#oh it has a tail too. like a cat. you don't need a reason this is dsaf

[petpetpinixy]

happy birthday to me

[alchemistc]

"Hey, so, if you could tell your roommate to stop sending me incomprehensible Millennial memes every time I ask him a question, I'd appreciate it," Ravi says, and Buck stares at the prongs of his fork to prevent himself from jamming them into Ravi's hand just long enough for Ravi to notice the way the table has gone silent. There's no way they didn't notice the emphasis, right?

"I'll, uh... make a note," Buck says, and dives back in to his spaghetti. It's been a long day. He's reheated his lunch-dinner three times already. And now he sort of desperately wants the klaxons to go because...

Because it's weird that he never told them where he was living now.

Weird that they never asked.

"You have a roommate?"

Buck is 34 years old. Buck broke his own lease to help a friend only to be ceremoniously kicked out just months later, no notice, more interaction with Chris than Eddie as he furiously repacked boxes and stuffed them in his Jeep like a madman. Buck has terrible credit and a desire to set down roots that no one seems to give a shit about, except -

Roommates lasted for a month and a half at best. If he doesn't count the lingering glances, or the lingering touches, or the lingering feelings that blew up in their faces the harder they tried to tamp them down.

Ravi just thinks it's funny to keep calling them roommates.

("Like the Vine, you know?"

"Doesn't know a single 3OH3 song but he knows Vine," Tommy had said, three and a half beers deep and kicking at Ravi's leg from his lounger on the patio of their backyard.

"Oh, my cousin sends me TikTok compilations of them."

"I don't understand half the words you two are saying," Buck had chimed in, and gotten Tommy's lazy half-smile, a hand curled around his ear, and Ravi's "If you guys are gonna do more of that I'm calling an Uber.")

"Not exactly," Buck says, and tries to send Ravi a death glare. Ravi's too busy staring at the ceiling with his chair tipped back like he's daring Buck to kick his foot out enough to catch on a leg.

They're all surprised by the news, like they've done a damn thing to find out anything about his life in the months since they shut down any attempt he'd made to reach out.

He's glad he's found a way to let himself be mad at them for that.

He's glad his entire life no longer hinges on making sure they know every intimate detail of that life.

Still. The longer they stare at him, waiting for more, the more he realizes this was...maybe an oversight.

Probably should have told them before he and Tommy stuck a For Sale sign on his bedframe at the curb and been rewarded for their manipulation when someone stole the thing within like, three hours. They'd been too lazy to take it to the dump. Too lazy to sell it on Marketplace. Too caught up in the bubble of 'stay as long as you need' turning into 'do you want to be on the mortgage I need to know by Friday'.

Ravi's slept in the guest room more than Buck ever stayed at Tommy's, before.

He's made friends with Goose, too, which Buck thinks is a little unfair because Tommy's half blind cat still sticks her tail in the air to walk away any time Buck enters a room.

"Whoops," Ravi says like this was anything but intentional.

("Are you hiding the fact that you're in a happy relationship with a dude who loves you like, a weird amount for any particular reason?"

"It's not weird. It's a normal amount!"

"If I called him right now with a Buck related emergency how long until he had a bird in the air for you?"

"...he's at work right now so like, seven minutes tops.")

When the silence just keeps stretching, he barely manages to dodge the garlic bread Buck tosses at his face before the table erupts into chaos.

[holnnetd]

Let's talk literature.

Nvm, just have some more Hare!König because fuuck, I need his silly little tail and pretty soul-less eyes and those legs. OMFG

Legs.

Hare!König has some strong legs canonically, but FUCK Hare Hybrid!König crushes unripe watermelons like it's a grape between his fingers with those thighs.

Talking about those legs of his. Hare!König would in any situation where he sits, want you to step between those legs of his. He'd love to have your legs barely brushing against his huge legs. He doesn't strike me as a lap-straddling guy, no, he's more open for you to sit on his thigh and look at him smash some guys on his switch.

Hare!König enjoys being licked. Why? Hares get licked as a sense of dominance. While cats do the opposite, they lick to assert dominance. He strikes me awfully as someone who'd want you to rest on him and pepper him with kisses, being licked in any shape of form is just a way of making him feel manly and boosting his ego.

Hare!König sleeps barely covered. Unlike bunnies, hares don't dig themselves into the ground, but make shallow little holes and sleep in those, making them look like they are playing hide & seek while failing miserably. He does that too. Even if you cover him up at night he will kick his cover off of his body and wake up without anything covering him. His shirt? Whole chest uncovered. Pants? One pant is up to his thigh while other down, waistband exposing a good majority of his v-line.

Hare!König that's just so ridiculously horny for no reason. He cums too fast, really. God forbid he gets those hands of his on your body. One squeeze of your ass and he's already semi-hard, tip red and angry. Send him a picture in lingerie or nothing at all? He's fisting himself there on the spot. That comes from the "heat" all around the year aspect. He basically has the horniness level of a teenager that discovered how to search up "big boobs" on their mom's laptop.

Hare!König that really likes eating greens. Refuses to touch a carrot, but loves to eat a whole bowl of salad with tomatoes and vinegar sauce. Drop in some olives and he could eat it all day long. Low-key prefers greens over meat, but keeps a very strict one to one ratio so he stays big and strong. Ridiculous mommies boy.

Hare!König who enjoys sweets. So, so much. REALLY loves pastries with fruits in them. Give him some warm apple pie with a scoop of ice cream and he's sold, ready to pop a ring out of nowhere and get on his knees. Maybe lock you to show off that you're the dominant one from now on. You can bake? You two are practically married. Cozy little partner that makes cakes and cookies and bread and oh... Please don't tell him more, he couldn't possibly handle the fact you are even more perfect then you are.

[leashybebes]

blue and gold outtake

for @kissmyashes who wanted to know what buck and gina talked about on their trip to the taco truck in chapter 13.

"So," Gina says, keeping her eyes on the road. "You and Tommy, huh."

Buck, feeling sun-baked, salt drying on his skin from splashing about in the water with her, looks over.

"Oh," he says. "Is this the shovel talk?"

She shoots a narrow eyed glance at him. "Does it need to be?"

"I-I don't think so? I just figured if it happened, it'd be Sal."

Gina laughs and swats his shoulder. "Nah, he's a pussycat."

Buck gives her a sceptical look and she shrugs one shoulder.

"Mangy, one-eyed dumpster cat with a crooked tail," she amends. "But y'know. That's my guy."

They hit traffic and she huffs a sigh.

"Fuckin' LA. But it gives us time to talk."

"So it is the shovel talk?"

"Nah. Look, I love Tommy. Love the guy. But there's a reason he gets on so well with Sal."

"What's that?"

"He's an idiot," Gina says, flat but somehow still affectionate. "He told us some about what happened before. When he walked out on you."

"Oh," Buck says. "It's - yeah, that sucked. But we're good."

"Yeah, he told us that, too. I'm just saying. You ever think it looks like he's getting ready to run again, you call us, okay? We're world experts in not letting Tommy walk away from people who love him. I'll send Sal over to beat some sense into him if I have to."

"Oh," Buck says again, more touched than he expected. "Thank you."

She shrugs and pulls into a parking spot across from a taco truck with a decent queue of people outside.

"The trick with him is you just gotta get your claws in deep and not let him wriggle."

