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peppymintdreams · 6 months ago

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PEPPYYYY.... I got a question.... is it PAWsible... to make one where the saku boys encounter a WIZARD and turn into cats? :3

(idk if uve done this one already but oh well! 🤷‍♀️)

PENELOPEEE.. yes my child it is “PAWsible”

Mint-fact I have actually multiple scrapped fanfics of the sakuboys as cats most of them being Luca as that was back when I was a Luca fanatic

Paws and Claws

Oh no your boyfriends or husband in Luca’s case have turned into adorable little kitties what will you do 😱

Luca

There’s a difference between loving cats and becoming a cat

Luca set out for a walk, Mocha trailing behind him, curious about the scents of the world beyond their apartment. He wasn’t expecting much—just a nice, peaceful stroll through the park, maybe some light shopping on the way back, or a stop at their favorite coffee shop.

But nothing about the day would be ordinary.

Luca had wandered farther than usual, deep into a part of the park he hadn’t explored before. The trees here were dense, and the path winding through them was less maintained, as though it had been forgotten. It wasn’t quite spooky, but there was something off about it—an odd stillness that made Luca uneasy. Mocha, for once, wasn’t bounding ahead, sticking close to Luca’s side as he took tentative steps.

“Hmm,” Luca mumbled to himself, glancing around. “I don’t think I’ve been here before.”

He kept walking, drawn by the curiosity that seemed to tug at him. It wasn’t long before he came upon a small clearing, where an old man in a long, tattered robe stood by a large, ancient-looking tree. His eyes, a vibrant green, were focused on Luca in a way that made him freeze in his tracks.

“Hello,” the old man said, his voice oddly soft. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Luca blinked. “What? Um, I think you’ve got the wrong person…”

The man smiled warmly, though there was something peculiar about his expression. “Oh, not at all. You’ve been wandering, haven’t you? Well, I have something special for you.”

Before Luca could even protest, the wizard raised a hand and muttered something under his breath. Luca felt a sudden, sharp tug in his chest, like a force had gripped him from within. He gasped, eyes widening as his body began to shrink. His limbs shortened, fur sprouted across his skin, and his balance was lost as he crashed to the ground, no longer standing on two feet, but on four.

His entire form had transformed into that of a small, fluffy black cat, the sound of his surprised meow echoing in the clearing.

Luca—now a cat—stared up at the wizard in horror. His mind raced, but his new feline body wasn’t responding the way he wanted. All that came out of his mouth were confused, indignant yowls.

“W-Wait, what did you do to me?!” Luca’s voice—now a shrill, annoyed meow—echoed in his mind. “Why am I a cat?!”

The wizard chuckled, seemingly amused by Luca’s reaction. “Ah, no need to worry. You’re simply a cat for now. It’s not permanent. Consider it a little lesson in perspective. Sometimes, one must see the world from a different angle.”

Luca’s eyes narrowed, his feline ears flattening against his head. “This is not funny. Change me back right now!”

The old man chuckled again, waving his hand dismissively. “In due time, in due time. Enjoy your new form while it lasts, little one. You’ll find it’s not as bad as you think.”

The wizard began to fade from view, disappearing into the air like mist in the morning sunlight, leaving Luca alone in the clearing with nothing but his newfound feline form—and the very real frustration bubbling within him.

Luca—still reeling—attempted to stand up on his four little paws. His balance was off, and he tumbled forward, landing face-first into the grass. He let out another annoyed yowl, his tail swishing in irritation. “This is so embarrassing…”

The worst part was Mocha, who had been suspiciously quiet until now. Luca glanced over and saw her, sitting nearby, her wide eyes trained on him. “Mocha…” Luca whimpered, his voice coming out as an exaggerated meow.

The kitten blinked, cocking her head to the side. Then, to Luca’s horror, she began to approach him, sniffing him as though he were some kind of toy or an unfamiliar animal. The fact that she seemed more curious about him than he did about his own transformation sent a pang of discomfort through Luca’s cat-shaped chest.

“This is so wrong,” Luca groaned internally.

He tried again to walk, this time a little more cautiously. His little paws scrabbled at the ground as he gained some balance, finally managing to take a few steps. His tail flicked wildly behind him, betraying his frustration.

