#Like cat ears & tail & such for example | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1343401 · 5 months ago

Text

captive desires - chapter one

pairing: hybrid bts x reader

status: ongoing

word count: 11.6 k

warnings: depictions of violence, death, family trauma, mentions of blood, yandere-ish, hybrids

prev | next | m.list

the café smelled of roasted barley tea and fresh pastries, the warm scent lingering in the air even as the evening rush had long passed. outside, the rain drizzled softly against the pavement, dampening the neon glow of signs stacked high along the streets of seonggyeong. inside, haneul no ame had settled into a quiet hum of conversation, the kind that came when exhaustion set in but no one was quite ready to go home yet.

myah wiped down the counter with slow, absent minded strokes, eyes flickering toward the last few customers scattered throughout the space.

a businessman sat hunched over his laptop near the corner, an untouched cup of coffee beside him. he hadn’t looked up once since he came in, his fingers moving tirelessly across the keyboard, dark circles carved beneath his eyes.

by the window, an elderly woman cradled a ceramic cup between her hands, her gaze fixed on the street outside. her ears twitched ever so slightly, a sign of her hybrid nature, soft gray fur peeking out from beneath the folds of her knit hat. every so often, her tail, long and wispy like a squirrel’s, curled and uncurled beside her chair.

a young couple occupied the booth closest to the entrance. the man was human, his suit slightly wrinkled, his tie loosened at the collar. his date, however, was not.

the woman sitting across from him had fox-like ears, their tips dyed a deep red, the same shade as the streaks in her hair. her tail, sleek and well-groomed, curled around her side, draping over her lap. they were talking quietly, the human man leaning in, whispering something that made her laugh, sharp teeth flashing.

even now, myah could see the way people watched them.

it was subtle, just a quick glance, a barely-there shift in posture, as if to pretend they weren’t staring at all. but it was enough.

some habits were impossible to shake.

myah had grown up with hybrids. they were a normal part of life, integrated into society, working jobs, going to school, eating at the same restaurants as everyone else. and yet, things still weren’t quite equal.

some species of hybrids had more privileges than others. fox and domestic cat hybrids, for example, were considered “acceptable.” they had a certain charm, an elegance that made them easy to market, easy to tolerate. they could get jobs, live normal lives so long as they didn’t make themselves too noticeable.

others weren’t so lucky.

her gaze flickered to the table near the entrance, where a wolf hybrid sat alone.

he was young, probably around her age, maybe a little older, but he carried himself with a quiet wariness that made him seem far older. his dark hair was damp from the rain, his clothes plain but clean. his ears, tufted and pointed, were pressed flat against his head, as if to make himself smaller.

he had been nursing the same cup of tea for over an hour now, barely taking a sip.

a group of human customers had been sitting at a nearby table earlier. they’d left about fifteen minutes ago, but myah still remembered the way they had whispered amongst themselves, shooting glances at the wolf hybrid when they thought he wasn’t looking.

“can’t believe they just let them in anywhere now,” one of them had muttered.

“it’s disgusting,” another had agreed. “they belong in the wild, not in cafés like this.”

the hybrid had said nothing. hadn’t even looked in their direction. just kept his head down, staring into his tea as if he couldn’t hear a word of it.

but myah knew he could.

everyone had heard them.

myah had wanted to say something, but what good would it have done? the whispers would never stop. not really. they would have just found another place to talk, another way to make sure hybrids knew exactly where they stood.

so she had done the only thing she could.

she had walked over to their table with a practiced smile, cleared their plates a little too fast, and “accidentally” spilled the remains of someone’s iced coffee onto their coats.

“oops,” she had said, not even pretending to be sorry.

the look on their faces had been satisfying, at least.

now, the café was quiet again, save for the sound of rain against the windows and the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen.

the wolf hybrid finally moved, setting his cup down gently before pushing himself to his feet.

he hesitated, then walked up to the counter, stopping a careful distance away from myah. his movements were slow, deliberate, as if to ensure he wasn’t perceived as a threat.

“excuse me,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “may i have the bill?”

myah nodded, keying in the total before handing him the receipt.

“you don’t have to rush,” she said, offering a small smile. “it’s still raining pretty hard out there.”

he glanced toward the window, watching the rain streak against the glass.

“…thank you,” he murmured, taking the receipt.

he slid a few bills across the counter.

too much.

myah frowned, pushing some of the change back toward him. “this is more than—”

“keep it,” he interrupted, his expression unreadable.

she hesitated, but nodded.

as he turned to leave, the door swung open, and a pair of men stepped inside.

they were human, tall and broad-shouldered, their suits slightly damp from the rain. their presence shifted the atmosphere immediately, the warmth of the café turning cold, heavy.

one of them spotted the wolf hybrid instantly.

“well, well,” he drawled, stepping forward. “fancy seeing you here.”

the hybrid went rigid.

the other man smirked, nudging his companion. “didn’t think mutts like you could afford places like this.”

myah’s grip tightened around the rag in her hand.

the hybrid didn’t respond. just lowered his gaze, shoulders tense.

“we were just leaving,” he said flatly.

one of the men stepped closer, blocking his path.

“no need to rush,” he said, voice mocking. “we just wanna talk.”

myah didn’t think.

she moved around the counter before she could stop herself.

“is there a problem here?” she asked, her voice sharp.

the two men turned to her, eyebrows raised.

“no problem at all,” one of them said, flashing a too-smooth smile. “we were just catching up with an old friend.”

myah crossed her arms. “he doesn’t seem too interested in talking.”

there was a beat of silence.

then, the first man chuckled, shaking his head.

“relax,” he said. “we’re just leaving.”

he clapped the hybrid on the shoulder, hard enough to make him flinch, then turned and walked out the door.

his companion lingered for a moment longer, eyes flicking toward myah.

then, with a quiet scoff, he followed.

the bell chimed softly as the door swung shut behind them.

the café felt still again.

myah exhaled slowly, turning back to the hybrid.

“you okay?” she asked.

he didn’t answer right away. then, slowly, he nodded.

“…thank you,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

he left without another word.

myah watched as he disappeared into the rain, his figure swallowed by the mist and city lights.

her hands were still trembling.

the rain hadn’t let up since the sun set, steady droplets tapping against the café’s large front windows, streaking down the glass in uneven rivulets. outside, the streetlights cast a soft, golden glow onto the wet pavement, reflecting neon signs from the surrounding shops. the occasional car passed, tires splashing through puddles, sending mist curling up into the night air.

inside, haneul no ame was winding down, the once-bustling café now quiet, save for the distant hum of the espresso machine and the soft clatter of dishes as myah stacked them behind the counter. the air smelled of coffee and sweet red bean, lingering even as the last of the customers trickled out into the damp night.

she pulled off her apron with a sigh, shaking out her stiff shoulders before reaching for the closed sign. the bell above the door jingled softly as she flipped it, the sign swaying slightly in the dim light.

behind her, kai was already clearing tables, long sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he wiped down the wood with smooth, practiced motions. his tail flicked once behind him before curling around his waist, his fox-like ears twitching slightly at the sound of a car horn outside.

“finally,” myah muttered, running a hand through her hair. “felt like today was never gonna end.”

kai let out a low chuckle, tossing a damp rag over his shoulder. “you say that every shift.”

“yeah, and i mean it every shift.”

he snorted but didn’t argue, instead moving toward a nearby table where an empty cup sat abandoned, a half-melted ice cube floating in the dregs of a forgotten drink. he picked it up, inspecting the lipstick stain on the rim before shaking his head.

“you ever notice how people look at me like i might bite?”

myah glanced up from where she was wiping down the counter, brow raised. “do you bite?”

kai grinned, all sharp teeth and mischief. “only if they deserve it.”

she rolled her eyes. “you’re so dramatic.”

“i’m serious,” he said, tossing the rag onto the table with a little too much force. “it’s like they don’t even try to hide it. the staring. the way they tense up when i walk by.”

myah thought back to earlier in the evening, the way a woman had hesitated before handing kai her order, fingers twitching as if deciding whether or not to let her hand brush his when he reached for the cup.

“i don’t know,” she said carefully. “i don’t think they mean anything by it.”

kai let out a short, humorless laugh. “you would think that.”

her gaze snapped to him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he didn’t look at her, just kept stacking chairs, movements deliberate, controlled. “you don’t get it,” he said simply. “you’ve never had someone cross the street just to avoid you.”

myah opened her mouth, then closed it.

she had nothing to say to that.

because he was right.

instead, she grabbed the broom from the back corner and started sweeping near the register, letting the rhythmic swish of the bristles fill the silence.

kai moved behind the counter, reaching for a cloth to wipe down the espresso machine. “that fox hybrid from earlier,” he said, almost casually. “the one with the human guy.”

myah frowned, thinking back to the couple that had sat near the entrance. “what about them?”

kai leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “you think it’ll last?”

she hesitated. “i mean… they looked happy.”

kai scoffed. “for now.”

myah frowned. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugged. “humans like that always leave.”

his voice was quiet, but there was a weight behind it, something bitter that made myah shift uncomfortably.

“you say that like you’ve seen it happen,” she said after a moment.

kai’s ears twitched. “i have.”

his tone left no room for argument.

silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. outside, the rain continued to fall, soft and endless.

myah turned back to sweeping, but she felt the shift in the air, the way something unspoken had settled between them.

it wasn’t like she could blame kai for being bitter. hybrids weren’t exactly treated with kindness. sure, they could get jobs, go to school, exist in public spaces, but that didn’t mean they were wanted there.

a movement outside caught her eye.

a man walked past the window, coat pulled tight around himself to shield against the cold. as he passed, his gaze flickered toward the café, toward kai, who was still leaning against the counter.

his expression barely changed, just the slightest wrinkle of his nose, the briefest flicker of disdain before he turned away.

kai’s tail flicked sharply.

“prick,” he muttered under his breath.

myah heard him but said nothing.

what was there to say?

instead, she set the broom aside and grabbed a rag, moving to wipe down the espresso machine.

“you taking the train home?” kai asked, leaning against the counter as he dried the last of the mugs. his ears twitched slightly, always alert, even when he tried to play it off like he wasn’t.

myah grabbed her bag from the back, adjusting the strap over her shoulder. “yeah, as long as it’s still running on time. the rain’s been messing with the schedule lately.”

kai scoffed. “figures. humans build a whole train system, but a little water and suddenly it’s useless.”

she rolled her eyes, shoving his arm playfully as she moved past him. “not all of us have built-in weather tracking, you know.”

his tail flicked, a half-smirk playing on his lips, but he didn’t argue. instead, his expression shifted, something more serious settling into the lines of his face.

“i don’t like you walking alone this late,” he said, voice quieter now. “especially not with how things have been lately.”

she frowned, tugging her coat tighter around her body. “kai, i walk home at this time almost every night.”

he clicked his tongue, tossing the rag onto the counter. “doesn’t mean it’s safe. you know hybrids have been disappearing, right?”

she blinked. “what?”

his jaw tightened. “it’s been happening for a while now. some just vanish. no reports, no investigations. no one cares enough to look.”

her stomach twisted, but she tried to keep her voice light. “kai, i’m not a hybrid.”

“doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “you’re still out here alone.”

something about the way he said it made her pause. there was something deeper in his voice. something unsettled.

“you’re really worried about me?” she asked, tilting her head.

he scoffed. “obviously. you’re helpless.”

she laughed, shoving him again, but he caught her wrist this time, his grip firm but not rough.

“seriously, myah,” he murmured. “just be careful.”

there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place.

after a beat, he let go, stepping back.

she exhaled, offering him a small smile. “i’ll be fine. i’ll text you when i get home, okay?”

he didn’t look satisfied, but he nodded. “yeah. you better.”

she nudged the door open, the bell chiming softly as the cool night air wrapped around her.

“see you tomorrow, kai.”

he gave her a lazy wave, but his ears were still twitching, still listening.

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “don’t get eaten.”

she snorted, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

the rain had slowed to a mist, clinging to her skin in a way that made her shiver. the streets were quieter now, though the distant buzz of traffic hummed in the background.

she passed a row of shuttered shops, their signs dimmed for the night, before nearing the upscale part of town where restaurants and bars were still alive with soft jazz music and murmured conversation.

she was mid-step when she heard it.

thud.

a body hitting pavement.

her head snapped to the side just in time to see a figure stumble forward, nearly falling face-first into the street.

a hybrid.

his hair was dark and unkempt, sticking to his forehead from the damp air. fluffy golden ears flickered against his head, low and tense. his shirt was torn, one of the sleeves barely hanging on, and there was a fresh bruise blooming along his jaw.

the bouncer, built like a damn wall, stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking down at him like something scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

“no mutts allowed,” the man sneered.

myah froze.

the hybrid pushed himself up slowly, hands trembling slightly as he wiped at his mouth. for a second, it looked like he might say something, might fight back, but then his shoulders sagged. his tail flicked once, tense, before curling behind his legs.

he didn’t argue. didn’t growl.

he just looked tired.

a few people had stopped to watch, some lingering near the restaurant’s entrance, others glancing over from across the street. but no one did anything.

no one said a word.

myah’s heart pounded. she felt her fingers tighten around the strap of her bag.

say something.

but to who?

the bouncer, who clearly didn’t care? the hybrid, who clearly didn’t want to fight? the silent bystanders, who clearly weren’t going to help?

for the briefest moment, his gaze flicked up and met hers.

his eyes were dark. tired, resigned. but beneath it all, just a flicker of something else. something sharp.

anger.

not at her. not really.

at everything.

then, just as quickly, he looked away.

he dusted himself off, shaking out his limbs like he was used to this, like it had happened before and would happen again, and without another word, he turned and walked off down the street.

myah’s breath felt stuck in her throat.

above her, a digital billboard flickered to life, bathing the sidewalk in a pale blue glow.

STOP HYBRID ABUSE. CALL 1-800—

the text glitched, cutting in and out before the screen flickered and went dark.

the irony hit her like a fist to the gut.

she swallowed, her grip tightening on her bag as she forced her feet to move again.

why does no one care?

the night air felt colder now.

her thoughts buzzed as she walked, unsettled and restless, the image of the hybrid’s bruised face burned into the back of her mind.

why do i feel like i should care more than i do?

the night air clung to myah’s skin, a lingering chill settling in her bones as she walked the quiet streets toward home. the city was alive behind her. the hum of distant traffic, neon lights flickering in alleyways, laughter spilling from bars and restaurants, but here, in the quieter residential district, the world felt smaller.

comfortable.

safe.

she climbed the short steps to her apartment building, the warmth of home just beyond the door. her fingers were stiff from the cold as she fumbled with her keys, but the second she cracked the door open, a blur of movement slammed into her.

“myah!”

the impact nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

warm arms wrapped around her, a familiar scent of lavender and something soft filling her senses before she was all but engulfed.

“you’re late,” came the muffled complaint against her shoulder.

“i texted you,” myah wheezed, laughing despite herself.

