#stout snout

[bizarrebuns]

"Charlie Blue" - Livermore, CA

I kid you not, a friend of mine had a cat who looks exactly like this guy. Gives a new meaning to "dust bunny"

[odddogs]

sweet little sausage w/ a very rectangular block snout

(source)

[planariaareneat]

Dogs are Weird

It’s safe to say humans will likely be a ubiquity through the galactic community, for the most part. Many of us have a tendency to go beyond, to see new things and forge frontiers. Undoubtedly it must be true of many other species, especially those that make it to space all by themselves, but it’d be wrong to discount it simply because we’d be one of many.

Of course, on the odd ship that permits sufficiently domesticated and socialized fauna (‘pets’, if one wants to be informal) alongside sophonts, we’d be accompanied by a wide variety of fellow mammals. Small, fluffy creatures that yip; elongated and sinuous animals, borne on stout legs and bearing long snouts; friendly yellow beasts with lips pulled into a smile and fur like a shag carpet; maybe even muscular guardians, originally bred to fight or to protect - though hopefully more well-tempered by now. Maybe even variations of them we can’t yet envision will accompany us by the time we can bring them to the stars. 

Aliens might be deeply confused when they ask about what any one of these are, just to get the same answer: a dog. 

Domestication and selective breeding won’t be unfamiliar to most aliens. Even being in the company of (ancestrally) efficient social predators that can enmesh well into the hierarchy is likely not to be as odd as one might think. But even among our own throng of domestic mammals, canines outshine them all in one way: variation. 

Only 7 sets of genes (containing ~25 genes total) control the size of dogs, and just a couple need to be mutated to drastically change dog size. The difference between a chihuahua and a mastiff lies on these genes. Compare this to cats, who tend not to have much size variation in spite of a history of focused selective breeding spanning around the same amount of time as dogs. It’s argued - and not questioned - that dogs may have the most phenotypical variation of any land mammal, extant or extinct, within a single species. 

It’s entirely possible that many aliens may never have domesticated a species with such a simple control for massive changes. They’ll see us come to the stars with an endless menagerie of creatures under a single name.

On one last note…we often sing our praises of our capacity to pack-bond with just about anything; but dogs also chose to pack-bond with us those 30,000 years ago, and they chose to do it again and again and again…

Just as we pack-bond with our new allies among the stars, dogs will likely trot and frolic with all manner of aliens as well. They’ll tussle and fight over toys just as excitedly with insectoid hounds and scale-clad schnauzers as they do already with us and each other, while we sit on the side with our extraterrestrial friends and watch them, just as we always have.

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 3

Summary - After his mother's death in 115 AC Y/N Targaryen is summoned by his father Daemon to King's Landing in the hopes of forming a betrothal between the new heir to Runstone and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Warnings - targcest (cousins), general HOTD warnings, mentioned daemon x rhaenyra

Kingslanding reeked. 

(Y/N) wrinkled his nose as they got closer and closer to the gates of the keep. Daemon laughed at the sour expression on his son’s face, urging his horse closer to the boy. 

Daemon leaned toward (Y/N), speaking lowly, “You will get used to it.” 

“I don’t intend to stay long enough to get used to it, father.” (Y/N) urged his horse forward, hoping to reach the keep and escape the foul stench as quickly as possible. The people of Flea Bottom paid him little mind as he rode past, only pausing their daily tasks when his father and escorts strode past behind him. 

The gates of the Red Keep loomed over him as he and the riding party approached, and (Y/N) took in the vast courtyard. The squires and knights all paused their training to gape at the arrival of the prince and his son, and (Y/N)’s posture straightened at the attention. He reminded himself this was not the keep of Runestone, and that he knew naught of the workings and whims of the people here. He dismounted from his horse carefully, brushing his hand softly down the mare’s snout. 

A stable boy took the mare’s reins from his hands and guided the horse away from him. (Y/N) turned to face his father, who waved him over. Taking his place next to the white-haired prince (Y/N) looked to the keep’s steps. A stout brown-haired man awaited the party at the bottom of the steps, flocked by two kingsguards in white. The stout man wore the badge of the hand, pinned to his tunic. He bowed to both princes before speaking. 

“Prince Daemon, welcome back.” The man turned to (Y/N), “And Prince (Y/N), welcome to Kingslanding. The King awaits you both in The Great Hall.” 

“Thank you, Lord Strong.” His father spoke next to him. “And congrats on your promotion.” 

The man, Lord Strong, nodded his thanks to Daemon before turning on his heel and making his way into the keep. The halls of The Red Keep were filled with murmurs as (Y/N) and his father followed the King’s Hand through the halls. He could feel the eyes of the courtiers and servants following him as he walked, keeping his eyes straight ahead so as to not meet their curious gazes. He could hear his name whispered with delight and curiosity, as was his father’s over and over again. 

Once again his father walked close to his side, whispering to him, “You must not let them bother you.” 

“What?” He kept his eyes forward, but his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“The stares and whispers,” Daemon clarified. “This is not Runestone, you are a mystery to them.” 

“They are a mystery to me as well.” 

Daemon chuckled, “Yes, but you are a prince, they are not.” 

His father stuck by his side the rest of the walk through the keep until they reached the grand ornate doors to The Great Hall. (Y/N) took an uneasy breath as they both approached, and his father whispered to him one last time as the doors opened, hand softly resting on his shoulder. 

“They will love you.” 

And with that, his father stepped away and the doors opened.

“Prince Daemon of House Targaryen and his son, Prince (Y/N) of Houses Royce and Targaryen” 

Silence fell over The Great Hall as her uncle and cousin entered. Her uncle walked tall and proud, his clothes black as they possibly could be, the red sigil of their house stood bright across his chest, and his blade was sheathed proudly at his side. Shadowing him was her cousin, her betrothed, she supposed, dressed not in the colors of their house but in his mother’s colors instead. His (H/C) hair was pulled back into a loose bun, a few curls escaping and framing his face. He donned a brown tunic, leather covered in runes Rhaenyra did not recognize, covered his chest and shoulders. Although he walked nearly as tall and proud as his father, there was something in his steps that gave away his discomfort. 

Rhaenyra caught her father straightening in anticipation, he was as much a stranger to Daemon’s son as she was, she remembered. He was a comely boy, looking more like her uncle than she had expected. For that at least Rhaenyra was grateful, for she would have no trouble pretending to be interested in him even if only for his looks. 

“Your grace,” Daemon bowed to her father, “May I present my son, Prince (Y/N) of Houses Targaryen and Royce.” 

Rhaenyra could not help but chuckled at the disdain for the title in her uncle’s voice. 

“Your grace.” (Y/N) kneeled next to his father. 

“Rise, the both of you.” Viserys smiled at the father and son duo, getting up off the throne and approaching them. He turned to (Y/N), studying him, he placed his hand on the boy's cheek, causing him to flinch in confusion slightly, “I am saddened that we have remained strangers for so long, nephew. But know that you are, and forever will be, most welcome in my court.” 

“Thank you, your grace.” 

Viserys turned to her, “Rhaenyra come.” 

