#so the stripes look fine but the paws.... less so

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

inspired by fence-time, here's the bear pride flag color picked from various sausage skins, because i had to spread my truth

[cosmal]

thinking about how remus lupin is definitely a thigh guy!!! he’s obsessed w your thighs and your legs and he loves laying his head in your lap just so he can kiss your thighs <3

this is super short but it's him.

comfy

summary — remus is obsessed with your thighs

content — fem!afab!reader x remus lupin

note — mal thighs and remus are too much. i also write this at work in like an hour if that's not completely obvious..i just wanted to write something tbh.

"Remus?" You hope he'll hear you for the third time — he doesn't.

You shake your legs where his head is sandwiched between them. He blinks slowly and turns his head to look up at you.

"Everything okay, dove?"

You're sitting down watching a movie with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who has his head between your thighs like he's never been more comfortable in his life. Of course, you're okay.

"Yeah," you hum. His breath just skims over the bare skin of your leg. You sigh. "Yeah, I was tryna talk to you."

"Sorry," he groans, turning half on his side, cheek smooshed into your leg. "Couldn't hear."

You snort. "Yeah, you had my legs around your ears."

Remus grins, all things shy but just as pretty. "Sorry, they're just really comfy."

You push tousled hair from his eyes. Only messed up in the first place because he was so far back between your legs. He sighs under your touch, turning his head to press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You shiver. "Remus." You try for stern, it comes out all pitched up and airy.

He kisses you again, more firmly than the last. "Sweetheart," he murmurs into your skin. His teasing sets an ache in your limbs.

He peppers his kisses higher, the smack of his lips becoming longer between each one. Wetter and less soft. He's trying to prove a point. When you try to squirm back, he wraps an arm around your calf to pin your leg down, sitting up on his elbow.

"Remus," you echo. He hums like he can't hear you. Like he's entirely distracted.

You tug his hair and he holds you closer. "Christ," he mumbles. You keen.

"Please..." You're not sure if you're begging for him to keep at it or pleading for him to stop. He takes it as he wants and starts to lick stripes across your flesh.

It starts to tickle, gasping through short giggles, you squirm some more. "Remus, stop!"

He shakes his head, mouth hovering above your skin, "Never."

A little breathless and a lot dazed, you paw at his shoulders to get him off you. "I- I can't," you gasp. "It tickles, please."

Pleased, Remus's lips pop from your skin, letting his bullying mouth slow down. He looks up at you, pupils wide, lips wet and swollen.

"M'sorry, lovely," he says, not sounding sorry at all.

"C'mere," you say, suddenly handsy for more. "Kiss me on my lips this time."

Remus crawls up on his elbows, careful of all things bruisable. He sighs like it's an inconvenience. "Do I have to?"

"No," you say, pulling your lips into a line and turning your head away.

He nudges your jaw with his nose, "Wait, I'm sorry. Come back." His hands set a cruel path up your sides, trying to tug you down the sofa. Prodding and poking you under your shirt like he's determined to rile you up some more.

"No," you shake your head, trying to stifle a pleased laugh. It doesn't work when he's pushing his hands under the wire of your bra.

"Please?" he almost begs, face too soft to be mad at him. "Let me kiss you."

You crumble, "FIne."

You let him kiss you and then some.

[adobe-outdesign]

can you review acara? i JUST learned they’re supposed to be aquatic, i don’t see it at all

Maybe I'm biased because I have one, but I've always really enjoyed Acaras. They're a completely abstract creature, to the point where it's hard to pin down what they even resemble the most.

The head is the most distinctive feature, as they sport two doubled-up ears and a pair of fur-covered horns (which are actually flexible). They also have no tails, which is something you don't see a lot when it comes to fantasy quadrupeds. Both their furless paws and ears match in color, making them pop and balancing the palette. (Pink's not my favorite accent color, but it at least makes sense here given that it's their skin.) Finally, their underbellies further break up the design, making for a nice-looking Neopet all around.

And as for the aquatic thing: those split ears used to a pair of fins, back when the Acara was still called the Tigren:

Even though you can't tell they're aquatic just by looking at them nowdays, I'd argue that they do still give off a diving mammal vibe. I think it's the furless paws combined with the the short fur—they're like the otters of the Neopet world (except not literally, because the Lutari is the otter of the Neopet world, but you get the idea). I also seem to recall that they use their horns to help them steer when diving, furthering their swimming capabilities.

And as for customization, the Acara came out on top, basically remaining unaltered except for a raised paw and a slightly less joyful expression. A lot of things got cleaned up, such as the horn structure and the feet being less weirdly shiny. The only downside is that I swear the heads got bigger, but otherwise I feel like the converted version is slightly better.

Favorite Colours:

Grey: I already spotlighted this one in my grey color review so I won't get into too much detail here, but the grey Acara is super pretty. The converted version is pretty standard (though the tears and eyebags at least make it extra sad), but the UC/styled version is perfect. I love the horns being flopped forward and how it's looking up while leaning forward, giving it a particularly pitiful look. The shading is also pretty nice as well.

Chocolate: I think what makes this one work is the amount of detail. I love the little white chocolate drizzle that accents the head, collar, back, and paws, with whipped cream on top and extra chocolate fudge on the back. What really makes it though are the waffle paws/ears and the horns, which are white chocolate with milk chocolate striping. The mostly brown palette is also lovely and high-contrast.

Plushie: You know what, I just think I like Acaras with stripes on their horns. I've always liked plushie Acaras for reasons similar to chocolate; the ears/paws have a nice pattern to them, and the striped patterns really pop due the use of aquamarine and yellow against the duller blue base. Both versions are fine; the converted version looks a bit less creepy, but it looses major points for having normal eyes instead of button eyes (especially because the button eyes accented the orange patch on the foreleg) and also loosing the stitching on its chest. Still, it's a nice-looking color all around.

BONUS: I have to give the pastel Acara a shout-out because it's the color of my Acara. :) They're not particularly fancy compared to the above colors, but the light green and yellow palette combined with the subtle pinkish shading really makes this one nice to look at.

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hellooooo! Halloween is approaching and I was thinking… how about a werewolf (but like can turn whenever) s/o (prefribly like male pronouns or gn) with Jason? Maybe Jason fixing his bf up after he got into a fight and like petting him and comforting him cause the bf though he had scared away Jason with his wolf and aggressivity? Like the scary kinda punk-ish and bad boy one type of boy? (I loved your punk girl x Jason btw! Soo cool!) sorry if it’s so detailed, feel free to refuse ofc!

this is pretty late lol but its 2.5k words so... It's written as gender neutral but the word boyfriend is used twice I think idk. Enjoy!

Violent In-laws--- Jason Grace/ Punk male or gn werewolf! reader

»»————-　★　————-««

Jason turned over, his mattress on the floor squeaking with protest. He pulled his pillow over his head and felt soft feathers billow out, vaguely registering that he must’ve torn it up in his sleep. He peeked out the window of the stone cabin and realized it was still dark out, meaning his pillow problem was for later. 

There was light rain on the roof but that wasn’t what had woken him, so he lay on his back for a moment, listening out for someone or something outside. 

Had Piper tried to cut bangs again instead of sleeping and messed them up again?

A scratchy sound, nails on chalkboard, came from the doorway. Jason sat up and felt around near the head of his bed, knocking over an empty cup and finding his glasses under a coffee stained paperback. 

His phone torch was as second later and he shuffled out of bed, his purple and gold doona cover twisted around his leg. When he managed to untangle it without face-planting onto the cold ground, he got to the door and opened it a little, peeking out into the soggy night and hoping it wasn’t a monster, because he was far too tired to fight. 

“Woof?”

Jason blinked into the empty space in front of him and then looked down at the shaggy figure on the ground. He frowned at you, but with concern, not anger. “You should be in bed, you’ve got cabin checks tomorrow, remember?”

“...Woof.”  

“Fine,” Jason relented quickly, and swung the door open. He shut it behind you and turned the little battery powered yellow lamp on by his bed that Leo had made when they found out there were no powerpoints in cabin one. “But we can’t stay up or-”

Then he saw the shining puddles on the ground, paw sized and dark red. 

“Hey,” Jason started, his stomach sinking quickly. “Are you okay?”  

He watched you sink down on the floor next to his bed and rest your head on your sticky paws with a whine, looking up guilty. “Woof?”

Jason ran to the bathroom and felt around until he grabbed the first aid kit, bringing it back to you with a glass of water as well. “Here, I’ll fix you up, just stay still so you don’t bleed out anymore. What happened? Did someone-”

He cut himself off when your tail went between your legs and sat down on his popped pillow instead, unzipping the red bag and pulling out rolls of bandages and a tube of antibiotic cream. “You can come up here, the ground’s cold. I have to wash the sheets tomorrow anyway, for cabin inspections.” 

When you stayed on the ground, looking up with big sad eyes, Jason rolled his own, and patted the spot next to him encouragingly. “Up.”

You hobbled over and then flopped down on the mattress with a little huff of pain. Jason winced at the sound and brought your paws onto his lap, dabbing them with a wad of gauze until there was less blood and he could dip more gauze into the water and clean the last of it off. “What happened?”

“I was just in the woods,” you muttered, sitting next to him with your forehead digging into his shoulder as he wiped your hands clean. “And then there was a pack of wolves. They chased me for a bit and got a few bites in, but I’m a lot bigger.”

“Are you okay?” Jason asked quietly, looking down at the ripped up black and gray striped long sleeve drenched in blood. He picked up some little scissors from teh first aid kit and cut off the sleeves at your shoulders. 

There were cuts from your fingers to your elbows. Jason began wrapping one of the bandages around your wrists, making his way up to the last deep scratch as you sighed. “I hid in Bunker 9 for a while until they left. Leo forgot to shut it again. Then I came here.”

“You shouldn’t have been out,” Jason shot back gently, tying off the bandage and putting one of those little clips on it. Then he started on your other arm, making sure to put enough pressure on. “What if it wasn’t wolves, what if it was harpy’s, or hellhounds, or, or what if it was something you couldn’t fight, and-”

He looked down at you, expecting an apology, but you were just staring up at him, dried blood smeared on your cheeks. Somehow you still had those soft dog-like eyes rimmed with eyeliner that made Jason’s chest feel tight and warm. You smiled a little, “but I’m okay.” 

“What if next time you’re not?” Jason argued, feeling his eyes prick at your stupidity. Didn’t you realize that just cause you could turn into a big flesh eating canine you could still get hurt, or worse? The woods were literally purposely stocked with monsters, and you acted like it was your playground. “What if something happens and I can’t fix it?”

You ducked your head, and Jason knew that if they still could, your ears would be flat against your head like they did when someone found you chewing on something you shouldn’t be. “Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t think that-”

“You never think,” Jason muttered grumpily, tying off the last bandage and picking up the smaller one for your hands. 

You smirked a little bit, sharp teeth revealed. “That’s why you love me.”

“Shut up,” Jason said. “I’m still angry at you.”

“Okay,” you said, resting your head back on his shoulders and closing your eyes with a little grin. Thank the gods, Jason couldn’t stay angry for very long when you were giving him the puppy eyes that everyone fell for, despite the fact you stomped around in doc martens and a studded belt everyday. 

Jason threaded the bandage through your fingers, layering it enough that it cut off the blood dripping down your palms until it was just white and no longer splotched with red. He pinned them into place and then kissed your hands gently, wondering if you’d fallen asleep. 

“Are you finished being angry?” you asked, opening one eye and sitting up properly, going to rub your eyes with your hands. 

Jason held them in place and squinted at you, chewing on the inside of his lip, a bad habit he’d been trying to break for a while. Then you leant forward a bit more than you needed to for just a conversation, “you shouldn’t do that.”

His resolve left his body once you tilted your head a little and he sighed, a smile creeping across his scarred mouth, “Oh yeah… why?” 

“Cause it’s my job,” you said, your words muffled by Jason’s lips. 

He bit down a grin and slid his hands around the back of your neck, careful not to yank on your safety pin earrings that were actually just normal safety pins. His eyes closed involuntarily and he sighed again into your mouth when you leant forward, pulling his face closer, bandaged hands on his jaw line. 

Jason parted his lips and felt his cheeks warm at the feeling of you so close, smelling like rain and blood and wet animal fur, bitten down nails coated in black polish scratching a little at his cheek bones while you pushed him back into his crumpled bedspread. You rolled over, holding Jason tightly and pressing your mouths together once more until you pulled away a fraction, “so… you’re not angry anymore?”  

