Chapter Text
Africa: Pliocene
A lone australopithecus wondered along the river shore seeking for his next meal. Let's just call him Hewey. He knew there was a termite hill just down a little ways, and he was practically salivating from remembering how the delectable little insects crunched between his molars, and how the juices flowed down the back of his tongue. He also didn't realize that it would be his last meal of the day.
When Hewey found the mound of crawling wood eaters, he grabbed a nearby stick and started prodding at the small holes doting the hill, pulling ten to twenty termites out at a time. He quickly plucked them off one by one with his lips. He grunted with enthusiasm. The hill was overflowing with termites today. He ate his fill and ambled to the river to take a few sips of the muddy water, and wearily kept his eyes open for any of the long, cold-blooded reptiles that inhabited the waters. The thought of their long snout full of sharp teeth pulling him into the dark depths made him shudder.
There was a light breeze blowing in from the west; hot and uncomfortable against his furry hide. It suited him just fine though. The breeze would alert Hewey of any predators lurking within the underbrush that lead back to the edge of the jungle where his troop rested.
With a snort, the primate stood as tall as he could on his stocky legs and hurried back toward the jungle. The sun was setting behind him, lighting the path before him. At least Hewey would be able to see something if it approached him from the front or his peripheral. However, he wasn't all that stupid either. He knew that the predators in this area stalked their victims from behind or from the sides...well victims like him anyways. He didn't have eyes on the sides of his head like the hipparion, and he certainly didn't have the speed of one if he needed to escape.
He suddenly paused at the tell-tale sign of crunching, dry grass. It stopped as soon as he had straightened his spine to get a better view over the tall, golden grass. He looked to the sides, and behind. It was quiet except for the sounds of crickets coming out to greet the approaching night. Hewey cooed softly before he turned back to his path, only to be greeted by a homotherium. He started to cry out to alert his troop, but was cut short as the large cat pounced and sank his fangs deep into the ape's throat, killing him instantly.
The feline roared triumphantly, Hewey's blood spraying across the ground in the process. As he settled himself next to the limp body to start his first meal of the night, his ears started to flick back and forth frantically, picking up the sounds of tormented howls from within the jungle. The cat's pride had found the rest of Hewey's family.
North America: Pleistocene
A neanderthal shuddered as the heavy winds blew down from the north; a foreboding sign that snow would soon be upon him and his tribe-mate. This stepping-stone to mankind was known as Rock to his tribe-mate.
Rock huddled closer to his friend, Storm sitting beside him. The fire that rested in the circle of their small camp barely hung strong due to the winds brutally beating down on it.
Storm grunted softly as he moved in closer to Rock and grasped his trembling hands with his own. The smaller caveman's hands were ice-cold to the touch and Storm brought them up to his lips in an attempt to warm them up. He smiled weakly against the frigid fingers. Deep in his aching heart, he knew this would be their last night together. He could hear the swift footsteps of the saber-cats circling them in the night. He could feel the snow drawing ever closer to their camp. Either way, they would not last the night. With a withering breath, he stood on his feet and brought Rock up with him. They stood holding each other as close as they could.
The smilodons moved in closer, skulking behind the hide hut and watching with keen, predatory eyes as the fire dwindled out slowly. The first saber-cat paused as the first snowflake of winter landed quietly upon his nose, and he licked it away impatiently. Soon after, the snow started falling thickly against their backs, and the fire sputtered out with a hiss.
The second saber moved ahead into the middle of the camp, as if not caring that the the cavemen would see him. He stood alert, ears forward, and short tail raised just above his spine. The men did not move.
It was at that moment the first saber realized the upright creatures had died standing in place. Their meal had come easy this night, but it would be different the next day. These were the last ape-like creatures on earth. No one, not even the neanderthals in their last moments of comradely, knew they were the last of their kind.
This would be the rise of cats. They would be the ones to step into the future now, taking the place of all mankind.
Roman Empire: 28 BC
A graying healer-felidae by the name of Magnus stumbled out weakly with his crippled paw from a den owned by a small family of two; a teenage cub by the name of Cyrus, and his mother,Tullia. However, the youth was about to find out today if his mother was still alive.