Rhaenyra walked toward the three men, pointedly avoiding her uncle’s gaze, she did not wish to anger her father in the middle of court. She caught her cousin’s gaze instead, his violet eyes widening at the sight of her. 

“Princess,” He breathed, before remembering himself and giving a bow. 

She smiled at him, “Rhaenyra, we are family, cousin.” 

He nodded, reddening slightly. It was obvious to the princess that he would rather be anywhere else but under the gazes of her father’s court. 

Rhaenyra turned to her father, “Perhaps it would be best to dismiss the court, father. So that we may discuss things more privately.” 

Her father looked around them at the curious and whispering courtiers, all trying to catch a look at the fabled son of Prince Daemon. Only then did he seem to realize how uncomfortable his nephew seemed to be under the weight of their judgment. 

“Of course,” Viserys nodded solemnly, he turned to his newly appointed hand, “Court is dismissed for today Lyonel, I wish to speak with my family privately.” 

And with that Viserys wrapped his arm around Daemon, speaking to him as they turned and walked back down The Great Hall. Rhaenyra walked up to (Y/N), grabbing onto his arm which startled the prince slightly. 

“We should follow.” Rhaenyra smiled at him, and he blinked at her before speaking. 

“Right,” He blushed, “Of course.” 

They trailed after their fathers, (Y/N) only tensing further with every step they took. 

“I suppose the court is intimidating to those unused to it,” Rhaenyra said, hoping to ease some of her cousin’s nerves. She needed him to relax if she was to grasp an idea of what her future husband was like. 

“I am not quite sure what to make of it yet, princess.” 

“Rhaenyra,” She reminded, “It is good to be unsure, (Y/N). It’s harder to fall for their schemes if you do not trust them.” 

He smiled, genuinely, at her comment. He leaned closer to whisper to her as they walked, and she realized that he was more than just comely, “I take it you are not fond of everyone in your father’s court, Rhaenyra.” 

She made a noncommittal noise, shrugging but giving her cousin a smile all the same.

She had been angry with her father’s decision to betroth her to Daemon’s son without her permission, seemingly out of revenge on both his daughter and his brother. She had promised her father she would do her duty as wife and heir, but only if he’d dismiss the scheming vulture that was Otto Hightower. He’d done his part, now it was her time to do hers.

His uncle took his place at the head of the table, and Daemon took a seat by his side. Rhaenyra let go of his arm, striding over to the table and picking up the pitcher of wine, walking around the seated men and filling their cups. (Y/N) stood at the table, a comfortable distance from the rest of his family, hands resting on the back of the chair. When Rhaenyra was finished she stood directly across from her cousin, giving him a look that made him avert his eyes. 

Anyone with eyes could see the beauty in Rhaenyra, it was no wonder to (Y/N) why she was called ‘The Realm’s Delight’. 

“You may sit, my boy.” Viserys said, and (Y/N) turned to face his uncle and father. Daemon was smiling smugly at his son’s discomfort. 

“Forgive me, your grace.” (Y/N) took a seat. “But I am eager to discuss the reason I was summoned from Runestone.” 

“Yes, of course.” Viserys’ smile faltered at his words before he composed himself. He turned to Daemon and Rhaenyra, clearing his throat before continuing, “I have proposed a marriage to both your father and grandsire. Between you, (Y/N), and your cousin, my daughter, and heir, Princess Rhaenyra.” 

(Y/N) froze, looking at his cousin with wide eyes, and his uncle continued. 

“House Royce is one of the most ancient houses of Westeros, descended from the First Men. They were once themselves kings, and the further unification of House Royce and House Targaryen would bring strength not only to both houses, but the realm itself.” 

“I am aware of my house’s history, your grace.” (Y/N) spoke, tearing his eyes away from his cousin to face his uncle and father, “But forgive if I say I am confused at this proposal. I am to become the Lord Royce of Runestone upon my grandsire’s death-” 

“I was saddened to learn of the death of your mother.” 

“Thank you, your grace.” (Y/N) continued, “But as I was saying, I am to be Lord Royce, and Rhaenyra is to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. How will the succession be handled, if we were to wed?” 

Would it not be easier to marry his cousin to a second son? As was done with his mother and father. (Y/N) was to take the name Royce when he claimed his seat as well, would Rhaenyra’s children with him be Targaryen’s or would they be Royce’s. As beautiful as his cousin was, this marriage had too many questions to comfort (Y/N). 

“Rhaenyra is my heir, upon my death my throne and titles will pass to her,” Viserys spoke, “Your first born child, regardless of gender, will inherit the Iron Throne from her. Your second born child will inherit Runestone from you.” 

“As Royce’s or Targaryen’s?” 

“You are a Targaryen, (Y/N).” Daemon bit out, clearly frustrated with his son’s questions. 

“Yes, but when I take my seat I will do so under the name Royce. Will our children take my name when they are born?” 

Viserys smiled, “Like you, upon their birth your children shall take their father’s name, be that Targaryen or Royce, in keeping with our traditions. However, at such a time when your first born ascends the Iron Throne, he or she will do so bearing the name Targaryen.” 

Daemon smiled, “Dragons will rule The Seven Kingdoms for the next hundred years just as they did the last.” 

(Y/N) had come to Kingslanding expecting a marriage between him and some lord’s daughter, but Rhaenyra was the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not some minor lord's daughter. (Y/N) did not wish for the complexities of this marriage, but by a simple glance around the room, he realized that his future had already been decided for him. 

He was to be the future King Consort of The Seven Kingdoms, no matter his wishes.

“House Royce worships the Old Gods, do they not?” 

(Y/N) startled at the sound of Rhaenyra’s voice, standing from where he was kneeling to face his betrothed. “Rhaenyra. How did you find me?” 

He and Rhaenyra had been dismissed from the Small Council chambers hours ago, their fathers talking amongst themselves about further preparations. (Y/N) had given Rhaenyra a small apology before giving her his goodbye and asking to be shown to his chambers. He’d hoped to find some peace in the solitude but found himself restless as he paced around the unfamiliar room. It had only taken half an hour before he’d felt mad and went looking for a Godswood. 

The Godswood in The Red Keep was pitiful compared to the one in Runestone, but (Y/N) supposed it would make due as he knelt to pray. He’d hoped to be undisturbed till night fell but alas his betrothed had found him nearly an hour later. 

“Your guard said you were here.” Rhaenyra smiled at him, stepping close. “You do not wish for this match.” 

“Princess I-” 

“I could see it on your face, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra said, “Don’t fret, I know this union is not what you would choose. I did not choose it myself. But if it has to be someone I am glad it is you.” 

“You do not know me, cousin.” 

“Yes, but-” Rhaenyra bit her lip. “I hold nothing against you.” 

“Nor I you.” (Y/N) sighed, “Truly, Rhaenyra, my qualms with this match are not an insult against you. I am simply worried that our duties as respective heirs will conflict with our duties as husband and wife.” 

“I understand.” Rhaenyra smiled, she took a seat at the roots of the tree, and (Y/N) followed suit. “We will just have to find a balance between the two, cousin. I have faith it will not be as hard as you fear it to be.” 