“Nope,” Jason said, his hands fiddling with the tag of your band shirt. “Still angry.”

“What a shame, I guess I’ll have to give you a while to cool off,” you muttered, and pulled away with bright eyes and puffy lips. You sat up, shaking pillow feathers off yourself and began to stand, “seeya tomorrow, isn’t your sister visiting?” 

“Fine,” Jason huffed, grabbing at the edge of your shirt and chopped up long sleeve to pull you back while you stepped over him. “You win, ‘m not angry.”

“Pardon?”

Jason opened his mouth to speak louder and then caught sight of the grin on your face. He glared until you sunk back down onto the mattress opposite him and rested your bandaged hands over his, palms up. Jason brushed his fingertips along yours, “I just get worried, and you don’t seem to care that you get hurt, or that it stresses me out. We’ve had this conversation so many times and you keep getting into fights.” 

You stared up at him blankly, then your head drooped. You spoke like you were telling yourself off. “I started them.”

“What?”

“I started the fights…” You began to rub your face again and Jason tightened his grip on your arms, pulling them back down before you broke a scab and started bleeding again. “I was trying to… I…” You looked up, “I have to change everyday, I have to run around and bark and do all that stuff or I start to itch everywhere and it hurts so much. The quickest way to be okay is to just… attack something.”

He wiped a tear from your face and gulped, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Didn’t want to scare you.”

Jason pulled you forwards into a hug, hoping it was tight enough to push all of the bad feelings from you and make you feel better. “You do scare me, but only when you’re hurt… And when you sneak up behind me and grab my shoulders.”

“...But it’s funny.”

He pressed a finger to your mouth before you veered the conversation somewhere else. “Hey, hey, listen to me. You chase your tail and you chew on your own clothes to make them look more punk and you tried to bite your reflection yesterday, no offense, but you aren’t scary.” 

You squinted up at Jason, “should I be offended?” 

“Other people are scared of you, but not me. I promise.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Jason ducked a stray knife boomerang and followed the path past the campfire and the Infirmary, peering up at the lava wall already filled with hunters yeeting stray campers down into the foam mattresses that really didn’t do much.

He was about to go ask one of the less scary girls in silver where Thalia was when he heard her yell across the entire field. “JASON!”

“Thal’s,” he said, a smile on his face as the tall girl ran up, the immortal shimmering around her wavering in the sunlight. “You’re here!”

She ruffled up his spiky hair and then hugged him properly, lifting him off his feet easily, his face squashed into the spikes on her leather jacket. “Little brother, I missed you! And now we get to fight people together! We’re gonna stick around for a few days and I already-”

Thalia pushed him away and then to the side, an arrow loaded in her bow loaded in less than a second, the sharp tip lined up with your snout as you cocked your shaggy head at her, blinking slowly. 

Jason sighed, “I told you to give your hands a rest, you’re just gonna pop Will’s stitches!”

“Don’t worry,” Thalia said. She whistled, presumably to call her little white wolves over, and aimed her arrow at your chest while you stuck your pink tongue out at Jason, “I got it.” 

“Please don’t… this is my boyfriend.” 

Thalia lowered her bow and frowned with concern at him, like she was wondering if he was mentally okay. Considering how this looked, she had every reason too. Jason pushed her weapon out of the way a little and she slid her arrow back into her quiver when he walked up to you, “this is my sister, she won’t kill you.”

When you just blinked up at him and wagged your tail happily, Thalia gave Jason a strong side eye. “Uh, little brother-”

“Stop making me look like a furry,” Jason hissed through gritted teeth, nodding towards Thalia, who looked a second away from calling for help. He smirked, “or I’ll tell Lacey and Harley they can’t play fetch with you anymore.” 

You glared at him and folded your arms, which were still wrapped up in fresh bandages that Austin had done up a lot better than Jason ever could. To avoid chafing you had to wear a singlet, but you’d managed to make that look grunge with a black choker and ripped up jeans. You’d even put fingerless skeleton gloves on, but Jason wasn’t sure how safe that was for your injuries. “You’re no fun.”

Thalia made a choking sound, her face pale. 

“What?” Jason asked. Then he remembered not everyone was used to you. “Right, this is my boyfriend, he’s a son of Apollo, and Apollo’s the god of wolves or something.”

“Also, the Twilight movie came out the same week he had me,” you piped up with a shrug, silver earrings [of course, not real silver, Leo had found some sort of alternative in the boxes upon boxes in Bunker 9] shining like Thalia’s jacket as she stepped back, her bow slipping out of her shaking hand. 

You glanced at Jason, hands in your pockets, and rocked on the balls of your feet nervously. “Y’know I actually had to help Lou Ellen will this thing, I should probably head off-”

“I am so sorry,” Thalia said with wide blue eyes,

It was your turn to back away this time, and Jason stood there, thoroughly confused, until he too spotted the little pack of white wolves racing over to Thalia. Then he connected the dots.

You grabbed onto the sleeve of his teddy bear jacket and he figured your tail would be between your legs if you were to change back. 

“Did they-”

“Yup,” you hissed, fiddling with the bandages around your arms and watching as the wolves tracked circles around them and butted playfully against Thalia’s legs. “Yeah, it was these guys.”

Thalia blinked. “To be fair, I thought you were a hellhound. It was dark.”

You spun around and beamed at Jason, “I told you I was scary!”

»»————-　★　————-««

[naturepointstheway]

Cats OC: Hematite (Bombastrap child)

So this came into my head, inspired by the Bombastrap seen in the Zurich bootleg, especially during Moments of Happiness, as well as during Old Deuteronomy, when literally the only cat he touches like that (see gif below) is Bombalurina. So thank you Hadobastrap for inspiring this Bombastrap OC of mine.

First, some background for the inspiration: Hematite is a type of mineral that can be found in a special rock formation known as Banded Iron Formations, which have red and grey in them (the red being from iron oxide, and the grey from iron-rich minerals like hematite and magnetite), and are often found in alternating stripes. Kinda like, y'know, a tabby. And bless you Tumblr for giving me the PERFECT FUCKING GIF to show how I imagine Hematite to look like! (All I had to do was search silver tabby maine coon and boom. Presto, I am magical.)

Except I imagine her with comically large paws (thank you, Munk genes) and a bit slimmer (though I think that cat in the gif has her winter coat so that's pretty much exactly how she looks in winter.)

Anyway, here's some more thoughts I have on Hematite:

--Inherited Munk's tabby stripes with Bombalurina colours in general fur, with reddish fur on underbelly (so less white on the underbelly than the cat has in the gif above.)

--Inherited deep orange eyes with some specks of gray

--Loves water and can NOT be convinced to come inside already once she starts swimming (got that Maine Coon love of water!)

--Charming, stubborn, inquisitive

--Constantly asking questions, especially once she meets Mistoffelees and sees his magic

--She was a long pregnancy, taking 69 days (nice) (Cat pregnancies can be up to 72 days, so getting up on the longer end of the scale)

--Identifies as asexual biromantic, with some genderfluidity in there too (all pronouns are fine - he/she/they)

--Conceived very late in winter, so is a spring baby

--While not magical in the sense like Mistoffelees is, still has some affinity with water, especially in her sensitivity to knowing when a rainstorm is on its way

@catsheadcanons @real-reulbbr-band

[thebiscuiteternal]

This timeline with Baby!NMJ and older NHS is adorable. Does NHS get any time to paint or participate in his hobbies? It would be really cute if he did and Bby!NMJ tried to help.

What little time he gets to himself, he usually spends caring for the sect's falcons. Since falconry was a hobby his father also enjoyed, and they're useful for catching small game, it's generally seen as "acceptable." He would like to have a wider variety of birds, but decided as a child that he didn't want the headache of having to justify himself constantly. The falcons are good enough, and they all love him and shamelessly beg for petting and cuddles.

On very, very rare occasions (when he has a reasonable expectation of being left alone all day), he'll paint. He's not a master, but it's good enough that it would be readily apparent to a discerning eye that he could be a master with practice. He found even less time to do it when Mingjue was very bitty, but around 2ish years of age, he started having extra supplies on hand so Mingjue could make finger scribble "paintings" of his own. It's a bonding exercise for them.

(Mingjue will never be a painter-painter, but even as a teenager, he sometimes drags Huaisang off and pull out the supplies when he can tell his brother is on the verge of a stress breakdown.)

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

"Gege." Nie Mingjue said as he held up his paper between chubby little ink-stained hands. "Look."

Nie Huaisang looked up from his own work in progress and had to bite back a smile at the Serious Business scowl on his three-year-old brother's face. Affecting an air of gravitas to play along, he laid his brush aside and took the paper, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, now, let's see what you've got here, didi," he said as Nie Mingjue clambered over the edge of the table and into his lap. "It looks like... a sheep?"

"No!" Nie Mingjue protested with a huge grin.

"No? But it's so fluffy!"

"Issnot a sheep!"

"Alright, alright, let me think," Nie Huaisang said, tilting his head to 'examine' the scribble of ink at a new angle. He could tell already that some of Mingjue's brush swipes had clearly meant to be striping, which told him he was looking at, by his estimate, his brother's thirty-seventh tiger, but immediately getting the answer wasn't part of the game.

"Hmmmm... I see very large paws... is it a bear?"

"No! Issnot a bear!" Mingjue said, slapping his hands down on the desk.

He barely missed the painting Huaisang had been working on, leaving inky little handprints on the wood, but that was fine. It would hardly be the first time Huaisang had worked around his baby brother's enthusiastic contributions.

"Not a bear? Oh my, you've made this very hard!" Nie Huaisang said, poking Mingjue in the side and making him laugh. "I don't know if I can guess it!"

"You have to! You have to guess!"

"Well, I suppose if I have to..." He squinted at the scribble, chewing at his lower lip in intense pretend contemplation, which made Mingjue laugh more. "It's not a bunny..."

"No!"

"And it's not a deer..."

"No!" Mingjue crowed, grin so big it might split his face.

"Is it... Oh! Is it a tiger?"

"Yes! Issa tiger!" Mingjue cheered, throwing his hands up.

"It's a very clever tiger, pretending to be other creatures like that. Excellent work, didi," Nie Huaisang said, dropping a kiss on his baby brother's head. "Why don't we hang it up to dry, and then it can go live with your other tigers?"

"Okay," Mingjue said, letting Huaisang lower him to the floor so he could get up.

Just as Huaisang had finished pinning the paper to his drying rack, however, the door opened and Nie Zhen, one of the guard captains, entered. "Your presence is required in the main study," he said without so much as an honorific or a salute.

Nie Huaisang sighed inwardly, but kept his face neutral and gave Mingjue a gentle warning tap on the shoulder when it looked like his little brother was starting to puff up in anger. "I'm on my way."

Again, not so much as a nod as the captain left, and Mingjue stuck his tongue out at the door as it closed. "Ass."

"Didi. Where did you even hear that word?" Huaisang admonished, still with no actual heat, as he wrapped his brush and ink to keep them from drying out while they were gone.

Mingjue grinned up at him unrepentantly. "At the grounds," he said, obviously meaning the training areas.

Huaisang did sigh at that. "Of course you did. But don't go using that word where other people can hear it," he said offering a hand.

Mingjue took hold, still grinning, and they left the room to go find out what the vitally important thing he wasn't actually needed for was.

[pinkpoweredpunk]

---

[ATTACHED: A video. Blake is seen at the breakfast table, munching down on an omelet and some bacon while King is seen sitting off to the side, bathing in the early morning rays filtering through a nearby window.

There's a small snort, and Blake looks down to see a Tepig pawing at their feet with its tiny hoof. They freeze, and quickly drop the piece of bacon they'd been taking a bite out of before reaching down to scratch the little fire type between the ears.

"Morning to you too Iggy," they chuckle, and the piglet squeals, satisfied with the received affection before it darts back off to the living room. Blake has a half-smile on their face as they watch immediately engage in a play wrestle with Bianca’s Oshawott, but it drops when King gives them an unimpressed huff.

"What?" They turn to the Snivy, whisper-shouting. "I know it’s probably Lechonk or Grumpig meat, but I still don’t want him to see it!”

King gives a snort of her own, and Blake just rolls their eyes at her before going back to their breakfast. Not long after, you see Professor Juniper take the seat across from them, cup of coffee in her hand and a Minccino on her shoulder.

"Good morning Blake," she greets the young trainer after taking a sip from her mug. Minccino chitters, hopping down to go dust the corner of the table with its tail. "Sorry, you didn't want coffee too, did you?"

