sort of thing,” Spectre hummed, turning over one of her paws to nonchalantly inspect her claw tips.

“Oh, that’s a shame. You’d make a killing as a haunted house actor.”

“A killing, hmm~?” She was uncomfortably close to the Shinx again, who swatted her paws around like she was shooing away an unpleasant smell.

“Alright, alright, just… what's the tip?”

“Tip? It’s mewsually a little more in-depth than that. I’m nyat a mewracle worker!” Ceri rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we go somewhere a little more purrivate and have a longer chat a-meow-t this, hm~?”

“I could take my bathroom break,” she said, flatly.

“Do mew really want someone to walk in on mew having a confursation with the wall of the stall? There’s got to be somewhere we can really have all to ourselves.”

“...We could go backstage.”

“Oh, purrfect~! Then we’ll be ready for your little lady furiend anyway.”

Heaving her shoulders with a sigh, the bartender looked around one more time to make sure nobody had been listening in on her seemingly one-sided conversation. As she walked toward the side of the dining room, she could feel Spectre’s presence weighing practically right on top of her. She approached Rhodney, the stricter of the two bouncers, who raised one eyebrow over his pair of sunglasses.

“What’s the matter, Ceri? Your paws seemed a bit shaky earlier.” She winced—seems he did see her little “save” earlier, or at least saw her having what felt like a panic attack.

“Oh, I’m fine now, but… thanks.”

“‘Course. We’re always here for you, you know.”

“Can I ask a favor then, actually?”

“Be my guest.”

“I gotta get past you real quick.”

His eyebrow shot up again, even further this time.

“‘Employees Only’ only really applies to Eleanor here, you know.”

“Yeah, but… I’m gonna, um. Try to talk to her, tonight.”

Both eyebrows were fully clear of the darkened lenses, now. Rhodney whistled a quick, sharp whistle, getting Derrick’s attention from where he stood at the entrance, and made a brief, unintelligible gesture with one paw. Derrick lowered his shades, leaning fully forward, mouth agape in surprise and excitement; he shot Ceri two thumbs up and set off in the direction of another of their coworkers. Blushing once again, Ceri glanced at Spectre (laughing to herself, nyaturally~) and back up at Rhodney, who looked through her as though she wasn’t there at all.

“Break a leg,” he mumbled discreetly, sliding his key into the doorknob without so much as turning around. She quietly thanked him and ducked past his arm into the dim dressing room, lit only by the faint orange glow of the incandescent bulbs studding Eleanor’s makeup mirror.

“Nyaaaaaalri~ight!” Spectre warbled, pushing Ceri straight to the folding canvas chair, complete with a star on the back of it, that stood in front of the mirror. With her half-corporeal paws squeezing Ceri’s shoulders, she looked at her in the mirror, eyes like another pair of bulbs, adding an uncanny glare to the usually-soft modeling lighting. “Why don’t mew fill me in on nyaaaaaalllll the little details?”

“Well,” the Shinx began, “I started working here about two years ago—”

She trailed off as she watched Spectre cringe.

“What?”

“Two years?”

“Yes???”

“And mew haven’t said a word to her about the fact that you’re attracted to her.”

“I don’t see the problem with that! It’s normal to know each other for a while before you start up a relationship,” Ceri huffed.

“She was the last thing mew saw when your life flashed before your eyes.”

“...”

“She was going to be your finyal regret.”

“Man.”

“And all that with friends as supportive as that hunk outside? It just seems like—”

“Alright! Alright. Maybe I’ve been dragging my feet about it. What do mew—ugh, what do YOU suggest?” She glowered at Spectre, who could barely contain her smile at that.

“Well,” she began, “I don’t think my mewsual methods are going to work here. Much too slow.”

“I think you’ve established that I don’t mind taking things slow.”

“Nyes, but mew did make a purromise to that friend of yours that mew’d be making a move tonight…” The Shinx’s eyes took on a distant (ironically, haunted) look in the mirror.

“Fuck,” she spat, burying her face in her paws.

“Seems like mew don’t have a choice but to let me work my magic~.”

“Just do it. Do whatever you gotta do!”

“I’m going to hold mew to that,” she cooed, somewhat ominously. “Just to be totally clear: I have purr-meow-ssion to take nyastic meowsures?”

“For the love of Arceus, will you cut to the chase?! I don’t wanna get their hopes up again just to chicken out. Do what you gotta do.”

“If mew say so~!”