“Istiti jorepagon.” (Y/N) said solemnly, and Rhaenyra lit up at his words. 

“Ao ȳdragon Valyrīha?” 

(Y/N) nodded, “My mother made sure I was properly educated.” 

“I think we will both find happiness in this marriage, cousin.” Rhaenyra said. “I see no reason why, if we both do our duty to the realm, we cannot dine where we see fit.” 

(Y/N) laughed, surprised at the princess’ boldness in her desires. “And where would you like to dine, Rhaenyra?” 

She shrugged, smiling at him, and he mused that maybe this match could work for them after all. They would simply have to make it work to fit both of their tastes. 

“I have been told my tastes are not proper for a lady of my status.” She said, and (Y/N) clicked his tongue. 

“Well I will not starve you of your desires, cousin.” (Y/N) said. “I only ask that you do not deny me mine.” 

She leaned close to him, and he could smell a faint hue of wine on her breath as she spoke, “I have told you of my desires, cousin. It is only fair that you return the favor.” 

“I am not picky, I dine where I am welcome.” 

Rhaenyra smirked, leaning back slightly and looking (Y/N) up and down. (Y/N) bit his lip, watching her movements. She leaned forward again, pressing a kiss to his cheek, she lingered long enough for it to be considered improper, and (Y/N) was glad for the privacy of the Godswood. 

“I will see you at supper, (Y/N).” 

She walked away, leaving (Y/N) to watch her as she left him in the Godswood.

---

Translations -

Istiti jorepagon - We must pray

Ao ȳdragon Valyrīha? - You speak valyrian

[koegama]

Hanasei

Avg. height: 1.70-2.20m | Avg. weight: 80-150 kg | Hyper-carnivores | Semi-aquatic lifestyle | Lifespan: ~120 years

Hanasei are a semi-aquatic species that originate from lakes, but expanded their settlements into rivers and other large bodies of water. They're a medium-sized biped with a hard keratin helmet where horns sprout from and a tail with large fins. Their skin is slightly damp, and can range from smooth to bumpy, that affects their transpiration and how often they must hydrate. They have both two nostrils located at their helmet and from 2 to 4 gills on both sides of their neck, of which are used for speech in land and breathing underwater, while the nostril's only function is on land respiration. Their necks are strong and well develop, and can expand or contract.

Both hands and feet have webbed fingers to facilitate swimming, but the webbing on the hands can retract for better dexterity when handling utensils. Their amphibious lifestyle left them being only decent at both types of locomotion, but their versatility makes up for it as they can comfortably transition to both environments. They're hyper-carnivores and will eat anything made of animal matter, including bones.

They are the only sexless sophont in Koegama, using Aether as a reproduction tool instead of a biological system.

More physiology dump undercut! Warning, long

Head

The common head structure of a Hanasei is somewhat flat, with a stout snout and large jaws. Proportions and shape vary per individual, and slight deviations from standard models are common. Sometimes, small barbels, whisker-like structures, will grow from their jaw and upper lip area. They give a small boon to the olfactory systems, but otherwise have no major benefits.

Horns

While the protrusions on Hanasei's heads are not anatomically horns but a different keratin appendage, horns are the most common colloquial term. Their main purpose were for fighting and a display of health and fitness to potential partners. Nowadays, most Hanasei have no real use for their horns other than decorative, but individuals may favor different horn styles compared to others.

They don't shed, growing through their infancy and plateauing around 23 to 27 years old. If a horn is broken mid-development, it will continue to grow, resulting in mismatched horns and branched protrusions depending on the type of damage. Once the horns stop growing, the blood and nerve system will shrink and be absorbed, leaving the area with no sensation and regrowth impossible. Cracks and missing pieces being a common sign of age.

Variance

Horns are very vulnerable to Aether tampering, leading to a numerous amount of styles and types to exist. Larger, more elaborate horns can make swimming more difficult, but overall the range is stable and harmless.

The presence of horns and the pair number is not affected, with 2 horns always present.

Eyes & Ears

Hanasei have good night vision, but poor eyesight in general. They can recognize the shapes around them and a few colors, but their daylight and night vision are almost the same otherwise. Their eyes can have different shapes and colors, but the effect is purely visual as their eye sensors work the same regardless of their appearance.

Hanasei don't have visible ears, but a tympanic membrane around their cheek area, which is able to pick up vibrations both in and out of water. They have great hearing, and are more aware of vibrations such as tremors and footsteps. They can voluntarily close their inner ear and stop themselves from picking up sounds, a common method for falling asleep.

Mouth

Hanasei lack teeth, using their upper jaw protrusions to hold and rip food instead. They have a powerful bite, being able to hold down things with immense pressure. Their tongues function like a catapult, with the tip facing the inside of the mouth on a resting position and launched outwards when needed, their saliva being sticky and helping trap prey inside their mouths. With cooking and more efficient methods of getting food, this isn't a common practice anymore, unless one spotted a quick snack. Unlike the other sophonts, Hanasei are still able to eat raw meat and may supplement their normal diet with bugs, fish and other easy to snag creatures in between activities.

They have very powerful and sensitive taste buds, coupled with a taste disc that lets them distinct between minute differences in food. Their mouth, just like most of their organs, tend to take the most prominent color of their Aether.

Respiratory system & Speech

Hanasei has two different systems for breathing. Outside of water, their nostrils are open and air moves through their cavity into their respiratory organs, and their gills are used for channeling sound. Air can be directed to their larynx, which is specialized for manipulating air into sound similar to vocal cords, which is only connected to the gills and not nostrils. This separate system means Hanasei can talk while breathing, and their vocalizations are very impressive, being able to mimic almost any sound they hear with practice. They can alter these sounds with the opening and closing of the larynx openings and changing how open or closed their gills are. To keep their gills from drying, the parts used for respiration often retract or close, but Hanasei in drier climates must moisturize their gills at intervals to prevent internal damage.

Underwater, their nostrils close and their gills stay open. Most of their larynx close, and filter capillaries expand to better capture oxygen diffused in the water. This makes vocalization underwater impossible, and sign language is the most common replacement. Hanasei can have 2, 3 or 4 gills on each side of their neck, and the shape of the gill can be varied, creating "accents" for each Hanasei in their relaxed voice.

They have a good olfactory system, being one of their most reliable senses. They're able to smell the humidity in the air and incoming rains and droughts. Because this uses their nostrils, they're unable to smell anything underwater.

Body

Hanasei size and builds are diverse, with individuals building muscle mass, fat and other outside factors influencing how they look. Their proportions stay consistent, with necks around the same size of their torso, short arms and elongated legs bigger than the torso itself, but deviations aren't uncommon.

Limbs

Hanasei arms start with their shoulders placed at the lower area of their torso, and stop with hands on their hips. Despite the shorter length, they have impressive arm strength and weaker Hanasei are known to rival other species' average. This makes them great at carrying things, and grabbing and holding down prey and foes. Their hands are dexterous when the webbing is retracted, but they lose a lot of maneuverability when extended.