"Nah, it's fine, I'm not a coffee person," They raise a hand in polite decline.

“Alright,” Juniper nods, setting her mug down as she leans both arms on the table with this anticipated sparkle in her eyes. “So! You, Cheren, and Bianca all plan to set out soon?”

“Cheren suggested leaving around noon, so yeah,” they reply, stuffing another forkful of egg into their mouth.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pretty excited,” they say after they swallow, but don’t add anything more than that. You can tell there’s some kind of apprehension in their eyes, something they’re dancing around, trying to hide.

It’s clear Juniper’s picked up on it, too. She relaxes a little, continues to press. “This is your first time going on a journey, right?” Something about her tells you she might already know the answer to that question.

“U-uh, ye-yeah,” Blake answers, sounding a lot more uncertain than they should. They avoid her gaze, eyes trained on their food as they prod it around on their plate. “Dreamed about it ever since I was a kid. Getting out into the world, meeting all kinds of people and Pokémon, all that… always been something I’ve wanted to do.”

The young adult sounds less enthused and more like they’re repeating something off a script. Juniper quirks a brow as she raises her glass to her lips again, before closing her eyes contemplatively.

“Is that so?” she hums, tapping a finger casually against her arm. “Because, well… something tells me you already have.”

They stiffen, and the facade crumbles away right then and there like clay. A laugh bursts from the professor’s throat at their reaction, one she quickly feels guilty about as she covers her mouth, grin still poking out from behind her fingers. “Sorry, sorry, you’re not in any trouble,” she clarifies, recollecting herself. “It’s just that, I was sure I recognized you from somewhere when I returned to the lab yesterday.”

“Uh- um-” Blake fumbles over themself, looking like a Deerling in the headlights.

Juniper retrieves her phone from her pocket, tapping and whisking through tabs before she arrives at the search page she’d been on the night prior when her curiosity had been gnawing at her. She holds it up, showing Blake a picture of themself in their younger years. They quickly recognize it as a photo from one of their old interviews. There’s a noticeable difference- their warm pink hair is longer, tied back in a messy ponytail, they don the signature sword and shield of the Galarian Champion symbol on their striped uniform, and overall there’s this boisterous energy to them that they don’t seem to carry in present day. Besides that, though, the resemblance is uncanny.

Blake withdraws into themself, cringing at the photo, but Juniper simply keeps her calm composure in an attempt to reassure them.

“See, when I realized it was an ex-champion so mysteriously taking the place of my third dexholder, I was pretty confused.” She chuckles. “I thought maybe there’d been some kind of mixup. See, just before we met yesterday, I’d just gotten off a call from my actual third student saying something important came up and he had to withdraw from the project. Then I come home, and Bianca runs up to me saying you were here.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” They inquire.

“Well…” Juniper begins, thinking over her words. “If I’m being honest, at first I thought you were some kind of replacement one of my colleagues got ahold of on short notice, but quickly realized that couldn’t be the case. Then I saw you going along so willingly with this random project Bianca and Cheren just roped you into instead of trying to back out and say they’d gotten you mixed up with something else, and wondered if you might be in some kind of danger.”

“Besides,” she goes on, standing up before strolling across the kitchen floor to unhook a photo from a nearby wall. She looks down at it with a fondness in her eyes, before returning to the table and sliding it towards them. “You’re not as much of a stranger to me as you think.”

Perplexed, Blake looks over the framed photograph, and their mouth starts to hang open a little as the pieces start to click together in their head. It’s a photo of what looks like a class of young children, no older than six or seven, gathered around what looks to be a younger Professor Juniper. They quickly pick out Cheren and Bianca from the group of children and then- themself?

“That’s me,” they gawk, finger landing on the kid with long, messily braided caramel hair with a missing tooth and light blue overalls. “This was-”

“Your kindergarten class,” Juniper finishes for them. “The one my father held in this very building.”

Blake looks around, like it finally sets in for them that they recognize the architecture, even if it’s been remodeled into a lab. “But-” they turn back, glancing between the photo and the professor. “How’d you even recognize me?”

“I didn’t at first,” Juniper admits with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Pretty much everything about you’s changed- even your name. But I could never forget the face of my favorite student,” she adds the last part with a cheeky smile, reaching for her cup again. “You had a hard time fitting in with other kids, so you always went to me when you had a drawing you wanted to show off, or a story you wanted to tell. You certainly livened up the classroom.”

“That I do remember…” they say. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you, though. You were like, the one nice teacher I ever had.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to,” Juniper assured them. “You were six. Still, it’s nice to see you’re back in Nuvema again after all these years. If you don’t me asking, what exactly-”

“Wait!”

A shout from the kitchen’s entrance brings their conversation to a screeching halt. Rotom turns in tandem with the two humans it’d been recording before, allowing you to see Cheren and Bianca standing near the side of the archway leading out into the living room and main laboratory, the guilt of eavesdropping painted plainly on their faces. Well, Bianca’s anyway.

“Sorry professor,” the girl quickly apologized, shuffling into full view with her arms tucked close to her chest. “We couldn’t help but overhear and-”

“Blake,” Cheren cuts her off, shoving his way into the dining area with a start. “You’re a champion?!”

Blake flinches at his unusual increase in tone. “Uh, well, I- I was a few years ago.”

“No, no, not just any champion,” he blathers on, waving his hand about as he presses two fingers to the bridge of his glasses in exasperation. “The one that stopped the Dynamax crisis in Galar, and the terrorist group that tried to blow the entire Kalos region off the map?”

“The Darkest Day and the Ultimate Weapon,” they recall the disasters he’s referencing by name as they rub at the back of their neck, eyes averting to the back wall. “Yeah, those were both me. And my friends.”

“Woah…” Bianca’s eyes fill with awe as the full gravity of Blake’s past feats start to lay on her. “Blake… you’re not just a champion, you’re a hero!”

“Something of the sorts,” they mutter humbly, fidgeting with their glove.

“And you neglected to tell us this, why?” Cheren folds his arms, seeming much more cross about this revelation than amazed.

“It- it’s not something I just spring up randomly in conversation, you know,” Blake scoffs, growing more defensive by the minute. “That- that kinda stuff is sensitive…”

Noticing the tensions start to rise, Juniper quickly butts back in. “Now Cheren, calm down. I’m sure Blake wasn’t meaning to hide anything from us out of ill will. Besides, this is something to be excited about! With a trainer as experienced as Blake tagging along with you on your journey, you two are set for success!”

Cheren still seemed apprehensive, giving Blake this glare that was palpable with distrust. Bianca, on the other shared, shared Juniper’s optimism. “Yeah! Blake, you wouldn’t mind giving us pointers every now and then, would you? We’d love to learn from a trainer as strong as you!”

“Uh, sure,” Blake agreed without any reluctance, appearing a bit intimidated now that they seemed to be the highlight of the room, but open to the thought of acting as a mentor of sorts for the new trainers. “I’ll still have my own thing going on, though. I have King to train after all,” they reach over to give the Snivy in question a stroke on the head, which she leans into happily.

“Don’t you have other Pokémon?” Cheren asks. “Why are you bothering to go through the trouble of training a brand new one?”

“I have to admit, I’m curious as well…” Juniper says, but her statement seems to come more from a place of concern. “Are you starting over completely and building a new team from scratch?”

“Y-yeah, pretty much…” Blake confirms, hand resting on King’s back as she lays down in front of them for more pets. “All my other Pokémon are back home in Galar…”

“Why?”

The ex-champion bites their lip, shuffling in their seat a little. After a moment of hesitation, they decide it’s best to just come out with it all now rather than forging some flimsy excuse or topic change.

“My, um… my mom actually sent me here for school,” they explained, their eyes drawn on the faint leaf-like patterns in King’s hide rather than the faces of the three others in the room. “I’m supposed to be attending the university just down the road. It’s the one she went to when she was my age, apparently.”

They pause to draw in a deep breath, before releasing it in a heavy sigh. “I… really didn’t want to go. They don’t allow Pokémon there, and they’re a pretty… I dunno… strict place, I guess? So it’s all a bit too stuffy for me…”

Juniper frowns thoughtfully, tapping her finger once again as she gently urges them to continue, instead of instantly jumping to vilify them like one might’ve thought. “Why would your mother send you there of all places? It’s a very prestigious school, true, but it’s more suit for people who aren’t seeking a very Pokémon-related career. Lawyers, doctors, the like…”

“That’s probably the exact reason she picked it out,” Blake huffs, bitterness detectable in their tone. “She’s never been that… accepting of me being a trainer. She signed me up for all the art related stuff cause she insists she’s supporting my interests, but she knows I don’t wanna be a plain old graphic designer or- or whatever!”

“Then what do you want to be?” Cheren can’t help himself but ask.

“I don’t know!” Blake blurts out, throwing their hands up in exasperation. “I like art, sure, but it’s a hobby. I like Pokémon, adventuring and battling way more. Being a trainer was my only ambition as a kid… I just never figured out what was going to come after that.”

“Well, you became the champion, but clearly you gave that up,” Cheren noted as he leaned back against the wall behind him. “Usually that’s what most people who wanna be trainers aim for.”

“Yeah, but-” Blake sighed, plopping the side of their head into their hand. “I got overwhelmed with all the stress and expectations- eventually I realized it was the traveling and freedom I enjoyed the most. I don’t like staying in one place, I get antsy when things get… stagnant.”

“They do say that the journey is worth more than the destination,” Bianca chimes in, seeming like she’s coming to understand Blake’s point of view.

“So your solution was just… start over again and again until something finally clicked?” Cheren asked, more of an observation than a question. “Until you finally get bored?”

“I guess…” Blake mumbled, picking up their fork again to resume their now slightly cold breakfast. You can tell there’s something more on their mind, one last little detail their clinging close and safely to their chest. “It’s a bit more complicated than that…”

“A-anyways,” they continue, dismissing their previous statement. “My mom, she- she says I have no sense of direction in life. She thinks my love of Pokémon is- distracting me or something.”

“Well that can’t be true,” says Bianca, a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes for the older trainer. “You know what you want to do. You like traveling!”

“Yeah, but I guess she doesn’t want me to just- wander the world aimlessly forever…” they grumble, cheek squished against their hand.

It’s clear Cheren and Bianca aren’t sure what else to say. This situation seems to run layers deep, more than just a tiny disagreement between mother and child. They look to Juniper for an answer, but the professor seems quite deep in thought herself, pondering over Blake’s story so far.

“I know what you’re probably thinking,” Blake begins after swallowing another bite of their omelet. “Even if I don’t like it, it’s the responsible thing to just go back to the school and attend my classes like I’m supposed to… if you want me to go back, I will, I just-” they pause, face crinkling a little like they’re expecting the response they’re describing. “…I was desperate for an out, and when you said all that stuff about going on a journey and filling the Pokédex I just- it got me excited.”

“Honestly, I thought I was ready to hang up my adventure gear,” they huff sadly. “I… made a lot of good memories running around Kalos and Galar with my friends, sure, but I… also saw some… pretty messed up things. But- I think that was just the fear holding me back. Yesterday, when I saw King taking on that Tranquill like it was nothing- it brought the thrill back. It reminded me of what I loved so much about being a trainer.”

They stroke King’s back a bit more slowly now, almost in a way that makes you think they expect to lose her soon. The Snivy trills when she senses the shift in her trainer’s demeanor, raising her head to gaze up at them.

“Now hold on, Blake,” Juniper stands up from her seat, placing a hand on her hip. “I never said anything about telling you to pack it up and go home.”

Blake’s lips part a bit in surprise, and they straighten themself in their seat, anxious for whatever the Professor has to say.

“Objectively, sure, you may have been doing something pretty irresponsible,” She says, giving a stern nod of acknowledgement. But, it’s quickly followed by a lighthearted smile. “But- I don’t need to think twice about it to know there’s no one better fit to be on the Pokédex project than you. If the N.U wants you back, they’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands.”

Pushing her chair in, she continues. “I have a few acquaintances over at the university- I can vouch for you and get you signed up for online courses instead. That way, you’ll still be able to fulfill your mother’s wishes and get out there and explore to your hearts’ content.”

Blake’s expression quickly transforms into a gawk of utter disbelief, and they stumble up from their seat to follow her as she leaves to retrieve something from the other room, leaving their forgotten plate of unfinished omelet behind. “W-wait, you’re serious?”

Cheren and Bianca exchange a hopeful look, and follow along as well.