"Got it," Buck says with a grin. "Tacos are on me. Call it a trade for the insider info."

"Hey, I'm not arguing that," Gina says, tucking her arm through his and pulling him towards the truck. She barely reaches his shoulder, but she's a powerhouse of a woman and Buck is fiercely glad that Tommy has her in his corner.

[erose-this-name]

humans are not the default race

In every scifi and fantasy setting with """races""", humans are the default.

If you're lucky, we're the short-lived, fast-reproducing pests that are all white Europeans for some mysterious reason, and also have disproportionate rates of being raised as undead because we can't be bothered to make zombie dwarf minis or animate a vampire gnome that has to jump up to bite a tall person's neck.

(We've got BOTH human AND elf skeleton warriors! Oh, hey, I just changed the scale, now it's a hobbit skeleton OR a giant skeleton! Such skeleton diversity! No, Khajiits can't be bone boys, a skeleton with a tail and a cat skull is just TOO SPOOKY)

I feel like a lot of people don't realize that we (Homo sapiens) have the longest running endurance of any land animal. Being able to run a marathon is not normal.

(It's because we evolved the very unusual hunting strategy of Slowly Chasing Gazelles While Throwing Sticks At Them Until The Gazelle Collapses From Exhaustion Then Casually Walking Up And Bashing Their Head In With A Rock™).

Even Neanderthals probably couldn't match our tenacity (they were considerably stronger and tougher though, but by no means dumber judging from the size of their brain cavities{which was bigger than ours actually})

(the evolutionary Neanderthal hunting strategy was probably something like Jumping Out And Stabbing A Wooly Rhinoceros With A Pointed Stick, Then Getting Punted 12 Feet Into a Tree But Getting Right Back Up And Doing It Again Until It Dies Because You Have Superhuman Bone And Muscle Density. And If You Do Break One Of Your Unbreakable Bones Your Homies Will Take Care Of You Until It Heals™

[Neanderthal skeletons are found with healed fractures surprisingly often despite said bones being much stronger and denser than ours, they just kept evolving denser bones until they couldn't even swim without sinking like a rock, but they still got broken all the time])

So given that we, Homo sapiens, actually literally used to be the "species that specializes in sheer endurance, determination, and unbreakable fucking will", I want more fantasy and scifi settings where we are that way! I think the only setting where that's even remotely the case is Undertale. We're not just the "default" intelligent species!

The only reason we're good at everything is because we can make complex tools and can learn and aren't bound by instinct. Which, by definition, all fantasy races would also be able to do. Otherwise, they'd just be considered animals. Like trolls or Redditers.

The "default" species should just be really good at making tools and quickly adapting, but kinda suck in every other category. So I guess gnomes or goblins are the default d&d race.

And Humans are certainly not the Tolkien "that one race that lives short lives and reproduces faster than everyone else and is good at farming" because:

A) we actually do already live relatively long lives for mammals of our size and also GIVING BIRTH CAN KILL US, AND IF OUR PARENTS DON'T RAISE US JUST RIGHT THAT CAN ALSO KILL US, WE ARE SPECIFICALLY VERY BAD AT REPRODUCING

B) we are in no way adapted to farming, and most of our modern health and societal issues stem from the fact that we aren't meant to farm or be civilized, but do it anyways.

We only farm because it helped us survive the ecological collapse at the end of the ice age, now we're in too deep to go back.

When the ice age ended (quite abruptly) the ecosystem couldn't provide for hunters and gathers anymore, a bunch of things were getting heat stroke, sea levels rose, hibernation and bloom cycles and reptile gender ratios were out of wack, predators died out because herbivores died out because plants weren't doing well. Decomposers like vultures and worms had a field day (Until they didn't [RIP condor population]). It would take a while for a new ecological equilibrium to emerge and for evolution to fix things.

But farming doesn't need any healthy ecosystems except for the soil and pollinators, mostly, so that still works. And farming makes more food meaning you can have more people. So now there's more people.

But that also means you can't ever go back to foraging without all those extra people dying of starvation. So, anarcho-primitivism would technically be the most deadly ideology if implemented, and therefore is not based, unfortunately. Here's hoping for an apocalypse to do that for us! (I would not survive it)

Fun Fact: those isolated tribal societies like the Sentinelese that still do hunting and gathering only spend 15-20 hours a week doing that and another 20 doing camp chores, and the rest of their time forming meaningful relationships and not being depressed.

Notice how most of what they do as "work" (hunting, fighting, hiking, berry/mushroom/etc picking, cooking, camping, arts and crafts, oral history/story telling) are things that we need to do during our limited free time as "hobbies" just so that our "work" doesn't drive us insane. Thus leaving less time for relationships, etc.

If we were actually good at farming or industry or civilization, then things like math and repetitive manual labor wouldn't be work. They'd be the most fun activities.

Sure, these foragers die young, but so did medieval peasant farmers who were even less healthy since they had much less diverse diets (a lot of carbs) and got plague more often thanks to cities and their close proximity to livestock. Our modern sedentary lifestyle is bad too.

Hobbits are suited to farming (also Entwives I guess). Hobbits are quite good at it, at the cost of not being as good at much else (besides going unnoticed and throwing for some reason), they inherently enjoy farming life quite a bit and most* aren't haunted by the sense they should be anything else, like we are. *(The Took family got that Call To Adventure 'tism)

We only think that we're not special or can't be anything other than what we currently are because we no longer have anything else to compare ourselves to. The Neanderthals and Denisovans died out tens of thousands of years ago and the fucking aliens are somewhere, presumably

We are special, only we survived.

But at the cost of becoming the species equivalent of an abandoned child raised by wolves. We fantasize about these things because we all know that we shouldn't be alone. But our perceptions of ourselves are twisted by our trauma and lack of socialization.

Personally, the realization that having lost our family was probably our fault makes that hurt so much worse.

[jweekgoji]

[BW] Yandere!Dinobot/Reader [hcs/thoughts]

tw/tags: heat cycle, yandere themes, mentions of stalking, jealousy, possessiveness, a tinyy bit suggestive. word count: ~700 a/n: born to obsess over underrated characters forced to yap about the popular one (but I'm joking, I love them all, I'm just sad that Beast Wars is not talked about as much as other shows).

some quick thoughts in between requests because if I don't express it now, i will forget about it.

okay hear me out on...yandere Dinobot. I know Beast Wars is not really popular in the fandom, but oh my god, this ugly handsome man

we all saw that maximals/predacons share those animalistic traits that are connected to their beast modes. Rattrap likes to chew on scrap, Cheetor acts like a cat and even meows, Tigatron considers white tigers as some kind of family; Tarantulas and Blackarachnia have that rivalry for obvious reasons (bad for him).

it would be funny if they also had some type of cybertronian heat cycles.

even though Dinobot is heavily influenced by Jurassic Park velociraptors, I still feel like he'd act like a big bird rather than a lizard. or something in between, of course.

Yandere!Dinobot is overprotective and snappy as hell, to the point he considers even other maximals as a potential danger to you. Unlike more rational bots, Dinobot has no shame at all. It would cost him an arm and a leg to admit it to you, but he's actually jealous. Of what? There's no need to find any reason to explain his behavior once the season starts.

