#He's like out cold and sometimes his little paws twitch

[babylonbirdmeat]

Little man Biscuit has had a DAY

[nanabrainrot]

IV. Gut Reaction [Kirtch] Kinktober

Day 4: Teratophilia, the sexual attraction to monsters

Warnings! size difference, monster fucking, alien fucking, facesitting, I gave him a ribbed/ridged prehensile tongue like an anteater/alien/cat crossover for horny reasons. @i-drop-level-one-loot is Kirtch’s creator so everyone say thank you to them.

Like a good pet, you wake him up with kisses. The collar isn’t on anymore (of course not at night, what if you were uncomfortable?) and you curl to his side in bed every night now. The weeks, months, years were passing and you were none the wiser: you measured time by how long Kirtch was gone now.

Your lips press kisses to the exoskeleton of his face, warmth greeting him in the morning with soft skin pawing at him clumsily. He was no awful owner by any means, but he was an indulgent one. You climbed on his chest, hands pressing with flat palms against the plates there - cold exoskeleton making you shiver slightly. No matter, he indulged you especially when he made room for you on his bed with the miscellaneous throws of plush, sherpa, faux fur, real fur, satins, and more from neighboring planets or galaxies’ animal pelts. The little sweet bralette and boy short sleep set are moist - the adverse reactions of you to the collar’s chemical seemed to stay in your system forever due to the dosage. Pressing a kiss to the pinchers on his cheeks you coo: “Work today?”

“Of course, little one. I got called in with incentive pay, I told you last night,” he chuckled lightly. Last night, per usual, you were out of your head and airheaded - bucking into the device he used to force orgasms out to tire you faster. Humans were sometimes prone to trouble falling asleep, which he noted dutifully to avoid or a human can be exhausted. One sleepless night was enough to throw off a human’s entire schedule!

You pouted, huffing at him haughtily. All this time with Kirtch had made you bratty, not that you knew. You were just a hedonist who survived off the attentions of your master, the one you initially hated. Now, the days without him were hard and agonizing. It was like leaving your dog at home on a daytrip.

His cold claws graze your skin and you nudge upwards, knees and hands carrying you as you crawl to where his face is with a mischievous grin. Your knees settle on each side of his head: you were a taker who took and took timelessly again and again. You were lucky he was a giver.

The fabric of your shorts gone, you pressed your entrance to his face - a dog in heat. Knowing his strength, you held nothing back from letting your dead weight sit on his face given his size. Slickness pressed on the opening when his mouth was as you impatiently bucked against the opening: wanton and waiting.

Kirtch was a giver. The appendages of his mouth were jarring at first, but the length of his long prehensile tongue licked up and down the slit. It wasn’t a human tongue, the ridges and texture of it stimulating the crevices of your loins with stimulations of all sorts. The gentle licks with the abrasive texture of the muscle made your stomach turn and nipples perk as his big hands went to cradle you above him. He made no effort to alleviate your weight as you squirmed and twitched on him. He was just happy to have you close like this.

The tongue, long and prehensile, stills at your entrance and prods at curiously. Despite his human knowledge, you always found it cute that like human lovers he seemed to have trouble finding that hole at first despite the numerous encounters. You buck, humming in contentment as your head lulls back and your hands stroke the cold shells by his face. Prodding, prodding, you sigh in anticipation. Patience was a virtue and patience had made you stronger than you ever imagined; you weren’t the person you were when Kirtch got you but there were virtues bestowed upon you from this… this situation turned companionship he planted you in.

Prodding, pressing, then sliding, the texture of his tongue is delicious. The movies back of earth with those scary alien tongues always left you with a weird feeling in your belly but the way his tongue felt so thick and ridged inside was a greater pleasure than any dildo you ever played with in your bed back home. Sighing, you stir your hips when his tongue stops when it hits the wall by your cervix and he knows it can go no deeper: you loved being so full, so close to him.

Bucking, your eyes roll as his tongue dips down into where his mouth is obscured by your hips, before sliding back up. The ridges scrape your insides like a ribbed condom or those textured dildos, hot and warm and wet, he fills you before withdrawing. The slow tongue dips back down and jams back up harshly, earning a choked gasp. You stutter, eyes blown wide as the tongue flattened in you: its circumference blown wider to fill you more. The ribs and ridges of the tongue thing press impossibly hard into your walls as you pant lewdly while you struggled to steady you weight by pressing your palms flat on his head. The tip of the tongue swirls around your cervix like a human licks at a nipple and your eyes see spots.

The tongue is long, in and out, flattening and widening then swirling and flicking at your cervix with the hot wet texture of it. You buck, a choked sob as you clench on it. The size of him always hurts given his impressive and inhuman stature; your little body was not made to take the ridiculous dimensions of his races’ appendages in any way. There is a will, there is a way. The way his member left your insides fragile and swollen often led you to seeking pleasure from his mouth while your pussy recovered. A flick of the tip inside, he switched gears and presses hard on your g-spot with a stiff tongue. Drool dribbles from your mouth as your vision slips away while his tongue keeps thrusting in and out, jutting up only to meet the g-spot in beating and steady bursts against the sweet spot until your body was shaking.

Back hunched as you held at his head while you babbled and drooled stupidly, Kirtch withdraws his tongue but only to nuzzle against your clit to drink up the scent of your pheromones to memorize and get him through the day. Regrouping, you still shake on where his tongue emerges from with shaky breaths. He can’t bring himself to move you.

Sometimes it’s okay to be late to work.

[hazbinshusk]

husk x afab!reader. husk loves every part of your body, every sinful, sexy inch of it. but sometimes he fixates on singular parts of you and you're more than happy to let him. or, husk fucks your tits. anon request. 1.2k featuring: tit-fucking, oral sex (husk receiving), a needy kitty.

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“Too good to me, darlin’,” Husk rumbles against your skin, his heated breath tickling against your flesh as his lips trail down from your mouth to the underside of your jaw. His eyes close as you slide your fingers down over his torso, the muscles of his stomach twitching under your touch. You let your fingers linger above his waistband, nails carding through the downy fur there to tease the skin beneath. Husk huffs a pleased sound against the spot below your ear, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin until you let out a hissing breath of excitement. “Feel so damn good…”

Husk’s hands are on your hips, holding you against him. He tugs you closer and you straddle his lap obediently, eagerly, wrapping one arm around his neck. The other continues down his front to smooth over the bulge in the front of his pants, and he groans roughly.

You squeeze him, stroking him through his clothes, and Husk’s breathing grows heavier, needier. His paws slide up over your waist and your ribs, making you shiver as they reach your breasts. He’d had you topless as soon as he’d had the door locked behind you, and the warmth of his paw pads through the thin lace of your bra was intoxicating.

He kneads hungrily at the flesh of your breasts and you moan as your nipples harden under his touch. You release his cock to catch hold of his chin and bring his mouth back to yours.

You kiss the bartender sloppily, all tongue and teeth and Husk growls into your mouth, the fluttering of his wings sending a shudder through you as they sweep cool air over you.

Pulling away from him long enough to unclip your bra and toss it aside, your breath hitches as Husk immediately ducks his head down to bring his mouth to your breast. His tongue lathes over your nipple and you arch under the touch. Your fingers curl in the fur of his cheeks, tease over his ears, Husk’s claws digging into the small of your back as he held you against him.

“Holy shit, Husk…” you whimper raggedly, and he groans against your breast, suckling harder at your nipple. A fang catches the hardened point and you gasp, eyes fluttering as they roll back for a moment. “Fuck…”

“Tasty little thing,” he murmurs deliriously, already far drunker on you than he’s ever been on cheap whiskey. He can barely bring himself to move away from your chest, dragging his cold nose along your skin as he moves to your other breast. He’s exalting in the flavor of your sweat-touched skin and the soft, soft flesh of your tits, and he’s lost in the feeling of you. “Christ, you’re perfect.”

You flush, rewarding the compliment by scratching your fingers through the fur behind his ears. He leans into the touch as best he can without breaking away from your nipple, and you let out a broken giggle at his neediness.

“Such a good boy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Husk finally shifts his attention away from your breasts to tilt his head back and meet your lips with his, letting you slide your tongue into his mouth. He whines needily as you slide off of his lap without breaking the kiss, his claws clutching at your waist blindly in an attempt to keep you close. “Uh-uh,” you tell him softly, kissing him again. “You’ll keep being good for me, won’t you baby? You’ll let me treat you nice?”

He’s not used to being the one without control, the one at another’s mercy, but for you… God, he’ll do anything you ask of him. How could he do anything else when you feel so good, taste so good… when you’re looking at him with eyes like that.

So, Husk nods eagerly, boyishly even. “Please, baby…”

You lower yourself to your knees between his thighs, smiling as Husk reaches out to touch a paw to his cheek. His claws tuck strands of hair behind your ear and you actually hear him swallow as you unfasten his pants and press a kiss to his inside of his knee.

Husk growls quietly as you nuzzle against his stiffening cock, the sound growing in the back of his throat as you run your tongue from the base of it to the tip and take him deep into your mouth.

“Fuck…” he mutters as you meet his eye with a full mouth, his claws curling in the sheets on either side of him. You hold his gaze as you bob your head slowly, bringing him to full mast, humming as you feel him swell and harden against your tongue. “Fuck, baby… so sweet…  shiiiiit….”

The last word is drawn out in a hiss as you release him from your mouth only to lean up on your knees and press the soft flesh of your breasts around the length of him.

Husk groans, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed, and your smile widens in satisfaction as you feel him thrust up between your breasts. His claws curl around your shoulder, holding you in place as he fucks himself up into your chest, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown. It isn’t necessary – there’s no way that you’d willingly move away from him, not when he’s so eager and needy and pretty.

The bartender murmurs a string of breathy curses as he loses himself to the addictively soft touch of your breasts around him, watching with hungry fascination at the way the head of his cock kisses the bruise he’d sucked into the top of your sternum with every thrust.

His head falls back as you lower your mouth to let your tongue catch the tip of his cock each time he slides it upward. “Christ, doll… feel so fucking good…”

Your breath catches as his claws scratch over your nipple, his hips quickening their thrusts. You can taste his precum on your tongue and you suckle at the head of his cock. He groans, claws tightening on your shoulder until they draw blood. You hiss at the sensation and at the way the barbs of his cock tease and tug against your skin.

“Baby, baby, baby…” Husk says it like a prayer, and when he cums against your chest he curses aloud, the word gruff and throaty. You giggle as Husk rubs a paw down over his face with a long exhale, and he gives you a small, affectionate smile at the sound before falling back against the mattress with a quiet thump. “Holy shit, you’re gonna kill me.”

You chuckle again, standing and stripping out of the remainder of your clothes. You climb on top of him, straddling his lap and stretching out over him. Husk hums his approval, hands coming up to take hold of your hips. He moans brokenly as you adjust your hips to slide your cunt over his still half-hard cock.