Spectre rose so that her belly was roughly face-height with Ceri again, and with a snap of her paw, a cloud of ethereal smoke began pooling at her waist. Or, maybe, the smoke had been there the whole time, and was just now dissipating…? Either way, once it had cleared enough for Ceri to see again, her cheek was brushing up against a cock as long as her arm; its bright-blue tip, big as a fist, peeked out from beneath Spectre’s fuzzy foreskin. It was already rock-hard (or as hard as a ghost could be…), throbbing and leaking some kind of ectoplasm. She was shocked at the mess she was already making, but it was frankly no surprise when she looked past it and at the head-sized balls bouncing beneath it as Spectre bobbed in the air next to her.

“What the hell is this?!”

“Call it my secret weapon~.”

“No,” she hissed, recoiling away hard enough for the chair to scooch with her, “I mean why is it out?! Were you going to ‘trade’ me for your help?!”

“This is the help, cutie-cat. Just consider it purractice for being intimate with a lady, hm~?” Ceri squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples with her paws. She was nearly shaking with frustration, having had it up to her neck with baits-and-switches. She shot up from her chair, sliding it back with the force of the outburst, clenched paws raised in kitten rage.

“GGGRRRRRRRRRGGRRHRHRGHGRGHRGRGGGGET ON WITH IT!” the Shinx roared.

Once more, that was all Spectre needed. She adjusted the height she was floating at, grazing Ceri’s face once again with her tip, leaving a glob of sticky ghost-goo in her fur. To her surprise, the phantom’s phallus passed right by her mouth (which was a bit of a relief; she had no idea how she was going to handle that thing). Instead, she started aligning herself with one of the Shinx’s radar-dish ears (which was quite the opposite! She had even LESS of an idea what she was doing!).

“I—Okay, I know I said you could do whatever you needed to do, but I don’t really understand—”

“I’m getting in there directly, sweetheart.” In an instant, Spectre had swooped down to whisper right into the Shinx’s sensitive ear, her lower lip just barely making contact with its thin, furry edge. Her voice made Ceri shudder again, this time not from fear, but from the sheer smoothness of the sound; it didn’t help that her breath steamed not with warmth, but with an unnatural chill. She could hear the saliva in her mouth, she was so close. Every little movement of her oversized, squishy tongue, every last flexing vocal cord… she practically melted into the chair when the spirit swallowed before speaking again. “Just relax and enjoy the nyadjustments~!”

Before she could protest any further, Spectre was floating above her, lined up once again and beginning to press forward with her hips, the tip of her cock squeezing in with much less resistance than made any sense. Ceri felt a tingling in a fairly straight line through the side of her head toward the center, like Spectre was simply phasing through her the way she’d floated straight through the walls before, but at the same time she felt an unsettling, slimy, squishy sensation. It had certainly looked solid enough when she was face-to-face with it before, but now she felt it molding to the cramped spaces inside her ear, squishing like it was no more substantial than jelly… The Shinx could only offer a whimper and a shudder, overwhelmed by the conflicting signals her brain was receiving.

Progress quickly halted, though, as it poked and prodded up against something that felt relatively solid on the inside of the bartender’s head. Was it the ear drum? The skull itself? Spectre didn’t seem to care what it was; she was starting to pant, moaning and muttering curses under breath the deeper she managed to force herself. Her foreskin rolled back and forth over her tip as she gave exploratory little thrusts, testing the obstruction, tickling Ceri’s sensitive inner ear all the while. Soon enough, apparently satisfied that she had loosened things up enough, she pressed forward with one slow, unrelenting movement of her hips. Something gave with a POP; Ceri’s eyes rolled back, her legs giving out from under her, as Spectre’s cock jutted deeper into her in one smooth, final motion. Weightless as she was, Spectre’s rhythm didn’t seem at all perturbed as Ceri sank back into the chair beneath her; she simply floated with down with her, pulled like a balloon on a string, her wispy lower body fully wrapped around Ceri’s torso as she clung to her, pumping in and out of her ear with increasing desperation. She may have been incorporeal, but her hips—her nuts—certainly still made an impact with each thrust, her fuzzy sack meeting Ceri’s cheek like she was on the losing side of a brutal pillow fight, whap, whap, WHAP.

Slick, squelching noises assaulted the Shinx’s senses as more and more of Spectre’s ethereal precum coated the inside of her ear, of her skull. Every pump, every gush, every SCHLCK rearranged her very brain, leaving more and more of the ghost’s musky, steamy scent on her body and more and more of her mark on her mind. Ceri began to faintly glow just like her current partner, brilliant white instead of eerie blue; something about her felt more malleable, all the way through her body, and Spectre wasted no time in taking advantage of how accommodating her ear canal had become.