“Of course I am,” Juniper affirms, walking over to a desk where she begins to tap away at a computer currently stationed there. “You have a Rotom phone, right? It’ll be a lot more convenient to have the regional Pokédex uploaded onto it instead of just giving you a physical one.”

After pressing a few buttons, and waiting for a loading screen to finish, she plucks a hard drive from one of the slots on the monitor and turns to drop it into Blake’s hand. “Here, let your Rotom download this onto its database. It should be compatible with the latest version of the Pokédex app, but if you experience anything glitchy or buggy, let me know and I’ll get it sorted out with the app developer in Paldea.”

“A-alright,” Blake picks the hard drive up between their fingers, before turning and holding it out to Rotom. The electric ghost accepts it excitedly, levitating the hard drive over with an electromagnetic pulse. You hear a click, and the footage is briefly interrupted by a pop up that says “New data for the Unova Region Pokédex successfully installed.”

The pop up disappears, and you see Blake’s face light up before they turn back to Juniper. “Oh my gosh, I can’t thank you enough professor, I promise I’ll-”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Juniper chuckles, placing a hand on their shoulder. “With you, Cheren, and Bianca all working together, I’m sure the pages of that ‘dex will fill up in no time.”

“Yeah!” Bianca agrees, her and Cheren coming up to stand beside Blake. “We’re gonna be traveling all over, so we’ll have more than enough time to fill it out!”

“We’ll all probably be taking our own individual paths, too,” Cheren adds. “So we don’t have to worry about missing any place along the way, either.”

“Yep! Remember, this’ll be a team effort,” Juniper nods as she reminds the three. “But- I also want you to do this for more than just the Pokédex. It’s not just different Pokémon you’ll find out there in the big wide world- you’ll encounter all sorts of different people and places, too. Different ideas, different backgrounds, different histories, different ways of life… it’s my hope that you’ll take in all of it, and approach whatever you come across with an open mind and willingness to learn. And I hope that whatever knowledge you get out of the experiences waiting for you, it helps carries you onward to whatever dream or ambition you seek to achieve.”

The three trainers nod in unison, silently letting the professor’s inspiring speech sink in for a moment. Cheren stands confident and self-assured, with a look in his eyes that tells you he’s known for a long time what he’s after. Bianca’s eyes brim with hope and excitement, like she’s never been more ready for anything in her life. Blake is more steady, with something reminiscent of nostalgia lingering on their features. They’ve probably heard a speech akin to this one before, during their earliest days as a trainer, and they take Juniper’s words in stride.

“With all that said…” Juniper finally continues, clapping her hands together. “Are you all ready to hit the road? It’s almost noon.”

“Oh!” Bianca jumps, and quickly scurries off in the direction of the loft. “I still have more stuff to pack!”

“Hold on, let me help you,” Cheren sighs as he tails after her. “You can’t just throw everything in, you’ve gotta pack it all neatly so it’ll fit!”

Blake gives a chuckle at their antics, shaking their head a little as they turn back to the professor. “Thank you again for giving me a chance,” they say, voice sincere with gratitude. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”

“I trust you’ll achieve great things out there,” Juniper tells them confidently. “Well, besides the great things you’ve already accomplished, anyway. Oh, and Blake?”

“Yeah?”

“Feel free to come talk to me whenever you like. I’ll be doing a bit of traveling myself to keep track of your guys’ progress- don’t worry, I won’t be all up in your business- but I’ll never be far if you or the others ever need me.”

Once again, Blake is surprised by the professor’s generosity- but they return the kind offer with an understanding smile. Lifting King onto their shoulder, they give the Snivy one last scritch before turning to go get their own things in order for travel. Rotom whirs, shutting off its camera to follow after them, bringing the video to a close.]

———

[wcphasesofthemoon]

After Sunrise

Note: Got sad last year thinking about Firestar at the end of Sunrise, and the one-two punch of Worst News Ever he got. This angsty piece came of it. Obv spoilers for Sunrise, and cw for descriptions of a panic attack. I'll prob touch this up and make it an epilogue of PotM's Po3 companion book.

Firestar hadn’t run so fast since he was young. He’d walked inland with his Clan, but once they were on a safe route to camp, he just needed out. 

The wind sliced him like claws, cutting through his pelt, but he didn’t care about the cold. His blood, his heart, his insides couldn’t get any colder.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears and the wind forced them back. He felt like he was being suffocated. He knew slowing down and resting may help, but he just couldn’t stand to be looked at any longer.

His claws were unsheathed, kicking up a spray of soil clumps with each stride. He was nearing a tree. At last, he skidded to a halt, so hard his pads were rubbed raw, and he reared up on his hind legs. Then, with a broken cry, he scored his claws through the bark. Holding tight, he sank down, down, down, until he was on his belly in a panting, pitiful heap. A squirrel skittered overhead.

Firestar’s stomach lurched with the sudden urge to vomit.

Someone approached. Frankly, Firestar didn’t care who it was.

“There you are.” Sandstorm. Her voice was hoarse. Firestar should have comforted her. Tears welled in his eyes.

“I-I…” What could he say? I’m sorry? I’m all right? I don’t know what to do?

I can’t do this, Sandstorm?

Sandstorm got closer.

“Come here,” she cooed, like a mother to her kit, and drew him to her chest with a foreleg. Firestar curled against her without hesitation.

“How could I have been so stupid?” he whimpered into her soft fur. “Hollyleaf, she– I– I can’t–” He was soothed into silence by Sandstorm’s shushing.

“Hey. It’s going to be just fine,” she murmured, licking the top of his head as he sank into her warmth. “Just breathe.”

And so, Firestar did. He leaned against his mate for long minutes, trying to get his breathing under control. The urge to cry and the urge to be sick still burned similarly in his throat, but at least he could breathe.

“Firestar!” 

Wearily, Firestar lifted his head, and Sandstorm rested a steadying paw on his back. Lionblaze and Jayfeather were rushing towards them.

“It’s all right, boys,” Sandstorm murmured. “Firestar isn’t angry with you. He just needed some air.”

“It’s not just that,” Jayfeather choked out. “W-We followed Hollyleaf when she ran off. She was trying to hunt to blow off some steam, or to prove herself still worthy as a warrior, or something, that mousebrain–” He sniffled violently, reaching up to smear the tears cascading down his striped face. “She chased a squirrel into the tunnels, and…!” His voice faltered, and his trembling legs gave out, making him collapse beside his similarly-shaking brother.

“She’s dead,” Lionblaze croaked, hollow golden eyes fixed on the ground, which seemed to dip under Firestar’s body. “There was a collapse, and… we couldn’t save her.”

Sandstorm sucked in a breath. “Hollyleaf…!” she cried.

Firestar scrambled to his paws, stumbling backwards and away from the others as he shook his head. “No… no…! Hollyleaf!!” Great StarClan, anything but this!

His teary eyes turned to the sky, as if searching for Hollyleaf there, so he could reach out and pull her back down into his embrace, to tell her that it would be all right, that he didn’t love her any less, to please don’t go–

“Holly–” He jolted as he felt Sandstorm bury her face into his heaving chest, whether to comfort him or herself he wasn’t sure. Firestar just kept looking upwards, his jaws slightly agape and tears finally soaking his cheek fur.

“Oh, Firestar,” Sandstorm sobbed. 

Firestar collapsed in the next moment, legs buckling and chin catching between her shoulderblades as he went down. Weak. He was so weak.

“Sandstorm,” Firestar wept, unable to look away from his grieving grandsons, even though he didn’t want them to see him in such a state. It was humiliating, and it wasn’t going to comfort them in the slightest to see their leader crumbling. He reached up, clinging to Sandstorm with his forepaws. “Sandstorm…!”

He dropped his head, curling in on himself, shying away from everything as sick bubbled in his throat again. Sandstorm said something, reaching out to wipe the tears from his face, but he couldn’t make out what it was. No, he could only hear the yowls of fury and pain from his granddaughter. His heart began to pound again, and Firestar shook his head wildly. He gasped, then gagged, then arched his back with the force of vomiting on the forest floor. Sandstorm’s expression filled with horror.

“Oh, StarClan,” she murmured, reaching up to paw at his back again. Firestar let her. “It’s all right. Just let it out, darling.”

“Sandstorm…” Now everything hurt. His head, his chest, his paws, his stomach… “Sandstorm,” he gasped more urgently, his green eyes, wide and frightened, searching her face. “She– She’s…!”

Hollyleaf could have died thinking he hated her. 

“Shh.” Sandstorm wiped his tears away again. “I know. I know.” She crawled over to embrace him again.

Firestar’s heart pounded faster and faster. He feared it might burst.

“She’s gone,” he sobbed. “I never got to–”

“She wasn’t angry with you, Firestar. You didn’t know. She knew you didn’t know.”

Firestar knew it was true, but his brain still buzzed with what-ifs.

“I never got to tell her that… That I still love her…!”

“She knew.” Sandstorm’s own body shook with sobs, but she still held him tight. “She knew, all right? How could you have known? How could any of us have known? You’re still her grandfather. Her leader. Her hero.”

Firestar sobbed. His paw pads felt clammy, his whole body cold, and no matter how tightly he curled up, he couldn’t get warm. “She knew,” he tried to tell himself, repeating Sandstorm’s words. “She knew I loved her.” He dropped his head onto his forepaws, sobbing again.

“She knew,” Sandstorm agreed.

“She…” His throat tightened more, and fresh tears gathered in his stinging eyes. His chest shuddered once more as the reality of Hollyleaf’s death threatened to crush him once more. “She can’t be gone,” he whispered, and Sandstorm stared down at him with her own face streaked with tears. She sniffled, licking his forehead.

“Firestar.” She rested her forehead against his. “She’s not far away. She’s hunting with StarClan now.”

“She’s– She’s not–” Firestar tried to repeat her assurance, squeezing her eyes shut as he tried to think of Hollyleaf happy and strong and beautiful, hunting in the skies forever, and not as the fluffy black kit he’d never get to hold again.

“She’s not far away. Never too far,” Sandstorm repeated, nuzzling him deeply. 

At last, Firestar seemed to come back to his body. He nuzzled his mate back, purring to comfort her, before slowly lifting his head. “Lionblaze, Jayfeather… Things are going to be different now, but you still have your grandmother and I. We still love you both so much. That hasn’t changed, so, please… Keep loving us the same.”

Lionblaze stared at him with glassy eyes, before nodding. “Of course. Of course, Grandpa. We still love you guys,” he assured the leader, staggering into the embrace of his grandparents. Firestar put a foreleg around his neck, savoring his warmth. Jayfeather hesitated, still wiping furiously at his eyes, until Firestar beckoned him over with his tail.

“Jayfeather?”

Jayfeather looked up, and could no longer hold back from rushing into the hug. “Of course I still love you, Grandpa,” he murmured, his face completely hidden in Sandstorm’s soft fur. “You too, Grandma.”

“I know, my sweet,” Sandstorm sighed, her purr thick with tears. “I know.”

