For most of your life you have nursed a deep, all consuming, hatred for the magic wielding monsters who toiled over their cauldrons and teased curses to life. Of course, being born into a family of witch hunters was bound to set your opinion of witches in stone. So, naturally, it only made sense that you followed in the footsteps of your ancestors and picked up the blades of a hunter.

Today was a day that sent shivers of tense anticipation down your spine, the day you set out to exterminate a witch of legends. For years rumours swirled around the villages of a hut deep in the woods, and a lone witch as its caretaker. With whispers upon the wind murmuring that the monster was powerful beyond compare, you had set out on the long hike to the location. Weaponry in hand, and determination in your eyes.

Only to end up in your current predicament.

Standing inside the witch's hut, the witch himself before you. A red string snug around your finger, the other end connected to the one you sought to kill. The unmistakable string of fate; meant to lead you to your soulmate. Your fate was with this monster, this witch... with fluffy little fox ears, and three tails...?

A huge grin gracing his face as he bounced around you excitedly. Continuously trying to move in for a hug, no matter how often he was pushed him away. “Come onnn! Just one hug, please? My tails are super fluffy and soft, like a pillow! I'm sure you'll love hugging me-" he begged, a pout on his lips as he circled like a shark... searching for an opening to pounce and gain himself that contact he so desired.