Luca didn’t know how long he would be stuck like this, or if he’d even get back to his usual form. He was more than ready to find a way to reverse this strange, magical curse—but first, he had to survive the humiliation of being a cat for the time being.

After a few awkward steps, Luca sat down in the middle of the clearing, his tail curled protectively around his tiny paws. He wasn’t sure if he could trust the wizard’s words—that it wouldn’t be permanent—but for now, he could only hope he’d be able to figure something out.

Back at the apartment, MC was just finishing a call when they heard a scratching at the door. They opened it and were met with the sight of Mocha, who immediately bolted inside, tail high and proud.

But Luca—well, Luca had followed her, though much more slowly, now in his small feline form. MC froze, blinking in confusion as the black cat sat at their feet and gave them an almost indignant stare.

“You… you’re Luca?” MC asked, kneeling down in surprise.

Luca—still a cat—gave a disgruntled meow, rubbing his face against MC’s leg as if to say, “Yes, I’m Luca, and yes, this is happening.”

MC chuckled softly, scooping him up. “You’re not going to believe this, but I think you make a pretty cute cat.”

Luca growled in response, his tiny body wiggling in MC’s arms. “I’ll never forgive that wizard for this…”

But even in his frustration, MC couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, Luca. We’ll figure this out. But for now… you look adorable.”

Luca huffed in response, curling up against MC’s chest, realizing that perhaps—just perhaps—being a cat wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.

But he would still never admit that.

For now, Luca’s day would be spent getting used to being small and fluffy and enjoying getting a lot of pets and pampering from his lovely partner

Isaac

Isaac prided himself on being unshakable, a fortress of composure even in the most bizarre situations. But standing in the middle of a forest clearing, staring down a self-proclaimed wizard with a crooked staff and glittering robes, he felt his patience—already thin—begin to snap.

"I’ll say this once," Isaac growled, his tone sharp as steel. "Hand over what you’ve taken from my client, or I’ll make sure this conversation ends very differently for you."

The wizard merely smirked, swirling his staff in an exaggerated arc. "Oh, but where’s the fun in surrendering, hmm? You have the air of a man who doesn’t know his place. Perhaps a lesson in humility is in order."

Isaac’s jaw tightened. "Don’t waste my time with theatrics."

The wizard chuckled darkly, muttering a string of incantations under his breath. Before Isaac could lunge forward, a burst of shimmering light enveloped him, blinding and disorienting.

When the glow faded, Isaac blinked—or tried to. Something felt... off. He looked down, expecting to see his hands gripping the hem of his coat. Instead, he saw paws. Small, jet-black paws.

A low growl escaped him—or at least, he intended to growl. What came out instead was an irritated mrrroww.

"Much better," the wizard mused, crouching to meet Isaac’s narrowed, feline glare. "A sleek, formidable creature, but utterly powerless. Fitting, wouldn’t you say?"

Isaac’s tail lashed involuntarily as rage boiled in his chest. Powerless? He would show this fool just how wrong he was.

The wizard straightened, dusting off his robes. "Don’t worry, little one. The spell will wear off... eventually. Until then, consider it a chance to reflect on your arrogance." With a final swirl of his staff, he vanished, leaving nothing but the faint scent of ozone behind.

Isaac stared at the spot where the wizard had stood, his sharp feline mind racing.

Hours later, the front door of his home creaked open, and Pickle’s voice rang out from the entryway.

"Isaac? You’re home early—"

Their words trailed off as they spotted the sleek black cat sitting stiffly in the middle of the living room, its emerald eyes uncomfortably familiar.

"...Isaac?" they ventured cautiously, crouching to meet the cat’s gaze.

Isaac gave a pointed mrrrow, his tail flicking in what he hoped conveyed exasperation.

Pickle stared for a moment before realization dawned. "Oh my god," they whispered, a hand flying to their mouth. "You’re... you’re a cat?"

The glare Isaac shot them could have leveled mountains.

Despite the absurdity of the situation, Pickle couldn’t suppress a small laugh. "Well, I guess the wizard wasn’t bluffing."

Isaac padded over to them, his movements sharp and deliberate, and batted at their shin with his paw, a silent do something about this.