Two years ago, a virus had started to ravage all of Rome. It only effected the female felidae. No one was certain if any other female in the world suffered the same fate. The virus struck in stages, and depending on how weak the immune system was, how fast it moved. It started with a high fever, followed by aching muscles and bones, and then blood trickled like tears from their ears. His mother had all these symptoms.
Tullia had gone weeks with the aches. She would cry out in the middle of the night as the pain wracked her body. It took everything in Cyrus to try and comfort her. Magnus had done what he could as well with his healing herbs, but the disease only progressed.
Magnus and Cyrus watched and waited with baited breathes as she slowly wasted away. Today her ears had bled and after a sudden, violent compulsion she stilled. Cyrus had quickly retrieved the healer whom was looking for buttercups in the nearby fields. With his crippled paw, he raced pass Cyrus back to the den to find the cub's mother motionless. He didn't have to smell the death in the air to know she was already dead. He could see the dreary ember of her eyes, and the lack of movement from her chest With a heavy heart, he returned to Cyrus just outside the den. “She's...gone.”
The young cub bowed his head remorsefully. “I..I never got to say...goodbye.”
“Cyrus,” Magnus started comfortingly. “She knew you were there for her. She loved you so much. She is in felis' paws now.” He paled suddenly at a thought that had been bothering him since the virus had infected Tullia. It wasn't as important as the cub's grief, but it was still blatantly nagging at him in the forefront of his mind. Tullia had been the last female in Rome...all of Italy, and possibly the last female in the whole world. The future was bleak for everyone now.
“I don't think you understand the turning point in history, my dear Magnus.” A tone that hummed so loudly as if two bodies occupied one had stated.
Both felidae looked up in alarm. Their eyes squinted at the brilliantly lit being standing before them. It was difficult to tell what color or type of creature it was.
“Who are you?” Magnus asked, almost breathless. He felt as if he was in the presence of someone godly. By instinct he crumbled to his stomach, the cub following in his example.
Taking the two felidaes' submission as bows, he approached them in a stride that only a noble-cat could accomplish. “Stand tall, and stand proud.” He spoke gently, urging the mortal cats to no longer be afraid of him. “I come with good news for your race.”
“Good news?” Magnus began. “A-Are you Sun, our felis?”
The being's head tilted in Magnus' direction.
Magnus flinched, he immediately regretted his decision in gaining the other's attention. He wasn't sure if the felis was offended by his interruption or just curious. “Forgive my interruption, my lord.”
Suddenly, the beam of light around the felis dimmed enough for the two felidae to see his true color. He was as white as the snow that fell in the winter. His blue eyes were as clear as the skies during a crisp autumn day. On his left shoulder was the mark of a star. The inside swirled like stars in their night skies. Above all, he was larger than either of them put together.
Both Magnus and Cyrus were stunned at the felis' beauty. And then they heard his voice again, but as sweet and smooth as honey cake. “You are correct, dear healer. The females may have left you, but the new generation will continue your legacy.” His eyes landed on the young cub, and he leaned forward until his pink nose touched the youth's brow. “You, Cyrus will carry our future within you, and the next generation will do the same. You will give birth to my son and his name shall be Joe Star.”
Cyrus stepped away from the large figure, his head still bowed respectfully. “Forgive me my lord Sun, but why have the females left us?”
“Jealousy,” Sun responded without hesitation. “The felis, Moon sent a plague to rid your world of females, because he is unable to have any cubs of his own. Moon also has come to the conclusion, if he is unable to bear cubs, then I, Sun shall not have any.” Sun looked up to the sky solemnly. “My beloved Moon,” he whispered. “If only I could have reassured him that you are his cubs as well.”
Cyrus and Magnus fidgeted uncomfortably.
The younger felidae straightened and gazed at his lord adoringly. “I shall carry out your will, my lord Sun, for I am only a humble servant,” Cyrus stated proudly.
Sun shook his head with a smile as warm as the spring itself. “You are my cub, my brethren, and my mate now. You are more than a servant. You are my beloved souls. All of my cubs are.” He then peered at Magnus. “Take care of Cyrus, will you?”
“I have taken care of him and his kin for generations, my lord. And I will continue to do so for many more years.” Magnus stood strong and proud before his felis, his head held high in the process. He was startled when Sun stepped forward and touched a white paw to his own crippled one. It suddenly felt stout and he placed it firmly down against the ground with a heavy sign of relief. “Thank you, my lord!”
