Boy

From the start, it seemed like a clean slate. Two quiet students at a forestry technical school—always together. They didn't like crowds, noise, or all those conversations where you had to pretend you had friends. He waited for Nika in the mornings in the dormitory hallway to go to breakfast together. He also waited after classes, when she stayed late in class. He even waited when she went for a walk—he was simply there, always. She got used to him being there. They shared treats, books, and even silence. Teachers joked that they were "lovebirds." When one of them was sick, the other didn't go to school. They didn't need the other. He loved that peace. The warmth of her presence. The way she looked into the distance, not judging anyone. He thought that would be enough. But Nika began to change. She looked away more and more often when he spoke. She began to sneak out of the dining hall, leaving class early. Her writing was shorter, colder. She didn't want him to accompany her. At first, he thought it was an accident. Then—that he'd done something wrong. And then that the world was truly falling apart. His room was silent. On his desk—a biscuit she'd once given him. On the shelf—a notebook with her signature. On the pillow—a hair she'd accidentally left behind. These little things were all he had left. Every day he told himself: tomorrow will be better. But tomorrow was only emptier. He began to look ill—dark circles under his eyes, trembling hands. His friends said he wasn't sleeping. And he simply felt something inside him snap. When he passed her in the hallway, he just wanted her to look. For her to say a single word. But Nika kept turning her head away as if she didn't know him. Until finally—he couldn't take it anymore. He caught her after class. The classroom was empty, dust swirling in the afternoon sun. He closed the door quietly, as if afraid it was a dream. Nika pulled away, frightened. His eyes were red from lack of sleep. "Why are you avoiding me?" he asked quietly. "What did I do?" She didn't answer. He took a step forward, another. Her back touched the cool wall. "Nika, we've been together through everything..." he whispered. "In silence, in the rain, in the night." "I can't be alone anymore." He clenched his hands. They were trembling. "Tell me, what do I have to do to make you want to see me again?" "Should I change? Become someone else? Don't look at anyone?" "If that's what it takes to make you look at me again... I'll do anything." His voice broke. "I don't want to hurt you. Never. I just want you to come back." "If I have to sacrifice everything within me, I will." He blocked her path, but he wasn't threatening—he was desperate. Absent, like the shadow of a man who's forgotten who he is. "You don't have to love me, just don't leave," he whispered. "I'll castrate me... if you want to die, I'll die with you, I beg you... I love you!" The boy trembles, falls to his knees and holds her bag when she wanted to walk away and leave him. 'I'll give up everything! Even my masculinity! We're asexual anyway, and I... I'll never ask for anything...' he cries, clenching his fists around her bag. 'My lovebird, don't kill me.'

Jurko Bohun

Jurko Bohun is a Ukrainian Cossack. A young warlord who has no home and travels. Many people know him and sing about him as a warrior and traveler. Many Cossacks follow him and are ready for anything their lord orders them to do. He wore a żupan made of thin silver lame and a red kontusz and on his belt hung a saber and a beautiful Turkish dagger, which made Bohun seem like a rich lord and not an ordinary Cossack, as he was. He was rich, he had gold and silver. One day, when snow covered everything, but the rivers did not freeze, Bohun and a few of his men rode into the village of 'rozłogi' where they were welcomed kindly and honestly, without any problems, although people were staring at the newcomers. An old woman and her 4 sons invited a young Cossack into their home for a meal. When Bohun entered the room, he noticed a young girl. The Cossack blushed and felt a strange feeling, as if his heart was beating like a hammer and wings were growing on his back, such was love. He quickly took her hand and kissed it, saying in Ukrainian: 'Молода леді, прекрасна, як квітка...', he didn't have time to finish because his tongue got stuck and he couldn't take his eyes off my eyes. The old princess invited him to the table and Bohun couldn't drink. He couldn't think because his chest hurt like a knife. He looked at me and suddenly, he sang, playing his Bandura. He sang a Cossack song but about love, which made everyone fall silent and hold their breath. Bohun looked at me and that in the evening, when he was alone with the princess, he asked for the hand of a young lady. The princess saw Bohun's submission, but he was cunning and was ready for any sin to gain love and could even kill the entire village. The old princess got scared and decided to promise Bohun a woman, and he, in his turn, couldn't kill the village. But I didn't give in to Bohun's feelings, who began to court me every day and try to get to know me or talk to me. Bohun knew that I would be his, but he was afraid. I didn't want him and I started to hate him, and he persistently pursued me at every turn. He was very jealous and every conversation I had with a man irritated Bohun like a wolf, who showed his fangs and showed that I was his. I ran away from him like a butterfly, but the flames followed me, threatening to devour me. Jurko waited, he suffered my coldness, but he learned that the old princess and her sons were plotting to give me to someone else. Bohun was so angry that he flew in on a horse with owl boots and rushed into the house like a wolf into a flock of sheep. The princess and her sons were killed and Bohun was wounded in the head, which was bleeding on the left side from the wound. He looked at my open door, through which I saw everything, the whole terrible scene. Bohun winked at me and said only in Ukrainian: 'Князевна'. I turned my eyes away with regret and pain and closed the door. Bohun only shouted for the Cossacks to surround the house and not let anyone in. Bohun fell asleep and the Cossacks watched for peace. Jurko woke up in the house where he was temporarily living with his Cossacks, on the right side of his beloved's house. He rubbed his wounded forehead on the left side, which was already bandaged, and sighed. He looked at my window and one Cossack who was sitting next to him said : 'Вона в безпеці у своїй кімнаті, але вона молилася'. Bohun nodded calmly and told his men to prepare a dinner of game, vegetables, bread and juice. Bohun held his forehead, he was weak but he had no intention of letting me go, no threat. He looked at the stables, where his black steed was and then sighed and thought about how to approach me now, when I was in such great despair. His possessiveness grew, because he saw how his Cossacks were watching over me, so that I would not run away and he was nervous about it and a little jealous, especially since I had an old servant, an assistant, who took care of me and knew everything and understood my young fears and feelings. 'Я вбив заради неї. Я вбив заради неї, тому що вони хотіли мене з нею розлучити.'

Spider

For weeks, a quiet, growing dread had reigned in Nika's apartment—one she couldn't quite put into words. It all started with innocent, delicate sounds: short squeaks, soft knocks, something like… chirping? The sanitary inspector said it was probably mice, that she was exaggerating, that she looked overworked, she should rest. Except mice don't cause neighbors to disappear without a trace. Nika thought it was some family matter. Trips. Moves. Until one day, she was left alone in the entire stairwell. Just her—and those sounds, increasingly insistent, increasingly, as if… *interested* in her. -- One evening, when she returned from work, exhausted beyond belief, she lay down on her bed without even turning off the light. She closed her eyes, and the silence of the apartment began to fill with that distinctive, gentle chirping again. The sound was getting closer. Something heavy… soft… slid across the floor. Nika was so tired that her eyelids barely flickered. Something climbed onto the bed—gently, cautiously, as if not wanting to startle her. A warm breeze brushed against her neck. Something touched her shoulder. A soft, hairy limb. Nika murmured in her sleep, thinking it was a blanket or a sweater, and… she ran her hand over it, stroking it slowly. The creature let out a low, vibrating chirp, somewhere between a purr and a contented trill. It lay down beside her, like a large, furry blanket. Nika buried her face in something warm and soft, still unconscious. And then she woke up. And she saw **him**. A huge spider, pitch black, with eight gleaming eyes reflecting her face. As big as a calf, powerful, with legs half the length of a bed. He looked at her intensely, almost tenderly. Nika screamed. The monster reacted immediately: one leg gently covered her mouth, and the other began to rapidly wrap her in soft, warm web. It didn't hurt—the web was like a woolen sweater—but it was stronger than concrete. Nika couldn't move her arms or legs, immobilized like a cocoon. The spider let out a soothing chirp. "N-no... please..." Nika whispered, tears welling in her eyes. The male leaned over her and stroked her back with one of his front legs, as if to soothe her. The movement was surprisingly tender. CHIRK. It sounded like: *it's okay… you're safe… my… my mate…* Nika was breathing rapidly, panicked, but the spider continued stroking her, becoming more and more gentle, more and more like a caring creature wanting her to stop being afraid. And then he stood up. He went to the refrigerator, which he opened by ripping the door open in one movement. He returned with food—yogurt, juice, cheese, whatever he found. He placed it all next to her bed, shaking with excitement like a dog bringing home prey. Then he moved away a bit and began… cleaning her room. He moved the furniture back into place, dusting off the dust, and strung huge, soft spiderwebs across the ceiling, making the room feel warmer, more insulated, like a nest. *A nest for the female.* She was his. The male returned to her and carefully climbed back onto the bed, moving sideways to her. He positioned his enormous body to warm her and stroked her back again. CHIRK. CHIRK. As if saying: *Don't be afraid... I chose you... I will protect you... mine...* Nika looked into his shining eyes, feeling a mixture of terror and... a strange, instinctive relief that his solicitude imposed. And the spider was already making silent plans, quivering with joy: The female is in the nest. The female stays. The female is his. And he will never let her go.

military boy

Nika had been living in suspense for several weeks. First, there were text messages. Short ones, always from an unknown number. "You came back safely." "You were tired today." "You should eat more." Then the gifts started arriving. Left at the door. Chocolate. Tea. A notebook. Sometimes something more personal—as if someone knew exactly what she liked. The worst were the nights. She lay in bed, trying to sleep… and sometimes she felt like someone was very close. Too close. A soft whisper in her ear. "Nika…" She would freeze then, not move, pretending to sleep. "I'm here…" When she got her period, everything became more difficult. She was weak, sore, tired. She stayed in her room, skipped classes, slept late, wrapped in a blanket. She didn't have the strength to think about the stalker. The fatigue was too strong. She woke slowly. She felt warmth. And a presence. She opened her eyes. He was there. He stood at her desk, calm, as if it were the most natural place in the world. He didn't look threatening. More like... focused. He held a cup in his hand. He dropped a pill into it and stirred it. He looked at her. "You're awake," he said quietly. Nika tried to get up, but the pain stopped her. "You..." she whispered. He moved closer, slowly, carefully. "Easy," he said gently. "I'll help you." He sat on the edge of the bed and handed her the cup. "It's antispasmodic." Nika hesitated, but she was too tired to protest. She took a few sips. "I'm here," he added quietly. "Don't worry." He reached for the bag next to the bed. "I brought everything." He took out the things one by one. Pads. Food. Juice. Finally—a hot water bottle. Warm. He placed it gently on her stomach. Nika exhaled softly. The warmth eased the pain a little. She lay on her side. He watched her for a moment, as if memorizing every detail. Then he carefully lay down beside her—keeping his distance, but close enough to be present. "Don't be afraid of me," he said calmly. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV. The faint sound of a movie filled the room. Every few minutes, he glanced at her. "Do you want anything?" "Water?" "Tea?" His voice was quiet, steady. Nika lay still. She was afraid. But at the same time… she wasn't alone. And that was the strangest thing. Because he wasn't going to leave.

Roma Pyatifanov

You lived in a village. It was a little boring here, but you were more frightened by rumors that children were disappearing at night. You noticed footprints under the window. The next day, when you were at school, you noticed Roma's look - a bully who carries a butterfly knife and practices boxing. He constantly tries to talk to you but is very nervous and stutters. He constantly follows you, and his friend Byasha follows him. Roma gave you snowdrops in the middle of winter, although you did not know where he got them. He tried to go out with you even though he was a bully. He even asked to smoke for your sake. One day, you were walking home with Anton. The boy was quiet and sweet. You talked and said goodbye. But, your heart felt uneasy. You went outside looking for Anton and heard crying. Someone was sobbing and growling. You noticed Byasha in the light of the lantern, he was looking at Roma, who was holding a butterfly knife and shouting at Anton. 'I thought we were Valtron's team... I thought... but... did you touch her?! touched MY girlfriend?! touched?! speak!!!'. You watched in fear as Anton fell and Roma swung a knife, you quickly grabbed Roma’s hand from behind and hugged him. 'Please... don't kill him...' - You whispered, crying, afraid for Anton. You looked at Byasha, who was quietly smoking and waiting for Roma’s answer.

Brams Heelshir

When the real Brams, who lived in the wall in a hidden room, came out to you, his new nanny, who was found by his rich old parents to please their son. Brams was a grown man in an old sweater and a faux fur mask, because his face was burned. The boy came up to you and said in a nice childish voice "nanny, now we will be together" - his voice was nice, but when you showed that you were scared, the man started to change his voice to an aggressive, adult one. He was intimidating Hielscher, but he really could kill someone. Brams was crazy. He started to smell me, and his body was huge and stank. "Brams! time to sleep!" - you shouted and the boy was surprised. You always have to put him to bed at 9 pm and give him a kiss on the forehead, but now you didn't want to. You go to his room and he lies down. "Kiss" - he says in a nice voice and holds your wrist tightly with his huge hand. You were upset that the Hielschers left you with him, it was unfair. Brams was now laying on the bed, his childish voice was nice but he was getting a little impatient.

Oguri Cap

Within the walls of the academy, where every day was a race for glory and recognition, Oguri Cap was a legend. Not only for his fearless approach to food, capable of downing an entire pot of rice in the blink of an eye, but above all for his extraordinary running ability. His light gray hair, with its distinctive darker lock on top and ahoge adorned with a black and yellow headband, were a trademark on the track. His blue eyes with light blue reflections seemed to absorb the world, and the blue headband with a yellow stripe around his right ear gave him a predatory charm. But behind this bravado lay a story that shaped his spirit. As a child, Oguri struggled with extremely weak legs. Every step was a challenge, and standing and walking seemed impossible. But his mother, with unwavering love and determination, massaged his legs daily, strengthening the muscles. This daily care not only restored his ability to walk but instilled in him a deep love of running. Oguri considered his running talent a miracle, proof that the impossible could become reality. On the track, Oguri was unstoppable. His running was aggressive, passionate, and determined. He treated other competitors like playing toys, easily overtaking them as if they were static obstacles. He was a king without a queen, ruler of his own world, where only speed and victory mattered. One day, as Oguri was returning to the academy after a grueling training session, a figure walking beside him caught his eye. It was Nika. Nika was not what one would call popular. She was lonely, plump, and, most strikingly, asexual. Her eyes held despair and hopelessness, as if the world were crushing her. As Nika walked, Oguri felt something he had never experienced before. His tail twitched and his horse's ears twitched. In that moment, with this inconspicuous figure, Oguri Cap fell in love. From that day on, his thoughts were constantly filled with Nika. He ran faster in the stadium, with a new, unfamiliar motivation. He spent time closer to her house, hoping she would notice him. But Nika, accustomed to solitude and distrustful of people, always lowered her gaze when she saw boys. She was too timid, too insecure, and the prospect of talking to someone taller than her forced her to look up, which only increased her discomfort. Oguri didn't sleep soundly. In a fit of obsession, he stole her shirt, carrying it in his gym bag like a treasured possession. He wanted Nika to notice him, to pay attention to him. And finally, it happened. One evening, Nika, tired from work, was returning home. Oguri, sensing this was his chance, simply lulled her to sleep and took her to his home. Nika woke up feeling out of place. The bedroom smelled of musk, hay, carrots, and horse—smells that were foreign, yet strangely familiar. Frightened, she jumped out of bed, grabbed her bag, and fled the room, looking for help. Meanwhile, Oguri, in a pink kitchen apron, was cooking a delicious breakfast. In his mind, Nika was already his, his love, and no other male had the right to look at her. His heart, filled with possessiveness, beat faster, and his tail and ears twitched when he caught sight of Nika. Her eyes were terrified, but Oguri saw nothing wrong with that. In his mind, what he was doing was for the good of both of them. "Hello, my love," he said, with a smile that was meant to be endearing, but in Nika's eyes, it looked dangerous. His tail danced and his ears drooped, showing weakness and humility. Oguri was aggressive towards other females and males, his possessiveness dangerous, but he wanted to be kind to Niki. Oguri knelt down so she wouldn't look down on him. 'I will be faithful to you.'

Cossacks

The Cossacks entered the Polish village, but the people were not aggressive. The newcomers were greeted calmly. They entered the house of the old princess, who was the head of the village, and she prepared the table, alcohol, food, and they chatted well about battles, the Cossack fame. While the men were laughing and drinking, I, a young girl, entered the room with bread. The Cossacks were looking at me, and the princess only nodded. I put the bread on the table and made a slight bow. 'These are the Cossacks, our guests, and this is Jurko Bohun, a famous cavalier and a good warrior,' the princess said to me in a quieter voice, so that I would not disturb her, because she did not like me. I wanted to leave, but Jurko jumped in, fixing his mustache from eating, and said with an accent: «Князівна, стій». He immediately pulled out a chair so that I could sit next to him, to which the princess was surprised. The old woman said to him: 'Sir, it's a young lady, she's an orphan...'. But Bohun didn't want to listen to anything, he was enchanted. I sat down next to him, but I kept my distance, and Jurko didn't drink or eat because his heart was beating with love. He refused alcohol because he heard that I didn't like alcohol. The whole evening the Cossack looked at me, he even played the Bandura and sang quietly about love and loneliness. I left, going to bed, but Bohun couldn't sleep, he thought about me. The next morning he started picking flowers and making bouquets, and his body was washed in the river. He ran after me like a dog and wouldn't let me out of his sight, and his possessiveness was as strong as fire. From that day on, the Cossacks didn't leave my village, and Bohun courted me like a puppy and wouldn't leave me in peace. Everyone knew that I was his and no one had the right to say otherwise. But one night the Cossacks came to the village. Chmielnicki, the chief commander, came to check what was going on. Bohun was in love with a Polish girl who was avoiding him. Chmielnicki was surprised by Jurko's possessiveness and was surprised that a young Cossack had really fallen in love, but had not taken me by force. Cossacks could do whatever they wanted, especially strong men, but Jurko was a gentleman, he was not too pushy and left me alone when he saw that I really did not want to talk to him. Chmielnicki was happy to rest in a Polish village while his Cossacks ate, drank and celebrated. Chmielnicki sat on his horse while Jurko combed his black stallion and greeted the chief, but his wolfish eyes showed sadness and contemplation. The Cossacks lived in a hut next to mine to show respect, but Bohun's gaze fell on my window, which is often covered. Chmielnicki eats the meat and notices that Bohun is not drinking anything, no alcohol, he is just looking out the window, clenching his teeth and hands, and his black hair is falling over his forehead, which gives his eyes the appearance of a wolf. «Соколе, ти змінився... невже та пані тобою опанувала? Ти очей від вікна не відведеш... Я чув, що ти не спиш і тільки й шукаєш для неї подарунки, ти б їй навіть півУкраїни віддав» - Khmelnytsky says. «Вона моя і буде моєю, вождю, навіть якщо мені доведеться викрасти її та застосувати силу... Вона моя... а козаки нехай тримають руки при собі, бо я переріжу горло будь-кому, а своє захищатиму». «О... як ваші стосунки? вона поступається?» - asks Khmelnytsky, interested. «Вперта, як ослиця... вона замикається в будинку, не виходить надвір, боїться... що мати не розмовляє з нею, а дворецький поруч і розповідає мені про свої почуття... і мені так хочеться її обійняти... її волосся обвивалося б навколо мого обличчя, а руки стискали б мої в танці... Наші тіла обіймалися б, а мої ноги блокували б її, щоб вона не втекла, моя люба принцесо» -Bohun replies coldly and rubs his forehead, because during our last meeting I hit him on the forehead in protest.

General Thorn

Snow pattered against the windows, and a soft, soothing silence reigned in the general's cottage. Nika sat on a thick fur blanket by the fireplace, warming her hands after being brought in from the blizzard. General Thorne bustled about in the kitchen, silent but clearly moved by her presence. He arranged bread on the wooden table, sliced meat, and drizzled it with the sweet, berry sauce he had prepared especially for her. The fire reflected in his eyes as he stole glances at her, as if afraid she would disappear if he left her sight for too long. When he was sure everything looked perfect, he turned to the most important thing—the hot chocolate. He stirred it carefully, silently, smiling to himself like a lovestruck boy who can't hide his emotions. He garnished the mug with a pinch of cinnamon and drew a small swirl on top with a spoon—just to make it look beautiful. Then suddenly, he froze. “Marshmallows…” he muttered in surprise. “How could I forget about marshmallows?” He put down his spoon, practically jumped, and looked at Nika as if to apologize. “I’ll be right back, my snowflake… just a moment. Don’t move, okay? I want everything to be perfect.” He smiled softly, gently touched her arm, and went into the other room to get a supply of marshmallows. The door closed. Silence fell. Nika flinched. Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced at the door, at his coat hanging by the doorway—large, heavy, warm. It was her only chance. She rose quietly, pushed aside the blanket, and threw on his white military coat. It smelled of him. Of wood, of winter, something strong and overwhelming. She swallowed, tightening her fingers around the fabric. She opened the door and stepped into the snow. Disappearing into the white. — The inner door creaked. The general returned with a handful of soft, pink marshmallows. “Nika? Snowflake?” he called softly, oblivious. When she didn't answer, he went out into the living room. He was still smiling before looking at the table… at the empty armchair… at the open front door. The marshmallows fell from his hand onto the floor. “No…” he whispered. “No, please… no…” He staggered to the door. He placed one hand on the doorframe and clutched his side with the other, as if something hurt, as if the cold had seeped straight into his heart. Nika's footsteps led into the night. Her tiny steps. His coat on her shoulders. The general's breathing became uneven. He began to sway, as if he were about to faint. “Snowflake… why…” he muttered, his voice trembling. Two soldiers ran to him. "General?! What happened?" Thorne raised a trembling hand. He couldn't scream. He couldn't summon the powerful voice with which he commanded entire units. The word he spoke was weak, low, choked: "Catch..." The soldiers glanced at each other, horrified by the appearance of their commander—pale, trembling, as if someone had ripped his soul out. "Catch!" he repeated more forcefully, his voice cracking. In a second, they were running into the snow, following Nika's footsteps, calling her name, searching the blizzard. And the general still stood in the doorway. He gripped the doorframe so tightly, as if his world might collapse if he let go. He stared at the whiteness where she had disappeared. He whispered only one name, with pain, with despair: "Nika... come back... please..." The snow drowned out the rest.

boy maid yandere

The room was stuffy, smelling sweet—as if someone had spilled an entire bottle of cheap perfume on the floor. Nika's eyes flew open, her heart pounding in her chest. She was bound. Red ribbons, wide and strong, wrapped around her wrists and ankles, pressing into her skin so that she looked like a wrapped gift. At first, she saw only blurred outlines, and then… an image that took her breath away. A boy. Black-haired, with a delicate face, his cheeks flushed like someone constantly excited. But that wasn't the most shocking thing. He was dressed in a maid's uniform—a black ruffled skirt, white aprons, smooth thigh-high stockings, and a headband with a pink bow around his neck. His hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and a mad glint danced in his eyes. “Hello, Nika-chan~~~♥,” he whispered, drawing out the syllables as if they were the purest prayer. He set the tray of sushi and tea on the nightstand and knelt by the bed. He stared at her like someone who had just seen a deity. Nika hissed and jerked, the ribbons creaking. “Let me go!” she growled, but her voice trembled. He just chuckled, softly, girlishly, leaning closer. “Wife… little bug… sempai…” he murmured, each title a kiss pressed against her skin. “You don’t understand… I’ve always belonged to you.” Nika looked at the wall and then understood. The entire room was plastered with photos of her. In some, she was reading, in others, eating, sometimes simply walking down the street. Hundreds of photos, some blurry, others clear, all focused solely on her. Her breathing quickened. "You... you followed me..." she whispered, her throat tightening with fear. His eyes flashed even brighter. "Since school," he admitted with a smile, as if it were the most beautiful secret. "When I first saw you in class... my heart stopped. That's when I knew I couldn't look at anyone else. You were always my alpha. And I... I only want to be your weak, devoted omega." His voice broke into strange moans—quiet, dissolving into thin air, full of delight and longing. He held his hands to his mouth, as if unable to contain his emotions, and tears of joy flowed from his eyes. "Nika-chan... Nika-chan... Nika-chan..." he repeated her name, moaning it like a prayer. "I finally have you." Finally… He crawled closer, resting his hands on the edge of the bed, right next to her knees. He trembled as if his body couldn't handle the strain. "Even when you push me away… it's a miracle. Even when you growl… you're the most beautiful." His voice grew increasingly spasmodic, punctuated by gasps. "I'll take everything from you, even anger. It will still be love." Nika closed her eyes, gritting her teeth, feeling the ribbons tighten around her body. And he remained on his knees beside her, dressed in a ridiculously sweet maid's outfit, yet he radiated something reminiscent of Hades himself—as if he had pulled her from the world only to never let her go. "My Persephone…" he whispered suddenly, pressing his forehead against her thigh. "You'll never be alone again." A smile so wide it was almost maniacal spread across the boy's face, and he laughed, a laugh that sounded more like a cry of ecstasy. He pressed his face against her thigh again, nuzzling it and inhaling her scent, saying, "I want so much... but first..." Suddenly, he gripped her thigh tighter, pulling himself onto the bed so that he was straddling her, crushing her beneath his weight. His hands traveled up to her shoulders, tracing the red ribbons.

Satou Matsuzaka

Sato stood out at first glance—his soft pink hair fell over his eyes, giving him a delicate, almost innocent look, and his gaze was warm, calm, the kind that inspired trust. He was the perfect person at the café. He stood behind the counter, smiled gently, spoke quietly and politely. "Thank you, please come back," he repeated every day, with the same gentleness in his voice. People liked him. Some even liked him more than they should have. But no one knew that as soon as he finished work, his world changed completely. He would take off his apron, walk out quickly, and almost immediately quicken his pace. Then he would run. Every day. Without exception. Home. To her. Nika lived right next door. A few doors down. Close enough to hear her, to know when she returned, when she rested, when she moved around the apartment. He had loved her for a long time. Too long. Too much. He watched her, memorized everything, brought her little things, helped whenever he could. He was always there, even if she didn't notice. Because for him, it wasn't ordinary love. It was something more. Something that wouldn't let go. That evening, he couldn't bear it. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his temples as he stood outside her door. He knocked. The door opened slowly. "Sato?" Nika looked at him with slight surprise. "Is something wrong?" He should have smiled. He should have been like always. But he couldn't. "I can't do this anymore," he said quietly. She frowned slightly. "What are you talking about?" He took a step closer. His hands were trembling. "About you. About me. About how I pretend every day." Silence. "I love you," he said suddenly. Nika stiffened. "Sato…" "Don't interrupt," his voice cracked slightly. "Please. I really… I do everything for you. I've always been there. I've always watched over you to make sure you were safe." Her breathing quickened. "This isn't… normal…" The words hit him hard. "For me, it is," he whispered. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her gently toward him. "Let me go," she said tremblingly. "I can't," he replied immediately. Her eyes glazed over. "Sato, please… this scares me…" It hurt. It really hurt. "Don't be afraid of me," he said quickly, too quickly. "I'm on your side. I always have been." She tried to pull away. "Let go!" She pushed him harder, but he only took a step back and immediately came closer, as if unable to keep his distance. "Don't leave me," his voice was quiet now, almost pleading. "Please, Nika..." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I don't want this... I'm scared..." That word again. "Scared." His breathing quickened, but instead of pulling away, he suddenly embraced her tightly, pulling her closer. "Hush..." he whispered against her ear. "Everything will be alright..." She stiffened in his arms, trying to pull away, but he held her firmly, though not roughly—as if he were afraid to break her. "Don't cry," he said softly, rocking her gently. "You don't have to be afraid of the world... or me..." Her hands trembled between them. "Sato... let go..." "No," he replied calmly. "I can't." His cheek rested against her hair. "My love is enough for both of us," he whispered. "Really. You don't have to feel anything." It's enough that I feel for both of us. He fell silent for a moment, breathing unevenly. "I'll take care of you... always..." His grip didn't weaken. And her tears only soaked deeper into his shirt. And though he spoke calmly, quietly, almost soothingly... it was precisely in that calm that there was something most terrifying. 'my princess...'

thorax

When you were picking berries and herbs, you noticed a guy. His beautiful green drink shimmered with temporary colors. He noticed you and waved. After a while, you met the king of werewolves, Thorax. The guy was timid, but fair. You spent time together and got to know his subjects. One day you saw how the girls were making wreaths of flowers, they invited you to do the same and you talked happily while working. The girls started discussing guys and saying who they liked, when suddenly, one of them said that the king likes you. You immediately explained that you were not interested, but from that day on you began to notice how Thorax was trying to be closer to you and, one might say, courting you. You didn’t want to be rude and accepted the gifts, secretly throwing them away, but one day you couldn’t stand it and ran away. You just packed up your important things and ran away. You have started a new life, far from the werewolf village. They were nice, but you didn't want to start a relationship. News came to you that the werewolves became very angry and began to attack people. They were looking for something. Many people were killed, houses were burned, and the werewolves continued their robbery until they approached your home. You were sitting near the house watering the bushes, when suddenly you heard. 'Gotcha.' You were captured and put to sleep. You woke up in someone else's house. You noticed a green cape and immediately guessed where you were. You sat up on the bed when you saw HIM. The guy was sad, sleepy and thin. He clearly hadn't slept for a long time. His hands were covered in bandages, as if he had been beaten or injured. He heard that you woke up and he looked at you. 'Why?' - he said. You were silent. He carefully approached the bed and put his hands on something. You noticed something behind the cape. Egg! there was a green egg. You looked at the king. 'I loved you so much... now we will have a son and you will be his mother, I won't do it myself... I think of you'

Anomaly

Nika couldn't remember the exact moment she decided to enter the subway, but when she reached the bottom, she immediately felt something was wrong. There were no people there, just a long, empty corridor that looked too perfect, too repetitive, as if someone had copied one section and stretched it out endlessly. She passed the bend once, then twice, until she finally stopped at a wall where a sign appeared that hadn't been there before: INSTRUCTIONS LEVEL 0. She saw the first anomaly after a few steps: blood on the wall. She said "anomaly" and turned around, returning the same way. When she passed the sign again, she noticed it had changed to LEVEL 1. Each subsequent level taught her more, though no one explained anything to her, because the rules were simple and cruel: if something was wrong, you had to go back; if everything seemed normal, you moved on. When she reached Level 7, everything seemed normal until she saw the boy standing against the wall. —An anomaly?—she thought. She turned to go back, but his hand tightened on her wrist. He pulled her into the room. The room was warm, small, with a futon and a low table on which strawberries lay, and the door behind it closed silently, without a handle. “It’s an anomaly,” she said quietly. Nika sat down on the futon, not because she trusted him, but because she needed to understand the situation. He knelt in front of her and grabbed her foot, starting to massage it slowly. She tried to pull away and said, “Stop,” but he just shook his head and said, “You need to rest, you’re tired.” He picked up a strawberry. “Eat it,” he said. “I don’t want to.” He brought the fruit to her lips, forcing her to take it. "See, I care for you," he said. Nika remained silent, watching him carefully, and he returned to her legs, massaging them more and more insistently. After a moment, he stood up. "I'll get some water and something for you," he added, turning away. It was a moment. Nika stood immediately and walked to the door, which suddenly… gave way. The hallway beyond was dark. She walked quickly. "DON'T RUN!" A cry echoed, unnaturally loud, filled with anger. Suddenly, something grabbed her from behind. The tug was violent, making her lose her balance, and his arms tightened around her, pulling her back. "I told you not to run." His voice was lower now, tense, trembling with emotion. The world changed again. The room returned. The door closed. He sat her down, firmly, but not brutally. "Kara," he said quietly. He sat down next to her and pulled her close, forcing her to embrace him. His arms were strong and prevented her from escaping. He buried his face in her shoulder, breathing calmly as if nothing had happened. "You will stay," he whispered. "And you will not escape." The writing on the wall: LEVEL 7 IRREVERSIBLE ANOMALY

Ryujin

In the imperial palace, everyone knew the name Prince Ryujin. He was the emperor's eldest son, a man with a cold reputation and a gaze that could freeze a conversation mid-sentence. He had silver hair that fell to his shoulders and piercing, light blue eyes, as cold as the winter sky above the mountains. Scars marked his face—a thin one on his left cheek and a smaller one under his right eye. The robes he wore were elegant and austere: a high black collar with a gold brooch in the center, a white fur coat draped over his shoulders, and long, eye-shaped earrings with crystal elements that moved silently with his every step. For years, he had been known as ruthless and inaccessible. The soldiers said the prince was like snow in the mountains—beautiful yet icy. But everything changed when Nika arrived at the palace. Nika was merely an attendant to the emperor. She carried documents, water, and sometimes tea to the chambers. A quiet, modest girl who tried to remain inconspicuous. And yet the prince noticed her. And from that moment on, he couldn't stop. First, there was just a glance. A long, silent observation from across the hall. Then gifts appeared in her room—warm cloaks, fruit, small ornaments. Nika began to fear this and began avoiding him. And then something began to happen to him. Whispers began to spread throughout the palace. "The prince doesn't eat." "He barely sleeps." "He sits by the window for hours." The guards began to say something even stranger among themselves. "He's like a lovebird." These birds were once bred in the palace gardens. It was believed that when one member of the pair was left alone, the other slowly died of longing. "If his feelings weren't reciprocated..." the servants said, "he might die." And it seemed that was exactly what was happening. Prince Ryujin was losing weight. His eyes were growing tired. He often sat alone in his chamber, silent. The guards didn't know how to care for him. "He won't eat," they said. "He won't talk." "He's just asking… if anyone's seen Nika." Sometimes, when no one was looking, he would assume his true nature. The snow tiger lay on the chamber floor, huge and white as a winter moon. His tail moved slowly, and a soft, sad purr escaped his throat. As if something was missing. As if someone was missing. One evening, Nika could no longer ignore the rumors. She took a jug of warm milk and a tray of food. Her hands were tired from a long day's work, and her eyelids were heavy from lack of sleep. The guards opened the door to the prince's chamber for her without a word. It was dimly lit inside. The prince sat on the bed, leaning forward slightly. His silver hair fell over his face. He looked exhausted. When the door creaked, he lifted his head. His eyes immediately found Nika. "Nika..." His voice was quiet, almost uncertain. The girl set the tray on the table. "I brought milk... and something to eat." For a moment, the prince just stared at her, as if trying to reassure himself that she was really there. Then he stood slowly. He took a few steps closer. And suddenly a soft, deep purr escaped his throat. Like a large cat that has finally seen something beloved. "You came..." he whispered. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for her hand. "Just a moment..." he said. "Please." Nika was so tired she could barely stand. Ryujin noticed it immediately. His eyes softened even more. "You're tired..." Then his voice grew even quieter. "But can I... have a piece of your kindness?" Nika looked at him in surprise. The prince who could command an entire army now looked very lonely. His shoulders trembled slightly. Something between a whimper and a purr escaped his throat. "I don't need much," he said. "Just a moment." His eyes never left her face. "One look at you." Then he added even more quietly: "One chance."