Their legs are long and muscular, granting them an upright walk. They're not very fast, averaging 7 km/h running speed, but they have great endurance and the ability to jump high vertical distances and can pounce forward if crouched. Their muscle system can lock into a crouching stance, a comfortable stance comparable to sitting. Their feet are digitigrade but their fingers are big and wide, with a large base, keeping their body in balance and stable at the cost of mobility and grace.

Tail

Hanasei tails are long, with a vertical caudal fin that often extends beyond the base and helps them swim. This fin can regenerate when damaged, and broken or rotten tissue can lead into an entire chunk or the fin removed to speed recovery and promote an even replacement.

Fins are classified into two types, regular and segmented. Regular fins are connected into one piece, while segmented fins are broken down into various fins of different sizes and shapes, similar to fish fins. No matter the type, their shapes are kept hydrodynamic and tailored for swimming. Sometimes, the size of the base tail will also be shorter or longer than average.

Hanasei swim in two ways: a horizontal wave movement and by kicking their legs. The former is done with the help of their tail fins and is the slower of the two, but costs less energy. Hanasei will often alter the surrounding current with Aether to make this movement faster, with an average of 11 km/h. Leg kicks are less common as long term swimming and rather used for short bursts of speed and distance, and the longer one uses it the more they'll tire and may be unable to swim without resting. The peak swimming speed of Hanasei is around 20 km/h, taking leg kicks into account. As they were ambush and endurance predators, the lack of speed was not an issue for them. Depending on their fin shape, individuals may have different ways of swimming.

Aether

Their natural Aether is Nam Aether. They make use of it to help their swimming and underwater hunting, and to keep themselves damp. They tend to cast Aether from their mouths, as their Aether glands are present on their throat.

In their breeding months, their Aether start producing cells for reproduction and lose their usual abilities. This months-long limitation leads Hanasei to not be involved with using their Aether proactively or learn new skills, preferring to rely on technology to harness and utilize Aether instead.

Reproduction

Egg

To create an egg, two or more Hanasei spit out and mix their Aether together in a body of water. The resulting foam will stick together and in 3 days will develop into an egg, and one healthy Hanasei can produce enough reproductive Aether to make 200 eggs. This can only happen in the breeding period of Hanasei, usually on the 2nd and 8th month of the year. Modern Hanasei societies will instead send their reproductive Aether to the labs of the area, which will store it to create eggs with more efficient mixing machines and incubators.

The Aether inside the egg will segregate itself into larva stem cells and the nutritious yolk. After 12~14 days, the egg will be completely dry and the larva will eclode. The volatility of Aether means many larva never form or form incorrectly, and these eggs are discarded and repurposed or eaten. Only 1 in 50 eggs actually eclode, and this high rate of failure leads Hanasei to not view eggs as their young or a new generation, but more of a vessel that can fail or succeed. They have no qualms with re-purposing eggs in food, experiments or any other procedure.

Larva

Larva, often called notes, are very different from their adult counterparts. They're not considered sapient when they first hatch, but their growth is rapid and by 3 months in, they'll have the intelligence of a one year old toddler and have legs and arm stubs growing, alongside the keratin helmet and an underdeveloped nostril. This growth is fueled by a great appetite, and Hanasei larvae are omnivores and will eat almost anything they can fit in their mouths.

At the 9th month, they'll have most of their limbs developed to their young proportions, but their respiratory system will need an additional 3 months to allow for respiration outside water. Larvae at this stage will take short dips into land to push their muscles and lungs, until they no longer need to return to water to breathe.

Young

Once a larva can leave the water, they're called a young. "Young" encompasses the children and teenager years, lumped together as they no longer share any major physical differences from each other or to adults. The rest of their growth will be in size and intellect, slowing down from the quick pace of their larval years into a more normal 20 or so years to reach maturity. The main exception are horns, which only start growing around their 5th year and can take over a decade to finish growing. Smaller horns may plateau faster.

[dragonskulls]

Based on the variety among sea animals I decided to make some regional variations of the coast strikers (note that these are variations only, not entirely new quivers or clades). The dragons shown here would be the most “defined” archetype of each variety, showcasing most or all traits characteristic of said kind. They all share certain base features, like rudder shaped tails, gills, harpoon tongues, echolocation, double rows of teeth, and flat tail spines that can be detached and thrown. However, some traits change or are more common in each variety:

Deep water

Make up about 5% of the population, and inhabit the smaller communities in deeper ocean. The main activities here are algae and mollusk farming, as well as resource collection from the sea floor, both of which require a more long term stay –despite the dangers of sea serpents and other such beasts–. Slightly smaller than their cousins, they’re better equipped for the depths rather than for flying: shorter wings, webbed talons, very broad tails, and gills being more oxygen efficient, although their dart spines are usually less in quantity and shorter compared to inland dragons. Extra flippers and more fin tissue between spines is common, as well as larger eyes to take in more light. Their most notable trait, is that of translucence. Most commonly, it’s usually just wings and torsos that are see through, but different dragons showcase different levels of said trait, some being completely translucent in rare cases (of course, trading better camouflage for less armor). Coloration typically goes from dark colors similar to coastal strikers, black, red, or sometimes pale colors (the latter present usually in the populations living in the deepest available settlements). Rarely, some slight bioluminescence is present in transparent sections of the body.

Coastal

The representatives of the Roaring Coast quiver, being around 80% of their numbers. Sleek, tall but well muscled, they inhabit the sea side cliffs on the coast and some settlements in shallower waters. Extremely long and narrow wings are perfect for soaring for hours out at sea, with webbed back talons and a flattened tail making them adept swimmers. Their blade shaped spines are plenty and deadly when thrown, and offer some protection to their necks and backs. Fin tissue in between the spines is few or non existent. An odd ability most present in this variety, is the one of spitting ink. Manifesting itself as dark splotches in the throat, this ink is dense and quickly expanding underwater, and very sticky and thick on land, making it useful at deterring predators or confusing prey. Countershading is the standard regarding coloration, with light colors underneath and darker ones on top, the latter usually ranging from black, gray to washed out shades of blueish or purple hues which shine with more vivid highlights under the sun. Most common patterns are stripes or flecks. A perfect balance between the sea and land.

Inland

The remainder of the coast striker population, they live in the rivers and lakes on the edges of the Roaring Coast territory, further inland but still relatively close to the ocean. Shorter but more stout than coastal strikers, with medium length wings, broad whiskered snouts and narrower tails. Their spines are closer to the average AshWing, being more needle shaped rather than a flat blade. Their colors are similar to those of pebbles and gravel (more earthy tones) and messy patterns of spots, blotches, stripes and rosettes. Fin tissue is more similar to that of fish, making itself present more than in the coast variety but less than those of deep waters, as well as having some slight webbing in all talons. Some notable features are some splashes of brighter colors, and semi retractable barbs in limbs and backs –like those of catfish– which can sometimes inject painful venom. These last two traits are similar to the ones present in swamp lurkers; this could be the result of convergent evolution or cross breeding between clades, given the relative proximity of their territories

On a final note, characteristics mentioned here aren’t exclusive to each variety: there could be a coastal striker with slight translucence and barbs, a deep water striker with whiskers and ink, or an inland striker with full talon webbing and jet black scales. These are increasingly likely if one parent has said traits. Additionally, many times these varieties and traits are not so starkly differentiated as are the ones show here, usually being a mild mix between some

[mousemilf]

im a little cowboy short and stout

cowboy toes and cowboy snout

when u tip me over hear me shout

yee haw!