“My pleasure, dear Magnus. In the near future, in compensation for taking care of Cyrus and his son, there will be bountiful rewards for you.” The felis' fur lit up once again, blinding the felidae before him, and then lifted up into the air to disappear into the sky above.
A gentle voice washed over them as Cyrus and Magnus looked on in marvel. “The next generation will no longer be titled as felidae. They will now be known as Hybrids.”
England: 1886
“Dio,” Jonathan called out enthusiastically, galloping to the golden feline that was strutting into the den. “I have wonderful news, brother. Father has given me permission to ask you for your heart in marriage.”
Dio sneered at the other's enthusiasm at such news. “Step-brother,” he emphasized strongly with a hiss. “I don't want to be your mate. You're still a cub.”
“But...” Jonathan frowned and sat on his haunches dejectedly. “I want us to be together. We'd make a beautiful family. I want our cubs to have your golden fur.” He brushed his muzzle against Dio's chin, trying to lighten the mood between them. “I love you, Dio.” It came out as a pleading whisper. “Please become my mate.” His tongue gently swiped across the other's soft cheek, a purr erupting from Dio's throat.
“Damn you, Jonathan.” The blond Hybrid growled weakly as he stretched out before Jonathan, and allowed the black feline to groom him, and soothe his sour behavior.
Jonathan's father sauntered into the light from the back of the den and approached his sons with a loving smile. “Have you proposed to Dio yet, Jonathan?”
“Not properly,” Dio sulked. “He came in here like an excited kit catching his first mouse.”
If Jonathan wasn't covered in dark fur, he was certain everyone would have seen the brilliant blush lighting up his cheeks. “I...I was going to get to it,” he stated, trying to make his rude behavior less obvious.
George frowned as his son. “Gentlemen do not make excuses. Stand proudly and ask for Dio's heart properly.”
“Yes, father.” Jonathan tried to not sound like he was sulking as he stood and made his way around to stand before Dio.
Taking the initiative, Dio stood and smiled smugly at his step-brother. Maybe he should lead Jonathan on, he thought to himself. This would be too fun... Or so he imagined until his brother pressed their brows together and sighed softly. Dio faltered at the idea of ruining Jonathan's proposal. What was the dolt doing?
“I love you with all my heart, Dio,” Jonathan started. “Six years ago, I was so happy when I heard I would be gaining a brother. However, it may not have started out that way, because you gave me hell every dary, but we grew closer in time. I'm so happy now that you're here with me, Dio. Will you be my mate, now and forever?”
Dio couldn't catch his breath. He slumped to his haunches and cried. His tears wetting his golden fur as he nuzzled into his step-brother's face, purring loudly. “Yes, Jonathan Joestar. I will be your mate. I will be honored to have cubs with you.”
“Very good my boys. You both have made me extremely proud.” George patted his son on the back and then Dio's before wiping the blond's tears away with a swift swipe of his tongue. “You've grown into fine, young Hybrids. Our ancestors have witnessed a blessing, and will be singing of your bond for years to come.” He paused in his speech to admire the two happily engaged felines. “Speaking of our ancestors. Jonathan. They have finally chosen you to step up into felis-hood.”
Jonathan was grinning ear to ear. “This is great news, father.” He turned to Dio and nuzzled him affectionately. “Our future is looking brighter everyday, Dio.”
The blond Hybrid looked skeptical as he accepted his betrothed's affections. Jonathan seemed correct. It sounded as if everything would be going their way, but what of their cubs? Would they be accepted into the circle as felis as well?
= = =
A year later, Jonathan and Dio are mates. Dio is due to have their first cub in four months. He won't be showing for another month though, but their Hybrid healer knows the signs of pregnancy. One, being extremely affectionate, especially when it is out of character for a constantly moody Dio.
Jonathan hadn't ascended to felis-hood yet. He wanted Dio to have their first cub before that happened.
They were both lounging by a pond some ways away from their den. Jonathan was giving long, tender strokes of his tongue to Dio's stomach, since the blond pleaded so cutely for a belly-rub.
Dio's purrs were loud and continuous. And he hated to say it, but he was getting aroused by his mate's attentions. “It feels sooooo gooood, Jonathan.”
