#outcasted cat

[gourdlycatgen]

The outcasted runaway clan cat named Grasshopperdusk is a tortie amab unlabeled cat with a marbled tabby coat and a half white body. The pronouns this cat uses are it/it + neos. This cat has hairless, kinked fur and grey eyes. This cat loves twolegs, and hates patrolling. The cat is doting and overbearing. The cat wouldn't notice a dog coming too close. This cat has heavy scarring and a fat body. This cat will refuse to move on.

[forestanomaly]

Posting nice stuff I drawn this year untill I caught up with today, day five

Parallels between Hollyleaf and Feathertail live rent-free in my head. Both of them are tied to Crowfeather, both were or supposed to be a part of the prophecies that had gone wrong for them in some way. Both are half-clan kits. Both died sacrificing themselves to protect others.

[warriors-official-russian-art]

Jayfeather

“Dark River” | “Outcast“

[harriertail]

WARRIOR CATS: SHADOWSIGHT'S SOLITUDE (release date unknown)

[emimii]

hello aaaaaa i love your stuff its literally the cutest and i cannot stand it

I was wondering if you could do a jelly and jenny drawing or interaction... i hc they are like, friends w benefits bc they have been friends since forever and experimented n stuff, and still do sometimes, but in reality they are just good friends. Im curious to hear ab your hcs w them!

THANK U SM! ! it means a lot that u find my stuff cute <3

my personal hcs belowww

here is myyyyy jenny and jelly, ive always assumed they were like two middle aged ladies who hung out and gossiped together to me but i never thought abt the friends w benefits thing tbh, its totally possible though these kitty cats r FREAKY!!!

one big headcanon ive always had specifically for jenny was like, before moving on to training mice and roaches she was a previous jellicle protector/fighter type and probably taught munkustrap what he knows, i think it adds to the old gumbie cat as well bcuz hes singing abt his mentor!! the lady who taught him all he knows!!

i definitely think jelly and jenny have had a looooong friendship and frequently look back on their youth, probably telling stories to younger cats and kittens and a lot of them are crazy like “oh jenny my dear remember those days youd beat every tom in the scrapyard in an arm wrestle?” and jenny just giggles and is like “my…. that was so long ago ^^;”

i think personally if jenny is physical damage, jellylorum is psychological damage bcuz she’d be one of those aunties that r good at finding the best words to make you feel the worst sometimes but she has good intentions and tends to use it for good esp w jenny keeping her in check so like,,, power duo!!

[voiddesigns-wc]

have u done toadstep yett…

Baby faced…. When ever I think of him, I think of toadstools, so I give him white freckles like his mum :)

[cacw]

threw one million thoughts together. but there's always more

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

Satisfaction, the cat sent him. And then, sadness. The blade came down, and the link vanished.

[perpetualexistence]

Alley Cats AU: What Izzy Did

Ditzy Izzy was her first nickname.

She got it in elementary school. Her teachers would call her in from recess and she'd have to be dragged back to school each time. They put her in the front of the line every year when the school nurse held the listening test.

She kicked her legs as she tapped the headphones each time.

Listening wasn't her problem. Her problem was that her teachers never had enough to say.

Why bother listening to people who would go on and on and on about the same thing over and over when she got it on the first try? It was much more fun to play around. Learn from the trees instead. Let loose all that energy they were trying to stifle. Climb up and watch people. Much more fun to watch than to listen. She learned a lot that way.

No one else got it. They'd call her a ditz and move on.

It wasn't until she bit her first kid that her parents bothered to show up at school.

It wasn't her fault, of course. No matter how he tried to whine that he was just trying to get his ball back. She'd been playing a Warrior guarding the Moonstone. It wasn't fun always by herself, so she jumped at the chance to play when he approached. Then he tried to steal it away from her. What other choice did she have?

Her parents didn't see it that way. Which wasn't fair, because they never saw much of her anyways. They left her to be raised by her mom. Her real mom. The one who was actually grandma. She was too old to do much of anything besides watching her. But she was the one taking care of her while her parents were away and telling her to keep them being away the family secret. So grandma was Mom, her parents were Her Parents, her dad was That Guy (whoever he happened to be that week), and her mom was A Good Mom if Anyone Asked.

It led to the creation of Flee the Freak. Izzy chased, and they ran. She didn't see much difference between her laughter and their screaming. The other kids liked it a lot too. They must have. They never stopped playing.

Even when she wasn't chasing.

This continued into middle school. Same students, same games. But now there were more options. Electives were a thing now!

She chose marching band. It'd surely be the most fun. She'd get to walk around, make noise, AND no one would get mad at her for it? A bonus! Sure she had to do things like 'follow the sheet music'. And she did, because you can't really get kicked out of recess but you can get kicked out of band.

But there was still room for more excitement.

With a baton from cheerleading tryouts (their loss, she would have totally killed nationals), and a stolen lighter from her Dad of the Week, she had everything she needed.

One burned living room later, Izzy was starting to regret something for the first time in her life.

She didn't even know her mom could still scream that loud. Didn't know she could move that fast. So much still left in that frail body.

They were okay. The old woman made sure of that.