"Alright, alright," Pickle said, holding up their hands. "Let me see if I can find a counterspell or something. But, uh..." They hesitated, a mischievous grin creeping across their face. "You are kind of cute like this."

Isaac’s ears flattened against his head, his tail whipping behind him like a storm.

"I’m kidding!" Pickle said quickly, though the amused glint in their eyes betrayed them. "Okay, serious mode. Let’s figure this out."

Over the next several hours, Isaac endured what he would later describe as the single most humiliating experience of his life.

Pickle, despite their best intentions, couldn’t resist cooing over his soft fur and scratching behind his ears—something he discovered, to his dismay, was irritatingly pleasant.

When they finally found a spellbook hidden deep in the Rhoades library and began flipping through pages, Isaac leaped onto the table beside them, peering at the text with laser focus.

"You know," Pickle said as they worked, "I’m starting to think you might actually enjoy being a cat. You’re all broody and mysterious—kind of suits you."

Isaac swatted at their hand, his claws sheathed but his message clear: Don’t push it.

After what felt like an eternity, Pickle finally found the reversal incantation. They recited the words carefully, their voice steady, and another burst of light enveloped the room.

When the glow faded, Isaac stood in his human form once more, his expression as composed as ever—save for the faint twitch of his jaw.

Pickle grinned up at him, unabashed. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

Isaac adjusted his coat, his emerald eyes locking onto theirs. "Like I’m never letting you call me ‘cute’ again."

Pickle laughed, but the sound faltered under the weight of his intense gaze.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble for me.”

Pickle tilted their head. “Of course I did. I’m not leaving you stuck as a cat forever. Besides...” Their grin returned. “Who else is going to make fun of you for this later?”

A rare smirk curved Isaac’s lips. “I’ll remember that.”

Pickle’s laughter rang out again, and for the first time since the strange ordeal began, Isaac allowed himself to relax.

"Next time," he said, his tone dry but tinged with amusement, "remind me to stay far away from wizards."

Andrew

Andrew glared at the wizard—or at least, he tried to. It was difficult to look menacing when you were a cat. A sleek golden brown cat, no less, with bright green eyes and a tail that twitched with irritation.

“This is absurd,” he hissed.

The wizard, an older man with a beard so long it could trip him, simply chuckled as he twirled his staff. “You’ll find this... enlightening,” he said cryptically, then disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Andrew sat down on his haunches, tail flicking. Enlightening? What was this supposed to teach him—how to get fur everywhere?

“Andrew?”

He perked up at the familiar voice. Darling’s voice. Relief surged through him, but as they walked into the clearing, his stomach sank. How was he going to explain this?

“Andrew, where are you?” Darling called, glancing around.

He meowed. Loudly.

Darling froze, their eyes landing on him. “Oh. Hi, little guy. Where did you come from?”

Little guy? Andrew thought indignantly. He padded closer, weaving around their legs to get their attention.

Darling crouched down, rubbing his ears gently. He almost melted into their touch before catching himself. No. Focus. He had to get their attention, not enjoy being pet like a common house cat.

“Are you lost?” they murmured.

Andrew meowed again, this time more pointedly.

Darling tilted their head. “Huh. You remind me of someone.”

Yes, me, he thought, narrowing his eyes.

They stood, brushing dirt off their knees. “Well, I can’t leave you out here alone. Come on.”

Before he could protest—or, well, meow more aggressively—Darling scooped him up, cradling him to their chest. He stiffened at first, but the warmth of their arms and the steady rhythm of their heartbeat calmed him despite himself.

“Guess you’re coming home with me,” Darling said with a soft smile.

Back at their apartment, Andrew sat on the couch, fur bristling as Darling set down a bowl of water and some tuna.

“You must be starving,” they said.

He gave them an unimpressed look. I’m not eating tuna like some stray, he thought, though his stomach growled in betrayal.

Darling chuckled. “You’re picky, huh? Fine. I’ll get you something else later.”

As they sat beside him, flipping through their phone, Andrew took the chance to inspect himself. He licked a paw experimentally, grimacing at the instinctive motion.