Ceri’s fur began to thicken, to darken, a new clump somewhere on her body cropping up every time the spirit bucked her hips, filling out into a wild, bestial mane. One by one, in time with Spectre’s movements, her claws elongated, bursting from the tips of her paws, which themselves had become stronger, larger, more intimidating, more imposing. Her feet dragged across the floor as they grew, her legs stretching farther and farther away from her in the low seat; her arms, limp at her sides, followed suit as she twitched and writhed (her ears flicked, twitched, practically clenched around Spectre’s cock—if she had any room in her head for a stray thought, she’d be surprised that they could even do that).

Slowly, her three-piece suit began to tighten around her thighs, and the buttons of her dress shirt began to strain around her bust. The sounds of tearing fabric mixed with the wet shlorps reverberating through her head, exposing her once-perky, now-sloshing breasts, separated by a dense tuft of black fur, bright-yellow nipples buried among sky blue. As her growing body shredded its way through her slacks, her panties strained against her own, suddenly much larger, cock. They were already soaked through with pre at her tip, the smooth, tapering swoop of her kittycock pitching a neat little tent in the girly little article. Every time Spectre rammed her ear, a new soft barb budded along the surface of Ceri’s cock, making it throb wildly, sending a shock all the way down her spine (and a literal shock into Spectre, only egging her on further).

As Ceri’s hips bounced, trying to fuck the empty air, Spectre continued pushing deeper and deeper into her mind, inching closer and closer to putting a “finishing touch” on her protege’s attitude; pleasure wasn’t the only thing that’d be flooding her mind, soon enough. There was a good chance the room would be flooded, too—after ramming and ramming against another wall on the opposite side of Ceri’s skull, Spectre finally pushed through a second time, her half-tangible cock jutting clean through the Electric-Type’s other ear, drooling phantasmal precum down her other cheek and all over her now-bare shoulder.

Squeezing through both earholes was like fucking a toy made up of tight rings, or being stroked in the firm grip of two strong hands; the near ear massaged the base of Spectre’s dick, and the far ear bore down around her sensitive tip with each pass. At this point, every stroke forced a rope of cum out of Ceri’s cock, drenching her panties further. Some of her mini-orgasms were powerful enough to shoot through the fabric, pooling into a musky mess between her paws on the floor below.

The whites of Ceri’s eyes turned a pale red, still practically staring at the back of her skull; Spectre’s paws clutched at her pet project’s head, petting her, slamming into her, hunched over so far that her tummy smushed around Ceri’s snout. They were both about to finish, Ceri with her makeover and Spectre with, well, you know. When she finally blew her load, she didn’t stop pounding—half of it squirted out her far ear, splattering an ocean of cum on the floor alongside Ceri’s comparative lake, and half of it sloshed around the remaining slurry of Ceri’s thoughts, mixing in a potent dose of Spectre’s signature sexual confidence, her hunger, her lust. They nyowled in unison, tongues hanging out (Spectre’s dangling much further than Ceri’s, and making much more of a sticky mess); as they both rode out their climaxes, they settled into each other and began purring in unison.

The poltergeist eventually pulled out, the sensation sending spasms through Ceri’s body (and a little more cum onto the floor). After a few moments, consciousness returned to her, her eyes refocusing just in time to see Spectre making that monster of hers magically disappear with nothing more than a wave of her paw. She blinked hard, once, twice, then turned her attention from the manifestation to the mirror, appraising herself. She was… she was a Luxray!

“So, kitten?” Spectre purred, placing her paws back on Ceri’s shoulders like a hairstylist admiring her own handiwork.

“I feel… fantastic!” Her voice was a solid octave deeper than it was before. It was huskier, raspier, though she couldn’t tell whether the second part was because of all the screaming she must’ve gotten up to. She thanked her lucky stars—or, she supposed, her good luck charm—that the dressing room was soundproofed so Eleanor could warm up her voice before each show. Usually, she would’ve been mortified at the thought of being heard by all those people, but instead of clamming up and fixating on the worst… some part of her was… proud? At the notion. Like she wouldn’t mind being seen by all those people. “Hell, I feel like I could walk onstage right now and sweep Eleanor off her feet!”

“Wrowww~,” Spectre mused, “I really have rubbed off on mew then, hm?” Her eyes trailed down to Ceri’s bare chest, and further to where her dick was still halfway flopped out of her panties. Okay. Right. She at least retained the good sense to stop herself from running around naked.