[cynocardia]

ID in alt text (though minimized to be less obtrusive to screenreader users, i crammed so much detail into these, the full ids are under the cut)

i had to put them together

full ID for 1: ref sheet for a tan and white anthro belgian tervuren with orange eyes, tall floppy ears, long fur, and an atrophied, saggy face, wearing a yellow turtleneck, grey coat with a silver shield shaped pin on the lapel, brown pants with horizontal stripes and a belt and dress shoes, using a red forearm crutch. "sasha maera, they/them, 30 years old, belgian tervuren, contract negotiator/enforcer. irritable, elegant, supercilious, gentle, thin-skinned, begrudgingly subservient. loves bugs, poetry, and painting." the rest are appearance details. there is a headshot of them from the right side to show off their decayed teeth and the way their bangs and mane fall around their face, and information about their body type: lanky, underweight, fluffy head and neck but smooth everywhere else, and their face is atrophied and wrinkled. they have hypertropia in their right eye, which is lazy. they have human hands and mostly human teeth, and many moles. detail: "still has puppy ears, fwuffy wuffy puppy, (closeup of pin: lowercase cursive red D whose tail swings into a heart, racketeering meat shield pin!/company loyalty/"honorary member of the family" pin, always worn when working). coat is not fur, it's lint, also it can be grey or brown (for me it's grey brown). random moles all over hands and arms. bangs are pushed back but easily fall out of place. (eye for colorpicking.) white on throat can be just their throat, their entire neck, or patterned like a cervical spine. markings by eyes always resemble tree roots. uses forearm crutch on right side only (open wide cuff). human hands, no paw pads. (paw foot drawn) feetsies. legs usually scissored. 5'8/5'9 (usually hunched over, with or without crutch). muscle atrophy head to toe. long with long fingers. no top surgery. right cheek is visibly hollower than left. dissociated vertical deviation in right eye. left eye "normal", still visually impaired. (cropped example of sasha facing left). please see face ref. please." end ID

full ID for 2: ref sheet for vincent morgan, a fat anthro black and white siberian husky with purple eyes, splotches over his eyes, a torn left ear, stubble, and messy combed over bangs, seen twice: once wearing a collared shirt, coat with a tie under the lapels, pants with vertical stripes, and dress shoes, all in shades of black, and the second without coat and tie. writing says "vincent morgan, he/him, 30 years old, siberian husky, data entry/unlicensed P.I. apathetic, reclusive, tired (right arrow) irritable, scrupulous, egocentric. likes his cat, old maid, and johnny cash. 5'5, fat, short arms and legs, no top surgery, fluffy double coat, wolf-like, trad goth." "vincent" is strikethrough. details: "collar usually popped, takes tie off after work and stuffs it under his coat lapels. sunken eyes, dark circles, heavy eyelids (ptosis). eye splotches are meant to look like the eye holes of a skull, but any splatter pattern is fine. splotches by eye and nose can be small or big. bangs meticulously maintained and arranged. prematurely greying. stubble solely around mouth and on chin. yellow teeth, coffee stained. mostly human teeth. sharp tooth is a broken human tooth. silver cuff links (not that important). tail is short, bushy, and wolf-like. it curls at the end when he's happy. tail tip is white. left ear is torn in the middle almost all the way. it has nerve damage and is resistant to movement. he usually only moves his right ear because of this. right wrist: wristwatch. memento mori. always worn. he literally forgets to take it off before bed even."

end ID

[warriorssurvivalandstuff]

My Omori catify nonsense.

Aubrey, Basil, Mari Hero, Sunny, Kel

Aubrey: Black amber tortie Basil: Fawn calico Mari: Black smoke Hero: Chocolate golden marbled tabby Sunny: Black with low white Kel: Red classic tabby, minimal white

Design notes (extremely long, image heavy, and fancy cat patterns heavy) and concepts under cut.

Aubrey is based off non-agouti (genetically solid) black amber, made tortoiseshell. Amber is a trait in the Norwegian Forest breed which causes most of the cat to change colour from black/browns to a red/orangish colour starting at around three months old. Using this to drastically change her look somewhat suitably for the timeskip, because just using hair dye is boring. As for why tortoiseshell, she gets associated with fire a lot and for "scars/wounds", which the red splotches are styled to resemble, meant to give her a tough look. There might be something in how they're less distinct post-colour change. The red end of her tail vaguely resembles Basil's. Stripes on the tail curve towards the tip like flames. For non-colour features, she has spiky lines and ear tufts. The tufts are red for the fire look. Maybe I should've just gone with orange eyes instead of yellow but I wanted to them all to have different colours, and Kel had to get orange. Yellow works fine enough for fire and is the cartoon star colour, starry eyed in (more) youth.

Onto Basil, he's a fawn calico, fawn, cream, and white. Cream is an obvious choice to match his blond hair, while the fawn is meant to resemble dead moss as a mirror to his headspace design, and I did just basically copy his hair over directly. Not too pleased with it. Dewclaws and the bottom of his paws are also free of white for green thumbs/muddy look. The fawn end of his tail vaguely resembles Aubrey's as said above. Also fun fact, tortoiseshell/calico cats cannot be AMAB without some sort of mutation or chimerism. While I did not mistake him for a girl, a ton of people did so I thought I'd carry it over here. Broken mackerel stripes for the tendrils his Something has, and his tail stripes slant towards the tip like leaf venation. The high degree of white was mostly to not have mottling (look, I try to go for as much realism as I can), it was just about the generic bicolour pattern until I thought to spike up the flank region as Something's teeth and to stick a daisy above his left eye. His fur is arranged to look like a perpetually soaked creature, and his ear tufts also droop. Some fur on his back curls like dicot sprouts and his weird hair tufts.

Kel gets two designs as well, not because of some colour change shenanigans, but my indecision. One is chocolate tortoiseshell classic tabby and the other forgoes the chocolate, being just red classic tabby. The mix of brown and orange evokes orange joe, more brown above since it looks like espresso floats on orange juice and like a tan, and I did mistake him for a girl at first. But I wanted to have Aubrey and Basil match in being the only torties, as a sibling theme (headcanon). Classic tabby for the signature bullseye pattern, ballin'. Being tortoiseshell also allows me to draw actual basketballs on him, even if I only did it for the flank one. Honestly the rest of the tortie mottling is just random, not planning on replicating them accurately ever. He has very small amounts of white, the toes and locket. It's meant to reflect his jersey and sneakers' white patterns. His line style/fur tufts are round like his hair.

As for Hero, he is a chocolate golden marbled tabby. Golden because he's the golden child. If Kel is tortoiseshell, they match by being chocolate. Marbled tabby allows me to crudely draw roses with nigh 0 reproducibility plus rosettes, instead of just rosetted tabby. The roses are on his flank and one upright on his foreleg. It is also classic tabby with the Bengal modifier, so he and Kel match here, tortie or not. His fur tufts come in threes, like his hair. Crimson chin when stylised.

Sunny is very basic for his colours, just a solid black with (unusual) white spotting. Mewo dictated he and Mari be black cats. His white is placed more deliberately, a cloud on the head, collar and socks that reflect his clothing, and the rest completes the tuxedo look. The fact that his muzzle and collar line up to look like Something was unplanned but welcome. His eyes are sun coloured. Based his build off of Oriental Shorthairs for the scrawniness. The end of his tail splits into two tufts to reflect his weird hair tufts.

Last but not least, Mari who is a black smoke. Like Sunny, she is solid black. It's got the ghostly quality and when tabby stripes are visible on smokes, they're called ghost markings. She has those on her face, very unsubtly music staff with two semiquaver notes. The gene that causes smoke in solid cats turns tabbies into silver tabbies, so she is in a way, silver, matching Hero's golden. Her fur style is smoke/vapour, the ghostly quality again. She also has the Oriental headshape to match Sunny. I considered having her be silver shaded instead for the white dress spirit Mari is pictured in but that would make her and Sunny look very different. Included as an alt, anyway.

All of them together. The base here (and above) is by Reevees on DA.

Old concepting headshots, dates a few years back. They have the different versions of Kel and Aubrey. Sunny and Mari are kept just about the same, while the others have more notable changes.

Headspace full designs will come in some time... three years? Dunno. Hero's palette will change completely.

Old line styling test, only Aubrey, Basil, and Sunny. Older and young.

[wispofwillow]

Prompt 2: Bark

FFXIV Write 2023

Aerith (the cat) surveyed the length of her domain - well, one of her domains - stretching out her front paws with a yawn and a contented purr. This particular domain consisted of a cramped but neat greenhouse (a sunny glass palace with innumerable shady leaves and places for good jumping, with comfortable cushions just for her, as she saw it), striped through now with late afternoon shadow. And, of course, it also included the tall not-cat within, who knelt now (sadly - knees were less good for kneading and for curling up into balls of napping fluff on top of) by the wood table at the back of the room. 

At least the not-cat (though, confusingly, a not-cat with ears and a tail - grey, not like Aerith's bright white, vibrant orange, and sleek black) was awake and here this time. And this was part of Aerith's contentment as she stretched again, whiskers pointing forward as her back arched, and stood up on her shelf cushion (marked of course with layers of her fur). Aerith did not quite know what she meant by her not-cat (Wisp was what they were called by other not-cats, though the sounds meant little to Aerith) being not-here, even when sitting in that same spot they occupied now, head bent over some things or other that Aerith was not allowed in - but she knew when it happened and she did not like it. Especially when the not-here times came close together. 

Just to be extra sure, Aerith threaded her way through and around the potted plants and trays of seedlings with surprising grace for such a round creature, headed with determination towards her Wisp. With a noisy thunk and an accompanying mmrp? (it would not do to go unannounced - well, at least not when she wanted attention), Aerith jumped down off the last shelf, back up onto the table, and waddled her way between the trays off moss and sheets of (oh! crinkly!) paper, to plop onto her behind just in front of the not-cat. They did not have that stiff not-fur layer on their face right now, so it was easier to look up to meet their eyes and see themselves reflected back. "Mrrp? Rrrawr."

Wisp made a credible (if non-sensical - not-cats were so silly) imitation of Aerith's greeting back to her, and offered a hand for Aerith to sniff. Aerith did so, politely (earth smell, like always, honey…sadly not the fish treats), before ramming her head into that hand. The mossy softness that not all not-cats seemed to have made a nice cushion against her face. But, lately, there was a hardness under that moss, like the bark that Aerith scratched on in climbing (illicit! Not allowed, but fun) outside that was nice for scratchy chin rubs, but not as much for accidental hurts in head bonks, so it needed to be approach with caution. Today, though, it did not seem bad, and Aerith could see the extra relaxation in the expression on Wisp's face that meant a purr.

Good. Her not-cat was doing well. She had done her job. 

Nevertheless, she remained for several more minutes for appropriate pets and chin-scratching (a good reward, and Wisp did not always allow her to sit here, if there were that shiny glass, or that crystal that made her fur bristle - or sometimes sharp-smelling plants), before hopping down again, to walk the length of her domain. 

Here and there she stopped for a sniff, or to set her paws in soft dirt (but not to pee, for apparently this was discouraged by stern noises from the not-cat, except in the separate box with softer sand that was set aside just for this, which was fine). Interesting smells abounded - dog, for one, and the other not-cats - the one that smelled of batter and butter, one that smelled…dustier?, others that also smelled of dirt and earth, but different dirt. All familiar smells. 

Except…

A strange smell…no, not a smell…

Aerith paused in her rolling perimeter of the room, fur lifting, nose to the air, pointed toward the wood-framed door that led to the outside of the little glass house. Something…No, not a smell…but a-

Bark. Bark bark bark!

Aerith dropped flat, ears twitching, little round tail poofing out to the size of a Moogle pom.

Dog! With its loud dog language.

Wait…a familiar bark, a familiar dog. She sneezed, readiness to attack or run easing just as a little excited whining whimper, followed but the snuffle of a nose at the door crack, reached her ears. It was not until the quick rhythmic tap at the door, also a familiar pattern, that Aerith heard her not-cat look up and shift in those swishy robes. Wisp called some kind of greeting, and Aerith dutifully trotted forward to receive the requisite licks from the blur of tan fur and curled, violent fan of a tail that burst in almost before Wisp finished speaking. Despite the excessive bathing (tolerated, one should not say enjoyed), Aerith pointed her whiskers forward: a small price to pay for the warmth of the cuddles offered by the Dog (Gidget was what the not-cats seemed to call her) when she finally wore herself out (how did dogs have so much sprint in them? And so much energy just in their tails). 

Properly enjoyed were the surprisingly gentle head and chin rubbing offered by the not-cat that followed Gidget, calling a cheerful greeting back to their own not-cat. For a creature with such long ears and such energy himself - and such a boisterous companion as Gidget - this not-cat was exceedingly good with cat language. 

Well…mostly properly enjoyed. But it was hard to sink even into well-applied chin scratches with that sense of - not a smell, but something…off. Wrong. Like food gone off. Not entirely familiar, but not entirely strange, either. Coming from somewhere out that door.

Aerith looked up as the long-eared not-cat moved past her at the faint, scarcely-heard whine from Gidget. Whining again, the dog looked at her - it was a Look, even across species.

Something out there was not right.

Aerith (with a curiosity said by some to be dangerously native to her kind) wanted to know what it was.

[zyonji]

This painting got a fun story I didn't reveal on any other site I posted this on. There's a bunch of inspirations I listed in other posts, one of them being lost-paw, while being vague about how exactly one of their in stream commissions influenced this. So, let me tell the story!

If you've only seen the paintings I make or even the art I commission for myself, then this might surprise you: Lost-paw's drawings on those streams cater to a horny audience. Even though sexual content doesn't excite me, I also don't mind it, so I took a commission slot on a whim.

As a side note, I asked for my hyena to be draw, a character I based on myself. You might call 'em my fursona if you want. I tried to make 'em as much like myself as I could, aside of them being a striped hyena and also having more feminine features. Though no boobs. As mentioned earlier, sexual content doesn't get me horny, so I never payed those features any mind.

