[click for details] The council (poll) has spoken with a clear winner! and here they are! Pyro warrior cat >:D!!
Probably the most difficult one yet, but I had a lot of fun trying to problem solve how to design them in a way that still maintained their anonymity
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Always have flowers in their pelts!
Covered in thick mud constantly (they like it :] dries a bit near rear.)
"Mask" is a trash bag and plastic bottle with a wet rag inside (made by their respective Engineers.)
"Flamethrower" is an ignited stick covered in pine resin.
In battle, either Pyro will take a mouthful of a mixture made from prey's fatty oils and tree sap and spray it on their breath onto the ignited stick while aiming with their tail (think a fire breather.)
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New headcannon! In relation to this. If we took that as being something that could have happened with the same Cross and Dream from darkcream, my headcannon iss.
Cross never actually read Dream this letter, perhaps tried to throw it out, but Dream saved it. He later comes to realise it might have been some sort of love confession, based on context of what happens soon afterwards. But he still doesn't actually know what it actually says.
Only then years later, handing the letter back to Cross, to ask him to read it to him on there wedding night.
Sickly sweet, but wanted to share something none angst related
Too sweet to resist ♡
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living weapon whumpee who's never known anything but pain and violence.
their existence hurts. they were made to be effective, not happy, and their masters decided that keeping them in constant pain provided better results. they're wilder, more unpredictable, and the pain keeps them from thinking straight enough to question anything.
they're only given painkillers, only allowed a respite from their seemingly endless suffering, after a successful mission. it keeps them loyal, and most importantly, teaches their brain to associate acts of violence with relief and rewards.
everyone they've ever met has treated them as a tool, a monster, or both. they don't know how to be anything else.
that is until they're rampaging through a village, destroying, killing, whatever their masters demand of them. whatever will give them a few blissful hours of numbness.
one of the villagers steps out of a ruined building and looks them straight in the eyes. whumpee expects fear, hatred, disgust, the things they see in the faces of every person who's ever crossed their path. but they see something completely different.
compassion.
whumpee is so stunned, they don't think to move or do anything at all as the villager steps closer, gently reaching out a hand to cup whumpee's face.
"oh, poor thing." they murmur, taking in the creature in front of them - part human, part animal, part machine. "they've done a number on you, huh?"
whumpee blinks at them. pain continues to course through their body, but the gentle hand on their cheek distracts them, even if just a little. all the indistinct noise in their foggy, addled mind finally goes quiet.
caretaker had stepped out in front of the being destroying their home with the intention to get through to it or die trying, and the expectation to absolutely die trying.
they did not at all expect the seemingly feral mishmash of metal, fur, and flesh to lean so heavily into their touch that they nearly collapsed into caretaker's arms.
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