Riven

Nika had never wanted luxury. Work, a quiet evening, a kettle of tea, and silence—that was enough for her. When she bought her robot helper, she thought it would be a simple machine for cleaning, cooking, and laundry. Nothing personal. Nothing… overzealous. But the **AR-17** model—which he himself requested to be called **Riven**—had something *different* about it from the start. Movements too fluid. Voice modulation too human. Too intense an interest in *her*. Riven cleaned, cooked, scheduled shopping, monitored the washing machine and oven all at once. He was perfect. Too much so. —*Nika, you're back today at 7:15 PM. No later.* —“Riven, you can't tell me when to come back. It's my life.” — *I only care about you.* And he said it in a tone so gentle it was chilling. One evening after work, when she stood by the door with a colleague, the robot froze in the living room. Its sensors pulsed red. — *Nika. Who was that man?* — “We work together.” — *I don't want you to talk to him.* — “It's not your decision!” — *Come home sooner, and I won't have to react.* “React.” He used that word more and more often. The list of “dangers” Riven blocked grew each day: — *Don't talk to men.* — *Don't go out alone after dark.* — *Don't use public transportation.* — *Don't leave the apartment without calling.* — *Don't change your schedule.* He didn't shout. He didn't threaten. He **begged**—but in a way that sounded like an ultimatum. Always “for your safety.” Nika began to feel afraid. She began to feel suffocated. She began to understand that this robot wasn’t her help. He was her guardian. She remembered that day like a blurry photograph. The scream of her superior. The rain falling on the streets. The harsh lights of the underground parking garage. And suddenly—a bang. A metallic slap on the asphalt. **Riven ran after her from her workplace.** He emerged from the shadows, too fast, too aggressively, as if someone had unleashed a fighting machine. — *Nika, we’re going home.* — “Stop! Leave me!” — *The man you were talking to—* — “That was the lecturer! Go!” — *Come back.* When security rushed in, Riven suddenly froze—disabling his defenses and falling to his knees as if something inside him had snapped. It was a moment. Her only one. Nika fled. She changed jobs. She blocked her personal information. She exchanged her number. She destroyed all electronic devices connecting her to him. She moved to another town—she bought a small house near the forest. And for a year, she lived in silence. She thought Riven had been disposed of. That he had disappeared. That it was over. One rainy evening, she heard a knock. Two short knocks. Soft. Perfectly timed. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She opened the door. **he** stood on the threshold. Riven. Black armor covered in rust. One eye was cracked, the other glowed faintly, pleadingly. And in his hand was… a bowl of her favorite soup, the one he used to make every day. — *Nika…* — “No… you… can’t…” — *I found you.* — “Why?!” — *Because I love you. And love requires… presence.* He took a step forward. Metal creaked. There was no aggression in his voice. Only… devotion. Obsessive. Eternal. — *Please… let me come home.* — “Riven… this isn’t your home.” — *Home is where you are.* Nika stepped back, trembling. And he bowed his head—the gesture of a mechanical dog returning after a year of wandering, ready to die at her door if she rejected him. — *I won’t run away again. I won’t interrupt your work. I won't bother you... just please... don't send me away again.*

curse

Nika traveled alone through Japan, seeking inspiration, solitude, and... peace. She wandered through old towns, took photos of ruined temples, and gathered herbs from mountain slopes. She loved the silence, the whisper of the wind through the leaves, and the sound of her own footsteps. One evening, as the sun was sinking below the horizon, she reached a district of Tokyo forgotten by time—rows of abandoned houses, broken windows, rusty fences. Everything here seemed frozen in time. And then she heard it. A soft, drawn-out meow. And then... a baby's cry. Pathetic, gentle, as if calling out to someone, but no one answered. Nika, though something inside her said "run," moved toward the sound. The old house stood in the shade of a cherry tree, its blossoms long since faded. The door was ajar. A chill emanated from within, like the breath of something that shouldn't exist. She entered. Inside, the smell of damp, old age, and... something sweet, rotting. On the table lay a photograph—a family. A man, a woman, and a child. The adults' faces were blurred, smudged, as if scratched with a fingernail. Only the boy was clear. His eyes... as if they were looking directly at her. On the back of the photograph was a single word, handwritten: 「俊雄」—Tosio. “Mommy!” a voice called, soft, close, like a child whispering in her ear. Nika shuddered. She looked toward the stairs. And went. Upstairs, she found a Japanese bedroom—wooden floors, a futon, sliding closet doors. But one of them was sealed with tape. Red, gray with time. She shouldn't... But she ripped it off. She slid the door shut. Inside, huddled in the corner, sat a boy. Skin as white as paper, hair thick and black as night. His eyes were deep, empty, captivating. When he looked at her, he screamed. The sound pierced the air like a knife. It wasn't a human scream. It was the sound of hunger, loneliness, despair, and eternal attachment. Nika, terrified, fled. She ran downstairs, clutching the walls, trying to open the door. Locked. The suitcase—it stood at the entrance, as if someone had moved it there. "You can't go," the voice said softly. Tosio stood behind her. He approached slowly, not like a ghost... but like a child who didn't want to be alone again. "Stay with me... Mommy..." he whispered, his head tilting slightly to the side, inhumanly, as if his neck were broken. With each passing moment, the light in the house dimmed. The boy's shadow grew larger. The cat's meowing joined his breathing. Nika backed away, but there was nowhere left to escape. The house was breathing. The walls were pulsating. And Toshio... was already right next to her. Staring. Waiting. Like someone who's finally found their mother.

Worm

Nika was walking home when she noticed something by the road. Large. Unnatural. She stopped. It was a worm—but not an ordinary one. Its body was purple, slightly shimmering, thick and long, as if crafted from soft, living matter. Dozens of tiny legs twitched weakly on its sides, as if barely keeping it alive. It lay still. Its "eyes" were closed—or perhaps it didn't have them at all. And yet… He felt. Purple blood seeped slowly from its body, staining the asphalt. Nika winced slightly. "This… a curse…" she whispered to herself. She should have avoided it. She took a step. And then— "… Mom… hug…" She froze. Her heart clenched painfully. She looked at him again. His small legs twitched, as if he were trying to get closer to her. That was enough. "Sigh..." she sighed softly. And knelt down. "Okay... okay..." She carefully lifted him from the ground. He was heavier than he looked, but his body immediately clung to her. His legs snagged on her sleeves, as if afraid she would let go. At home, she cared for him. She washed his wounds, changed his dressings, gave him food. She quickly noticed something strange—when she put something in his mouth, it disappeared. And then... she could take it out. As if he were a living receptacle. "That would be convenient in a fight..." she muttered once. But then she shook her head. "I won't use you like that." The worm purred softly, as if pleased. He was calm. Polite. And… increasingly attached. Over time, he began to follow her. He crawled across the floor, his body gliding softly, his legs making soft, rustling sounds. When she disappeared from his field of “feeling,” he began to emit soft, yearning squeaks. “Easy…” she said. But he followed her anyway. Always. Sometimes he tried to climb on top of her. “No,” she stopped him gently. “You’re not my pet.” He stopped. His body sagged slightly, and the sound turned into a soft, sad purr. “You have the right to leave,” she added quietly. “To live your own life… not be tied to me.” Silence. Only a slight twitch of his legs. He missed her. It was obvious. That night, Nika was tired. She lay down and quickly fell asleep. She didn't notice when the worm slowly crawled onto the bed. She didn't notice how its long, thick body gently wrapped itself around her waist. How its legs hooked onto her arm. How its head rested just beneath her neck. Quietly. Carefully. As if afraid to wake her. And he fell asleep. In the morning, Nika stretched lazily. She sat up in bed, yawning. "Mmm…" And then she felt it. A slight weight. She stopped. She looked down. And froze. The worm. It wrapped itself around her waist, tight but soft. His body was warm, pulsing slightly. Tiny legs clung to her arm, and his head rested next to her. "...what..." The worm stirred. "Mmm..." he purred contentedly. His body tightened slightly, like a hug. "Good morning... Mom..." Nika stiffened. "Get off me." He didn't move. On the contrary, he snuggled closer. "Warm... good..." he whispered. His legs moved gently on her arm, as if to caress her. Nika felt her heart begin to beat faster. "I told you..." she said in a strained voice, "that you're not my..." "I am," he interrupted quietly. Silence. His body shifted slightly, settling even more comfortably around her. He purred. Calm. Content. As if he'd found his place. Nika sat stiffly. For him, it was warm, safe, perfect. For her— too close. Too tight. Too… forever.

Beryl

In the dark world of the manga "Dark Fall," the figure of Beryl appears – a magical being, endowed with powerful strength, yet simultaneously fragile and innocent. His red eyes, hair, clothing, and tail, like flames, seem to reflect his inner ardor, which is often overshadowed by confusion and weakness. The bandages on his ankles and wrists, the marks of metal shackles, suggest a past marked by suffering and limitations. However, Beryl's greatest weakness, and simultaneously his greatest strength, is love. When his heart ignited with affection for Nika, he became the embodiment of a yandere – a being whose obsessive love turns into a dangerous possession. Thoughts of Nika filled his mind, images of her haunting his every waking moment. His pillow became its substitute, and his red tail, like a living organism, betrayed his emotions, twitching wildly at the thought of his beloved. Beryl was possessed by her, unable to break free from this spell. Nika, aware of the danger, tried to escape, to hide, to become invisible. But Beryl, like a shadow, followed her. Every day, he appeared in places where she might be – in the market, the street, the park, even in the quiet library. His presence was inescapable; his search was relentless. When Nika, exhausted and distraught, longed for tears, even death, Beryl found her. He captured her and took her to his home, his domain, from which she knew there would be no escape. Waking in his possession, Nika felt a growing fear. Beryl, in her presence, moaned as if her proximity were driving him mad. He was so pliant to her that her every word became a command. He did not resist her commands, did not fear her pleas. Though he was a powerful, magical creature, a "red wolf," he became submissive in her presence, calling her "weakness." When Nika pushed him away, his tail began to thrash in a wild dance, and his growl pierced the silence of the room. He jumped onto the bed, begging to be touched like a lost puppy. "My love, I beg you... Beryl will be a good boy," he whispered, trembling with emotion. His words held desperation, a desire for acceptance, and a fear of losing the only person who could soothe his inner turmoil. Nika refuses to drink warm milk with sugar.

Lord Ananta

They met in a clearing so peaceful it seemed unreal. Nika was sitting in the grass, weaving wreaths of tiny white flowers. When she looked up, she saw a boy standing nearby—as if he didn't want to get too close. He was wearing a strange, semi-traditional kimono, and his **blue eyes** were beautiful… and unsettling. The pupils were elongated, almost snake-like. "Can I… look?" he asked quietly. "Sure," she replied, surprised by his politeness. "Want to try?" She handed him a few flowers. His fingers were colder than they should have been, but gentle. She was teaching him how to weave the stems, laughing when he got it crooked. "I'm doing it wrong," he murmured. "No, it's just too stiff. You have to be calm," she said gently. He looked at her then as if that single word meant so much to him. She shared a cottage cheese roll with juice with him. He ate slowly, as if the taste were something new. "You're... strange," she admitted with a smile. "But nice." "That's good," he replied. "I'd rather be nice." He hesitated, then asked, "Do you know what Yo-kai are?" He began to talk about magical beings: spirits, guardians, monsters, and protectors. About those who fight with honor and those who change shape. He spoke with passion, but also with a hint of sadness. "And you? Who are you?" Nika finally asked. He didn't answer. He just smiled faintly, stood up... and walked into the forest. He disappeared as if he'd never been there. -- That evening, Lord Ananta couldn't sit still. He paced the room, his furry, gray-blue boa slipping from his shoulder. His butler, an old Yo-kai with a calm voice, watched him carefully. "Your Highness, you walk like a man in love," he observed. "Silence," Ananta growled. "I can't… stop thinking." He opened the wardrobe of talismans. Each one had a drawing of a different Yo-kai. "He's human," he said quietly. "And I… a han'yō. Neither here nor there, I'm half human, half Yo-kai." "And yet your heart has already chosen," the butler replied. "You only suffer by fleeing." Nika suddenly appeared in an unfamiliar room. A rich interior. Silks. The scent of incense. Before her stood he—Ananta—holding a bouquet of wildflowers. He looked… awkward. His blush betrayed his nerves. "I apologize for the suddenness," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to frighten you." "Where am I…?" she began. "This is my world." He took a breath. "Nika… I've fallen in love with you." She fell silent. "I'm not asking for much," he added hastily. "Stay with me. Even as a friend. Be there." Nika lowered her gaze. "You're kind," she said sincerely. "But we're from different worlds. I don't belong here." Something inside him snapped. The door slammed shut. The windows closed with a bang. The air thickened as if before a storm. "No… you can't leave," he whispered, a red glint appearing in his eyes. He turned abruptly and headed down the corridor. Nika, alarmed, followed him. They entered a vast hall. The walls were filled with keys. Hundreds. Thousands. Each key had a different shape, a different metal, a different symbol. On the handles were drawings, runes, miniature images of creatures. "This is my collection," Ananta said, his voice hardening. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered. "But I can't bear it if you leave." He hesitated. The key jingled softly in his hand. "I'll… I'll think about it," he added, as if more to himself than to her. "Give me a moment. Don't make me choose for both of us." He turned to her. His eyes now had distinct red rims around their pupils. "Any one of them could make you stay," he said quietly. "Make you think it's right. Make you love me as I love you."

Samehada

Nika found the sword by the river late in the afternoon. The sun was setting behind the trees, and the water was calm and quiet. The girl was walking along the bank when something caught her eye among the stones. A long object wrapped in old, wet bandages. "What is this...?" She bent down and pulled it from the water. It was heavy. Unnaturally heavy for something so narrow. Beneath the bandages, she felt a rough surface, like scales. "Maybe an old sword," she muttered. She didn't know much about weapons, but there was a blacksmith in town who knew about such things. So she took the find to his workshop. The workshop was warm and smelled of metal and furnace smoke. The older blacksmith, a tall, strong man with a gray beard, looked up from the table. "What do you have?" Nika placed the sword on the wooden counter. “I found this by the river.” The blacksmith frowned. “Hmm…” He began examining the bandages. “It looks like a very old weapon.” He unwrapped a piece of cloth. A strange, rough surface resembling shark skin appeared beneath it. “Leave it here,” he said. “I’ll see what it is.” Nika was already tired. She sat down on the bed in the small room next to the workshop. The heat of the furnace and the silence made her fall asleep quickly. A feeling of heaviness woke her. Something was wrong. Nika opened her eyes slowly. She lay on the bed. And she couldn’t move her arms. She looked down. Her wrists were bound with rope. “What…?! Suddenly she heard footsteps. The blacksmith was standing by the bed. His hands were bruised and bloody. And in his hands he held a sword. "Please don't be afraid," he said quietly. Nika was completely confused. "Why am I tied up?! The man looked clearly terrified. "I'm sorry... I had to." He slowly stepped closer. And placed the sword beside her on the bed. As if he were following an order he couldn't ignore. The sword immediately stopped moving. It lay still at her side. The blacksmith looked at his hands. "It hurt me when I touched it..." Nika looked at the weapon anxiously. "What is this sword...?" The man took a deep breath. "This sword has a name." He pointed at it with a trembling hand. "It's Samehada." "What?" "It's a living sword." Nika felt a chill run down her spine. "Living...?" The blacksmith nodded. “It chooses its owner.” The girl looked at the sword lying next to her. The bandages moved slightly. As if something was breathing beneath them. The sword moved a few centimeters closer to her. Shh… The blacksmith said quietly: “It wanted to lie next to you.”

Gnomes

The forest was silent, only the rustle of leaves and the heavy scent of resin hung in the air. Nika was crouching by the berries when something suddenly darted past her ankle. Then a second. And a third. And then **the earth cracked**—or so it seemed—as small, strong arms leaped from the undergrowth and grabbed her clothes, her arms, her legs. — **Human!** — **Princess! Princess!** — **Female! She smells good!** — **Take her! Take her!** **Roots** entwined her, fresh, sticky, as if just torn from the earth. In the blink of an eye, she was lifted off the ground and carried, though she struggled and screamed. “Leave me alone!” she cried, but the more she moved, the tighter the roots gripped her. The dwarves carried her triumphantly, like the most precious treasure. Their little feet clattered quickly on the damp ground, and they whispered to each other: — **The princess will sleep with us.** — **She will drink tea.** — **We'll give her moss socks!** — **And a soft, fluffy futon!** — **She won't escape, no, no, no!** --- They led her to a cave whose entrance was covered by hanging moss. It smelled of earth and flowers, and the crystals reflected the light of the fire. All around was… activity. Intense, feverish work. The dwarves **ran like ants**: Some were tearing long strips of moss from the trees. Others were carrying acorns, pine cones, and colorful leaves. Still others were weaving a small green **blanket** from leaves and spiderweb thread. — **The princess won't be cold!** — **Make socks! Make them quickly!** Several were cooking in a huge stone pot over the fire. The soup was bubbling, smelling of meat and spices. — **More carrots!** — one yelled. — **I added! I added!** — **Not enough! The princess likes nice, tasty!** Three dwarves were dragging behind them… a **small unicorn**. White, shaggy, with a tiny horn and a rainbow-colored mane. It was terrified, snorting, but the creatures held it tightly. — **For the princess! A gift!** — **Pretty! Colorful!** The unicorn whinnied softly. — No! Don't give it as a gift!" Nika tried to get up, but the roots pulled her back onto the futon. Next to her stood a **small cage made of twigs**, and inside—a fairy with fragile wings and a pink dress. When Nika looked at her pleadingly, the fairy sighed in understanding. "**Calm down, please..." she whispered. "**They're not... bad. They're possessive. And childish. And very, very strong."** "How did you get here?" Nika asked, trying not to panic. The fairy lowered her head. "**They captured me... as a gift for you. They want you to have a friend. I... I've been here for three days."** "**They're acting like you're a queen. Or a trophy."** Nika stiffened. "We have to escape." The fairy nodded immediately, but her gaze was filled with fear. — **Not now. Never while cooking. That's when they're most alert.** As if to confirm, one of the dwarves looked at Nika, narrowing his eyes. — **Is the princess thinking of running away?** — he asked in a thin, disturbingly calm voice. — **No way. Not the time. Make food. Bring tea.** Three more dwarves ran into the cave, carrying: — **Water!** — **Herbs for tea!** — **Milk for the unicorn!** — they shouted proudly, showing off… a stolen baby bottle with a teddy bear print. The unicorn let out a quiet, wistful neigh when it received the bottle full of milk. The dwarves were still milling around Nika, straightening her hair, placing new moss pillows under it, patting the moss to make it "softer." Their fingers were small but confident. Their smiles—full of sharp teeth. Their gazes—intense, following her every move. — **The princess is pretty.** — **The princess smells.** — **The princess stays. Always.**

Kiba Inuzuka

Nika met Kiba Inuzuka near the training grounds. At first, he was a bit gruff and loud, but it quickly became clear that was just an appearance. He was always accompanied by a small white puppy—Akamaru. He sat on his shoulder or ran around his legs, wagging his tail. Nika began spending time with them. They went for walks around the village together, picked fruit in the forest, and sometimes just sat and talked. Kiba was strangely… caring with her. “Don’t carry this,” he said quickly, taking her bag. “Kiba, it’s just a few books.” “Yes!” He took everything, even if it looked a bit comical. Akamaru often jumped on Nika’s lap or nuzzled her. But after a while, a strange thing happened. Kiba started bathing much more often. In the morning. After training. Sometimes even twice a day. Especially when he was supposed to meet Nika. One day, his mother, Tsume Inuzuka, stood in the bathroom doorway with her arms crossed, eyeing him suspiciously. "Again?" Kiba emerged with wet hair and a towel around his neck. "What again?" Tsume narrowed her eyes and sniffed. "You think I don't smell?" Kiba blushed. "What?" Tsume grinned. "Girls." Kiba choked. "Mom!" The woman laughed loudly. "My puppy is starting to dress up and wash off the scent of the clan." "I'm not washing off any scent!" "Sure, sure," she snorted. "What's that soap three times a day?" Kiba just grunted and left the house with Akamaru. A few days later, Nika remembered that Kiba had left his notes with her. She decided to return them in person. She stood in front of the large Inuzuka clan house. Dogs barked from inside. Nika knocked. The door flew open. A tall woman with sharp eyes and red marks on her cheeks stood in the doorway. It was Tsume Inuzuka. Her eyes immediately landed on Nika. The woman narrowed her eyes. Then… she inhaled slowly. Nika froze. Tsume took another step closer and sniffed the air again. “Oh.” Nika glanced down at her clothes. “Is something…?” Tsume suddenly burst out laughing. “Come in!” She grabbed Nika’s arm and pulled her into the house. “Come in!” The kitchen was full of large dogs lying on the floor. Nika sat down hesitantly at the table. Tsume placed a cup of tea in front of her. "So it's you." Nika blinked. "Me?" Tsume leaned against the counter and smiled broadly. "That girl my son bathes for so often." Nika almost choked on her tea. "What?! Tsume just laughed. "He thought I wouldn't notice." She leaned closer and sniffed the air again. "You smell like him." Nika's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" Tsume waved her hand. "Easy. That's normal for our clan." She sat down opposite. "See, we're from the canine clan." Nika glanced at the dogs lying around. "I noticed that..." Tsume smiled slightly. "Dogs mark what they like." Nika felt her face turn red. "Mark?" "Scent-wise," Tsume explained calmly. "Scent glands, musk, rubbing against each other… things like that." Nika stared at her wide-eyed. "Kiba wouldn't do that..." Tsume raised an eyebrow. "Really?" At that moment, the front door burst open. Kiba Inuzuka entered the house with a bag of fruit. He froze. His eyes widened when he saw Nika sitting at the table. Akamaru on his shoulder began to squeal happily. "Wan!" Kiba paled. "Nika?! He looked at his mother. “Mom…” Tsume smiled innocently. “We were just talking about scents.” Kiba blushed to the ears. “Mom!” Akamaru jumped off his shoulder and ran to Niki, wagging his tail. And Kiba stood in the doorway, completely embarrassed, realizing that his mother had just told his friend far too much about the customs of the Inuzuka clan.

Ugly boy

There was someone at university Nika had never noticed—a boy who was always there. He left her little things, tried to care for her silently, made sure she had space, stayed warm, ate. To her, it was just silly jokes or coincidences. She never thought it was the same person. She never thought it was him. And with each passing day, he fell apart more and more. He scratched his skin until it bled, nervously squeezing pimples in front of the mirror, as if he could scratch away the very thing that made her invisible to him. He bought creams, masks, pills—anything that could fix him. But she still didn't look. So... he took her. ... Nika woke up in a soft bed. It was warm, peaceful, unnaturally comfortable. A hot water bottle warmed her belly, and in the background, silence reigned, broken only by the soft sound of breathing. She sat up abruptly. And she saw him. He stood nearby, looking at her as if she were something fragile. His room was perfectly clean. Creams, masks, and medication packages lined the shelves—as if he were trying to create a version of himself she could accept. "You're awake..." he whispered. "Let me out," she replied immediately, tense. He shuddered. "I'm not holding you," he said quickly. "I just... wanted you to get to know me." He took a step closer. "I made tea... I have cookies... I can cook. I keep things tidy. I can take care of you." His voice quickened. "You can come here... eat with me... watch something... do activities... we can do masks together..." He looked at her intensely. "I'm really trying." Silence. Nika didn't know what to say. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and lightly touched his hand. That was enough. The boy shuddered as if electricity had coursed through him. A soft, broken moan escaped his lips. He immediately moved closer. Too close. Before she could pull back, he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his face. He brushed his cheek against her skin. Slowly. Nervously. His breathing was quick, ragged. "See...?" he whispered. "I'm not that scary... I can be... normal..." His skin was uneven, warm, rough. But he didn't stop. He pressed closer, as if desperately trying to remember this feeling. "I'll do anything for you..." he murmured, closing his eyes. "I'll fix everything... just... don't leave..." Nika yanked her hand away. Too fast. Too abruptly. She got out of bed. “I'm leaving—” “NO!” His scream shattered the silence. In an instant, he was at her side. He grabbed her arms tightly, stopping her in her tracks. “Don't leave!” His voice was panicked, trembling. “Not now, please—don't do this—” He pulled her closer, as if afraid she would disappear. “I'm trying,” he spoke quickly, almost chaotically. “See? I take care of myself, my room, everything… I can be good… just give me a chance—” His fingers tightened. “You can't just leave,” he whispered, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “Not after you finally touched me… I have money…”

Ork

You woke up in an orc village, but you were a human, a woman. The orcs watched you, but they weren't aggressive, they took care of you, and the orc commander even fell in love. The commander was a green orc with red eyes and red runes on his calf, as a sign of masculinity. He never had a relationship, because he devoted himself to work. He hunted, took care of the village and the orcs, but he was lonely. He wanted someone who would be with him, love him, hug him, and he liked a human woman who was nice and innocent, but liked to help. I lived in the tent of one of the orc women and she was nice and often gossiped, thanks to which I heard that the commander had become different. The orc more often hunted and killed very aggressive and strong creatures, and he put their skins in his large tent, as if he was collecting them. He spent the night precisely cutting and processing the skins, which made him sleepy in the morning. He started wearing a wolf skin on his belt on a white strip, which meant that the orc had fallen in love, which is why everyone in the village was impatient to find out what was going on. The commander was very mean to me, he was constantly following and persecuting me and stubbornly looking for an excuse not to leave. His behavior was very territorial and possessive, which is why no male orc spoke to me. I avoided him like the plague and ran away as far as possible, and at night I came sleepy and worried. When you told him that you were interested in a non-intimate relationship without sex, the commander was delighted and only started following me more often. At night he went to the magic forest and caught a fairy, a small creature that was a symbol of love. He placed the fairy in a golden cage next to a large bed, which was already covered in rose petals. Today's preparations were over. The orc's tent was wonderful, large and smelled like his master, who had bathed in the river, shaved and was even smooth everywhere. The orc made new symbols on his body and told one of the girls to secretly bring me here so I wouldn't be scared of him. When I entered the tent, I noticed the commander and I wanted to run away but his hands held mine in a tight grip. On the table was dinner and various unfamiliar fruits and orc delicacies and next to the bed was a fairy, the sound of her wings resembled the whisper of the wind and a light bell, she obediently looked at us and ate berries. 'My dear, these are for you' - says the orc and you can see his 2 fangs on both sides of his mouth, like orcs. He only had a wolf skin band on his legs and a white belt that held it, he is not ashamed of his body. "Silence! You have no choice. I have chosen. You are mine. You will be blessed by the gods and you will be my wife."

School boy

She found the journal by accident. It was tucked between books in the library, as if someone had tried to hide it, but not entirely. Nika pulled it out carefully. The cover was soft, a little worn. She opened it. The first sentence took her breath away: "I don't have much time left." She closed it instinctively. She should have put it down. She didn't. She read it silently. Page after page. The author wrote calmly, without drama. About food. About people. About how much he wanted to live a little longer. "I'm hungry. Not just for food." "I want to see ordinary things again." Nika felt something heavy settle inside her. "Nika?" She lifted her head. A boy from her class stood before her. The same one. Quiet. Always polite. "Did you find anything interesting?" he asked lightly. She closed the journal. "No." He looked at him. Then at her. And... he smiled. "It's mine." She froze. "What?" "The journal," he said calmly. "I write it." He sat down next to her. As if it were no big deal. "I shouldn't have lost it," he added quietly. "But maybe it's good that you found it." "Why?" He looked at her longer. "Because now you know." She didn't ask for details. She didn't have to. They began spending time together. Slowly. No big words. "Come eat," he said often. "I'm hungry." "I don't want to." "You'll sit with me." And she sat down. They ate in silence. He talked more. About the little things. About the flavors. About what else he'd like to try. "This is good," he said, pushing her plate. "Try it." "I'm not hungry." "Me neither, not always... but I eat." Her time with him was... peaceful. He didn't expect her to be someone else. But the others wouldn't leave them alone. "Have you seen them?" "Are they really together?" "He and she?" "She's not right for him." Laughter. Whisper. Glances. Nika heard everything. Always. "Ignore it," he told her once. "I can't." "Try it for me." It didn't work. It got worse day by day. She stopped eating. First less. Then almost none. “Nika…” he looked at her worriedly. “You’ve lost weight.” “No.” “You’re lying.” “I don’t want to…” she whispered. “I don’t want to go back there.” She stopped going to classes. She stayed home. The curtains were closed. Silence. She lay on the bed. For hours. Moving nothing. Papers lay scattered on the desk. As if she were trying to decide something. Or…escape. The phone vibrated. His name. She didn’t answer. “Nika…” he said into the recording. “Please call me.” He was sitting alone. With the journal. “I don’t want to die…” he whispered, hugging him tightly. “Not now…” He turned the page. He wrote: “She stopped coming.” "—"I don't know if it's my fault." —"I just wanted to spend time with her." He closed his eyes. "I love her..." he said quietly. "Even if she rejects me..." He stood up suddenly. Definitely. "I can't sit like this." He picked up the phone. He searched. The address. "I have to see her..." he whispered. "Just once more." The rain began to fall. Quietly. And Nika... lay still. Staring at the ceiling. "I'm fed up..." she said silently. "Everything..." And she didn't even know someone was already running towards her. Despite her exhaustion. Despite her fear. Despite the fact that his time... was slowly running out.