Until Izzy shared how fun it'd been to see her still have that fire in her. The same as the fire that had been around her.

That earned her a trip to fire setter school, to work that habit out of her.

Which. Was fine, she guessed.

They went on and on about how fire was bad. Which wasn't true, because fire wasn't good or bad. It just was, and wanted to do its best to keep going.

They tried to get at 'the root of her love for arson'. Asking so many personal questions and clearly fishing for answers. If they weren't going to respect her, then she wouldn't respect them.

Like always, no one ever wanted to listen to Izzy. Except this time they really could keep her forever if she didn't behave.

So, fine.

She could play at being normal.

Her sob story was about a family who didn't love her and a fire that did. How she longed to see the world burn because deep down she was just a sad, miserable angel.

They bought it. Hook, line, and sinker.

There were only two things she learned from that program:

How to rig a proper explosive.

She really loved acting.

And, then, finally high school hit.

Everything was new, and bright, and vast. She could lose herself here. Not that she would ever want to. Everything was different.

She didn't stick with the normal schtick for too long. Not that she couldn't have. She was an expert when she wanted to be. It'd just be for too long, be too boring.

Anything had to be better than boring.

Flee the Freak looked different this time. No more running and screaming. It was whispers, this time. From teens older and teens her age who knew her in middle school. The stories spread like fire.

Izzy, the feral. Izzy, the arsonist. Izzy, the psycho hosebeast.

She could laugh it off. She always did. Words only mean as much as you let them. She wouldn't let these words break her.

Wherever she went, conversation stopped. She'd fill up the void. She did enjoy going on and on, even if the looks on their faces meant no one else did. She'd throw herself into a group if no groups would let her in.

It was fun to see which response she'd get this time.

There were the ones who nodded along and squirmed the whole time.

The ones who talked without saying anything.

The ones who had the guts to say they didn't want her around to her face. Those she respected the most. They would bite with words to make her go away. Not that it'd ever work, but she appreciated their effort.

The worst ones were the polite ones. They had advice to grow up, be more mature.

Grow older? No, duh. Grow wiser? Every day. Grow up? Ha!

Izzy would make a perfect friend without doing that.

Despite popular belief, there was nothing wrong with Izzy.

She just wished that belief wasn't so popular.

But oh well, there wasn't much to be done about it. Not without changing. And she's not doing that.

If nothing new was happening outwards, then it was time to focus inwards.

She wanted to take up baton twirling again. Personally, she thought it'd be sick to be in the mascot costume juggling fire. REALLY get the crowds pumping.

Still, she needed more practice. Safer practice. She didn't want to ever see that look on her mom's face again.

So she found an alley behind the school.

It looked all nice and decrepit, only garbage to burn back here. That's what she assumed at least. Until she heard the voices coming from deeper in.

She followed the voices until she saw two people who she didn't think even knew each other. Eva and Noah. Noah and Eva. It made sense the more she talked and laughed and poked.

Their experiences showed in the ways their body spoke. She looked for tension first. That was the easiest to spot when Izzy joined a conversation. Disgusted and annoyed tense came hand to hand with other people.

Angry and scared and worried and trying to hide it tense? That one was new. They could hide it all they liked. Izzy always saw through everything.

It was just them here. Not really much of a group.

Not yet. She thought as she hatched a plan so great she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before.

She's always tried to jump into groups that were already together. Cliques formed quick if you weren't paying enough attention.

But these guys had been kicked out of their cliques. Lost to the wind without any purpose.

So why not give them one? These guys were outcasts from everyone else, just like she'd been for as long as she could remember. They got it. Or could get it. They just needed someone to show them the ropes to being a screwup! Might as well be her since they clearly weren't doing anything about it.

Izzy dubbed them all Alley Cats, and she was ecstatic to have a group of her own.

Even more so when their group grew.

<- What Eva Did | AU Masterpost | What Owen Did -> (Coming...eventually)

[loonarmuunar]

Can’t get over that one scene at the end of Outcast where Lionpaw is just drenched in blood. He’s just fighting and fighting and fighting. Hollypaw and Jaypaw frantically trying to clean him up, thinking it’s his blood. But it’s not. It’s not.

And then Eclipse comes along and forgets it

[bambinaax]

ashfoot

[gourdlycatgen]

The outcasted traveling caretaker named Crane is a charcoal amab cis cat with a ticked tabby coat and medium white spotting. The pronouns this cat uses are he/him/his. This cat has long, messy fur and blue-brown mixed eyes. This cat dislikes dogs, and hates storms. The cat is lovable and underbearing. The cat is terrified of mice. This cat has no scarring and a medium body. This cat is shunned in one place.

[jesteriisms]

That chief guy!!! been watching a lot of his videos recently and liking them a lot!!! He’s kinda got wet vibes too and that makes him very endearing.

[warriors-official-russian-art]

Purdy!!

“Outcast“,  chapter 15

[shallowbreeze]

Storm Clouds at Dusk

Storm Clouds at Dusk, more commonly known as Storm, is a dark gray tom.

[fromtheseventhhell]

George is so funny for writing Arya as an outcast and then immediately filling the North with her tethers as soon as she left