“doesn’t count,” jisun grumbled, tightening her hold.

her roommate was always like this—clingy, affectionate, practically glued to myah whenever she was around. it was just who she was, but there was a certain desperation in the way she held on sometimes, like she was scared myah would disappear if she let go.

tonight was one of those nights.

“jesus, jisun, let her breathe,” a drier voice called from the living room.

chae-eun.

unbothered, jisun only nuzzled closer, her rabbit ears twitching slightly against myah’s cheek.

“you smell like the outside,” she muttered, nose scrunching.

myah snorted, finally managing to pry her way free enough to take off her coat. “i was outside.”

“i don’t like it.”

“not my fault.”

“mm.”

instead of letting go completely, jisun just shifted, looping an arm around myah’s waist as if to keep her tethered.

chae-eun finally emerged from the kitchen, cradling a mug of tea in her hands. unlike jisun, she wasn’t the type to launch into hugs the second someone walked through the door. her affection was quieter, offered through knowing glances, careful words, and the occasional cup of tea set in front of you without a word.

her dark hair was pulled into a lazy bun, eyes sharp as she studied myah.

“you’re late,” she echoed jisun’s earlier complaint, though with significantly less drama.

“long shift,” myah explained, leaning into jisun’s hold despite herself. “plus, the trains were delayed again.”

chae-eun hummed like she wasn’t quite convinced.

“hurry up and sit,” jisun insisted, already pulling myah toward the couch. “you need to warm up.”

“i can make my own tea, you know.”

“you can, but you won’t,” jisun shot back, pushing myah down onto the cushions. “so stay here. i’ll do it.”

myah didn’t fight it. she never really did. there was no winning against jisun when she got like this.

chae-eun exhaled, taking the seat across from her, studying her over the rim of her mug.

“…what happened?”

myah blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you look off.”

too observant for her own good, as always.

before myah could come up with a deflection, jisun returned, practically plopping herself down into myah’s lap as she pressed a warm mug into her hands.

“spill,” she demanded, fluffy rabbit tail flicking behind her.

myah sighed. “it’s nothing, really.”

chae-eun raised a brow. jisun poked her cheek.

“…i saw a hybrid get thrown out of a bar,” myah admitted after a beat.

silence.

chae-eun’s expression didn’t change, but myah saw the way her fingers subtly tightened around her mug.

jisun, however, visibly bristled, ears flattening against her head.

“thrown out?” she echoed. “like literally?”

myah nodded. “a bouncer tossed him onto the pavement. called him a mutt.”

jisun’s hands clenched at the hem of myah’s sleeve.

“i hate people,” she muttered.

chae-eun exhaled, rubbing at her temple. “i assume no one did anything?”

myah swallowed. “yeah.”

“and you?”

the question hung between them.

jisun shifted slightly next to her, her golden-brown eyes locking onto myah’s.

expecting something.

waiting.

“…i didn’t do anything either.”

the weight of her own words settled heavily in her chest.

jisun’s grip on her tightened.

“good,” chae-eun said, her voice quiet but firm.

myah blinked. “what?”

“you couldn’t have done anything,” she explained simply. “it wouldn’t have helped.”

jisun huffed, pressing closer to myah, like she could protect her from something that had already happened.

“doesn’t mean it’s okay,” she grumbled.

“it’s not,” chae-eun agreed. “but it’s not something she could have stopped.”

“she could have—”

“what? started an argument? gotten herself thrown out too?”

jisun made a frustrated noise, burying her face in myah’s shoulder.

myah sighed, resting her chin against the top of jisun’s head, rubbing slow, absentminded circles against her back.

the room settled into silence.

uncomfortable. heavy.

the only sounds were the soft ticking of the clock and the distant hum of the city outside.

then—

“…this is depressing,” jisun mumbled.

myah huffed a laugh. “yeah, well.”

jisun suddenly sat up, eyes bright. “let’s eat something.”

chae-eun snorted. “you just ate.”

“and?”

“you’re like a bottomless pit.”

“and you’re a hater.”

“i’m a realist.”

jisun waved her off, already scrolling through her phone. “whatever. i’m ordering something.”

myah shook her head. “what are you even craving?”

“ramen.”

“you always want ramen.”

“because it’s good.”

chae-eun sighed but pulled out her own phone. “i’ll order from that place near the station.”

jisun beamed, all previous frustration seemingly forgotten.

she turned to myah, eyes soft again, expression unreadable as she reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind myah’s ear.

“you’re warm now,” she murmured, almost to herself.

myah’s breath caught.

she swallowed. looked away.

“yeah,” she murmured back. “thanks.”

jisun just smiled, squeezing her hand before shifting again, pressing herself snugly against myah’s side.

and just like that, the world outside didn’t feel so big.

not the city.

not the problems.

not the weight in her chest.

just this.

her home.

her people.

and tonight, that was enough.

steam curled from the ramen cups, carrying the rich, savory scent of broth and spices through the apartment. the three of them sat cross-legged on the floor, the coffee table cluttered with their makeshift dinner, plastic bowls, chopsticks, side dishes chae-eun had pulled from the fridge.

jisun had already dug in, slurping up noodles with an unapologetic enthusiasm that made myah laugh.

“slow down,” chae-eun deadpanned, stirring her broth. “no one’s gonna steal it from you.”

“you don’t know that,” jisun shot back, pointing her chopsticks at her like a weapon. “you could betray me at any moment.”

chae-eun rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her tea. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and you’re jealous of my food.”

“i ordered it.”

“exactly.”

myah snorted, picking at her own noodles, content to just listen. moments like this. the easy back and forth, the warmth of companionship, they were her favorite.

“okay,” jisun said through a mouthful of noodles, “what are we watching?”

chae-eun hummed, reaching for the remote. “i vote action.”

jisun groaned. “we always watch action.”

“because action is good.”

“because you have a crush on every female lead with a sword.”

“and?”

jisun turned to myah, pouting. “tell her we should watch a romance.”

“not this again,” myah muttered, hiding a smile.

this was routine. every time they had a movie night, it turned into a battle—jisun always pushing for a romcom, chae-eun gunning for something dark and brooding, and myah left somewhere in the middle, playing mediator.

tonight was no different.

“chae-eun,” myah started patiently, “we watched something with explosions last time.”

“and it was great.”

“jisun,” myah continued, “the last time we let you pick, you made us watch that three hour slow burn that barely had a plot.”

jisun gasped, offended. “it was cinema.”

“it was painful.”

jisun crossed her arms. “fine. compromise.”

“compromise?”

she nodded firmly. “a romcom with action.”

chae-eun gave her a flat look. “you mean, like, a spy movie with romance?”

“exactly.”

chae-eun exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “…fine.”

jisun cheered.

myah just shook her head, amused as she leaned back against the couch, ramen bowl balanced in her lap.

they settled in, scrolling through options until jisun pointed at a title that had both high-speed chases and lingering romantic stares.

“that one.”

“looks tolerable,” chae-eun admitted.

“it looks cute,” myah agreed, reaching for the remote.

but just as she was about to hit play, her phone buzzed.

the sound cut through the easy atmosphere, making her pause.

she almost ignored it.

almost.

but something about it, the way it rang just a little too insistently, the way a small pit formed in her stomach before she even checked the screen, made her hesitate.

when she finally glanced down, her chest tightened.

kai.

he rarely called. texts? sure. but a call, especially this late?

a bad feeling settled in her gut.

“who is it?” jisun asked, peering over her shoulder.

“kai.”

chae-eun and jisun exchanged a look.

“answer it,” chae-eun said simply.

myah did.

the second she put the phone to her ear, she could hear it. kai’s breathing, rough and uneven, the distant sounds of something loud in the background.

“kai?”

a pause.

then—

“myah.”

his voice was low. tense.

off.

immediately, she sat up, heart pounding. “what’s wrong?”

jisun frowned at her tone, ears twitching.

kai exhaled sharply, like he was deciding how much to say.

then, in a voice quieter than she’d ever heard from him—

“…where are you right now?”

her blood ran cold.

kai’s voice was quiet, but there was an urgency beneath it, something edged in warning.

myah sat up straighter, gripping the phone tighter. “i’m at home, what’s going on?”

jisun and chae-eun immediately noticed the shift in her tone. jisun leaned in, placing a hand on myah’s knee, her grip firm. chae-eun muted the tv, brows furrowing.

kai didn’t respond right away.

instead, there was the sound of him exhaling sharply, the distant murmur of voices in the background, and then

“you didn’t take the train home, right?”

her stomach dropped.

“no,” she said slowly. “i walked.”

a long pause.

“good.”

jisun’s ears twitched. chae-eun stiffened beside her.

something wasn’t right.

“kai,” myah tried again, voice lower. “what happened?”

kai inhaled, then let it out in a controlled breath.

“there was...” he stopped, changed his mind. “...some kind of fight near the station. a bad one. hybrids got involved.”

jisun’s grip on myah’s knee tightened.

chae-eun muttered a quiet curse.

hybrids got involved.

that never ended well.

“is everyone okay?” myah asked.

kai hesitated. “depends who you ask.”

myah’s throat went dry.

“kai—”

“look, i just—” he cut himself off, exhaling roughly. “just be careful, okay? don’t go out tonight. don’t answer the door if you’re not expecting someone. and if anything feels off call me. immediately.”

his voice was sharp, almost commanding, but beneath it was something else. something that sounded a little too close to fear.

jisun’s tail flicked. “what aren’t you telling us?”

kai must’ve heard her, because he sighed, frustrated.

“just promise me, okay?”

myah hesitated.

jisun and chae-eun were watching her, their expressions unreadable, but their tension said enough.

“…okay,” she said finally. “i promise.”

kai was silent for a moment.

then, quietly

“good.”

the line clicked dead.

silence settled over the apartment, thick and heavy.

jisun was the first to move, standing up and pacing. her ears were flat, tail flicking sharply. “i don’t like this.”

“me neither,” chae-eun muttered.

myah swallowed, locking her phone and setting it on the table. “you don’t think,” she stopped, rephrased. “you don’t think it was just a random fight?”

chae-eun exhaled, running a hand through her hair.

“it’s never just random, myah.”

jisun folded her arms, voice quieter. “you should stay in my room tonight.”

myah blinked. “what?”

jisun turned to face her fully, expression serious. “just in case. you sleep too deep. if something happens, you won’t hear it.”

myah almost argued, but then she saw the way jisun’s hands clenched at her sides, the way her shoulders were tense, and she realized this wasn’t just overprotectiveness.

jisun was worried.

they both were.

and if they were worried shouldn’t she be?

she exhaled, trying to ignore the way her chest felt tight.

“okay.”

jisun relaxed, just a fraction.

chae-eun leaned back, rubbing her temples.

“we should watch the news,” she murmured. “see if anything’s being reported.”

jisun groaned. “i hate the news.”

“yeah, well. too bad.”

chae-eun reached for the remote.

myah leaned back into the couch, but suddenly, the room didn’t feel quite as warm as before.

she tried not to think about why.

chae-eun flipped through the channels, the room bathed in the flickering glow of the tv screen. myah curled her knees up to her chest, eyes scanning the headlines flashing across the bottom of the news ticker.

“altercation at sinchon station leaves three injured, two in critical condition.”

the camera cut to a familiar location, train station signs illuminated by harsh, artificial light. police officers milled about, their expressions unreadable. a few reporters stood off to the side, murmuring to the camera, but it was the footage that came next that made myah’s stomach churn.

grainy security footage played on-screen.

at first, it was just a blur of movement, indistinct figures tangled together in a flurry of limbs, but then a hybrid came into view.

wolf ears, visible despite the hood he wore.

his eyes burned with something wild, desperate.

he lunged at someone, a human, judging by the lack of visible features, but before he could land the hit, another person tackled him from behind. the footage was cut off there, replaced by the reporter’s composed, neutral expression.

“the altercation began late this evening when a dispute between patrons at a nearby establishment escalated into violence. witnesses claim that one of the hybrids involved ‘snapped’ without provocation, leading to the attack.”

myah clenched her jaw.

snapped.

they always said that.

it didn’t matter if the hybrid had been defending themselves or retaliating after being provoked, it was always their fault.

jisun made a noise low in her throat, tail flicking sharply against the couch cushions. “they’re gonna eat this up.”

chae-eun sighed. “yeah.”

a familiar sense of frustration, laced with something heavier, settled between them.

it was always the same.

the news told the same story, every time.

and no one ever questioned it.

myah tore her gaze from the screen, swallowing the unease rising in her throat.

“it’s late,” she murmured. “we should sleep.”

chae-eun hesitated, then nodded.

jisun stood first, stretching before reaching a hand out toward myah. “c’mon.”

myah almost rolled her eyes, but there was a comfort in the way jisun tugged her forward, leading her toward the bedroom.

chae-eun lingered in the living room, still watching the tv screen.

before myah disappeared down the hall, she caught one last glimpse of the footage, still replaying in the background.

the hybrid’s eyes, wide, tired, resigned, before he was dragged out of frame.

she didn’t sleep well that night.

rain drizzled against the windows of the café, tiny droplets gathering in uneven lines before sliding down the glass. the sky had been gray all morning, an unrelenting layer of thick clouds hanging low over the city. it wasn’t the type of rain that came down in heavy sheets, no thunder, no dramatic downpour. just cold, steady drizzle, the kind that seeped into your clothes and left you feeling damp no matter how many layers you wore.

the streets outside were quieter than usual, muffled under the rain. people moved hurriedly, umbrellas held low over their heads, boots splashing through shallow puddles.

inside the café, the air was warmer, cozier, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and caramel syrup lingering despite the lack of customers. it had been a slow morning, and even now, past noon, there were only a handful of patrons scattered across the space.

the last few days had been uneasy. it had been three days since incident at the train station and yet there have only been more hybrid attacks.

or at least, that’s how the news framed it.

every station repeated the same headlines, the same grim footage playing on loop, blurry surveillance videos of fights breaking out, blood staining the pavement, sirens wailing in the distance.

but none of them ever showed what led up to it.

what provoked it.

myah didn’t know what to believe.

she kept her head down, focusing on the mundane task of wiping down the counter, her movements slow and methodical. the foam from the milk frother clung to the sink’s surface before swirling down the drain.

kai stood near the register, arms crossed, one ear flicking as he stared out the window. his tail, usually tucked neatly behind him, twitched in small, agitated movements.

doyoung, one of their other coworkers, was by the shelves, restocking bags of coffee beans. he was human, tall, lean, with a sharp, knowing gaze that missed nothing. he wasn’t the type to pry, but myah had noticed that he always seemed aware, like he knew when to step in and when to keep quiet.

kai let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms above his head before flopping against the counter. "slow day."

"lucky for you," doyoung muttered, stacking another bag on the shelf. "means less people side-eyeing you like you're about to lunge across the counter."

kai shot him a flat look. "oh, yeah? maybe i should start biting. make it worth their while."

"please don’t," myah said without looking up. "we’re already short-staffed."

kai smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

it hadn’t, not in days.

he might joke about it, but myah could tell the constant scrutiny was getting to him. every day, the stares, the tension in the air, the way people hesitated before handing him their money, like touching his hand might somehow taint them.

it was subtle, but it was there.