Yandere!Dinobot is vocal; he will growl, hiss and snap his teeth at anyone who tries to approach his mate. All maximals know that it's not the time to come near the two of you, but the unrespectful predacons...I'm a sucker for duos, their possibilities, and to imagine the dynamic between Megatron/Dinobot, both trying to court the poor reader.

But once the two of you are alone, I can see him having those rare moments where Dinobot lets himself relax. Most of the time he's in a constant state of alert, the dangerous mix of his primal instincts and  that warrior code of his just tells him to take you somewhere far-far away, so no maximal or predacon will get you. So maybe he can rest just for a little with you next to him. Dinobot definitely makes soft purrs, even to his own surprise.

Yandere!Dinobot is a stalker. Maybe, when it's just the start of the relationship between the two of you, he will try to somehow justify it, at least. Like, “I am just testing your skills, a true warrior must be always alert. You don't know when the predacons attack you next” , but the more you grow closer to him, the more he lets himself be a tiny bit warmer to you “You should not wander off alone. Stick closer to me”.

Read it, and don't forget a little personal nickname he has for you, which he adds at the end of the sentence.

It will also be funny to imagine Dinobot being a little too invested in building a nest. It also gets more awkward if your beast mode is some far different species. Why would he need to collect your stuff from your room? And why is he so adamant about you always staying in his room? He is holding you so tightly that you practically have no chance but to stay. So clueless!

“Is that [...] from my quarters?”

“Just be quiet and start recharging, you irresistible fool!”

Dinobot himself is a little embarrassed too if you start asking too many questions. He doesn't like being all vulnerable, even though he trusts you very much to know that you will never make fun of him. His own mind is clouded with not so innocent thoughts, and it actually becomes a big problem when he tries to focus on his training or fighting.

I don't think Dinobot would try to attract you with those silly dances reptiles/birds do to impress their mates, but when he is in his beast mode, you can definitely notice his tail wagging just a little bit when you're around. Rattrap probably picks on it faster than you and teases Dinobot about it until the two start fighting again.

[vampcubus]

imagine playing with dbz!vegeta’s tail while pegging him, pretty boy’s gonna be in heaven but would rather die than admit that <3

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!vegeta, afab gn!dom!reader, pegging, tail pulling, finger sucking bc i apparently can't escape that kink, brat -> fuckslut pipeline with a single gesture.

It isn't often you have the privilege of seeing your fiesty Saiyan prince splayed at your mercy like this, bent over and vulnerable to attack and yet begrudgingly eager to fuck himself back onto your plastic cock. His reddened face is deliberately hidden in the sheet that threatens to tear in his iron grip, but his rear is elevated, knees parted to present his toned ass to you.

"You're so cute when you get shy, 'geta," you purred in an octave that makes his heavy and neglected cock twitch between his legs. He sputters and growls in humiliation, though the frantic back-and-forth motions of his hips are no gentler.

"Shut up," he spits through clenched teeth, though it holds only a fraction of its usual bark as his brain turns to mush. "D-don't call me that, idiot." He cries out as your hips snap against his sharply, the toy striking that spot that makes his knees tremble and buckle.

"Oh, my mistake, my prince," you mocked, and for some reason he groans instead of hissing out another insult. It's not his fault, you're forcibly fucking the sense out of him. "No need to get hostile. After all, I'm treating you good, aren't I?"

Vegeta can't even conjure a flustered lie with the way you're baring down on his prostate, strong hands holding his bucking hips in place so you could bend over him and plow into him more efficiently. You always fuck him perfectly, and even if he doesn't trust you as far as he can ki-blast you, he's helplessly attracted to you. You aren't the first to top him, just the first to keep him engaged, in-line, and sated by the end of each session.

Your chest slips and slides against his sweat-glistened back, and his twitching tail gets caught between your bodies. He faintly has the presence of mind to move it out of your way, although that that only draws your attention to the furry appendage, spelling his doom.

Vegeta is so large and imposing that the existence of his tail always makes you grin and coo. It's so cute, just like him, just like the choked noises he makes as your thrusts become bruising and rough, just the way he likes them. His chestnut-colored tail swishes and curls in midair, waving around your face like a feathered toy to a cat. An unintentional tease, and an opportunity.

A hand leaves his hip to snake around his body, stroking over the layers of hardened muscle adorning his torso to find his jaw. He half-expects you to wrap your nimble fingers around his throat and squeeze, to which he tenses and sends you a warning glare over his shoulder. You only smirk back, sliding your fingers over his kiss-bruised and bitten lips.

"Open," you command, and he grunts in protest, shaking his head.

"Stick your fingers in my mouth and I'll bite them clean off, that's a p-promise-! fuck, what are you-?" Vegeta's growl turns into a startled yelp as your free hand catches his tail in a firm grip. "You insolent- fuuuck."

You give his tail a tug, and it sends a shockwave down his spine, making his entire body tense up and then abruptly go limp. He hates how weak and helpless he's become with a single gesture, and how his traitorous cock only throbs and leaks all the more for it. It's not his fault. It feels too good to submit to you, even if his mind disagrees, his body surrenders enthusiastically.

His jaw loosens, lips parting around your digits as if in a trance and embarassingly, he moans as your fingers glide across his tongue.

The immobile state of his body only seems to amplify the feeling of your cock filling him over and over again, forcing his insides into the shape of the toy. He's ruined surely, no one else could pin him down and fuck him within an inch of his life as you do. The realization both terrifies and turns him on beyond belief.

He can't need you, it's unbecoming. But as your fingers fuck his mouth in time with your purposeful thrusts, his doubts go quiet in his mind, replaced by primal pleadings he's thankful are muffled by your digits.

He wants to cum. He wants to be filled, taken, used. He wants to please you but can never say it. Especially not to you, whom his body ignorantly has been tricked into believing you're his mate.

Mate. What a foolish notion.

Still, he is a weak Saiyan, and he is yours. So he lets go of the illusion of control, just for tonight and allows himself to be conquered.

His tail curls around your wrist in a serpentine manner, and he chews and licks at your fingers. The resulting coo and praise that spills from your wicked lips makes his eyes glaze over. "Pleathe," comes his muffled plea around your fingers, and you are filled with pride. Your grip loosens, and you caress the length of his twitching tail between your fingers, transfixed by the way he squirms and whimpers at the touch.

Your fingers retreat from his mouth, connected to his swollen lower lip by shiny drool. You tilt his head to the side, bending over him further until your lips brush over his own.

"Again. Beg again, and I'll let you cum," you proposed, and this time, he doesn't hesitate, feelings his balls tense in anticipation of an orgasm he needs before he's driven utterly insane with desire.

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ Him and his cat ♡

• Blade wasn't the type to be easily enthralled by a cute animal with big eyes and a fluffy coat... or was he?

• "Meet Sesame Cake." you show the man a picture on your phone of a cute kitty living in it's sweet skin. At the same moment, Blade's eyes open wide and seem to light up with a rare flame of genuine delight. In truth, the changes in his facial expression were almost too subtle, but as his lover, you learned to recognize them. Without a word, he turned in the opposite direction from you, and only by the corner of your eye could you catch the corners of his lips lifting in a slight smile.

• Well, apparently he had no idea what that was about at all. Oh, he had no idea for real.

• You had the opportunity to visit Herta Space Station at just the right time - there were too many critters being given away. So how could you leave without the cherished Sesame Cake, who so resembles your boyfriend?