“’m gonna need a minute, sweetness,” he tells you, despite the hand he trails down to squeeze the curve of your ass.

You smile, pressing a kiss to the edge of his jaw. “Pretty sure we’ve got time.”

He stretches his neck up to meet your lips with his, the kiss long and lingering. You squeak against his lips as you feel his hand slip up between your thighs to tease your clit.

“Mmm…” he rumbles, nose bumping against yours as he grins up at you. “Any ideas on what we can do in the meantime?”

[brisquad-unit-4402]

hey here’s a stray hc for something i’m writing but the hc won’t make it in the final draft. you know how sometimes when you dream, you twitch in your sleep? and how it it much more common with cats and dogs because you see them asleep far more often than humans?

anyways mysta and alban twitching often in their sleep. like DUDE. listen to me here. i’m onto something. i just skimmed a reddit thread where someone said their dog had dream feet

hear me out on this one. you’re in bed with mysta it’s late at night you were up doing something whatever that’s not important. but you know what is important? you enter the room and see mysta went to bed hours ago and is already deep asleep, so deep asleep that he’s already kicked half the covers off.

he’s sprawled out on his back, and his hair is already starting to become bedhead, and you feel the mattress sink in as you get yourself comfortable. his leg twitches! just a quick quirk to the side as you tuck yourself in.

then as you settle, another little twitch, and this time it spreads to the other side of his body for just a moment before it’s gone.

you smile. cutie. he looks so serene, but even when he’s asleep, he still has enough energy that he moves to his dreams.

five minutes later, as you begin to drift off, you hear shuffling on the other side of the bed. then pressure. mysta rolled over to his side in his sleep, and rested himself against you. he’s shivering, you realize, and his skin is bumpy as well. poor baby got too hot under the covers, but he’s too cold without them either.

you gently rub circles along his back, cupping him into a cuddle as you do so. mysta stays small in your embrace and the shared warmth gets him to stop shivering.

he stays there, though. you don’t have the heart to move your arm and send him into another chill either. so you drift off with your limbs tangled between him, and before you enter dreamland, you feel the twitch of his leg against yours.

OH OH OH OR. alban’s expecting an early morning tomorrow, so he fell asleep hours before your usual bedtime. he lays curled up like a shrimp, and as his chest rises and falls, his lips slightly part with steady breaths just short of a snore.

his hands are close to his chest and below his chin, but the palms are exposed through his loose fingers. they’re very pretty hands, usually hidden by gloves thick enough to hide identifying traits, so when they’re off (rare except for when he’s resting) you see gentle skin and smooth nails.

even when he rests, alban is catlike. his loosely curled fingertips end just above the joint where the finger itself starts, so almost all of his palm is outstretched.

like a paw pad, you muse, barely able to contain yourself from cooing and possibly waking him up. however, you can’t keep yourself together for long, and you reach a finger out to gently press on his palm like a button.

and just like a button, when you make contact, his fingers flutter.

entranced, you brush along the palm again, and another set of fingers waver while his eyes are closed in sleep.

it’s almost like a game. alban’s hands wind you down as you play with them, and observe how his fingers swirl along yours even in his sleep. he’s dexterous.

you spend too long fascinated by how they move even while the thief himself isn’t available, that when you feel the soft skin between fingers again, alban catches you by surprise as he runs his arm up and around you, without even waking up to aim. try as you might, you can’t dodge out of his grasp, and after all, why would you? he’s too adorable to ignore even when he’s asleep

[clangenrising]

Month 6 - Greenleaf

“He just abandoned the kid!” Yarrowshade cried, tail lashing as he paced. “I can’t believe him!” Crouched near the river, Goldenstar winced sympathetically. Yarrowshade had been furious since yesterday and she could see why. The news of Toadpaw’s capture had been jarring to say the least and he and Russetfrond had never gotten along very well in the first place. 

Turning her gaze back to the water, searching for a flicker of scales under the surface, she said, “I’m sure he did what he thought was necessary.” 

She thought back to the assessment they had taken together as apprentices where their mentors sent them to investigate a ‘missing patrol’. She, Russetpaw, and his sister Heatherpaw had discovered his mentor, Darkrush, ‘wounded’ in a set of tunnels. Before they could figure out what had happened, Sunstar (Sunblaze at the time) had descended on them pretending to be a fox. Russetpaw had made the choice to abandon Darkrush in favor of falling back to set a proper ambush for the fox in the next chamber and Goldenpaw had felt terribly about it, even though no one was actually hurt. That had been around the time her crush on him had started to fade, she recalled. 

She twitched her whiskers and forced her vision to refocus on the water. A second too late her paw flashed into the water, just missing the little silver fish she had been aiming for. 

“Mouse-dung!” she hissed under her breath and stood, deciding to move to a different spot on the shore.

“Just because he thought it was necessary doesn’t mean it was right,” Yarrowshade grumbled, kicking a stone. It clattered along the pebbled strand. A few tail lengths away, Scorchplume’s face parted the grass as she poked her head out to scowl at them. 

“Do you think you could gripe louder?” she huffed, “maybe then you can scare off the deaf mice too.” 

“Sorry, Scorch,” Yarrowshade’s ears wilted. 

Scorch shook her head and slunk out of the grass to come stand within a more conversational distance. “Look, I can settle this once and for all. Did you see the trap this Toadpaw got stuck in?”

“No,” Yarrowshade shook his head, “but Russetfrond said it was made of cold silver lines that were as thick as a mouse’s tail and stronger than stone.” Goldenstar shuddered again at the thought. What a strange and frightening thing. Once again, she found it hard to focus on the river over the conversation behind her. 

“Then your Russetfrond was right,” Scorchplume said matter of factly, causing Yarrowshade’s brow to furrow deeply. “Those traps are specifically made to catch cats. Once you’ve triggered them there’s no way out. Sometimes if you’re fast you can get caught under the door and wiggle your way out but you’re more likely to lose the fur on your tail.” She shrugged as if that was that. Yarrowshade definitely wasn’t satisfied. 

“But there must have been something we could have done!” he protested. “The twolegs can open them easy enough, there has to be a way.” 

“Sure,” Scorch laughed, sitting down with a swish of her ginger tail. “Once you grow those long twoleg toes let me know and I’ll show you how to get the traps open. I’m telling you, beebrain, unless you have a couple hours to try and flip it over, you don’t have a chance.” 

“Have you seen many of them?” Goldenstar asked curiously, looking over her shoulder, all pretense of fishing abandoned. 

“A good amount,” she nodded, casting her cool gaze in Goldenstar’s direction. “There are plenty of them in the city. You have to get good at spotting them if you don’t want to get caught and altered.” 

“Altered?” Yarrowshade asked, still frowning.

“Yeah,” Scorch shrugged. “You know, notched? Fixed? Emptied?” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar stared without recognition for a moment. Scorchplume sighed. “They make you sleep and when you wake up your bits are gone and your ear is notched. After that you can’t have kits. Do you guys really not know about that?” 

“Oh,” Goldenstar said, “We call it going to the cutter. I’d never heard of them notching your ear though. Why would they do that?” 

“Apparently it’s a mark of shame,” Scorchplume rolled her eyes, seemingly not convinced of her own explanation. “To show the world you’re unworthy of their love. House cats that get altered don’t have their ears notched.” 

“Weird,” Yarrowshade screwed his mouth to the side, eyes drifting to the ground in thought. Goldenstar had to agree with him. Seemed to her that a twoleg deciding they didn’t want to keep you was a blessing, not a curse. 

“The point is,” Scorchplume said haughtily, “Your Russetfrond was right. There was nothing they could have done for the kid. Better him than the rest of them.” 

“But that’s so cold hearted!” Yarrowshade protested again. 

“Maybe,” Scorch shrugged, “but that’s life. You either look out for yourself or you get killed.” 

“Not here,” Yarrowshade glared, not necessarily at her but at her words. “Here we look out for each other. I would gladly die for my Clan.”

“Alright, you have fun with that,” Scorchplume scoffed and Goldenstar noticed her squirming slightly. She frowned. 

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Goldenstar said, crossing to brush her tail against his leg. “But sometimes getting killed only means one more grave to dig. I think we could stand to remember that.” 

Scorch smiled slightly and blinked slowly in her direction. “Well said, your excellence.” 

“I guess,” sighed Yarrowshade. “I’m just tired of losing cats and being powerless to stop it.” Sullenly, he nudged another stone with his toe. Goldenstar leaned her head against his shoulder and purred sympathetically. 

“I know,” she sighed. “Me too.” 

Scorchplume watched them for a beat and Goldenstar caught a small glimpse of a twinge in her throat and something distant and choked and forlorn inside her gaze. It made her want to reach out but knew the other she-cat would probably be uncomfortable with sudden physical contact.

“Well, I’m probably going to head back to camp,” Scorchplume said eventually. “All the prey around here has probably gone to ground for a good while.” 

“I think I’ll join you,” winced Goldenstar. “I can’t seem to focus on anything. What do you think, Yarrowshade? I’d say a nap is in order.” 