“you’ve got that look again,” kai said, eyes flicking up to myah. “the one that says you’re thinking too much.”

“i always think too much,” myah muttered, stacking plates from a recently cleared table.

doyoung snorted. “at least she thinks. you, on the other hand...”

kai clutched his chest in mock offense. “wow. slander in my own workplace.”

before myah could respond, her phone buzzed in her apron pocket. she wiped her hands on a towel before pulling it out, frowning at the unknown number.

“hello?” she answered.

“is this myah takahashi?” the voice on the other end was clipped, professional.

“uh... yes?”

“this is officer sakurai from the kyoto metropolitan police department. we’re calling regarding your grandparents, hiroshi and ayako takahashi.”

she straightened immediately, the air in her lungs thinning. “what about them?”

there was a pause. too long. too heavy.

“i’m sorry to inform you that they’ve passed away.”

her mind blanked. “what?”

kai and doyoung stopped their playful bickering, both watching her now. she felt like she was underwater, the words sluggish, too thick to process.

“they were found early this morning at their residence. we’re still investigating the circumstances, but initial reports suggest it was a hybrid attack.”

hybrid attack.

the words barely registered. her grip tightened on the phone. “that... that doesn’t make any sense.”

“we understand this is difficult. if you’re available, we’d like you to come to the station to discuss next steps regarding their estate and any arrangements you may need to make.”

her mouth was dry. “yeah,” she said numbly. “okay.”

the call ended. she stood there, phone in hand, staring at nothing.

“myah?” kai’s voice was softer now, careful.

she inhaled sharply, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “my grandparents are dead.”

silence.

doyoung's expression fell. “oh my god myah, i’m so sorry.”

“do you, do you need to sit down?” kai asked, stepping closer.

she shook her head, the movement jerky. “no, i just— i need to go.”

kai didn’t hesitate. “i’ll walk you home.”

“kai, you don’t have to”

“i’m walking you home.”

his tone left no room for argument.

doyoung squeezed myah’s arm gently. “text me if you need anything, okay?”

myah nodded, barely hearing her. she let kai guide her out of the café, his presence steady beside her. the streets blurred around them, the weight in her chest suffocating. hybrid attack. it didn’t make sense. her grandparents, strict, cold, but untouchable in her mind, couldn’t just be gone.

she barely registered kai’s arm around her shoulders, grounding her. “whatever you need,” he murmured, “i got you.”

she didn’t have the energy to reply. she just kept walking, the weight of the world pressing down on her chest.

the days following the news of her grandparents' deaths felt strangely muted, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton. the hybrid attacks on the news blurred together, the same violent images looping on screens in shop windows and subway stations. myah tried to ignore them, but each report left a gnawing unease in her stomach.

at work, the atmosphere was no different. kai hovered around her more than usual, his sharp eyes flicking to her every time she sighed or rubbed at her temples. she appreciated it, even if she didn't acknowledge it outright.

“you’re gonna make that rag disintegrate,” kai said, nodding at the counter she had been wiping for the last five minutes.

myah blinked down at the damp cloth in her hand, then huffed out a quiet laugh. “guess i zoned out.”

kai didn’t return the laugh. instead, he leaned against the counter beside her, arms crossed over his chest. “any more news?”

she shook her head. “nothing beyond what they told me. hybrid attack, no suspects, still investigating.” the words felt hollow now, rehearsed. she had repeated them so many times to her coworkers, to jisun and chae-eun, to herself in the mirror.

“and you believe that?”

“what do you mean?”

kai shrugged, but there was tension in his shoulders. “just seems, how do i put this, convenient.”

“convenient?” she echoed, frowning.

kai hesitated for a moment, then sighed, dropping his voice. “the way hybrids are treated in this country, the way people react to them. it doesn’t add up. if a hybrid was really responsible, don’t you think they’d already have someone to parade around as the culprit? something public? something to make a statement?”

she swallowed. she hadn’t thought about it like that. “maybe they just don’t know who did it yet.”

kai didn’t argue, but his silence was enough of a response.

the bell over the door jingled, breaking the moment. their coworker, yuna, poked her head out from the back, barely glancing up from her phone. “myah, phone for you. said it’s about your grandparents.”

she felt kai’s gaze on her as she set the rag down and hurried into the back, her heart hammering in her chest.

the call was short. official.

“ms. takahashi, as the sole heir, you’ve been named the beneficiary of your grandparents’ estate. the will reading will be held at the district courthouse in three days. we strongly encourage your attendance.”

she barely remembered responding, barely remembered setting the phone down and walking back out front.

kai straightened the moment he saw her face. “what is it?”

“the will.” her voice sounded distant. “they left everything to me.”

the courthouse is cold.

not physically, the air is actually a little too warm, like the heating is working overtime, but everything about it feels sterile. impersonal. the walls are a dull gray, the floors scuffed from years of foot traffic. fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead, casting a harsh glare on the polished wood of the long conference table where myah now sits.

she grips her hands together in her lap, trying to ignore the tight knot in her stomach. the lawyer, sungho, barely spares her a glance as he flips through the papers in front of him. his suit is crisp, his hair perfectly combed, his expression unreadable.

he finally stops, clears his throat, and begins.

“you are the sole heir to the takahashi estate.”

myah blinks.

she knew that already, but hearing it out loud like this makes it feel real in a way it hadn’t before. she waits for him to elaborate, but he only continues in that same monotone voice, listing off assets as if she were a stranger reviewing a contract instead of a grieving granddaughter.

“the property located at 218 fujimoto drive is now under your name, as well as all remaining financial holdings, stocks, and investments left behind by mr. and mrs. takahashi. ownership of their business, takahashi antiques, has also been transferred to you.”

her head snaps up.

“wait,” she says. “the business?”

nakamura doesn’t even look up. “yes.”

myah’s mouth goes dry. she hadn’t thought about the store in years. tucked away in an old part of the city, her grandparents had run it for as long as she could remember. filled with rare artifacts, books, and oddities from all over, it had always given her the feeling of stepping into another world. she remembers being a child, running her fingers over the spines of leather-bound tomes, tracing the delicate carvings on antique jewelry. she remembers the way her grandmother had spoken in hushed tones to certain customers, ones who always seemed to leave with something unseen.

her stomach churns.

“everything?” she asks slowly. “the house, the business, the land?”

nakamura’s pen scratches against the paper. “correct.”

something about the way he says it makes her skin prickle. detached. uninterested. like there’s something more beneath the surface that he’s choosing not to acknowledge.

she watches him carefully. “why does it feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?”

finally, he looks up. his gaze is flat, unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. something assessing. “your grandparents had… unique arrangements.”

myah frowns. “what the hell does that mean?”

nakamura exhales sharply, like he doesn’t have the patience for this conversation. he flips to another page, scanning it briefly before speaking again.

“i assume you’re already aware?”

“aware of what?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he leans back slightly, studying her. it’s subtle, but she can feel it. the weight of something unspoken pressing down on the space between them.

“they never told you.”

it’s not a question.

myah grips the edge of the table. she feels like a child again, sitting on the tatami floor of her grandparents’ home, listening to them speak in hushed voices behind closed doors. she remembers the way they would change the subject when she walked into the room, the way certain guests were never introduced to her.

she swallows hard. “told me what?”

nakamura closes the folder. “that’s beyond my jurisdiction.”

her frustration flares. “you just said i inherited everything. how can i not know what it is i’m inheriting?”

his lips press into a thin line. “you’ll find out soon enough.”

she stares at him, heart pounding. “is this about the business?”

he says nothing.

her pulse thrums in her ears. her grandparents had always been private, but she’d never questioned it. not really. but now, memories resurface, fleeting moments she hadn’t thought twice about as a child. the times her grandfather would leave in the dead of night without explanation. the strange symbols carved into the wooden beams of their home. the way her grandmother had once told her, in a voice lower than a whisper, that some things were better left unknown.

her skin crawls.

she pushes back her chair, standing abruptly. “fine,” she says, voice steadier than she feels. “if you won’t tell me, i’ll figure it out myself.”

nakamura merely nods, as if he expected this. “i suggest you be careful, ms. takahashi.”

she pauses. “careful?”

he meets her eyes. for the first time, there’s something almost like pity in his expression. “your grandparents kept secrets for a reason.”

she doesn’t reply. instead, she turns on her heel and walks out, the weight of his words settling over her like a thick, suffocating fog.

as she steps out of the courthouse and into the cold afternoon air, she realizes something.

this isn’t just an inheritance.

it’s a warning.

the house loomed before her, silent and still, wrapped in the eerie hush of abandonment. myah hesitated at the front steps, the key trembling in her fingers. it had been years since she last stood here, and yet, the sight of it felt unchanged, untouched by time. the wooden panels, once pristine, were weathered now, darkened with age. the porch creaked beneath her weight, groaning in protest as if resenting her return.

she inhaled deeply, pushing open the door. a gust of stale air met her, thick with dust and something else. something faintly familiar, like the remnants of a past life lingering in the shadows.

the entryway was dim, the last rays of evening light slanting through the curtains. it illuminated the fine dust particles dancing in the air, disturbed by her arrival. she took a cautious step inside, her boots barely making a sound against the hardwood floors.

nostalgia washed over her in a slow, creeping wave.

her old home.

her prison.

she moved forward, trailing her fingers along the edge of a wooden console table. the family photographs were still there, frozen in time. her as a child, grinning with a missing front tooth; her grandparents, stoic and composed, their gazes like polished glass. she swallowed, suddenly aware of how empty the house felt without them.

her feet carried her down the hallway, past the framed paintings, the delicate porcelain vases her grandmother had so carefully collected. everything was exactly as she remembered it, yet now, it all felt foreign.

the door to her old room creaked as she pushed it open, revealing the untouched relic of her childhood. the bed was still covered in soft pink sheets, the plush rabbit she once slept with propped neatly against the pillows. shelves lined the walls, packed with old books and trinkets, a collection of memories she had long since outgrown but never discarded.

she stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and lavender, remnants of an old sachet her grandmother had once placed in the drawers. myah trailed her hands over the desk, her fingertips brushing against the carvings she had made as a child. little stars and swirls etched into the wood, secrets only she had known.

a lump formed in her throat.

it was as if the house had been waiting for her, frozen in time, unwilling to move on without her.

but she wasn’t that little girl anymore.

she turned away, her heart heavy, and made her way toward the kitchen.

the moment she stepped inside, an unexpected scent wrapped around her. cinnamon.

she inhaled sharply, the smell pulling her back in time, back to when her grandmother stood by the stove, humming softly as she baked pastries, hands dusted in flour, her touch light but firm.

the kitchen was eerily unchanged. the wooden dining table sat in the center, the same lace tablecloth draped over it. the copper pots hung from their hooks, gleaming faintly under the dim light filtering through the windows. the oven door was slightly ajar, as if waiting to be used again.

myah reached for the chair she always used to sit in, running her hands along its worn edges.

for a moment, she swore she could hear the distant echoes of laughter, her own, bright and carefree. her grandmother’s gentle voice calling her name. the scrape of a spoon against a mixing bowl.

but when she blinked, the house remained empty.

silent.

a chill ran through her.

she wasn’t sure if it was the memories, the eerie preservation of the house, or something else entirely, but a deep unease settled in her chest.

she wasn’t alone.

not in the way one might think.

the house was watching her. waiting.

for what, she wasn’t sure.

and that unsettled her most of all.

she stood there for a long time, gripping the back of the chair like it might steady her, like it might pull her back to reality. but reality felt warped here, tangled up in memory and dust, in the heavy silence pressing against her ears.

with a slow breath, myah moved to the counter, trailing her fingers along the cold marble. the spice rack still stood in the corner, filled with half-used jars of star anise, cinnamon sticks, and dried lavender. she picked one up absentmindedly, twisting the cap off, breathing in the scent.

it was strange, how something so small could feel so intimate. so personal.

she set it down carefully, eyes drifting to the old wooden cabinets, the fridge that hummed quietly in the background, still plugged in after all these years. her grandmother never threw anything away if she could help it.

the thought made myah’s throat tighten.

turning away, she let her eyes sweep over the kitchen once more, as if expecting some ghost of the past to materialize. but there was nothing. just an old house, preserved in time, waiting for someone to come home.

she exhaled sharply. enough of this.

pushing away from the counter, she made her way back to the hallway, her footsteps muted against the wooden floors. the house stretched before her, dark and still, the air thick with something unspoken.

she glanced toward the staircase.

it loomed in the dim light, each step leading up to the second floor where the bedrooms lay.

her grandparents’ room.

a part of her didn’t want to see it. didn’t want to step inside and confirm the emptiness, to find that even in death, they still lingered in the walls.

but another part of her, some quiet, stubborn part, needed to.

so she moved forward.

the stairs creaked under her weight, the sound sharp and jarring in the stillness. she reached the landing, her hand hovering over the railing, the hallway stretching before her.

their bedroom door was shut.

it always had been, even when they were alive.

she hesitated, heart pounding, before slowly wrapping her fingers around the brass doorknob and twisting it open.

the room smelled of old fabric and cedar, of the faintest trace of perfume that had long since faded.

the bed was neatly made, the way her grandmother always kept it. a thick comforter tucked tightly around the edges, pillows stacked just right. their nightstands remained untouched, her grandfather’s old watch resting beside a pair of reading glasses, a book left open on the page he had last read.

a lump formed in her throat.

it felt wrong, stepping into their space like this. like she was intruding on something sacred.

but they were gone. and this, this was hers now.

she swallowed hard, stepping toward the vanity where her grandmother used to sit every morning, brushing her hair with slow, careful strokes.

a jewelry box rested on top, slightly ajar.

myah reached for it, fingers ghosting over the delicate carvings on the lid before she lifted it fully open.

inside, tucked beneath strands of pearls and old brooches, was a folded piece of paper.

her brows furrowed.

she reached for it, unfolding it carefully, her eyes scanning the delicate script.

“myah, if you’re reading this then you already know.”

her breath hitched.

know what?

her eyes darted to the next lines, but the ink was smudged, blurred beyond recognition.

frustration curled in her chest. she turned the paper over, searching for something, anything, but the back was blank.

what was she supposed to know?

a cold dread crept over her skin.

the lawyer’s words echoed in her head. “your grandparents had… unique arrangements.”

she gritted her teeth, folding the letter carefully before tucking it into her pocket.

whatever this was, whatever secrets they had left behind, she wasn’t leaving until she figured it out.

but first, she needed to breathe.

with one last glance around the room, she turned on her heel and left, shutting the door softly behind her.

downstairs, the house still smelled like cinnamon.

but now, it felt different.

like it wasn’t just waiting.

like it was watching.

myah spent the next few hours drifting from room to room, her fingers brushing over old furniture, the edges of framed photographs, the small trinkets left untouched on shelves. everything felt preserved, like a museum of her childhood, but also strangely off.

it wasn’t just the stillness, or the way dust had settled into the corners, or even the letter tucked inside her pocket, burning against her thigh like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

it was the feeling of something lurking just beneath the surface, something she couldn’t quite place.

standing in the living room, she traced the edge of a porcelain figurine resting on the mantel. her grandmother had collected them. tiny, delicate things, each one hand-painted and arranged meticulously.

she used to get scolded for playing with them.