Now, back to the stream. My commission is up next. That meant I described what I was looking for in PMs and sent my references. Then the unexpected question. What about the bits? What's up down there? A question I had no answer for. It truly made me panic as I tried to figure out an answer. And that's ultimately the "design elements" I canonized from that commission. Being put on the spot in the moment made me realize that it's fine to not fully fit the norm. That slight hint of an outline of a dick doesn't make 'em any less feminine. Instead it just adds a bit of visible lived history.

[primroseprime2019]

2132: Homecoming- Ch 1: Life in Angel City

The tall and short buildings glowed with almost bioluminescent lights. Mist rolled along the grounds. The sky was a light bluish-purple.

A motorcycle drove down the road. The motorcyclist wore a black jacket and wore a dark blue helmet. They rode down the street, past silver, black and white cars.

There were people walking along the sidewalks. The motorcyclist slowed down at a red light and they turned their head towards a man who stood near the stop sign. The man had a grey coat and a brown fedora. But what truly made the man stand out was the robotic dog next to him.

It had red and orange plating and bright golden optics. It looked a little rusty at the paws.

The motorcyclist looked back at the stoplight just as it turned green and they continued their ride to their destination.

"Remember, no one is truly free without the rule of law in Angel City," a man said on the screen.

The motorcyclist slowed to a stop by a large building and they took off their helmet. The woman had porcelain skin, light brown hair with raven black strands and light brown eyes.

She got off her motorcycle and walked into the building.

There were a few people. Most of them having robots. Or androids.

Robots, androids, whatever they would be called, it never really mattered to the government and their leaders.

The only phrase people started using for them was CyberDogs.

"Hey, Sky!" A man said and the woman looked at him. He had light ivory skin and grey eyes. He had brown hair that had silver strands. He wore a shirt.

"Hey Cloud," Sky said as she picked up a bag and set it down on the counter. "Aw, another load today?" Cloud asked with a pout.

Sky nodded as she smiled, "yes." Cloud huffed as he lifted his robotic arm. It was silver and black.

Sky hummed softly and she looked over at one of the customers. They had a cyberdog standing next to them.

Cloud followed her gaze and he chuckled. "When are you gonna get one of your own?" He asked.

Sky huffed, "never. And you know I don't like having someone who just wants to obey every command you give them. It's uncomfortable and it's irritating."

Cloud sighed, "you and your kindhearted morals. But I guess that's just you. So-" "Why am I not allowed to schedule an appointment?! I'm 20!" A voice said and Cloud and Sky looked to see a twenty year old boy glaring at an employee.

Next to his feet was a cyberdog. It was grey with white stripes and had green eyes.

"That's correct. But to schedule an appointment for your android, you have to be older," the employee said calmly.

"This is ridiculous! I can't schedule an appointment because I'm some kid still! And my parents can because they're working for Echo! What am I supposed to do?"

"You can call your parents or you can get a new cyberdog," the employee said. "No!" The man snapped, slamming his hands on the counter, "if you were reasonable enough, you would let me schedule an appointment; not spend thousands on another-!"

"Come on, man," Sky sighed, grabbing the man's arm, "leave the guy alone. Let's go."

The man yanked his arm out of her grip. "Get your hands off me!" He snarled, "I don't know you so I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Sky narrowed her eyes before she closed them, took a deep breath and let it out. "There are three security cameras in this lobby; one for the security here, one for the City's police station... one leading directly to Echo. They could all easily arrive here in less than five seconds. Arrest you, take you in for questioning, confiscate your belongings- including your CyberDog- and kill you. Why won't you come with me again?"

People stared at the two. Cloud raised his eyebrows in amusement.

The boy looked around before he sighed deeply, "okay. Fine." He looked at the bot, "come on, Axel."

Axel looked up at Sky before he followed his companion out the door. Cloud looked at Sky, "well that was interesting."

"I'm not letting another person die due to their own actions," she said before she walked towards the door. Cloud watched her, "oh Sky?"

She stopped and turned to him. "Be careful," he said.

She stared at him before she nodded and walked out of the store. She walked over to her motorcycle and climbed onto it.

She started the engine and she started driving. She drove down the road as she tuned out everything else. Suddenly there was a distant explosion.

Sky skidded to a halt and widened her eyes in shock as she saw smoke rising from one of the buildings.

"And then it just ends there," a nineteen year old girl said as she laid on a couch. The girl had chestnut skin, raven black hair and light brown eyes.

"The explosion?" A woman asked. The girl nodded, "I just stared at it. Or... is it really me? Is it Sky?"

"Paige," the woman said as she set down the pen, "Sky is merely a part of your dream. The real Sky...,"she trailed off and looked out the window. Paige sat up and followed her gaze.

There was a statue of the same woman from Paige's dream. "It's been nineteen years and Echo still hasn't taken down that statue," the woman muttered.

Paige looked at her. "Doctor Ayla, can you... tell me what she was like?" She asked carefully. Doctor Ayla looked at her and shifted her gaze towards the camera.

"I think it's time we put this session to a close for now," she said, smiling at Paige. The girl frowned a little but nodded.

"Let me know if you have another dream again," Doctor Ayla said as Paige walked out of the room. She nodded again and watched as the door closed before she walked out of the office.

She sighed as she pressed her hands against her face in exhaustion.

'Another session... another useless session,' she thought bitterly. She walked over to the stop sign just as an orange and black motorcycle rolled over.

A nineteen year old boy looked at her. He had auburn and dirty brown hair and dark blue eyes. "Hey. You ready?" He asked.

"Always am, Gregory," she said and she climbed onto the motorcycle behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I'm gonna run a few errands then we'll head back home," he said. "Mmkay," she nodded.

He revved the engine before he started to drive down the road. In Angel City, people were bustling in the streets. Some people with their cyber dogs.

Gregory drove down the road on his motorcycle, Paige driving behind him. The two drove to Cloud's Shop and slowed to a stop by the curb.

"I'm heading inside," Gregory said, taking off his helmet and he looked at Paige, "you coming?" "Nah," she replied, waving her hand, "I think I'm gonna look around the neighborhood for a bit."

Gregory chuckled but nodded before he got up, slinging a sack over his shoulder and he walked to the door. Paige looked around before she saw a crowd a few yards away.

She got up from her motorcycle and walked over to the crowd. She pushed through the crowd and saw two Cyberdogs fighting.

She frowned as she knew what this was as she had seen it every time she or one of her siblings were at Cloud's workshop or just passing by.

Although it wasn't unusual for people to use their Cyberdogs in fighting, it was really annoying to some as the Cyberdogs often cost a lot of money for repairs.

'Thank goodness I don't have a Cyberdog', Paige thought and she walked away.

She walked to a cafe.

The door opened and she walked in. It looked busy and Paige sighed softly as she walked over to the counter.

"Hey, Paige," a woman said as she cleaned a cup. She had porcelain skin, dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. Her hair was tied into a bun and she was wearing a waitress outfit. "Hey, Evelyn," she replied with a small smile.

Evelyn set down a cup of coffee in front of her and she smiled. "It's on the house, kiddo," she chuckled. Paige smiled, "you're too good to me!"

Evelyn laughed as she went to the back. Paige smiled as she sipped her coffee and she looked around for a moment before she saw the tv.

She watched curiously.

"In other news, Cyber Robotics is keen on making new CyberDogs for protection!" The newscaster said with a smile, "I'm here with Doctor Spark."

Sitting on the other side of the table was a thirty year old woman. She had ivory skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore a white work dress and purple heels.

"So I understand this project is authorized by Echo?" The newscaster asked curiously. Doctor Spark nodded, "yes. She's very adamant about it; CyberDogs are best suited for not only protection and security, but for good company. Much like the CyberBots."

"Is that what we're calling them now?" A man muttered to another. Paige stared at the tv. Suddenly she didn't feel hungry.

Taking out whatever money she had, she set it on the counter and walked out of the coffee shop. She rubbed her temples and looked around for Gregory.

She sighed before she stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked to the store. She paused in mid-step when a can rolled out past her feet and she looked into the alleyway.

She widened her eyes when she saw a nineteen year old boy sitting in the corner. He looked at her with piercing blue eyes.

"Go away," he snarled.

[redux-iterum]

A Kindling: Chapter Twenty-Two

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Dodge him!” Bluestar barked.

Firepaw blinked stupidly and tried to shake himself awake, muscles complaining as he struggled to his feet. One heartbeat he had been in his nest, and every beat after that had him somewhere new— dragging himself along after his mentor, then stumbling into the training hollow. Now he was being knocked around by Greypaw. His eyes were too bleary to see through and a single step took every ounce of the dearth of energy in his body.

He blinked again, fiercer, finally able to make out his friend standing across from him. Greypaw didn’t look much better off, but he was standing straight and his yellow eyes were open and focused. That was the only clear part of him; his stripes spun and melted together with the lighter grey parts of his pelt.

“Firepaw!”

He turned his head towards Bluestar’s voice, but stars help him if he could see her properly. Her own yellow eyes were much less friendly.

“You need to focus,” she said sharply.

“Sorry…” Firepaw mumbled, and shook himself again. It didn’t help. “I’m tired, is all…”

“You had plenty of rest this morning, didn’t you?” Bluestar’s blurry tail lashed. “Wake yourself up and dodge him.”

Firepaw looked to Greypaw, who had now crouched, ready to charge again. His own tail was stiff and low, and his ears folded back nervously. Firepaw tried to prepare himself to leap to the side, leaning towards the right. Hesitantly, Greypaw jumped forward, but even at his most careful, he bowled Firepaw over and sent the little tom rolling backwards (though still to the right).

“Firepaw!”

He didn’t get back up immediately—he had to pull himself from the welcome soft sand, still warm from the recently-set sun and soothing his tired and aching body. Greypaw approached, perhaps to help, but he jerked back and quickly cowed before an approaching, angry Bluestar.

“What are you doing?” she snapped. “I told you to dodge him. You didn’t even try!”

“Did,” Firepaw mumbled. With great effort, he got up and looked at his leader. “The walk took a lot out of me, I think, and—”

Bluestar’s paw shot up for silence. “Greypaw and Ravenpaw made that walk with you, and they’re doing just fine. You slept throughout the rest of the day and part of tonight. I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

Firepaw searched for something helpful to say—an apology, a positive remark, a promise to do better. What came out of his mouth was the exact opposite of that.

“Well, you’re getting them,” he said. “I’m tired. I can’t help it.”

Bluestar’s eyes flared. She loomed over her apprentice, tail lashing hard enough to blur out of his vision. “You need to remember who you’re speaking to.”

“I remember,” Firepaw said, much more calmly than he felt. “But I don’t think you’re being fair, that’s all. I’m not Greypaw or Ravenpaw. I’m me, and I need more rest than them, I guess.”

Out of the corner of his eye, the other cats in the hollow were all staring at the mentor-apprentice pair. He couldn’t focus on their faces, but he could guess they were all a lot more nervous than he was.

Bluestar’s teeth bared themselves in his face. “You are out of line.”

Firepaw’s eyes squinted a little on reflex, but he forced them back open to stare the leader down. “I’m sorry I’m making a good point that you don’t like.”

Ravenpaw gasped quietly somewhere to his left.

Bluestar snarled. Firepaw met her eyes, not in challenge, but in observation—and then he realized it, clear as the blue sky.

She was embarrassed of him.

And that stung more than any strike across the face she could have given him.

A lump formed in his throat and his stomach rolled nauseously. He searched her eyes, silently pleading that he made a mistake seeing that, and she was only angry…

No. Embarrassment. Regret, even. Regret of what? That she’d brought him in? Let him argue with her?

Firepaw’s stomach urged him to be sick.

When Bluestar spoke next, it was in a low, threatening growl. “If you’re going to do so poorly in fighting, perhaps you should hunt instead.” She lifted her head out of his face and jerked a nod a little backwards. “Go. Don’t come back to camp until you’ve caught something.”

“Bluestar, can’t he—” Greypaw moved forward again, only to flinch back when her glare turned on him.

Surprisingly, Ravenpaw lifted a paw and said meekly, “M-maybe we can hunt too?”

Bluestar turned his way now and he cowered. Whitecloud stepped up to him and gently placed a paw on his back.

The leader, tall and bristling to twice her size, glowered at Firepaw. “I said go.”

Firepaw’s eyes fell. Silently, paws and tail dragging, he walked past her, not looking at Lionface, Whitecloud, Ravenpaw, or Greypaw. The ferns brushing against his pelt hardly registered to him.