“Why do you seem so... familiar?” Darling murmured, their brow furrowing as they studied him.

Andrew stared back, willing them to figure it out.

“You’ve got his eyes,” they said, more to themselves. “And that grumpy look. Are you channeling Andrew Marston or something?”

He let out a low, indignant growl.

Darling laughed. “Okay, okay. You’re cute, though. Andrew could take a few lessons from you.”

Cute? Lessons?! If he weren’t trapped as a cat, he’d have given them a lecture about how he was the one always saving the day.

As the night went on, Andrew found himself reluctantly enjoying the domesticity. Darling carried him around, scratching behind his ears, even letting him curl up in their lap while they read.

Still, he needed to fix this.

Hours later, just as Darling dozed off on the couch, the wizard reappeared with a flourish.

“Learn anything, Andrew?” he asked with a sly grin.

Andrew let out a furious yowl that woke Darling instantly.

The wizard chuckled. “Alright, alright. Back to your usual self.”

With a wave of his staff, Andrew’s body shimmered, shifting back into his human form. He stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the wizard.

Darling blinked, their eyes wide. “Andrew?! What the—”

“Long story,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. “Remind me to explain later.”

The wizard vanished again before Andrew could hurl any choice words his way, leaving him alone with Darling.

“You were the cat?” they asked, still processing.

“Yes,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “And if you tell anyone about this—”

“You purred,” they interrupted, their lips twitching.

He groaned, turning away, but they grabbed his arm, their laughter bubbling over. “No, wait! I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Andrew sighed, but when Darling pulled him into a hug, the irritation in his chest softened. He wrapped an arm around them, grateful to be himself again—though he’d never admit how much he’d enjoyed their care.

“Well,” they teased, resting their head on his shoulder, “at least now I know you can be adorable and insufferable.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Elias

Elias stormed into the safe house, slamming the door behind him. "You are not going to believe what just happened," he growled—or, rather, attempted to growl. What came out instead was a soft, unimposing meow.

Barista, lounging on the couch with a book in hand, froze mid-page turn. Slowly, they looked up, their gaze landing on the sleek black cat standing in the doorway. Its fur was shiny, its ears twitching in irritation, and its bright brown eyes were unmistakably… Elias’s.

"Elias?" Barista asked, setting the book aside.

"Yes, it’s me!" Elias snapped—or tried to. Another meow spilled out, and his tail lashed angrily. "Don’t laugh."

Barista pressed their lips together, trying very hard to obey. "What... happened?"

Elias jumped up onto the coffee table, his paws landing with a soft thud. "There was this wizard, okay? Some weirdo in a pointy hat downtown. I may or may not have insulted his robe—it looked like a cheap Halloween costume!"

Barista raised an eyebrow. "So, you insulted a wizard, and he cursed you?"

"Yes!" Elias sat down, wrapping his tail around his paws indignantly. "And then he turned me into this!" He gestured to himself with one tiny paw.

Barista bit back a laugh, their shoulders shaking. "You... you couldn’t just walk away, huh?"

"Of course not! He insulted me first!" Elias tried to puff out his chest, but the effect was entirely ruined by the way his ears flattened against his head.

Barista finally let out a snort, unable to hold it in any longer. "You’re a cat now. You’re literally a walking, talking—well, meowing—example of your own stubbornness."

"Not funny!" Elias hissed, but his voice came out as an adorable hisss!.

Barista reached out and scooped him up before he could protest. "Aw, look at you," they teased, cradling him in their arms like a baby. "You’re so fluffy!"

"Put me down!" Elias squirmed, his claws digging into Barista’s shirt.

"Nope." Barista scratched behind his ears, causing him to freeze mid-protest. His eyes fluttered shut, and a deep, involuntary purr rumbled from his chest.

"Damn it," he muttered, his voice muffled by the fur in his own tail as he tried to hide his face.

Barista smirked, walking toward the kitchen. "Don’t worry, Elias. We’ll figure out how to fix this. In the meantime, I think I have some tuna."

"If you feed me cat food, I swear I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" Barista interrupted, holding him up to meet their amused gaze. "Scratch me? Knock a glass off the counter? Face it, furball, you’re stuck like this until we find that wizard again."