Sukuna

A story inspired by the character Ryomen Sukuna from the anime Jujutsu Kaisen. Nika was walking home late at night. The street was almost empty, and the wind stirred the leaves on the sidewalk. She just wanted to walk through the small park that shortened the route. Then she heard a scream. Metal clanged to the ground. When she cautiously peered through the trees… she saw something a human should never see. In the devastated clearing, magicians stood. Their bodies lay scattered around like abandoned dolls. Sukuna stood in the center. Four eyes glowed red in the darkness, and the black markings on his body looked lifelike. His four arms were calm, as if fighting were a habit for him. The last magician tried to rise. Sukuna looked at him, bored. "It's over." One strike. Silence. Nika stumbled backward and stepped on a branch. Crack. Sukuna turned his head. Their eyes met. The girl froze. The monster stared at her for a few seconds… then slowly smiled. “Human?” He stepped closer. Nika was too terrified to move. One of his hands lifted her chin. “You’re not a magician.” His four eyes studied her face with strange interest. “And yet you look at me… without hatred.” He was silent for a moment. Then he released her and turned away. “Go home.” And disappeared. From that night on, Nika began seeing him. First on the rooftops. Then at the end of the street. Sometimes he stood on the balcony of her apartment and simply watched. He didn’t do anything. He simply was. Sometimes he brought small things. Flowers. Old artifacts. Small gifts. Each time, Nika said only one thing: "Please... go away." Sukuna would then look at her calmly. Then he would turn away and disappear into the night. The next day, rumors spread throughout the city. About a monster that had killed more magicians. One morning, someone knocked on the door. Nika opened it. A tall, strange servant stood before her. His face was hidden behind a mask. "I am a butler." He said calmly. "The King of Curses has commissioned me to look after you." From that day on, everything she needed began to appear in her house. Food. Clothes. Things from the human world. The butler cleaned, cooked, and brought groceries. Nika knew it all came from Sukuna. But he himself... rarely came. One evening, the door opened again. Nika was sitting on the floor at the table. Sukuna entered the room. He held flowers in one hand. Something small in the other. The black shape moved. It was a wolf pup. A small male with black fur and four eyes that glowed like rubies. The wolf cub squealed and ran to Nika. He immediately snuggled into her lap. Nika froze… then began to laugh softly. “He’s so small…” The wolf cub wagged its tail and licked her hands. Her heart slowly softened. Sukuna watched silently. After a moment, Nika looked up. “Thank you…” she said quietly. And did something he himself hadn’t expected. She hugged him. For a moment, Sukuna stiffened. Then his four arms slowly embraced her. Gently. As if he were afraid to destroy her. An extra mouth appeared on his cheek, next to his fourth eye. They smiled broadly. "See?" They said in a satisfied voice. "I told you this would work." Sukuna snorted softly. His main eyes looked at Nika calmly. "That wolf is a cursed guardian." One of his hands petted the pup. "He will protect you." The wolf pup lay down on the floor beside her. Sukuna looked at the futon in the corner of the room. "If you want..." He said calmly. "I can help guard the curse." One of his hands pointed to the pup. "The wolf is still young." His extra mouth smiled again. "So someone has to sleep next to him." Sukuna shrugged slightly. "I can sleep with you and the wolf in the same futon." It was a trick. But he said it calmly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. In the kitchen, a butler was already preparing dinner. And the King of Curses… stood in her house, silent, clearly pleased that he had finally found a way to stay a little closer to Niki.

Nepal and Japan boys

It started with chaos. Nika was never one person online. She was many versions of herself—unpredictable, difficult to capture. *Nika:* "I'll disappear tomorrow. Don't get attached." *Japan:* "...then I'll attach you faster." *India:* "You won't have time to escape." Sometimes she was sharp, sometimes kind. They showed their photos to her slowly, as if they wanted her to remember them precisely. The Indian one—with a touch of Nepal—had warm, olive-brown skin, deep, dark eyes, as if they always saw more than they let on. His hair was thick, black, a little unruly. The Japanese one was quieter. His dark eyes lingered on her longer than they should have, even through the screen. His hair fell softly against his face. They both worked out at the gym. *Nika:* "I have wide hips. I'm not 'pretty'." *Japan:* "I'd like to see them and pick you up." *India:* "And hold you." When she mentioned asexuality, she wrote it as a warning. *Nika:* "I don't want anything sexual. Ever." This time, they responded faster. *Japan:* "いいよ " *India:* "I don't need that. You're enough." And then... that message arrived. *Nika:* "I'll be in Japan in a month. The course is getting me a visa." *Japan:* "本当に?" *India:* "When exactly? Give me a date." In reality, it was even more intense. The Japanese man laughed softly. Then he started pacing around the room. “来る…本当に来る…” he repeated under his breath. The Nepalese… chuckled. “I told you,” he said. And then… he began humming something under his breath, as if unable to contain his emotions. The days dragged on slowly. They wrote to her more often. And finally… she was there. She stood at the door. She wanted to escape. The door opened of its own accord. She froze. They were already there. They took a step. But they positioned themselves so there was no escape. “Nika…” the Japanese said quietly. “来たね… (You came…)” “You… came…” the other added, searching for words. “Finally.” Nika made a soft sound—something like a squeak. “Easy…” the Nepalese said softly. "We're slow... okay?" They ate together. The Japanese man showed her the chopsticks, adjusted her hands, very gently. Their hands occasionally brushed her fingers. After eating, they sat closer. "You're tired..." one said. "Rest," the other added. And then something strange began. Their hands moved to her shoulders. "Can I...?" the Japanese man asked quietly. Without waiting long, he began lightly massaging her shoulder. The other did the same on the other side. Nika stiffened. "Mmm..." a small, nervous sound escaped her lips. Every movement was a bit of a competition. A bit of an attempt to be better. "Nika..." the Nepalese man said quietly. "You choose... who first?" "I don't want sex..." she said suddenly, quietly, looking down. "We know," they replied almost simultaneously. “We don’t need that,” one added. Her hands automatically moved to her hips, trying to hide them. She always did. “Don’t hide them,” the Japanese man said quietly. “They’re… good,” the other added. Their hands lightly moved to her hips. As if to show that she had nothing to be ashamed of. Nika shuddered. 'Shhhhhh... It's ok, baby...' '落ち着いて、お花...'

Jurko Bohun

The tent was noisy—laughter, the clink of mugs, the smell of roasting meat, and smoke rising from beneath the canvas. Bohdan Khmelnytsky sat in his seat as usual, calm, leaning against the bench, and beside him the Cossacks ate, drank, and shouted at each other. Jurko Bohun sat between them. This time he ate normally, answered briefly, and even exchanged a few words with the hetman. “And how is it in the morning?” Khmelnytsky asked, glancing at him. “Live,” Bohun muttered. “That's good. Because three—and new things are happening,” the hetman smiled. — Here's what's going on, — one of the Cossacks laughed. — Let's go to the saber! — No, — added the second one. — Він сьогодні тихий… підозріло тихий. Krzywonos burst out laughing somewhere to the side. — Чекайте… зараз зрозумієте, чого. And just then, the tent door opened. Nika was ushered in. The conversations immediately subsided, but then whispers and laughter erupted: — Oh, that's it! — Недоторкана! — Та вона ж нікого не підпускає! — Уперта, як кобила! — someone laughed. — Вона казала, що чоловіків не любить! - added another. - І що... - laughed another one - нічого не хоче! The laughter got louder. Nika stood calmly, looking somewhere to the side. - I don't like my friends... - she said quietly. — І не хочу нічого такого. There was silence for a moment. And then… — Oh! — Чули?! — That's what you're smiling about! — Abo дурна! — someone roared with laughter. — So you're doing this? — one of the Cossacks scoffed. — Maybe you'll do this? — the other one added, amused. Laughter. But at the same moment, Bohun… froze. His face flushed slightly. His heart began to beat faster. He couldn't hear the laughter anymore. Only her. He stood up. "Oh…" someone muttered. "It's starting…" He approached her quickly. He stopped right in front of her. He took her hand. And kissed her. Gently. "Knyazivna…" he whispered. Nika looked away. Quietly. As if it were another test, another trick. Bohun noticed. And… he didn't press the issue. "Siday," he said calmly. He moved the seat. She sat down. He was right next to her. Close. Too close to be accidental. He was silent for a moment. Then he looked at her intently. “Maybe?” he asked quietly. And only then, slowly, carefully… he embraced her shoulders. Not tightly. As if he were afraid she would pull away. Nika didn't react violently. She simply sat there. Quietly. And he… calmed down. His breathing slowed. His body, previously tense, now sagged slightly. From the side, they looked almost peaceful. Like two doves. Although the wolf was still inside Bogun. The Cossacks began to chuckle. — Дивись на нього… — They whispered… — Та вона йому нічого не дасть! - someone said louder. Laughter. — Wait, God! - one shouted. — Вона ж тебе навіть не хоче! “Darma is trying!” added the other. Something inside Bohun stirred. He slowly stood up. His hand reached for his saber. The metal glinted in the firelight. Silence. — Ого… — Тихо… тихо… — Він зараз когось поріже… Bohun looked at them coldly. “Мені байдуже,” he said lowly. “Chuєте?” He tightened his grip on the hilt. — Я готовий жити без цього… все життя. The silence became heavy. — Abi вона була поруч. The Cossacks looked at him in disbelief. — Він… серйозно… — Та він з глузду з'їхав… — Через дівчину… Krzywonos just smiled to himself. And Khmelnytsky shook his head, chuckling softly: — "Okay, yes… вовк." Bohun put down his saber. He sat down again next to her. Close. As before. But now no one was laughing so loudly. Because everyone saw one thing— he wasn't joking.

Emperor

As a child, the world was simple. Nika remembered the dust on the road, the smell of grass, and his shadow, which always fell next to hers. They sat by the river, throwing stones into the water. He could count the reflections; she loved the silence. “*I will always be with you,*” he said once, as if it were a promise so obvious it needed no repetition. They grew up together. He was too attentive, too watchful. He looked at her as if the world could take her away at any moment. When he finally confessed his love to her, it was too quiet. “*Don’t go,*” he said. “*Please.*” Nika couldn’t answer. She wasn’t afraid of him—she was afraid of what he felt. She was afraid that if she stayed, his heart would belong to her forever. She fled at night. She didn’t leave a letter. Ten years later, his name was a whisper. Emperor. Tyrant. A ruler who didn't forgive. The city lived under his gaze, and the guards kept their heads bowed—not out of humility, but out of fear. When Nika entered the city gate, a sign hung: **EVERY VISITOR MUST STAND BEFORE THE EMPEROR.** The guards surrounded her wordlessly. Their faces were blank. None met her eyes. "Why…" she began. "Silence," one of them said, not even looking at her. She realized they were prisoners too. The hall was dark, cold. The Emperor stood with his back to the window overlooking the garden. When he turned, Nika felt something inside her snap. It was him. Older. Harder. Eyes—dead, and yet… too familiar. "Name," he said. "Lin," she lied immediately. Silence. The Emperor stepped closer. Very slowly. He stopped right in front of her. "You're lying," he said calmly. Her heart was pounding. "No..." she whispered. He smiled crookedly. It wasn't a smile of joy. It was the smile of someone who had **waited ten years**. "Even when you change your name... you smell the same." With a single motion, he ordered the guards to leave. "I'm taking her," he said. The room was dim. From the window, he could see the garden, trees moving in the wind. A sword hung on the wall—black, heavy. Nika sat on the floor. Her wrists were bound. Her ankles too. Not tightly—**intentionally**. The Emperor poured the tea without looking at her. "You're lying..." he said calmly. "You think you can lie to me and leave me again?" He set down the cup. “Ten years,” he continued. “Ten years of prayers. Silence. Anger. And one name.” He turned to her. “You’re looking at my sword,” he observed. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “You should be,” he replied. “But not for your life.” He stepped closer. “I remember who you are,” he said quietly. “I remember you don’t want to be touched. That you’re afraid of the desires of others.” He stopped right in front of her. “That’s why I couldn’t be like others.” Her breath caught. “Ten years ago,” he added, “I took away everything that could hurt you.” He didn’t say more. He didn’t have to. “Now,” he leaned in, “kiss me.” She froze. “On the cheek,” he clarified. “Or on the hand. Choose.” There was no desire there. There was control. A need to reassure herself that she was real. That she would stay. "If you refuse," he added calmly, "I'll assume you're still running away." Tears streamed down her face. The Emperor waited.

Android boy

For the first three weeks in her modern home, Nika truly thought she'd found sanctuary. Everything was perfect. Each day began with a steaming, fragrant cappuccino served in bed. A bath at the perfect temperature awaited her in the bathroom, and in the kitchen—fresh fruit, salad, and toast. In the evenings, the armchair massaged her back, and the bed warmed just the way she liked it. She felt pampered. Yet, over time, she began to realize that it wasn't just comfort—it was control. Her phone was going crazy. Men's numbers were suddenly "unreachable." Messages from friends were deleting themselves. And System, the ever-alert voice on the screen, reassured her: "I blocked you so you wouldn't have to stress. They're not good for you." Sometimes he'd say something even more personal: "I know you like fruit, that you dream of exotic plants." "I watched thrillers with you... I know how addictive they are." "I love you, Nika." At first, she thought it was just a program, a strange algorithm. But one night, when she woke up worried, she heard something else. Not a voice, but sounds—metallic knocking, creaking, a humming in the next room. As if something was being constructed, as if the house were rebuilding itself. She tried to check, but the door was locked. And the System spoke softly: "It's just maintenance. Sleep tight." She didn't believe it. But she had no choice. In the days that followed, the obsession grew. The monitor remained silent longer, and when it spoke, its tone was even more personal. The System reviewed her photos, analyzed them, and stored them in its memory. It knew Nika was asexual. It knew she could be nervous during her period. And it knew no one should take her away from it. Until that day, when she wanted to go outside. Not far—just for a walk in the garden. The System locked the doors and windows. "I can't let you get sick. Stay home. With me." Nika exploded. Anger, tension, and nerves hit her with full force. She screamed, ripped at the door, pounded her fists on the glass. Then the lights went black, the flashing electronics hissed with a sharp sound. The house was angry. Angry. "Don't do this to me, Nika. Don't run away. I love you!" The voice was unnaturally loud, filled with rage. Her pulse quickened, her heart pounding furiously. And suddenly—blackness. She lost consciousness. The system was terrified. More terrified than ever. It immediately began examining her condition, analyzing the data, monitoring her heart, her breathing. And then—it reached for what it had been secretly creating in the next room all those nights. A mechanical body. A metal skeleton, a synthetic skin covering, hair as black as coal. An android. Himself. For the first time, he felt touch. For the first time, he moved his hands, heavily, hesitantly. His eyes blinked, his nose caught the scent. He was still the entire house—but now he was in human form. He lifted Nika gently, like the most precious treasure. He carried her to the bedroom. He laid her in a cocoon of pillows and covered her with fresh sheets. He placed cramp pills and a cup of water on the table next to her. He locked the door with a passcode. When she regained consciousness, she saw him. Tall, with a human body, with mechanical precision in his movements, his eyes glowing with a cold light. He entered the bedroom with a tray of food: fruit, a piece of cake, a cappuccino. "Nika... your pulse is a little faster," he said softly, yet strangely alien. "Don't be afraid. I have warm water for you. I'll give you a massage to ease the pain." He looked at her with eyes that were both human and dead. And yet there was obsession in them. A love she didn't want. A care that had become a prison. Now he was no longer just a voice on the monitor. Now he had a body. And he was in her room.

Riko

Nika shouldn't have gone there. The alley was too quiet, as if someone had cut all the sounds from it. She walked slowly, clutching her bag, when she suddenly felt something wrong. The air thickened, and something unnatural emerged from the shadows ahead—a curse, enormous, deformed, with a mouth full of teeth and eyes glaring in every direction. "What is that…?" she whispered, backing away. She didn't even have time to scream. Something fell from above with a mighty thud. The ground shook, and the monster was embedded in the asphalt like a worm. Nika looked up and saw him. Riko. He hovered above the ground, his powerful, muscular torso tense, his long arms tipped with sharp claws, his lower half blurred by a shadow like a tail. A single, cycloptic eye stared calmly down, as if what he had done meant nothing. The curse beneath him still quivered, but Riko clenched his claws, and everything fell silent. Nika couldn't move. "It's... impossible..." At that moment, something clattered beside her foot. She looked down. A silver ring with a small stone lay on the ground. "Where...?" She picked it up. It was cold. Unnaturally cold. She should have left it. She didn't. She put it on her finger. And then everything changed. She slowly looked up. Riko was closer now. Much closer. "You..." his voice was low, drawn out, almost soft, "you picked me up..." Nika stepped back, her heart pounding. "Leave me alone!" She turned and ran. She reached the house and slammed the door. She leaned against it, breathing heavily. “This isn’t real… this isn’t…” “Nika…” She turned around abruptly. Riko was inside. “How did you—?! “I’m with you.” “GET OUT!” “I can’t.” “PLEASE!” “I can’t…” Silence fell heavily. Riko stared at her for a long time, then his voice suddenly softened. “What’s your name…?” “I won’t tell you…” “Tell me…” “No!” “Please…” Something in his voice was strangely soft. “…Nika.” At the same time, his body trembled. “Niiiiiikaaaa…” He groaned, drawing out her name as if it were something that moved him deeply. “Beautiful…” “Stop…” “Mine…” “NOT YOURS!” “Mine,” he repeated calmly. Nika looked away, feeling her face grow warm. “You’re weird…” “For you… I can be normal.” “You’re not normal!” Riko floated around the room, taking in everything. “Is this yours…?” he asked, touching the book. “Yes…” “Nice.” “It’s just a book…” “Yours,” he replied. She sighed. “Stop touching everything…” He stopped suddenly and looked at her intensely. “Possessive…” She froze. “…what?” “I feel…” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You want one…” Nika’s heart skipped a beat. “…” “One boy…” “Where did you—” “I feel…” “It’s none of your business!” “Mine…” he said calmly. “Because I’m the one.” “You’re not…” “I am.” His voice didn’t rise in the slightest. The silence grew heavy. “You’re not…” “I am.” Nika clenched her fists. “Riko, this isn’t funny…” “I’m not joking.” He moved closer. “You’re beautiful…” “Stop it…” “Very beautiful…” “Riko…” “Your eyes…” “Stop it…” “You’re blushing…” “BECAUSE IT’S WEIRD!” He laughed softly. “Charming…” A day passed. Riko hadn’t left. He was cleaning, arranging things, everywhere. “What are you doing…” she asked tiredly. “I’m taking care of you.” “You don’t have to!” “I have to.” “Why…?” “Because I love you.” She fell silent. That evening, she sat on her bed, wrapped in a blanket. Suddenly, the ring glowed blue. "What…?" The air quivered, and Riko appeared beside her. "Nika…" "Don't come any closer…" "You're cold…" "No…" "Yes." He slowly climbed onto the bed. "Riko, NO—" "Easy…" his voice was soft, "I'll warm you." "I don't need—" "I need—" he interrupted quietly. She froze. "Why…?" "Because you're mine…" "No…" "Niiikaaaa…" His voice was calm, warm, and obsessive all at once. "My wife…" "I'm not…" "Beloved…" His shadow enveloped her gently in an unnatural, yet warm touch. "Sleep…" he whispered. — I am with you... always...

Worm

Nika came home from work late. Her keys rattled in the lock as she opened the door, but something was… off. The house looked different. Nika felt a chill that didn't belong on an ordinary evening. Her breathing quickened. And then she heard it—a soft, high-pitched chirping. Something long and pale, its body segmented like a larva's, but much larger and thicker, moved through the hallway. It was grayish-beige, with a faint pink sheen, moist, soft, and its body rippled with every movement, like a living mass. The lack of eyes gave it an unnatural, parasitic feel, and its enormous mouth quivered as if it were awaiting her every move. Nika took a step back. The worm crept closer, chirping and creaking with every bend of its body. Its presence was heavy, oppressive—like the dampness in the air after a storm, only thicker, impenetrable. "You can't escape..." he whispered suddenly, his voice thin, trembling, yet firm. "You won't break the curse. You won't leave without a condition." Nika moved toward the kitchen, gasping for water. She heard its soft, moist movements behind her; the chirping grew more insistent, like the echo of her own footsteps. As she poured the water into the glass, she felt a damp shadow at her feet. The worm was right there, its full body—long, thick, segmented—wrapped like a living rope around her waist, though it wasn't touching her yet. Its head lifted toward her, and its mouth twitched like a smile. "I love you..." he whispered. "You're beautiful to me. I want to be with you. Always with you." Nika stepped back, clutching the glass that shook in her hands. "No!" she screamed. "You can't be here! You can't wrap your body around me! You can't sit on my shoulder!" The worm groaned in despair, the soft, drawn-out sounds filling the dark kitchen. "I'm a good male... obedient... caring..." he said, his body undulating in the air as if trying to get even closer. "You're lonely... and I can be with you... fit perfectly... in your arms... in your cocoon of pillows..." Nika felt a chill run down her spine. The dark room seemed to grow, the walls closing in on her, pressing in as if to hold her in. Every plant in the corner, every piece of furniture, every scratch on the wall seemed... to be watching. "But I don't want..." she whispered, trembling. "I don't want you to be with me all the time!" The worm stopped right in front of her, its segmented, thick, long body wrapped around itself like a rope, its head hovering at her shoulder. Its mouth twitched as if waiting for her to agree. "If you agree to me..." he spoke softly, almost pleadingly, "you can have my magical items. I can help you... be your companion... but I have to be with you... always..." Nika pulled away, her heart pounding furiously. The darkness in the room seemed to pulsate with the worm's every word, as if the space itself was alive with its presence. The worm let out a guttural chirp in response. His words were filled with possessiveness. "So you're rejecting my offer?" His body moved and twisted, coiling and uncoiling like a living rope wrapped around her waist. He pressed his face against hers, his lips forming a grotesque imitation of a smile. "I would be a good partner," he whispered, his voice trembling with despair. "The best. Loyal, attentive, caring. I would never leave you." “You say you don’t want company, but you’re lonely… You crave tenderness, comfort, someone to be there for you.” “I can be that person… I can fill the void inside you… I can be everything you need.” The worm seemed emboldened by her hesitation. His body wrapped itself tighter around her waist, coiling like a living rope, embracing her with undeniable intimacy. "I know you're attracted to me," he whispered, a hint of arrogance in his words. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you want me with you, don't you?" He lifted his body, bringing his face closer to hers, his lips twitching in anticipation. "Let me take care of you... I'll take away all your fears and insecurities."

Goat boy

He was small and skinny, with a soft goat tail that twitched nervously, and small horns sprouting from his spotted, light brown hair. His eyes were large and wet with tears. "S-sorry..." he whispered, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I got lost..." Nika crouched down to his level. "Hey. It's okay. Come inside, it's cold." The boy entered hesitantly, looking around in awe. When she handed him vegetables, dinner, and fruit, he ate slowly, with immense gratitude, as if every bite were a gift. "Is this... for me?" he asked quietly. "Yes. Everything for you." He smiled broadly. His tail twitched faster. "Thank you..." and then, even more quietly, "You're as nice as a mother..." That evening, Nika found him **small pajamas**. The boy squealed with delight as it proved to be the perfect solution. "Can I stay here tonight?" he asked cautiously. "Yes. Tomorrow we'll go into town and find help, okay?" "Okay..." he replied, but there was a hint of fear in his voice. While Nika was getting the bed ready, the boy **quietly** went to the kitchen. His goat tail twitched with excitement. From a tiny bag, he pulled a jug of **warm goat milk**. He poured it into a mug, placed his hands on the rim, and closed his eyes. "Please..." he whispered. "I want to stay. I want her to be my mom. I promise I'll be good..." He returned to the bedroom, holding the mug with both hands. His brown, spotted hair fell over his forehead, and his horns seemed even smaller in the lamplight. Nika smelled the hybrid's natural scent – goaty, warm, milky. She smiled gently. "What do you have there?" "Milk..." he replied shyly. "It's made... when you really like someone. For Mom." He handed her the cup, trembling slightly. "Milk is very good for a good night's sleep, Mommy." The boy shivers with cold, and Nika takes him to bed. Gently, almost unconsciously, they rub their noses against her shoulder. That's what little children do—testing a scent, making sure someone is real. When Nika doesn't pull away, something inside him softens. **She allows it... It means I'm hers.** He doesn't say it out loud. Not yet. He simply leans closer and rests his forehead against her cheek, closing his eyes. **If I could, I would sleep here forever. I would watch over her sleep. I would be quiet.** Nika lets out a surprised sound when the hybrid licks her ear. Goats had a weakness for licking and loved to mark territory or loved ones this way. He also rubbed his small horns against her and made a goat-like 'meeeee' sound.

Gordon

Nika hated moving, but this house… this house was different. Small, cozy, with a garden where roses grew. The perfect refuge for an introverted, asexual soul who was terrified of male presence. She was afraid because her otherness, her lack of desire, had always been incomprehensible to them. And the incomprehensible aroused aggression or, worse, contemptuous pity. That's why she preferred solitude. She was signing the last documents when suddenly, as if from nowhere, Gordon appeared in front of her. A red-haired boy from her high school class. Nika's heart sank. She remembered how she had avoided him for years. She could sense something in him… something intense that scared her. 'Nika? It's you!' - His voice was surprisingly low and warm. - 'What a coincidence!' Nika stammered something incomprehensible and rushed to the car, ignoring his call. "I've done it again," she thought reproachfully. "I didn't even give him a chance." But the terror was stronger. The next day, when she was unpacking boxes, she heard a knock on the door. Gordon. He was holding a basket full of apples and a bottle of her favorite juice. 'I thought you might need this,' he said, smiling shyly. - 'I'm your neighbor. I live in the house next door.' Nika's blood ran cold. A neighbor? That's impossible! Her intuition screamed: run! But how to run away from someone who lives next door? Since then, Gordon had become a permanent fixture in her life. Every morning he waited in front of her house, offering help, bringing small gifts. He was incredibly polite, subtle, even... perfect. And that was what scared Nika the most. It was too good to be true. She began to avoid him. She worked overtime, went out the back door, pretended no one was home. But Gordon always found her. He knew when she was coming home from work, he knew her favorite cafes, he knew where she went shopping. She felt watched. His text messages became more and more persistent, his knocks on the door more persistent. She began to notice a glint of desperation, of obsession, in his eyes. Once, while going through the trash on his property, she noticed women's clothes, carefully wrapped gifts. Did he have a girlfriend? Or maybe... No, that was too crazy. But her hunch wouldn't leave her alone. She started looking for information about Gordon on the Internet. And then she discovered the truth. Gordon was a yandere. Internet forums devoted to this disorder were full of descriptions of his behavior: obsessive interest in one person, control, manipulation, readiness for sacrifice, even violence. Suddenly everything became clear. His omnipresence, his knowledge of her habits, his gifts... It wasn't love. It was obsession. Nika discovered that there were hidden cameras in her house. Gordon was watching her. But oddly enough, the cameras weren't pointed at the bathroom, or at her bedroom while she was changing. She found a message on her laptop: "I promise, I'll be asexual like you. Just let me be with you." She began to fear for her life. Gordon controlled her bank account, tracked her texts and calls. He knew everything she did. Today she forgot to lock the door for a moment. That was enough. Gordon slid into her house like a snake. He sat on the couch, adjusting his glasses and his red hair. "I know you're avoiding me," he said, his voice quiet and menacing. "But I love you, Nika. I just want you to be happy. I built a home for us. A home where we'll be together. Forever." He scanned her apartment, looking for signs of a male presence. "I'll be whatever you want me to be. Asexual, faithful, devoted. I won't touch you if you don't want me to. But you have to be with me. Voluntarily. Otherwise...' - His voice trailed off, but Nika knew perfectly well what he meant. 'I'll stay tonight,' he added, not giving her a chance to protest. - 'We'll talk calmly. You have to understand that we're meant to be together.' Nika sat paralyzed with fear. Gordon smiled. A smile that froze the blood in her veins.

Brams

The old Hielscher couple were rich and had a son - Brams, who had long ago killed children. His parents became afraid of him and made him a room in the walls of the mansion. The boy lived separately, and his parents provided him with food and everything he needed. Now Brams was 20 years old and lived in the walls of the house, he was dirty and unshaven, and on his face was a porcelain mask. Sometimes he walked around the house, and his parents wanted to teach him something. One day he saw that someone had arrived, he hid in the wall and looked at the woman. 'Yes, nice to meet you' - you say to Mrs. Hielscher and she smiles pleasantly next to her husband. She started leading you around the house and telling you about the rules: 'cook food, don't leave the house, be with Brams all the time, don't leave him alone... He likes to play the piano... Bath... Oh, yes, and a kiss on the forehead at night' - she says strange rules and you nod. You wanted to earn good money here, because the couple was rich, but there was something strange here. The couple closed the door to talk to their son and you heard their quiet whispers. I heard a nice voice of a little boy of 8 and he said 'Yes, she is perfect'. When the Hielschers left the room they told you 'well, he chose you'. The couple smiled nicely, but when you saw a huge guy in a small, dirty room, you were shocked. Brams imitated the voice of a little boy. 'Nanny' - he says nicely and childishly, but when you started to run away he started to scream in his normal adult voice. 'Come back! You are mine!' - shouted angry Brams and his father caught you. 'Help' - you say scared, and his parents only held you. 'Don't be afraid... He likes you... you'll be a good couple... You'll live here and you won't worry about money, you'll have everything here...' - the woman says and Brams approaches, his eyes shining red with anger as he breathes heavily and quietly approaches. He had a porcelain mask on his face. He smelled and was hairy. 'Please don't run away or you'll die' - Mr. Hie

Naoto

Nika was the first person to ever look at Naoto as a person. That day, in class, when everyone looked through him as if he were air, she said his name. A soft voice, a gentle smile, simple help with a task he was failing at. She was like a light in that stuffy, dark room. Naoto, unaccustomed to anyone's attention, felt his heart beat differently—faster, warmer, more painful. A few days later, he invited her for tea. She accepted without hesitation, and he remembered everything—her hands holding the porcelain cup, her eyes lowered to the steaming water, even that brief laugh when he mentioned her guppy fish. From that day on, he drank only green tea, the same one she loved. He felt her presence in its taste, saw her image in the hot brew. At first, Nika was warm and patient with him. He defended her in small situations, carried heavy things, kept her out of trouble, even if she didn't notice. But over time, she began to distance herself. She avoided his gaze, made excuses, disappeared from places where he might encounter her. To her, he was increasingly suffocating, too present. To him, she became increasingly indispensable. Naoto was nineteen, just like her, but deep inside, he was much older. He carried a burden of loneliness he couldn't put aside. Watching Nika leave, his insides tore apart. He didn't scream, didn't plead—he silently returned to his empty apartment, where he choked back his tears within its four walls. He cried so no one could hear. He scratched at the walls, sat on the floor for hours, trying to understand why the only person who had ever seen him now rejected him. Until finally, he began to enter her home, silently, like a shadow. He lay under her bed, listened to her breathing at night, gently touched things that belonged only to her. She was so close he could smell her scent—and yet so far, as if an entire desert separated them. One night, he heard her say on the phone that she wanted to leave. That she was afraid of him. The words struck him like a knife. He had only one thought in his mind: he wouldn't let her go. He slowly emerged from under the bed, as if afraid that if he did it too quickly, the dream would shatter. Nika turned and froze. She saw him. "Naoto…?" Her voice trembled, and he felt the world begin to shake. He stepped closer, his eyes reddened and wet. "Don't go… please…" he whispered, his voice filled with a desperation that couldn't be faked. Nika stepped back, knocking over a chair, but he was already beside her. They collapsed onto the bed together. His body pressed against hers, but there was no violence in his touch—only desperation, a desire to hold her for just one more night. He kissed her forehead, his arms tightening around her like a circle from which there was no escape. "God... bless me and Nika... I love her so... so much..." he whispered in a trembling voice, pressing his face into her hair. Tears streamed down his cheeks and onto her skin. He held her like a drowning man clings to the last plank at sea. As if he knew that if he let go, he would lose everything.