[louisrarepairfest]

LOUIS RARE PAIR FEST 2024

- Posting Schedule -

Fics post at 8:30 CST on Mondays & Wednesdays with a weekly roundup on Fridays

🫐 Oct 7 - I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface

🫐 Oct 9 - I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence

🫐 Oct 14 - Glitz, Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28

🫐 Oct 16 - Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14

🫐 Oct 21 - Ci Ci Leu by @persephoneflouwers

🫐 Oct 23 - That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum

🫐 Oct 28 - It's a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

🫐 Oct 30 - I want yesterdays love by edensrose / @holdingthornsandroses

🫐 Nov 4 - i tell myself i'm done with wicked games by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor / @sup3rbloom

🫐 Nov 6 - No More Days Alone by @signofcomfort

🫐 Nov 11 - To start again by @loretheloner

🫐 Nov 13 - Snouts and Stouts by @turnyourankle

🫐 Nov 18 - I've drowned and dreamt this moment by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

[weministertomonsters]

Trouble Comes In Two - 1 🌶

➤ Pairing - M werewolf-vampire hybrid x F human reader

➤ Wordcount 2.8k

You enter the diner and find your two friends at a corner booth, contrasting each other like night and day. Quyne is dark-skinned, wearing a red jacket and ruffled vest with black leather pants and a studded belt. His heeled boots make him go from tall to giant and even though his slender form makes it seem like a stiff wind could knock him over, you know from experience that he's actually pretty strong.

Vale is shorter and somewhat stout with muscled arms that would make anyone think twice about fighting him. Being a werewolf-vampire hybrid means he doesn't have a human form to shift into and while he has an intimidating, beastly body, you know his heart is practically as soft as his belly. He's just a cinnamon roll that happens to have teeth. He's dressed in loose grey pants and a loose comfy shirt so it doesn't irritate his copper-brown fur.

Quyne looks up at you. His hooded eyes brighten and his lips curve into a smile as he waves you over. You approach them, groaning at the empty bottles littering the table. As a pureblood vampire, Quyne can't drink any of that, so there's only one other option as to who did.

"Quyne, why'd you let him drink so much? You know he's too heavy for both of us to carry!"

Vale is pretty much passed out and his snout is almost in the ketchup on his plate, a limp french fry dangling from a claw. Quyne is across from him. His black eyeliner and white makeup look a little smudged in a sultry "I just got kissed" kind of way. It's been a long day and yet he still manages to pull off his iconic goth makeup.

Quyne shrugs, his glossy lips curling upwards again. "Hello to you too. You made it."

"Duh. I won't ever leave you stranded with this doofus," you reply, plopping down to give your feet a break. Quyne's text came just as you were closing from work, so you walked here. "How's your travel thing going?"

"Great. We've been living hand to mouth and honestly, it has made for some fun times," Quyne says, resting his arms on the table. "Vale ate a whole deer once."

"He caught it?" You're about to be impressed but Quyne shakes his head and snorts.

"No, he's too soft for that. Fresh roadkill."

Vale opens one golden eye and snuffles, able to pick up your scent even now.

"Sweetheart, it's you!" He says with a bit of a slur, lifting his head and bumping it against your shoulder.

"Hello, Vale." You wrap your arm around him and let him snuggle against your shoulder.

It's no easy feat because he's heavy leaning into you like that. His body relaxes and his tail begins to thump against the seat. He only wags his tail when he's really happy. You stifle a laugh and poke at the cold food. You're hungry but you're not in the mood for soggy fries.

"I can make you something if you let us sleep over at yours tonight," Quyne says, his fangs flashing in the bright overhead lights.

You nudge his foot under the table. There's a prejudice towards vampires in this city and on top of all of that he's drawing attention with his makeup and fluffy afro and towering body. Quyne only smirks in response, which makes you roll your eyes. Neither he or Vale possess much of a survival instinct.

"Hopeless idiots," you shake your head and pretend to think about his request. "Aren't you guys taking advantage of me like the old days?"

"Not if I cook for you," Quyne replies, leaning over the table and batting his eyelashes. "And do the dishes."

Without realising it you've leaned in as well. You're almost kissing before you're able to snap out of it.

"Don't do that," you pout. "You know better than to mesmerize me."

"I wasn't." He leans back and licks his lips.

"Whatever." You're not about to admit that you like him enough that he doesn't even need to mesmerize you for you to fall under his influence.

Quyne glances at his phone. "It's getting late."

Vale jumps up at that. "Sweetheart, you're not leaving us, are you?"

"No," you look up at the hybrid looming over you and blocking out the light. "You're coming home with me, puppy."

"Amazing. Balls, I'm so happy but the floor is swimming." He mutters, takes an unsteady step, and begins to topple.

In a flash, Quyne is bolstering him, tucking his phone into his skin-tight pants. "Lead the way," he says.

The three of you make a funny sight stumbling down the sidewalk as you and Quyne strain to keep Vale from ending up nose-first on the ground.

"Why is he so drunk?!" You complain.

"I told him to take it easy but you know."

"Know what?"

"Full moon is just around the corner," Quyne huffs, and your eyes widen.

"Oh! I forgot about that. Remind me why he doesn't match with any of the wolves around here?" You ask as you flag down a taxi.

"They either think he's too pushy or they don't like that he's a hybrid," Quyne shrugs. "I've been taking care of things myself."

"What?!" You snicker at the thought. "Now I see why you want to come to mine."

"Are you jealous?" Quyne pulls open the door for you.

"You wish," you shoot back playfully, getting in the backseat.

Vale clambers in after you. He has to lie over your lap to fit in the taxi, but of course, he doesn't mind.

"You smell good," he mumbles, wedging his snout between your legs.

You're happy you're not wearing a skirt. His nose would be chilly against your skin.

"Rude. Excuse me, mister," you tug gently on one of his ears and he moans.

The taxi driver clears his throat and glares into the review mirror.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Quyne sits in the front seat and looks out the window. Luckily there's not much traffic and before you know it you're outside your apartment building. The cleaner almost drops her mop as the three of you go by.

"I get so many stares when I'm with you two," you note.

"What can I say? I was born for the spotlight," Quyne sighs, fluffing his afro.

You step into the elevator and Vale presses his warm body against you, his teeth testing the skin at your neck.

"Vale..." You swallow a moan as his hand forces its way into your jeans.

You have to shift your weight and hold the rail to keep yourself steady.

"Just a taste, sweetheart. I promise," he groans.

"Have some patience. I said you could ravage her when we get to the apartment. Not one moment earlier," Quyne says, tugging on his forearm.

"Hngh... But her blood..." Vale says, his eyes flashing a dull red.

The elevator opens and you squirm free and dart out of it.

"You two planned this. Of course." You tut as you grab your keys, wanting to get inside as quickly as possible.

"Are you mad?" Quyne asks softly.