“Yeah, alright,” he shrugged. “I’ll see if I can go out with Pantherhaze after sundown and recoup our losses.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Goldenstar said. Flicking her tail in Scorchplume’s direction, she started the trip back to camp. 

~~~

As they neared the ridge, Russetfrond and Branchbark passed by them, likely getting an early start on the dusk patrol. Goldenstar faltered in her step at the sight of him.

“Everything alright?” Scorchplume asked softly, eyes flickering from her to Russetfrond.

“Yeah,” Goldenstar nodded. “I’ll catch up with you.” Scorch dipped her head graciously and slid up beside Yarrowshade, almost hiding from Russetfrond’s subtle glare in his shadow. 

“Ignore him,” Yarrowshade said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s just jealous.” 

Russetfrond scoffed but the ginger cats were already too far gone for him to give a proper retort. His eyes caught on Goldenstar as he focused on the path ahead and he frowned. 

“Hey,” she said, throat suddenly tight. “Have a moment?” 

“I suppose I could spare one,” he said, sounding artificially cold. When did he start hating me? Goldenstar wondered. Branchbark shuffled awkwardly, glancing quickly between the two of them. 

“Should I…” he trailed off, tail tip starting to twitch.

“No, you’re alright,” Goldenstar smiled, then said to Russetfrond, “I just wanted to say I think you did the right thing yesterday.”

“Oh?” he asked, one brow lifting. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you for making the tough call. I know that must not have been easy.” 

Russetfrond nodded. “I’m glad you understand.” 

Goldenstar’s stomach fluttered hopefully. “That’s all. Good luck on patrol.” 

“You too,” Russetfrond said automatically. She bobbed her head and slipped past him. Maybe things between them weren’t so bad after all.

[soapified]

weirdly specific soap mactavish headcanons!! for sfw for funsies

fem!reader

hehe my first (and probably last post) sorryy if the format is confusing im still learning 💔💔. mb if things don’t make sense or i didn’t say the correct name/spelling im bad at english lol

IM SORRYRYRYRY 😭😭

ugh i want him so bad

——————————————————————————

sfw (wrote too much sorry)

words are his love language so if you play them correctly he WILL melt

loves giving and receiving compliments no matter how big or small

sliding him a few compliments at first will flabbergast this poor guy especially ones about his physique 🤭

his nose would twitch instead of him blushing

uses nicknames like “schnookums” “shmoopy” ironically especially to embarrass you in front of everybody else

sneaks in actual little nicknames for you and tries to be sneaky, ex. “love” “lassie/lass” “sweetheart” “sweet girl”

he thought he was being slick, he wasn’t and doesn’t know that

has earned a few snorts and furrowed eyebrows from the rest of them because of his antics lol

wants you to touch his hair but doesn’t wanna admit it (i am not sure if he has any tbh)

doesn’t have time to go to a barber anymore so he shaves and cuts his own hair

talks about his petite little mohawk and chews your ear off about it

“would you still love me if i shaved it off? not so beautiful anymore? arent i?!” he says, jokingly threatening to shave off the feeble strip of “mohawk” standing up in the middle of his scalp

wears Spider-Man pajamas every time he gets a chance

bought the shirt a smaller size so it’s tighter

enjoys it when you stare at his cute little Spider-Man shirt

listens to old white dad metal music and grossly adores radiohead

doesn’t admit he likes soft voices and black box recorder (our lana del rey coded sad girl king!!1!1)

“actually- i have sort of a kinship to the song creep 🤓” and his voice would thicken saying this

genuinely teared up to ‘high and dry’

his hands are very rough, his palms are slightly softer but it sometimes hurts holding them

has scars inside both of his palms

was weary of holding your hands at first because he knows how rough his hands are

does the thing where he strokes your hand with his thumb

is a bath man

has those bath trays that connect from end to end on the bathtub rim

has an arsenal of axe body spray on the tray

loves the brand philosophy because of the smell of the shower gels so he treats himself with a bottle after a long task

his one and only alternative is the dove cucumber soap bars

despises loofahs

tries to start with a cold bath but it’s too scared and then immediately starts to crank the faucet to the hot one

sings in the shower (..when he actually showers)

starts out quiet and hums but the longer it takes, the more it becomes a mini concert

sounds terrible when he sings radiohead

once tried to sing the last part of creep, his voice cracked, he knocked over a shampoo bottle on his foot, and started coughing and almost punched a hole in the shower because of the pain

tries to take cold showers and endures it unlike the bath

uses head and shoulders because he thinks his oily scalp is dandruff

doesn’t know that’s what makes his tiny mohawk flat

refuses to admit he has a skin care routine

“a what? well i barely use anything. very little.. yous gotta believe me!!1!1!1”

aftershave, retinol serum, tatcha moisturizer (he somehow accidentally bought it and was fuming because his military pension isn’t built for that)

uses the same bar of soap he uses for his body as a cleanser

also secretly has an amethyst roller (it constantly falls apart and cracked)

he has a king size bed all for himself

has a shit ton of pillows like a cocoon

bed smells like his own like scent but also a sickening amount of sauvage

never let go of his paw patrol blanket that he bought as a joke in like 2019 because it’s very warm and fluffy

surprisingly let’s you take up most of the space if you want and gives you the paw patrol blanket

used to be a mouth breather and snores so loud

throat used to be so dry and he was afraid of drinking orange juice because it stung

he thought his hoarse morning voice was hot (probably is)

doesn’t snore anymore because he got those sony headphones

he swears they’re magical (they’re really just expensive

he cherishes them and is very attached to them

once fell asleep to his usual playlist, woke up to lana del rey’s “cola”

has this one fluffy white persian cat plush toy that he named ‘goyangi’ but pronounces it horribly, also doesn’t know that it means ‘cat’

“go-YANG-gEE 🤓” and pronounced the actual G twice

“my cat is a SHE. 🙄🙄 she’s pretty little creature isnt she?”

when he’s too embarrassed to say it out loud his second name for it is “Hubert”

has had that thing since like 2014

okay that’s it byee 🫶🫶

might make a 2nd one with both sfw and nsfw

[pinksparklelps]

Sparky adopts Tibbles

I trotted forward to the meeting ground, snow crunching beneath my paws. I do this everyday, yet I can never stop myself from shivering. Not from the cold, no, but the feeling of just… going. Whether it was excitement or nervousness, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s both.

Staring up with wide eyes, I stand before the huge being that is Nestor. His many blinding white eyes pierce my soul, and I bow my head before him. This was an everyday activity for a leader–meeting with Nestor, the large black moose that guards all of us not-cats. I go on behalf of the Starlit Hollow, to give him my greeting and prayer of thanks for the creation of this world.

In return, he always gifts an item for me to bring home and use for the village's benefit. I’ve come to learn that it would usually be something common, like scales from the river or rosemary from the gardens. It’s easy to get these on our own, but any gift from the Guardian of Not-Earth is always welcome. Sometimes, he would even give me something rare, like rose quartz or catmint; both of which are usually in short supply yet very sought after.

So as I gave Nestor my thanks, my tail twitches with excitement, wondering what we’d be given today.

“Mrrp?”

At the sound, I open my eyes. I found myself staring at a ball of fluff, who stares right back with its large amber eyes. Taken aback, I tilt my head up to let Nestor know my confusion, but he had already gone. Off to another village I assume.

I look back down at the kitten, who’s attention shifted to a silver firefly. This… is a situation. Scanning the area, I can’t find anything that would be a gift. No wintermint, no paper bark, not even seeds. It seems that this little not-cat is Nestor’s gift to my village.

Sitting down to regain my composure, I ponder what to do. All of my cats, including me, have no experience raising beans. More than half of us migrated from Earth, and the rest just never had a partner before. Besides, raising a single kitten would likely stunt its growth. We’re a social species, and beans need littermates or friends their age. But above all, I can’t just leave a kitten alone, especially when it’s so little. It’s probably not a little more than just a bean.

The little not-cat trots through the snow, and then rolls over to bat playfully at a flower. It grabs my attention. I walk over and sniff at the orange petals that are speckled with black. This is rare. Exceptionally rare. A tiger lily is the last flower I ever expected to see in Winter. I switch my gaze back to the kitten, who’s back to tumbling around in the snow.

I’ve made up my mind. I grab the kitten by the scruff, causing it to squeak while I haul it onto my back. I smile when it starts purring and nuzzling into my fur. I think I’m already getting attached. Walking a bit slower so the kitten doesn’t fall, I carry it back down the trail and to the Starlit Hollow.

We didn’t have to walk far before we were walking into the plaza, and my not-cats welcomed me back. They were just as surprised seeing the kitten on my back, and I laughed at the shared reaction. I crouched down, and let the kitten hop off. It tumbled forward once it landed on the snowy tiles and sneezed the snow out of its whiskers.

To my delight, everyone welcomed the kitten warmly, even offering some of their toys. It’s a better reaction than what I was anxious about. Wren even asked me where it came from, so I explained how Nestor gave it to me which everyone responded with shock, just as I had. But most importantly, I believe we all silently agreed that this kitten was a symbol. A sign that our village would grow, and Nestor believes in me to lead it.

Now, I can watch from afar as that same little kitten grows. I can watch as xey build their own family and friendships. Snowmelt is here, and my little kitten is all grown up and ready to race through the same fields that I do. Looking down to the tiger lily tied around my neck, smiling as I remember that day. And how ever since then, I would and will continue to adopt any kittens I am given.

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 20

Chapter 19 || Index || Chapter 21

Fireheart trotted through the forest towards the Twolegplace, his mind filled with worry. Between Graystripe, and Tigerclaw, and his punishment, it felt like nothing and nowhere was safe these days. He was constantly on edge, waiting for something or someone to jump out of the shadows. He needed a little time to himself to relax - luckily for him, he knew exactly the spot where he could do that.

He’d departed sometime after the border patrols had left, and now as he approached the border he could smell the warriors that had been sent on patrol. Graystripe, Tinyfrost, and Cinderspark; their scents were as distinct and familiar as each of his claws. Though they’d passed by recently, he wasn’t worried about them finding him; by now they would be long gone, and they had no reason to come back this way.

As he stepped out of the forest onto the cool grassy border, he took a deep breath to call out for his sister. As he did, something in the breeze caught his attention. It was a cat-scent, and a familiar one. He paused, concentrating on it for a few heartbeats. Was that… Tigerclaw?

He blinked in confusion. The traitor deputy’s hatred of Twolegs, kittypets, and the Twolegplace was well known. Why would he be nearby? He took in another deep breath, this time scenting other cats as well - ones he’d smelled before, but they were faint and hard to place. Other kittypets? He couldn’t tell if any had been in the same place at the same time as Tigerclaw. All he knew was that they hadn’t lingered long enough to leave a strong scent.

Maybe Tigerclaw had been hunting nearby and scented a kittypet in their borders? It was the only explanation that made sense. He shook his head briefly and lifted his gaze to Princess’s fence once more. “Princess! It’s me, Fireheart. Are you there?” He called softly, careful not to be loud enough to alert the Twolegplace patrol.

Heartbeats passed, and he began to knead his ginger paws into the grass. What if his sister had come looking for him and found Tigerclaw instead? He’d meant to visit sooner, of course, but having been so busy with his punishment, he’d hardly gotten the chance to get away. Maybe she was worried about him, or maybe she had been seeking him after-

 “Fireheart!” She purred in delight as she bounded down into the tall grass, touching her nose to his happily. “I’ve been hoping to see you. It’s been getting so cold at night. Are you doing alright? Are you at least keeping warm?”