“Maybe I’ll have a look around for some spare clothes in here first, ahah. I mean, It’s a dressing room, right?” She turned to look over her shoulder at the armoire in the corner of the room, and at the standing rack of a few pre-prepared outfits. “How hard could it be to find something that fits?”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just see myself meowt,” came Spectre’s voice from her other side. I’ve never been a purrponent of putting more clothes on.”

“Pssh, yeah, I could’ve guessed,” Ceri shot back, twisting around again. “How do you even manage to hide that massive—”

When she turned back, Spectre was already missing from the reflection, leaving nothing but a puff of sky-blue smoke and a faintly echoing, distinctly feline laugh.

“Well,” she said, directed at nothing in particular. “Thanks.”

With that, she started rummaging through the stage outfits. She found a larger size of her work uniform, but for some reason, she felt much less inclined to dress formal. She settled for a vest (worn open, so as to be less restrictive in both the literal and metaphorical sense), a pair of dress pants that was a size or two too big (because it was the closest thing she could find to a nice, loose pair of jeans), and a pair of glossy boots that reached up to her calves. She’d have to work on it—maybe take some pointers from the boys, given her larger frame—but it was a start.

Behind her, a poster on the wall was subtly different, featuring a certain cat instead of the star of a previous show at the lounge. She may have had at least one kind of hunger satisfied for the night, but Spectre still expected a show! All that was left now was to sit back and gloat about what a stellar wing-wraith she was.

Well, Eleanor was still singing out on the stage… she was sure she had time to clean out the kitchen first.

Hi!! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! If you want to see more of my work, you can check it out here and here!

[tigerwing-animal-hrt]

Cat HRT 0 Months

My alarm went off, blaring in my ear. I turned it off and got up, heading for the bathroom.

Sure, getting up at noon wasn’t exactly early, but it was for me. Thank you being a night shift employee for giving me a reason to be up the hours that actually work best for me.

I brushed my teeth and got ready for my appointment, being sure to make sure my partner was awake to take me. She was sitting up by the time I was ready.

“Are you ready for your appointment?” She asked, checking she had her wallet.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Here’s your keys.” I handed them to her and left the room, scooping small kittens out of the way before they got a chance to run in before my partner closed the bedroom door again.

The car ride was quiet, save for music playing as he drove. Until we got to the appointment.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked, gesturing towards the office of Dr. Erian as a woman with budding horns, fur, and a tail walked out.

“Yes, I am,” I responded, a bit shakily. “Is that… I think I know her.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“Yes, please…”

We got out, and she must have seen the nervous and startled look on my face. “Is this your first appointment?” She asked kindly, looking at the way I clutched my fiance’s hand to my chest.

“Yeah. I think I’ve seen you talking about your experiences… Josie?”

“Yeah, my name’s Josie. You look petrified. Don’t worry. The doctor can be difficult, but you’ll be fine. Take the leap. I think you’d be happy.”

“Thank you…” I looked up at her. “Thank you. I should get in there, don’t want to be late.”

“Of course not.” With that, she was heading away.

My fiance looked at me. “Do you know her?”

“Kind of, I’ve seen her talking about her transition. Now let’s go before I’m late.”

We walked up to the doors, and into the reception area. He went and sat down on a larger seat, likely one meant for a dragon or similar creature. He laid down as I spoke with the receptionist.

“Appointment for James… at 2pm.” I said.

“Alright, I have you right here. Fill this out and bring it back to me.”

I took it and went to go sit and fill it out. It was a basic questionnaire, asking about health problems, identity information, the works. I got to the information about species and paused before writing Domestic cat- Felis catus. Longhaired tortoiseshell variant.

I signed the waivers after skimming them, then took all the paperwork back to the receptionist.

“Can my fiance come with me?”

“Sure, but she’ll have to wait for a few minutes after you go back there.”

“Alright, I’ll let her know.”

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

“James?”

“Coming!” I got up, put my phone in my pocket, and walked to the nurse.

They led me through the doors and sat me in a room to take my blood pressure, pulse, temperature, ask me the usual safety questions. After I was done, the nurse got my fiance and we walked to the office of Dr T. H. Erian.

“Which one of you is the patient?”

My fiance pointed at me. “He is, I’m just moral support.”

I nodded and we both sat down opposite the doctor.

“I see you’re interested in becoming a… domestic cat?”

“Yes.” I gripped my fiance’s hand tightly under the desk, he squeezed back.