Jonathan paused when he noticed Dio's erection peaking out from its sheath. He snorted in amusement as he made his way down the flawless, golden stomach and wrapped his tongue around the now fully standing prick. He heard a sharp gasp and then a moan followed shortly after. He thanked their felis that their cocks didn't have barbs like their ancestors' did. It was smooth, and shaped like a mushroom on the verge of blooming. He could taste the precum spilling onto his tongue and took the whole rod into his mouth. Jonathan sucked on the phallus eagerly, and enjoyed the cries of ecstasy erupting from Dio's maul.
“Y-Yes, Jonathan,” Dio groaned. “The sun's warmth is nothing compared to your tongue!” His back arched off the ground as he came hard into his mate's mouth, and heard the tell-tale gulp of the other swallowing his seed.
Jonathan licked his muzzle clean before turning Dio onto his stomach and mounting him. “It's my turn,” he whispered huskily.
The blond feline lifted his long, elegant tale eagerly, presenting his puckered entrance. The bud twitched and dripped with slick fluids, all ready for the taking. He mewled when he felt the head of Jonathan's prick penetrate him, and steadily implanted itself fully into his body. Jonathan was deliciously big, and it felt amazing rubbing against every part of his passage.
Jonathan's fangs grazed the back of Dio's neck as he started thrusting his haunches.
The golden feline's muscles clamped tightly around his mate's cock, pulling him in hungrily.
It wasn't long before he yowled his second release across the grass, his mate following shortly after. Their coupling only lasted for a moment, but it always felt amazing during and afterwards.
Jonathan moaned softly against the golden fur before burying his muzzle in it. “Dio,” he huffted softly before carefully pulling out and stretching along his mate's side. “I love you.”
Dio snorted his response before deciding to lean toward his mate and licked his ear. “My insatiable prince charming,” he teased.
The dark Hybrid purred contentedly, and nuzzled closer to Dio. “Only with you, my love.”
= = =
Two years go by, and that happiness was short lived. Jonathan had become a felis after their son, George's birth. Dio had become jealous of his mate's felis-power. Despite how Jonathan still loved his mate, there were constant brawls between the two Hybrids that would cross the ages.
In time, Moon had become fed up with the descendants of Sun constantly warring against each other, and decided to aid Dio. He gave the golden cat a power, not unlike a felis, but less so. Either way, it gave Dio the opportunity to take his mate's head with a single blow of his paw, brutally decapitating Jonathan. In turn, Moon betrayed Dio and returned the favor done to Jonathan ten-fold. He ripped Dio's head from his neck and incinerated the body in sunlight before he disappeared back into the skies.
Dio howled and cursed at Moon every year, on the day he was beheaded. Hybrids could hear his calls into the night and would try to block it out by singing songs of Jonathan's fall and Moon's betrayal. It was soon recognized as a holiday called Moon's Bloodshed, every tenth of October.
Eventually, Dio's howls became nothing but a myth. Young Hybrids continued to celebrate the holiday by decorating with spooky trinkets of Moon, and to share stories, songs, and sweet cakes with one another,
During the many years as a lonely, cursed head, Dio's son, George had grown and had a family of his own. George was never offered the title as a felis though. He grew up as a normal Hybrid, but died after his son, Joseph had been born. George had fallen into a den of wolves during a hunt, and was sadly unable to escape. A grave had been erected next to Sun's temple, in hopes his soul would find his felis ancestors.
This simple act garnered the attention of Sun, and he descended to Earth to find Dio. When said head was found deep within a thick forest, Dio cursed at the felis' paws, demanding him to turn away and depart back to the skies.
Sun, of course, refused and gave the temperamental blond an alternative. He couldn't break the curse that Moon had placed on him, but he could connect his head to the body that he had decapitated Jonathan's head from, or he could remain where he was until Moon decided he was bored with him.
The blond feline begrudgingly accepted Sun's favor and was given his mate's body. He was free to walk the Earth again, but at a deadly cost. He couldn't walk in sunlight any longer, or he would go up in flames like his old body. He was doomed to walk the night til the end of time.
Sun left Dio in the shade of the forest, never to sojourn with him again.
It was then that Dio would plot his revenge on Moon. He would see to it that the moon would never shine its brightest (if at all) ever again.
To Be Continued...