It was still fairly early in the night, the moon barely a claw’s width and the stars glittering cheerfully where the foliage didn’t block the sky. Firepaw glanced up at them once, but lifting his head too high made him dizzy, so he stuck to focusing on what was in front of him.

It was tempting to wait until he couldn’t hear or smell the cats in the hollow before finding a spot, curling up and sleeping his emotions and weariness away. Very tempting. But Firepaw shook his head aggressively and stalked on. He was going to catch something, no matter how long it took. Otherwise, he wasn’t allowed back in camp.

Not that I haven’t broken a rule before…

His nose, at least, was kind to him, sharp enough to catch the trail of a mouse. Firepaw crouched to stalk and instantly regretted it—his sleepiness caught up with him and tried to pull him onto his side for rest. He forced himself, hard as it was, to crawl forward. He barely made a few steps before his paw crunched down on a twig and the unseen mouse scuttled away, twitching a few blades of grass as it went.

Firepaw sighed and shut his eyes. He sensed this was going to be a pattern. With great difficulty, he stood and kept moving, nose in the air and sniffing away.

On any other normal night, the air would feel crisp and bring his feet a little bit of dancing energy. The soft soil would delight him with its rich scent, and the soft rustles of leaves and ferns would ignite his senses like nothing else. As it was, he was cold, his feet were damp and slightly muddy, and he could barely pay attention to anything going on around him, let alone enjoy it all.

Again, he scented prey—a mole this time—and again, he only had to take a step or two forward before he ruined the hunt, now by scraping the ground with his tail. The mole was gone before he could blink. He shut his eyes again, tighter, willing himself to be positive and focus.

Time seemed to halt in its tracks as he continued, finding and scaring away more prey than he could count. Cold breezes nipped at his ears and nose, his feet weren’t even lifting off the ground anymore, and his tail collected mud. There was no point in trying to make out details in the bark of trees or individual leaves; he was seeing blobs of colors now. His mind had the barest of clarity, allowing him small snippets of thoughts here and there. Otherwise, he might as well have been in a dream.

Who knew how much time passed before a stray tree-root snagged Firepaw’s front paw. He couldn’t react in time to save himself, so he fell forward, landing on his chest. He didn’t have it in him anymore to stand back up. Instead, he sank the rest of the way onto his side, head half in the moist earth, and shut his eyes.

He’d be back up in a moment…

 “Honeymouse?”

Firepaw cracked open an eye, turning his head ever-so-slightly to a golden form above him. His mind woke up now, and his vision cleared enough to make out Goldenflower’s worried face.

He raised his head up and squinted—it was much brighter than it had been a moment ago. He was confused, to be sure, but he remembered to be pleasant. “Hi, Goldenflower.”

The matriarch sniffed at the side of his head that had been on the ground. “Oh, stars, you’re all muddy. How long have you been lying here?”

“Um…” Firepaw squinted harder, thinking. “What time is it now?”

“Almost dawn.”

“Then, uh…when it was dark, I guess.” He yawned, stretched, and slowly stood up, much easier this time. “I was too tired to keep track of time.”

“You little thing…” Goldenflower’s massive paw gently brushed away the scrapes of soil on his face, though some was stuck to his fur. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back. Bluestar told me what happened, and…” Her amber eyes narrowed just a bit, but it was enough to completely change the tone of her face—Firepaw suddenly had the urge to back away from her paw. “We had a conversation.” Her eyes softened again, the change reversed. “I hurried to find you, but it still took me a while. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh.” Firepaw blinked and looked around. It was most certainly almost dawn—the sky was turning gold in the distance and the forest was yellow and night-sky-blue in a striped pattern of light and shadow. “Thank you for coming for me, but… I don’t think I can go home yet. I didn’t catch anything.”

Goldenflower shook her head. “That’s all forgotten. You’re free to come back whenever you want.” There was a slight pause before she softly added, “And I’ll stay out here with you if you’re not ready.”

The change to kindness from anger and morose failure to hunt was a little drastic for a still-waking Firepaw. He took a moment to absorb it, and another to shake himself. This time it definitely woke him up. Refreshed again (to some degree, at least), he looked up at Goldenflower and blinked gratefully.

“I can come back now, I think,” he said. “If Bluestar’s okay with it.”

“She will be,” Goldenflower replied sweetly, “whether she likes it or not. But here, hold on, let me dust you off.”

She gave Firepaw no time to argue—in a heartbeat, she was circling the apprentice, gently pawing the right side of his body as free of the soil as he could be. Some of the wetter parts had clumped up stray clumps of hair, but she did quite a good job, leaving him mostly presentable.

“There.” Her eyes crinkled, pleased with herself. “That will do for now. Let’s get you home.”

“Bluestar really said I can come back?” Firepaw asked as they turned and started in the direction of camp.

Goldenflower nodded.

“Huh.” Firepaw looked ahead, considering. “She was really mad at me. But I guess it’s fair. I made her look bad in front of everyone else.”

“You didn’t do anything, love,” Goldenflower said firmly. “Your friends told me exactly what happened. She should have handled that better.”

Firepaw was thankful for her support, but the image of Bluestar’s embarrassment in her eyes made him reconsider going home. It was ice in his belly, the kind that would make him sick if he’d eaten recently. His head and tail lowered in shame.  

Goldenflower noticed and gave his ear a lick. “You won’t be in trouble when we return, I promise. I made sure of that. Let’s get a meal in you and you can keep resting in your den.”

“Thanks,” Firepaw said quietly. “I don’t know if I’m still that tired, though. It’d be better than talking to Bluestar, I guess, but… I don’t think I should avoid that.” As he spoke, he raised up his chin a little and looked to Goldenflower. “That’d be wrong, right? To just not talk.”

Goldenflower looked down at him with great affection. “You two will talk, I’m sure. But it’s very late, and most of the Clan is heading to bed by now. You just need to eat and rest again.”

That didn’t really answer his question, but Firepaw let it go for now. He just walked alongside her, her maternal aura soothing him.

The pair made it back to camp without incident. When they entered, several cats looked up expectantly… and a little nervously? Odd. Firepaw nodded to them and they relaxed a little, though they still eyed Goldenflower apprehensively. The matriarch did not acknowledge them; she simply returned to the nursery, where Brindleface was waiting outside of the den. Firepaw watched as Brindleface almost skittered away from Goldenflower, who acknowledged her with a pleasant “thank you” before sitting back down in her usual place.

Firepaw didn’t have more time to ponder this—Redtail was approaching, flanked by Lionface and Whitecloud. He quickly stood straight, self-conscious of his dirty coat.

“You alright, chrii?” Redtail asked quietly, lowering his head to Firepaw’s eye-level.

“Oh…” Firepaw nodded quickly. “Yes, thank you. I-I didn’t catch anything, if Bluestar…” He paused and looked around. “Where is she?”

“Our guest wanted to speak with her,” Whitecloud said. “She’s been in her den since then.”

Firepaw glanced at the hag’s spot. Sure enough, she wasn’t there.

“Where’ve you been?” Lionface peered at Firepaw, sniffing. “You’re half-mud.”

Sheepishly, Firepaw looked up at the toms with his head low. “I, um, might have fallen asleep out there.”

Lionface snorted and Whitecloud gave him a sympathetic blink. Redtail shook his head disappointedly. Firepaw feared that he’d made a mistake before the deputy spoke.

“We should have given you the night off,” he sighed. “I’m glad Goldenflower found you. She was insistent on doing it herself.” He grimaced. “I’d be surprised if Bluestar showed up again tonight after that whole thing.”

“Well, it’s over now.” Whitecloud nodded to Firepaw. “You must be hungry. There’s a mole on the prey-pile. I hear you like those.”

“I do!” Firepaw perked up, paused, and then asked, “Am I allowed to eat, Redtail?”

“Go ahead,” Redtail said, sounding amused.

Firepaw bobbed his head to each tom before trotting off to snag his prey. He still didn’t feel very hungry, but it had been dusk since he’d eaten, and he knew he needed something. He took the mole and moved a little away to make room for others before sitting down and eating. The mole tasted like nothing, though the chewy feet brought some small comfort.

After his meal, he silently picked himself up and went straight for the apprentices’ den without speaking to any of the few cats left outside. Greypaw and Ravenpaw looked to be asleep when he came in, but Ravenpaw lifted his head when Firepaw’s shadow crossed him.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “We were worried, you were gone for so long.”

“I’m alright.” Firepaw bumped heads with his friend. “I just fell over and went to sleep out there. I think I’ll continue now, if I can.”

“Oh, good.” Ravenpaw sagged a little with relief. “Well, I guess we can talk tomorrow, then. Sleep well. I mean, keep sleeping well, I guess.”

“You too.” Firepaw moved past him to his nest with a tail-flick. Ravenpaw curled up again as Firepaw flopped into his moss-bed.

He didn’t expect that he would be tired enough earlier, but the comfort of being home and having a meal soon shut his eyes and relaxed his heartbeat. Still, he went in and out between sleeping and waking, hardly thinking clearly enough to tell the difference between the two.

[kimistorm]

[Lee Minho] Cats are the Worst

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Lee Know/Lee Minho x GN! reader

Requested by: AvatarKyarra

Prompts: 6) “That wasn’t supposed to happen” and 9) “Don’t freak out”

Word count: 1.7k

TW: Mentions of food

AN: Lol <1k was a bit of a lie apparently. Anywho, thank you for the request! Sorry if the writing feels a little clunky/repetitive TwT BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, Hyunjin is back!!

“I don’t know, do you think he’ll like it?” you asked your phone that was on speakerphone as you scrolled through the list of recipes on your screen.

You heard an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line, “of course he’s going to love it. You’re his significant other.”

“Yeah, but he’s not that fond of sweets,” you bit your lip and ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

Han let out another groan from your hesitance, at this point, he was probably more frustrated than you, “have you seen him with Felix makes brownies?”

“Okay, but Felix’s brownies can make anyone melt.” You bit back in response as you thought to the cheery blond’s sweets. They always made you feel better, even after a rough day.

“He’s going to love anything you make him,” Han told you with finality, though this would be the fifth time he’s told you this. “But the more time you waste doing this the less time you have to make it.”

You snorted, knowing Han also had streaks of indecisiveness, “when did you become decisive?”

“Since you spent nearly an hour going in circles with me.” You let out a yelp of surprise, not realizing how much time had already passed. “Just make cookies! They’re going to be faster than a cake.” Your black-haired friend quickly told you, hoping to take this opportunity to give you a decision.

“Okay, okay, thank you!” you hurriedly clicked on the recipe with the highest rating and number of reviews.

“It’ll be amazing!” Han rushed to tell you as you fumbled with your phone to hang up.

“Thanks Han! If we have any extra I’ll bring you some!”

“Go, go go!” Han cheered before hanging up. With a determined nod, you ran around your shared kitchen for the ingredients. You frowned when you couldn’t find any more chocolate chips, Minho must’ve eaten them because you could’ve sworn you had some last week. It looks like you’ll have to change your plan and make sugar cookies. You found a simple recipe that allowed for decorating and decided that you’d decorate them. That’d be a cute gesture, right?

With clumsy precision, you measured out the ingredients and mixed them together to form the dough. You frowned as the recipe called to chill the dough for a couple of hours. You weren’t going to have time for that, so you’d have to skip that step and hope things still turned out all right. With the use of a couple of spoons and a butterknife, you were able to scoop out some relatively flat cookies onto the baking tray and pop them into the oven. It was a shame you couldn’t find the cat-shaped cookie cutters that you thought Felix gave you for Christmas, but they were very lost. Now that you think about it, you weren’t sure if you saw them since the day he gave them to you.

It was with a sinking heart when you realized you would have to wait for the cookies to cool before you could ice them. “It’ll be okay, right?” you worriedly mumbled as you glanced at your phone to see how much longer you had until Minho came home and the timer telling you that it would be close. Letting out a somewhat panicked but quiet, “aaaaaa,” you set to cleaning up the bowls and utensils you had used to make the dough. In no time they were on the drying rack and you grabbed a smaller bowl to make the icing.

You fished through to the back of your pantry for the somewhat old bag of powdered sugar that you used to decorate pancakes with and then never used again. You were glad to see it was still powdery and usable. You were measuring out the powder for the icing when a light body made its way to your side.