He brushed his cheek against hers in greeting, sighing in relief at her demeanor. She was definitely doing better than the last time he had visited. “I’m fine. The cold isn’t so bad once you get used to it, and our dens keep out the worst of the wind while we sleep.” Even as he spoke warmly, it felt as though the scent of Tigerclaw was chilling him to the bone. “Princess, have you seen any strange cats around here lately?”

“Strange cats? You mean, aside from you?” The young kittypet retorted warmly as she nudged him teasingly with her shoulder.

His whiskers twitched into a hollow smile at that. “Something like that, yeah.” He glanced out into the forest, as though expecting someone to be watching them, but it was as empty and cold as it had been when he arrived. “Look, I just.. I think there might be a cat hanging around here. He’s a big and dark tabby with amber eyes. If you see him, stay away from him, alright?”

His sister’s smile faltered as she heard the gravity of his tone, and she searched his face with concern. “Of course. I’ll tell the other housecats to do the same. Even though not many are eager to be out of their houses in this cold…” She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Fireheart, you’re not in danger, are you?”

Even as his mind raced through everything he was trying to escape while being here, he shook his head and did his best to give her a warm grin. “No, I’ll be alright. It’s just that there’s a rogue that’s been giving our border patrols some trouble recently. I don’t want him attacking you - or anyone.” 

She nodded and slowly sat down next to him. “Of course, I understand. I hope you chase him away for good soon.”

“So do I.” Fireheart murmured, nuzzling into her shoulder before laying down beside her. “He’s no real trouble for warriors like us, anyways. The snowstorms are a bigger problem, really.”

Her eyes widened as he mentioned the recent snow. “That’s right! I saw the snows recently through the window. Some of the other housecats were playing in it, but all I could think about was you. You must have been so miserable…”

The ginger tom shook his head dismissively. “The snow wasn’t that bad, really; paw-deep at best. None of it even made it into our camp.” He watched her flop down beside him, her belly beginning to round with kits. He did his best not to linger on it, instead bringing his gaze up to meet hers. “Though the elders are saying that it’ll get much worse before leafbare’s over. Smallear even said that one year, back when he was an apprentice, the snow was so deep that the Clan had to dig out tunnels through the snow to get to the other dens! Mind you, I’m not sure I believe that. The elders love exaggerating.”

His sister’s green eyes were round with shock, though his warm tone seemed to keep her from worrying. “Do you talk with the elders often, then?” She asked him, curiosity in her voice. “I remember you said you were caring for them when we first met.”

He hesitated. Part of him wanted to tell her the truth; about what had happened between him and Graystripe, about the punishment he was currently doing. Then he dismissed the thought with a flick of his ear. There was no need to worry her over it, and he doubted she’d understand the intricacies of the situation anyways.

“Well, it’s the job of the apprentices to take care of the elders’ needs. The day I met you, I was taking care of the Shadowclan elders, when they were staying with us after Brokentail exiled them.” Even now, he wondered what they might say if they knew he was now taking care of their oppressor, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It didn’t matter anyways. “They’re gone now, of course, and I’m a warrior now. But there aren’t any apprentices right now, and there won’t be for several moons, so the younger warriors are taking care of them instead.”

“That’s kind of you.” Princess purred, resting her white-tipped tail on his. “Are there many elders to take care of? That must keep you busy for most of the day.”

“There’s a pawful of elders, yes. One-eye, Smallear, Rosetail, Halftail, Patchpelt, and…” He trailed off as he remembered Speckleflight and Snowkit. It felt wrong saying that Snowkit was an elder, even if Fireheart was still responsible for bringing him food and changing his bedding. 

“What’s the matter?” The kittypet beside him pressed softly, her eyes filling with concern as she watched him with her ears perked forward.

“It’s nothing.” He fibbed quickly, once again afraid his sister might not fully understand the situation if he explained it. “I just forgot the last elder - Speckleflight. She just retired to the elder’s den from the nursery this moon. I guess I haven’t gotten used to it yet.”

His sister nodded in understanding, and for a brief moment he felt guilty discounting her. Perhaps she would understand if he told her. He shook the thought aside as she spoke. “It sounds as if you don’t know her all that well. Do you not visit the nursery often?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “I guess I don’t know her as well as some of my other Clanmates, sure. I know she was the oldest queen, and that she was in charge of the nursery, but that’s really it.” He blinked and shook his head quickly at her question. “I visited it a little as an apprentice, to do chores for the queens, but as a warrior I don’t really have any reason to go there, so I don’t.”

Princess listened to his every word in wide-eyed rapture, and he had to stifle a purr at the sight. These visits were always a refreshing change of pace from the drudgery of camp, and it was nice to have someone listen to him without calling him a kittypet in some form or another. He only wished he could come out here more often.

“It must be hard work, being in charge of the nursery while looking after a litter of kits.” She mewed softly beside him. “I can see why she would retire after that.”

“Well, she only had one kit in her last litter.” Fireheart explained, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to talk about Snowkit. “But I think she’s been in the nursery for seasons before that. You don’t have to have kits to be a nursery queen, I do know that.”

“Really?” She was leaning into him now, as though she needed to hear every word he said as soon as it left his lips. “How does one become a nursery queen, then?”

He shrugged as he glanced away into the forest, as if he would spot some cat watching them, but the forest was cold and empty for the time being. “You’d have to ask someone else. I just know that Goldenflower and Frostfur were nursery queens when I joined, even though they hadn’t had any kits then.” He chuffed as he thought on it. “It’s a bit strange, actually. Frostfur seems like she’d make such a good warrior - she’s even called Frostfury by most of the Clan. I’m not sure why she’d choose to be a nursery queen.”

“Maybe she wants to support her mate.” Princess pointed out, flicking one brown ear at his words. “Maybe she likes kits and wants to be around them. Or maybe there’s something preventing her from being a warrior like normal.”

He winced as he thought of Snowkit as she spoke. The young tom and Frostfur did look quite alike, even though they weren’t related. But surely if that was an option, Bluestar would have considered it? “I don’t think so. She earned her warrior name, after all.” Fireheart mewed after a few heartbeats of thought.

Silence hung in the chilly air for several moments as clouds drifted by overhead. “Maybe it’s nice, in the nursery.” Princess whispered softly, so much that for a heartbeat he thought she was talking to herself. “What do you think?” She asked him, speaking louder now.

He stared at her, trying to figure out what she wanted to know. “I mean, it seems alright, I guess? The entrance is kind of small, but the inside is huge. Big enough to fit five or six queens and their litters, I’d bet. And it’s warmer than the warriors’ den, but I don’t think Frostfur would care about that. She’s got a thick coat, kind of like we do.” He didn’t really know what else to say. He supposed it was one of the nicer dens in camp, but every cat he knew seemed to complain about being stuck in it at one point or another.

His confusion didn’t seem to faze his sister at all. “Do you think the queens are happy in the nursery?” She wondered out loud, looking over her shoulder into the forest for a brief moment before gazing back at him.

“I… I guess they seem to be.” His pelt prickled uncomfortably at the question. Was she having regrets of her own? She seemed so much happier than the last time he had seen her, but maybe she was still more affected than he’d realized. “Why?”

She shrugged, her shoulders gently rising and falling. “I guess I’m just thinking of my own nest. It’s so soft, and warm. I hope every queen in your camp has a nest like that.” Her eyes were clear as she looked up at him, her gaze bright as she regarded her brother.

Fireheart nodded, understanding what she meant now. “Well, they get the softest moss we can find - them and the elders, too. The rest of it either goes to the warriors or the apprentices.” He told her, reaching down to lap at her ear comfortingly for a moment. “Your nest may be softer, but I’m sure the queens’ nests in the nursery are almost the same. As for the warmth - well, just the other day Sandstorm was insulating the nursery to keep it warm in the cold. I’m sure it’s as cozy as a rabbit in a burrow!”

She accepted the gesture warmly, reaching up to nuzzle under his chin comfortingly. “That’s lovely to hear. And the kits, do they like it in the nursery?”

“Oh, they complain about it constantly!” Her tail bristled slightly at his words, and he quickly added, “But they just want to be apprentices as soon as they can. When I first joined the Clan, Graystripe - Graypaw at the time - told me that six moons feels like an eternity to a young kit.” Her fur smoothed down as he spoke. “Not that I blame them. Waiting to become a warrior felt like it took forever, and I got to go all over the territory. I can’t imagine being stuck in camp waiting!”

They both purred mirthfully at the thought. “You’re right. Six moons does feel like a long time.” Princess replied as their purrs died away. “Why, it was only six moons ago that I met you again, wasn’t it?”

He hesitated before nodding slowly. “Something like that, yeah.” He admitted. It was crazy to think that it had been such little time, compared to what cats like Bluestar or One-eye had experienced. “But hopefully we’ll keep seeing each other for many moons more.”

“I hope so too.” She mewed softly, pressing her still-warm fur into his own - a gesture he accepted happily. “I wish I could see you more often. I have the other kittypets to talk to, but none of them are like you.”

“I hope not!” He chuffed, pretending to be indignant at her words, but his smile didn’t stay for long as he thought about what she’d said. “I wish I could visit you more often too. The rest of the Clan, they don’t really seem to understand me the way you do.” He let out a long sigh and shook his head. “But with leafbare, the Clan needs me more than ever. Nearly every warrior is out hunting if they’re not on patrol. We’re surviving, but only just.”

His stomach growled as he thought about the last time he had eaten, which felt like ages ago now. For a moment, he thought Princess would offer him some of her kittypet kibble, but instead she nodded slowly and looked wistfully out into the forest. “Still, it must be nice to be able to eat fresh prey every meal.” She murmured quietly, her voice nearly a whisper.

He dipped his head. “It is. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.” Fireheart said firmly, even as his stomach growled again. “The freedom of the forest… It's a hard life sometimes, but there’s nothing else like it.”

His sister was silent for several heartbeats, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. They sat together in quiet contemplation, the sun’s rays weakly lighting their pelts. “I hope my kits can experience it, one day.” She whispered, her voice barely audible.

He glanced down at her side, numerous questions spilling onto the tip of his tongue. He forced them back, instead gently lapping at her ear. “Maybe one day they’ll find their way to the Clans.” He purred softly. It was a nice thought, anyway - having some kind of family inside the Clan that understood him like his sister did.

His sister’s head raised at the sound of a Twoleg yowling. “That’s my housefolk. She must be worried about me out in this cold.” She brushed her cheek against his before rising to her feet. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon?”

“Of course.” He replied, watching as she trotted to the fenceline. “As soon as I can manage.”

She gave him one last grin over her shoulder before delicately leaping to the top of the fence and disappearing into her garden. He watched her leave with a sigh, disappointment suddenly welling up inside him. Her words had brought back feelings he’d carefully buried; that desire to have family that understood him within the Clan. He was even lonelier now that Graystripe had broken the code and turned his back on him.He shook his fur out and got to his feet. That didn’t matter right now. He’d promised the Clan he was going hunting now; maybe if he did well, he would be able to eat tonight. With one last glance out at the fenceline, he trotted back into the forest, trying to ignore the still-lingering scent of the deputy behind him.