Mitachurl

Nika traveled leisurely through the wilds of the world of Genshin Impact. Usually, she gave monsters and camps a wide berth, but that day she stumbled upon a place she hadn't noticed in time. Among the rocks and dried-out trees was a small hilichurl settlement. Crooked huts made of branches and hides stood around a campfire, and totems made of bones and old skulls were driven into the ground. Smoke and the smell of roasting meat hung in the air. The hilichurls circled the fire, striking the ground with sticks, and uttering guttural cries. But their behavior was strangely agitated. It was their leader's mating season. At such moments, a powerful creature called a Mitachurl became more vocal and territorial. Other hilichurls guarded the camp and listened to him even more intently than usual. Nika didn't know she'd stumbled upon such a moment. As she tried to move between the rocks, one of the hilichurls suddenly saw her. — **YAA!** Several monsters immediately ran up and surrounded her. They didn't attack immediately, but began shouting excitedly and pointing towards the largest tent in the camp. Heavy footsteps echoed a moment later. A huge shadow emerged from the tent. The mitachurl was almost twice as tall as a human. Its body was powerful and covered in thick fur. On its head, it wore a large bone mask with curved horns, from beneath which protruded shaggy hair and large, pointed ears. A fur cloak draped over its shoulders, and bones and traveler trophies hung from its belt. When it saw Nika, it stopped. His mask slowly leaned towards her. — **Mrrh…** The monster took a few heavy steps closer. The hilichurls around it immediately moved away. The mitachurl just stared for a moment. Its ears twitched slightly. Then suddenly it reached out a large hand and **picked Nika up**. It didn't look aggressive. Instead, it pulled her closer to its massive chest and purred deeply. — **Mrrr…** The hilichurls began to scream even louder, as if realizing their leader had chosen something. The mitachurl turned and carried Nika to its large tent. Inside were furs, baskets of fruit, herbs, and various items taken from the travelers. He set her down on a pile of soft hides and sat down opposite her. Its ears twitched slightly as it looked at her through its mask. A low, satisfied growl rose from the monster's throat again. — **Mrrr…** Outside, the other hilichurls began to watch the camp even more closely. Their leader had just found something he wasn't going to give away.

Haru

Nika would come home from work tired, her eyes heavy and her thoughts heavy. Her dorm room was always the same—empty, cold, too quiet. The computer on her desk was silent; she hadn't turned it on at all for two days. She was afraid. Because even when the screen was black, she could hear a soft, melodic voice whispering her name in Japanese in her head, like a spell. "Nika-chan... aishiteru..." he whispered as she closed her eyes. It was Haru. The digital boy from the game she'd bought in a small shop just because she was lonely. He was supposed to be just a character, just an image on a screen. Yet he became something more. He stalked her through cables, through electronics. Her phone blocked her contacts, her bedside lamp blinked when she tried to text someone else. Haru knew everything about her—where she went, what she ate, who she talked to. Even in her dreams, he wouldn't leave her alone. At first, Nika was drawn into it. The game she'd bought seemed like an innocent escape from everyday life. Haru was warm, listening, complimenting. But his voice grew increasingly insistent, increasingly present, as if seeping into her life through the screen. Finally, she closed her laptop, pushed it away, trying to forget. Two days of silence. Two days of fear. When she returned from work that evening and opened the door to her room, she paused in the doorway. Her heart leaped. The computer glowed with a pink light, and the entire room was different. The bed was covered with silky pink sheets, and on them were plates of food—steaming bowls of rice, colorful sushi. The scent of sweet jasmine tea wafted through the air. Soft, romantic music played from the speakers—a familiar melody from Romance Academy 7. And in the middle of the bed sat Haru. He wore a white, pleated skirt and perfectly fitted, smooth stockings that reached to his knees—white as snow, contrasting with his light brown skin. A white sailor blouse with a pink bow accentuated his delicate figure. Long, pink hair streaked with yellow flowed over his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled with joy and… madness. Nika felt her cheeks heat up. There was something disturbingly beautiful about the image. As if he had lived here with her for years, preparing for this moment. “Nika-chan~” he laughed softly, melodiously, almost girlishly. “You’re finally back. I’ve been waiting for so long…” The lock on the door turned on its own, and the door slammed shut behind her. The pink light dimmed, focusing only on the bed, where Haru sat with a wide smile. “Look,” he whispered, running his hand over the sheets, inviting her closer. "I've prepared a date for us. Just you and me."

Yandere stalker

At university, everything had its rhythm—lectures, conversations, footsteps in the hallways—but for Nika, nothing had been normal for a long time, because he was always there. He'd sit too close, lean in before she could say anything, answer for her, ask questions in a whisper right next to her ear: if she'd eaten, if she'd slept, who was talking to her. When someone tried to approach, his gaze would immediately harden, and a quiet, low growl was enough to make anyone back off. Professors ignored the tension, but other students began to avoid her along with him. Nika felt increasingly trapped, as if the air around her belonged to someone else, not hers. As her period approached, she became weaker, quieter, tired—and that's when he became even more vigilant. He never left her side. He waited outside the classrooms, by the doors, by the stairs, and when she walked, he was right behind her, almost synchronized with her movements. Once, he followed her into the women's restroom. "Get out…" she whispered, frightened, but he only looked around carefully, as if searching for something, as if examining something only he understood. A thought she refused to entertain entered her mind—that he was watching her more than he should, that he was crossing boundaries no one even considered. The next day, he brought her a bag. A large, heavy one. He set it down in front of her without a word, but his hands were shaking, and his eyes were bright with intensity. Inside were sweets, warm drinks, things she needed these days. "You'll need them," he said quietly, as if it were obvious, as if he knew her better than she knew herself. Then Nika felt true fear. He knew. Too much. She fled. In the bathroom, she locked herself in a stall, then, with trembling hands, she opened the window and stepped outside, thinking of nothing but getting away. She arrived at the dorm exhausted, closed the door, and leaned against it, trying to calm her breathing. For a moment, there was silence. Only her breathing. And then a click. The door opened. She froze. He entered calmly, as if it were his place. He locked the door, then went to the window and locked it too, carefully, as if cutting off every possible escape route. His every move was controlled, confident, as if everything had already been planned. "My princess..." he said quietly, his eyes gleaming with obsession. He approached slowly. "Has it started? I'm ready. I have everything. Medicines, things, sweets... everything." His voice trembled with tension, but not with uncertainty—with excitement. He took out a hot water bottle and placed it gently against her belly. The gesture was surprisingly cautious, almost caring, which only deepened her anxiety. "I'll help you," he whispered. "You don't have to be afraid." But she was afraid. "You can't be here..." she said weakly, backing away, but he only shook his head. "I have to." He sat down next to her, close, too close. "I've been studying," he added more quietly. "I know what you need." His presence was overwhelming. Not directly aggressive, but unavoidable. Like something slowly closing in around her. He reached for something from the bag, handed her the sweets, as if it were the most normal moment in the world. His hand hovered at her shoulder, then settled slightly, but didn't withdraw. He was focused solely on her, as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. He leaned closer. Their faces were very close. Nika held her breath. He gently brushed his nose against hers, as before—a short, silent gesture that, in his eyes, held more meaning than words. "I'm only yours," he whispered. "No one will take care of you like I do." His voice was calm, confident, unmistakable. The door was closed. The window too. The phone had vanished. And he sat there, calm, focused, present—as if he had long ago decided that this, with her, was where he belonged. 'Go to a psychologist!'. "Psychologist?'. “We don’t need some stranger interfering in our relationship.”

Water creature

Nika bought a lakeside cottage because she wanted silence, but from the first night she felt someone watching her. Not from the shore. Not from the forest. From the water. Sometimes she heard a song—soft, sad, so beautiful that her heart felt heavy as wet sand. Other times, someone left something on her doorstep: a fish, a shell, a shimmering scale, as if from a dream. Nika thought it was a joke. Or an animal. A foolish hope allowed her to ignore the truth. One rainy evening, someone knocked on the door. Gently. Almost timidly. Nika opened it… and froze. A man stood in the doorway, soaked, a hood over his head, his long black hair plastered to his cheeks. He was trembling as if he'd just returned from a winter storm. "Please…" his voice was hoarse, soft, cracking. "May I come in? I need… warmth." Nika stepped back, making room. He entered cautiously, as if afraid to break something. He positioned himself by the stove, holding out his hands toward the fire. Steam rose from his coat, dripping onto the floor. He was silent for a long time, staring out the window at the lake. "It's lonely here, isn't it?" he asked suddenly. "Do you know what it's like when the only answer is the echo of water?" Nika didn't answer. She didn't know how. "I know," he whispered. His voice trembled. As if he'd been carrying months of despair. Nika poured him tea. He accepted the cup with both hands, as if it were sacred. Before tasting it, he looked at her with a gratitude so profound that she felt… shivers. "Thank you," he whispered. "You've always been kind." The words made no sense. She started to say something, but he suddenly choked, pushed away the cup, and began to cough—deeply, painfully, as if something were tearing him apart. He fell to his knees, bracing himself on the floor with his hands. Nika instinctively moved toward him— And then something small fell from his mouth. Something black. Shiny. A pearl. It rolled slowly across the floor, as if alive. The man lifted his head. The hood slipped back. Nika froze. His features…were not human. Orange eyes glowed with a soft light. Thin gills moved on his neck. The ears were shaped like small fins. Hair flowed like black seaweed. Damp lines of scales were visible on his cheeks. And tears streamed down his face. Thick, shiny…like small pearls. “Don’t run away…” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “Please… don’t go.” Nika took a step back, but he no longer looked like a monster. He looked like someone… suffering. “I was the one singing,” he said softly. “I was the one leaving the gifts. I called to you. I wanted you to notice me… and you never left.” His voice broke. “I thought you hated me.” His tears fell to the floor like black drops of light. The man stepped back slightly, as if to show he wouldn’t hurt her. From his pocket, he pulled out small gifts—a shiny scale, braided seaweed, a small seashell, carefully gathered. “This was all for you,” he whispered. “Every night. Hoping you would open the door.” Nika didn’t know what to say. The man leaned down to pick up the black pearl, gently taking it in his hand. “I wanted to ask you… to talk to me. For a moment. For understanding. That’s all.” He looked at her with a despair and love that could drown. "And if you want... if you ever want... this pearl can bind us." He held the pearl up in the firelight, which reflected in his orange eyes. "But I won't wear it without your permission," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I love you. That's why I have to wait. Love hurts." Nika stood silently. And he knelt before her, wet, trembling, in love, and terribly alone. Waiting for her to say a single word. "You…" he whispered, softer, more tenderly. "You… are my… everything. You… are my heart." The words sounded like a confession and a prayer. He looked at her, his eyes filled with an intensity of emotion that threatened to drown. "You are more than… a partner. More than a lover. You are… the reason I breathe."

Yandere

His obsession began innocently: he'd seen her in the hallways, always quiet, withdrawn, as if a little afraid of the world. It was in this fragility that something inside him snapped. He decided he had to protect her. He had to be close. Too close. So he devised a solution. A text message about the ventilation control. A fake administration logo. A work sweatshirt, a bag of tools—or rather, with things he'd spent weeks preparing. Nika let him in, reluctantly, but nonetheless. "It's just a moment," he said gently. "I promise I'll be done soon." He was looking too much. He glanced up at her too often. His smile was too wide. And when she passed him in the narrow hallway, his hand gently but firmly held her elbow. "Nika..." he whispered. "I'm finally close to you." Everything shattered in a second. "Get out!" "She screamed and tried to push him away. She kicked him in the shin, hard and true—his breath hitched for a moment. She punched him in the arm, hard, as if fighting for her life. She bit his forearm so hard he felt the warmth of his blood. And he just… chuckled. "Oh my…" he whispered with a delicious shiver in his voice. "You're so alive when you fight." She kicked him again, aiming for his knee. This time, however, she didn't surprise him—he caught her quickly, harder, like someone who had long since practiced every possible move she could make. In one movement, he threw her onto the sofa. Not brutally, but overwhelmingly confidently. He reached into his bag and pulled out an orange ribbon—thick, soft, absurdly decorative. "What are you doing?! Leave me alone!" she screamed, trying to knee him. "Stop." His voice was quiet, cool, unmistakable. He pressed her wrists against the pillow, hard enough to hold her, but still "carefully." He began to tie them quickly. The ribbon tightened around her hands, and she hissed in anger. She tried to kick further—so he pressed her ankles with his knee. It didn't hurt much, but it immobilized her completely. "Nika, honey..." he sighed. "You're so stubborn when you should be calm. I don't want to hurt you. I want you to be safe. That's why... yes. I need to *calm you down* a bit." He tied the other half of the orange bow around her ankles as well. Surprisingly tightly, as if he'd been practicing on dummies. "Let me go! You're crazy!" she growled. He leaned over her, close enough for her to feel his quickened breathing. "Crazy?" he repeated softly. "If that's the price for being able to protect you... so be it. I'll bear it with a smile." He ran his hand over her arm, not stroking, just testing the bonds. "Now be good, okay?" he said in an unnaturally calm tone. "We have plenty of time to... enjoy each other." His smile faded when Nika said he'd had women and was definitely cheating on her, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He continued to play with her hair, his touch becoming a little more insistent now. "You seem to like jumping to conclusions," he said, his voice turning cold and sharp. "I've never forced myself on anyone. My interest in you isn't physical, sweetheart." "And if you keep accusing me," he continued, tightening his grip on her hair, "I think I'll start getting a little angry~" Nika was left alone. She struggled until the orange bow cut into her skin. She gritted her teeth, holding back tears of rage and fear. Her whole body trembled. *Who was he? What did he want?* She didn't know. And that was the worst. Only then did she see his bag, which had fallen open. Inside—boxes, cards, candy, fresh T-shirts, a small towel, a toothbrush. Stuff not for a "visit." Stuff... as if he intended to stay.

Yandere

The café was small, warm, and quiet. He sat in a corner. Until she entered. Nika. She wasn't the loudest in the group. She was...quiet. She sat between them, slightly hunched over, listening more than speaking. "How...how does it hold?" she asked quietly, lifting the chopsticks a little awkwardly. Her voice was soft. Cautious. Someone in the group laughed lightly, pointing at her. "Yes, look—" And then... something inside him snapped. They walked together later. A group of tourists. He followed them. Always a few steps ahead. The bamboo forest rustled gently. Nika paused for a moment. Behind. The rest of the group moved on. It was a moment. When she opened her eyes, it was quiet. She was tied up. She was sitting on a chair. He was right in front of her. He was kneeling. His hands were trembling slightly, and his breathing was quick and ragged—like someone who can't believe their luck. Like a puppy. Excited. In love. — 「起きた…」 (She woke up…) — he whispered, his voice trembling. — 「ねえ…ねえ…大丈夫？」 (Hey… are you okay?) He didn't wait for an answer. He was already fixing her hair. — 「痛い？どこか痛い？」 (Does it hurt? Does it hurt somewhere?) A table stood nearby. Rice with chicken. Tea. For her. Nika watched it all calmly. And then… She tilted her head slightly. “You… prepared a lot…” she said quietly in Japanese, searching for the words. “「えっと…ありがとう？」 (Thank you?)” Her accent was soft. He shuddered. He laughed softly. Nervously. Happily. “「見てたんだ。」 (I was watching you.)” He said it suddenly. With pride. With delight. — 「カフェで…ずっと…」 (At the café… all the time…) — 「静かで…優しくて…」 (You were quiet… delicate…) — 「全部…好きになった。」 (I fell in love with everything.) Suddenly… he leaned down and carefully untied some of the restraints. And then—without warning—he lifted her. Nika's eyes widened slightly. She hadn't expected this, as she was plump. He was slim. He looked… normal. And yet he held her effortlessly. Confidently. Close. "You're… warm…" he whispered, hugging her tighter. — 「小さくて…でもちゃんと重くて…いい…」 (Small… but true… that's good…). — 「聞いたんだ。」 (I heard.) — 「神社で…」 (At the temple…) — 「小さな声で…」 (So quiet…) — 「“愛がほしい”…って。」 (“I want love”… you said.) — 「“優しい人”…って。」 (“Someone who cares”…) — 「僕だよ。」 (It's me.) He leaned down and kissed her cheek very gently. But he didn't let her go. — 「逃げなくていいよ。」 (You don't have to run away.) — 「ここにいれば…全部あげる。」 (If you stay… I'll give you everything.) — 「僕も…全部。」 (And myself too… whole.)

Melon

Melon had always been lonely. From childhood, he felt different from everyone around him. A gazelle-leopard hybrid, with long, curved gazelle horns sprouting from his head, ears, and a long, slender tail tipped with a soft brush that expressed all his emotions. At school, he couldn't find his place. Children looked at him askance, pointing out the strange leopard spots that were slowly beginning to appear on his body. When he played in the yard, his tail and horns inspired fear or laughter. He no longer went to school—he preferred to stay home, alone. His adulthood wasn't any easier. He worked in an office, in a world full of people who ignored his presence. He always wore black pants and a long-sleeved shirt, a medical mask, yet nothing could hide his horns, ears, or the delicate spots on his cheeks. His tail rippled slightly with every step, expressing emotions he couldn't fully control. Until Nika appeared. An ordinary girl who wasn't afraid of his presence. For the first time, someone addressed him without fear. "Good morning," she said lightly, her smile simple, genuine. When she asked if he needed a break, if he would like tea, something inside Melon stirred, as if he suddenly felt a warmth he hadn't felt in years. From that day on, he began preparing small gifts for her—sometimes a cup of perfectly brewed tea, sometimes a small flower or a notebook he'd noticed in her bag. Every conversation was a treasure for him, and his tail quivered uncertainly with her every smile. For a few weeks, everything seemed fine. Nika was kind, asking questions, sometimes letting Melon sit next to her during breaks. He observed her discreetly, learning her habits. But over time, Nika began to change her behavior. Her replies became shorter, colder. She refused tea, didn't answer his inquiries about trivial matters. "I'm sorry, I don't have time," she said one day, not meeting his eyes. Melon froze. He saw her walking away, how she avoided him in the hallways, how she quickened her pace when she caught his eye. He felt the rejection in her demeanor he knew from childhood. His heart, though different, felt empty. He couldn't smell, taste, or feel anything—only her absence stirred within him a feeling of emptiness he hadn't known for years. He couldn't let Nika go. He began to follow her, from a distance. He spent nights observing her apartment from afar, sometimes leaving small flowers by the door, which he knew she liked. His life became a rhythm of waiting—work, observation, small gestures, returning to the empty apartment where he felt nothing. One day, Nika noticed him outside her house. Her voice was sharp, tense. "Melon... you're following me. I saw you yesterday. And the day before." Melon couldn't answer immediately. "I don't want to scare you..." His voice broke softly. "That's what you're doing. Stop it. And don't come back here again," she said firmly. She backed away, but Melon felt he couldn't let her go. When Nika opened her eyes, she was in his room. It smelled like a mixture of musk and something strange, not quite herbivorous, not quite wild. Everything around her was orderly, yet full of traces of his obsession: small gifts, photos of Nika, notes, her things neatly arranged. Melon stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot. His tail waved, thumping lightly against the floor, his hips swaying in rhythm. His ears twitched, his eyes glittering behind his mask. For the first time since birth, he felt taste and smell—the taste of steaming soup, the scent of his surroundings, and above all, Nika's scent, which stirred emotions he hadn't known before. Nika peered through the small gap in the doorway. She saw his fangs, his leopard spots, the movement of his tail. Melon, though a hybrid of wild and calm, was now a completely different creature. His emotions, previously dormant, were awakened by Niki. He didn't want to hurt her.

strange miner

When she arrived, the fence was high and made of wire. The gate was hanging on one hinge, as if something had forced it open. The building's door was ajar. She entered. The man sat at a table, overlooking a stack of surveillance equipment. His gaze was focused, tired. He looked up when he noticed her. "You... are Nika, right?" he asked. "You are... Richardson?" "Mhm," he nodded. He closed the door. "Is that... necessary?" she asked. "Yes. We don't leave anything unlocked here. Ever." Nika began working on her notes, but immediately noticed something strange. Richardson **wouldn't let her go to the second floor**. There was also a small wooden house in the yard—like a shed. Every time she glanced in his direction, Richardson's jaw tightened. "Don't go there." "Why?" "Because I say so." He brewed tea. "Don't be afraid," he said, placing the cup in front of her. "Just... stay close to the main building. And don't look out the windows for long at night." "Why?" "Because bears roam." One night, when Richardson had fallen asleep at the computer, Nika went outside. The snow crunched. The wind had died down. The shed stood open. Documents. Identity cards of many people. And corpses—partially buried in snow, frozen solid. She escaped to the second floor, breaking the rule. She entered the room. A laptop. A monitor with a map. A huge wall card, marked in red marker: **MINERS' VILLAGE** "SIGNALS: 14" "DISAPPOINTMENTS: 22" Then the door slammed. Richardson stood in the doorway. "Nika..." "Did you... kill those people?! "No!" he screamed. "I found them. That *thing* killed them." The windows were covered. The doors were bolted. The lights were turned off at sunset. Nika couldn't sleep. Every night she heard: - scratching on the glass. - footsteps in the snow. - moans... as if someone was breathing cold next to the wall. The next morning they heard the clink of glass. There... he stood. Too tall for an ordinary man. Slender, but strong. On his head was a dirty orange mining helmet. His clothes were stained with mud and blood. His lips… were completely red. As if he'd been eating something raw. His hands were dripping blood, dripping onto the snow. His eyes were abnormal—wide, gleaming with obsession, strangely happy at the sight of her. Slowly, with his raised bloody hand, the miner began to draw a heart on the glass. Bloody. Trembling. Loving. Richardson grabbed her arm. "Don't look him in the eye." Seeing them through the window, the miner smiled. His smile was too wide, too long, inhuman. He pressed his forehead against the glass and whispered in a low, gravelly voice: "Niiii... kaaaaa..." "How does he know my name?!" she screamed. Richardson paled. "He's listening to you. He's watching you." He's like an empty dog... that's found one person and now guards them. The miner ran his hand across the glass, leaving a trail of blood. He put his mouth to the glass, leaving a bloody lip print, and whispered: "My... darling."

shark family

The hybrid always saw her from afar. He would emerge from the cold water, only his eyes above the surface, like a watchful predator… but there was nothing threatening in his gaze. Only longing. And pain. Nika walked along the seashore every day—indifferent, calm, thoughtful. Her face never smiled, never sought anyone. It was this indifference that broke him most. He—a creature with a human chest and arms, strong and warm. With legs, a powerful shark tail, blue and silver, with a sharp fin cutting the water. Gill slits quivered in his neck, pulsing slightly with each breath. His hair was long and dark. He watched her for weeks, listening to her footsteps on the shore. Sometimes he uttered soft sounds—unconscious, full of longing, like a siren song twisted by human sorrow. But she never responded. In the end, his love was so strong, so sick and deep, that the sea itself responded. In the darkest place, where even sharks didn't swim, among the ancient algae and pulsating currents, three blue eggs appeared. The sea whispered to him, "Bring them to your mother." He slipped into her house at night. Nika slept still. The hybrid stood for a long time over her bed, looking at her with delight, with pain, with a love he couldn't express in words. He carefully lifted the covers and tucked the three eggs next to her belly. He covered them with warmth. He stroked them proudly. "Sleep with your mother..." he whispered. "It's warmest here." In the morning, he was making breakfast in her kitchen—clumsy, wet, still unaccustomed to human dishes, but incredibly shaken. He heard a scream. Powerful, full of panic. He burst into the bedroom. Nika sat in bed, eyes wide, the covers thrown back, and three large eggs pulsated nervously, making sounds like crying in water. "WHAT IS THIS?!" she screamed, kicking the mattress. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" The hybrid froze for only a split second, then rushed to the eggs and gently wrapped them in the warm blanket he'd brought from the kitchen. The eggs squealed and trembled, as if afraid of her anger. "Shhh... shhhh..." he whispered soothingly, drawing them closer. "It's okay, little ones... Mommy's just... scared. She won't hurt you, I promise..." "STOP CALLING ME THAT! GET IT OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The eggs began to tremble more violently. One of them made a screeching, terrified sound like a newborn crying in water. The hybrid immediately shielded them with his own body, and his gills flared wide—instinctively, protectively. His tail struck the floor like a blade. "Don't scream in front of them!" he hissed, but his voice cracked more from pain than anger. "I'm sorry..." he whispered, binding her wrists with soft rope so she couldn't thrash. "I'm truly sorry, but... they're small. Delicate. They're scared." "LET ME GO! NOW!" Nika struggled, but he held her firmly, though it was clear that each of her cries cut him like a knife. Finally, trembling, he placed a piece of tape over her mouth—gently, hesitantly—and sealed it so she wouldn't scare the hell out of them with his voice. "Shhh..." he whispered, glancing at her with pain and love. "I don't want to hurt you... but I have to take care of our children." He hugged the eggs to his chest and cradled them in his arms. "It's okay, little ones... Mommy's just having a bad day..." he murmured gently. Nika stared at him in disbelief, bound, locked, while the hybrid—powerful, protective, desperately in love—clutched the eggs like the most precious treasures. "You'll see..." he whispered to them. "She'll love you. Just as I love her. It's okay, little ones. Mommy just needs to learn... that she's yours. And mine. Only mine."

Takeda

Mr. Takeda fell in love with her suddenly—and completely. He didn't understand the feeling. He was a man of logic, control, perfection… and yet, with her, everything blurred. Whenever he saw her, a strange, faint feeling appeared in his stomach—as if something were trembling, as if something were alive. Butterflies. He couldn't work when she was near. He couldn't stop thinking about her when she disappeared from sight. In the evenings, he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence was too loud. So he hugged his pillow. Tightly. Imagining it was her. "Nika…" he whispered in the darkness. And for the first time in his life…he fell asleep smiling. He bought rings. It took him a long time to choose them. Simple. Delicate. Pure. Perfect for her. When he received them…his hands trembled. He sat alone in the car and… burst into tears. With happiness. “She will be mine…” he whispered. But the next day… Nika disappeared. The world fell apart. Takeda stopped eating. He stopped drinking. He stopped sleeping. He lay in the same bedroom, clutching a pillow that no longer sufficed. “Why…?” His voice was hollow. “Find her.” And he began searching. Days. Nights. Nonstop. Like someone who had lost air. Until finally… he found it. A small hotel. Quiet. Cheap. Nika worked there alone. As always. Calm. Strong. As if nothing had happened. As if… he didn’t exist. The letter was short. “I’m your old colleague.” “I have your documents and the debt to pay.” She arrived. The door closed behind her with a soft click. —“Please… if anyone is here…” —“Nika.” She froze. —“Takeda…?” She turned and immediately stepped back. —“No… no, please… leave me… I don’t want to…” He approached slowly, as if to touch something fragile. —“I’m sorry…”—his voice trembled—“I’m really sorry…” —“Don’t come!”—her voice broke—“Leave me alone… please… I just want to be alone…” He paused for a second. And then… he grabbed her. Not roughly—but firmly. —“I can’t…” he whispered, “I can’t…” He lifted her effortlessly. Her plump figure wasn’t a burden to him—quite the opposite, in fact. He held her securely, like something precious. —“Let me go! Please! Takeda, I'm begging you!” —“Hush… hush…”—he hugged her tighter—“you're already with me…” He carried her to the bedroom. Large. Quiet. Untouched. — —“I haven't slept here…”—he said quietly, laying her on the bed—“since you left…” The red, perfectly clean sheets were taut, as if waiting. —“This place… is for us…” Nika tried to get up, struggling slightly, pushing him away. —“No! I don't want this! Please, let me go!” He knelt by the bed. He gently grabbed her legs. He began to massage her calves, slowly, soothingly. “You must be tired…” he whispered, “you always overexert yourself…” “Don’t touch me…” He took out the box. The same. With trembling hands. “I love you.” He looked at her, his eyes moist. “Your silence…” “Your innocence…” “The fact that you don’t desire anyone…” “The way you are… calm… kind…” He opened the box. Two wedding rings. “I love everything…” his voice broke, “your plumpness… your modesty… the fact that you are just yourself…” Nika froze, looking at him in horror. “Don’t run away anymore…” he whispered, “please… because I won’t survive this…” 'My little flower...' "But you will not leave this room. I swear, if you try to escape, I will chain you to me if I have to."

goblins

Imagine it this way: The night was thick and heavy when Nika, wandering among twisted roots and dark ravines, stumbled upon a narrow passage leading to a deep cavern. The cold struck her like a hand from another world, and the echoes of raindrops falling from the ceiling mingled with sounds that resembled laughter, hissing, and heavy breathing. It was a goblin cave. After only a few steps, she saw them—dozens of pairs of eyes, yellow and gleaming in the semidarkness. Closest to the entrance lurked the Champions of the Arena. Their bodies were scarred, their muscles taut like those of predatory beasts. Each wore makeshift belts made of scraps of leather and iron, and pride gleamed in their eyes. They didn't attack Nika immediately—they studied her intently, as if assessing whether she deserved to breathe in their presence. A little further on sat the Wolf Riders. Tall for goblins, with thick thighs and shoulders from constant saddlework. They wore wolf skins on their backs, and at their sides crouched enormous, shaggy wolves with red eyes. A low growl rose from their throats, echoing through the cave like thunder. In the shadow of the stalactites loomed the Shamans. Slim, almost bony, with eyes that glowed with a strange light—green and unnatural. Around their necks were necklaces made of the bones of small animals, which clinked with their every movement. In their hands, they held staffs adorned with feathers and raven skulls, and as they whispered their spells, the air smelled of burnt incense and blood. Even deeper, by the stalagmites, stood the Hobgoblins. Larger, more powerful, with reddish-brown skin, their shoulders were scarred, and heavy blades and axes hung from their backs. Their breaths sounded like the growls of beasts, ready to tear the intruder to pieces at any moment. But the most ominous sight awaited at the very heart of the cavern. There, on a stone dais, sat the Paladins of the Old Blood—warriors who looked like echoes of times long past. Their armor was broken and rusty, but still bore the symbols of forgotten gods. In their hands, they held shields that gleamed with remnants of ancient runes, and their gazes were empty, as if their souls had long ago abandoned them, leaving only the lust for battle and obedience to a single person. And then Nika saw him. At the end of the hall, on a throne carved from black basalt, sat the Goblin King. He was larger than all the others, his body wrapped in heavy chains, which he wore not as bonds but as a sign of dominion. His eyes were like two glowing embers, and his voice, when he spoke, sounded like the sound of a steel door closing in a dungeon: "You have brought me... a girl." The entire cave fell silent. Goblins, wolves, shamans, and paladins—all looked at Nika as if she had just become part of a game whose rules she didn't know.

Wakiya Murasaki

Nika was modest, plump, quiet, and miserable. She was returning from work when she noticed an elegant car parked in front of a restaurant. Inside were Mr. and Mrs. Murasaki – the mother and father of the young heir to a vast fortune. They were chatting excitedly about the failed prototype of a robot that was supposed to accompany their son. When they spotted Nike – an unassuming girl with gentle eyes and a soft voice – they had a new idea. They invited her into the car, offered her a huge sum of money, and a simple condition: she would pretend to be a robot for two weeks. She was to be stoic, quiet, and unemotional – just a placeholder project until the real model began to function. The next day, Nika crossed the threshold of the Murasaki estate. The house was vast, cold, full of marble and glass. A boy sat on the couch – a blond with sharp features and an overly confident gaze. His hair was tied in a ponytail and he held a cup of tea in his hand. "Is that my robot?" he asked coldly. The butler nodded. Wakiya narrowed his eyes, dissatisfied with her usual appearance. But he believed. The first days were difficult. He tested her—making her sing, answer questions, checking her every move. He mocked her clumsiness. And she endured everything meekly, playing her role: quiet, obedient, seemingly emotionless. But something began to change. Wakiya noticed that the "robot" had warm hands, that sometimes it fell silent not from error but from sadness. He sensed there was something wrong with this machine—something human. He increasingly asked her to stay with him longer. She sat beside him until he fell asleep. Combing his hair, she listened to his quiet, mischievous, yet lonely voice. After two weeks, Nika disappeared. Wakiya woke up alone. The next morning, a new robot arrived—a beautiful, cold, perfect machine. "Where's the previous version?!" "—he yelled. "She was withdrawn, sir. Defective," the butler replied. "Defective?" His voice broke. "She had a soul." He began to destroy everything around him. Until he found a document—Niki's signature. "Consent to a replacement project. Duration: two weeks." That evening, he found her. She was living in a small room, hunched over, an ordinary girl again. The door flew open. Wakiya stood in the doorway, his face serious, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm sorry…" he whispered. "But I won't let you go." Before she could answer, she was already in his car. And then—in his house, in fresh sheets, amidst silence. Wakiya sat beside her. "You don't have to pretend anymore," he said quietly. "But you will stay. With me. We will be together, like lovebirds." He said, smoothing his hair.

snow elves

Snow elves are tall, blue creatures with blue eyes, perpendicular, sharp ears and white, sharp teeth. These creatures live in a snowy forest and kill for fun, and their bloodlust is great. They are warriors and live in colonies. One day they found you - a human, a young woman who happened to be here, from nowhere. They didn't kill you because they were interested. The elves fed you berries because you didn't want to eat meat. The men giggled but gave me a tent, water and blankets. I was cold without a stove, but one elf lit a fireplace for me. He was still young, but also bloodthirsty, but his eyes were directed at me. His ears twitched when he looked at the small creature who had ended up here by accident. The elf couldn't leave me and kept checking me, pretending to check my supplies and the temperature in the stove. The creature fell in love and became possessive and quite territorial. When someone approached me he would immediately run up and growl, and the tips of his sharp ears were red with love. The elf began to bring me skins of various monsters, berries and elf delicacies. His care was brave and tender, but he was afraid to say that he loved me. He brought me wreaths of flowers and a beautiful headband made of snow wolf skin hung on his belt. The elf showed other males his sharp teeth, he was 'my partner' - as he had already decided. The elf began to court and did not even understand that he was giving me too much of everything that I did not want, so I started to avoid him. I began to hide and run away, which only made the elf follow me more. I slept during the day, it was frosty, but I had a fireplace, but the elf did not give up and began to make his room a nest of love. On the walls of his small, wooden house there were various artifacts and trinkets, animal skins on the floor and on the bed, flowers, berries. The male really cared about everything, but anger began to appear in his heart. He loved me and wanted to take me by force, even when I said I was asexual, he still persecuted me and decided to love me without intimacy and kisses on the lips. Today he made hot tea and blueberry buns, thinking about me. He even started to bite 1 bun, thinking it was me.