“they’re not toys, myah. they’re memories.”

the words echoed now, soft as a whisper in the back of her mind.

she swallowed, stepping back.

the old grandfather clock in the corner ticked on steadily, its rhythmic beat filling the silence.

she exhaled slowly, pressing her palms against her temples.

this was too much.

the house. the will. the cryptic words from the lawyer.

and the letter, "if you’re reading this… then you already know."

but she didn’t know. and the longer she stayed here, the more it felt like the walls were closing in around her, whispering secrets just out of reach.

a sudden noise, soft, almost imperceptible, made her freeze.

a creak.

her head snapped toward the hallway.

the house was old. old houses made noise. that was all.

but still, she held her breath, listening.

nothing.

shaking herself, she exhaled sharply and turned toward the kitchen.

she needed water. something to ground herself.

the faucet groaned as she turned it on, the stream cold against her palms as she let it run.

she gripped the edge of the sink, trying to steady herself.

what the hell was she even doing here?

she should leave. pack up whatever was necessary, figure out the rest later. maybe even sell the house. she didn’t need it, didn’t want it.

but even as the thought crossed her mind, something inside her rebelled against it.

because this place wasn’t just a house.

it was hers.

and whether she wanted to or not, she had to figure out why.

the letter in her pocket felt heavier than before.

sighing, she turned off the faucet and wiped her hands on a nearby towel.

she’d start with the office.

her grandfather had always been meticulous. if there were any answers, they’d be in there.

squaring her shoulders, she stepped out of the kitchen, the house humming with silence around her.

but as she made her way toward the study, that lingering sense of unease refused to fade.

if anything, it grew stronger.

the study was exactly how she remembered it, dark wood, overstuffed bookshelves, the faint scent of old paper and something deeper, something almost metallic.

she hesitated in the doorway, fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater.

when she was younger, she wasn’t allowed in here. her grandfather had been strict about that, always keeping the door locked, always keeping his work private.

“there are things a child doesn’t need to know, myah.”

but she wasn’t a child anymore.

stepping inside, she let the door creak shut behind her.

dust coated the desk in a fine layer, and when she reached out to drag her fingers across the surface, she left streaks in the residue.

it was strange, everything else in the house felt preserved, but this room felt abandoned.

like someone had left in a hurry.

or like they never intended to return.

she swallowed, moving toward the bookshelf.

her grandfather had always been a man of routine, of habit. if there was something to be found, it would be here.

she scanned the spines, history, philosophy, law… nothing out of place.

but as she reached out to pull one free, her hand brushed against something rough.

a piece of paper, wedged between the books.

her pulse picked up as she carefully tugged it free.

the paper was yellowed, edges curling. the handwriting was neat, deliberate.

but it wasn’t in japanese or korean.

it wasn’t even in english.

it was in a language she didn’t recognize at all.

frowning, she turned it over, hoping for some kind of explanation.

but there was nothing.

just that strange, foreign script staring back at her.

her stomach twisted.

she didn’t know why, but looking at it made her feel wrong.

like she wasn’t supposed to see it.

like she wasn’t supposed to be here.

her fingers trembled slightly as she folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket.

she’d figure it out later.

for now, she needed to keep searching.

turning back to the desk, she pulled open the first drawer.

empty.

second drawer.

empty.

third—

her breath caught.

there, nestled at the bottom, was a small wooden box.

unassuming, plain.

but locked.

she reached for it, running her fingers along the edges.

there was no key in sight.

but she knew, instinctively, that whatever was inside this box, it was important.

and she had to find a way to open it.

she sat back on her heels, staring at the box like it might open on its own if she willed it hard enough.

but of course, it didn’t.

with a frustrated sigh, she set it on the desk, fingers drumming against the wood.

her grandfather had always been careful. deliberate. if he locked something away, it was for a reason.

but where would he have kept the key?

standing, she let her gaze sweep the study again.

there were only so many places it could be.

the drawers were empty, but the bookshelf?

her fingers skimmed over the spines again, searching for anything that felt out of place.

just then her fingers ran over the spine of a book that didn’t quite fit.

it was thinner than the others, wedged between two thick tomes on legal theory.

heart pounding, she pulled it free.

inside, nestled within its hollowed-out pages, was a key.

her breath hitched.

hands shaking, she snatched it up, rushing back to the desk.

the key slid into the lock with a quiet click.

for a moment, she hesitated.

whatever was inside this box, it would change things.

she felt it.

but she couldn’t stop now.

with a deep breath, she lifted the lid.

inside was a stack of neatly folded documents.

on top, an envelope with her name written in her grandfather’s handwriting.

slowly, she picked it up, fingers ghosting over the ink.

she swallowed hard.

then, carefully, she slid her finger under the flap and pulled out the letter.

the first line made her blood run cold.

“if you are reading this, then we are already gone.”

myah’s breath caught in her throat. she stared at the words, fingers tightening around the letter as an eerie weight settled in her chest.

her grandfather’s handwriting was firm, precise, just as she remembered. but seeing it now, knowing he had written this with the knowledge that she would find it after his death, sent a shiver down her spine.

she forced herself to keep reading.

“there are things we never told you. things we kept hidden for your own good. but if you’ve found this, it means our past has finally caught up with you.”

her hands shook.

she swallowed hard, pressing her lips together.

“our estate is now yours, but with it comes responsibility. you may have thought our wealth came from years of business, from careful investments. but the truth is, our fortune was built on something else entirely.”

she blinked, rereading the line.

what the hell was he talking about?

her pulse hammered in her ears.

“the basement.”

she inhaled sharply, fingers tightening around the pages.

“we never spoke of it. we never let you near it. but you must understand it was necessary. everything we did was necessary.”

necessary for what?

she could feel her heartbeat in her throat, her stomach twisting as she scanned the rest of the letter.

“the key is in your hands now. what you do with it is your choice. but be warned, myah: there are things in this house that do not forgive, that do not forget. tread carefully.”

the letter ended there.

silence stretched in the study, thick and suffocating.

myah stared at the paper, rereading each word, her mind racing.

the basement?

her grandparents had never mentioned a basement.

she clenched the letter in her hands, standing abruptly.

her skin prickled with unease as she glanced around, the air in the house suddenly feeling heavier, colder.

the basement.

she had to find it.

she had to know what they were hiding.

slowly, she stepped out of the study, the floor creaking beneath her feet.

her breath came short and uneven as she moved down the hall, scanning the walls, the floor, any sign of a hidden door.

but there was nothing.

until—

her eyes landed on a spot in the dining room, just past the kitchen.

a section of the floor, slightly off-colored, slightly raised.

her pulse quickened.

she crossed the room, crouching down, fingers tracing along the edges of the wood.

it was subtle, almost invisible.

but when she pressed her palm flat against it, she felt it give.

a hidden panel.

with a sharp inhale, she dug her fingers beneath the seam and pulled.

the wood lifted, revealing a set of narrow stairs descending into darkness.

a rush of cold air hit her face.

her stomach twisted.

this was it.

the secret her grandparents had taken to their graves.

she swallowed hard.

then, gripping the edge of the opening, she forced herself to take the first step down.

the stairs groaned under her weight, the air growing colder with each step myah took. dust swirled in the dim light as she descended, the scent of damp wood and something faintly metallic filling her nose.

her fingers trembled as she reached out to brush the wall, searching for a light switch. her hand found something. an old metal box, cool to the touch. she hesitated before flipping it open.

click.

a single, flickering bulb buzzed to life overhead.

the basement was larger than she expected.

stone walls, lined with shelves covered in old books and boxes. a long, wooden table sat in the middle of the room, its surface scratched and scarred, as if it had seen years of use.

but it was what was beyond the table that sent a chill down her spine.

a door.

steel. bolted shut.

her breath caught in her throat.

what the hell were they keeping down here?

her fingers twitched at her sides as she stepped closer. dust clung to every surface, but the bolts on the door looked newer, untouched by time in a way that didn’t match the rest of the basement.

myah reached out, brushing the cold metal.

but before she could figure out how to unlock the door

bang.

she yelped, stumbling back as something slammed against the other side of the door.

her pulse roared in her ears.

another bang.

a scraping sound.

her breathing turned shallow as she staggered away, her body screaming at her to run, but she couldn’t. she couldn’t move. she could only stare.

because whatever was behind that door…

it wasn’t just alive.

it was waiting.

and now, it knew she was here.

her grandparents’ words echoed in her head.

“there are things in this house that do not forgive, that do not forget.”

her knees felt weak, the weight of the secret pressing down on her chest.

she needed to leave.

now.

with a sharp inhale, she turned on her heel and bolted up the stairs, slamming the wooden panel shut behind her.

the house was silent.

but she could still hear it.

the scratching.

the breathing.

whatever was in that basement,

it wasn’t going to stay down there forever.

the air in the house thickened, suffused with an unfamiliar scent that hung heavy, tainting the usual musky, cold atmosphere. it wasn’t just the sound of footsteps that caught their attention, though. it was the way the tension in the air shifted, thick with the faint taste of fear.

there was something different about her.

jungkook’s gaze flicked toward the door, his body tense as he inhaled deeply. the scent was faint, but unmistakable. her heartbeat, fast and uneven, vibrated in his chest like a deep drum, and he couldn’t help but feel the primal pull in his gut. she was afraid.

he growled low, a soft rumble that vibrated in his throat. there was something exhilarating about her fear, a delicious, undeniable charge that made his muscles flex, a heat pooling in his core. he’d been in the shadows for too long. it had been too long since he’d felt the heat of a prey’s fear, smelled it so close. “who is this?” his voice was hoarse, but he didn’t care.

the tiger hybrid lounging next to him snapped his gaze to the door, body going still. the instinct in him was electric, crackling beneath his skin. he could feel the air shifting, charged with something wild. he’d been caged for too long, too long without feeling this… alive. his lips pulled back into a predatory grin, and he let out a slow, guttural laugh. “her…” his voice rumbled, “she’s scared. but she doesn’t know it yet.”

the lion's golden hair gleamed faintly in the dim light as his sharp eyes locked onto the door. his body was tense, muscles coiled as he breathed in the scent of her, sweet, yet tainted with fear. he could sense the pull, the weight of her presence on the air. but it wasn’t just the scent that tugged at him. it was the hunger he felt rising in his chest, a deep-seated craving he hadn’t fed in far too long. “she’s not supposed to be here,” he muttered, his voice low and steady, but the edge of his tone betrayed a flicker of something else. something dark.

yoongi’s presence shifted in the shadows, his piercing eyes narrowing as he registered the subtle disturbance. there was a faint tug in his chest, a sharp awareness. his body had been still, cold, but now… now he could feel the faint hum of something that wasn’t just human. She wasn’t just human. his jaw tightened, the hunger in him rising to the surface, just beneath the calm exterior. “we’ll see how long she lasts.”

the scent of her fear curled around his senses, an intoxicating pull. jimin, who had been quietly observing, felt the subtle shift too. his silvery hair shimmered faintly in the low light, his expression unreadable but sharp. she’s different, he thought, his gaze still on the door, though there was a softness in his features that didn’t match the intensity of the others. She’s curious, but she doesn’t know the danger she’s walking into.

hoseok’s laugh broke the silence, bright, full of energy, but with a bite beneath it. he could feel it too. the anticipation that sparked in his veins, a restlessness he couldn’t shake. his eyes were bright, wide, a flicker of mischief in the depths. “she smells so good,” he teased, his voice almost playful, but there was something more raw behind his words. the hunger was in him, too, gnawing at the edges of his patience.

the tiger's muscles twitched in response to the shift in the air, his lips curling into a smirk. “she’s scared. that’s what makes it fun.” his voice was low, dark with something primal, something carnal. “let’s see if she tries to run.”

the tension in the room thickened, palpable. every hybrid could feel it. the scent of her, the way her breath quickened, the pulsing rhythm of her heartbeat that called to them like a beacon. they hadn’t been this close to something like her in so long.

and she was afraid. vulnerable.

but that wouldn’t save her.

yoongi’s gaze flicked to the door, his expression blank but the flicker of something darker in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. she won’t get far. she’ll be ours, whether she likes it or not.”

the air grew still, thick with the scent of her fear, the sound of her movements barely perceptible now. she was running, but it didn’t matter. she had been marked. and now… now they all knew.

the door wasn’t much of a barrier. it would only delay what was inevitable.

they could smell her, hear her. the hunt had begun.

authors note: hey guys heres part one, i hope you guys like it !! this is only my second work so i apologize in advance, i also know this chapter didn't have a lot but i really wanted to get a decent exposition before diving into the story. also im thinking of potentially doing a taglist but am unsure of the best way to go about that, please lmk if you have any suggestions, i'm super new to this so any advice is greatly appreciated, tysm !!

taglist: join taglist!

315 notes · View notes

lemonmaid · 9 months ago

Text

I see a lot of hybrid AUs for Task Force 141! And it makes me wonder if we can continue world building for it PLEASSE

Like example, owning a hybrid is now illegal, since most hybrids are acually intelligent enough to acually think for themselves (wow! Amazing!).

Do you think there is a hierarchy based on hybrids?

Like, exotic hybrids (Tigers, Birds, Nagas) have the most respect, like humans were "Yeah! Those guys shouldn't have to have owners to go outside!"

But hybrids like dogs, cats are still treated like "ohhh who's a good puppy!!!"

Then you have bunnies and cow hybrids that have been over-sexualized to the point where there is still derogatory and pressure to still join these industries that push horrible norms.

Anyways, I'm getting carry away. (In all honesty I make this a series because I'm too invested in this world building i made)

IMAGINE

Poly task force x Dog Hybrid! Reader

Imagine just walking in the park with your boyfriends (or mates. Whatever your instinct say) and your new pup (2 months!!).

Imagine just enjoying their company and the sun, since it's the first time you've been out of the house since the hard labor. And some fuck ass old person comes up.

"Aww what adorable puppy you have!! Even more a beautiful breed of dog you have!!" que their fuck ass hand trying to touch your ears.

Simon immediately interfering, doesn't care about this person age, grabbing their arm before entering your personal space.

Price and Kyle immediately ushering you and the pup away, that's enough sunshine for today and social interaction.

Johnny immediately asks how you feel, checking on the pup. (I kinda headcanon that Johnny is like a quarter hybrid, doesn't have the ears or tail but has the intelligence. Like heightened hearing, smell, taste).

Continuous of worlding building, let's say hybrid ownership ended before you were born or John even.

The after-effects are style lingering, because for the most part, your parents will go on to tell you that they were separated from their parents when they were seven to go be lap dogs or even police hybrids. You didn't even meet your own grandparents untill 15 since due to DNA testing, your parents were able to reconnect with their own parents. Resulting in pack scenting and a two week long vist.