"No. You two are a hell of a handful, that's all." You push your door open with a flourish. "Welcome to my humble-"

Vale grabs your arm and yanks you in, tugging you over to the couch, a huge and sturdy custom-made piece of furniture. You bought it after Vale broke your previous one. You oblige and sit. Quyne closes the front door and pulls off his boots.

"What would you like to eat?" He asks.

"Uh..." Your brain isn't exactly working as you dumbly watch Vale shuck off his pants, nearly falling in his haste to get them off.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" Vale pants. "Fuck, I used Quyne so hard, and all that time I was wishing you were there with us, just like old times."

"You owe me!" Quyne hollers to you from the kitchen. "Keeping up with Vale isn't easy."

You gulp when Vale pushes the coffee table out of the way and kneels in front of you. His ears flick back as his hand moves between his legs, gripping his swollen sheath and teasing his cock out. He pauses, eyes back to gold like twin moons.

"What are you waiting for?" You ask.

"Your permission. Can I taste you? Please?" He hisses through clenched teeth.

"I would like that," you say, and you've barely got the words out before he's yanking at your jeans.

"Careful," you remind him as his claws come dangerously close to poking you.

He grumbles and fumbles with the zipper, squinting.

"Are you sure you're sober enough for this?" You pat his head.

"Yeah, 'm fine. You take them off," he demands. "I'm going to rip them otherwise and I know that's your favorite pair."

You grin and wriggle out of them, pushing his snout back and making him wait while you get them all the way off along with your panties. He squirms in place, his soft muzzle digging into your palm. Finally, you lean back against the couch and give him the green light. He dives between your legs, prying them apart. Your hip joint pops and you wince.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You used to be pretty flexible... What happened?" He licks your inner thigh and nips at the skin there.

"I stopped working out," you admit ruefully.

"Tsk. How am I going to get you into a mating press if I have to worry about you pulling a muscle?" He replies.

You giggle at that, but you're not laughing for very long. He's looking up at you, and you see the way his pupils blow out as his tongue flicks out and drags against your pussy.

"God, I forgot how much I love this," he groans. "Fuck, the way you taste. Gorgeous."

His tongue is hot as he tastes you, his nose a cold press against your clit. Now and then he growls, and the sound vibrates through you. He's greedy for more, dragging you further down the couch so you're completely open to him. He forces his tongue inside you and scoots even closer, his breath hot against your thighs.

"Come on, sweetheart. You want to come, yeah?" His voice comes out muffled and broken between hitching gasps. "Come all over me, gorgeous."

He's the one who sounds like he's falling apart.

You play with your neglected tits, cupping them in your hands while your fingers tease your nipples in maddening circles, copying what his tongue is doing. You forgot how good Vale is at giving head. You don't even remember why you let them leave in the first place. Never again. You gasp, grabbing Vale's head and holding him there. Your orgasm is toe-curling and delicious and snatches your breath away.

When you come back to your senses, you're being manhandled by Vale into a better position for him to fuck you. It's instinct for a wolf to make sure their mate has at least one climax to prepare them, but with Vale, just one is never enough. However, it looks like he can't wait anymore.

"Oof," you grunt as he pushes you back rather roughly. "Hold on just a second, something is poking me."

You fish a hardcover book out from under you with moments to spare as he settles between your legs, yanking them apart. Your hip pops again but you're past caring.

"Gentle, Vale. It's been a while since I had anything as big as your-"

He isn't listening. He nudges his hips forward and sinks an inch into you. The flared head of his cock is the largest part except for his knot, and you're not happy about that.

"What did I say about being gentle?" You exclaim.

"Need help?" Quyne calls from the kitchen and he sounds amused, the bastard he is.

"I'm fine!" You reply stubbornly, biting your lip.

Vale attempts to stuff more of himself in and you shoot up on your elbows, teeth bared in a silent, primal snarl.

"Wait."

"Sorry," he grunts and looks a little cowed, but with the way his cock twitches inside you, you know he isn't really.

You lie down and take a few deep breaths.

"God, I forgot how big you are," you murmur.

Vale leans over you, flicking his tongue over your nipples, his teeth teasing at your skin in a way that always makes you hold your breath. He's never bitten you accidentally, though.

"You're so tight," he whines, tracing the blunt curve of his claw over your pussy lips, rubbing it against your clit. "You feel so good. Now?"

You shake your head and grab a throw pillow to hide your smile. You love seeing him get worked up as he struggles not to give in to his desire even as it clouds his eyes. He bows over you, nuzzling at your neck and fighting the urge not to bite. You love being bitten but you have to admit that the healing process sucks.

"Fuck," he hisses, shuddering. "This is torture, sweetheart."

A giggle slips out of you and his ears prick forward, eyes narrowing. He rips the pillow away and you can't help the huge smile on your face. He snarls and you shiver.

"You are going to pay for that."

"Ahhh wait! I'm sorry!" You squeak.

He slips out of you and you whimper at the feeling of suddenly being empty. He fists his cock, precum coating his palm and fingers. The insides of your thighs are slick too.

"Turn over. On your hands and knees," he bites out.

Oh shit. You've really done it now. You turn over a little reluctantly.

"Head on the couch. Yeah, just like that." He admires your ass for a moment, and you feel the couch shift behind you.

"Vale?"

He grabs your hips and yanks you back against him. Your hands scrabble against the couch for purchase and you shriek when he impales you on his cock. Your breath is knocked out of you when he pulls out and thrusts back in. The stretch is almost too much and you struggle to keep yourself up under him as his weight forces you down. His hips snap forward at a brutal pace and you have to grab the arm of the couch in an attempt not to fall over. He ruts into you and you wonder how it'll be when he's fully in heat. This is already almost too much to handle.

"Slow down," you beg, even as the pain starts to warm up into pleasure.

Sitting and walking is going to be hell tomorrow.

He grabs your hips and hauls you back onto his cock, hissing dirty words in your ear about how much you like this and how you complain but you're wet enough for both of you to hear it. You moan in response, arching back into him, giving in.

"There we go," he praises, yanking you up onto your knees, a hand circled lightly around your throat.

You reach down to play with your clit and help yourself along. From the way his thrusts get erratic and his growls get deeper, you know he's about to cum.

"Not... Not inside me okay?" You groan. "You can't."

He's too far gone into himself to listen. You attempt to do it yourself by pulling away. He slings an arm around your belly, holding you captive against him.

"I'm sorry, I have to. I can't stop."

"That's no excuse,' you grumble, but you're already resigned to your fate because you knew it would be like this.

"Come on, play with yourself, sweetheart. Cum for me. You can do that, right?" He murmurs against your ear.

You nod, bouncing along with his thrusts. You slip your hand between your thighs, touching your clit just the way you like. Orgasms are a moment of blissful ignorance for you and Vale takes advantage of it to force you onto his knot. You muffle a scream into your palm as your pleasure racks up a notch. Vale whimpers and bites his palm to spare you his teeth, grunting as his cum pours into you. Some of it would have spilled out if you weren't locked so tight around his knot. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ear and rubs your belly as you both catch your breath.

"You cheated," you point out, limp in his arms. "You're lucky I like you otherwise you'd be getting a talking to."