• Upon your return home, Blade was in for a surprise. His bewilderment was indescribable — at least because it was as non-obvious as possible and there was nothing to describe — he immediately began to study the amazing creature, trying to find a way to approach it. The dawn of his eyes gazed into the abyss of the cat's eyes, both of them freezing in place, and you could have sworn that at least half an hour this tandem spent in dead silence, not moving or making a sound.

• After the successful introduction of these two, it was safe to say that they had found each other. Sesame Cake and Blade bond at an incredibly fast rate, from Sesame Cake sniffing Blade's hand every other day to constantly spending time together, a process that happens so quickly that it was impossible to notice the transition between these two points.

• Sesame often gets into all sorts of trouble, Quite like his owner. You can be sure that Blade is the first to come to the rescue, inspecting the kitty for any signs of injury and then carefully bandaging the cat's tail, which suffers in such situations more often than not.

• Since Blade needs something to cuddle in his sleep, he now often enlists Sesame's help if you're suddenly not around. On the busiest days, when you go to bed later than he does, a sleepy realm of sweet peace looms over the bedroom, with Blade's arms wrapped around Sesame's rounded form, cradling it closer to himself like a pillow. Surprisingly, the man would rather bring his pet to bed with him than his own dearest sword.

• The cat itself, while equally fond of snoozing on both you and Blade, prefers to fall asleep between both of his owners when given the opportunity.

• Sesame Cake will definitely give Blade more reason to be jealous... except that he'll be jealous of everyone indiscriminately. If you suddenly start petting the kitty, excluding Blade from the picture, he'll experience two layers of jealousy at once - both of you, because Sesame chose you over Blade, and of the cat, because you, as if nothing happened, take ignoring the man as a fact, trading your dear boyfriend for fluffy cat cheeks.

• In the end, Blade has come up with a whole scheme to avoid such situations - Stellaron Hunter will immediately come to lie down on your lap by himself as soon as you take your favorite spot on the couch. This way, Sesame Cake will have to lie on top of his owner, and you'll have the opportunity to use both of your hands: Blade will get unscheduled caresses, and Sesame will be loved from all sides with stroking and scratching on the top of his skin. Two birds with one stone!

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[secondgenerationnerd]

Valentine’s Day

What’s this? A BBRae fic in 2025?! Enjoy 😘 (left on a cliff hanger if anyone wants to request the ✨spice✨)

——————

“Mama, I swear you get prettier every year.”

“Thank you, love.” Raven glances in her vanity mirror to her daughter. Emi hangs upside down in her parents’ bed, violet hair falling free from its scrunchie. Oversized Star Wars shirt that she suspects is actually her boyfriend’s tied over sweatpants. Completely at ease in her body, like her children always have been.

“I swear it’s dark magic.” Emi continues, stretching her arms to the floor.

“If I didn’t know better, Emerson Marie, I’d think you want something.”

Rather than her usual faux outrage, Emi shifts effortlessly into a panther, stretching before settling back down. Raven will never not be amazed at her family’s shifting. Violet fur sprouts along her daughter’s body, her clothes melting away. Bones shifting into the great cat’s. It once scared her—what if it hurt her babies?— but her husband reassured her it wasn’t painful in the slightest.

Tail lazily flicking in air as Emi speaks, “What has the world come to that I can’t call my mother beautiful? Without nefarious reasons?”

Familiar footsteps head towards them as Raven reaches for her kohl, “Blame your father.”

“Oh, absolutely blame me.” Gar agrees, leaning against the bedroom door, “I’ve been calling your mother beautiful everyday for 22 years and there’s always a nefarious reason.”

Rae winks at her husband, “That’s how we ended up with Emi and Eli.”

“We could always add another,” he purrs.

Their daughter’s snort, which was odd coming from her shifted form, pulls their attention to her, “Dad, you and Mama are a few months away from no kids. Do you really want to restart that clock?”

An ache starts the older heroes’ hearts. Emi had told them about her plans to move out with her boyfriend, Parker, before the end of May. Eli, never far behind his twin, had been looking for his own place. Pride’s too small a word for how they feel towards their children’s accomplishments….but time had gone too fast.

“Ugh, I can sssssssmell the pheromonesssssss from my room.” A purple scaled cobra coils its way up the bed, Eli’s voice coming from its hissing mouth. “What did you ssssssssay, Em?”

"First, the hissing? Dramatic even for you." She ignores her younger twin sticking his tongue out, "Second, just that they're almost child free."

"What do you think about another sibling, Eli?" Gar asks, now sat by his wife as she finishes her make up. Looking over her lipsticks as he always does for dates.

Shifting as easily as his sister, a now human Eli does lean into his dramatic nature, "Father, Baba, He who sired me and mine sister...The last thing this family needs is another magical shapeshifter. More importantly, I'm the baby of this family and plan to keep the title, thank you."

That makes his parents laugh. Their children have always been many things, but babies? Both children had always been fiercely independent with a love of life. The only reason they hadn't moved out sooner is a simple fact--They love their parents and the home they made.

"Somehow, better than when Wally threatens his kids with that." Raven muses, turning to face her husband. He plucks up her favorite lipstick. Gently holding her chin as he drags the color over her lips.

"Mmmm I dunno, Dad." Emi says, flicking her brother with her tail, "I'd pay to see Irey and Jai throw hands with a baby."

"Given that Irey has a baby, I doubt we'll see that." Gar snorts, blotting the lipstick before kissing Raven, "You, Rae, are gorgeous."

"Get a room." Eli groans.

Raven winks at Gar, "That's what our hotel stay is for. If you have your cousins over, please remind them we don't need noise complaints from the shouting.

"And here I was just going to invite my boyfriend over so we could have wild sex." Emi deadpans, shifting back. "Speaking of, I have my own date to get ready for."

"You and Parker going anywhere fun, love?"

"Just that new horror movie, maybe try that pop-up market after." Emi shrugs. "What about you and Dad?"

"We're meeting your Uncle Vic and Aunt Karen at Naan Stop." Raven stands, smoothing the front of her dress. The underbust corset had been a pain to get on, but she loves how it feels and looks. Gar moves to their closet, grabbing his matching button down. The rich purple color makes his green skin look jewel like...and the way he rolls the cuff up reminds her of what's under her dress. But that's for later.

"Ugh," The twins wrinkle their noses, Eli sliding off the bed. "I'm getting out of here, the pheromones are awful."

"That's hilarious coming from the biggest slut in here." Emi laughs, following her brother. Raven rolls her eyes as their children bickering fades. Strong arms wrap around her from behind. A warm kiss pressing to her neck make her turn, hands resting on her husband's chest.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rachel."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Garfield." She kisses him, smiling against his lips. How had she even denied herself the joy she had with this man? "Now, let's go. I'm starving...and you're going to need energy for later."

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Hello! I wanted to start off by saying thank you for your digitigrade humanoid references, they've been super helpful for drawing my sheep-satyr oc!

I was wondering though, do you have any resources for writing nonhuman creatures? Specifically when referencing the nonhuman aspects of them. For example I have this sentence that goes:

"I jumped to my hooves."

I don't have any frame of reference for this :/ so when I'm writing my oc talking about what she does with the sheep half of her body it sounds kind of off.