Let's say you joined the military due to your parent's background as police dogs, you got that good nose.

You got trained to be a bomb detection unit with alot of other hybrids. That's where you ment Johnny.

In all honesty. You could say working in the military is were no one saw you as a hybrid but as you.

Anyways, again there is alot to explore with this world building.

Johnny introduced you to his "pack-mates". Ghost immediately is smitten by you, having a soft spot for dog hybrids. Kyle, thought you were great company, funny, charismatic, overall an amazing person to be around with. He started carrying snacks for you with the excuse "hybrids need to eat more because of the extra energy they need", nah he just like seeing your eyes lit up when he open a treat bag. Price immediately saw your useful skill set, started making calls to get you on his task force. Made the argument for "inclusivity".

After a missin going wrong, resulting in Johnny and you almost dying. Task force decided to retire together when their contacts were up.

Immediately after buying a home together, Johnny begged you for pup, using the excuse that he had a big family and wants one again.

His special skill set is puppy eyes.

#task force 141 imagine #task force 141 #task force x reader #141 x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #hybrid reader

521 notes · View notes

bloody-night · 5 months ago

Note

What do you think of the Lighter x male reader with feline behavior? For example, lighter didn't really notice this before the relationship, but after that he began to pay attention to how reader's eyes widen like cats when they see what they like, or he starts making sounds similar to purring when lighter strokes him. You can write as a full-fledged fic or as a headcanon, if possible, then add nsfw if you have any ideas. Sorry if it's too much, have a nice day!

Feline characteristics

Lighter x male reader

Been wanting to write king for a few

Definitely will find you interesting the first he laid eyes on you.

Would always take note of how your pupils would either thin out or dilate

He’d question if you were a therein or the hybrid of human x therein, since there was never a tail or ears to see from you

You’d take note of him too, for his infamous red scarf and reputation in the ring

Before, you’d always pass by him and say a couple of words before heading on out

But the more you’d visit, the longer your conversations lasted

That is until you were the one who asked him out

He was rather flustered but definitely agreed

Now instead of your eyes slitting when they’d see him, they’d dilate with familiarity

Dating you was sweet, you’d be around him, clinging onto him, almost like a cat…

More physically affectionate with you as you are with him

He’d give you head pats, or sometimes even full fledged petting, which he might be crazy, but could hear sounds of purring coming out of you when you sleep with your head on his lap

In public, you’d sneak kisses here and there, almost like those ‘kiss but don’t get caught’ games

You’d both go out holding hands, or sometimes having arms linked together and walking along sixth street.

And he swears he hears that slightly quiet but noticeable purr

Dates are cute and mostly at night, either going out for a sweet dinner, a night in, or drinking nitro-fuel at bars, where things would escalate quickly for the both of you

Your eyes dilate when you see him anywhere, posters, billboards, or even him being there, your friends take note of it and tease you for it, but you don’t mind.

NSFW

When you both go into the bedroom with one of you tipsy/drunk, you both come out scratched and bruised, people would think you both were into a fight, but the intercourse between you both is crazy

Just like a cat, you can’t help but latch your semi-small fangs into his sweaty neck as you pound your cock deep inside him, having Lighter moan your name breathlessly.

Just like a cat, your eagerness to taste your lover is on. Tongue dragging along Lighter’s toned body, making him shiver slightly from the wetness of your saliva as you’d cover him.

Just like a cat, you miraculously have a knot at the base of your cock, making Lighter moan as he stays still, feeling it inflame and thicken, his fleshy ass tightening around you as you fill him up to the brim with your cum, Lighter’s own cock squirting ropes of cum, staining the sheets as he can’t help but drool from how good you fill him up

JUST LIKE A CAT, you purr as you stay still, waiting for your knot to cool down before going for more rounds

Lighter returns the favors of biting, licking, and scratching back to you, leaving you marked as well

At the end, you still somehow have enough stamina to care for your man, cleaning him and grooming him to be neatly and comfortable for him to sleep.

#x top male reader #x male reader #zzz x you #zzz x male reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero lighter #zenless zone zero x reader #zenless zone zero x male reader #lighter (zzz) x male reader #lighter x male reader #lighter x you #lighter x reader

223 notes · View notes

aventurineswife · 3 months ago

Note

–HELLO RINNIE!!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)//

An idea that occurred thanks to the movie "Alice in Wonderland" (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Regarding the request, it consists of the readers being inspired by or being descendants of the Cheshire cat. They have the same ability as the original Cheshire cat, they can appear and disappear at will leaving their characteristic smile for a few minutes and can make parts of their body visible or invisible.

They can also impersonate their partner or people in general, copying their appearance and personality, although this will not always be perfect, allowing for slight changes in appearance, for example; Eyes.They mostly speak with philosophical quotes or riddles, looking to make a play on words, this makes the vast majority of people not like that trait along with their jokes. Appearing and reappearing to scare or prank someone.

With the characters: Aventurine, Childe, Dr. Ratio and Moze.

-💤🩵 anon

“Would You Chase the Cat or the Shadow?”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Childe x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Moze x Reader, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Philosophical Themes, Playful Banter, Emotional Vulnerability, Mild Humor, Romance (?), Power Dynamics, Found Family (implied in some).

Warnings: Mild Language, Mentions of Trauma, Emotional Manipulation (minor), Existential Themes, Mild Violence (assassin/strategist context), Lightly Dark Humor, Brief Moments of Tension, and Ambiguous Morality.

The air was electric, the smell of velveted smoke and clinking glass saturating the casino floor where Aventurine presided like a monarch in his tailored coat. You, on the other hand, perched invisibly atop one of the roulette tables, smirking to yourself as you watched the master strategist at work.

“You’re awfully predictable for someone so… clever,” you purred, appearing with only your iconic grin floating near Aventurine's ear. His eyes narrowed as he halted mid-bet.

“Predictable? Me?” His lips twitched into a grin that matched your own. “Bold words for someone who thinks riddles count as foreplay.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, stepping into visibility with a languid flourish, your tail swishing playfully behind you. “But in this endless game of chance, even the best players can be read, no? You bet like someone who’s trying to lose—only to win something greater.”

Aventurine chuckled, clapping his hands in mock applause. “Touché. But tell me, do all Cheshire cats eavesdrop, or are you just smitten with me?”

“Oh, smitten is such a strong word,” you teased, vanishing again, only to reappear lounging against the bar. “Perhaps I just enjoy watching you gamble with your life as though it’s a trinket on the table. After all, the house always wins… eventually.”

His expression turned sharp, though the smile remained. “Are you the house, then?”

“Depends,” you replied, stepping closer until your faces were nearly touching. “What’s the wager?”

The intensity in Aventurine’s gaze deepened, but you disappeared again before he could answer, leaving only your lingering laugh in the air.

Later that night, as Aventurine retreated to his suite, he found you already lounging on his couch, wearing an eerily perfect copy of his tailored blazer. “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you said, inspecting your claws. “I couldn’t resist trying it on.”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re bold to think you can imitate me.”

“Oh, darling,” you said, morphing into his likeness—flawed only by the glint of mischief in your borrowed eyes. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

Aventurine approached you, his amusement tempered by intrigue. “And yet you’re not perfect. A slight shimmer in the eyes, a touch too much drama in the voice…” He leaned down, face inches from yours. “If you want to play games, cat, you’ll have to do better.”

Your grin widened as you melted back into your usual form. “But where’s the fun in being perfect? Chaos is far more entertaining, wouldn’t you agree?”

For the first time, Aventurine felt a flicker of being outmatched—not in strategy, but in the delightful unpredictability of your game. He didn’t mind losing this round, as long as you stayed in his orbit.

The battlefield was quiet save for the sharp crackle of electricity in the air. Childe stood amidst the carnage, his twin blades dissolving in his hands as his sharp eyes surveyed the scene. He wasn’t alone—he could feel your presence.

“You’re late,” he called out, spinning his Vision in his hand. “Or are you just enjoying the view?”

Your laughter echoed through the mist, disembodied and teasing. “Oh, what a grand performance, Harbinger. You dance so beautifully with death. Perhaps I should clap.”

Childe smirked, his body tense as he turned his head. “Do cats always talk this much, or are you just scared to show yourself?”

The grin materialized first, hanging in the air just over his shoulder. “Scared? My dear Ajax, you wound me. Why would I fear a man who fights with such… grace?”

Before he could respond, you appeared perched atop a broken column, mimicking his stance. Your bow was a poor imitation of his, crackling with energy that looked almost like his Hydro powers—though the telltale shimmer in your eyes betrayed your disguise.

He pointed a blade at you. “If you’re going to pretend to be me, at least get my aim right.”

You snickered, disappearing and reappearing behind him. “Oh, but where’s the fun in perfect mimicry? A hunter like you should know—the thrill lies in the chase, not the catch.”

Childe turned sharply, grinning now as the thrill of competition lit his eyes. “Then run, cat. Let’s see how fast you are.”

And so the game began. You vanished and reappeared around the ruins, throwing out cryptic riddles and taunts while Childe gave chase, his laughter mingling with yours in the moonlit night.

By the time he cornered you—your back against the edge of a cliff—you were breathless, but your grin never wavered.

“Well done, hunter,” you said, leaning closer, your nose almost touching his. “You’ve caught your prey. What will you do with me now?”

Childe’s smirk widened as he lowered his blades. “That depends. Will you run again, or do I get to keep you this time?”

You disappeared one last time, leaving only your grin floating in the air. “Catch me first, and we’ll see.”

In the quiet halls of the Intelligentsia Guild, Ratio prided himself on his unmatched intellect. But when you appeared—floating upside down from a beam, your grin wide and enigmatic—he realized he might have met his match.

“You’re in my way,” he said flatly, not even sparing you a glance.

“Oh, am I?” you replied, flipping upright and landing softly on the floor. “Or perhaps I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. After all, isn’t the pursuit of knowledge full of unexpected twists?”

Ratio frowned, finally looking at you. “You speak in riddles, yet say nothing at all. If you’re trying to impress me, you’ll have to try harder.”

Your grin only widened as you copied his stance—hands behind your back, head tilted slightly. “Impress you? My dear doctor, I thought I already had.”

He studied you carefully, noting the imperfection in your impersonation: your eyes sparkled too brightly, and your tone carried a playfulness he lacked. “If you’re attempting mimicry, you’ve failed. I am beyond imitation.”

“Perhaps,” you conceded, disappearing and reappearing beside his desk. “But even perfection can be teased, no?”

Ratio sighed. “I don’t have time for games.”

“But isn’t life itself a game, Dr. Ratio? A series of moves and countermoves, all leading to… what? Enlightenment? Or oblivion?” You perched on his desk, watching as he paused, clearly irritated but intrigued.

“You speak as if chaos holds the answers,” he said, stepping closer. “But order is the path to truth.”

You grinned again, vanishing just as he reached out to grab you. “Ah, but chaos and order are two sides of the same coin. Flip it, and you might find me again.”

For days after, Ratio found himself drawn to your riddles, puzzling over their meaning despite his better judgment.

Moze moved silently through the darkness, his blade ready as he stalked his latest target. But he wasn’t alone—he could feel your presence like a whisper of wind at his back.

“Do you always hunt in silence?” you teased, your voice echoing through the shadowy alley. “Or is it just when I’m around?”

Moze didn’t flinch, though his grip on his blade tightened. “Show yourself.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” your disembodied grin appeared before him, your voice lilting with amusement. “You thrive in shadows, Moze. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He lunged, but you vanished before his blade could make contact. “You talk too much,” he muttered.

“And you talk too little,” you countered, appearing on a nearby rooftop, mimicking his brooding stance. “Opposites attract, don’t they?”

Moze sighed, lowering his weapon. “What do you want?”

“To see you smile.” you replied, grinning even wider.

He didn’t respond, but as you disappeared again, leaving only your laughter behind, Moze found himself smirking despite himself.

141 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months ago

Note

i'm so sorry to put this thought into the world and if you've already talked about this but are beastfolk... furries? I'm not familiar with what they are and on the loose definition i think they are? I'm sorry

No, they’re not 😅 Beastmen are considered their own race in Twisted Wonderland. Leona even remarks in Cloudcalling on the Savanna that “beastfolk descend from the animals.”

They have actual animal DNA in them—so their animal traits (tails, ears, feathers/fur, behaviors, etc.) are very much real. They’re not just slapping on a pair of fake ears and a fake tail and roleplaying as their fursonas, and they’re not into anthropomorphic animals; they generally live like regular humans and don’t generally share the same interests as furries do.

Beastmen are related to a popular trope in Japanese media known as kemonomimi, which are human characters with animal ears. The most common example of this is the neko or cat girl.

Furries, on the other tend to prefer… more animal on the spectrum than human. Something closer to the characters you’d find in Zootopia:

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Leona Kingscholar #Zootopia #notes from the writing raven #question

162 notes · View notes

doki-doki-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

Hybrid!Cow Nagi x Reader

tw: Smut, afab reader, use of she/her, hybrid x human sex, Nagi is a bit mean, but he is also very very in love.

a/n: a small piece of a much bigger fic inspired by this official art. This is just the smut part, but I wanted to get this idea out of my system. It was set in a world where most people are hybrids, and just a few (like reader) are born human. Nagi is one of the local mailmen and the first person to meet you. It was going to be a long, fluffy fic ending with filthy smut. So take just the cherry on top, lol. Maybe one day I'll complete this.

Seishiro isn’t used to rough nights like he isn’t used to scratched knuckles and sore muscles, but it seemed the only right thing to do when that shit poor example of a cat hybrid treated you like that.

He lays on your bed, white hair sprawled on your soft sky-blue pillow, his large-fitting hoodie and blue pants miraculously clean. “Smell nice” Seishiro thinks, cow ears fluttering when your smell on the pillow hits his nostrils. It’s relaxing after such an intense fight. For that dude, not for him.

“It’s an honor to be my partner-“ “Nobody wants a simple human as a partner, I’m doing it just because my parents asked, and anyway they should thank me since I could get much better-“ “I don’t want a loser nerd as a partner, they should start to dress and eat better-“

Seishiro doesn’t remember what came first, but the clear image of you crouched on yourself, lips trembling and fat tears hanging on your lower lashes keeps playing in his head. His tail beat nervously on your mattress, remembering the entitlement in that loser voice. Nagi bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood, your pillow now pressed to his face, trying to calm himself down with your smell. His leg twitches, remembering how hard he kicked that douchebag, straight on his chest, making him hit a table behind and surprising all his friends.

It was already a pain to go out with everyone, but seeing you on a date with a guy that wasn’t him, and treated that badly was the cherry on top of his already poor patience.

“Is everything okay Nagi?” A shiver runs down Seishiro’s body, making every muscle twitch for the surprise. He moves away the pillow, side-eyeing you, before plopping it on his back to look better at you.

“I have to ask two things-“ You nod, prompting him to ask whatever he wants, while sitting on your bed, eyes locked with his ones.