Elias grumbled under his breath as Barista set him down on the counter. "This is humiliating," he said, grooming one paw with a defeated look.

Barista leaned in, giving him a playful smirk. "Don’t worry, kitty. I think you’re adorable."

Elias’s tail swished furiously, but his ears betrayed him, twitching slightly at the compliment. "I hate everything about this," he muttered, but the soft purring that followed gave him away

Xanthus

Xanthus had encountered countless strange beings in his immortal life—vampires, witches, demons—but wizards had always been an elusive lot, preferring their secluded towers and their convoluted spells. So, when one appeared in front of him during his evening stroll with a gleeful grin and a staff tipped with a swirling sapphire, he should have known something was about to go awry.

“Ah, the infamous Xanthus,” the wizard drawled, adjusting his oversized hat. His robes shimmered in hues of green and gold, catching the moonlight in a way that was far too theatrical. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Xanthus crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Then you must know it’s unwise to stand in my way.”

The wizard’s grin widened. “Oh, I’m counting on that. Let’s see how fearsome you are... like this!”

Before Xanthus could respond, the wizard waved his staff, and a burst of shimmering blue energy enveloped him. The sensation was brief but disorienting—his vision swirled, his balance shifted, and a strange warmth spread through his body.

When the light faded, the wizard let out a triumphant laugh. “Perfect! That should temper your arrogance for a while.”

“What have you—” Xanthus began, only to stop abruptly. His voice was... wrong. Higher-pitched, soft, and—

He looked down.

Paws. Silver, velvety paws where his hands should have been. His eyes widened as he glanced at his reflection in a nearby puddle. The once-imposing vampire now stood as a sleek sparkly silver cat, his ruby red eyes the only familiar feature.

The wizard cackled. “You’re adorable! A bit of humility will do wonders for you, don’t you think?” With a wave of his hand, he vanished into the night, leaving a very unimpressed feline in his wake.

Xanthus slunk back to his home, his tail flicking irritably behind him. He pushed open the door with his head and padded into the living room, where you were curled up on the couch with a book.

You looked up at the sound of the door and froze. “Oh my god,” you whispered. “A cat?”

He hopped onto the armrest, glaring at you in what he hoped was a dignified manner.

“Where did you come from?” you asked, setting the book aside. You reached out to scratch behind his ears, and he instinctively leaned into the touch before pulling back, horrified at himself.

“Wait... you’re Xanthus?” you gasped, noticing the familiar piercing Red gaze.

He gave a low, disgruntled meow.

You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Oh, this is amazing.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that his tail had started swishing indignantly.

“Who did this to you?” you asked, still grinning as you scooped him up into your arms. “Wait, don’t tell me—a wizard? Classic.”

He let out a pitiful, resigned meow, which only made you laugh harder.

Over the next few days, you took great joy in teasing your feline vampire. You bought him a tiny red collar with a bell, much to his annoyance, and delighted in watching him sulk in indignation.

“Come on, you look adorable,” you teased, holding up a mirror.

He swatted it out of your hands with a well-aimed paw.

At night, he refused to sleep anywhere but on your pillow, his small form curled up next to your head. He’d occasionally nip at your fingers to remind you of who was truly in charge, though it was difficult to take him seriously when his fur was so soft.

The wizard eventually reappeared a week later, laughing at the sight of Xanthus perched on your lap like a pampered house cat.

“Well, well,” the wizard said, “it seems you’ve adapted nicely.”

Xanthus leaped down, his fur bristling as he hissed.

The wizard chuckled, waving his staff. “Fine, fine. I’ll reverse it. But next time, remember—don’t cross a wizard.”

With a swirl of light, Xanthus returned to his usual form, looming over the now-nervous wizard.

“Oh,” the wizard muttered. “Right. Forgot how tall you were.”

Xanthus grabbed him by the collar, his Ruby Red eyes glinting dangerously. “Next time,” he growled, “I won’t be so forgiving.”

The wizard gulped, vanishing with a puff of smoke.

You stifled a laugh as Xanthus turned to you, his expression dark.

“You’re never buying me a collar again,” he muttered.

“But you were so cute!” you teased, only to earn a glare that promised vengeance

🍬

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