[residences-of-the-darkforest]

Mother in The Medicine Den (Sprouting Thorns)

Alderkit planted his little paws firmly into the grass, staring up at the dark mouth of the medicine den that loomed over him like a hungry fox. “No!” he repeated again.

Sweettree stopped her nudging and blinked at him patiently. “It’s okay, little one. It’s safe.”

“Noooo!”

“They’ll help you.”

“No! No! No!” Alderkit’s chest felt cold. His fur stood at the nape of his neck, and his eyes were wide, looking to the den, then to his mother, and back again. 

Sweettree took in a deep breath. Alderkit could see her skin slide over her ribs.

His mother crouched down so that she was level with him. “I know you’re scared,” she told him. “It’s a lot of strange smells, right? It can be confusing.”

Alderkit pouted at her, lips quivering as he tried to show as much distress as he could, so that Sweettree would just have to look at his unhappy face to decide to turn and take him back to the den. 

Sweettree licked his cheek. “Is it because the herbs can be stinky sometimes?” Sweettree made a face, wrinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out. 

Alderkit shook his head. No, it wasn’t the medicine he had an issue with. It was the cat that gave it. “I don’t want to,” he wailed.

Sweettree shuffled closer to him, looking into his eyes with an exhausted, exasperated, understanding, and loving gaze. “Why?” She asked. 

Alderkit only shook his head again, afraid that he would get in trouble for bad-mouthing the medicine cat. Everyone said to respect them, that they were just as important as the leader, if not more. “Pleeeease!”

Sweettree sighed. “Whatever it is, little one, I’ll be right beside you, okay? I promise, if anything hurts too much, or smells too much, we can go. But you have to give it a chance first. That’s how you get better. I know you’re scared,” she added after a moment. “But there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, you need to be afraid of when I’m here.”

Alderkit ducked his head. There was no getting out of this. While he did feel much better, he still wasn’t looking forward to entering that den. 

“Can you be brave?” Sweettree asked gently.

Alderkit reluctantly nodded.

============================

“He’s got a cough,” Gorsedaisy told the queen.

Sweettree tried not to show her frustration at the black cat. Partly to seem calm, partly because it was hard to feel much other than pity  when she looked at the older cat. Gorsedaisy’s fur was badly matted, sticking together in clumps, sticking out randomly, and leaves clung to her pelt in such great numbers that Sweettree could hardly make out the sandy and orange flecks that marked her dark pelt. “I know that much. Is it anything more? Whitecough? Greencough?”

“If it were, I’d have listed more symptoms,” Gorsedaisy grunted. Her irises were as thin as claws so that the yellow-green colour covered most of her eyes. 

A giggle made Sweettree look down. 

Alderkit was pressed hard against her side, and now that his check-up was over, he was much calmer, distracted by an ant that he was teasing with a playful paw.

Returning her attention to the medicine cat, Sweettree lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is it what I have?” 

“Oh yes!” Sweettree’s heart stopped– “A male kit has the same sickness as a she-cat weakened from birth!”

Sweettree’s tail slapped the ground. “Will he get better?” She asked more firmly.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Gorsedaisy answered. Her attention turned to the wall of herbs on the one side of the den, but she made no movement to pick at them. Instead, she seemed to only stare ahead blankly. She growled, pelt twitching.

“What was that?” Sweettree’s eyes narrowed. Surely she couldn't have heard that right. Gorsedaisy’s voice was so raspy.

“He’s healthy,” Gorsedaisy reaffirmed. “Now, get that thing out of here and leave me in peace!”

Sweettree bristled. “Do not speak to my son that way!”

“Swee’ree?”

Sweettree met her son’s gaze. “She says you’re healthy as a duckling!” she told him cheerfully, trying to appear joyful. “I’m going to stay to talk for a little bit, but do you want to go back to the den?”

Alderkit hesitated, eyeing Gorsedaisy uncertaintly. 

He’s worried for me, Sweettree realized, and her heart swelled with love so strong that it nearly choked her. He’ll stay in a place he’s scared of if it means making sure I’m okay. “It’s alright, my little golden star. I’ll be with you as soon as you can say ‘mouse��! But this is adult talk. Reeally boring!”

Alderkit hesitated a moment more, then padded slowly to the entrance, continually checking over his shoulder before at last the leaves swallowed him up and he was out of view and earshot. Sweettree smiled reassuringly at him the whole way, and when he was far enough, her expression melted into a hard frown that she turned on the medicine cat. “Do you know something?”

Gorsedaisy raised a brow. “I know a lot of somethings. Somethings and some things that you could never understand.”

Sweettree shook her head. “About him. About me–about this sickness!” She stared desperately at the medicine cat. “Is it–is it a punishment? Because I had a kit with another she-cat’s mate? I didn’t know! I swear, I didn’t! If I could go back and change it, I would! I just want to be there for my son, but how can I be when half the time I’m here with two medicine cats who can’t figure out how to cure me, and one who speaks in riddles or sarcasm? It’s…There’s…None of it makes sense. Why would StarClan do this to me unless it was retribution? How can I make it right?”

Gorsedaisy’s eyes were soft and understanding for a second, so short that Sweettree wondered if she imagined it, before they hardened over, pupils constricting somehow further as her jaw locked and saliva dripped from the corners of her frowning lips. “You simple lot! So lost in the past, you can never see the things to come until they’re right at your neck, plunging into your throat! Ha! You think not being able to change the past is hard? Try not being able to change the future! Knowing what’s to come, and not being able to do a single thing about it! Who cares if some tom cheated? Death is coming! Blood will spill, it will flood the forest and drown us all! Don’t you understand? You were never the target of the sickness. It was that thing! That horrible, wretched-thing!”

Sweettree’s ears were flattened against her skull. She had backed away as Gorsedaisy gave her wild speech, expecting the crazed she-cat to lash out her claws at any point. Still moving away, Sweettree felt the air from the mouth of the den breath against her tail. Staring for a heartbeat longer at the spitting cat, Sweettree turned-tail and ran.

=======================

@ambitiousauthor

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Copper and Crow | Short Story

Glowingshadow felt his eye twitch with irritation as he stared at Poppycharm from across the Cherryclan camp, lecturing Crowpaw for… Getting into a playfight with Vanillapaw over a piece of prey. They both still had kit fluff behind their ears, of course they would still want to play and mess around, and argue over small things like prey! He rolled his eyes as he focused onto the two sisters relaxing nearby, enjoying the shade. Most cats would sunbathe in this warm greenleaf, but Vanillapaw and Sweetpaw seemed to hate anything that was too warm.. And water. The two were hard to please, he thought with another, more playful roll of his eyes. Unfortunately, that caused him to look back at Crowpaw and Poppycharm. The poor apprentice was struggling not to tear up, simply nodding at their mother before sulking away when she glared and told them to go find their mentor.

He got up, stretching before hurrying after Crowpaw. The black and gray cat looked seconds away from crying, but managed to regain their composure as they noticed him approaching. “Crowpaw!” He smiled warmly at them, as they forced a small smile. “Hi, Glowingshadow- I’m uh, looking for Silverstrike. Have you seen her?” They questioned, to which Glowingshadow shook his head. “Nope, sorry buddy. But I was wondering if you were doing okay? Here, let’s walk and talk.” He turned, letting Crowpaw take the lead as he trailed after. “So… Is everything okay?” “Um.. Why do you ask?” Crowpaw glanced up at the tom, who made his best concerned expression. “I saw you and Poppycharm and you both looked pretty upset.. You don’t have to lie to me, I promise.” The apprentice seemed to shrink at the mention of their mother, looking away and trying to find Silverstrike among the clearing. “Uh, well.. She.. Um.. She- She kind of got mad at me for fighting with Vanillapaw over that dove we both really wanted.” Crowpaw shuffled their paws, glancing down at the soft grass as their eyes darted to-and-fro. Glowingshadow felt bad making the young cat so uncomfortable, but he needed this info. “Well, she didn’t have to yell at you for that…” “She yells at me a lot.” Crowpaw blurted out, flinching immediately at their own words. “Does she yell at Copperpaw too?” Glowingshadow pressed on, brushing his tail against Crowpaw’s spine.

“…Sometimes. I don’t hear it much but I think he gets it kind of worse than I do.” Crowpaw mumbled, causing Glowingshadow’s fur to bristle. “I see… I’m sorry your mother’s-” He bit back the cruel words he wanted to say, “so strict to you and your brother.” He looked away with a slight hiss to his words. Crowpaw nodded slightly, glancing around the camp once more then silently moving away once they saw Silverstrike. “I gotta go talk to Silverstrike now,” They mewed, their voice strained. “Oh- Have fun training, Crowpaw! Byebye!” Glowingshadow purred as the apprentice hurried off to the silver tabby, then quickly dropped the facade and gave a cold glare to Poppycharm. The she-cat was busy grooming her fur, basking in the sunlight that filtered through the white leaves. As if she wasn’t just yelling at her own child. His pelt bristled as he imagined digging his claws into her, ripping out fur and seeing the blood stain the forest floor- But he quickly shook the thoughts out of his head as he silently left the camp to go on a little innocent walk.

The territory was warm and buzzing with life, birds chirping and leaves rustling. It almost soothed the bubbling anger that felt ready to explode within Glowingshadow, as he repeated the scene over and over in his head. Why is it some cats just don’t know how to treat their kits right? Is it that hard to be decent and treat your kit like you would your friends and family? He looked up at the blossoms in the trees as he continued to walk, wondering how he’d deal with Poppycharm. Her kits seemed uncomfortable even talking to her, and asking her to change seemed like a brick wall. His thoughts came to a sudden stop as a scent hit his nose, slightly faint yet sour. He hurried towards the source, looking down into a dip of trees. A badger den! How long has this been here? It seemed recently abandoned too… While he knew he should’ve definitely brought this up to the newfound leader Palestar, he instead had a much better idea. With a sudden turn, leaves fluttering from his movement- He rushed back to camp to ask Poppycharm to come investigate with him.

“I don’t see the point in asking just me to come with you,” Poppycharm groaned as Glowingshadow forced himself to keep his claws sheathed, feeling his heart race as they approached the location. “Couldn’t you just have asked the deputy to send out a patrol?” “Well, you’re one of the best warriors I know!” He needed it to be convincing, he couldn’t just kill her and drag her there- Despite every word she spoke made him only want to tear her from limb to limb. Maybe he’d give himself more reason to do it, just to make when they finally got there more exciting. “So, how’s Copperpaw and Crowpaw?” He immediately regretted asking it the moment the words came out. “Ugh, you would not believe how irritating those two could be. Copperpaw’s nest is a mess every day despite how much I tell the mousebrain to clean it, and Crowpaw got into a fight over a dove with that new cat. Can you believe him?-” “They.” He hissed under his breath. “Hm?” Poppycharm looked up from her rant, her lavender eyes half-lidded with mild irritation. “Nothing, just mumbling!” Glowingshadow smiled, forcing himself to keep his happy demeanor. By the time they finally arrived, Glowingshadow was trembling with excitement, his tail twitching with each move. “You’re shaking like a leaf,” Poppycharm pointed out as Glowingshadow bit his tongue, not wanting to reveal any intentions. “Well, we don’t know if it’s really gone.” He hummed as Poppycharm approached the den. Finally.

Poppycharm sniffed the roots of the tree, cringing at the scent. “Ew, you were right about it being recently abandoned.” She grumbled as Glowingshadow slowly approached, unsheathing his claws. His heartbeat raced in his ears, barely able to hear Poppycharm’s talk of nonsense- “I don’t think there’s anything here. Can we go now, Glowingshadow? Glowingshadow?” She mewed, turning just in time to see Glowingshadow lunge.

She was dead before she could even yowl. He shoved his claws into the bleeding out body, ripping out clumps of fur, leaving large gashes, everything he could to make it convincing as he removed clumps of fur from her body. Sneaking inside the den, he quickly dragged anything he could out to make it look like a badger got her instead of him- And then, after rolling around in the den to add some finishing touches and, he darted back to camp with his best terrified expression.