I looked on Youtube and online and just saw "Do some world building and give your nonhuman characters human traits," which isn't what I'm looking for.

Kindest Regards-

oh I am doing so much of this in my own writing. I think the trickiest part for me is that I'm trying to also add in the detail that most of the people species don't smile the way humans do, with exposed teeth and a wide mouth being more of a fear/threat response rather than a happy expression. so I keep having to force myself to describe happy expressions in different ways! this is quite challenging, for obvious reasons lol.

but beyond that, honestly I like to just focus on using their non-human body parts to help enhance their body language. my porcine orcs and gnomes wiggle their snouts. anyone with large ears can move them as an expressive body part. tails do all sorts of things!

I think using the phrase "I jumped to my hooves" works just fine! it shows the reader that your character has hooves. The hardest part of course is figuring out how to introduce the character's appearance as early as possible to avoid too much confusion. Looking at my own writing, opening on a scene of a gnomish character, I didn't mention her ears until a few paragraphs in, and her hooves didn't get mentioned until several paragraphs after that. I'm still trying to scan through and find where I introduce her snout lol. it's really hard! and sometimes just using illustrations is unfortunately not possible.

But I think as long as you remember to mention different body parts when they're relevant and using them in the general body language, you'll be just fine. A few things I've been doing with this gnomish character include:

mentioning that she catches a pebble between her cloven toes

using her snout as an expressive body part

writing scenes where she needs to have her hooves trimmed because they grow perpetually

writing scenes where she files down her tusks, because she's also a quarter orc and has some recessive genes that cause tusk growth in amab gnomes, so filing her tusks is one part of how I explore her relationship with her body and gender as a trans woman

I also have elves with long monkey-like tails, though I give them tail expression more similar to cats. Teeth can also be an important expressive body part, when applicable! baring sharp canines or moving one's head and mouth in a way that puts a large pair of tusks on full display is a great way to show things like fear, intimidation, or anger.

you can also study the body language of whatever animal you're using for reference, like sheep, and apply those details to the way you describe your character!

here is an article about sheep behaviors for reference!

and a few quotes with non-human body language from my own rough draft:

“K’arik is the one I’m worried for, not myself,” Morianon murmured, flicking his wings nervously. Evarin nodded, wrapping her arm around her husband’s waist. “I’m worried for him too.” They walked in silence, gravel and bark chips crunching under their feet as they made their way up the road. Evarin spread her hoofed toes with every step, willing a stone to catch between them. A cold pebble lodged itself in the crease between her toes just as they turned up the path to her parents’ door.

The stranger bent low, pushing their enormous three-toed feet over the threshold, ducking their head and reaching forward to pull themself inside. “What’s going on?” He-esh squinted and frowned. “Elkha, tell me what’s going on.” He tapped Th’elir’s arm, but she too had been caught by surprise and only mumbled as she tried to explain. Evarin stepped back towards K’arik, eyes wide. She glanced at her mother and saw her own shocked expression mirrored right back. As the stranger grunted and half-crawled through the low door, she saw her father escape the crowd and hurry to join her. “Can you believe—“ he whispered, but Tawei shushed him. The stranger’s body blocked the whole door as they finally fit themself through it and stood up. Even inside, they had to bend their neck to avoid the rafters, towering over the tallest orcs in the room. Four hooved feet, holding a body so heavy they sunk into the packed dirt floor. Legs as tall as a gnome. They wore layers of woven cloth, all green and brown and cedar red in beautiful leafy patterns, draped over their uncanny body that seemed to have two sets of ribs. Their arms were just skinnier versions of their forelegs, Evarin noticed. She could barely see their face in the shadows by the rafters. Morianon could see them better, perched above everyone else. His feathers shivered as the stranger noticed him, catching and holding his gaze. Their mouth was tense, their long ears laid flat against their head. Morianon glanced away and found Evarin’s eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Forgive me,” the stranger said, bringing the murmur of the crowd to a dead hush, “for not announcing my arrival ahead of time.” They walked carefully forward, every step remarkably delicate for someone so massive. “I came to deliver my herd’s respects to you, He-esh.” “Oh? Ah, no, I do know you,” He-esh sat up with Th’elir’s help, clearing his throat. “Or perhaps this is an old man’s dying dream. Are you a spirit?” he laughed, “I never thought I’d live to see a centaur enter my village. I suppose it would have to happen on the last day of my life, wouldn’t it?” He smiled up at the centaur and welcomed them forward with an open hand.

Despite the difficulty, Kouto looked oddly chipper for an early morning and sat down in a hurry, tail curling playfully.

“I remember when he was a kid,” Nanji said, shaking his head, “he had a lot of potential. Shame to see him grow up into such a stubborn and angry fellow.” He passed the tray to Jen who set it on the central table. “I hate to blame anyone but him for his change of heart, but we all know it happened after he got married and moved to that other clan up north.” “He was very annoyed that He-esh wanted to die by song instead of the usual orcish tradition,” Mori said, “Kept giving Evarin nasty looks.” He ruffled his feathers and sat a little closer to his wife. “I was too nervous to pay him any mind,” Evarin assured him. Ikar’s irritated gaze had added to the nervousness, she admitted to herself, but it had been among the least of her worries.

Leaving the bedroom, Evarin was momentarily startled by the looming figure of Ikar at the hearth. She had been in such a hurry, she hadn’t noticed him on her way in. He gave her a sideways glance, lightly swirling the cup in his hand. “At’ali’s granddaughter, aren’t you?” he muttered. “That’s right.” Evarin tensed up defensively. Ikar humphed. “You look nothing like as’el. Must take after your father’s side more.” He sipped his drink and went quiet, turning away from her. Evarin’s snout wrinkled and grew hot, but she left the house without another word, shaking off his comment and breathing deep in the fresh air.

[mychlapci]

Sorry my liege... this peasant is doing such a poor job at not clogging the royal inbox...

Absolute nonsense idea today but consider if fulcrum's k-con reframing came with cat ears and tail. The minor code alterations based on the cybercat and those additional audial receptors help them target better. They do essentially have to learn to airdive in basically no time at all, so any additional sensors really help. And honestly the only reason the choice form factor of said sensors is Cat Ears is purely for the humiliation aspect. The k-cons were set for death after all. High Command would have wanted this to be as unpleasant as possible.

Anyway I don't think it would have bothered fulcrum too much at first. He was going to be deactivated anyway like. Who cares about some cat ears.

Later tho. When he eventually wakes up again, somehow still alive... well... suddenly he's here to stay. Suddenly he has a team of sorts. And suddenly he has to deal with the mortifying reality of having these funny appendages.

Really living for the first time in a long long time, and especially having other mechs around to comment on them, he starts to realise those appendages do quite a lot of things. They move around. A lot.

The tail is so stupid. It flicks around all the time. He accidentally whacks his tail too hard on objects around him a few times and it hurts. It also flicks around when he's excited and curls around when he's nervous- It's embarrassing really.

Or maybe it wouldn't have been so embarrassing if his weird little posse didn't keep pointing them out. They really don't need to keep telling him when his tail flicks around. He doesn't need to know!!!