“And you’re a trans man?”

“Yes.”

“How unusual. Why a tortoiseshell? Those are always female, and you marked down male as your legal sex.”

“That’s complicated, doc.”

“I’d expect you to pick a coat pattern that you’d see on a male cat is all.”

“My answer won’t change.”

“Very well then, I’ll see what I can do. Have you been living as your preferred species for the last 48 months?”

“Yes, I have, doc.”

“Can you confirm this?” He turned to my fiance.

“Yes, yes I can.” He held up his arm, showing a faint line of scratches that were still healing. “This is because I gave him a bath yesterday.”

“Is that so? Hmm. I’ll need to develop the formula for you, but that shouldn’t take too long. Your prescription should be ready in about two weeks.”

“Thank you, doc.”

“You’ll need to make changes to your diet while taking this medication. More meat, less everything else. Read this pamphlet before you leave.” He handed me and my fiance both pamphlets about feline HRT. “Some things may differ in order and strength of effect, but all of this information will be relevant.”

“Am I the first trans man to be taking this?”

“Yes, and I’ll need you to log any and all effects to see how thins differ for you.”

“So he’s an experiment?” My fiance asked, standing and looking like she was half a step from hopping the desk and decking the doctor.

I put my hand on her arm. “It’s new and experimental. Someone has to be the first.”

“Exactly. Now. Any questions?”

“Will you call me when it’s ready?”

“Of course.”

“Will I be coming here to pick my prescription up, or will it be sent to the pharmacy?”

“I’ll send it to the pharmacy.”

“Alright, thank you. Oh, last question. Will it be an oral medicine, or an injection?”

“Oral is the usual route. Do you want injections?”

“Depends on if it tastes bad.”

“I’ve heard it isn’t too bad.”

I stood up, and my fiance and I left the office. I was shaking, nervous but excited.

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

I got the call that my prescription was ready, almost exactly two weeks later. I turned to my fiance, almost vibrating with excitement. “It’s ready!”

“Alright, get dressed, and let’s go.”

I scrambled to get ready, almost bouncing off the walls.

“Calm down, kitty. I know you’re excited.”

“But… but… but…”

“I know. Let’s go.”

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

My prescription was a bottle of small pills, enough for a month with instructions to take before bed each night.

“I wonder what happens if you take it during the day?” I showed them to my fiance.

“Feli- Felisterone?” Is that what it says?”

“Yeah.”

“Wonder what they taste like.”

“You’re not taking them, dear.”

“I know. I wasn’t going to.”

“Go play your game, dear.”

“Love you too.”

I made a post online about picking up my prescription, and a few comments on the timelines I saw, including the white tiger and a few others like Josie, since I’d met her briefly, telling her thank you in particular for giving me the push I needed. I commented on the king cobra guy’s, saying I was another transmasc on HRT. Same for the black arms timeline that crossed my dash shortly after.

I also commented on the slimes, werewolves, dragons, and bat that I saw afterwards. The lamias were neat- I asked to join a server about HRT.

I went to take a quick shower before my fiance gave me my testosterone shot and I settled in to play Farmer’s Life until it was time for my new medication.

My fiance handed me the pill bottle, my drink, and my stuffed animals.

“Here goes everything, I guess.” I took my first dose.

“Good boy.” She patted my head. “Do you feel any different?”

“No, but it’s only been a minute.”

“Still.” She tucked me in and then turned back to her game. “Night, kitty.”

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[caxycreations]

Do you like romance? Modern fantasy? Crime and consequence?

Check out my book, Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den, on Tumblr, Wattpad,or Ao3!

Tylvinian Tales is an anthology series centered around the city of Tylvin, capitol of the nation of Ferus on a world called Relan, populated by anthropomorphic beings called Sentients, which are made up of various species ranging from the most common and mundane all the way to the mythical and alien. The stories revolve around various lives, the impact they all have on one another, and the consequences they each create for the city they call home.

The first book in the series, The Wolf's Den, focuses on Ryder Trayson. Ryder is a Sentient Relanian Greatwolf who works as a freelance DJ. His greatest struggles for most of his life have been waking up in time to get to his job on the weekends and keeping his fridge stocked despite his appetites. But when a series of life-changing events shake up his world, he'll have to face a much darker side of both his city, and himself, all while trying to navigate the changing relationships around him.

Sound interesting? Then head on over to the chapter master post here on Tumblr, or read it on AO3 or Wattpad!

[strangeauthor]

why are you guys lying about hazbin's music being good. its hot garbage