————————————————————

I wanted to write about one of Glowingshadow’s murders. So I wrote about Poppycharm! I considered writing about one of the cats I didn’t mention in his backstory, but Poppy was the first one that came to mind. i hope i submitted this right lmao

===========================

This is what happens when you don’t respect your child or their pronouns, folks! 

[irrfahrer]

Ziv will explain what In-Universe Plant Your Muse reminds her of!  Using Wookieepedia as a source ! FEAT @kyberllcore !

The Tynnan smelled Cal before he knocked on the door of her hut,so before he could even knock the door shifted open and the Tynnan stood before him, a basket leaned on her hip and the other already reaching for the younger mans hand: “Ah, bad day?” She sniffed in the air, searching for adrenaline in the others sweat or any other hint of why Cal had seeked her out only for a frown to draw a line as deep as a scar between her furred eyebrows: “Oh, that kriffing bad day? Well than,-”

Taking her littl brothers hand into her much smaller paw- it was cold and she could feel him twitch away from touching her fur just for a second before relaxing and curling his fingers around her short, webbed ones. Ziv ignored for now that second of flinching back, but her ears turned to the side towards Cal like a humanoid would keep a watchful side-eye on someone else.“-you are kriffing lucky, I am on my way to collect herbs and you are now going to come along, so here, paw into mine and now move your kriffing tailless ass, yes, just like that, good pup.” still holding his hand the Tynnan lead him away from the little hut she had rented and over the starharbours streets- it was so early in the morning that the mist from the near sea was laying still like a blanket over the buildings. The starharbour still slept with the only noises only the distant waves of the sea rustling through the salty air and distant engine-noises from the starhangar whichs shape had drowned at the other side of the settlement in the thick mist.

She lead him away from the streets and past the round shapes of the last huts of the starharbour into the damp dunes with only lonely standing, pale trees that occaisonally build isles of green on the cold beach. “Its alright, you know.” , Ziv said eventually as she lead Cal through the dunes, stopping occiasonally to cut certaine hard grasses or little pale branches from small meager trees that looked like bones against the greyblue of the distant sea by the horizont. Ziv had served long nough in military-sickbays to know how the different ways of working with quiet patients and qhile patiently waiting and only be there was one tactic, for now she wanted to make him comfortable by filling the silence: “You do not need to talk to me, Force knows, I am definitive talking enough for both of us. So what-kriffing-ever, just keep on beeing quiet, I am not bothering about words and your scent is enough to know that there is something wrong, even if I am also sometimes kriffing bohthered by that permannt TMI stuff going past your deodorant. Which is probably just me saying that you should invest in a stronger deodorant, but what-kriffing- ever, who needs to listen to me anyway. If your guy is into that, why kriffing not.” By the time the light of the morning changed from white into a lazy, cold pink Zivs basket as full of grass, roots and branches and she lead Cal to a small patch of green that circled one of the trees like a court would circle a king. Out of the pale sand short green stems with small, pale green and closed flowers grew that trembled in a not feelable breeze when Ziv sat down and pulled the younger man gently down to her: “We will sit down here. Have you seen those flowers before?”

Reacting to Cal and Ziv sitting down in the cool, damp sand the flowers twitched and turned just so mildly, almost curiously. The Tynnan sat down her basket in the sand and decided instead of taking another sniff from Cal to breath in the wet, salty air that scratched all the way up her nostrils: “They are called Green Daisys, for obvious reasons because they are kriffing green as you see, not everyone is as creative as me, you know. The thing about Green daisys is, that they have kriffing special follicles on their stems that are as highly sensitive as you with your little psychometric paws are. They react to the presence of other lifeforms, in fact actually their kriffing breathing and heartbeat. Its actually not as romantic as it sounds like, other lfieforms mean that the can carry around the flowers pollen to other flowers and make them spread as far as possible. Kriffing literally in this case since Green Daisys come originally from Lothal and we are obviously not on Lothal, so you see how it works since this little Kriffers had probably thrown their pollen on a spacer and they had brought them here to this place in a very kriffing unromantic manner. They are still kriffing pretty.” It was now that Ziv let go of Cals hand and leaned back, leaning on her elbows in the small pond of green daisys:

“And thats why we will sit here  and be quiet and wait till they bloom. We are going to sit here for a while, so make yourself comfortable, cub.”

[whitherwordswither]

Eleven sixteen. Ante meridiem.

I'm starting to believe that I primarily exist in my bed. Which, I guess, is fine. It's comfortable. I did get up a little earlier to lift the curtains on the far window to let some natural light in. The sun is out today and it looks kind of nice. But it's cold, so I will accept admiring it from a respectable distance.

There are a multitude of things I should probably be doing; looking for at least some part time work and taking better care of this aging physical organic form. I'm just too tired. Even though I think I got a decent amount of sleep last night I don't quite feel rested. Probably all the subsequent nights of shoddy sleep that came before it.

I lean back against my forest green pillows, head resting against Rex's pink body. Rex is a large stuffed pink fox, if you were at all curious. Her slightly smaller twin sister, Mizzy, is laying at my right side. They keep me company while I lay here and stare up at the ceiling, letting my eyes slowly travel along the edges of the room. I've got a lot of stuff. Maybe I should get rid of a lot of it; have myself a splendid little autumn decluttering.

Who am I kidding? I don't even know where to start. Everything feels like too much any more. It's all just… too much. Sometimes I wonder how much further I can go before I really start collapsing.

I drew in a breath, then let it out slow as I rested my eyes…

The sharp clang of a bell rang out, piercing through the open windows of the cottage. I immediately looked up from the book I was reading, just about the time Sebestha came in from the garden, wiping his paws with a tattered rag he then tossed on to the kitchen counter. I set the book down on the little table next to the chair I was sat in and hopped to my feet.

"Is that important? It sounds important."

Seb gave a small smile and nodded his head, ears swiveling toward the sound, then toward me when I spoke. "Y-Yeah. That's… that's…. we should… go. Er… we need to go."

Before I knew it, we were moving through the gathering crowd of townsfolk. A few glances were cast in my direction, one gruff looking dingo muttering loud enough for me to hear to his avian friend, "Tch… what's it doing here?"

Seb shot the two a glare, his paw finding my hand and giving it a squeeze. He may've been about to say something but everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to the raised stairs of the temple when Silva emerged from the towering double doors and barked. "Your attention!"

Silence washed over the town like a tide.

The captain of the guard continued, "We've received word from both the City by the Sea and Guttergorge that a new riftspire has formed. Kipsprawl is… has fallen."

Another wave surged through the crowd. Shocked gasps, hushed utterings of unbelief, tentative murmurs. A pair of felines near the front began to wail and sob, stifled cries of having family in the lost town. A lone gryphon near the back shouted: "Are we in danger?"

Silva held up a paw to keep everyone's attention. "The riftspire doesn't currently appear to be mobile. For the moment we're not in any immediate danger, but I will be enacting Watchtower protocol. If there are any volunteers, speak with Gris. I'd like to send out parties as soon as possible to the towers along the Border Ridge."

I looked around the crowd, studying faces. There was a tension in the air and worry etched across the features of many creatures. Seb's paw tightened around my hand and I felt myself squeezing in return as my gaze drifted back to Silva, whose expression was hard, a careful mask hiding her own concern as her tail twitched anxiously from side to side.

"Both City by the Sea and Guttergorge have received evacuees from Kipsprawl. If you had kith or kin there, please… I… I know it's painful. But please be patient. They have advised they will send additional correspondence once they have names." Silva closed her eyes for a flash and let out a breath. She recovered quickly, but I could see from where we were the way she gripped the handle of the blade she had sheathed at her hip.

"Shit…" Sebestha huffed out, his ears folded back. "Sil has a sister in Kipsprawl…"

"Those of you on the defense roster, we will be holding a meeting at the station within the hour. That's all." Her eyes sought us in the crowd. Well, they sought Seb, in any case. She gave him the barest of nods, which he returned. The crowd began to buzz with talk and grief and uncertainty then as it slowly started to break apart. Some wandering back to their homes in a daze, others staring blankly up at the temple as if it could possibly provide more information.

"Come on… we should prepare." Sebestha tugged on my arm and I turned, following silently, in my own daze as we moved in the direction of the cottage.

His paw never left my hand until we were in eyesight of the front door. I had so many questions boiling in my brain. The fox immediately began pulling things from the hall closet, rummaging through drawers. He brought out a pack and started to set what looked like emergency provisions out on the kitchen table. I stood there, blinking. Watching. Unsure. I felt small and unprepared for whatever this was. Anxiety pulsed its way through my body and I folded my arms, trying to keep from shivering.

I finally found my voice after managing to compile enough words together in my mind. "What… what's a riftspire?" I croaked out. That seemed to be enough to put myself in some sort of motion. I stepped toward the table and surveyed what Seb was gathering. "What all do you need to gather and how can I help?"

Sebestha didn't pause, just kept going back and forth from one spot to the next, then depositing things on to the table in what I thought were organized little piles. "A riftspire is… well… we… we don't really know what they are, exactly. We only know what… what they do…" He did manage to stop, paws wringing over the back of a chair. His eyes settled on mine. "They just show up… at random. Sometimes in uninhabited places, sometimes…" He let out a breath, shaking his head. "Whatever they are, they're… not like us… they're like these… wraiths that… absorb their fill and depart…"

I hadn't seen him worried like this before. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. But I stood still. "Ok. Wraith-like things with a morally questionable appetite. Got it." He gave me a look that said he didn't appreciate any light being made of the situation. I gave a sheepish smile and rolled my shoulders that indicated I couldn't help myself. And I couldn't. Humor was a coping mechanism for uncertain situations. "So…" I motioned to the table. "Tell me what you're doing. And tell me what I can do to help." I repeated, looking from the table to the fox. I didn't like how there was only one pack.

"I'm going… to take watch at one of the ridge towers…" He said, then quickly shuffled off down the hall to the bedroom like he was afraid of what I might have been going to say next. He returned shortly with a sleeping bag and long olive colored coat. He stood next to the chair again, draping the coat over the back, staring at the floor for a spell before grabbing the pack and setting it in the chair, fiddling with opening all the little pouches and drawstrings. "And… and I want you… to stay here."

Ah. That's what he was hesitant about wanting to say. "Sooooo. There's a big scary spear of darkness in the sky that may or may not come this way. And you want to go keep watch in a tower in the wilderness aaaaand… leave me here. Alone?" I raised a brow.

Seb frowned at me, snorting. "Yes. I want you here. Safe."

"I think I'd feel a whole helluva lot safer with you." I pointed at his pack. "Where's a second bag?"

He shook his head. "No. No, I want you… here. Please."

I was starting to panic and I think he could sense that because he closed the small distance between us and took me in his arms, hugging me to his chest, nuzzling over the top of my head. "I would feel better… knowing you were here. If the riftspire is… not moving… it will be safer. The closer… the more dangerous it…"