Misfire especially. The jet loves to tell him exactly when he sees the thing move. Its like really bad sports commentary. Oh it's swooshing!! Look it's all bristled now!! Fluffy!!! He doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know he's 'cute'

The ears are somehow even worse. They're even more closely linked to his emotions, if that was even possible. Sometimes he may look passive, but those ears give him away. Not that he would usually mind. But he does mind when misfire takes every opportunity to be like 'awwww you sad? Your kitty ears look sad'

....the only good thing about the appendages turns out to be that they do feel kinda good. Misfire loves to grab anything he can get his sticky servos on. It's no surprise when he pokes at fulcrum's ears one day, happily kicking his legs when the fluffy ears twitch.

It's stupid and annoying and fulcrum swats at misfire in hopes of getting the mech to stop. Or at least he does until the poking and prodding suddenly morphs into gentle scratching. Misfire's digits smooth over the fur and then start scratching behind his ears.

Fulcrum just melts immediately. It feels like he's lost power to all his joints. His struts cease to exist. Even the little servos that control every flick and swivel of his stupid ears relax.

He finds himself slumping onto the jet, engine purring as he struggles to keeps his optics online.

He doesn't know what's come over him but it feels good. He continues to lay against misfire even as the other's servos wander. He's stroked along the back of his helm, down his back... His engine continues to purr in contentment.

But when misfire's servo reaches the base of his back strut, stroking over the base of his tail, it's really good. It's a little bit too good. He arches a little into the touch and he hears misfire giggle. Stupid mech probably thinks it's funny.

An amused misfire is a troublesome one, usually. His digits wrap around the base of the tail and stroke, sending a shiver down fulcrum's back struts. It's kinda weird but he doesn't quite have it in him to tell misfire to stop

The digits sink lower until they press against the joint between the tail and his aft. He really should have realised this was bad when he actually pressed back into the touch, lifting his hips to push against the fingers.

By the time misfire starts massaging the base of his tail, it's too late. It's too late to realise he's been feeling the Wrong Kind of Good as he very nearly lets a needy mewl escape his vocaliser.

He would pull away- he would- but that would be suspicious now, wouldn't it? He'd let it get this far. It would be weird to suddenly jump away. That's the only reason he stays. Really. That's the only reason he lets misfire continue to push his digits into the base of his tail.

He tries his best to keep his hips still. He is Not going to start rutting against his crewmate. If he's good at anything, it's forcing joints to keep still.

It's tempting though. It's very tempting. His panels ping him incessantly to release his array, but he dismisses every alert. He tries to keep his hot little pants quiet as misfire continues to toy with his the base of his tail.

He's determined to be still. He won't be weird about this. He won't be suspicious at all-

But it turns out maybe he does too good a job at being uninteresting. He hears something crash down the hallway and misfire is immediately on his pedes, wings perking up in interest, and running towards the noise.

"Wait-!"

Fulcrum whines, suddenly alone, plating burning and array aching. At least that solves one of his problems. Kind of.

this one has been around for like a month and i honestly have 0 idea what to do about this one. All I can say is that i admire horny cat boy Fulcrum and an oblivious idiot Misfire.

Now that I'm here, actually, I wonder if Fulcrum has spines on his spike. There is no practical reason for it, but since he's already a cat boy, we can dream...

[raccoonfallsharder]

The Very Boring Adventures of

Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl ✩°｡⋆

navigation | fanfiction masterlist Domestic Scenes in Space Travel series Installment One below.

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 5/5 visits | complete | word count: 37,783.

In Rocket Raccoon: Grounded (2016) / Issue #3, Rocket asks a stranger on the ferry to "make sure nobody does anything weird" to him while he naps, and the stranger just, like, abandons him while he's sleeping?? who does that? when a stranger asks you to watch their stuff in a coffee shop, it's a holy obligation. x100 if it's a hot local space pilot trying to catch some Zs on the ferry. get in loser we're gonna fix it

reader x rocket domestic fluff & smut with feelings. comics-based but you don't need any comics background knowledge to ride this ride.

Chapter One (The First Visit). rocket evades SHIELD by hiding in your purse. ✩ Chapter Two (The Second Visit). you and rocket eat omelettes in your underwear. ✩ Chapter Three (The Third Visit). rocket finds you naked & takes care of your cat. ✩ Chapter Four (The Fourth Visit). rocket teaches you about his tail. ❤︎‬❤︎ Chapter Five (The Fifth Visit). rocket stops by for a visit. ❤︎‬❤︎

WARNINGS: feelings & domestica. smut commences in the fourth visit. dirty talk, praise, use of "slut"/"whore" (affectionate), a little bit of oral.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬ excerpt below the cut.

Fuckin adorable sweatshirt girl art by @blueberrysquire

Domestic Scenes in Space Travel series

navigation | fanfiction masterlist

That’s when you hear the screech from the hallway.

“Oh! Call Animal Control! Oh! It has rabies!”

“It is even still alive?”

“I heard it growl!”

Later, you won’t be able to say how you know.  There have been countless chaotic squirrels in the building before, and the occasional massive rat off the streets, though you suspect they all have much better reasons to be afraid of humans than vice versa. 

But you do know. Maybe it’s Mr Hobbes’ weird behavior or maybe it’s something more cosmic than that, but you know, and you grab your key off the hook and step into the corridor, still in just your bikini-briefs and a sweatshirt that almost goes to your knees.

Your gaze finds him unerringly: passed out, possibly injured, wedged in the doorway at the top of the stairwell with the heavy fire-door propped open on his ribs. 

“Uhhh,” you interrupt, pushing past your neighbors. “Sorry. Sorry. He’s my - “ you pause, thoughts colliding with each other “ - my friend.”

“Your friend?” says Josh From Down the Hall. He’s been bugging you to go out to dinner and drinks for months. “What is he, some kind of miniature furry?”

You roll your eyes and pull open the door, propping it with a hip while you try to hoist Rocket into your arms. Unfortunately, he weighs even more now - probably due to the heavy artillery on his back and at his hips, all of which makes him very awkward to carry. Geezus, one of these guns alone has to be at least as much as his body weight.  “He’s not a - “

“He must be your new cat,” says Brenda From Next Door, her voice a little doubtful. Brenda is harmless enough, though she can be annoying. “I hear millennials like to talk about their pets like they’re actual people.”

There’s way too much to unpack there and fuck. He weighs a ton. Your arms are shaking as you stagger past them. “He’s not - “

“He’s not a cat, Brenda,” Josh says rudely. “Didn’t you hear her? He’s her shrimpy, perverted boyfriend. Wasted in the friggin’ stairwell.”

You sigh. “Josh, this is why no-one wants to date you.” 

“You fuckin’ bitch - “

“Brenda, can you help me with the door?”

The older woman rushes to turn your doorknob and pushes it open for you, while also trying to stay as far away as she can from the Space Pilot in your arms. 

“Did something happen to Mr Hobbes then, dear? Is that why you got a new cat?”

Geezus. No wonder Rocket had been so exhausted of hearing people’s bullshit last time. It’s been five minutes and you’d cheerfully throttle both your neighbors. And you like to think you like people.

“Nope. He’s still alive and kickin’. Thanks, Brenda.”

You lean against the door when it closes behind you, shuffling the weight in your arms so you can slide the deadbolt and chain lock. By the time you get Rocket to the bedroom, you’re panting. Maybe the loveseat would have been the closer, better option, but you’re pretty scared you’re going to need to be able to access him from all sides. 