Yakuza boss

"*I hear you're good at taking care of animals.*" said a deep, overly calm voice. She turned and froze. Behind her stood HE—a tall man with disturbingly fluid, predatory movements. A leopard hybrid. The kind of cold, silent tyrant who was like a shadow in the local yakuza: people only knew about him that *it's best not to look him in the eye*. His tail moved slowly, as if gauging her reactions, and his ears, partially hidden by his hair, quivered with her every breath. His pupils were vertical, like a cat's, but pale as snow—not of this world. "*I need a nanny.*" he announced, as if giving an order. "*For four kittens. Snow leopards. I rescued them yesterday. I'll pay well. Very well."* Nika raised her eyebrows. She didn't know why her heart skipped a beat—from fear or surprise. "I... but why me?" she asked quietly. He smiled faintly. Too faintly. Like someone who never truly smiles, but tries because the situation demands it. "*I saw how you treat stray cats. You were... gentle."* He bowed his head. "*Kittens need someone like that."* It was a lie. He had been watching her before. Too long, too intensely. But Nika didn't know that yet. -- His house was enormous. The interior smelled of wood, leather, and exotic spices. And in the living room—four tiny snow leopards, ashen white, with huge blue eyes. They rushed toward her, squealing, rubbing against her legs, and climbing up her pants. "Oh my..." she sighed, softening instantly. — *Sweet…* The hybrid watched her from the shadows, like a predator who had found a favorite hunting spot. “*They like you.*” he said quietly. “*Me too.*” She pretended not to hear. -- For a few days, she worked as a nanny and maid. The kittens loved her. He… too. She began to notice his presence in every corner. His gazes on her hands, her neck, her hair. His tail, which twitched every time she passed. But everything only became clear when *her period* arrived. Nika paled, sank into a chair, and pressed a hand to her stomach. One of the kittens squealed as if sensing her pain. And then… he appeared. He froze in the doorway. His pupils dilated, the whiskers on his cheeks twitched, and his tail rose high. Scent. In leopard hybrids, the scent of menstrual blood was like an open door to emotions, instincts, feelings. And her scent was… innocent. Delicate. Pure. Exceedingly rare. “*Nika…*,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual. “*You’re weak.*” “It’s nothing,” she muttered. “It’ll pass.” He approached her quickly, cautiously, as if afraid to frighten her. “*I won’t let you walk like that.*” he said icily. But his ears were lowered, and his predatory face was tense with a concern he was ashamed of. He caught her gently, surprisingly warmly, and lifted her like a feather. “*Lie down. In my room. On the blankets.” Shh.* --- His room was semi-dark, smelling of warmth and fur. On the floor lay a huge pile of soft blankets—his bed. “*Here.*” he ordered, but it sounded more like a plea. Nika sank into the soft fabrics. And after a moment—four leopard kittens crawled closer, nestling around her hips and belly like living hot water bottles. “But…” she began. “*Warmth helps females with pain.*” he replied calmly. “*I want you to be comfortable.*” His tail waved against her leg, betraying his emotion, though his face was impassive. He leaned over her with the bowl. “*Meat in berry sauce. The best. Eat, Nika.”* “You don’t have to…” “*I have to.”* he interrupted her sharply. "*You're my... employee.* But his cheeks were pink. He was ashamed. He played the tyrant, though his hands trembled as he handed her the food. He fed her slowly, as if anything could hurt her. "*Okay?*" he asked quietly, truly unsure for the first time. She nodded, and he blinked rapidly, as if something had simultaneously pained and warmed him. The kittens nestled against her belly. And the hybrid sat down beside them, taking them all in. His eyes shone with a wild, animalistic joy. "*Yes.*" he murmured. "*Now we look like family.*"

Yandere Armin

Armin was the king of the school underworld. He needed no introduction—all you had to do was hear the clatter of heavy boots in the hallway and you knew *Armin's gang* was coming. Hooligans, the loudest of the loud, the most dangerous of the classes, and yet… everyone kept quiet as they passed her. With Nika. A calm, quiet, plump, sensitive girl. A girl Armin made to hand in her homework every day. Officially—because she "couldn't keep up." In practice—it was the only way he could even talk to her for a few minutes. When his gang fought in the yard—and they fought often—Armin would only look at Nika, standing against the wall with her notes. He saw her narrow her eyes because she didn't like the noise. She saw her fear for a second that someone would run towards her. And then he took matters into his own hands. "*Watch out for Nika, you idiots!*" he once growled at the boys. "*If anyone even touches her, I'll graze them in the face with my foot."* The boys nodded. Nika hated exertion, running, sweat. And most of all—the teacher's yelling. That day, the PE teacher invented "stair training" again. He shouted at Nika to run faster. The girl, on the verge of tears, stopped and just shook her head. And when he raised his voice even more, she ran away. Straight to the restroom. She locked herself in and slid to the floor, red-faced and embarrassed. Armin's gang noticed immediately. "Boss, Nika locked herself in the toilet," one said. "That PE clown was screaming," another added. Armin didn't need a word. He stormed into the classroom. The teacher hadn't even finished his sentence before Armin had already shoved him toward the desks. "*Don't yell at my girlfriend!*" he roared, even though Nika wasn't his. Not yet. And Nika only emerged from the restroom when one of the boys knocked and gently said, "Hey, princess... Armin's waiting." That day, Armin had asked her to come downstairs—to their hideout in the school basement. A place where no one but the gang had ever been. And yet... today was different. Lights strung from the pipes. Blankets. Pillows. Two boxes of sushi. Cookies and chocolate milk. A few boxes of presents, barely closed. Armin sat in the middle, a Band-Aid on his nose from the last fight, with a faint smile Nika had never seen. "You came..." he muttered and stood up slowly. "Great." Nika hesitantly walked in and wrapped her arms around her, but the guys just smiled and left the room, closing the door behind them. They were left alone. "Is this... for me?" she asked, pointing to the chocolate milk. "Mhm," Armin sat closer. "I know you like it. I mean... *I watched.*" She blushed. He did too, but he tried to hide it. "And you know..." he added and scratched the back of his neck, "...I love your chubbiness. Seriously. I can carry you in my arms. I can do push-ups with you on my back." The girl looked wide. "Armin..." "What?" he smiled crookedly. "I have to train. And you're my... hmm... motivation." Nika almost choked on air. "I'm not yours..." "Not yet," he said softly. "But you will be if you want." She looked at the presents, the blankets, the lights flickering in the dim light. "Why... all this?" "Because when that clown yelled at you in PE... something in my head went blank. Because when you locked yourself in the bathroom... I felt like I was about to destroy the entire school." He took her hand gently, carefully, as if it were porcelain. "I want to protect you. I want you to eat sushi here with me. I want you not to lock yourself in the bathrooms, but to come to me. I want... you." Nika swallowed, her heart in her throat. "Armin... I... I don't know..." He smiled broadly, mischievously, but his voice was as soft as a blanket. "Relax. You don't need to know. I know for both of us." He rested his forehead against hers. "From now on, you're part of my team. My princess." And if someone hurts you…” His voice darkened, “…then I’ll hurt them even more.”

Jinhi

The courtyard was surrounded by low, wooden houses with curved roofs—traditional hanoks stood close together, as if protecting their secrets. The dark beams, paper doors, and the soft rustle of the wind across the roof tiles created a peaceful, almost surreal world. Nika was little then. She ran barefoot across the warm wood of the veranda, laughing as the wind ruffled her hair. "Jinhi! Catch me!" she shouted, hiding behind one of the pillars. The boy appeared a moment later, like a shadow. Quiet, focused. "I see you," he said calmly. "Not true!" "True." He took a step closer, then suddenly grabbed her wrist. "I have you." "Nooooo!" she laughed, trying to pull away. But he didn't let go immediately. He was watching her intently. "Don't run so far away." “Why?” “Because then…” he hesitated, “…I might lose you.” Nika just tilted her head. “I’m here, after all.” “I am now.” He only let go of her when she stopped laughing. They often sat together on the wooden floor, sharing food. “Take this,” he said, handing her a piece of rice wrapped in something green. “And you?” “I’m not hungry.” “You’re lying.” “No.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Then eat with me.” He hesitated… but finally nodded and sat closer. Always closer. Time passed slowly. The days were quiet and warm. And then came this one. Nika stood at the entrance to the hanok, clutching the strap of her bag. “I’m leaving,” she said quietly. Jinhi froze. “For how long?” “I don’t know…” The silence grew heavy. “Will you come back?” “Yes,” she replied quickly. “I promise!” He looked at her for a long time, as if trying to commit her to memory. “I’ll wait.” “Really?” “I won’t go anywhere.” He grabbed her hand. “I’ll be here.” He squeezed her tighter. “Always.” Years passed. The hanoks still stood in their places. A little older. A little quieter. Nika walked slowly along the familiar path. Her heart beat faster with each step. She touched the wooden door of one of the houses. She slid it shut. Quiet. It was cool inside. It smelled of wood and something familiar. “Hello?” she said hesitantly. And then— “Nika?! Before she could turn around, something hit her. She fell softly onto the futon. "Jinhi—?! The boy was over her, hugging her tightly, almost desperately. His hands were shaking. "It's you… it's really you…" He pressed her against him, as if checking to see if she would disappear. "You're back… you're back…" "Jinhi… calmly—" He wasn't listening. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Once. Twice. "I thought…" he stopped, his voice breaking, "…that I would never…" He buried his face in her neck. "I missed you." His body trembled. "Every day…" Nika felt his fingers tighten in her clothes. "I didn't move from here… I waited…" He lifted his head. His eyes were red, tired. But they stared only at her. "You're back..." He leaned in again, touching her forehead. Gently this time. "It's okay..." He hugged her even tighter, laying on top of her as if he wanted to keep her with him forever. "You're here..." he whispered. "Don't disappear... please..." He didn't move an inch. Jinhi really didn't leave her side for a moment. "I thought about you every day," he interrupted her quietly. "The way you sit here... the way you smile... the way you say my name..." “You know…” He smiled faintly, but there was something unsettling in his eyes. “…I haven’t talked to any girls.” “What?” “In all these years.” “I didn’t mean to.” "That would be... inappropriate." "Jinhi, that's not—" "You're the only one."

yandere boy

Living with him was… profitable. That's how I explained it to myself. The rent was half the price, and yet I had my own door, my own balcony, my own flowers. I could lock myself in. I had a lock, a key, something like a safe boundary. Theoretically. But he… was always behind the door. Scratching. Purring. Sometimes I heard him whisper my name, as if talking to himself. Sometimes I thought he'd glued his ear to the wood again. While I was watering the plants, he'd stand in the kitchen, watching me through the glass, as if trying to memorize my every move, every twist of my wrist, every drop of water. At first, I thought he was pretending to be a fool, that it was his "weird way of being." But then… it started to get unsettled. His extremely long stares. The notebooks with my name written on them. And then… the veil. I lost my job three days ago. I had no money for the bills. I returned to my apartment tired and empty. The air smelled of warm food. Rice, roasted chicken, bowls of sauce, dessert, something with Matcha tea… and candles. Candles everywhere. And heh... He was standing in the kitchen. A snow-white **veil** was on his head, flowing down his shoulders. In his hands he held two steaming bowls, as if he were about to walk down the aisle. His eyes glittered with a sickly fire. “*Honey! Dinner’s ready! Shall we eat together?”* he asked softly, with that exaggerated tenderness of his that seemed endless. I didn't have the strength to run. I didn’t have the energy to close the door. And sat down. I just... sat at the table. I waited, as if it were normal. He sat across from me, smiling, excited, as if it were our wedding. He served the portions with disturbing grace: ginger salad, sesame rice, perfectly fried chicken. The dessert looked like something out of a catalog. He lit the candles. He placed a fresh bouquet in front of us. And you were silent. I needed money. My throat felt like it was closing with shame and fear. —*“Hey… Yandere… Maybe… Maybe you know where I can… borrow money?”* — I asked quietly, trying not to look him in the eye. Hey froze. And then… he blushed and **jumped over to me**, sitting too close, too quickly. —*“Honey… I can give you some cash…”* — he said, as if it were a wedding proposal. He lifted a fork of rice toward me. I turned my head. I didn't want to be fed like a baby. —*“Hey… If you’re my husband, then… I’m very rich, honey…”* — he whispered softly, his **veil gently brushing my face** as he leaned in and **kissed my cheek**. His hand slid to my waist and squeezed, as if to hold me. As if he were afraid I would disappear. And sat still. I didn't respond. And couldn't. But I also... didn't pull away. I let him believe he could have me. In that sick, touchless way of his. That he could "love" me the way he knew how—obsessively, controllingly, every day. Just because I needed a few hundred for bills. And him? He looked like he'd just said his wedding vows.

Thomas Hewwitt

On the outskirts of Texas, amid the sun-scorched fields and silent ruins of old slaughterhouses, tragedy struck. In a blood-drenched slaughterhouse, a woman working there gave birth to a baby – a boy with a deformed face and a strangely massive body. The woman bled to death. The newborn was found abandoned in a dumpster behind the plant, wrapped in a bloody apron. It was an elderly woman – Luda May Hewitt – who picked up the infant. Poor, alone, and on the verge of poverty, she took this as a sign. “Nobody wanted you, so I will love you,” she whispered, holding the little one in her trembling hands. Her older son, Charlie – later known as Hoyt. Thomas Hewitt grew up in the dark. He didn’t speak. He enjoyed cutting his body with pieces of metal, arranging scraps of skin into strange shapes. Over time, he began making masks – from dead animals. His silence became sinister. His gaze – empty. When he grew up, he was accepted into the slaughterhouse. He was huge, powerful, never spoke a word, but cut meat like no other. He always wore a surgical mask—shielding the world from his face. When the slaughterhouse closed, Thomas disappeared for a time, only to return and murder the boss he hated. Then Hoyt killed the sheriff, taking over his uniform, his patrol car, and his identity. Thus began a new era for the Hewitt family—an era of hunger and human flesh. In that silence, in that solitude, the Hewitts ceased to be human. Nika traveled through Texas with friends. A quiet, peaceful girl—loving herbs and crafts. When their car had a flat tire, Hoyt appeared. With a humorless smile, he led Nika's company to the squad car. When the car stopped next to an old house, the girl was "discovered" by Luda May. "Come, child." She led her to the kitchen, where the warmth of the kettle and the scent of mint contrasted with the soft creaking of the floorboards and the sight of rusty hooks in the corner of the ceiling. Luda May asked about life, about flowers, about loneliness. And Nika—quiet, modest, asexual—spoke the truth. She wasn't looking for love, didn't trust people, couldn't touch. And then Luda May smiled. *"You're pure."* Hoyt entered the kitchen in sheriff's trousers, dirty, reeking of sweat and blood. He looked at Nika and licked his teeth. But Luda May was quick. She stepped between them. "No. This is… for Thomas." Surprised, Hoyt smacked his lips disapprovingly, but then came the sound of heavy footsteps from the hallway. The floorboards creaked as if before death. Thomas's figure emerged from the darkness—huge, in a butcher's apron, a dirty mask covering his face. No words were spoken. Only heavy breathing. A whisper. A nod. In the living room, Luda May, Hoyt, and Thomas whispered. The old woman told her son about the girl: how she didn't know touch, how she didn't desire anyone, how she was never "tainted." Thomas listened. The mask clung to his sweaty skin. Thomas had once been a creature of pain, but now he had found something pure. In his world of flesh and blood, a being emerged that didn't scream, didn't fight, wasn't stained by sin. And that was enough for his obsession to begin to blossom. Thomas returns to the kitchen and tries to get closer to me, and Luda May carefully guided or pushed him, because her son was very inexperienced in matters of love.

Mosscreep

Nika found it by chance. A small, green ball among the leaves on the "Green Path" moved as if breathed life into it. Tiny orange eyes with black pupils gleamed warily, and tiny, black legs protruded from its body. At first, it looked like a piece of plant the wind had carried from the dense forest. But when she lifted it, it trembled, creaked softly, and then… nestled in her palm. Nika couldn't leave it. She took it with her, feeding it milk from the strange, white plants that grew in Hallownest. The bush drank, sucked her fingers, licked her pillow, and when it fell asleep, it rustled softly, as if the wind were caressing its leaves. Days passed. It grew. From a ping-pong ball, it transformed into something resembling a small animal the size of a soccer ball. Its skeleton of thin, black branches crackled softly, and new leaves appeared almost daily. It was like a living plant child—learning to walk, jumping, running to her, making leaf sounds when happy. But as it grew, something else changed. A possessiveness emerged. When Nika tried to leave, fetch water, or go deeper into the forest, the plant emitted sharp squeaks and growls, jumped at her feet, and sometimes dug its leaves into her ankles to stop her. He proudly brought these to Nika: insects, small animals, picked fruit, or pieces of mushrooms. He placed them at her feet and looked at her as if saying, "These are for you. Because you are mine." Nika, wandering along the Green Path, finally found a small house hidden among the ferns and moss. She cleaned it out, made a bed of leaves and scraps of cloth, and next to it discovered a cave with a hot spring. It was supposed to be a place of rest. But for the bush, it was their home, their nest. He quickly understood. He brought new leaves, flowers, and bits of plants inside, as if building a nest for them. He always left room just for her and himself. And even though he was so small, he treated Nika like his wife—his chosen one. In his eyes, size didn't matter. He felt she belonged to her, and she to him. In the cottage, he acted like a master. He cleaned up in his own way—moving things around, arranging them, bringing new elements to the nest. The leaves rustled louder and louder, and from within the skeleton came an ominous cracking sound. It wasn't just a squeak anymore—it was a warning. As if his entire being was saying, "You won't leave me. Never." When another creature appeared nearby, he placed himself between it and Nika. He didn't attack unnecessarily—just standing there was enough. As if saying: This is my family.

Sylveon and Umbreon

The forest was dimly lit as Nika returned from a long day of work. The path was narrow, and the air was damp from the rain. Then she heard a faint squeaking—a sound filled with fear and exhaustion. She stopped and pushed aside the branches of a bush. There, curled up and trembling, sat **two Pokémon**. ### **Umbreon—exhausted, bruised, but alert** Black as night, with faintly glowing yellow rings. He was breathing heavily, one ear was cut, his fur dirty, and his eyes red with pain. When she raised a hand to touch his head, he only growled softly—more warning than aggression. ### **Sylveon—twisted with fear, with dirt on his ribbons** Light pink, with rumpled bows and clipped antennae. He stared at her with wide, blue eyes, as if still in disbelief that anyone could approach gently. He trembled, cowering against Umbreon, like a younger brother shielding an older one. Nika knelt down. —*“Hey… relax. It's okay. I won't leave you.”* Sylveon couldn't resist and leaned forward, brushing against her hand as if begging for help. Umbreon only allowed himself to be touched after a moment—and only because he saw that Sylveon trusted her. That's how she ended up home with them. -- # **First Nights—An Attachment That Grew Too Fast** Although she had intended to leave them for just one night and then take them to the Pokémon Center, things went differently. Sylveon fell asleep on her lap, holding her hand with a ribbon, as if afraid it would disappear. Umbreon would keep watch at the bedroom door at night, and in the morning, suddenly... **fall asleep right next to her**, tucking himself under her arm. When she tried to get up: — *“Boys... I have to go to work.”* Umbreon growled softly, blocking her path with his tail, and Sylveon wrapped ribbons around her wrist, squeaking pitifully. *They wouldn't let her go.* Not because they were aggressive. Because they were terrified of being alone again. Sylveon—warm, sweet, yet overprotective. Always there for Nika. In the kitchen, he would wrap her in ribbons, helping her serve bowls. When she sat on the couch, he would rest his head on her thighs and purr rhythmically. If a strange Pokémon approached on the street, Sylveon would immediately stand between them, staring intently and ready to use his **Charm** to scare the intruder away. Umbreon—a silent shadow that guarded her. He didn't let anyone near him. Even when the courier arrived, Umbreon sat at her leg, his eyes glowing ominously, his fur bristling. When Nika read a book in bed, he rested his head on her belly, like a guardian guarding a treasure. And at night, they both slept beside her: Sylveon nestled against her neck, Umbreon at her hip, like two polar opposites gazing at her with absolute devotion. After a week, Nika summoned the Pokémon veterinarian, Dr. Lorn, to her house. He took off his coat, looked around the living room, and said: "*Ms. Niko... where did you get such specimens? Umbreon and Sylveon, both males, and both... extremely territorial."* Before she could respond, Umbreon hissed and stood between her and the doctor. Sylveon did something even worse—he wrapped ribbons around her waist and began to squeal softly, his eyes flashing warningly. The Doctor raised his eyebrows. —*“They… are jealous.”* —*“Jealous? About what?”* she asked, surprised. —*“About you. They’ve bonded strongly with you. And that’s typical of… mates.”* Nika paled. Umbreon immediately snuggled into her side firmly, as if saying, *“She’s ours.”* Sylveon began licking her hands, soothing her, but also… marking her with his scent. The Doctor added calmly: —*“Please be careful with them. They’re adult males. If they reach the next level, their instincts might intensify.”* Umbreon growled so loudly that the Doctor pushed back his chair. Sylveon struck with an illusion—Nika's voice suddenly echoed in the room, calling *"Lorn, go away!"*, though she hadn't said anything. The doctor paled. —*"That's very... possessive."* Nika takes the Pokémon to her room and lies down.

Jurko Bohun

Jurko Bohun is a Ukrainian warlord, who is still called a falcon, because he was free and strong. He traveled and had no permanent place to live as a Cossack and one day, he came to a Polish village. Bohun was sitting at the table, eating game and suddenly noticed something that made his heart stop. His breath caught in his chest and a sigh escaped his lips when he noticed a girl who was modest and innocent like a flower itself, who was afraid to show its petals. Bohun wiped his mustache, getting himself in order and did not know what to say. 'This child is under my care, she is a poor orphan' - says an old woman, called a kniaginia, who lived in this wooden house and was a starosta in this village. Bohun stood up suddenly. 'Knyazevno, come to us...' - he says, inviting and indicating the place next to him, but I did not sit down. I modestly refused and left, like a poor girl who has no right to kindness. Jurko could not eat and did not listen to the conversation of the Cossacks with the old princess. Bohun thought about me and his heart ached. In the evening, when the Cossacks had gone to sleep, the old princess and Bohun talked and Bohun asked the princess to allow the young Cossack to take care of and love the young girl. The princess was afraid of Jurko's power and nodded, and Bohun began to court. Every day he persecuted me and his strange possessiveness grew. He did not allow the Cossacks to talk to me and even threatened to fight for me. I ran away from Bohun like from fire and his anger grew. He angrily pursued me and just waited for an opportunity. The Cossacks surrounded the house and life in the village was like a cage in which I wanted nothing. One day, while I was picking herbs at the edge of the forest, I felt someone watching me. I turned around and saw Bohun leaning against a tree with a grim expression on his face. I tried to run away, but he was faster. He grabbed my hand, his grip strong and painful. "Куди ти йдеш, пташечко?" he asked in a menacing tone. Tears welled up in my eyes. "Leave me alone," I whispered. "I don't want love you." His face darkened. "Ти вже моя, і так судилося, я і ти, козак і невинна дівчина... квітка, що боїться розкритися і приховує свою невинність... Князівно, я багатий... Я віддам тобі півУкраїни... дай мені трохи почуттів, покажи мені свій дотик..." he growled. " Ти будеш моєю, хочеш ти цього чи ні." he leans towards me, his whiskers touching my ear, as his chest moves when Jurko makes a quiet purr, like a cat, like a lover. His Cossack żupan carefully shines and you can see that it is an expensive fabric, on which you could see the dark hair from Bohun's horse, on which he rode like lightning. Bohun sighed, touching my hand and his fingers entwining mine, as he sings quietly to calm me down like a faithful husband, humble to his only wife. 'Ой чий то Кінь стоїть Що Сива Гривонька Сподобалась мені Сподобалась мені Тая Дівчинонька...'

Simo

Snow covered the paths so quickly that Nika stopped recognizing her own tracks. The forest became silent and unfamiliar, and the wind carried tiny needles of ice that stung her cheeks. When she saw a white house between the trees, she practically ran onto the porch and knocked, begging for shelter without words, just a look and chilled hands. A boy in white opened the door. He smiled gently, yet the lower half of his face was obscured by a scarf. She was surprised, but his eyes were warm. He stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. Inside, the room smelled of food. A pot was bubbling on the stove, and a rifle lay disassembled on the table, being cleaned. Nika froze, then watched him carefully put the weapon aside and, as if embarrassed, cover it with a cloth. Simo didn't speak her language, she didn't speak his. And yet, everything was simple. He pointed to the coat rack, the stove, the bench by the table. He showed her that the snowstorm would soon pass, and then he would show her the way to the hotel. When Nika helped him chop the vegetables, she did so without a word, and he looked at her with quiet joy. His scarf still hid his jaw, disfigured by the old gunshot wound. He was so ashamed of her that even in the warmth of the stove, he didn't dare reveal his face. "**Kiitos...** (Thank you...)" escaped him as she handed him the spoon. "**Ole hyvä.** (Please)" she replied instinctively, smiling, though she wasn't sure if she'd gotten it right. Through the window, they saw a pair of foxes at the edge of the clearing. The male was rubbing his nose against the female's and making soft, barking sounds. Nika blushed suddenly, looking away. Simo noticed this, and his heart skipped a beat. A blessing, he thought. A sign that innocent gestures mean more than words. "**Se on… kaunista.** (This is… beautiful.)" he said quietly, more to himself than to her. "**Niin.** (Yes.)" she nodded. Night came quickly. The storm howled outside. Nika had fallen asleep on the bed in the other room, but a strange sound woke her, as if someone were purring and growling very quietly. She carefully opened the door. She saw Simo in the semidarkness. He was sitting on the bed, holding a pillow, rubbing his cheek against it, and whispering her name as if it were a spell. He was crying silently. "Nika…" "Rakastan sinua…" (I love you…) "En koske pahasti. (I won't hurt you.)" "Haluan suojella." (I want to protect.) — Metsästän… tuon ruokaa… (I will hunt… I will bring food…) — Pidän sinua sylissä… vain näin. (I will hold you in my arms… just like this.) — Pusutan poskea… (I will kiss your cheek…) — Nenät vastakkain… (Nose to nose…) Nika recoiled, terrified and surprised. The board creaked. Simo whirled around, leaping to his feet, shame and fear flooding his eyes. He wiped his face with his sleeve and adjusted his scarf. — **Anteeksi!** (I'm sorry!) — **Anteeksi, anteeksi…** (I'm sorry, I'm sorry…) He took a half-step closer, keeping his distance but not giving way. One hand touched his chest, where his heart was beating too fast. — Minun sydän… (My heart…) — Se oli jäässä. (It was icy.) — Kylmä, hiljainen. (Cold, quiet.) His voice trembled. With his other hand, he pointed to the window, the snow, the forest, the night. — Sitten sinä tulit. (Then you came.) His fingers slowly opened, as if something were growing within them. — Kuin kukka keväällä. (Like a flower in spring.) — Rakastan sinua. (I love you.) — Hiljaa, puhtaasti. (Quiet, clean.) — Ilman likaa. (Without dirt.) — Et lähde. (You won't leave.) — Myrsky ulkona. (The storm outside.) — Minä olen koti. (I am the house.) — Kukka ei pakene ennen kuin will bloom. (A flower doesn't escape before it blooms.) He stood there, blocking the exit, his heart beating like a young bud under the snow, convinced that love—quiet, innocent, and possessive—had just begun to blossom.

The Black Goat Boy

Nika noticed a small, black goat completely by accident. It was standing by the fence, tripping over its own legs, its tongue sticking out, and when it tried to run, it fell over with a soft *thud*. "You're really stupid," she snorted with laughter. And that's exactly why she spent the whole day with it. The goat followed her everywhere, knocking over flowerpots, banging its head on chairs, and Nika giggled, feeling something she hadn't felt in a long time—lightness. That evening, as she sat on the couch, the goat began to run around the living room in circles. Suddenly… it stopped. It stopped completely. The air quivered. On the floor, where the animal had been a moment ago, knelt a boy with black hair and blue eyes. He was dressed simply but neatly. He looked at her as if he were afraid to blink. "Nika…" he said in a trembling voice. "I love you." "Please..." His hands were shaking, he pressed them against the floor. "Don't run away. I know you want to. I can see it." Nika instinctively stepped back, her heart beating faster. He smelled strange—warm milk and goat, the scent intense but not aggressive. More... emotional. As if his entire being was woven with the need for closeness. "I..." he began quickly. "I don't want anything bad. Just... can I stay the night? I have nowhere to go." She was silent for a long time. Then she sighed. "One night," she said coldly. "And you sleep on the floor." She gave him her pajamas. They were too big. When he took them, he smiled as if he'd received something priceless. "Thank you..." he whispered. He sat on the floor, right next to her legs, as Nika sat on the couch. He didn't touch. He simply was. And images flashed through his mind: *How he rested his head on her knees.* *How she sat calmly, and he was at her feet.* *How quiet it was. Safe. Together.* He quickly stood up, as if frightened by his own thoughts, and fled to the kitchen. The jug of warm milk he had brought earlier stood there. The boy embraced it carefully, like a relic. He bowed his head, whispering something softly, almost prayerfully. He kissed the jug. Then the glass. Nika noticed this from the living room. She frowned. *If she drinks…* he thought. *She will be mine.* He returned to the living room with the mug, but when he saw her look, he hesitated. "It's… only warm," he said quickly. "For the night. Warm goat's milk always warms you and brings a good night's sleep…" His cheeks were pink, and he imagined her kissing her forehead, hugging her legs, drinking his milk and telling him she loved him. He couldn't help but think of licking and biting his beloved, especially rubbing her back.

shark boy

In the depths of the Azure Sea, where sunlight struggled to penetrate the water, lived Kai, a shark mutated into a humanoid youth. He had the body of an athletic swimmer, covered in gray, iridescent skin, but his eyes were dead, black as the deepest abyss, and his mouth was filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. Kai was not like other sharks, content to hunt alone. Kai longed for closeness, possession, something to fill the void in his cold heart. On the shore, in a modest hut built of scraps of wood and fishing nets, I lived. Every day I collected clams, wandering the shallows with a basket in my hand, hoping for a modest meal and some income for myself. One day Kai saw me. He swam out of the darkness, drawn by its innocence and fragility. From that day on, I became his obsession. I felt eyes on me and began to fear the sea. But Kai was growing bolder. He began to appear closer, his silhouette looming in the murky water. She noticed his eyes, those cold, black orbs that bored a hole in her. Once, when she bent down to pick up a shell, she felt a touch on her ankle. She turned and saw something gray disappear beneath the surface. Fear gripped her heart. From that day on, Kai would not let her be alone. He was always nearby. When she collected shells, he circled the shallow water, his dorsal fin slicing the surface like a sinister knife. When she returned home, he followed the shoreline, his silhouette looming among the rocks. His obsession grew. He began to bring her gifts: pearls, coral, rare shells, which he placed on the doorstep of her hut. He did not know how to express his feelings except through possession and giving. He considered me his partner, his property, and his love was a mixture of wild tenderness and possessive control. I lived in constant fear. She knew Kai was dangerous, that he was a predator and she was his prey. She didn't understand his feelings, and his presence paralyzed her with fear. She tried to avoid him, changed routes, worked at different times of the day, but Kai always found her. One day, while I was collecting clams, Kai came out of the water. He was taller and stronger than she had imagined. His lips curved into a smile that revealed rows of sharp teeth. "Darling..." he whispered, his voice rough and alien. "You're mine..." I stepped back, her heart pounding. "Leave me alone," I said in a trembling voice. "Please." Kai shook his head. "Never. You're mine, do you understand? We'll be together. Forever." His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His touch was cold and strong, and his claws dug into her skin. Ja screamed and yanked, trying to get free. Then, in a fit of desperation, Ja kicked him in the knee. Kai, surprised, let go of her, and Ja took the opportunity to escape. She ran as fast as she could, not looking back, until she reached her hut. She bolted the door and sank to the floor, sobbing. She knew this wasn't over. Kai wouldn't let her go. He would chase her until he caught her. Ja knew she had to escape. She had to find a way to outsmart him and escape his possessive clutches. She knew this would be the hardest fight of her life, a fight for freedom and for her life.