“Call me Seishiro-“ You nod “and-“ He gulps, throat dry from the moment your figure met his sight. “Are you trying to seduce me?” His voice is calm as always, but the intensity of his eyes makes you jump on the spot.

“Seduce? I mean, I usually dress like this to-“ You turn around, not wanting to look at him, embarrassed by his comment. Your sheer nightgown, with cute sunflowers embroidered on it and matching panties, left very little to the imagination after all. Not to talk about you being braless, a sight that sent in short circuit his brain.

“Usually, so not always-” He whispers, almost into your ear. He can see a shiver running down your spine making you arch. The desire to run a finger from your neck to your lower back is tempting.

He lay his chin on your shoulder, letting out a sigh, annoyed by the whirlwind that is happening in his stomach. “Can I kiss you?” His greyish eyes lock with yours, trying to read your emotions. Seishiro doesn’t move, waiting to understand your intentions.

You nod, and to Seishiro's surprise, you make the first move. Your soft lips touch his ones, it’s a butterfly touch that lasts way too little for the white-haired guy's tastes. “Is it good?” Your voice breaks a little and Nagi has to keep himself from pinching your cheek. “Yeah, but let’s improve.” He mutters back, full lips locking with yours, tasting a different shade of love from the previous one. Seishiro’s eyes are closed but he can feel your softer hands cupping his cheeks, before sliding lower to his chin and neck. He worries that you may have pyrokinetic powers since every time you touch his naked skin he seems to get hotter.

You moan into his mouth when his big hands start to wander, one groping your mound, protected by his rough touch thanks to your thin nightgown. The other pushed you towards the mattress, making you both slide lower into your bed.

“Sei-“ You break the kiss, breath heavy and barely open eyes, just to notice your lover laying at your side, the end of his tail tickling your right thigh.

“Can I go further?” He is surprised by himself. Seishiro, Mr. Hassle man suddenly asks for more and more, knowing exactly that he’ll have to do most of the work. You nod, neck turned in an uncomfortable position. Nagi notices and decides to leave little pecks down your throat, trying to make you relax.

Such a gentle gesture as opposed to his deft fingers lifting the end of your nightgown, exposing the soft skin of your leg to his rough handling. Hand groping and slapping your thigh with no finesse and for his own enjoyment.

“Ngh, Nagi-“ You get interrupted by another slap to your leg, making your ass grind into his lap, a gesture that generates a choked moan in Seishiro’s throat. “I told you to call me Seishiro-“ He spits out, leaving a small bite on your shoulder, not too hard to bruise, but still leaving a sign.

Nagi’s lips find yours again, his tongue prodding at your entrance, asking, wanting, to lap into your mouth, to drink your moans, and to taste your spit. You surrender immediately, your tongue weakly fighting against his, lost to the pleasure this entire situation is bringing you. The hand that was massaging your leg is sliding closer to your core, bunching your nightgown to your waist. A deft finger slides into your panties, playing first with one curl of your hairs, before pulling it, making you groan.

“She kept herself untouched for me, maybe she hoped to scare that loser off-“Seishiro thinks, pushing his hips, and therefore his boner against your ass, that idea clouding his brain even more. “I like them, keep them for me, mh?” He pants in your mouth, your lips still slightly open from the previous kiss. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips and Nagi takes it as consent to his order instead of a response to his forefinger assaulting your clit.

Seishiro has never been a patient guy, and it shows even now when his fingers caress your outer folds before digging a bit deeper, but never enough for your taste, edging you constantly while playing with the bundle of nerves with no grace. He wants to see fat tears roll down your cheeks, he wants to hear you beg for him, he wants to feel desired, and he wants it now.

“Sei-Seishiro!” You half scream, closing your eyes and finally, making tears escape. Nagi keeps himself from smirking, but his heart roars in pleasure at the sight. “Good-“

“You-you are a bully.” You interrupt him, your own phrase is broken by sighs of pleasure. Breath gets caught in his throat, not expecting to hear that from you, dick twitching when hearing your voice in strain.

“So, you don’t like me anymore? You want me to get out?” Seishiro teases you, speeding up the movement of his fingers. Your head moving left and right tells him all he needs to know, together with the hand that keeps pulling at the collar of his hoodie to keep him close. He finally pushes his middle finger inside your wet core “So wet, for me.” He mumbles biting his lower lip, thrusting faster, and soon adding the ring finger, curling them so deliciously that your eyes cross in pleasure. You are a mess, but Seishiro is no better, grinding his clothed boner into your ass desperately searching for relief, while his tail keeps trashing on his side of the bed, trying not to hurt your softer, human skin.

“Ah-ah” You moan, almost into his mouth, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

“Why do you keep your mouth open? C’mon if you need to say something, say it-“ The malice in his voice is clear, teasing you so meanly, but he can’t really stop himself from trying to push your buttons.

“Ngh-bully!” You groan back, your hand sliding to his hard-on groping it through his gym pants, noticing the big wet patch.

And how big he is.

“Ah-“ He moans too, the touch of your smaller hand driving him almost immediately to completion. It soon becomes a competition on whom would crumble first, both your bodies hot and sweaty trying to pull away but at the same time searching desperately for each other touch.

You reach your end first, throwing your head back into his shoulder, and letting out a high-pitched moan that Seishiro is sure to remember till he breathes. He pulls away as soon as possible, laying on his back and immediately pushing down, just the needed amount, his pants and boxers, freeing his erection, which hit his still-covered abdomen.

“Angh-“ He groans half in pain and half in pleasure for being finally able to free his cock, all flushed and angry for being edged for so long.

“Sei-“ You turn around. The mixture of your sweet, wet eyes and soft voice almost makes Nagi cum on the spot. “G-give me a moment. Then I-I can try to ride you.” You say in between heavy breaths, still swimming in the pleasure of the previous orgasm.

But as much as Seishiro would like to accept “N-No, turn around like before.” He orders, but to your ears, it seems more like he is begging you. Nagi notices and damn himself for sounding so pathetic, but the image of you on top of him, wet eyes, pouty mouth, and trembling legs, still wearing that damn sheer nightgown, wouldn’t make him last.

To say the truth just that image is sending him over the edge.

You nod at his request, turning around just like he asked; you must have thrown your panties somewhere since your back is completely exposed to him. Some droplet of your essence stains the apex of your legs, making Seishiro damn himself for not going down on you, having now to settle for his fingers to taste you.

Seishiro doesn’t indulge too much in your taste, even if it matches your smell, intoxicating, therefore he rolls on your side, grabbing your waist to pull you closer, his erection grinding against your back, slick with all the pre that copiously rolled down during your intercourse.

“Is-Is it gonna fit?” You look at him, and Nagi doesn’t have in him to lie to such sweet eyes “Maybe. I’ll go slow. If you were a cow hybrid it would have been easier-“ He brushes away some hair sticking to your forehead to land a sweet long kiss there “But I want you. More than any hybrid, ever. If it hurts I’m gonna stop.” He kisses your cheek, now dry after all those tears, before pushing just the tip inside your core.

Seishiro sees you wince, but you don’t tell him to stop. His left hand that was holding your waist is now entwined with yours, the other massaging your bosom, but not resisting the desire to pinch your pert nipple. Nagi pecks down your neck, to your chest, while sliding his throbbing member inside you, trying to ease your pain.

“Ngh-“ He groans, irises become liquid bliss. You are so warm and welcoming, sucking him in like you were made to fit together. All those hybrid theories could go fuck themselves because the white-haired guy is sure nobody could make him feel so ecstatic. “You are so good- so good for me.” He moans in between kisses, pushing your nightgown up to touch your trembling tummy, mouth now kissing and sucking your covered chest, pulling sweet moans out of your throat, while his tail tries to encircle your lifted leg to keep you impossibly close.

“You-You feel so nice Sei-“ You breathe out, scratching the little hair on his nape pulling a guttural groan from his mouth. He looks back at you, and you twitch feeling his hot mouth leaving your bosom, missing it already “Can I fuck you?” You tighten around his length and nod, biting your lower lip eyes looking at him so deeply he thinks he may drown in them.

He starts slowly, never really pushing out, not wanting to be separated long from your warmth. But things start to go downhill when your sweet, almost mellifluous moans meet his ears, calling his name so deliciously that he soon gives up on rationality like a sailor enchanted by a mermaid’s voice. His thrusts are deep and fast, making you both mewl out each other names.

“I’m-close-“ You slur out, one hand gripping one of the small horns on Nagi’s head to find purchase to reality in this frenzy. Seishiro just nods at your words, having noticed way before you told him, his length almost slipping out for how wet you are. His deft fingers return to your clit, rubbing furious circles on it to bring you to your apex “Ngh-no, together.” You grumble, trashing a bit and trying to pull away the hand that was bringing you so soon to delirious pleasure.

He looks at you from the nook of your head, not sure you are serious about this. But the look in your eyes, so determined and confident makes him crumble. “Ngh, ah-“ A pathetic mewl escaped his throat making him wince for how cringe he sounded, his thrusts now sloppy and with no finesse, just trying to grind the both of you to the apex. Seishiro kisses your already swollen lips when you reach your peak, too worried about the pitiful sound he’d make, but damning himself for losing the occasion to hear your voice one more time. Your walls spasm around his length trying to suck everything from his cock, desperate to have all of him inside you. He thrusts a bit more into your core, not wanting to leave your warmth so soon, but the overstimulation feels soon overbearing.

You break the kiss, both your breaths are heavy, lashes hanging low like you are waking up from a dream. You cup his cheek, your thumb tracing little hearts making his heart thump harder than before. It seems like you want to say something, you have a cute little smile on your face but Seishiro doesn’t give you the time, his plump lips against yours, tongue already begging for one more dance. The overstimulation subdues to desire, and from the twinkle in your eyes, Seishiro knows you are on the same page.

The night ahead is still long.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi x y/n #nagi smut

437 notes · View notes

forestclan-clangen · 2 months ago

Text

MOON 12 (Part 2)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Olive recovers from yellowcough. She can finally do her work as mediator. She offers to mediate between Windfur and Shiverpaw, who have a very strenuous mentor-apprentice relationship.

(Olive, mediator, female, 68 moons. Calm.) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 26 moons. Lonesome.) (Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, 12 moons. Loving.)

---

Olive had one job. Just one. She hadn't gotten the chance to do her job in a year. She just wanted to actually contribute to her new, gracious home, for once in twelve moons. What she didn't expect was for Clan cats to pull teeth trying to talk about how they felt.

Yes, she wasn't a saint. She knew how it felt to keep things repressed. But the Clan had started to feel the rift between Windfur and Shiverpaw, and she noticed some members of the Clan starting to subtly take sides over who they trusted to care for them. Considering the things in the woods, she wasn't keen on seeing a group of tightly-knit cats experience a divide of any kind.

Coaxing Shiverpaw and Windfur to gently agree to a mediation was easier than she expected. Getting them to actually talk wasn't.

"When did this truly start?"

Shiverpaw stared at the floor and shrugged. Windfur looked away into the treeline and didn't say anything. Olive sighed.

"Both of you agreed to be here today. This means you both acknowledge there is an issue. Correct?"

Windfur hummed in acceptance. Shiverpaw gave a single nod, still staring at the floor.

"...This also suggests you are both willing to find a resolution."

Still, a reluctant acquiescence.

"I'm here to prevent an argument, and to allow both sides to speak their thoughts clearly. For example," Olive stretched and rolled on her back. Her green eyes flickered with calm submission as she spoke. "What would be the ideal result, and what do you believe would be a realistic result to our mediation today? Windfur, we can start with you. There are no wrong answers."

Windfur froze, his tail tucked tightly around his legs. His dark blue eyes were filled with hesitation. After a few moments of collecting himself, he meowed, "I just want to…go back to how things were in early leaf-fall. But I know that's not realistic."

Shiverpaw's ears twitched, but she said nothing.

"What do you believe to be realistic?" Olive prompted.

Windfur's tail twitched. "...I don't know."

"Okay. Think about it for a moment then. Shiverpaw, how about you?"

Shiverpaw's eyes didn't leave the ground. Olive was patient, and allowed her to think. She remembered being tended to by the young apprentice, when her back was still broken. She was skilled, and gentle with her patients. But she was also anxious, and prone to allow her mind to leave her body. She had taught her how to ground herself, many moons ago. Olive blinked slowly at Shiverpaw, but said nothing.

Shiverpaw's claws stretched and tapped at the ground gently. Finally, she meowed, "In a world with no pain, I wouldn't be hurt in the first place. But I'm not in that world. I'm here."

"And do you think you can alleviate that pain in our world?"

"From others, yes."

"And yourself?"

Silence.

Olive suppressed a sigh and sat back up. "I'll give you some time to think. In the meantime - Windfur? Have you thought about what a realistic outcome today could be?"

Windfur paused for only a moment before sighing, his tail twitching. "Well, I tried to apologize before. So I don't know."

Olive tilted her head. "Okay. Shiverpaw, do you feel like Windfur tried to apologize?"

Shiverpaw seemed sheepish. "...I guess," she mumbled.

"Is forgiveness something you feel you can give Windfur one day?"

As Shiverpaw didn't answer, still refusing to look at either cat, Windfur's fur slowly started bristling. His ears threatened to droop. Shiverpaw must've noticed this, as she finally sighed, her ears flattened behind her head.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable saying anything while you're here, Olive. I'm sorry."

Olive actually brightened by this notion, her ears perked up. "If I left you alone for a while, would you feel comfortable talking about this yourselves?"

Windfur seemed resistant, but when Shiverpaw nodded, the medicine cat reluctantly agreed as well. Olive yawned, then stretched her legs.

"Very well. I will return to the center of camp. I will check on you two in twenty minutes. Is that fine?"

"Yes. That'll do. Thank you, Olive," Windfur sighed. As the two watched Olive step out of the quiet corner of camp and padding over to speak with Riversnow at the cooking fire, Shiverpaw finally spoke, her voice near-monotone.

"I could have died. Barleywave and Morningspot too."

"I know." Windfur's ears flattened and he stared at the floor in shame.

"So why? Why send me out there?"

"I didn't know you would struggle, or that the blizzard would get so bad so quickly."

"A moon before that, I was almost killed by a Woodcrawler," Shiverpaw continued. Her voice held no sharpness, only sorrow. "Tree saved me. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have known it was there."

The silence was thick.

"And still, you sent me out in charge of a patrol, not even a moon after, in dangerous conditions."

"Because I trusted you," Windfur protested, his chest tightened.

"In a season I've never seen before?"

"Shiverpaw, please, you must believe me," the tom's tail twitched and his dark blue eyes were pleading. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just…I…"

"Did Chicoryglint treat you like this?"

Windfur looked at her with wide eyes in disbelief. His mouth hung open in shock. Shiverpaw gave him a stunned stare, as though the question surprised her as well, but her expression solidified, deciding she was satisfied with it. As Windfur finally processed the question, his fur bristled.

"Why are you asking this? How do you know her name?" he asked crossly.