You rest him on the bed. Mr Hobbes is pacing in the doorway while you wipe the sweat from your brow and then tie up your hair with the elastic around your wrist. The cat meows pitifully.

“He’s gonna be okay, Hobbsie,” you mumble, looking down at your prodigal houseguest. He’s wearing some sort of jumpsuit with blood splashing up one side, but it’s hard to discern much thanks to the plethora of firearms he’s sporting. Carefully, you pick over the range of buckles and snaps and magnets holding his holsters in place. Some just look like grips, but have the weight of something much larger. You don’t know the first thing about guns, really, but you have a feeling that most of Rocket's don’t exactly have a safety.

Cautiously, you undo what you can, lifting each weapon with slow deliberation, keeping every barrel pointed away from you, from your wounded guest, and from Mr Hobbes. Probably these things can blow through sheetrock even better than regular bullets, so you lay them on the floor by the exterior wall, lined up neatly with the barrels pointed toward the brick.  

Then you’re unstrapping the harnesses, holsters, and straps of his jumpsuit. It’s been burnt in some places, torn and bloodied.

“Sorry, Space Pilot,” you say under your breath. “When you wake up, just remember that it’s not the first time I’ve seen you in your underwear.” 

read more on ao3 ✩°｡⋆

dividers & banners by @saradika-graphics | moodboards by me!

[saiikavon]

(I’ve been volunteering at a cat shelter so my brain is full of cats. Also for some reason I really like it when Kaiba is a cat, so what better way to shake off the rust from a couple of weeks of no writing? Here we go.)

Seto does not usually take this route on his walks. Strays tended to congregate more freely in alleyways where trash got overlooked. Animal control was less stringent than in nicer neighborhoods, which was a plus, but the same could not always be said for the residents in the area. Old Tanaka on his porch was more likely to throw heavy objects than Miriko-San in her cute penthouse.

But, well, Seto has little choice today. His usual route had garnered some...inconvenient attention, and he'd been forced to take a detour. As it had been said, animal control could be a bit of a nuisance in a nice neighborhood, and Seto is not keen on ending up in the pound for the evening.

Skipping his walk isn't an option, either. Spending a minimum six hours a week in animal form was necessary to keep a shifter's body healthy, a fact which Seto had drilled into Mokuba's head many a time before. Seto refuses to be called a hypocrite over a minor upset in routine.

Still, this area is...unpleasant. He has to resist the urge to shake his paws on every step, disgusted by the grimy trash stains splattered over the asphalt. He wrinkles his nose as he passes an apartment undeniably belonging to a smoker, and tries not to pay attention to the filth lining the bottom of the brick walls. Surely, he'll be taking a long, hot shower once he gets home.

And then, the worst arrives, making kissy noises like an imbecile, holding fingers with their split, dirty nails out, presumably for Seto to sniff.

Of all the neighborhoods to wind up in...

"Come here, pretty boy," Jounouchi croons, making more of those embarrassing noises, even as Seto sits in place with ears pinned back in obvious displeasure. "C'mon, kitty, it's okay. You lost, precious? You hungry?"

Seto flicks his tail. As if he needs any more reasons to want nothing to do with the idiot.

He contemplates turning away, forcing this foolish deadbeat to either continue embarrassing himself until Seto turned a corner or to leave himself, but something makes him pause. There is an earnestness in Jounouchi's eyes, a determined compassion in his gestures that he supposes may be considered benefits. Assets. There's no telling whether Seto will be forced to reroute again; why shouldn't he have someone looking out for a lonely stray in this backwards neighborhood?

Convenience, he tells himself. That's all. That's the only reason he steps cautiously forward, offering Jounouchi's dirty fingers a cautious sniff.

The idiot actually beams at the small gesture, and rubs in between Seto's ears, earning him a swipe and a hiss.

Don't touch me until you've washed your hands, you dirty mutt!

Jounouchi doesn't seem put off by the near-scratch, however; he only chuckles and leans back on his heels, still grinning. "You look like you're a long way from home. Never seen a stray around here with a coat as nice as yours. You get lost, pretty boy? Or someone dump you?"

He frowns at that. Seto's heart twinges for the concern, despite himself.

"Hey, either way, I bet you're hungry. Hope you're not too fancy for some canned convenience store tuna."

It certainly isn't Seto's favorite. But again, the earnestness gets to him, somehow. He offers little more than a slight chirp, tail flicking.

He watches as Jounouchi stands, smiling once more. "Wait here. I'll go grab you some."

Seto scoffs to himself as Jounouchi begins to turn toward the nearest building, aiming to go inside. He stands and stretches instead of waiting, following at the deadbeat's heels up the concrete steps. There is absolutely no chance he's spending a second longer out on this filthy street if he doesn't have to.

"Oh, you wanna come in?" Jounouchi's grin widens, eyes practically glittering. Ridiculous. "Well, okay, then. Sorry in advance about the mess. I haven't gotten to the laundry yet today."

There's a surprise. Seto decides not to comment with any noises on that, instead carries on following Jounouchi into his warmer, marginally cleaner apartment.

He'll have to leave eventually, but Jounouchi is, surprisingly, not so bad...perhaps, if the pattern holds, Seto might consider changing his route permanently.

So long as Jounouchi never finds out it’s him.

[spectrechosts]

Necrosis

Oh boy, a new series with all new characters, this is surely not just more of the same- hey what's that series tag?

I'm kidding it is actually about and from the point of view of new characters.

But they're there.

Full Series

Lagakh sighed and rubbed her eyes, returning to the barracks she had set up a command post in. She'd barely slept since they arrived, just in time to protect the city from the undead siege they currently found themselves under.

She took a hefty swig of her coffee, the burning bitterness sharpening her senses.

And then she entered her command post to see Ryse lounging on a bench she had moved into the window's light, and sighed and rubbed her eyes again.

"Ryse, why aren't you defending the gates?" She said, careful not to sound accusatory.

Ryse was of the beastfolk, the cat variety, which led to certain assumptions about her behavior.

Considering they domesticated them, a baffling number of people seemed to think cats were secretly plotting their downfall. Dogs are man's best friend, but cats? If you die your pet cat will eat your body! Isn't that nefarious, and not something that a dog would also do when faced with starvation and the inability to unlatch your door.

So when through some wizardly experiment a bunch of animals were given varying degrees of elevated intelligence and humanoid form but still acted like the animals they had just recently been, people were… wary of the catfolk. The dogs were obviously trustworthy; just look at them running around, tails wagging, happy to do anything you ask. The catfolk weren't doing that, and so clearly were up to something.

Ryse fell more on the large breasted maid with cat ears side of the spectrum than the talking panther that will eat your children one, sporting fur across most of her body and some strange mannerisms but still having humanoid hands to hold a bow with, and this placed her firmly into the ever popular role of the brooding ranger in most people's eyes. Capable of heroism, but only reluctantly, and only for a price.

"Oh, you know me. Didn't feel like it." Ryse hummed.

Lagakh was not most people. Ryse had surely found a thousand little spots she could hole up in and not be found until they had broken the siege, and she had instead decided to place herself directly in the path of the one person who would tell her to get back to work. She wanted to help, she just also wanted to lounge around and have it look like she didn't care.

"Why didn't you feel like it, Ryse?" She asked, moving to pore over her maps. The city was walled, and there was only one gatehouse. Half their party (minus one ranger, now) was guarding it, it was the most vital part of their defense, and if Ryse didn't want to be there she had a reason.