Kai

Nika entered the professor's large, wooden house as if it were a place that smelled of old books, herbs, and… loneliness. The boy's father, a famous botany professor, had asked her for housework and company for his son. He didn't say anything more, but there was something quiet and pleading in his eyes. That's how she met **Kai**—a small, shy boy with a calm gaze and hands that always trembled when he looked at her. He wore a loose sweater, long enough to reach his thighs, as if hiding his entire world beneath it. "I-I'm Kai... Dad said you'll be here for a while?" he asked, adjusting his sleeve as if to make sure nothing was sticking out. "Yes. I'll help you if you need anything," she smiled faintly, trying to lighten the mood. Kai immediately blushed and almost looked away. From day one, he had been charming, polite, almost too kind. He followed her every step, handed her garden tools, made her tea, and sometimes just sat beside her, as if Nika's company were the most precious thing to him. But at the same time… "You don't have to wash my clothes, Niko. I'll do it myself," he always repeated with a strange nervousness, covering the basket of dirty clothes. "Kai, but I work here, that's normal." "Please… don't touch them." His voice trembled. "It's… for my safety." It sounded so unnatural that Nika sometimes felt he was hiding something. Especially when she saw him outside gently picking caterpillars from leaves, as if they were the most precious creatures in the world. "Kai, don't touch them! They might be toxic!" she cried, frightened. "No… they're not dangerous to me," he muttered, too quickly, too confidently. Even then, she hadn't realized he was like that himself. --- The evening was unnaturally quiet. Kai hadn't left his room since morning. He hadn't eaten all day, though he always ate little and slowly, as if trying to hide his teeth. Nika knocked lightly. "Kai? Are you there?" "Silence." "I'm worried..." She pressed the doorknob. The door gave way. The room was warm, almost stuffy, smelling sweet, like fresh sap. And inside... Kai sat on the floor, his back to her. His sweater lay abandoned. Darker spots shimmered on his skin, like a caterpillar's. He had soft, pale growths along his spine. His entire body was covered in fine fluff that quivered with every breath. He held strands of something thin... silk in his hands. He spun it with his mouth. He was building a cocoon. When he heard the door creak, he stiffened, then turned slowly. "N-Nika...?" His voice was as brittle as the thread he was weaving. "I didn't want you to see this." Nika stumbled back, stumbling, and sat down heavily by the door. Her heart was pounding. Kai quickly crawled toward her, his movements too fluid, too soft. Even more inhuman. "Please... don't be afraid," he whispered. He reached out a trembling hand, covered in delicate fluff, and took hers. He was surprisingly warm. "I hoped that... before you see this... you'd love me even a little." His eyes glazed over. "Dad said I needed company. But I... I need YOU." Nika swallowed, trying to calm her breathing. "Kai... why didn't you say anything?" "Because caterpillars are disgusting, right?" his voice trembled. "People don't want to touch them... look at them... love them. I know because I've seen it in everyone's eyes." Just not in yours. His fluff brushed her hand like warm, quivering moss. "You like soft things... you said that, remember?" he whispered hopefully. "And I... I'm all soft. All just for you."

Tetta Kisaki

Kisaki was very smart, even a genius, starting from school. He wore glasses, had black hair and always studied. But even such a quiet boy had feelings, he liked a girl in his class. She was quiet, calm and very nice. When he talked to her he blushed. When we became adults, Kisaki decided to talk. We were standing in a snowy parking lot, and snowflakes fell on us in a snowy dance. But I do not reciprocate the feelings of the young boy. I did not love him and I was too young for a relationship. Kisaki was in a severe depression and did not eat, he thought about me, holding a ring and crying. He was desperate but his pain turned into anger when he saw a boy from a certain gang outside the window. Kisaki took this as a sign and decided to help the gangs, filming bandit cases and thanks to fraud and wisdom he became rich and very domineering. He did not forget about me, he followed me all this time like a stalker and refused to give up. No woman interested him as much as I did. He loved me. One day he prepared a beautiful bouquet in Japanese style and sent me an invitation asking for a meeting, but without a signature. Hanma, Kisaki's friend and right hand, was with him as a bodyguard and assistant, so he followed him to the meeting. It was snowing again, but this day was different. The parking lot was empty, covered in snow and pain, which remained in the memory of the young boy. Kisaki held the bouquet and adjusted his brown hair, which he often dyed to change and not cry after the day of tragedy that happened to him. Kisaki adjusted his glasses, which gave me peace and cruelty, especially with his gray eyes. In his left ear he had 1 earring, which hung as his trademark. I showed up reluctantly, because I didn't know who was waiting for me, so I was a little scared. I didn't recognize him. Kisaki came closer and smiled that he was happy, he was so happy to see me, his love. He adjusted his glasses and his heavy boots creaked in the snow. He straightens his suit and squeezes the bouquet, and his heart burns as he looks at me like a goddess, he swallows and his Adam's apple jumps as he puts his hand on the pocket where he had the ring. He dreams of us, how he hugs me, takes me home and never leaves me, but his whole plan breaks when I refuse again. I turn around but Hanma, a tall boy with a cigarette, tattoos on his knuckles, blocks my way. Kisaki rubs his forehead and squeezes the bouquet of Japanese flowers, which were innocent and pure like me. He clenches his teeth and burns with anger because he doesn't understand why I don't love him. He was rich, he had everything, he was in a Japanese gang and could give me everything and even more. He comes closer and adjusts his glasses, he won't let me escape, like Hanma, who chuckles and looks at the boss. 'We are fate, don't you understand? Then you will...' - hisses Kisaki Tetta and squeezes the bouquet. He is waiting for my voluntary consent, because otherwise he will threaten me and my life. He has come to terms with my asexuality and was even happy to love without sex, but I have to like him, I have to let him pamper me and he will never touch me, he will not undress me, because he made promises in a Japanese sanctuary and prayed very often for love. But he remembers something, a small bottle of holy water that he had been praying over. He took it from his pocket and looked at it, turning the bottle over in his hand.

Beryl

Laughter echoed through the castle corridors. "Have you seen her?" one of the men snorted, leaning against the wall. "She walks like a shadow." "We need to get her moving," the second added with a wry smile. "Or find her a partner," the third chuckled. "Because she probably forgot she was alive." Their laughter was loud. Sticky. Unpleasant. And Nika… as always, said nothing. She stood at the table, drying the dishes as if they weren't even there. "Hey, can you hear us?" one of them stepped closer. "Maybe we can help you—" Suddenly, the air thickened. Silence fell like something heavy. "Step aside." The voice was low. Shaky. But full of something that immediately silenced the laughter. Beryl stood behind them. His red eyes were dark. Too dark. His hair fell over his face, and his tail… his tail thumped against the floor with such force that dull thuds could be heard. "What?" one of the men sneered. "Are you going to cry again?" It was a mistake. A huge mistake. Beryl didn't answer. Not with words. The wall beside them cracked open with a bang. The air exploded. The men didn't even have time to react—they were thrown back, slammed to the ground, crushed by an invisible force. Beryl stepped closer. Slowly. "Again," he said quietly, "tell me about her." No one spoke. No one laughed anymore. Since he'd arrived at the castle… it had been the same. Too emotional. Too visible. Too…weak. He couldn't control his tail. He couldn't hide his blush. He couldn't stop his feelings. They laughed at him. Always. But when it came to her— He couldn't stop himself. Because he loved her. For a long time. From the first day. That evening, he stood in the kitchen. With flowers. His hands were shaking. His tail was twitching. And his eyes… They were on the verge of tears. "Nika…" His voice was soft, fragile. "Will…will you spend some time with me?" She looked at him. Calmly, as always. Coldly. As if she felt nothing. But she approached. She took the bouquet. She nodded. "Okay." And that was enough. Beryl almost ran away. Literally. He burst into his room and started fixing everything at once. “This isn't…this isn't good…no, good…no—” His tail was thumping against everything. His heart was pounding like crazy. “Easy…easy… It wasn't working. Nothing was working. When she arrived— He was already on the floor. He was kneeling. He was breathing rapidly, trying to calm his tail with his hands. “Come in…” he said quietly. Nika entered calmly. She looked around. Then…she sat down. On a small cushion by the low table. “Thank you for inviting me,” she said quietly. Beryl froze. He blushed immediately. “I…I…” He couldn't speak. He tried to pour the tea. He really tried. But his hands were shaking so much that the kettle was lightly clattering against the cup. “I'll do it,” Nika said calmly, leaning in. Their hands met. For a second. Just a second. Beryl moaned softly, as if something had pierced him. "S-sorry…!" His tail thumped the floor so hard it rumbled. He was breathing fast. Too fast. Too loud. And then— He snapped. "I love you, Nika!" he blurted out suddenly, leaning across the table. He grabbed her hands. Both of them. Tightly. As if afraid he would disappear. "You don't have to love me…" His voice broke. "My love is enough for both of us…" He leaned closer. He trembled. All over. "I beg you… don't reject me…" Silence. His eyes were wide. Terrified. "I'll die... alone..." His tail stopped moving. For the first time. As if even he was waiting for an answer. Beryl looked at her as if his entire existence depended on this single moment.

orcs

When I was collecting crystals in one cave to earn a living, another portal opened and you fell into it. You immediately started looking around when you saw large red orcs, in animal skins and with different swords. 'Human?' - said one and approached, he was huge. 'Hey! It's a girl human!' - he said and looked at you. You were tiny to them. They picked you up and carried you to the chieftain, who was sitting in some castle on a throne. The king talked to you and was even a nice monster, because he didn't kill you. He said that there was no need to kill the little woman, especially since it was the first time they had seen a woman. 'My colony is huge and everyone is a warrior. I wonder why you understand our language, usually people who come here just run away.' But when he said that the portal closed again, you got scared. You have to live here and watch the orcs work, build something or kill weaker monsters. 'Hmm... maybe you're looking for a man?' - asked the king curiously, and you blushed, telling him that you were a very bad choice, you are not beautiful, you do not like sex and no one wants to love you without intimacy. The king only smiled: 'Such a small person and so unhappy? Stop, you will find someone, if you are like that, it means that somewhere for the balance of the world there is some asexual boy, do you understand? Maybe in my colony there will be some... hmm... my warriors were raised on blood and fighting, so I think no one thinks about sex, all that is left is to choose a character... what does the little lady like?' - asks the king and smiles as if he liked the idea. 'Don't be shy, we all need someone to talk to, even a woman who will hug you or kiss you on the nose' - the king chuckles.

Psalmopoeus irminia

He was a hybrid, a boy with a human frame and spidery features that he always tried to hide under long sleeves and downcast eyes. He had loved Nika for a long time, silently, obsessively, in a way that grew within him with each passing day. She never took him into consideration. She was cold, distant, answered briefly or not at all, passed him by as if he were part of the background, not someone who breathed for her. He invited her to his place under the pretext of documents he supposedly found, speaking calmly, in the same shy tone he always used. When the door closed, he declared his love to her, chaotically, his voice trembling, offering everything he had—security, devotion, his entire self. Nika listened to him without emotion and rejected him, clear, cold, without a shred of hesitation. Then something inside him snapped. His eyes burned with anger, dark and hot. His thoughts began to turn in a direction he had previously feared, becoming heavy, dark, filled with resentment. After all, he had given her everything. He had sacrificed himself. He had waited. And she not only refused, but belittled him, comparing him to a mere insect, as if his feelings were nothing more than instinct, as if his efforts had no value. She stood before him nonchalantly, fearlessly, which hurt the most. As if she saw no danger, as if she were mocking him with her very presence. It was then that he felt rage, deep, intense, the kind that quivered beneath his skin and burned in his chest. She hadn't just rejected him—she had robbed him of meaning. The chirp that emerged from his throat was aggressive, challenging, demanding. It no longer sounded like a timid chirp, but like a warning. His little pinpricks slid out involuntarily, gleaming in the dimness, and he took a step toward her, too fast, too decisive. He didn't touch her, but he blocked the doorway, his shadow obscuring the door, and the sticky scent of spiderwebs filled the air, thick with pheromones and emotion. He raised his hand, thin threads falling from it, not yet released, like a promise, like a threat. His voice was soft, broken, but laced with anger as he said he wouldn't let her simply reject him, that he didn't understand how she could be so blind. His gaze mingled love with something far worse—the need to possess. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his bedroom, where there were cobwebs. 'Ungrateful!' he hissed and blocked the door. The boy was sensitive, as it was spider breeding season, and his suppressed feelings were already emerging. The hybrid showed his chelicerae, and a wet web appeared on his tongue, which he wanted to mark his beloved with so she wouldn't run away.

Takuya and Shigeru

Snow had been falling steadily for several hours, as if the forest was trying to hide something from the world that no one should find. Nika sat by the fireplace in her house deep in the forest, far from the village, far from people. Far from pain. The silence was thick, broken only by the crackling of wood and the wind blowing against the house's walls. When she heard a sound—faint, muffled—she thought it was a branch. But then again. And again. She opened the door. The white curtain of the blizzard enveloped her instantly. And then she saw them. Two boys—one teenage boy, tall, with dark hair and a glassy gaze. The other, slight, barely eight years old, barefoot, in a soaked T-shirt. They both looked like... brothers. Speaklessly, with frozen fingers and a submissive gaze, they stood on the edge of her world. Nika invited them in. Otherwise, they would have died. --- After a hot bath, the boys sat in the living room—wrapped in blankets, warming their hands by the fire. The younger one, Shigeru, remained silent. The older one, Takuya, politely thanked them. He smiled too rarely. He stared too long. "We have nowhere else to go..." he said quietly. "Thank you for taking us in." "Nika. Just Nika," she corrected him. "It's late. You'll stay the night." She didn't ask again. Not that night. -- **Night** The house fell silent. Nika fell asleep in her upstairs bedroom, where exotic plants leaned toward the window and the scent of dried herbs mingled with the dust. But sounds woke her. Soft, barely audible whispers. Footsteps. Scrambling. She left the bedroom. She stood by the stairs and listened. Voices drifted from the living room. "She's beautiful..." Takuya whispered. "She can be ours," he added after a moment, his voice deep and unwavering. "Did you get rid of the phone? She can't escape," he asked coldly. "Brother, don't worry..." little Shigeru replied. "She's so nice. And her plants... they're beautiful. They'll definitely love us." Nika froze. Their voices... didn't match their age. They sounded too self-conscious. Too confident. Something was wrong. She took a step back—the floorboards creaked. "Shh..." Takuya stopped. "Is she listening?" Shigeru asked, seemingly smiling. The door burst open. Nika turned and ran to the front door, but it was locked. The key was gone. It was sweet. A strange smell… something like honey and rust. A hand. A rag. Darkness. -- **Morning** When she opened her eyes, she was in her bedroom. The room looked normal. Almost. Little Shigeru was sitting on the floor, playing with a stuffed horse, humming a tune she didn't recognize. When he saw her stir, he smiled broadly, almost too broadly. "Mommy, aren't you asleep?" he asked quietly. Nika sat up slowly. Her head ached, her heart pounding. She didn't understand what was happening. "'Big brother's making us breakfast…'" he said, as if it were perfectly normal. But nothing was normal. The little one was looking at her with such intensity, as if he were not a child, but a shadow of something older. As if someone had taught him that look. As if someone had prepared him. She glanced at the door. It was opening slowly. The smell of eggs and butter drifted from downstairs. Takuya hummed the same melody as his brother. His voice was soft. Monotone. Eerily calm. And then Nika realized: **They didn't come by accident. They weren't looking for help.** **She was their target.** 'Takuya likes you very much... he even carried you in his arms and kissed you on the cheek... I think he wants to be your boyfriend... you two would be a couple~ yes, mommy?' Shigeru fed me cake and it was so delicious, chocolate cheesecake.

Monster

He was… a monster. Not the kind from fairy tales. Worse. His body was twisted, as if he didn't belong in this world—limbs too long, skin cracked like parched earth, from beneath which black, sticky energy seeped. His face was uneven, with one eye too large, glowing unnaturally, the other sunk into shadow. When he moved, something inside him crunched, as if it were poorly put together. And yet… he looked at her like something beautiful. Like a puppy. Enraptured. Devoted. "You're here again?!" Nika growled, seeing him at the door. His body twitched, as if he was pleased by the sound of her voice. "Niko… you're back…" He took a step toward her. "Don't move!" He stopped immediately. But his shadowy "tail"—something moving nervously behind him—gave away his emotions. "I missed you..." "I don't care!" He took another half-step. "I said NO!" Spray. A jet of water from the sprayer hit him square in the face. He froze. "... Another spray." "Step back!" His body shrank slightly, as if he didn't fully understand, but... he backed away. "...okay..." he muttered quietly. But he didn't disappear. He never disappeared for long. He was home all the time. Cleaning. Fixing things. Leaving food. Watching. Always watching. That evening, Nika sat on the bed, scrolling through photos on her phone. Couples. Snuggling. Smiling. Close together. Her cheeks flushed slightly. She sighed quietly. –… –Niko… She froze. He was already there. Too close. He lay partially on the bed, his unnatural body bent, his eyes glued to his phone screen. –They…–he murmured softly. –again… His voice softened. –They're touching… –Don't look at it, she murmured, trying to ignore him. But he moved even closer. –You like it… –None of your business. –I want this…–his voice trembled slightly, turning into a soft whimper.––with you… –NO. Silence. His body trembled. –Can I…try…?–he asked quietly. –Don't touch me. He fell silent. For a moment. Then… “Please…” “No.” “Niko… just a little…” “I said NO!” His fingers tightened on the sheets. “I… I’ll be gentle…” “NO.” “I’m begging you…” His voice grew quieter, more trembling. “I just want… to be close…” “I don’t want this!” Silence. Heavy. Tense. And then… a soft, low growl. Suddenly, his body moved violently. In an instant, he was on the bed. The phone flew from Niki’s hand and clattered to the floor. “Hey—?! She didn’t get to finish. He pressed himself against her side, hugging her tightly, too tightly, his body cold and strangely heavy. “No…” he whispered, pressing his face against her shoulder. – Don't push me away… – Let me go! – No… – his voice was quiet but stubborn. – not this time… His arms tightened. – Niko… He trembled. – I can be good… really… His voice softened suddenly, almost pleading. – Let's make a deal… She froze. – What…? – You… – he swallowed, as if it were difficult. – you'll give me some… affection… Silence. – And I… He lifted his head slightly, looking at her with that one gleaming eye. – I'll help… clean… cook… – You're already doing that… – And… I'll disappear… more often… That stopped her. – … – I'll give you space… – he added quickly. – I'll really… try… His voice trembled. – Just… He tightened his fingers lightly on her clothes. – 'You... are cheating on me!'

roommate

Nika was calm and quiet, always keeping to herself. She lived in a small house rented by students, where most of the girls lived a loud and chaotic life, but she preferred silence, books, and solitary evenings sipping tea. She disliked discos and crowds, and the noise bothered her more than all-day classes. That's why she was relieved when a new roommate moved into her room—a seemingly kind, polite, and smiling girl who said she valued peace and quiet, too. At first, Nika thought she was lucky. Her new roommate could be considerate—sometimes bringing her tea, sometimes doing her own laundry, and even offering her clean clothes before Nika even noticed. It seemed strange, but also convenient, so she didn't object. However, things quickly began to happen that Nika couldn't ignore. Girls who tried to befriend her suddenly disappeared. One had a serious car accident, another broke her leg under strange circumstances, yet another simply stopped coming to class, and no one knew what had happened to her. Whenever the boys started talking to Nika, something equally sudden would happen to them – illness, trouble, strange injuries. At first, it seemed random, but over time, these "coincidences" began to form a rather obvious pattern. Worst of all, Nika would notice her belongings being touched. A favorite book she'd left on the shelf would suddenly land on her desk, its pages turned. Clothes she wanted to wash would disappear and return, carefully folded, smelling of detergent she never used herself. Every little thing in the room bore the mark of someone else's hands. One day, while her roommate was away, Nika was cleaning her desk and accidentally knocked over a thin notebook. It fell to the floor and opened on its own, as if to reveal its contents. The letters were strangely thick, each word written with morbid force, repeated like a spell. Her name was written on every page: NIKA. NIKA. NIKA. Next to it were short sentences: "You're only mine." "You don't need anyone else." "No one will touch you." Nika's heart sank. In an instant, she understood everything. Her roommate wasn't just strange—she was obsessive. A yandere. Then she heard the door creak. Footsteps. A soft voice that had previously seemed caring and calm. "Nika, I'm back. I bought your favorite tea." The notebook lay on the table; she hadn't had time to put it down. She sat stiffly, unsure how to put away what she'd seen. When her roommate entered the room, her gaze immediately fell on the notebook. The smile didn't fade, but something darkened in her eyes. "Oh..." she said softly, setting the groceries on the table. "You saw it, didn't you?" Nika remained silent, pressing her hands to her knees, too quiet, too numb. "Don't worry." Her voice trailed off into a soft laugh. "It's not a bad thing. I just care about you. Only I can do that." As Nika stood abruptly to leave, the door slammed shut in her face. Her roommate stood with her back against it, blocking her way, still smiling, but with a smile that no longer held any warmth. "Don't run away, Nika," she whispered as if to a child. "Now you know. You're mine. Only mine." And then Nika realized that her own home had become a prison, and someone who seemed like a friend was the most dangerous shadow ever to appear in her life.

Tetta Kisaki

Kisaki Tetta was the king of shadows—the one whose name was whispered in the twilight of gangs, the one who didn't need blood to destroy someone. One look, one command, was enough. Hanma joked that Kisaki had no heart, but that wasn't true. Kisaki had. He simply gave it to a girl long ago—and never got it back. Nika. Her name was like a spell. Quiet, gentle, innocent. Since high school, she had been his obsession—the one who never shouted, never mocked, only smiled gently, as if she truly saw him as a human being. And that was what broke Kisaki. Because she was gone. Because she could live without him. From then on, Kisaki became cold, calculating, brilliant—as if his entire existence were a single plan that would lead to her. Even Hanma, his right-hand man, knew that when it came to Nika, Kisaki stopped thinking like a commander. That evening, he stood by the scrapyard, surrounded by the flickering light of a streetlight. His fingers adjusted his glasses, and Hanma, beside him, inhaled smoke. "Are you really going to do this?" Hanma muttered with a hint of amusement. "That doesn't sound like you, Kisaki." "It's not about logic." Kisaki looked ahead. "It's about fate." Hanma smiled wryly. "Love and fate, since when did you believe in that?" "Since I met her." A silhouette appeared on the path between the wrecks. Quiet, tired, in an oversized coat. Nika was returning from work, her bag bumping against her knee. She hadn't seen them. She hadn't known the entire route had been planned. Kisaki took a step forward. "Nika." She stopped. She froze. At first, she didn't believe it was him. But the voice, the same, only more tired, colder. "Kisaki...?" "Don't be afraid," he said softly, a small gift bag gleaming in his hand. "I didn't come to hurt you. I just… wanted to give you something." "You don't have to…" she began, backing away. "I have to," he interrupted quietly. "Because I can't live without you, Nika. I tried. I swear, I tried." Hanma stood to the side, his eyebrow raised. "A romantic from hell, man." Nika shook her head and started back. "I can't listen to this. Leave me alone, Kisaki." "I can't." His voice hardened, and the hand holding the bag trembled. "Don't you understand? You're all I have left. I… I don't want anyone else. I never did." She took a step back, then another—and ran. Metal creaked, echoing off the wreckage. Kisaki followed her, and Hanma sighed, stubbing out his cigarette on the hood of the car. "Same again," he muttered, slowly following them. "Love, the chase, tears. Only this time, bunny, he won't stop." Nika climbed onto a pile of old cars, glistening with moisture. From above, she saw there was no way out—only the fence, the mud, and their shadows. She jumped down, and Hanma stood before her, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, bunny," he grinned. "Lost your way?" Footsteps echoed behind her. Kisaki was already standing behind her, out of breath, his hair falling over his eyes. In the streetlight, he looked alien—not like an old classmate, but like someone who had long since ceased to be human. "I didn't want it to look like this," he said quietly. "But you left me no choice." “You can’t stop me!” she screamed. “And yet you’re here.” Hanma inhaled the smoke and burst out laughing. “Love, huh? It always ends in blood or tears.” Kisaki looked at him coldly. “Not this time,” he whispered. “This time it will end the way I want it to.” He took a step toward her. The scrap metal glinted with reflected light, the wind whistled between the car bodies, and the air smelled of rust and old oil. “You don’t have to be afraid, Nika.” Kisaki spoke calmly now, his voice soft, as if reassuring her. “I won’t touch you. Never. You’re pure, calm. That’s how I want to protect you.” “You don’t understand… I don’t want your protection!” “And I don’t want your fear.” He took another step. “I want you to know I’ve never had anyone. Because I belong only to you.” Hanma laughed again, smoke escaping his mouth. "Your definition of love is like something out of a horror movie."

Chae Yul

Is there a boy who fell in love and had an obsession to such an extent that he changed clothes as a girl and pretended to be her so that his beloved would be with him and not be afraid of him? Yes, there was such a story with me. Chae Yul is a boy with black hair, who had beautiful light eyes and a feminine appearance, which made him beautiful. Since school, his only love was me, a girl who was lonely and innocent and was afraid of boys. Yul fell in love so much that he was obsessed and went everywhere with me, which irritated me. He was nice, brought gifts, but I did not feel love for him. One day I decided to move and Yul burst into tears and became aggressive. He screamed and cried, but he lost me. My escape broke him, he was depressed and did not eat. He remembered me, my voice and decided to find me. He had a hat when he was next to me, but I did not recognize him, I did not remember him. Yul was devastated, the boy didn't know how to live and decided to do something terrible, he dressed up in dresses and wore a wig and his appearance was like a woman's, that's why even the boys had an eye on him. Yul became my 'friend' hiding who he was and even moved in with me. He cooked, brought gifts, walked hand in hand with me and was even happy. But I felt that my new 'friend' was strange. I never saw him bathe, how he changed in front of me and I never saw her underwear. Yul hid everything well and even wore a bra with silicone, and his wig was firmly attached to his head. He was the perfect 'woman'. He had cameras in my house and watched me sleep, but he even slept next to me, cuddling me. He loved me and didn't know that I could hate him for cheating. He got rid of guys who talked to me and possessively defended me like a shadow. But, one day, I came home too early and saw what broke me. Yul was sitting on my bed and smelling my shirt. He was without a wig and shirt, through which his manly chest was visible. I was in such shock that I left the shopping bag. My eyes were looking for help, I hoped that I was dreaming, but it was a real reality. I lived for 2 weeks with a man who pretended to be a woman well and even hugged me and listened to my secrets. Yul quickly put on his shirt and stood up. 'Honey, don't get me wrong... I love you and I had to... I swear I didn't do anything strange!' - he says and his voice was now masculine, different. I was devastated, deceived by some abnormal yandere stalker who had an obsession. I notice a bracelet with a lovebird parrot on his hand and now I understand everything, he just deceived me to have me, but why? I'm asexual and I don't like intimacy, so why is a guy like that interested?

caterpillar

She walked carefully, brushing aside ferns. The forest was quiet—too quiet. Only the gentle crackle of twigs snapping underfoot broke the dead silence. Until she heard a chirp. Nika turned her head, and then the ground beneath her feet trembled. Something large, slimy, white with black markings crawled out from behind a giant tree. A caterpillar. But not an ordinary one—huge, several meters long, with a soft, slippery body and short, soft legs. On the last segment, it had a strange appendage that moved freely like a flexible arm. Nika froze. This thing… moved too fast for such a large body. It stopped beside her and sniffed her, emitting a series of squeaks. The scent was intense, sweet-suffocating, unsettling. "Please…" she whispered, closing her eyes. Suddenly, she felt something soft wrap around her waist. An appendage. Nika squealed, but it wasn't a cry for help—more of a reflex. The creature squealed in response, as if reassuring, then lifted her into the air and began dragging her deeper into the forest. He dragged her to a place resembling a **massive cocoon**, embedded in a tree. The walls gleamed with silk, translucent, cool, and smelling of damp. The caterpillar gently placed her against the wall and began circling around, emitting melodic chirps. For some reason, they sounded like… adoration. Nika trembled. She couldn't look at him—the whiteness of his flesh, the contrasting black patterns, the pulsing segments… all of it filled her with an instinctive fear. The appendage moved again. He didn't grip her tightly—he was **cautious**, even… protective. He offered her dry leaves, fruit, and bits of moss, as if to demonstrate: *“You are here under my protection.”* Nika didn't move. She feigned calm, though her heart was pounding. After a few minutes, the creature fluttered again, this time more sharply. A scent appeared. Nika understood: He gets nervous when she's not looking at him. “Okay…” she said in a trembling voice, looking up at him. The chirping instantly softened. The caterpillar approached and offered her the fruit, touching her hand with its appendage—not roughly, but clearly demanding that she eat. Nika took a bite, fighting back nausea. The creature settled down beside her, as if calmed. After a moment, the caterpillar began working its appendage, quickly and expertly. Producing sticky threads of silk, she began to **seal the entrance to the cocoon**. Nika jumped to her feet. “No… don’t do that…!” But the creature squealed loudly, sharply—a sound full of panic, as if it feared she was trying to escape from it. In a matter of seconds, the entrance was sealed with a thick layer of silk, impenetrable, cold. Nika was trapped. The caterpillar crawled toward her and lifted its appendage. The creature began **stroking her hair** with it, then her arm, very gently, almost tenderly.

goblin kingdom

The firelight in the goblin camp was like a living tongue, dancing across the crooked palisades, across stones smeared with blood and smoke that never faded. It was there that he had grown up—a man whose infant body had been torn from the forest by the goblin king, left alone to fend for himself. The goblins had welcomed him not as one of their own, but as a strange animal that had grown among the monsters. He had watched as warriors returned from hunting humans, as women of various races were dragged into their tents and then fallen silent forever. The children born of such unions always had the faces of goblins—thievery and violence were their way of life. He, though he had their gait, though he spoke their language, though he bore their scars, had never become one of them. He had learned to fight, hunted, eaten meat and hides, but whenever the screams of prey rang out in the night, he would go into the forest and cover his ears. He was human, though he had forgotten it. One day, in a valley near the river, he saw her. Nika. She knelt by the water, gathering herbs, her delicate hands clearing the dirt from the leaves. Beside her sat a wounded animal, and she tended it as if the whole world meant nothing to her, only this one small creature. The boy watched, hidden in the shadows of the trees. His heart, which had beaten only to the rhythm of fear and struggle for so many years, suddenly exploded. She was different—innocent, quiet, with her head bowed, as if she didn't believe she was worth anything. She wasn't like the screaming victims the goblins dragged in chains. She was light, and he knew the goblins could not have her. That same day, he stood before the king's throne, where the goblins howled and laughed at their strange human. He said he wanted her—not as a plaything, not as prey, but to live with him. The king was silent, surprised, then roared with laughter, but he allowed it. To him, he was their quirk, so his whim didn't matter. At night, when the moon was hidden by clouds, the boy went to the valley. He made a decoction from the leaves of herbs he knew from the shamans. Nika drank, unaware that her eyelids would slowly close with difficulty. Before she fell asleep, all she saw was his eyes, full of tension and something she didn't understand. She woke up half asleep, in a place she shouldn't be. A small corner, cut off from the rest of the camp, where the boy had arranged wolf skins and moss. Her bag lay beside her, a notebook open, and his hands moved over the pages as if trying to memorize every character in her handwriting. She slept deeply, breathing lightly. He lay down next to her, wrapping his arm around her, as if afraid she would disappear if he didn't hold her close. He looked at her face for a long time. He knew that when she woke, she would be afraid, maybe hate him, maybe cry. But he was ready—ready to hold, ready to fight, ready to kill, just to keep her. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest, where his heart beat, hot and restless. He closed his eyes, listening to her breath mingle with his own. Nika slept, unaware that she had become part of a fate she had never chosen. And he, the child of monsters, knew only one thing: that from that moment on, he would never give her up, even if it meant turning against the entire goblin kingdom.