My hands pushed at his chest, struggling to lean back so I could look up at him. "So it's just fine and dandy for you to go put yourself closer to a probable shitstorm? That's not fair. I don't want to be…"

He stared down at me, his features shifting. It was almost like looking up at a completely different animal. "No." He repeated. "You don't know how to fight them, if worse comes to worse. Your grasp of magic is unpredictable at best. There are too many risks. As long as you remain here, I know you'll be safe. Do not argue this."

Sebestha stepped back then and began stuffing the items he'd assembled on the table in to the pack in a very precise this-belongs-in-this-pouch, and that-belongs-in-that-pouch kind of manner. I stared at him, arms folding at my chest again. I didn't appreciate what he had said. The tone he had used. The look in his eyes. Regardless of the fact that… he was absolutely correct. What good was I? I came from a world of mundanities where all-devouring wraith creatures were fiction. That didn't mean I had to like it.

"I'm scared." I finally squeaked out in a whisper, almost having to force it past trembling lips.

"Scared, yes. But safe." The fox replied, pulling the heavy coat on. And then he was holding me again, though I kept my arms crossed. "Hopefully it will only be a few days. We rotate in shifts. I'll return before you know it."

I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want him to see the tears that were burning at the corners of my eyes. He was the only thing that kept me tethered and put together and he was leaving me here. Putting himself in danger. It was selfish of me. It was one hundred percent absolutely childish. This was his world and he knew how it worked and how to work through it. With it. I knew… next to nothing, despite my best efforts to learn everything I could.

Those tears spilled down my cheek as he gently lifted my head and pressed his mouth to mine in a warm, lingering kiss. I shuddered then and leaned in to him, my arms finally moving to curl up his sides, fingers digging in to his back. When he finally pulled back he offered a smile, then leaned in against and rubbed his cheek against mine. His whiskers and warm breath tickling my ear. "I promise… I will be back. You won't be… alone for long. Please…" He stood, paw under my chin, making me meet his eyes. "Try… and be strong for me." And then he stepped back, his paws squeezing over my shoulders. That coldness broken by a genuine smile, full of all the affection he could muster. "I love you."

And then he was gone. And I was alone. So I did what any self respecting individual who hadn't a clue in the universe as to what was really going on did. I let my legs give out and sat on the floor, leaning against a leg of the table and cried. I cried because I really really really did not want to be there by myself. Because the thought of an entire town being inexplicably removed from the alive-and-thriving equation was suddenly a very real and terrifying thing. Because I didn't have to be miserable here, I could make myself happy. I was whole heartedly allowing myself to hurt myself for no good reason. And because… I didn't get to tell him that I loved him too.

I sniffled. Wiped my eyes. And made myself get up off the floor. Fine. If Option A wasn't a viable course of action, what was? I stumbled blankly through the cottage and closed doors, drawers and put the things he didn't take back where I thought they ought to be. I tidied up the kitchen. I swept. I made sure the inside plants were watered. Then I took my own long coat from the closet and shrugged it on and stepped outside. The sun was just beginning to tumble down from its apex as it unhurriedly conversed with the as-yet-to-be-seen moon, starting negotiations for their daily trade off.

If it was too dangerous to help Sebestha keep watch at the towers, then there had to be something I could help with in the town itself. Silva would know what I could do. There had to be something. I couldn't sit inside and worry. I couldn't pass the time by reading or anything else. My brain wouldn't let me. Besides, this was my community now too. I couldn't hide behind Sebestha forever.

I needed to help.

…

One twenty-eight. Post meridiem.

I stretch and grumble, pulling Mizzy in to a hug as I roll on to my side. I keep my eyes shut, just… existing in this space of moments. Then I kiss the top of her head and roll the opposite direction. I make myself get out of bed and I take my water bottle. I make myself leave the cozy confines of my bedroom and head downstairs to refill it. I make myself move, even if just a bit…

[jade-parcels]

🐕 NAUGHTY GOROU STUFF UNDER THE CUT!! MINORS GET OUT!!!🐕 (f!reader, oral(receiving), panty stuff, scent stuff idk)

We have all collectively agreed that Go is sensitive to smells. And it’s well known that dogs like to steal (or eat) their owners clothes because it makes them feel safe and they like their owners smell!! Not that I’m saying that being in a relationship with Gorou is owning him just cause he’s part dog SHHH

It just has me thinking about how he loooves your scent so much!! You probably don’t even realize you smell so good to him! If you’re sweaty, on your period, freshly showered, anything- he looooooves your scent so much!! His little obsession with your scent started off small. When you came to visit before you officially got together, he’d lay blankets over his chairs or on the ground to sit on, claiming his chairs are uncomfortable or the floor is cold. Once you’re gone, he’d wrap himself in those blankets, tail wagging as he enveloped himself in your scent! But it was never enough, your smell faded from the fabric so fast :( too fast!! It was barely there by time morning rolled around :( and once he got home from work that day his blankets didn’t smell like you at all :(

Cut to when you two are actually together but not…living together…yet. He’s very cuddly, wanting to just curl up against you and breathe in your sweet smell!! He won’t admit that!! That’s wayyyy too embarrassing :0 so he takes subtle, deep breaths as you talk about your day, turning his head just the slightest bit in order to give your shirt a good sniff. You smell like you’ve been to the ocean today! And like you had eaten at a food stall! And of course, your underlying scent is still there…Sweet, warm, comforting…

When you’re officially living together you’ll definitely notice the way he loves your clothes. He’ll wear your shirts to bed, giving you his best puppy eyes when you try to say no :( you monster!! You can’t say no to him :( the mix of getting to wear your clothes, preferably a pajama shirt you wore the night before, and getting to cuddle close to you beneath the covers- it’s like a dream come true!! And now we’re past the cute stuff…

Once Go has caught a scent he reallly likes it’s hard for him to not immediately get hard and have to step away to fix his ‘problem’, having to bite his own hand in order to prevent his pathetic little whines from being heard by his comrades. Sometimes he can snap himself out of it, he can splash water in his face or hold crushed grass against his nose to drown out that delicious scent…But you…There’s no way he can do that, he’s tried but nothing works!! He’s tried everything!! Once he gets a whiff of your cunt he’s in trouble, he’s just gotta submit to his own horniness

He used to sneak away to shamefully jerk himself off, hiding in his tent where no one could see this pitiful display. The resistance’s top general brought to his knees, ears twitching as he pants your name out over and over, crying out as he coats his hand white. Poor puppy… Thats not how he is anymore though. Now that you’re together, he’ll pull you aside to ‘have a chat’ or ‘strategize’ when he needs to. He paws at your clothes, brain foggy as he’s overcome with lust. He can’t even get your shirt off, there’s too many buttons!! :( he cries as he humps your leg, so impatient!! He just can’t wait, your shirt just has to stay on cause his focus is shifting to your cunt

He craves your scent and taste, you’d think he’s been starving for a century with the way he acts. His hot tongue presses against your clothed sex and he moans as he gets a taste of you through your panties. He licks and sucks at the fabric, groaning and making a mess as he drools all over you. Soon enough he’s ripping the crotch out of your panties with his teeth, gripping your thighs as he hurriedly laps at your folds, so so so eager to taste you! To indulge in your scent this way. Pure animal instincts kicking in. The sounds he makes are almost gross, he’s slurping, smacking his lips, moaning, making squelching sounds with his tongue- so gross but who cares, it feels nice! Don’t hold back, cum on his face it’s what he wants!! He’ll even beg you to, whining about how he wants you to make a mess on his face

But that isn’t enough, even if he makes you cum a few times and he cums in his pants just from eating you out- he still isn’t done!! He can’t be done until he sinks his cock into your welcoming, wet pussy. He’s so excited, flipping you over and shoving himself into you, rutting into you like an animal. His thrusts are messy, there’s not an ounce of rhythm there, he’s just manhandling you. Go’s lost in his lust for you, your name spilling out of his mouth over and over, drool and your cum glistening on his chin and cheeks. He’s so loud, so rough, too much-

And when he finally cums, he’s shaking, panting and whimpering as he spills his hot, thick load into you finally… but once isn’t enough. You can handle another round, right?? Please?? For him??

(Babes…I’m begging you to ignore any spelling errors ;-; I’ll cry and barf <3)

[nanabrainrot]

Look Don’t Touch

summary: yamaguchi has a jealousy streak. This is the closest he will get to heaven.

pairing: f!reader/tsukki; unrequited yamaguchi/f!reader

warning: nonconsensual voyeurism, unhealthy idealization, stalking, piv sex

they are in college and this fic extends into years later, when reader is betrothed to tsukki. There is a flashback to high school that is meant to show the level and length of yamaguchi’s affection. Hope u guys like :)

Yamaguchi saw you first, it wasn’t fair Tsukki of all people had you. Had you like this, nude and splayed, split by his cock and moaning like a whore stoked on aphrodisiacs. It was only fair he got to watch. He met you first, saw you first, wanted you first. He was just waiting to pounce when you chose Tsukki. Chose Tsukki. Chose Tsukki. Chose Kei.

-

You were often near the bus stop, fiddling with your phone, coated in silly, loud charms and a big bright phone case. Your necklace dangling, dipping into your cleavage as you looked at the game on your phone as you waited on your bus, your loose socks thick around your calves as your thighs shook in the cold. The hairstyle sometimes varied; a bun, a ponytail (high or low), braids, even two braids. The time he saw you with reading glasses on, he went home and came so hard to the thought he was sore the rest of the night.

Tsukki was your neighbor, an unfortunate fact Yamaguchi realized when he had seen you on your porch watering your plants, inspecting their leaves and switching some soils. You blushed at Tsukki’s presence and he did yours. Tsukki was secretive, observant of Yamaguchi’s behaviors, and never said that he was dating, completely enamored, and regularly fucking the girl he was enamored with.

Pity is a strong feeling.

-

When you stand diagonal from the living room window of your home, if you stand on the log in the wood, you get a view of the living room sofa. It is cold, even to bother someone who didn’t bundle up; Saturday nights are the best show, though, and who is he to miss it?

You’re ecstatic and enthusiastic, pawing and cooing at him like a newlywed though the way you twitched your hips when you came you looked like a street whore taken home for a couple grand and a steak dinner. You looked at him with this love, this affection, adoration that Yamaguchi always felt a little strain at the sight of, but the heart wants what the heart wants and the cock can want it more. He was never in his right head when he realized what kind of a girl you were: the one he couldn’t have.

Tsukki comes in the door at 6pm and by 6:30pm, he usually has you prepped to fuck, by 6:35pm you would always be getting fucked on that loveseat your poor parents bought. He always starts in missionary, Yamaguchi observed, lips locked and tongues tied like air wasn’t even there. Your arms around his shoulders, his hands hooked under your arms to tenderly hold your head. He made love to you, though the force of his hips always said otherwise.

By 7pm, you were always riding. Bouncing like Tsukki was going to fucking war tomorrow. 7:30, cunninglingus. 8, a blowjob. 8:30, doggy, 8:45 reverse cowgirl. He could read it like clockwork, it was so natural for you too it didn’t even register as ritualistic. By night, you would let him out the front door, holding his hand, stroking his arm on the way out, peppering his face in kisses.