"You mentioned her a few times when I was a fresh apprentice. You stopped talking about her not long after. The -....StarClan mentioned her to me last half-moon," Shiverpaw stumbled on her last sentence, momentarily guarded.

The two clerics stared at each other intensely for a while. The sounds of camp were drowned out by the anticipation of an answer. Windfur's ears twitched slightly, as though trying to parse his thoughts into a coherent answer. Finally, he closed his eyes, then forced his fur to lie flat.

"...Well?" Shiverpaw prompted.

"Give me a moment," Windfur replied, his voice tense. Shiverpaw gave him this grace. The two medicine cats remained in a tense silence as Windfur collected his thoughts. Finally, when the tom replied, his voice was quiet.

"...How old are you, Shiverpaw?"

Shiverpaw tilted her head. "Twelve moons."

Windfur blinked. That answer seemed to surprise him, for some reason. Just when she thought that she'd have to prompt him for an answer again, Windfur let out a deep sigh, then looked out into the middle of camp. His gaze was distant.

"...I've been thinking a lot about her. I loved my mentor. I really did. She was kind. Incredibly skilled. She challenged me to learn as much as I could, and taught me everything I know. She sang me songs. Helped me memorize treatments. I was devastated when she died." He paused again. "...I was twelve moons old when I became the sole medicine cat."

Shiverpaw didn't know how to feel. As much as she didn't like him, she couldn't imagine being left to take care of the clan on her own today. Did he really receive his name this early? She paused as her mind wandered to foggy memories of her kithood - Windfur always looked so tall and wise, just like all the adults. Is…that how Cloudthunder's kits saw her? She didn't feel like an adult. She barely knew what she was doing half the time. Windfur must've mistook her silence for pity, as he glanced at her and gave a hard stare.

"It's fine. I figured it out," he said. But after a few moments, he looked away. More quietly, he added, "...I wish I didn't have to."

"...You weren't left with much of a choice. She died," Shiverpaw murmured.

"No…she didn't."

Shiverpaw bristled. Suddenly, the words made by the beings not from StarClan made sense - asking if they knew where she was, as though there was a place outside of StarClan that she could be found.

"I thought she did. It was easier to believe that. Because if she didn't," Windfur swallowed. "Then it meant she waited until I was good enough to leave. And then I'd have to question the motives of everything else she did."

Shiverpaw was careful with her next words. She didn't know what kind of cat Chicoryglint was. But it didn't justify his choices to push Shiverpaw into situations she wasn't prepared for. It made her feel like Windfur didn't like being around her. When she opened her mouth to say something, Windfur interrupted her by raising a paw.

"This is not an excuse for my actions." Windfur lowered his paw, then curled his tail around himself. "I…acknowledge that this impacted my judgment over what you could do," Windfur struggled to finish his sentence. "And…I just want to apologize."

The sound of birds and Cloudthunder's kits squabbling loudly dominated the space left by their silence. Shiverpaw let herself sit with what Windfur told her. He said he realized how much his actions hurt her, but did he really? The moon that she and Talontooth first saw Nature's Mockery - that was what actually changed everything. Not the Woodcrawler she saw with Tree, and not the blizzard. He started growing aloof and more avoidant of her. When was the last time she actually went on a patrol with him? The fact that she couldn't remember upset her.

Is THAT what she wanted an apology for?

Shiverpaw sighed. She couldn't just hope that someone would know exactly what she wanted now. She didn't like the vulnerability. But she agreed to a mediation. If she didn't do something now, then what was the point of this mortifying endeavor?

"I know you want to apologize for the blizzard. But that's not the only thing I'm mad about. It's just…I felt like…" Shiverpaw felt heat swell up in her face in embarrassment and frustration.

Windfur's anxiety waiting for an answer must've boiled over. "Please. Please let me fix it," he mewed pathetically.

Shiverpaw burst. "If you wanted to fix it, why did you avoid me?"

Windfur's eyes widened for a split second.

"When's the last time you invited me on patrol? When's the last time you weren't actively trying to ignore me unless you had to teach me?" Shiverpaw failed to stop the words from pouring out. "Two moons into my apprenticeship, and my mentor starts avoiding me. Like I did something wrong, something to make you hate me." She hated that her voice cracked. "So of course I gave up after the storm. Why bother? I was a kid whose mentor shoved her into danger without help. How else was I supposed to interpret your actions? If you actually cared about me, why did you only start trying when you realized it made you look bad?"

Shiverpaw finally bit her tongue and suppressed a hiss. She was angry and upset and guilty, it was just tragedy after tragedy, and she felt like it was all her fault that Talontooth was -

The bottle exploded.

"I have to go," she blurted quickly before getting up and quickly distancing herself from the lonely corner, her heart filled with pain and anger. She didn't look back.

Only when she found a way to sneak out of camp and climb into a pine tree did she finally let herself wail.

---

When Olive returns and Shiverpaw is absent, she decided to help Windfur work through his feelings alone. The conversation does help Windfur decide what to do next, and he thanks her for it.

(Olive, mediator, female, 68 moons. Calm) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 26 moons. Lonesome.)

---

Windfur failed. He horribly, horribly, horribly failed. This was the worst possible way this could've unfolded, and Windfur felt like he may as well have been stabbed by a Woodcrawler. At least then, he could atone in a way that mattered.

But no. Moon after moon, he had one more failure to add to his ever-growing list of evidence for why he was the worst cat in ForestClan, and he would deserve it. A terrible cat who was mentored by a terrible mentor that nobody liked except for him - and he hated himself for still being unable to acknowledge her folly.

He was so caught up in his self loathing, staring at his paws with his tail thrashing that he didn't notice Olive padding back up to him.

The she-cat tilted her head at Shiverpaw's absence, but her eyes flickered with some expression of knowing. "Where's Shiverpaw?"

"...I don't know."

Olive's ear twitched, but her tail remained still, making her true thoughts unreadable. "What was said?"

Windfur was resistant to speak, but as Olive pointed out that she was here to mediate communications between cats, he defeatedly went through key points. When he finally said that Shiverpaw felt like he had ignored her for moons, he left Olive with silence. He felt like the most pathetic cat to ever exist.

Because she was right. He was scared of her. He grew paranoid of the idea of her being some sort of link with the Iris, due to her trances. StarClan never had an answer for him - until last moon, when they finally managed to confirm for certain that no, he had not doomed cat-kind by bringing her to StarClan, and no, he had not failed. But what good did that do now? Shiverpaw hated him and wouldn't ever forgive him for his actions. And why should she? He was a fraud of a medicine cat, failed Chicoryglint's expectations, failed to prevent Cloudthunder's two kits from being taken -

"Windfur." The tom felt Olive's tail rest on his shoulder gently. Her sage eyes were calm, filled with empathy. "...I see it in your eyes. You have a lot of thoughts in your mind, all of them dooming. I'm familiar with it too."

Windfur froze. He dug through his memories and remembered Olive spiralling and assuming catastrophe at every turn. He remembered that she refused to name Branchpaw and Perchpaw for almost three moons. "...It's not the same. You had Queen's Grief. You had a reason," he argued.

"An explanation is not an excuse. You already know that well." Olive let her statement settle on him before removing her tail and wrapping it around her paws. "...So. What now?"

Windfur sighed deeply. "I don't know. I guess I will give Shiverpaw her name next half-moon and let her be rid of me," he said glumly.

"Is that what she wants?"

Windfur scowled, his tail thrashing. "I don't know, alright? I just know that I've ignored her, hurt her, and an apology isn't enough. There's nothing I can do to fix that."

"Who taught you that you couldn't fix your mistakes?"

Windfur finally tore his eyes off the floor to glare at Olive. In a moment of vulnerability, his memories dug themselves out of their graves. He remembered being asked by Chicoryglint to watch very, very closely at what she did and to engrain it into his memory as though his life depended on it. He did so as she gave him melodies to memorize the procedure. He remembered the guilt he felt when he failed to retrieve cobwebs correctly. She was staring with wide-eyed terror and started counting the remaining bandages they owned. He remembered the small lives stolen by the Living Tendril. He couldn't bring himself to maintain it as he found a layer of sorrow in Olive's eyes.

"...I won't speak of others' grievances. But, I was reminded a few days ago how I didn't name my children for a few moons. I pretended they didn't need them. I knew it was wrong. But I was hurt and afraid. And I am telling you this," Olive emphasizes as she saw Windfur open his mouth to interrupt. "Because an apology won't fix it alone. Changed behavior, on the other hand, will. You said Shiverpaw was hurt that you ignored her. Did she tell you outright that she didn't want you to change?"

There was a tense silence as Windfur's dark blue eyes wavered. His jaw was clenched. Eventually, he shook his head.

"Then…what do you want to do?"

"...I want to apologize…and…I don't know. I guess…not…avoid her?"

"What are some things you can do to be present with her?"

"...More patrols together?"

"That's a good idea."

Windfur waited for Olive to continue, and felt tense when she just let that statement hang. "Do...you have any other ideas?"

Olive licked her paw and groomed her ear. "I'm not sure what Shiverpaw would like. You could ask her yourself what you could do together."

Windfur shuffled. "But...what if she doesn't want to?"

"She agreed to a mediation in the first place, no? Deep down, then, she likely also wishes for solutions."

Windfur kept staring at the floor pensively. After some time, Olive's tail twitched.

"Windfur. Can I offer you some advice, as a friend?"

Windfur suddenly looked surprised - as though the notion that Olive was his friend didn't even occur to him. "Uh...yeah, sure."

"I come from a place of kindness when I say this," she started carefully. "Perhaps you'll consider me a...what do you Clan cats say? A mousebrain? For saying so. But...you are the adult here. You may not feel like it, but Shiverpaw has known you her entire life as the fully-grown, adult medicine cat who gave her checkups, and then mentored her. The fact that you didn't feel like an adult when you took her on as an apprentice, does not mean that you weren't perceived as one by other cats."

Windfur's pelt bristled, but he said nothing as Olive continued.

"I will not ask how you ended up with the sole burden of caring for an entire group of cats. That's a conversation for another day, if you wish," Olive said with a flick of her tail. "But Shiverpaw speaks from the heart of a child who never received an apology. Give her that, and recognize that time, and changed behavior will repair your relationship."

Windfur paused, and forced his fur to fall flat. Eventually, he meowed, "...I understand. Thank you."

Olive shrugged. "I'm happy to be of service."

Finally, Windfur got to his feet, dismissed Olive with a nod, and walked away. In that time, Windfur allowed negative feelings and self-loathing to slowly leave his paws and into the wet grass beneath his feet. He allowed Olive's words to sink into his system. For a brief moment, he remembered when he went to Chicoryglint's so-called grave last leaf-fall. He remembered how he begged her for answers, guidance, anything. The silence that followed. The realization that he was never going to get an apology from her.

Windfur closed his eyes, and sighed.

...He was never going to be able to reconcile that his beloved mentor had hurt others deeply. And even if he knew the truth, he couldn't separate the kind mentor from the cowardly and selfish molly. That was his friend. His teacher. The melodies she taught him were ingrained in his bones. They would turn to vile ash in his mouth. He just couldn't embrace that truth. Not yet.

But at least today, he could give Shiverpaw what he knew Chicoryglint would never give him.

---

The next day, Windfur offers a genuine apology, acknowledging how his distance hurt Shiverpaw and promising changed behavior. While Shiverpaw says that it will take time to forgive him, she appreciates his apology and is wiling to put in effort to have a more cordial relationship.

(Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 12 moons. Loving.) (Windfur, medicine cat, female, 26 moons. Lonesome.)

Riversnow has a long conversation with Olive, and finds that they have a lot in common - outsiders with former apprehension to the Clan, pregnant at inopportune times. Riversnow seeks advice and comfort from her.

(Olive, mediator, female, 68 moons. Calm.) (Riversnow, warrior, female, 61 moons. Adventurous.)

Windfur approaches Redstar and tries to tell her about Bracken. Redstar promises to tell patrols to keep an eye out, and to try to invite her into the Clan again, if possible.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 26 moons. Lonesome.) (Redstar, leader, female, 70 moons. Strict.)

At the next half-moon, Talontooth visits Shiverpaw. She breaks down and apologizes, to which Talontooth responds with teasing and reassurance. He says that he's okay...well, as okay as he can be. But he gets to see how vast the territory actually is from StarClan, and it's beautiful. He sheepishly asks if she could tell Morningspot that he's okay. Shiverpaw agrees. It's the least she can do.

(Talontooth, male, StarClan cat. 16 moons. Adventurous) (Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 12 moons. Loving.)

#warrior cats #clangen #warrior cats clangen #clan generator #forestclan #forestclan moons #warriors cats #Windfur #Olive #Shiverpaw #Talontooth #Riversnow #Redstar #pixel art #wc oc #clangen art

117 notes · View notes

yanoverload · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere Incubus

I hope the company he is named after doesn't sue me LOL

I wuv him very much ok

Supernatural beings have always been in touch with humanity, but the meetings were so sparse many didn't even believe it.

That is until recently. Supernatural entities started to get in contact with the people out of nowhere, and no one can comprehend why.

The only ones that anticipated this were those in the path of sorcery and witchcraft. Humans that forgot what makes them human for the path of energy harvesting and spells.

Witches have always had good relations with the unknown, which give them the title of evil, or demonic. When it was the contrary. Witches keep them at bay to protect those not of the path.

One example is succubus and incubus. When one is brought to life, their first meal is recommended to be with a witch, a human that can withstand their soul draining. The witch teaches them everything they need to know to go their merry way, and if push comes to shove, help the demon again so no human has to die. A commensalism of sorts.

You were one of those witches. However, you seem to be in a bit of a predicament.

The first incubus you ever helped seemed normal, and went their way after the deed was done, only to return to your house a few days later.

And again, and again, and again.

The books never taught you what to do about this situation. These types of demons were very independent apart from their feeding necessities, so why keep coming back just to keep staring at you? Weirdo.

You thought of exorcising him before, asking a more experient witch what to do but....

"Master, have this! It's from my latest vict- I mean human! I stole got this watch from them! Can you make me your familiar now?~"

Is that a gold watch full of diamonds around it?!!!

Well.... You suppose he can stay a bit longer.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You decided to call him Ramune, because he always seemed to hunt the drink from your fridge. You can shake the bottle and he will show up from miles away just like you would a cat.

His blood is a dark purple, almost black.

He has a few tattoos in his body, including a womb tattoo. They light up in the dark.

Wears girl clothes all the time.

Obsessed with anything grape flavoured. Only human food he eats.

Asks you to do his braids when he comes by.

Has a pear like body. All hips and ass, almost no boob.

His ears can twitch, along with his wings and tail.

You saw his nails cut through metal once. You still have nightmares of what he could do if he decided to scratch your back in your....intimate moments.

Really wants to be your familiar, even though demons cannot be a witch's familiar.

An utter and complete brat.

The tag on his choker has your preferred title (Sir, Mistress, Daddy, Mommy, etc)

Gives you gifts from his victims. He's very popular with the rich it seems.