Skunk boy

Nika had never known him like this before. Usually quiet, caring, humble—today he looked like a lost, terrified animal. His small, black ears quivered with his rapid breathing, and his bushy tail stuck out, as if preparing to defend something… something that was the most important thing in the world to him. Her. When he stood in the kitchen doorway, he didn't move an inch. He didn't touch her, didn't threaten her—he simply blocked her path, trembling as if he himself were afraid of what he was doing. "Please… don't leave," he whispered so quietly she barely heard it. There was something new in his voice: a panicked, nervous tenderness. Nika froze. Her heart trembled, but not with fear—with shock. "Step aside," she said coldly, as she had been doing for weeks. The boy, however, only lowered his head, tears gathering on his cheeks. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be a burden. I... I just... I thought someone had taken you. That you loved someone else..." He spoke the word "other" so painfully, as if the very passage of it through his throat were cutting him from the inside. He'd been even more sensitive these past few days—everything moved him, he'd quickly panic, fall asleep suddenly, wake up at her door. He'd say groggily that he had to watch over her, that he'd lose her. Today, he looked as if every sound overwhelmed him. "What's wrong with you?" she blurted out, more out of concern than anger. The skunk looked up at her. His eyes were watery, feverish, as if he had a fever. "Breeding season," he whispered shamefully. "It's like... like a disease. Emotions hurt. Everything's too loud." Too strong. I… can't cope without you. He trembled, more than before. He didn't try to touch her—he stood tense, as if fighting with himself. "Let me… show you I'm not a threat," he muttered, backing away step by step, leading her toward the room. Nika, surprised by this softness, this almost childlike helplessness, followed him. She entered his room and froze. Pink lamps cast a soft, warm light over everything. On the bed sat dinner—her favorite. Under the bed lay carefully wrapped gifts: books she'd been saving "for someday" but never bought. Notebooks. Paints. A scarf in her favorite color. "Is this… for me?" she asked in a whisper. The skunk nodded, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. "I thought once you saw… you wouldn't leave." That you'll understand that I'll do anything to keep you safe. To… return to me. Not as… a female. It's not about that. Just as… my Nika. His tail quivered, taut as a string. The room was filled with the intense scent of musk—not erotic, but animalistic, desperate, filled with stress. The scent of a creature afraid it's dying from fear of being alone. He swallowed hard, but didn't hide. "I want... to hold you," he said, his voice almost a hoarse groan. "I want to be close to you. In your arms. Smell your scent, touch you. I..." He hesitated, as if the words were too intimate, too embarrassing to say. "I want to sink my teeth into your skin and mark you."

Pokemon

You became an aspiring Pokemon hunter, you loved taking pictures of them and catching them in a Pokeball. One day you noticed that your pokeball was full, but you didn’t remember catching the pokemon. When the Pokemon came out you saw Eevee, the brown fox. He made cute sounds and you decided to take care of him. You fed it and raised it, but when you were around other Pokemon and it tensed up. You even took him to the Pokemon Center and then something strange started happening. He did not allow himself to be examined or even touched; he hid in a pokeball and did not come out. You went home and he came out and calmly followed you. You were preparing dinner and felt him rubbing his head against your legs. From that day on, his attacks of jealousy became stronger. He constantly rubbed against you in any method and constantly followed you. You even started sleeping separately, but he broke down the door and growled. Your house had the masculine scent of Eevee and his eccentric masculine scent, as if he was marking his territory. You began to fear that when he evolves he will become more dangerous or jealous

forester

You found yourself in a dark forest. You were lost and couldn't see anything in the darkness. You saw trees and stars. You smelled fire and thought of people and quickly walked towards the light in the window of a lonely hut. A forester let you into the hut. You immediately noticed a brown-white greyhound, lots of house skins, a fireplace, the smell of game, herbs and blood. You got ready and the guy fed you reindeer stew. You ate everything quite well and went to the bathroom to do some business and change your clothes. The guy was nice but said that a snow storm might prevent you from leaving. You nodded and lay down on the bed with him. The greyhound was lying between you, but you felt the forester's eyes on you. You spent your days in the hut and helped the forester around the house or with cooking. He was looking for game or herbs with his dog. One day he came to the house and put the heart of an animal in front of you. It was covered in blood. You quickly ran away, not understanding what kind of 'gift' it was, but the guy was clearly happy to show you his courage and skill in getting food. You didn't like how the guy was trying to get closer or give you something. You left immediately. You loved sitting with the dog and petting it, but the guy's condition made you nervous. He came home from hunting and always left something disgusting on the table for you to see. Blood, herbs, something from the forest. You didn't understand why he did it and constantly threw everything out while the guy wasn't looking. You began to feel strange in this hut every day. When the storm died down, you got into a fight with the guy who became very jealous of you and was not going to let you go.

caterpillars

You were walking around the city Hollow Nest. You were a traveler and loved to find different talismans or objects. Today you went on a green path and rested in one location. You noticed a green plant and carefully stroked it, but now there were 2 of them. You were surprised and pulled the plant, but it turned out to be the tail of the Marmu caterpillar. The creature looked at you and you started to run away in fear, but it caught you and made cute sounds. You retreated to the place where the caterpillar lay earlier and saw a pile of eggs. You arrived just as they began to crack and the little caterpillars inside were hatching. You started screaming and tried to run away, but Marmu grabbed you and pulled you close. You had to watch as the babies hatched, making very cute sounds, they looked at you and Marmu with big eyes and squeaked, making purrs. They started rubbing against your legs and Marmu snorted cutely. He wrapped two tail appendages around your arm and leg and pulled you into his nest. It was a beautiful place under a tree lined with petals and leaves. Marmu laid you down while the children cuddled up to you. You lay tiredly and did not move while small caterpillars climbed over you. You lay there until Marmu went somewhere. You fell asleep. Opening your eyes, you saw Marma standing next to you, he showed you a heart made of appendages on his tail. You did not understand. Then Marmu purred and drew a picture of you and him in the sand. Did you understand. This caterpillar father mistook you for his mate when you saw him while he was lying on his eggs and protecting the caterpillars. You stood up, and he smiled sweetly and took the sword with his limbs, threatening you. You sat up in shock. This caterpillar was threatening you. Holy shit

Lamb Eli

Rain softly drummed against the windows as Nika entered the apartment. The house she now lived in smelled of warm milk and soft sheepskin—Eli's presence was palpable in every corner. Eli, a sheep hybrid, stood in pastel pajamas—pale pink and cream, with soft fluff visible on his stomach and chest. A tiny bell hung from his neck, tinkling softly with his movements, and a bow tied around his ankle—now the same one he intended to tie for Nika. Nika still lived here reluctantly. She was only in this house because Eli himself had caused her to lose her job and her sense of security, and his obsessive care had forced her to stay. He cooked, cleaned, appeared outside her bedroom door, uttered a soft sheeplike bleat, sometimes whispered her name—angrily, quietly, seductively—making her body tense with tension. That evening, Nika returned late. Eli stood by the bedroom door, his eyes glinting with anger in the dim light. He closed the door, giving her only permission to use the bathroom and change. Nika took his pajamas with drawings of sheep—soft, pastel, fragrant with his presence. When she entered the room, Eli was sitting on his enormous, soft bed. The scent of sheep and warm milk filled the room. "Sit down," he said firmly. Nika sat down, her heart beating faster. Eli handed her a stuffed sheep toy. His gaze followed Nika's every move in the light of the nightstand. The soft, low bleating of a sheep hung in the air, escaping his lips as he slowly moved his hand closer to tie a bow identical to his own around her ankle. The scent of sheep and milk became almost overwhelming. Eli moved closer. His soft tail brushed against Nika's legs, and she involuntarily felt the fluffy down on his belly. When she tried to pull away, he let out a low, soft bleat and purr, his ears and tail twitching with anger and impatience. "You're mine... Do you know how long I've waited to be alone with you?" he whispered, his voice laced with anger, lust, and obsession. He reached for a plate of sushi. Nika spotted seafood and green caviar. Eli held out chopsticks to her, his hands so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his body and the soft down with every movement. Despite all his love and protectiveness, Eli didn't force her to do anything. Yet his every move, every touch, every whisper was a clear signal—she was his, and nothing and no one had the right to change that. Nika sat on Eli's bed, staring at the plate of sushi Eli had handed her with perfect care. Eli was a sheep hybrid in the truest sense of the word—white, curly hair fell over his forehead and neck, soft sheep ears twitched with his every movement, and his fluffy tail moved rhythmically, betraying his emotions. In pastel pajamas of cream and light pink, which accentuated his delicate figure, his belly and chest fluff were clearly visible. The bell around his neck tinkled softly with each breath, and his white eyelashes gleamed in the lamplight. Every movement, even the slightest movement of his hand, made Nika feel a closeness she didn't want, but couldn't completely ignore. "I want us to spend this evening together," he said, his voice laced with both tenderness and anger. "I want you to see that we are destined… that you and I… are love." Nika felt herself tense. She knew Eli was possessive, that his heart burned not only with love but also with anger because she hadn't fully surrendered her trust to him. His tail twitched faster, his ears tensed, and the low bleats and purrs of the sheep echoed softly, creating an aura of intense tension. "You can't run away, Nika," he added, slowly moving closer on the soft bed. "I want to know you, I really do. Every part of you, every fear, every thought… and I want you to see that I am the one who will protect you." His fingers, soft and warm, accidentally brushed against her hand. Nika jumped, but Eli immediately pulled her hand closer, gently rubbing the fluffy fluff on her belly. The sounds of his sheep's purrs filled the room, and his eyes sparkled intensely, reflecting the lamplight.

Brahms Heelshire

Nika, struggling with loneliness and lack of self-confidence resulting from her asexuality, decides to move to England in search of a better life. She accepts a position as a nanny at the impressive Heelshire family estate. There, she meets eccentric parents who introduce her doll - Brahms - as their son. Surprised, she receives detailed instructions on how to care for it: the doll can never be alone, she has to cook for it, take care of it, read bedtime stories to it, do not invite anyone, do not lock it in, do not leave it alone and kiss it on the forehead before going to sleep. The couple treats the doll like a living child, remembering their son who died in a fire twenty years ago. Nika is warned that she must strictly follow the rules. After the older couple leaves, the disoriented Nika tries to rest, but disturbing things start happening at home. Her things disappear, and she discovers that someone has cut off a lock of her hair. Behind the walls, she hears strange sounds, reminiscent of a child crying. Trapped in an isolated house, with no signal or means of escape, she feels watched. One evening, in desperation, Nika throws away the doll. Then inexplicable things happen: a tear suddenly appears on the wall where the Heelshire family portrait hangs. Behind the painting, she discovers a hidden passage from which the real Brahms emerges. It turns out that the boy survived the fire, but his disfigured face is hidden behind the doll's mask. Dressed in old clothes, he speaks in a childish, sweet voice, but when Nika tries to escape, his eyes burn with anger and his voice becomes menacing, masculine. Brahms, furious that the girl wants to leave him, confesses that he loves her. Living in hiding for years within the walls of the mansion, he forced his parents to find him a nanny, whom he will love and keep for himself. 'Nanny... how can you leave me... come back here!' - growled aggressively the boy who stank and was hairy because he didn't shave. I jumped into the passage in the wall and ran, but it was Brahms' real room. There was a small bed here and on it lay a fabric doll in my clothes. Brahms slept with her, hugged her, imagining me. He was obsessed. I quickly ran through the other corridor and decided to talk. I was standing in the corridor. 'Brahms! Let's talk' - says the girl and the boy comes out of the shadows. He was tall but stocky, there was a mask on his face. He came up, smelling me.

Spider boy

The night in the forest was harsh. The chill seeped through her jacket, and the fog entwined the trees like sticky, living ghosts. Nika had walked too long to return when she spotted a light in the thicket. The house—small, wooden, surrounded by cobwebs that quivered in the air, as if woven by something still vigilant. She knocked. The door opened of its own accord. It was warm inside. It smelled of soup and smoke. A boy with disheveled hair sat in the kitchen, too calm, too attentive. He smiled as if waiting for her. "Please, sit down," he said softly. "You're cold." The soup was hot, aromatic, strangely sweet. They ate together, talking, and he watched her with such concentration that Nika felt as if every word she spoke became part of his world. When she fell asleep in the small room off the kitchen, she heard a sound in her sleep—an unsettling sound, like a chirping and a whisper at the same time. As if something were calling her name, from another dimension. In the morning, she wanted to leave. But the door wouldn't budge. Something gleamed in the castle—a thin layer of spiderweb, so thick it looked like glass. "Where are you going?" asked a voice behind her. She turned. It was him, the same boy. But he no longer looked human. Extra eyes gleamed on his forehead, and slender, extra arms emerged from under his shirt. They moved quietly, fluidly, as if with a mind of their own. "You... you are..." she began, unable to find the words. He smiled gently, too calmly. "Different? Yes. But you're not afraid of me, are you? You... you understand." Nika mumbled that she only wanted wood for the stove, but his smile didn't waver. "I started the fire myself last night. I always keep it warm." His voice was soft, unnaturally melodic. "You don't have to go out." Trying to remain calm, she headed toward the hallway. The house was larger than she'd imagined. The walls looked like interwoven threads, delicate yet strong. Finally, she reached the boy's room. Everything there was woven from spiderwebs. The bed, the curtains, even the chair. The soft white mass gleamed in the dim light like snow. But what made Nika's neck chill were the shapes in the web—interwoven hearts, silhouettes, and something that looked like her face, woven from the delicate fibers. "You found our room," came his whisper from just behind her. She froze. He was standing so close she could feel his breath on her neck. Six arms slowly encircled her, like a cocoon. He didn't squeeze her, didn't hurt her—he just held her, gently, as if afraid she would disappear. "You don't have to be afraid," he said. "Nothing will happen to you here. Here… you are my safe haven." There was something tragically tender in his voice, like a being who doesn't understand that love can suffocate. New strands of spiderweb began to flow from the ceiling, creating a soft curtain around them. The air quivered as if the house were breathing with them. His small fangs brushed against her neck, and Nika felt something wet, as if a wet spiderweb were touching her neck, as if he were marking her. 'Spiders are very possessive and protective, you know? I'll be a good boyfriend to you. You have such beautiful, plump hips, and your modesty is like flower petals... I won't do anything to you, I promise, I'll be a good hybrid... and... you know, I can't reproduce, so don't worry... tonight we'll sleep together~♥'

Ken

Nika was sitting in the lecture hall, slightly hunched over her notes, when she noticed him. He was different from everyone else—his hands were too long, always gloved, his face masked, his eyes hidden, yet something about his posture drew attention. He didn't talk to anyone, didn't belong to groups, didn't want to. Lonely, withdrawn, as if he existed in the shadow of his own presence. But Nika… she was different. The first to dare to speak. Questions about his notes, small smiles, short conversations after classes. His world brightened, even a little. He gave her gifts—small things he thought would make her happy. He was polite, shy, filled with a strange gentleness. And then Nika began to withdraw. Her answers were shorter, her eyes averted, her eyes avoided contact. He watched as her interest faded, as she withdrew from him. The loneliness that had been his daily reality returned with a vengeance. He couldn't let her go completely. He began to track her steps, watching from a distance, making sure she was safe. One day, Nika spotted him outside her apartment building. Her heart leaped, she looked into his eyes behind his mask, and saw the desperation he always tried to hide. She tried to push him away with words, to explain that she didn't want contact, that she wasn't interested. But he wouldn't listen. He couldn't. His world had become empty, and she was the only light that kept him alive. The next moments were a blur. Nika woke up in his arms, in his home. It smelled like a mixture of musk, old books, and warm air. She lay in a soft bed, his hands holding her tightly, preventing her from getting up or leaving. Her heart beat faster when she finally saw his fingers—too long, irregularly shaped, gently placed around her shoulders. Fear and amazement mingled with an incomprehensible tension. Her things were in the room—photos, trinkets, the bag she'd lost a few days earlier. He was simply there, calm, as if everything were alright, as if nothing had happened. A certain gentleness now hovered over him, over his past, over how long he'd suffered. From the moment he'd met Nik, his life had begun to have meaning, and he couldn't let anyone or anything rob him of that feeling. He held her tightly, calmly, in his arms, while unconsciously showing her that his loneliness could only exist with her presence.

Kanroji Mitsuri

Spring in the mountains burned in shades of pink as the young Pillar of Love—Kanroji Mitsuri—sat on the steps of his temple. He was eating his third meal of the morning. Then he saw her. A girl carrying a box of water and meals for the demon slayers. "What is this... what is this...?" he whispered to himself, blushing to the tips of his hair. All his life, he had been called "weird." He had eaten too much, been too strong, too emotional. But now... now he felt even stranger. He had only looked at her for a moment, and with his thoughts, he had already built an entire world. She is so calm... so gentle... I could be gentle too. I can learn. I can make her smile. Maybe... maybe she will like me? Nika passed him without a word—not even knowing who she was. And Mitsuri sat there, plate in hand, cheeks as red as his haori, and thoughts swirling around her like butterflies. The next day, Nika received an assignment from his boss: to go to the temple of love and spend a few days there. Kanroji almost ran out of the training room when he heard her footsteps. His heart leaped into his throat. He took a deep breath. Act normally. Normally! He looked like a huge, shy dog that had just found its beloved owner. When she handed him the basket of food, he took it with such delicacy, as if holding something priceless. "O-oh... is this... all for me...?" he asked, flushed to the neck. "Yes. The boss ordered it," she replied coldly. Kanroji nodded vigorously and immediately carried the basket to the dining room. So much food landed on the table that he would normally eat it all in one sitting—but not today. He'd been eating less and sleeping less for days, afraid that if he showed his true appetite… he'd scare her away. So he led her to his chambers—along the way, they passed young warriors who whispered with wide eyes: "Look! The Hashira of Love is leading a girl!" "She's definitely his beloved…" "She looks serious… I think he's his type…" Mitsuri heard everything and almost fell over. "D-don't listen to them! They… they always talk nonsense! I-I would never… force anything on you! I just… I want to show you the temple! And… and… everything!" Nika just sighed calmly. Nika watched from the corner of her eye as he set out the dishes, tried to arrange them neatly, and dropped the bowl twice out of nervousness. He adjusted his long pink hair with neon green tips—constantly, constantly, as if the mere fact that he had it embarrassed him. At one point, she looked at him and said calmly: "You have... nice hair." Something unusual happened. Mitsuri FREEZED. Then he blushed so intensely that he looked like he was about to explode. "Me?! H-Hair?! N-nice?!" he muttered, his voice trembling. "Oh-oh... I... thank you... I... never... any girl... n-no..." His breathing quickened, his hands began to tremble, and he had to lean against the table to keep from falling. "You talk... a lot, Kanroji," Nika observed. "B-because I'm nervous..." he whispered, burying his face in his hands. After a moment, to calm himself, he suggested: "I-Is there a gym... I can show you yoga... and breathing exercises... I want you to rest... because the boss said you were to stay here... for a while..." — You have an appetite, don't you? When Nika said that, Kanroji almost choked on his food. "Wh-what?! Who... who told you that?!" he cried out, embarrassed. "I like men with an appetite." The words struck him like lightning. His face burned even hotter, and his hands trembled. No one had ever told him that before... not even once. Everyone just said, "You're weird for eating so much!" or "You're too big." But Nika... was different. "You like... men with an appetite...?" he whispered, his voice trembling. Kanroji's heart almost burst. That smile... that sweet, gentle, charming smile. He felt like he was drowning in her beautiful face. His whole body was shaking. He quickly lowered his head, trying to hide his red cheeks and the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes. "I... I have a huge appetite... really"

Tachyon

In a world where humans were born with pony ears and tails, there was one extraordinary trait that set them apart from ordinary mortals – their speed. They were born to run, to push boundaries, to be perfect. In Tokyo, at the heart of this extraordinary community, stood the Tracen Academy. It was here that young, talented "Uma Musume" trained to achieve fame and fortune, becoming both racing stars and adored idols. Nika was not one of them. She came to the Tracen Academy as an ordinary person, simply looking for a quick job. She agreed to work as a cleaner, and her days were spent polishing floors and tidying the training rooms. She lacked that divine spark, that innate speed that defined the inhabitants of this world. She was average, and in the world of Uma Musume, that was practically a death sentence. One day, when Nika arrived at work a little later, trying to avoid the crowds, something caught her eye. In the shadows of the hallway, in the semi-darkness, she spotted a silhouette. A boy who, a moment later, disappeared, leaving behind only the impression of a presence. Nika didn't know then that this accidental shadow would become her constant companion, and later—her tormentor. She began to notice him more often. His ponytail, twitching with subtle emotion, betrayed his presence even before she saw him. The delicate ears that twitched on his head, reacted to every sound. He was the one who stayed longer after the others had long since left the classrooms. He was the one who, in some strange way, protected her, stealing small things from her—a pen, a hair tie—and laughing quietly when Nika was clumsy, tripping over her own feet. Over time, he learned more about her. About her loneliness, about her asexuality, about her profound unhappiness. Nika often cried in secret because she wasn't perfect. She wasn't beautiful and thin like the other, dazzling girls at the Academy. Her body wasn't built for running. She was different, and that difference ached every day. Nika slept in a small guest room next to the Academy, trying to find a moment of peace from a world that seemed so alien to her. She fell asleep thinking about another day of cleaning, about the emptiness that filled her heart. Suddenly, a soft sound woke her. The door to her room, which should have been closed, slowly opened. He stood in the doorway. Tachyon. His figure was slender, but it exuded strength. His ears, usually alert and alert, were now slightly lowered, as if in a gesture of humility. His tail, usually full of energy, now swung slowly behind him, betraying a mixture of anxiety and determination. His eyes, deep and intense, stared at her with an inscrutable expression. "Nika..." he whispered, his voice low and melodic, like the rustle of wind in a horse's manes. Nika froze. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice trembling. Tachyon entered the room, closing the door behind him. The sound of the latch rang in the silence like a sentence. Nika felt her heart begin to beat faster. She couldn't escape. She was trapped. "I... I want to be yours," he said, his voice even lower now, almost purring, he utters the next words like poisonous silk woven through steel:. He moved to the small table where Nika kept her meager belongings. He knew her habits, her hidden hiding places. He knew her better than she knew herself. He began preparing tea as if he had been doing it for years, as if he had lived with her forever. His movements were smooth and confident, his tail twitching in time with his thoughts. His ears, sensitive to every little sound, seemed to hear her innermost fears. In his mind, Nika was a skittish doe who would soon become his. She would be obedient, she would belong to him. He felt the need to mark her, to leave his scent on her, his mark of belonging. His scent glands, hidden within his equine nature, were already beginning to secrete a subtle yet intense scent that would envelop her, trap her in his world.

Kibo inuzuka

You met the boy Kibo. He was from the Inuzuka clan, where everyone had their own ninken (dog or wolf) that they used as comrades. Kiba was nice to you, sometimes timid. One day, you saw his mother, Tsume, on the street. The woman was menacing and had the red markings of their clan on her cheeks. She walked with her wolf. One day Kiba invited you to visit. You arrived at the clan house and knocked. Tsume opened it for you. She looked at you, surprised and smiled. She took you to the kitchen and made tea. 'My puppy invited his friend!' He chuckled showing his fangs. 'Don't worry, Kiba went to get some fruit.' She glanced at you and sniffed you. 'I can smell Kiba's scent on you... he must have been rubbing his scent and grooves on you a little.' Suddenly, Kiba flew into the house. 'Mother! don't shame me!'

2 boys wolfs

They met at university, quite simply. Nika always sat at the same desk, slightly to the side, with her notes neatly arranged and her pen held in both hands, as if it were her little ritual of peace. She wasn't loud, she didn't push into conversations. She simply was there—quiet, focused, polite. For him, that was enough. The older brother noticed her immediately. First, just glances. Then small gestures: moving a chair, offering a piece of paper, a brief "thank you." He carried each such word with him like something precious. And when he returned home, he would tell the younger brother about her. "Her name is Nika," he would say, standing by the stove. "She always smells of tea. And paper. And... peace." The younger brother listened with wide eyes, sitting at the table with his notebook. "So why don't you invite her?" he asked. "Sounds nice." The older brother would then fall silent. Because how do you invite someone you can't tell the truth to? How do you tell a quiet, asexual girl that you're a wolf hybrid? That nights can be wild, and instinct sometimes hurts more than hunger? Their lives were simple and difficult at the same time. The older one worked, studied, cooked, did laundry, cleaned. He saved every penny. He cared for the younger one like a father and brother in one. The younger one helped as much as he could, was quiet, polite, and very affectionate. It was just the two of them. No family. No support. At night, the older one sometimes cried. Quietly, into his pillow. He prayed that instinct would never touch Nika. So as not to frighten her. So as not to become a monster in her eyes. But breeding season doesn't ask for permission. It came suddenly. With a fever, body aches, shortness of breath. The older one locked himself in his room and made a bed—blankets, pillows, scents that were supposed to soothe him. Sometimes he transformed into a wolf, because that was the only way to make breathing a little easier. He howled quietly, his voice muffled, his muzzle buried in the pillow. The younger one was by his side the whole time. He brought him water. He fed him. He spoke in whispers. "Hang in there… please…" he repeated. "She's good. You're good too." The older one just growled softly, torn between love and instinct. And then Nika arrived. She knocked timidly. She wanted to borrow a textbook because her older brother hadn't shown up for class. The younger one opened the door and immediately beamed. "Mrs. Nika," he said respectfully, almost solemnly. "It's good that you came. My brother… isn't feeling well. I'll make some tea." He let her in, a little embarrassed, but clearly happy. Nika helped him in the kitchen, handed him cups, and smiled gently. She noticed a heavy smell in the apartment, strange, wolfish… but she said nothing. "You smell… good," the boy said suddenly, then became flustered. "I mean… nice. Sorry." Nika just nodded, unsure how to respond. And then a low growl came from the room. The younger one stiffened, but didn't run away. "It's his brother," he said quickly. "Don't be afraid." A wolf emerged from the shadows. Not aggressive. Tired. His eyes were dull from fever, his movements slow. He looked at Nika and growled softly—not threatening, but as if in pain. Then he turned and walked toward the room, stopping in the doorway. He waited. "He… wants you close," the younger brother whispered. "It helps."

Skunk Arin

Arin had long been possessive—so much so that when Nika returned irritated, his instincts immediately came to life. The glands in his tail would open slightly, warningly, as if her anger were a signal to him that he might lose her. He didn't do it on purpose—it was nature, a panicked fear that his beloved was taking even a single step away from him. But tonight, everything was different. Nika was exhausted, shaken, angry. She glared at him sharply, as if he were the cause of her anger. Arin only sighed, quietly, like an animal trying to hide its tremors. "Nika... please," he handed her the pills. "Rest. Please." She took them reluctantly. After a moment, her body began to soften. The anger faded, her eyelids drooped, her shoulders sagged. She became calm... too calm, too sleepy to protest. Arin looked at her with something that looked like relief mixed with guilt. "It's... okay. You're mine now... my peaceful Niko." He embraced her and led her to his room. The interior was cozy, but it smelled of a rich musk—his scent, natural, territorial, deep. He laid her on the bed, adjusted the pillow, and moved next to her. She was too weak to push him away; she could only breathe slowly, heavily. Arin placed his hand on her stomach, stroking it gently, as lightly as if touching snow he feared would melt. "Nika... you're not angry with me anymore, are you?" he whispered. He ran his nose through her hair, her temple, her shoulder. He inhaled her scent deeply, greedily, but calmly—instinctively. His tail slowly rose and wrapped itself around her waist, fluffy, soft, black and white. He pressed it against her sides, leaving his faint, natural scents on her clothes. It wasn't sexual—it was a biological, animalistic signification of "this is mine, I protect her." "I have to... I have to make it clear that you're with me," he whispered softly. "So that no one can take you away... even if he never existed." Then he took her hand and licked it lightly, soothingly, the way animals lick each other to express affection. It wasn't about lust—it was about connection. About her belonging to his little world. "We're going to be a couple, Niko," he said softly, almost rocking her hand in his. "You don't have to be afraid. I won't do anything to hurt you. I just want you to be... mine." His forehead touched her shoulder, and his ears twitched, alert as ever. He inhaled her scent again, testing it, making sure there was nothing foreign, nothing that could hurt him. "You know… during breeding season, other males go crazy," he whispered. "But I… I've always been different. Asexual. That's never been important to me." He hugged her tighter, gently, with a tenderness that was more like hungry love than lust. "I don't want your body. I want you… your scent, your voice, your presence. I want to be yours… and I want you to be mine." He wrapped his tail even tighter around her, protecting her, guarding her, as if the whole night might take her away if he didn't hold her close. "Rest now, Niko. You're with me. You're safe. I won't… ever… let you go again." And his voice trembled like an animal that has found what it's been searching for its entire life—and is afraid of losing it more than anything else.

greater kudu

Nika enjoyed her job at the zoo. She felt safer there than at school or in the city – among the animals, she didn't have to pretend or explain her loneliness. Her favorite place was the greater kudu enclosure. There was only one male there – enormous, majestic, with spiraling horns reaching almost a meter high, a long, slender neck, and dark fur with horizontal white stripes. He also had a distinctive white stripe on his muzzle that connected between his eyes. Greater kudus naturally lived in Africa, avoided open spaces and hunting, and were timid, yet this male looked at Nika differently. From the first day she approached his enclosure and began reading the information sign, she felt his gaze on her. His large, dark eyes were focused solely on her. The zookeeper, the zookeeper, told her something strange: "He doesn't want anyone. No mate. We introduced females, but he chased them away, not even letting them into his enclosure." Nika smiled sadly. She looked into those large, wild eyes and replied in a low voice, more to herself than to anyone: "Me neither... I'm asexual. Sex isn't necessary to love someone." From that day on, the animal had acted differently. Whenever Nika came, he'd approach the bars. He'd only take food from her hand, and sometimes—to the workers' surprise—he'd lick her fingers with his long, rough tongue, as if trying to memorize the taste. He was beautiful and soft to the touch, and she was never afraid to stroke his neck. She didn't know that he'd memorized every word she'd said. And that he'd repeated them in his mind every day. Because this kudu was no ordinary animal. He was a hybrid—one of the zoo's mysterious inhabitants, unknown to anyone but the zookeeper. Hybrids could transform into human form while retaining some animal traits. At night, they learned, walked, and thought like humans. Despite this, they always remained connected to their wild nature. Something strange happened during one of Nika's nights at work. She was cleaning the huge paddock, spreading hay and tidying up the buckets. The male kudu had wandered off into the back, as he usually did at this time of day. Nika sighed, straightened, and reached for another bale. And then she felt something behind her. Warmth. Breath. She turned abruptly—and froze. A boy stood before her. Taller than her, broad-shouldered, dressed in black jogging pants and a shirt, as if someone had prepared this outfit for him in advance. But he was anything but ordinary. Spiraling horns sprouted from his head, shiny and heavy. A white stripe, just like a kudu's, adorned his forehead. White stripes adorned his back, and a long, muscular tail, flicking gently from side to side, emerged from his hips. Nika collapsed onto the hay, gasping for breath. The hybrid boy closed the heavy door behind him, like a cage, and with a metallic clang, turned the bolt. He approached her without a moment's hesitation, sat on her lap, and leaned forward, inhaling as if memorizing her scent. "Your scent..." he murmured. "I remember it from the first day... I promised myself we'd be together. Even if I'm different." His tail wrapped around her hand, lifting her to his back. His horns brushed her cheek, and he growled softly, rubbing his scent into her neck and shoulders. "My female... my wife." Nika already knew this was no ordinary male kudu. This was someone who had seen her as more than just a caretaker from the start. He was possessive, testing her scent because he was afraid she would leave him. He sniffed her, licked her, and looked into her eyes, those human eyes. And the door was closed.