Yamaguchi pulls the hood over his head, his cock a bit cold from the friction of his frantic rubbing, drying to drink in this holy sight and memorize it and glue into the crevices of his brain, every single sulci and gyri. There is cum on your rotting wooden fence facing south, but you know nothing as you swish that soft loofah pink and pretty coated in flowery shower gel over the valley of your tits, of your ass, the folds of your flesh that was begging to be stroked and caressed. When night comes, you were in bed like you weren’t used like a bitch in heat for breeding, the cami you wore tight when your nipples hardened, the shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. He can picture it so clearly.

Yamaguchi knows you like clockwork by now, by the scent of the flower gel, your girlish shimmer body mist, the slick and expensive fragrance body butter, the raspberry shaving cream and chipped orange and green nail polish with a sloppy “11” painted on the pointer and middle fingers, 17 on the others. Even the deodorant (aluminum-free), the clarifying shampoo, the conditioner, the fucking glasses cleaner. Yamaguchi could die in your name, even as you struggle to pronounce the syllables, trying to recall and apply his name to his freckled face.

-

“Yamaguchi? Is that right?” you smiled sheepishly, your fingers stroking Kei’s knuckles for comfort as he stood next to you, hand in hand. Ah, like silk. If only he could hear that as his ringtone, as his alarm, his text tone, if only he could hear you moan it as you clawed at his back.

His dick twitches.

“Yeah. (Y/n), right?” You shouldn’t lust after a taken woman. Oh, fuck it, it’s way too late.

[husbandohunter]

A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~

A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]

♤♡◇♧☆

Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti

(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.

=======================

[Diluc]

Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.

As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.

So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"

"Meow." He has alot to learn.

Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.

~xx~

[Kaeya]

If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.

Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.

There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).

Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.

~xx~

[Xiao]

If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.

Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.

As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3

"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."

You stay.

~xx~

[Albedo]

The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.

Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.

He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.

On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.

~xx~

[Zhongli]

Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).

How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.

"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."

Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.

~xx~

[Childe]

Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.

He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.

Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.

Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.

You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.

~xx~

[Venti]

Achoo!

You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.

Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.

"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"

No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.

[jawllines]

miss jaws !!!! pretty pls could you soon give us that witchrry catch up you promised us ???? 💟☹️

OH YES! IM SORRY HERE YOU GO

i.

“I do not like this form, human! Change me back at once!”

When Y/N said she wanted to try the spell that could give a familiar a human body for a little while, she really had not expected it to go over like this.

How she did imagine it was something cute and simple. She and Harry having nothing to do on a Saturday night bored out of their whits and looking for some mild entertainment. Y/N would remember that she’d seen this spell flipping through one of the books that her Nan sent her in the mail, she’d tell him they should try it, and Harry would agree, of course, because who didn’t want to see an animal as a human? It would be fun, they would get to see what Thumper and Oat would be like as something other than furry little mammals, and then they would change them back and that would be that.

However, when you’re a witch, things rarely go as planned or even think about being as easy. Maybe it was Y/N’s fault (it definitely was), but she had sort of jumped the gun on waiting for a Saturday night that she and Harry were both bored. Instead, on a Thursday night when Harry is supposed to come over after doing some business at one of the bars here, Y/N thought she should just go ahead and make the concoction now. That’s all it was -- some special herbs and mixes that the familiar would consume. She thought it would be easy to just make it, set up somewhere high that Thumper and Oat (who she watched while Harry was working) wouldn’t be able to reach it, and then surprise Harry with the fact that she had made it once he got back.

But of course, just as soon as she’s turned her back to get the lid for the bowl she’d made it in, she turns around to see Thumper with his face buried in the mix, “Hey!” She cried out, but it was already much too late; Thumper’s little nose twitched as it was covered in the pink substance, and there is a flash of light so blinding that Y/N has to close her eyes. When she opens them. . .well, she made the potion correctly. In the place of her grumpy little bunny there is a grumpy looking guy with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. He had hair as white as Thumper’s fur, very dark colored eyes, and stark naked.

Y/N squealed, covering her eyes but before she could she saw him cover his ears, “Loud! Stop that!”

“I’m sorry,” she rushed to say, a little quieter, “Cover your -- cover your bits!”

“My what?” He sounded irritated, Y/N could only huff -- even if she hadn’t witnessed it happening, there would be no doubt in her mind that this attitude was coming from her bunny.

“The dangly thing between your legs,” she urges, “Cover it!”

There is a disgruntled sigh, “You are so rude! Why am I human? I want to be a bunny again!”

Y/N peeked her eyes open a little to make sure he had something over him, and she sees he’d settled with his hand, “Well if you would have just waited instead of sticking your nose in something that wasn’t yours, I could have explained what it was before you went and eat it! You’re such a naughty bunny.”

“I am not! You are a naughty witch. Who wants to be human anyway?” He plucked Oat up when had come around to sniff the bowl, “Don’t eat this Oat, it tastes like oranges, limes, and lemons all wrapped into one.”

Squinting, Y/N is about to scold him for being mean when the sound of a throat clearing drags their attention away from glaring at each other. He looks confused, his head tilted and his mouth had fallen open just slightly, “Who is the naked guy?” He inquired casually and said naked guy, turns his nose up at him.

“I am Thumper, can’t you see?” He sneered.

“Thumper, be nice!”

Harry hums low, “I could have sworn Thumper was about 60 centimeters tall and also a rabbit.”

“I made that -- the potion thingy, to give the familiar a human form, remember? And I was going to cover it and wait until you got home so that we could try it but someone immediately went over and started eating it!” Y/N looked back over to Thumper who is still scowling, and this is around the time he would usually stomp his foot then hop away to a different room. Seeing as he can’t hop, he stomps his foot and storms out of the room instead, still clutching Oat to his chest.

When they were out of the room, Y/N turned to face Harry with a deep pout on her mouth. He chuckled warmly, opening his arms for her, and she crosses the room to him quickly. She buries her face in his neck (he smelled like cold air and pine needles) and melts into the hug, “You’re silly, d’ya know that?” He rubbed up and down her back in large circles, “You know Thumper never minds his business when you make something that looks edible. And can I be honest? I really didn’t expect him to look. . .”

“Cute?” Y/N fills in for him, and Harry hums in agreement, “Yeah, I always imagined him as a grumpy old sod in his 70s, so you can say I’m also a little shocked.”

He laughs again, only this time he slipped away from her, looping his fingers around her wrist, “C’mon,” he murmured, “Let’s go see what they’re up to before he burns the flat down out of spite.”

. . .

As always, for some reason or another, Thumper takes better to Harry despite literally being Y/N’s familiar. He eventually calms down but only because Harry offered him the whole bag of carrot chips in the fridge, and asks him what he would like to watch on TV. When he choose animal planet, both Y/N and Harry hold back a snicker so they wouldn’t piss him off all over again. And despite not being happy about it, he does put on the boxers Harry gives him.

And like always, while Y/N and Harry are snuggled together on the couch watching the telly and waiting out for Thumper to relax enough to stop grumbling and grousing about how much this form stinks. He was always grumpy for a time but then relaxed after a while and usually crawled his way into Y/N or Harry’s lap to sleep. They figured he would alter it some since now he was about 160lbs at 6ft, but Thumper was not one to conform to anything with others in mind. If he wanted in a lap, he was getting in a lap, which is how Harry and Y/N both ended up with him stretched out across their thighs with his head resting on the couch pillow.

It was odd, but objectively, weirder things had happened.

He told them Oat didn’t want to be a human and kept her cuddled against him so he could “protect her from you rotten humans” and they both allowed it to happen, so she was snuggled up too. It was just a big cuddle pile, much how they usually are only with more human legs and arms than usual. Ultimately, he did calm down enough that they could pick his brain a little bit, and learn more about him than what was usually permitted between he and Y/N’s thought transference. Even then, at his calmest, it was like pulling teeth to get much of anything out of him.

“How long have you been around?”

“A very long time.”

“Well, yeah, but in years --”

“Many years.”

Y/N sighed, and Harry would squeeze her shoulder, chewing hard on his lip to stop himself from giggling, “Alright,” she continued, “Where were you born?”

“Earth.”

“Thumper,” Harry plucked Oat up from where she’d been sitting on his shoulder, “Oat wants to know too, she said! You wouldn’t keep her from knowing, would you?”

Thumper, whose eyes had been closed (they were completely black, which was a little startling to say the least, but nobody brings it up), blinks one of them open and peeks over at Oat who is looking at him with her head tilted. With a small huff, he readjusted himself, closing his eyes once more, “I have been around for 980 years,” he answered, and a small smile twitches at his mouth when they both gasp, “I was born in the Netherlands, and my first owner called me Finn. I hate this name, but she was not a witch and often fed me many good plants from her garden, so I suffered through it.”

Under the guise of Oat wanting to know, Thumper tells them plenty about himself, and it becomes quite clear why he was such a grumpy guy. He’d been around for years upon years and constantly switched owners, more often than not because they did something to upset him. Sometimes they would forget about him, sometimes they would step on his paw, other times they would call him mean names, and the worst of it -- they would punish him for nibbling on things. “I always wait for you to do something to upset me, but you have done nothing yet.”

“Shouldn’t you give me the benefit of the doubt at this point?” She patted at his full belly and he swatted her hand, “You did come to my doorstep didn’t you? S’not even like I stole you from the woods.”

“I smelled fresh fruit and plants, how was I to know I’d find a gardening witch? The imprinting was unintentional!”

Y/N pouted, Harry tugged her closer to him though and traced looping patterns into her arm, “You know he loves you,” Harry tells her, then takes a turn to poke at Thumper’s belly -- he swats him away too which makes Y/N feel a little better, “Oat tells me all the time how much nice stuff he says about you. He even comforts you when you’re sad! I think this grumpy stuff is all an act.”

Thumper’s brows furrow but he does not deny it, instead, he crosses his arms and turns his face away.

She smiles.

He eventually changes back after five hours and it was while they all had fallen asleep. One moment there was a very heavy presence with their arms circled around Y/N’s waist, with their head on her belly -- the next there’s a furry little body sat in her lap. He curled up in a tighter ball and snuggled nearer -- he didn’t even nip her when she pulled him up to sleep in her arms. Y/N maneuvers them both, and in doing so stirs Harry, who accommodates her. Her back to his chest, his arm flopped over her body, Thumper in her arms, and Oat sleeping at the top of Harry’s head.

Y/N wonders how she ever got to sleep without being like this.