“Hey Doongie,” you cooed as you pet the cat who leaped onto the counter for some affection. “We’re going to make your dad cookies, what do you think?” dark eyes blinked at you lazily. “Ah, maybe that’s what I get for trying to talk to cats.” You sniggered when you got no response. You turned around to check the next steps of the recipe, but quickly spun around in fear when you heard the hollow ‘thunk’ of something plastic falling to the ground and an indignant ‘meow.’

“Oh no!” you panicked when you saw Doongie sitting cleanly on the counter where you left the white cat, but there was no bowl of powdered sugar. That was spilled on the ground. “Why’d you do that?” you wailed at the cat who you swore was smirking at you. You grew even more scared when you saw the disturbed flour on the ground. It was thrown all over the place and you saw pawprints leading out from the mess. “You didn’t!” you scolded as you followed the trail of white pawprints, already fearing for the mess that was being tracked all over your apartment.

Thanks to the visible trail, you were able to find the victim hidden in one of the cat houses perched on a scratching post. “You wanna come out?” you cooed to the cat enshrouded in darkness. You needed to see the damage that was done. Two eyes seemed to stare back at you from the darkness, blinking only once. You let out a sigh before returning to the kitchen to grab a cat treat. Doongie meowed pleadingly with you, going as far as to put a paw on your arm when you fished out a treat, “no.” You told the cat sassily, “you’ve caused enough trouble.” You swore Doongie rolled their eyes at you as you walked away.

“Come on out,” you gently cooed as you waved the treat in front of the opening to the cat housing. There was a moment of silence, and then a head popped out. You quickly moved your hand away so the cat would have to reach, and gasped when you saw the white cat who emerged. “Oh no Dori!” the normally striped gray cat was almost completely coated in powdered sugar. “On second thought,” you put the treat back into the housing, “you can stay in there.” You were not looking forward to washing the dark cat.

You left the cat to the darkness of the cat house and the treat before returning to the kitchen, letting out another wail when you saw Doongie playing around in the pile of sugar. “No! Bad cat!” you weren’t keen on another set of sugar tracks around the apartment so you slowly came closer to pick up Doongie. The white cat froze and stared at you, nimbly jumping out of the way when you lunged forward to pick them up. “No! Come back here!” you raced around the apartment chasing the white cat.

After a few seconds of chasing them, you decided to give up, hoping Doongie would calm down and sit instead of running around the entire apartment to cause an even bigger mess. You quickly closed the door to the bathroom where the cat was currently taking refuge and closed all the doors to the rooms. Hopefully this would keep the damage contained. With a sigh you set to cleaning up the powdered sugar that had splattered to the ground and somehow onto the cabinet right next to it.

You heard the deadbolt click and your heart sank as the door opened to reveal Minho, “hey,” while you were sad your cookies weren’t ready in time, seeing him always put a smile on your face and you got up from the ground to greet him, “you’re home early.”

“They let me leave earlier,” he smiled as the two of you quickly kissed. There was a meow and he looked down in confusion at the half-white half-gray Dori.

“Dori?” he kneeled down and rubbed the cat lovingly, “what happened?” he asked as he turned his attention to you.

“Don’t freak out.”

His dark eyes widened, “that’s not reassuring at all.”

“I was trying to bake you cookies, and then Doongie knocked the sugar bowl onto Dori.” Minho let out a quiet yelp and began inspecting Dori for any wounds. “Sorry.” You muttered shamefully, you were just trying to celebrate.

“Don’t worry about it,” Minho smiled as he pulled you into a hug, “that’s so sweet you tried to make something for me.”

“I guess I made something.” You muttered bitterly into his shirt, “a mess.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” he told you gently, “they’re self-cleaning,” he gestured toward Dori, “it’ll be fine. Probably.” You giggled at his last comment, relieved to find he wasn’t mad. He was an angel, if your positions were switched, you definitely wouldn’t be as cool-headed as he was right now. “Is something burning?” Minho asked after a moment and you let out a scream, running over to the oven and completely deflating when you saw the blackened cookies.

Minho aided you in opening the window and airing out the open oven so the fire alarm wouldn’t go off, “that wasn’t supposed to happen.” You mumbled sullenly as you took out the cookie sheet and cautiously broke one of them, causing it to completely shatter and reveal how deep the black reached. “I kind of don’t want to scrape off the burnt parts to get to the good stuff.

Minho peered over your shoulder and popped one of the broken pieces into his mouth. His eyes watered at the hot treat and he frantically waved a hand over his open mouth to try and cool it down. “Yeah, it’s kind of bad.” He answered honestly as he engulfed you in a back hug, “and it burned half of my taste buds before I even tasted it.” You deflated at his blunt comment, “don’t worry! Let’s go buy some cookies at the bakery down the street!”

“But I wanted to make you something to celebrate,” you pouted, looking sadly at the blackened sweets.

“Just being with you is enough,” he smiled into your neck.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, “you’re too nice.”

“Come on,” he gently tugged at you, “let’s clean up the cats and get some cookies.”

“I love you,” you told him softly as you gave him a kiss.

“Love you too.”

Masterlist

[petitelepus]

White Tigress And Purple Panther, Part 1

This was commissioned from me by my dear friend who has lately been sick, @y8-tiger!!! I hope you get better soon my friend. I’ll probably publish next chapters in AO3, let’s see how many like it here. Meanwhile, guys, please enjoy this first part of the FELINEFORMERS STORY.

"Any last words?" The huge tom above you growled and you bared your fangs back at him in defiance. You'd be damned if you would let yourself be killed just like that. Damn these toms surrounding you, you would die fighting.

How did you exactly end in here and in this kind of dire situation? It's a long story so let's make it short. It started as soon as you were born all those years ago. You were born in an everyday Tigers family, but you were anything else than an ordinary.

Your snow-white fur with darkest stripes set you apart from your orange, red, and crimson siblings the moment your carrier and sire saw you. You might have been beautiful, but your looks didn't help you. You were the runt of the litter, the one that was never meant to survive the first night and even less until your eyes opened finally opened.

Even from the moment of your birth, you had to fight so you could survive. Be it your sister and brother pushing you away from your source of milk or little animals that your sire brought to you little cubs of his to eat. Others learned to hunt by playing with each other, but you used your play-time to forage little things like bugs, frogs, mouses, and birds for you to eat.

Your siblings, old and new never stopped teasing you about your size. Tigers were supposed to be big and strong so why were you so small? Heck, if you knew you would have answered them, but you just focused on your little hunting trips and getting stronger.

As your siblings grew into fine fighters you grew to become a carrier. You absolutely hated it, you hated your body and how your siblings had spikes and you had valve. Your carrier wanted you all to continue your family line but you weren't exactly the carrying type. You trained and hunted like a fighter, but you were destined to carry someone's litter. At least that's what your sire kept trying to drill into your head.

One day you wandered further than ever before but it was worth it when you caught this absolutely delicious rabbit, but your meal was interrupted by the smell of smoke. You looked to the skies and saw huge dark clouds of smoke rising from your home.

Distraught, you abandoned your rabbit and ran as soon as you could, but you were late. You had no idea what set the fire but you didn't stick around to mope. With your home, prey, and family gone, you had no reason to stay at South. You set a strong pace and kept on walking until you would grow hungry. Then you would hunt, eat and continue walking.

There were suitors pawing after you here and there, but with a quick swipe of your claws, the weak toms would turn a tail and run like there was a fire under their tails. Your journey started around a year, maybe half ago and it had brought you from hot climates to cooler ones filled with snow. This time around the year, you resided in the exotic yet very wet forest.

You were no stranger to rainforests, but your coloring certainly made it hard to blend into the greenery. This often cost you a well-earned meal. That is why you often found yourself a nice puddle of mud and rolled in it so you could actually camouflage into the forest surrounding you. It was a shame that you needed to cover your beautiful fur, but survival was your main concern.

You were often overlooked by other cats because of your dirty fur, but what else could you have done? Starve but look good while dying? No, you rather sucked it up and rolled in the mud. Besides, there was no way you would submit and become just some common carrier.

You had just gotten your fur coated with a new layer of mud thanks to last night's rain. The rainy season left the forest feeling hot and damp, but you needed to eat and quickly. After prowling for a good hour after mice, reptiles, and birds, you hit a jackpot.

A beautiful plump bird, as colorful as it was chubby. A delicious delicacy that came down to the forest floor just to tease you. Or that's how it felt having it wave its feathers at you when you would usually fail, but you had a good feeling you were having bird for dinner.

You were just about to jump at the bird when suddenly-!

"Help!"

Your jump failed as you were distracted and the fat bird flew away. You growled under your breath but then you heard the sad cry of help again so you abandoned your dinner plans and ran through the greenery towards the sound. You could hear water streaming somewhere, but the loud cries for help also got louder.

Finally, you jumped out of the greenery and saw you had made it to a strong stream with a waterfall just around the corner on your right. Your eyes darted from left to right and then you heard it again.

"Help!"

You flicked your head to the left and saw maybe the smallest turquoise kitten you had ever seen, stranded on a boulder in the middle of the stream. It was a miracle you managed to hear their crying over the raging water. You ran to the point where the kitten was and the two of you locked eyes.

"Please! Help me!" They cried and you looked at the stream. It was strong, but you knew you were stronger. "Hold on, I'm coming to get you!" You called and without any further waiting jumped straight into the water.

Oh scrap, the stream was stronger than you thought, but the little kitten's cries pushed you to push your frame to its limits. You swam to the kitten and just as the water was about to take them you snatched them by the back of their neck with your mouth and you started to swim back to the land.

As soon as you made it to the land, you dropped the kitten on the ground so you could catch your breath. Frag, that was exhausting... But the kitten was safe. You looked at the little one and saw them shaking water from their fur. You took notice that they were a little femme and that for a kitten she was... Cute.

You glanced down at yourself, only to see that the hard current had washed your white fur clean once again. You would need to find a new mud puddle to roll around in.

The kitten must have noticed you staring because the little one turned her bright blue eyes at you. You weren't sure how to exactly react so you tried to go with the caring route. "Are you alri-?"

"What the frag took you so long!?" She hissed at you and you blinked. What did just happened? The little one shook her fur dry before she bared her fangs at you. "I could have drowned!"

"I- I-" For once, you had no clue what to say. You had met tomcats ten sizes larger than her and none of them stayed around to find out what you could do to them if they crossed you. So how come this little one could order you around like that? You must be nicer than you thought you were.

"At least you heard me..! So you aren't completely useless." She said as she started to lick per hand. You started at her until she took notice of it. "What are you looking at?"

You blinked and shook your head, "Nothing." You said and quickly added, "Are you alone? Where are your-?"

"My pack is resting on this side of the stream. If you just help me get over I'll be out of your fur." She said and you blinked. She was awfully mature for such a small kitten. You looked around and saw a long vine hanging from the tall trees just by the stream. You got up and caught the vine and looked at it. It should be long and sturdy enough to carry the kitten over the stream.

You turned to address the kitten. "Do you think you can hold onto this or should I carry you over the stream?"

"I'm old enough to cross with the vine." She said before getting up and walking to you. You just stared as she grabbed the vine from your hand and got ready to bounce, but you stopped her before she could cross. She turned to glare at you, but you weren't shaken by it. "What?"

"Just say a word and I'll carry you over. You don't need to be ashamed or anything." You said and you meant it. Despite being a tough cat, you still had a heart... And apparently soft spot for kittens. The little cat stared at you before scoffing and suddenly jumping. You blinked in shock and turned to look, only to see that the little one had crossed the stream with ease.

You could see her smirk from your spot on the other side of the stream. "Told you I can do it!" She was smug and for a reason. You had to be impressed. You weren't sure if you had made that jump at her age. So you smiled and called, "Be safe and stay dry!"

The kitten frowned at your obvious jab, but just as you were about to turn and start hunting your meal-!

"Hey!" The kitten called and you turned to look at her. She nodded, "Thanks. I won't forget this."

Despite her being so sassy and rude, she was a kitten after all. So you smiled and waved your hand at her, "Get back to your pack and we can call it even!"

You saw her nod before she disappeared into the thick forest. You smiled but it was a bitter-sweet smile. As fun as it was to meet her, she had her pack and you had your own company. You two came from two different worlds. With that in mind, you started to seek out your next meal.

A week or two went by when you decided it was time for you to change your hunting grounds. As juicy as some animals were, you had seen deers, hogs, and such on the other side of the stream.

Yeah, there might have been some other cats, but you were confident in your ability to survive and fend them off. You had seen the animals that gathered by the stream where you rescued the little kitten from. Those animals would fill your aching belly in no time.

So one day you swam across the stream and set out to hunt.