Height: 168 cm (5’6 feet)

Would make a porn account if you ask. Or even a dark web one to do....you know.

He fake tans and has bikini marks... Yup.

#oc intro #yandere oc #yandere art #sub yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere incubus #yandere boyfriend

175 notes · View notes

coralinnii · 2 years ago

Text

❋ You said what now? ❋

↳ He accidentally found out your feelings

feat: Ruggie ⭑ Chenya ⭑ Lilia ⭑ Epel

genre: fluff (uhh for the most part), humour,

note: no pronouns used with the reader, no explicit spoilers for book 7 in Lilia’s section, reader is referred as human in Lilia’s section, reader is implied to be a first year in Epel’s section, bad cat-related wording in Chenya’s section

Fun fact: while not obvious in the English translation, if you listen to Chenya’s Japanese voice lines, he likes to say “nya” at the end of his sentences.

Will I keep that fact in mind anytime Chenya pops up? Absolutely.

Also, I just started my college classes again last week (which is why I didn’t post last week). All of my classes are dense with text and quizzes so…I need to study real hard which will most likely eat up my time for writing. Good ol’ inconsistent me~

Although, I’m taking History and we focus a bit on the age of nobility and old kingdoms…so maybe some inspiration for my villain/ess!au series (or maybe not cuz history is weirder than one thinks…)

How it happened

Perhaps a little sneaky, Ruggie is someone reliable, resourceful, and fun to be around. You started to fall for him and even that sneaky side of his became endearing to you.

But bigger, financial priorities occupy the hyena beastman’s mind more than anything else. Unless he can make a madol from it or get a freebie, his interest in anything else is seemingly non-existent. It was rather easy to keep your feelings to yourself when the topic of love rarely, if ever, comes up.

So it came to a surprise to you when the shaggy-haired sophomore mentioned his coworkers at a part-time job he picked up in town.

He started ranting about how a duo at his workplace started an unlikely relationship a few days ago. According to him, the two were from two different worlds and didn’t appear to be either of their types.

“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” he mumbled, scratching his fluffy head by the sudden revelation at his job.

You nodded and hummed as he recounted his workday with you, but in all honesty, you didn’t share his confusion over the so-called sudden pairing. By the way Ruggie described the couple, it does sound like their personalities wouldn’t mesh well and would theoretically clash too much for anything to bloom between them.

But attraction follows no simple formula. No one can stop themselves from falling for someone. You yourself were an example.

“Love is never predictable, Ruggie.” you commented without thinking, perhaps too distracted by the cute love story of Ruggie’s coworkers or it could be that you’re drowning in the warm feelings from being so close to your crush that your mouth is running too comfortably on its own. “I mean, I never thought you were my type but I still ended up-“

You shut your mouth before you could finish but looking at the wide-eyed expression on Ruggie’s face, the effort was moot.

“You still ended up?”

…Shoot.

What happens now?

Colour him shocked. Ruggie never entertained the idea that you would like him, out of all people.

He could’ve pretended not to figure it out, or convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. But he knew when he saw your flustered embarrassment and your cute stuttering trying to come up with an excuse, there was no misunderstanding. You like him.

Ruggie has a good amount of ego and he wouldn’t downplay his boyish good looks (odds are it got him out of a few close calls), but in a school of celebrities, royalty, and guys with money coming out the wazoo? He knows when he’s outmatched.

To be honest, his brain froze for a moment at your slip up. He clutched his heart which stuttered out of beat, his ears and tail stood in attention like a meerkat. Jack was worried watching his upperclassman in such a daze while folding laundry, heck it even got Leona raising a brow over the uncharacteristic clocked out look on his shorter dormmate.

But, Ruggie is a workaholic hyena. Always planning his way to work up the ladder to earn some good madol. Even if he likes the idea of making a family of his own, romance wasn’t in his peripheral vision at the moment. Not while he’s working multiple jobs at once. He would honestly feel a little bad because he knows he’ll end up ignoring any poor soul stuck with him.

As bad as it is, he might at first think to pretend he heard nothing about your feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to make you go through that, to be in a relationship where work takes precedence over you.

But then he thought it wouldn’t be so bad…snuggling up to you during one of his rare free time. Maybe you’re the type to surprise him with lunch and he could rest on your lap while you brush his hair. Would you maybe rub his sore muscles after an arduous club training session? Having boyfriend privileges means no one can complain when he slides up to your side, keeping your attention to himself without having to share…

Screw it, he’ll figure something out. He’s a greedy hyena through and through

Shyeheehee! Better be ready for what you’re asking for. Once I’ve set my eyes on something, I’m not lettin’ it get away!

How it happened

This man is a literal magic trick, appearing and disappearing to revel in the shock of his unsuspecting audience. As elusive as he is, the times he does show up brings a shock of joy and excitement to you.

It seems that the purple-haired student has made it a habit to join the Heartslabyul’s unbirthday parties from time to time, enjoying the occasional chaos and keeping you company to your conflicted delight.

You didn’t know why but Chenya made it his mission to fluster you every chance he gets, with cheeky comments and sly touches as he leads you away from incoming mishaps such as a stray splash of paint or a flying slice of cake. You don’t know why but the cat-like menace has taken a shine to teasing you out of the blue. Sometimes he would suddenly whisper nonsensical riddles into your ear, or tap your shoulder to then poke your cheek as you turn. Small silly pranks that should annoy you but your body becomes filled with butterflies when he smiles that charming grin at you.

How maddening, you thought as you fell for another sneaky surprise from the impish beastman. Once again, Chenya appeared right behind you, smiling just over your shoulder which gave you and your friends a fright (for different reasons) to which he took pleasure in, judging from the mischievous grin on his lips.

Your shouting caught the attention of the other Heartslabyul students and recognizing the white jacket and castle emblem, their eyes boiled with competitive rage. An RSA student? On Night Raven territory?!

“Ah, looks like fun time is over. I’ll just show meowself out~” and like a mirage, Chenya’s figure disappeared as the NRC students failed to catch even a strand of his fur. Not even when he took a second longer to fade out just so he could teasingly tickle the tip of your nose with his fluffy striped tail.

The students kept on making a fuss, eager to teach the mischief maker a lesson for trespassing on rival territory. You sighed at the wasteful effort, assuming that Chenya would be smart enough to have left long ago.

“Why must my crush be such a frustrating person?” Angry hollers and Riddle’s commanding cease-and-desist orders overwhelmed your tired voice, and your soft words ended up softly carried off into the wind.

But your words caught the interest of a curious ear before it disappeared.

What happens now?

Curiouser and curiouser. He was not expecting such a confession. Though to be fair, he supposed you didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.

Chenya found joy being in your company. The shock in your bright eyes followed by your cute laugh sends a warm, giddy feeling in his heart that he just could not stop. He had a feeling he knew what these feelings could be but he was content with what he could get in the rare moments he can see you.

But now, when he realized what your cute reactions meant? That sends whole new exciting feelings within him. It’s fuzzy and warm as usual, but now also shocking and thrilling. The sneaky beastman is grinning for more than one reason now.

He won’t immediately confess back. Considering this wonderful predicament where you don’t know he knows of your affections, his playful nature compels him to milk the fun of this situation for all its worth.

If you thought his cheeky antics were bad enough, you haven’t seen his flirty side till now. Playful taps on the shoulders become sneaky grabs by the waist, and just when you think he’s gone, his signature grin would grace your vision as he fades into view, a little too close to your own face. Sometimes when he feels emboldened, Chenya would sweep you off your feet for a spontaneous walk along the sweet breeze.

When you’re finally at your wit’s end, when all his teasing and heart-fluttering gestures fills you to the point of combusting in flustered frustration, that’s when he’ll finally tell you his reciprocated feelings, perhaps while stealing a quick kiss when you least suspect it. All to see that terribly adorable look on your pretty face.

Every adventure requires a first step. I’m excited to see where we’ll go together from meow on~

How it happened

See, you thought he already knew. You swore he did. Why else would he tease you so much with his sweet compliments and flirty jokes? The mysterious senior spoke to you as though you were a naive child crushing on their older peer, which you supposed wasn’t entirely wrong.

The way he treated you with so much care and love that you wondered if he already suspected of your feelings and was being considerate to you. He listens to your rambles as though he has all the time in the world for you, compliments you on your achievements as though he’s genuinely proud of your hard work, and he jokes with you with that boyish charm of his. But the scarlet-eyed fae never pursued further with advances with you, which made you think that perhaps this was just who Lilia was, a strange but friendly man, unwilling to hurt your feelings. Were you grasping at straws and misconstruing his intentions?

With a heavy heart, you tried your best to give up your hopes but maintained a cordial bond with Lilia, not wanting to avoid the jovial fae so suddenly (well, without having to explain why anyways)

But one day, when you were walking with the smiling senior, he started talking about a souvenir shirt that Kalim had given him during their club meeting. It was a shirt patterned erratically with various colours and pictures of tiny bats littered about. It was an eccentric visual of fabric but it strangely fits the equally eccentric man.

“What are your thoughts? Would I not look absolutely adorable in this?” Lilia asked, holding the shirt in front in his uniform with a boyish smile, his fangs peeking out slightly. But you rolled your eyes as you sighed exasperated by this man’s antics.

“Don’t you think that’s unfair for you to ask me?” You looked at him with a pout, somewhat irritated at the mature fae you’re trying to get over. “Of course I’d said you would, considering how much I like you”

For a rare moment, Lilia turned wide-eyed at your words. “Pardon? Do you by chance… harbour feelings for me?”

Turns out, he didn’t know at all

What happens now?

Guess you can still surprise this old man. He had his suspicions but for all he knew that was how the youth were these days. He was fond of your shy expressions whenever he was around and he could hear the quickening of your heartbeat, but he didn’t want to assume. Perhaps you were just more on the skittish side.

In the centuries he lived, he saw love in many forms. In the recent centuries he lived, he got to experience some of those forms of love he’s seen, with the pain and joy that comes with it. To him, it couldn’t ask for more as he lives out the last few centuries he has left.

You however, were still vibrant like a freshly bloomed flower in its prime. Was that why he just couldn’t take his eyes off you? He couldn’t help but watch in admiration as you lived with almost enviable vigour. He felt pulled, entranced to be by your side for even just a moment, just to see that beautiful gleam of life (and love, he realized) in your eyes.

But Lilia felt a beat of guilt in his heart. Your life is so short in comparison to his own. You should be sharing your youth with someone as brilliant as yourself, not pining over an old soul like himself. Humans are fickle creatures but he supposed with such short lives, it’s best to be curious and experience all one can without regrets.

He would be honest with you, sharing his thoughts with you as though warning that your affections were better spent with someone that suited you better. It would be up to you to convince the stubborn fae that he was your choice, that you already decided he suited you just fine. All you’re asking from him is if he shared the same feelings as you did.

“I may have tried to get rid of my feelings before, but I’m choosing not to run away this time,” in your eyes, Lilia sees that same vibrant gleam that mesmerized him, almost breathing a new sense of life into him. “All I ask is if you feel the same way”

And he does. He’s lying to himself if he hasn't thought of a life with you where he could steal surprise kisses throughout the day, where he could bring you to soar through the night skies as he takes you to explore the world with him. He imagines a life of silliness but also a life of blissful content as he gazes at you like a beacon of light in his life, a new reason to live a bit longer.

Lilia feels ensnared by love once more, but the burning warmth in his soul is just too invigorating. He’s looking forward to this new chapter in his life, with you.

I do hope you’ve prepared yourself, my dear. Eternal love with a fae should not be taken lightly. But rest assured, I look forward to our new adventure

How it happened

You were Epel’s close friend and confidant, someone who he can share his achievements and woes with. Being so new to the college, the two of you depend on each other through thick or thin and along the way, you grew to see the lavender-haired freshman as more than just a companion.

He has a bit of a temper and is quick to the jump at times, but he was always there for you and even though he doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with them at times, he respects his seniors and takes their lessons to heart.

When he talks about how much he dislikes his height or his feminine features, you nodded along for his sake but you couldn’t tell him that you were actually in disagreement. You adore his fluffy locks that you occasionally got to touch with his permission and his light blue eyes felt like calming waves of the purest lake. Epel constantly swore to you that he’ll have his growth spurt and will even tower Leona in height, but you like how you could hold him close to you without issue.

You love all that he is, even if he’s not too keen on some parts himself

But you kept this all to yourself. You thought Epel had other priorities on his mind and you were scared that confessing would ruin the friendship you’d built with him. For now, you were content to be by his side for however long you can.

You were dead tired during a particularly harsh Flying class with Coach Vargas and you were barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open. It took everything you had to just nod along to whatever Epel was saying, something about some Savanaclaw students?

“Who they think they are, callin’ me cute like that? I outta rip off their yapper for underestimatin’ me.” You weren’t helping his point when you thought how cute his accent was as he grumbled about his day. You were falling in and out of consciousness but thought you should at least reply back to your friend…anything at all…

“I’m sorry…that happened…even though…I think…you’re really cute…”

You were already out cold to notice your friend frozen in place as you finished your drowsy comment, your head landing on his stiff shoulders.

What happens now?

ALDFIUAHLBWAIGLH

Congratulations, you broke your friend and you don’t even remember it. When you woke up, you couldn’t figure out why Epel was as bright red as his hometown’s apples. Epel couldn’t even bring it up without getting too tongue-tied, his accent sputtering out incomprehensible words.

The blue-eyed freshman was raking his brain for an explanation. You thought he was cute…really cute to be precise, but what does that mean? Did you like him? As in like-like him? Is it normal for non-countryside folk to just say something like that? But most students around here tend to mean it like an insult but you weren’t like them, you would never do that to him. So what did you mean by it??

Left without a choice, Epel thought about who he could ask about this, maybe one of his seniors. But he immediately reconsidered when he realized who his seniors were (Vil and Rook will never let this go and there’s no way Leona would entertain this conversation) and turned to the only adult he can trust, his meemaw.

In his letter, he asked his grandma what it means when someone you cherish calls you cute (not mentioning who) and after a few days of fidgeting and awkward encounters with very confused you, he finally got an answer from her.

“STOP SITTIN’ ON YOUR KEISTER TWIDDLIN’ ‘ER THUMBS! GO AND ASK, DAGNABBIT!”

And that’s how you were confronted by a flustered Epel about your cute comment one random school day. To be fair, you probably didn’t fare any better when you realized you let your thoughts slip out.

You may have confessed your attraction to him but Epel can still be the first to make the first move. Relationships and dating are all new to the petite freshman and honestly he felt a little weak in the knees, all the nerves wracking his body like his first broom ride. But the past few days, he couldn’t stop thinking about being with you, sweeping you off your feet, impressing you the only way he can, to have your eyes solely on him like he does when you’re around. Heck, he thought what it’d be like to grow old with you, holding you like no one else can as you spend day and night by each other’s side. All these thoughts and more is what spur him to take the next step.

I ain’t too great on love and romance, but I’ll work hard to show ya how much ya mean to me. I promise that!

2K notes · View notes