"Mmhmm." He sinks back against the couch with you on his lap, purring contently.

You relax against his soft body and close your eyes, basking in the afterglow. You feel a gaze on you and open your eyes to see Quyne in the doorway.

"The table is set!" He notices your predicament and smirks. "Oh, never mind then." He turns and disappears.

"Can you bring me a plate?" You beg.

Quyne reappears with a full plate of food. "I can do better than that. Poor baby, you look exhausted."

He settles on the couch to feed you, and he even lets Vale have a few bites.

[secondtolastfr]

i definitely have hopes for a fat, stout dragon a la snappers and bogsneaks, but i'd also like to see a proper Bird dragon. like that would offer some snout variation, and the body could have a feathery texture kinda like how tundras have fur. the closest we have are skydancers, but they just don't feel Bird enough to me, yknow?

a while back i jokingly suggested a cockatrice dragon as the neutral ancient (also available through baldwin) and i still have hopes for something like that. because it would be funny, and neat, and i love feral weird-looking little guys.

[hollyisanonymous]

sits on da floor... can u share some of the wof thoughts here that u told us earlier? it was good soop and we want to hoard more of them in our brain :]

WOF THOUGHTS YIPPEEEEEE

so here's various tribe biology headcanons for the wings of fire book series <3 my beloved hehe

(just the pyrrhia tribes for now!)

sandwings -

tend to be on the bigger size, built like a canid or a big cat. They have fairly long legs and they walk with their talons spread wide to distribute their weight more evenly on the sand

they often have darker scale patterns along their face, specifically under their eyes. it helps with the glare from the desert sun!

they have heat-pits in the front of their snout like a viper. they also have excellent night vision.

they tuck and curl their tail barbs as a courtesy thing. while an accidental nick wouldn't be immediately lethal for another adult dragon, it's not a fun experience to get stung.

they aren't exceptionally endothermic either; they are able to regulate their own body temperature more than strictly cold-blooded animals, but do struggle more in cold climates.

their bites are slightly venomous.

mudwings -

big guys. wide-stanced and built like a brick shithouse. they're fat and bulky and very very stout.

it's common for them to have tusks! they root around and forage in clay and mud deposits.

the most exothermic of all dragons. they aren't fully cold-blooded, but it is much harder for them to maintain their own body temperatures on their own

they sleep in big piles because of that fyi

they're built like crocodiles, bovines, and bears.

not super articulate digits or mobile forelimbs - they're built for robust sturdiness and that means their stance and gate is not super compatible with fine detail work. this kinda leads into the stereotype that mudwings are dumb - most of them can't write common script easily.

seawings -

fully aquatic at this point. they *can* exist terrestrially, but they are heavily adapted to the ocean.

short and stout, with low-set, streamlined bodies and short limbs.

their teeth are kind of like a seal's, but they have an additional row like sharks

they have the most trouble with rearing up and using their hands for things, since their legs are so short, so they use their tail to compensate (basically just leaning against or sitting on it)

primarily piscivores. sometimes they'll also grab a sea-bird or other small animal from the shore.

baby seawings actually can't breathe above water for the first month or so of their life. their lungs are very frail and cannot handle it.

extremely endothermic. they're like seals!

icewings -

actually fairly closely related to nightwings, but have a lot of similar adaptations as seawings because they're semi-aquatic!

they rattle their spine-rack on their neck as a threat display, but they can also use those thin spikes to make little songs!

eerily similar to nightwings in build. like boil them down and they're basically the same base creature.

actually endothermic - they need to be able to regulate their body temperature in such a way that their organs are able to function fully while maintaining a low enough internal temp that their frost-breath works. it's a very delicate balance, which is why you can drop scalding water or red-hot metal on an icewing's chest and neutralize their breath weapon for a short period of time.

they have very articulate digits on their hands

nightwings -

kinda like icewings but without the cool fun winter theming.

ambush predators, they're built like cats.

wider eyes, excellent night vision, but not particularly "expressive". they also have big, sensitive ears. nightwings are built for nocturnal life enitrely.

rainwings -

big ears and flappy frills - rainwings are very expressive, social creatures.

they're more exothermic. they need to take naps in the sun to feel Well.

infant rainwings struggle with color-changing, often picking specific colors that they linger on. they also don't have as much control over it as an adult

their fangs protrude outwards like a spitting cobra. even when the mouth is closed, it's common for rainwings to have their fangs poke out of their lips

it's a massive compliment to "copy" the colors of someone you love. they do this as a bonding thing, but close friends, family and lovers will often incorporate each other's colors into their resting palette.

all rainwings have their own "default" colors that they're genetically disposed to, but they often also choose some of their own as an adult.

rainwings are very closely related to skywings.

skywings -

often use their wings to walk around and balance on (like pterosaurs)

they are the most endothermic of all of them.

built for long-distance soaring and diving; skywings have huge wingspans, long tails, and strong chest and shoulders to connect their wing muscles.

they have articulate talons and long limbs

they trill and chirp like birds

they have long, feathery ears.

they have fantastic eyesight. arguably the best of all tribes.

[bizarrebuns]

"Princess Loppity Lop" - San Francisco, CA

One of those creatures so formless it takes a new shape at every angle. Princess where's your nose??

[odddogs]

wide head but a very petite muzzle, always a fun combo

not to mention those TINY little stompers

(source)

[jades-typurriter]

Tiger Pox

This is a smaller one I did for fun after a friend of mine designed a cute tiger girl (and then another one, and then another one). Vee doesn't have an account that vee'd like tagged, so I'm going to credit the concept (and accompanying art) to Bowsiosaurus =3

CW: we tf into cute tiger girls yaaaayyyyy =^w^=

“So, the strategy that’s been getting more and more popular is to Terastalize one of your Pokemon into a Dragon-Type, and then have a Mold Breaker Haxorus use Dragon Cheer—”

“OHO,” yowled the ewe. “Because Mold Breaker lets the effect stack more than once, even when the target usually wouldn’t be affected!”

“Exactly!” replied the stout sea serpent. “The most common setup has been Gholdengo with Make It Rain.”

“Oh, okay,” Jade mumbled between bites of her street-corner hot dog. “Why is Gholdengo so strong, again?”

She and Bowsie had spent the afternoon trawling the displays of their town’s shopping plaza, and now leaned up against a building along the main thoroughfare to take a break before continuing. The impassioned, excited discussion about the finer points of the competitive metagame carried for a block or two in either direction, even rising above the crowd noise from the rest of the shoppers.

“Well, on top of being a Steel-Type, it’sssss… Um, it’s um…” Bowsie’s eyes seemed to unfocus as Jade listened. No, not unfocus—focus on something further behind her. She turned over her shoulder to look, and straightened up when she saw a shapely tiger woman strutting down the sidewalk toward the two of them. She towered over even Jade; the confident click, click, click, click of her high heels on the pavement were like a metronome, setting the pace of Jade’s tail as it swished like a cat preparing to pounce.