"Too crowded for my tastes. You know I like to work alone." Ryse said, rolling onto her stomach and letting her tail swish about.

"I also know you're one of the most capable archers I've ever met, and that gate needs all the defending we can manage."

"Oh, it has it." She continued. "The wizard and barbarian are having great fun, knee deep in gore. Anything she doesn't blast he cleaves in twain, you'd be hard-pressed to find a duo more suited to turning a crowd into charred viscera."

"Don't sell yourself short, Ryse. I've seen you sink an arrow into the eye of a gryphon in flight, pry your blade between the plates of a suit of armor none of us could even dent to slay the warlord within, you-"

"Are very impressive, I know." The cat smiled, blinking at her slowly. "Against single, high-value targets. Not endless tides of dead."

There it was.

"You find it ill-suited to your talents, then?"

"I have only so many arrows, and no desire to clean corpse gunk from my fur." She shrugged.

"Would you like to help people barricade their homes?"

"Who, me? I'd steal anything not nailed down."

The orc gulped down more coffee. Ryse positively radiated smugness. Like pulling teeth with her, sometimes.

"Do you have a suggestion for what you might find worth your time?"

"Hmmmmm~"

Ryse stalked over to her, leaning over the various maps and plans with a steadying hand on Lagakh's back.

"I'm at least as capable as the paladin at healing. Have her help with the barricades and I'll replace her helping the cleric tend to wounded. She's big enough to make easy work of it, and paladins are trustworthy." She hummed.

"Unlike you?" Lagakh asked, crooking an eyebrow.

"See, you understand."

The cat slinked away, and Lagakh was entranced enough watching her leave to clink her mug off her tusk when she went to finish her coffee.

Ryse glanced back and rolled her eyes.

"Get some sleep, boss. You seem distracted."

[gamercats-fight]

Morgana from Person 5 vs Krampy from Cattails: Wildwood Story. Vote for your fav!!

Need help picking? Check down here!

Morgana - P-Studio - 2016 - Anthropomorphic tuxedo cat:

-If we’re including his abilities in Mementos/Palaces then he has a clear advantage of being able to use his persona to cast spells as well as fight. He also uses a curved sword and a slingshot. If hurt he also has healing spells. His appearance in this form is mascot-esque, but don’t let his big head fool you—he’s quite agile. Having a persona at all grants the wielder extreme abilities. Fast enough to dodge lightning, take incredible damage and even able to fight against gods. This strength is only granted in places they can summon their persona, i.e. not the real world.

Even in his cat form while in the real world, he is extremely dexterous: able to pick locks. He’s also taken a kick from a guy and having a metal briefcase land directly on his head following a bit of a fall. Not altogether impressive but still something for a cat to endure. He’s also smarter than the average cat, giving him a nice advantage.

He does eventually become human in Persona 5 Royal, but is just a cat at the end of the original game.

-He can turn into a car and run over any competition. He’s a master thief and fought god once. Also he has a slingshot.

-1: THIS CAT IS A HEALER! He gets the best healing spell in the entire game and when I got it on him, I don't think he ever left my party

2: THIS CAT CARES ABOUT YOUR HEALTH AND WELL BEING! It's become a meme at this point, but Mona wants you to go to sleep >:(

(P5 Spoilers Beyond this Point)

3: THIS CAT IS THE COLLECTIVE HOPE OF HUMMANITY! It's explained late game, but Morgana was created through the last scraps of humanities hope against the false god that the party eventually fights

4: THIS CAT EXPOSED A MURDERER! Its not important but the scene IS funny so I feel obligated to mention it.

THIS CAT IS YOUR BUDDY AND I LOVE HIM AND WILL DEFEND HIM WITH MY DYING BREATH!!!!

-Everyone hates him for the stupid “go to sleep” mechanic + some of his issues with another character but he’s such a good boy i love him so much. he’s always with you, helping you out and supporting you! plus he’s so little brother coded oh my god. baby. baby boy. spoilers for p5: also he’s literally the manifestation of hope like guys. hope is a cat. hope is stored in the cat.

Krampy - Falcon Development - 2023 - Gray tabby medicine cat

-He's so autism

-Cattails is like Stardew Valley for warrior cat fans, and Krampy is a fan favorite for several good reasons. He's a kind of eccentric medieval doctor who also has trouble relating to other cats because of his weird experiments and love of leeches, but that passion also makes him very charming as a character. He's got a tendency to ramble and tell long stories and is just really wholesome all around. Also he wears a plague doctor mask which is just a really cool design choice.

-The iconic doctor of the Mystic Colony. Who doesn't want a medicine cat with a plague mask?? And they are a real character too. Some of their best quotes:

"“Actually, I don't believe we've been introduced. I am Krampy the doctor, and don't worry! I am not a bird. Although when I had that concussion, I did think I was... ... What was I saying again?"

“Greetings young kitten. Do you mind if I put leeches on your tail? It's for science. And, I think it would be funny. Or I could do it to myself... But then what will I do tomorrow?"

“I think you should wear a beaky mask, it will protect you in this world. I wish not to see my friends hurt. Although that is bad for business... bit of a double-edged sword. Don’t get hurt too often!”

“You have the worst-smelling miasma I have ever smelled! I can smell you from miles away! Why don't you roll in some garbage? - It can only improve your odor, and you end up where you belong!"

[chooseyourpaws]

Snailberry names you.

Snailberry squealed lightly in excitement. She gently bumped her nose to your forehead, scrunching her face in all her eagerness.

"Oh, I have the perfect name, too!" She beamed, tail trembling excitedly. One odd thing you'd noticed about her was that she tended to hold it curled over her back. She could move it, she just seemed to prefer holding it there.

Corvidcall blinked, a contemplative, serious expression on his face. He seemed to have realized something, but visibly held back from saying it.

"From this day forward, until you complete your training, you will be named... Poppypaw!" Snailberry purred, her paws patting at the ground happily.

Runnelstar let a soft laugh out, and stood with a big stretch. She started to walk over, stopping only to look at Corvidcall for his approval of her next action. He gave her a soft nod, and the aged molly padded up to you with an inquisitive look.

"In our clan, we have several paths you can take as an apprentice. There is the Seer - Corvidcall's role - who interprets prophecies and provides any advice the deputy can't give to the leader. There is the Gardener - Snailberry's role - who grows and maintains herb supplies all throughout the territories. They also heal sick and injured cats and assist in care for cats who are disabled. There's the Mediator - Greenbee's role - who helps resolve interpersonal issues and heal emotional wounds. There's the warriors, who hunt in and protect the territory, but are forbidden from leaving. Shrewcry is the head Guard, which means he organizes any defenses outside of war, and has dedicated his life to the job. The other head role is Hunter, which is Wormcurl's role. The rest of the warriors are either kittypets we've requested help from or clan cats who have no reason to specialize. Finally, there's Caretakers, who raise and educate our cats under 6 moons of age. Their head is Weaselheart, Snailberry's sibling. The only role you don't need to worry about is the Upkeep. That's Larkplume, who I'm sure you know about. Upkeep refers to cats from other clans who are being evaluated to stay or return to their home."

You patiently take all the information in, eagerly awaiting Runnelstar's question.

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