As Bowsie struggled to rediscover ver train of thought, head swiveling to follow the woman as she approached, Jade coyly waggled a paw up at her. She glanced their way, sending a cold, thrilling jolt through each of their chests, and briefly flashed her teeth at them. As she passed, her tail skimmed gently across both of their snouts, a clearly well-practiced tease to rile up what must have seemed, to her, as an adorably out-of-their-depth pair of spectators. Bowsie, of course, lost all hope of recovering ver composure; ver bouncy snout was a dark blue all over, and ver flippers shot up to cover ver eyes in an effort to hide how flustered vee was. Jade, on the other hand, interpreted the gesture as reciprocation of her flirty little greeting, and was about to call after the woman with a quip about “touching fluffy tail”.

Something stopped her, though—she suddenly felt warm, and it struck her as more than simply blushing. She tugged at her collar, cartoonishly “awooga” as it seemed, given the circumstances, and realized that it didn’t just feel tighter: her clothes were getting tighter. Her chest (which, admittedly, had always been mostly fluff) was starting to stretch out her top, so much so that it began to bare a little bit of her midriff. Her skirt began to ride up as her hips took up more and more of the room underneath.

She looked over at Bowsie, whose scales shimmered with a layer of sweat—except where they had been replaced by big, poofy patches of bright-orange fur! Vee was shooting up like a rocket, too. Before Jade’s eyes, vee went from a whole head shorter to nearly at eye level; something told her that the only reason she hadn’t been overtaken yet was that she had been subtly stretching skyward as well. The serpent’s tail stretched and thinned as the fur inched along its length, losing its characteristic, reptilian taper in favor of a uniform thickness and a round, soft-looking tip. The black stripes crisscrossing the islands of fur seemed to knit themselves together as they bridged the gap, everywhere except for ver stomach: just like before, it was a lighter color compared to the rest of ver.

Her attention was finally wrenched back from her companion as she heard buttons begin to pop and fabric begin to rrrRRRIP. She looked down and saw that the new gaps had revealed stripes of her own, her wooly fleece slowly straightening and stiffening into a dense layer of white fur that exploded out through her top’s once-respectable neckline. Her mane grew even less manageable than usual, fluffing up so much that it fell around her face as she examined herself; her hooves softened into round, blunt, padded paws, big enough to appropriately cushion her quickly-growing frame. As the last of her own stripes were freed from the tatters of her clothes, she looked out over the mountainous fluff of her chest to see her equally-well-endowed friend looking expectantly back at her, arms crossed in an affectionately-impatient little huff that accentuated her new assets.

“Oh, uh… I’m sorry, were you waiting for me?”

“You were wheeling again, Jade!” 

“M-my bad! I just got a little distracted, is all. It’s just…” She fiddled with her paws for a moment, looking down at the ground, before glancing furtively back up at her friend. “Do you think that pretty lady might’ve l-liked us?”

“Us?” Bowsie scoffed, tilting her chin up smugly. “Bestie, of course she liked us! We’re catches. I bet we could catch her if we left now, but honestly? I’m kinda hungry.” Jade glanced down at a discarded hot dog laying near her on the street. Not the kind of thing she would usually go for, but Bowsie had a point—they’d been walking around all day, after all!

“Do you think they have a pumpkin spice flavor at the bubble tea place?”

“I think I saw it on their sign!”

“Yaaaaayy!” the white tiger cheered quietly. “It’s my favorite… that’s why winter is my favorite time of year!”

“It’s your favorite time of year ‘cause you have all that fluff, girl! Not everybody’s as well-insulated as you. Makes it harder to spot you, too!”

“That part is a little comforting…”

“Well, I’m happy for you, but I love being easy to spot. Why do you think that girl was smiling at me before, huh?”

“Hush!” Jade giggled, playfully nudging the orange tiger’s shoulder. “You know how loud you are. She might hear you!”

“I hope so! Then I can invite her to the tea place with us!”

“So I can third wheel for the two of you?”

“Well, you’d better get walking if you don’t want me to take off and hunt her down! C’mon!”

TY for reading! Here's a little epilogue, as well as the designs on their own. If you're interested in more of my writing you can have a look here and here!'designs on their own. If you're interested in more of my writing you can have a look here and here!

[bxtonpxss]

@rathalascendant said: Curious, Ratha sniffs the strange creature that his rider has recently befriended. The monstie slowly inches his snout closer, until he is practically in Thor's face . . . then, deciding that he was safe, rubs the top of his head against the Raichu's cheek—ah, careful, Ratha! You might get shocked!

Thor would blink at the larger reptile, nostrils flaring as he sniffs the other right back. Then, he keeps perfectly still as the other inches closer, eyes nearly crossing once they're face to face. It's his first time interacting with them and he's not sure how this might go.

Instinctively his stout frame tenses, but when all he gets is a large head rubbing against his cheek, the rodent relaxes a bit. Brightly furred cheeks brush against dark scales as Thor tilts his face a bit so he could properly nuzzle Ratha's head. They'd be fine as long as he wasn't too rough!

[visage-of-hell]

Starter for @radioiaci: The night had scarcely begun, and already Visage was up to her neck in bullshit. Word had gotten back to her from Carmilla that Voxtek surveillance cameras had been discovered throughout her facility during the meeting with the other Overlords days prior. While none had been found within hearing range of Miss Carmine's private office, an adjacent hallway had been found with a camera angled towards the office door--enough to know who was coming and going from there. As one such 'visitor' to her office recently, it was far from an unreasonable assumption that at the very least, she was now a person of interest to the Vee's. Not a favorable position to find herself in, as a newly-established Overlord. Leaving nothing to chance, she already had her boys in the process of searching the entire club top to bottom, on the off chance that she had received similar treatment. She sat upon one of the lounge cushions at the far end of the main club lobby, trying to keep up the appearance that nothing was amiss. Business as usual ... and business was good. After all, the club was already crowded less than an hour after opening, drinks flowed freely, and her girls were putting on stellar performances on stage. What could be better than that? Quite a lot, in truth--such as not having a bullseye painted on her back less than a week into her new role. But as that was no longer a luxury she had, all she could do was play the game with as stout of a poker face as she could manage. Her time as a bounty hunter had taught her long ago that those that acted like prey were treated like it. Though the stage she stood upon had changed, the performance expected of her had not. An agitated sigh escaped her as she took a sip of her drink, noticing one of her hellhound mercenaries already returning. "I know for a fact you ain't finished scoping this place out yet. Get your ass back out--" "The Radio Demon is here, Boss..." The sudden interruption of her subordinate would normally be answered with swift anger, but given the nature of his words and the tone of urgency with which they were given ... no such correction would be forthcoming this time. Visage's silver eyes went wide for the briefest of moments, a surge of ice running through her veins. Even a newcomer on the scene like her knew the fearsome reputation of Alastor. Indeed, she had already had the dubious 'pleasure' of meeting him in person mere days before at Carmilla's estate. While they hadn't spoken directly, the piercing intensity of his stares had unnerved her greatly. And now he was here, on top of everything else she already had going on? Great ... just great. Swiftly composing herself, her clawed fingers pitched the bridge of her snout with a long slow exhale. ".....Right. Send him my way and then make yourself scarce. You still got work to do."