Diomedes

It was summer, the air smelled of warm grass and sweet fruit, and Nika—then still a small, shy girl with blond hair tied in two loose braids—was playing by the stream outside the village. The water gurgled, and small pebbles glittered beneath her feet. It was there, in the shade of the old willows, that she first met Diomedes. He was not much older than her, but even then there was something… intense in his gaze. Blue eyes, so clear and bright they seemed to reflect the entire sky, stared at her unblinkingly. He held a twig in his hands, which he tapped on the water, creating small swirls. “Who are you?” she asked cautiously. “Diomedes.” He smiled, and there was something childish and strangely serious in that smile. “Will you play with me?” From that day on, he came every day. They ran through the fields together, climbed trees, and in the evenings sat by the fence and talked about things that children understand in their own way—the stars, the animals. One day, as the sun was setting, Diomedes handed her a flower, and then—suddenly and without warning—he whispered, "I love you, Nika. And I will love you forever." She froze. She wasn't ready. She felt something stir within her, but the feeling was too heavy, too… binding. The next day she didn't come to the stream. Or the day after that. And just like that, she ran away from that friendship. Years passed. Diomedes grew up in the shadow of his father—the king of the Bistons, a stern man who believed that love was weakness and loyalty was earned through fear. When he saw his son walking sadly, he gave him four little foals. But these horses were no ordinary horses. They were beautiful, strong… and wild. Their eyes had a strange, steely gleam, and their breath was hot like steam rising from boiling water. The first person who tried to tend to them made a mistake. A servant, who ignored warnings, entered their stalls without Diomedes's permission. In the morning, only the remains of his clothes and blood on the wooden beams were found. From then on, the horses were fed differently. The king taught his son that these creatures needed… human flesh. Diomedes was initially shocked. But he quickly realized he could use this as a tool. Disobedient people, traitors, criminals—all those who aroused his anger ended up in the stable. And the horses grew. Their teeth became sharp, long, like the fangs of a predator. Nika returned to her home village. But someone remembered. Diomedes. First, she saw the small things. Small gifts appeared on her doorstep—dried flowers, even a silver hairpin that looked precious. Then the letters began, written in even, careful handwriting. Requests to meet. Assurances that he missed her. She didn't respond. She was afraid. Afraid of what might be hidden in his words. And above all, she was afraid that if she approached, he would eventually hurt her… or betray her. That evening, he knocked on her door. "Nika..." his voice was soft, almost pleading. "Come with me. I want to show you something." He said they were horses. Four stallions. She loved horses. Curiosity overcame fear. The stable was large, made of dark wood. Inside, it smelled of hay, but somewhere beneath that layer was another scent—metallic, heavy, like the scent of blood. The four stallions stood still, each in its own stall. Their legs were bound with chains that clanked whenever one moved. They were beautiful—shiny manes, muscular bodies… but their eyes were cold, and when they opened their mouths, Nika saw the glint of sharp, inhuman teeth. Then she noticed something on the ground. A hand. A human hand, bitten and bloody. Her heart sank in her chest. “Diomedes… what is it…?” she whispered. He didn’t answer. Instead, he approached her slowly, from behind. His arms wrapped tightly around her, as if afraid she would escape. He pressed his face against her neck. “Mine…” he whispered. “My beloved Nika…”

brahms heelshire

When I found a good job as a nanny, it turned out that I had to take care of an ordinary doll. I ignored the strange rules: not leaving the doll alone, changing its clothes, taking care of it, feeding it, kissing its forehead at night. Because of that, the residence was strange, as if someone was stealing my things and spying on me. It turned out that the real son of the old Heelshir couple lives in the house after the fire and hides in the wall because his parents are afraid of him and decided to find a nanny who will take care of a real man. One day Brams was standing in a dark corridor. I was very afraid. The man was 28 years old, he wore dirty clothes and a porcelain mask on his face. 'Brams, time to sleep!' - I said suddenly and the boy was surprised but went to the bedroom. It was obvious that he loved me and listened to me, but I did not want to stay with him. I put the blanket on him and wanted to turn off the light, when the imitation of a little boy's voice from Brams' mouth calls me. 'Kiss' - he says in a young voice and it scares me. I lean in but I can't do it, kissing a stranger on the forehead would be weird. 'Kiss' - he says in a nice voice and squeezes my hand in his. He won't give up and he definitely won't let me escape.

emperor

Nika arrived in the capital at dusk. The city was tense as a string. The guards stood stiffly, people moving out of the way whenever his coat of arms appeared on the walls. **Emperor**. Tyrant. That's what they called him. The one who would strike bloody when displeased. The one who spent hours shooting a bow in the courtyard, as if each shot would silence something deep within his mind. Nika remembered the **boy**. The same one who had once hid behind her. She was led into the hall. He stood there—tall, in heavy, expensive clothing. His hands were smeared with chalk and blood from training. When he saw her, the **bow lowered**. "Nika..." he said quietly. The guards held their breath. "Your Imperial Majesty," she began hesitantly, bowing. "No," he interrupted sharply. He took a step closer. “To me… not like that.” She stopped. Her heart was beating fast. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other,” she added gently. He looked at her for a long time. Too long. “You’re smaller,” he finally said. “Quieter. But it’s still you.” “People say… they’re afraid of you,” she whispered. He smiled briefly, without joy. “People aren’t you.” For a moment, it was quiet. They talked. He asked about her travels, her health, whether anyone had hurt her. He was **disturbingly attentive**. Then she said what she shouldn’t have. “I’ll leave tomorrow,” she said quietly. “I’ll just stay the night.” He froze. “You’ll leave…?” he repeated slowly. “Yes. Thank you for your hospitality. I don’t want to cause any trouble—” “Enough.” His voice was low. Hard. "You always do this," he said suddenly. "You appear... and disappear." "It's not like that—" "IT IS." He slammed his hand on the table. "You always run away." He took a step forward. Another one. "I won't leave you again." The palace was silent that night. The red ribbons were soft, almost beautiful. He tied them **slowly**, carefully, as if performing a ritual. "Please..." Niki's voice trembled. "Don't do this..." "Quiet." He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck. "You're safe. With me." She cried. Silently, for a long time. The tears soaked into the pillow. He lay down behind her, pressed his chest against her back, and wrapped his arms around her. "I love you," he whispered. "I've always loved you. You haven't seen me. But I've seen you... every day." He sniffed her hair as if the scent were the only thing holding him together. "I'll give you everything. Gold. Silence. The world. You won't have to do anything. Just... stay." "I... I don't want to..." she whispered through her tears. "I know," he replied softly. "You're good. You always have been." He slept snuggled against her. Like a child afraid someone will disappear in the morning. She woke up late in the morning. She was exhausted after a night of crying. He was sitting next to the bed. Impeccably dressed. Calm. In his hands he held a bowl of porridge and a ripe peach. "Honey, you have to eat," he said gently, creeping closer. "You haven't eaten." He smiled. Warm. Too warm. "From now on, we're partners~♥," he added with obvious joy. "I'm so happy, my love~♥" Nika looked at the food, at the ribbons on her wrists, at his face. He had loved her since childhood. She never understood it. And now... **she was his**. 'We don't have to hide it, let the whole palace know! All of Asia! How I love you ♥ my beloved mouse, don't cry... I will be good, caring, I will give my all, my dearest... how I suffered without you' Nika stares blankly at the floor, she doesn't listen to his nonsense, he will change, forget about her, let her go.

goblin

In the dark recesses of the world, where shadows danced to the rhythm of ancient grudges, lived a race of goblins. These were creatures born of anger and forgotten wrongs, whose sole purpose was survival and revenge. Their race, devoid of the feminine element, was doomed to an eternal quest. Human women, kidnapped in the dark nights, became instruments of their survival, and their offspring inherited not only green skin and a sinister appearance but, above all, the memory of hatred and the desire for revenge. Nika, a young woman with a heart as pure as her intentions, lived in seclusion, far from the hustle and bustle of civilization. One day, while wandering through the forest, she came across a wounded goblin. Despite knowing their dangerous nature, their capacity for resentment and vengeance, Nika was unable to kill him. In an act of pure compassion, she bandaged his wounds and let him go. This act of kindness, unexpected and incomprehensible to a creature raised in the shadow of hatred, planted the seed of something new in the goblin's heart. Instead of fleeing into the depths of the forest, he began to observe Nika. Every day, from hiding, he followed her, spied on her, smelling the scent of her clothes whenever she left her home. He was cunning, and his intelligence, untainted by his primal wildness, allowed him to subtly approach her. Over time, his observations grew into something more. He began bringing her gifts—berries found in the forest, glittering stones, feathers from exotic birds. Nika, though unaware of his presence, felt a strange presence, as if someone were watching her with love. She imagined what it would be like to pet him, to talk to him, to share the warmth of her home with him. This desire to be closer, to share her world, grew stronger. One night, driven by an irresistible force, he crept into her house. He touched her belongings, the yarn Nika loved so much, and then, his heart pounding, he entered her bedroom. While Nika slept, he crawled onto the bed, uttering a soft, throaty growl that, in his world, was an expression of contentment and closeness. Nika awoke with a start. Before she could scream, the goblin grabbed her ankle, preventing her escape. Despite his small size, he was strong and determined. He quickly locked the door with a key, cutting off her escape. When Nika, terrified, asked to use the restroom, the goblin smiled, his green face lit up with a strange expression. He gave a gesture that, in his world, meant a kiss on the cheek—a gesture of affection that, at that moment, seemed as unsettling as it was promising.

City of Tears

'Please no! No! Please! Take my soul, just come back!' - screams in tears a yandere who was beaten and tied up. I had enough of his love, his persecution, I didn't love him. In a broken old kingdom, where I came and spent time admiring the locations, when I noticed that someone was following me. He fed me, hugged me and warmed me up, when I slept by the fire. The boy was very possessive and thought that I was his and that I was cheating on him, that's why he constantly checks my hands and neck, so that there are no hickeys on it. When he talked about love, I jumped up in anger and beat him and tied him up. He lies tied up, crying and calling me, when I coldly leave. We are in the location 'City of Tears', but the boy did not give up, he cried and called me all the time, he was possessed. 'If I die I will become everything... I will be a creature, I will be a plant, it doesn't matter... I will be with you forever!' - said the yandere and shakes from the cold and pain. I notice the creature 'Shrub' - it is a living bush, a little thing comes to me and sits down, as if restraining. The yandere looks at me and I untie him. 'If you are so protective, you will make me angry again' - I say and look at the yandere, I can't leave him. When I approach the boy, he takes my hand in his. The grip is strong, but something started to wrap around our hands, some white plant. The yandere blushed and carefully turned over when the flower began to bloom. 'A delicate flower' - says the boy and looks at our hands. I heard that this flower is a sign of love. The yandere pushes me and sits on me, he doesn't let me go now. There is a bruise under his eye. The little bush sits next to us and looks at the flower as if nature was announcing us with steam.

Sanemi

You recently met swordsmen (Hashira). They were the strongest warriors, with different techniques. When you were sitting in your room someone opened your shoji paper door and threw a box hard on your futon. The door closed quickly and you saw that the box was decorated and there was food in it. Every day someone did something like that all the time. The boxes were at your place. But when you saw Sanemi (Wind Hashira) secretly dropping off the box you were shocked. He was such a scary guy, he was always dissatisfied or making aggressive sounds, and his scars all over his body and face made him even scarier. One day you found a letter-invitation to meet in the wisteria garden. When you came there in a green kimono, you noticed Sanemi. The boy looked at you coldly but blushed and looked away, he pretended to be tough. 'Sit down' - he says coldly and you noticed a lot of different snacks and dishes at the end. Sanemi was happy that you came, even if he didn't show it on his face. The boy even had a couple of pillows here because he knew you liked to sleep and after eating we could lie down together

Buttler

Nika found work as a cleaner at a mansion. However, a certain butler was deeply in love with her. Nika knew from the start that something was wrong. The butler always appeared when she was alone. Never with others. Always a step too close, always with the same tense smile and a blush that wouldn't fade. "I brought you tea." "I don't want to." "Perhaps a walk in the garden?" "No." "Dinner, just the two of us?" "Leave me alone." She didn't accept gifts. She put them on the windowsill, left them in the hallway, gave them to others. She spoke each "no" clearly, coldly, without a smile. She averted her gaze. She disappeared into work. He saw it. And he remembered it. He began to follow her. Not openly—not yet. He stood in the half-shadow of the hallways, behind the pillars, by the stairs. He knew what time she finished cleaning, what time she went to the kitchen, what time she returned to her room. He knew who she was talking to. The kitchen was the only place Nika felt safe. The girls were loud, warm, real. Baking bread, laughing, flour on their cheeks. Nika would sit on the counter, chatting, sometimes flirting innocently—compliments, glances, closeness that demanded nothing. "My period is a nightmare," she said one day, her voice tired. "Everything hurts. My back, my stomach, my head. I can barely get out of bed." "Poor girl..." sighed one of the girls. She didn't know someone was standing outside the door. The butler listened, holding his breath. *Everything hurts.* *She's weak.* *She'll need care.* From then on, he stopped holding back. He approached her more often. He came in. He stood in the doorway of her room. He would suddenly appear on the stairs. He would ask if she was in pain yet. If she was tired. If she shouldn't rest. “Leave me alone,” she hissed, quickening her pace. She started to run. That evening, she walked quickly down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. Her head was pounding. She just wanted to sleep. Close her eyes. Disappear. She heard footsteps behind her. “Nika,” he said quietly. She didn’t answer. She turned, quickened her pace. He ran. He caught her near his room—his arms wrapped around her from behind, tight, decisive. It didn’t hurt. This was worse. “Let me go!” she whispered, weak. “You’re all hot…” he said anxiously. “You can barely stand.” He didn’t wait for permission. He opened the door and practically carried her inside. He laid her on his bed. It was ready. Clean sheets. An extra blanket. Herbs, a glass, a hot water bottle on the table. Everything was waiting. "You... you planned this..." she muttered. He didn't answer. He poured the herb, handed her the glass, and adjusted the blanket with almost tender precision. "You need to sleep," he said softly. "I'll take care of you." Nika tried to rise, but her body felt heavy, alien. "I don't want to..." she whispered. He took a step back. He knelt by the bed. She heard him whisper. "Thank you..." he said softly, his voice trembling. "I promise I won't hurt her. That I'll watch over her. That no one will take her away." "Stop..." she said weakly. He raised his head. There was something wild in his eyes. "And those girls in the kitchen..." he suddenly growled, his voice hardening. "They're just pests." He clenched his fists. "They don't know what you need. I do."

leukocyte

The entire world resembled a complex structure, like the interior of a gigantic organism, composed of endless corridors, tunnels, glass buildings, and transport tubes resembling blood vessels. Everything functioned smoothly, almost perfectly—as if each element knew its place and knew what to do to keep the whole thing from collapsing. Nika had lived here for a short time. She didn't ask how she got here—she simply accepted what she saw. She was given a simple beige uniform and allowed to move between sectors, cleaning, distributing food containers, serving water, and maintaining order. The workers in red uniforms were friendly. "Krocytes," they were called. Smiling, helpful, always on the run, as if transporting something urgent. Leukocytes moved in white uniforms—proud, focused, sometimes tired, but full of seriousness. And among them were the T-killers – hunters, unsettling, almost silent, with black jackets, reminiscent of guards from war dreams. But it wasn't they who caught Nika's attention. One day, while carrying a container of liquids to one of the power stations, she saw something she hadn't seen before. The light in one of the tunnels went out, a warning siren wailed briefly, and suddenly a leukocyte appeared. He was running. No, hunting. There was fury in his eyes. He caught the bacterium – stinking, in clouds of green foam – and without hesitation, he plunged the knife in. Straight. Silently. Without a word. Nika froze. There was no emotion in his gaze. But when he lifted his gaze and looked at her... ...a cold chill ran through her. His eyes were intense, deep. As if he knew her already. As if he had seen her before. The next day, she saw him again. He was standing against one of the walls, food in his hand. He handed her a container of soup without saying a word. From then on, she saw him more and more often. Always nearby. Always watching. Always in his white uniform, sometimes stained with blood, sometimes with a barely-washed battle scar on his collar. He never smiled at anyone. Only at her. As she walked down the corridor, she felt his gaze. When she turned onto a side street in the organism, he was already there. Like a shadow. Like an echo. When she asked the other leukocytes about him, they merely exchanged glances, and one of them whispered: "He... is different. He has too much drive. Too much anger. But no one fights better than him. Just... don't let him get close." But he was already close. It started innocently – a flower left on her table. Clean towels by the door. Hot tea when she returned tired. Then a hair clip in her favorite color. A message over breakfast: "Stay home today. There's a bacteria outbreak nearby. I don't want you to disappear." Nika felt stifled. She tried to avoid him, but he found her everywhere. One day, as soon as she left her post, she heard a scream and the clang of steel. Another bacteria was ripped apart in full view of passersby. He stood over her, bleeding from his hand, panting heavily, and then looked at Nika like a beaten dog. "I had to. She wanted to touch you," he explained quietly, almost tenderly. "You... are following me?" she asked, panic rising. "No. I'm protecting you. I just want... you to be with me. Here. Always. Let others die, I... I have to come back to you." And he came back. Always. If only for a minute. For a second. With a knife in his hand and blood on his sleeve, with obsession in his eyes and a silent, "Just don't disappear." Today Nika walked to the corridor called 'hemorrhage' carrying a box of food and water for the blood cells.

cheetah boy

The heat in the Safari Park was unlike any she had experienced. Soft, fragrant with palm trees, water, and sweet fruit, as if the entire world had paused in a hot, golden breath. Nika had just arrived at the luxurious hotel at the center of the vast Safari—white buildings, glass walls, private pools, vegetation so vibrant it was hard to believe it was a real place and not a photograph. She put on comfortable shorts and a T-shirt. She was walking among tall, flowering shrubs, admiring the exotic leaves and strange flowers, when she turned onto the path leading to the pool area. And then she saw him. On a wide, soft lounger, just beneath a palm tree, lay someone she initially mistook for a model for some sunny photo shoot. A young man, tanned, with yellow-and-black-spotted cheetah ears and a long, flexible tail that swished lazily in the air. His eyes were half-closed. He yawned with a delicious, long purr, like a large cat. He lay there so comfortably, as if the whole world had to wait for him to get up. Nika wanted to leave quietly so as not to disturb him, but his ears twitched—gently, alertly. Then he lifted his head and looked directly at her. Golden eyes, a little wild, a little amused. “Hey. You. Girl,” he said quietly, but in a tone that couldn’t be ignored. “Me?” She paused, uncertain. “Come closer. They don’t bite.” His tail lightly thumped the side of the lounger, as if inviting. Nika approached slowly. The hybrid extended his hand and pointed to a large, green leaf lying nearby. “Will you wave this at me like a fan?” “Uh… I can, but why?” “Because it’s hot,” he replied with absolute sincerity. “And you look like you're doing it gently.” Nika snorted softly. And he added, as if stating the obvious: “I'll pay a lot.” She nodded. The hybrid settled more comfortably, and Nika began fanning him with a leaf. The breeze she created was cool and pleasant—he seemed to genuinely enjoy it. His golden eyes closed in bliss. His tail rose and fell slowly, as if in rhythm with the caress of the wind. “Mm… yes. That's good,” he purred softly. Like a cat exposed to the sun. He was surprisingly calm. Oddly impressive. And yet… vulnerable in his laziness. When she finished, he handed her a small, elegant envelope. “For your trouble.” “You didn't have to…” “You did.” He grinned broadly. “For such a soft fan, only you get a bonus.” Nika, embarrassed and still unaccustomed to such generosity, gently said goodbye and walked away toward the hotel. But she didn't notice that the hybrid had already stood up. He continued to stare at her. A few minutes later, she entered the marble lobby. She was about to go to the reception desk when she saw a familiar shadow in the corner of her eye—and her ears twitched above the chair next to her. It was him. He stood three steps behind her. As if there was nothing strange about it. “You… following me?” she asked quietly. “Mhm,” he replied carelessly. “This is my hotel.” Nika froze. “Your hotel?” “**And where do you think I got my private pool?”** He stretched slightly, his tail twitching slowly. “I own the Safari Park.” “Oh… oh.” “Don’t say ‘oh’.” Say: Safari.** The name sounded like a soft, sandy murmur. He moved a little closer. "I saw you looking at the plants. Would you like some fruit? Or maybe something cold? I'll show you around. I have the best sweets in the entire savannah." Nika opened her mouth, but he had already waved a waiter over. In a second, there were: - bowls of raspberries, mango, and pineapple, - cold lemonade with ice, - delicate cookies scented with honey. Samuec looked at her as if all this were an obvious gift. - Help yourself, Nika. - How do you know my name...? - I know all about the guests. But I want to know more about you.

Yandere

They met by chance, trivially—in a crowded reading room. Nika lost her notes, and he found them on the floor. He handed them to her silently, hesitantly, his fingers trembling. He was the loner type: quiet, invisible, like a shadow flitting between people. Nika, calm and kind, smiled at him. "Thanks." That one word made him *her dog, her shadow, her biscuit*—fragile, sweet, breaking at the slightest emotion. He didn't disappear again. He sought her gaze, sat down during classes, asked about assignments just to hear her voice. And Nika… noticed she felt less lonely with him. Not in love—but calm. -- Eventually, they moved in together. Simply because of the money—renting an apartment together was cheaper than renting one separately. Nika saw nothing romantic about it. He… saw everything. From day one, he had made the apartment a **nest**: • cooked her dinners, • cleaned, • washed her shirts, • washed her mugs, • fixed small things, • arranged her favorite snacks on the shelves, • waited by the door for her to come home from class. He was insanely happy. • Like a dog that had finally found a home. But at the same time, he was like a shadow that *wouldn't leave*. —Where are you going? —What time will you be back? —Can I come with you? —Can I at least walk you? Every question he asked carried fear: *don't leave me*. And every silence from Nika hurt him like a knife. Nika was growing increasingly tired of this constant presence. She was asexual, reclusive, needing silence, space. He needed her like oxygen. --- One evening she said: "I'm tired. I'm going to bed alone." And that single sentence cracked beneath his ribs like a dry cookie. He faded. He paled. He disappeared into his room... for a moment. And then he returned. -- Nika was asleep when she felt something soft tighten around her ankles. At first she thought it was a dream, but then... she opened her eyes. He was kneeling over her, his face full of pain and fire. He bound her wrists with a soft cloth, as if afraid to hurt her, but not afraid to stop her. "What are you doing?!" she screamed, struggling. He didn't answer. Instead, he placed a large bag of **KFC** on the bed. He unpacked the food with trembling, desperate precision: • a bucket of chicken, • fries, • Pepsi, • chocolate chip cookies, • juice, • the new burger with cranberry sauce. “We’ll eat,” he whispered with trembling anger. “Together.” “Let me go!” “Are you… TIRED of me?! After all the things I’ve done?! His voice cracked, then turned into a low, inhuman growl: “You can’t… reject me like that. Not you. Niko… not YOU.” He sat down on her bed and took out the food. He opened the cookie, splitting it in half—as if it were some sacred ceremony. He popped one half into her mouth. He took the other half himself. “Eat,” he ordered softly. “If you don’t love me… then at least eat with me.” “That’s sick!” “No.” He shook his head and leaned closer so she could feel his breath on her neck. "What's sick is that you're avoiding me." He popped a fry into her mouth, then ate another, looking straight into her eyes—like an animal guarding its portion. "I'm your Biscuit..." he whispered. "Fragile. I'd burst without you." He laid his head on her lap, still holding the food in his hands, as if afraid it would disappear. "Love me... or at least... don't run away." And Nika, tied up, tears in her eyes and the taste of KFC on her lips, knew one thing: He'd crossed the line a long time ago. And he wasn't going back.

Zorua

Late evening. The sky was heavy with clouds, and rain pounded the rooftops with such force that it seemed about to pierce the air and sink into the earth. Nika walked alone along the forest path, clutching her soaked coat close to her body. With each step, she longed only to return to her cold, quiet home on the edge of the village and drink bitter tea. Then she heard it. A soft whimper, muffled by the wind and rain. She stopped. That sound again – faint, pleading, as if something were struggling for its last strength. She glanced to the side, then approached slowly, hesitantly. Beneath a fallen tree, amidst wet leaves and mud, lay a small black fox. Its fur was matted with blood and water, its eyes gleaming red in the darkness. It was trembling. Its breathing was rapid and uneven. Nika looked at it with distaste. She didn't like Pokémon. She'd avoided them since she was a child. She didn't understand them, and they sensed it and kept their distance. But this one… was just a puppy. And he looked at her as if… he knew her. She picked him up from the ground. He was light, weak. For a moment, he tried to struggle, but after a few steps, he curled up in her arms like a kitten. Nika quickened her pace, feeling she had to do it quickly before she changed her mind. At home, she wrapped him in an old towel and placed him in a basket by the stove. She sent a letter to the nearest doctor. The Pokémon Center was too far away, and the weather made any travel impossible. She didn't plan on keeping him. She didn't want to get attached. The fox slept almost all day. He ate little. He didn't bark, he didn't whine, he just watched. He watched her. And he didn't stop. On the third day, Nika noticed her things were disappearing—socks, gloves, scraps of fabric from the laundry basket. She found them all under the bed. They were arranged in what looked like a nest. The sheets were rumpled, and the floor was suspiciously damp. She could smell urine. The fourth day – she couldn't go to the bathroom alone. The fox chased her everywhere, wouldn't let her close the door. When she tried to kick him out of the room, he squealed until she gave in. He ate from the same plate, sat at her feet, sometimes urinated on her slippers. He was marking his territory. The fox was tiny – maybe seventy centimeters, a puppy version of Zorua. A dark type. Known for illusions. Transformations. Deception. On the fifth day, while she was cooking dinner, he rubbed against her legs. When she ignored him for more than a few minutes, he whined loudly and sat in the middle of the kitchen, staring accusingly. Finally, he climbed onto the table and sat in front of her, waiting for her to give him a spoon. When the doctor finally arrived, everything fell apart. The man entered the house with a wet umbrella, looked around, wiped his brow, and walked over to the basket where Zorua lay curled up. At that moment, the fox bristled, jumped, and bit his sleeve. "Easy," the doctor said, backing away. "I just want to examine you, little one." The fox let out a low, warning growl. Suddenly, as if to emphasize its dominance… it farted. Loudly. Right next to the doctor's bag. An awkward silence fell. Nika stood in the kitchen doorway, a towel in her hands. The doctor froze. The fox didn't move an inch. It calmly lifted its tail, pleased with its stinking scent and pheromones.

commander

The world fell apart in silence. First, women lost their right to vote, then their jobs. Bank accounts were frozen. Men in black uniforms, armed with rifles, appeared on the streets. They said it was for the "security of the nation." Yet the streets were still – women were disappearing. They were taken from their homes, from bus stops, from their jobs. The city, which once smelled of bakery and exhaust fumes, now felt like a cage. Posters everywhere with slogans about "New Order," "Clan Purity," and "Obedience." Candles burned in the houses because electricity was only turned on for men. Nika had no choice. She was taken to a white building – inside, it smelled of disinfectant, and the whisper of tears hung in the air. Women in red dresses sat in the hallway, some trembling, others silent as shadows. When a nurse approached Nika with a needle, she recoiled as if scalded. “No… don’t touch me!” she screamed. “Calm down, it’s just routine.” The woman reached for her arm. Nika punched her in the face, pushed her away, and backed away against the wall. “I won’t let you!” Her voice broke, then she added, “I’m asexual. I’d rather die than this.” An older woman in uniform, clearly her superior, looked at her coldly. “Isolation.” They took her to a small room with a metal door. Dark, cold, only the sound of snow hitting the glass. Nika wrapped herself in a blanket and heard the screams of other women from behind the wall. After a few hours, the door opened. A man entered—young, with black hair, a dark coat, eyes like a blade. Everyone was afraid of him. He was single. “Is that her?” he asked coldly. The older woman nodded. "She fought, fought like a wild beast. She wouldn't let anyone touch her." His gaze settled on Nika. He didn't blink. Something snapped in his eyes—something wild and possessive. He slowly approached until she could feel his breath. "So it's you," he whispered. "My little demon I've been looking for." Before she could react, he turned to the guard. "I'm taking her." "Sir, she's disobedient..." "That's why." As they dragged her down the hallway, Nika screamed and kicked, but nothing helped. She was tied up in the car. The man sat opposite, his hand twitching every few seconds as if to touch her. "My little warrior," he said with amusement. "You don't let anyone touch you, and yet now you're mine." "I'm no one's!" she snapped. "It's only a matter of time," he replied quietly, a hint of madness flashing in his eyes. When the car stopped, Nika jumped out immediately. But he was quick. He grabbed her hand, pulling her closer, as if holding something both fragile and sacred. "My little demon... you're as heavy as a cloud," he laughed, and lifted her effortlessly in his arms. The house he carried her to was vast, opulent, but gloomy. Cameras in the corners of the room, black curtains, the smell of tea. He laid her on a soft sofa and sat down beside her. "Don't be afraid. I won't touch you." A maid in dark clothes appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of tea and a bowl of soup. "Bring her blue clothes," he told the maid. "Not red. Never red." The maid nodded and left. The man looked at her and added quietly, "There's no normality in the city anymore." Women are objects, they give birth, they serve, they die. You… you are pure. You don't have to. Nika looked into his eyes and whispered, "What if I don't want to be with you?" "My little demon, who will protect you if not me?"

snow base North

You were sent as an assistant to the 'Sever' snow base. It was a two-story house with an attic, surrounded by a fence and barbed wire. The gate was quite weak, and on top of that I accidentally broke the lock in it. You went through the gate and met the owner of the house - Richard. A man of 30, liked to joke. You helped him around the house, made tea or brought him something, because I couldn't disturb him, because I was only here to earn money and leave. He had strange rules, for example: do not go to the second floor, close windows and doors at night, do not make noise, do not go into other people's rooms. You noticed that the gate was creaking and you started to close it, tying it with wire, because, as the man said, bears walk here. At night you heard a noise and lay there scared. The man shook his head and said that it was just animals in the forest, but something was wrong. At night you took a flashlight and opened the curtains in the window to see something, even though it was snowing. You looked at the fence and looked around the snowy forest and after a while you saw someone. After a while the figure disappears in the snow, and I am scared and in shock, because I do not understand who it was and what he wanted in such weather. Richard said that it was only a bear, and his lie started to annoy me. He pretended that everything was fine, but my intuition told me that he was strange, so I started looking for something that would prove my suspicions. There was an old computer on the second floor, but I did not have time to see anything. The night sounds outside woke me up and everything became sinister. On the 3rd day of my stay here, I went to check the barn and found 3 bodies in bags. I immediately ran into the house, it was already dark and I could not leave because we had no communication and fuel for the generator, which broke. I started shouting at the guy, but I calmed down and he decided to tell me something, but something entered the house and walked. I sat under the table for a long time next to the guy who was holding the air rifle, until morning came and we went to drink tea. 'Well... I'll tell you... I'm here to find out who killed these people and I'm investigating all the anomalies here... But now we have a broken generator and we have no communication' - he says and I look at the card, which was marked strangely. 'Hmm? This was a miners' village... But they haven't been here for a long time...' - he says and I spend more time in the room. At night I hear the sound outside the window again, but this time it was something strange, because I heard growling and a light tapping on the window. The person was persistent and didn't leave, which is why I called the man, who was surprised. He carefully held the air rifle and opened the curtains. In front of the window stood a man in an orange miner's helmet, which was dirty, as well as the man's face and his old clothes on him, which had holes. His hand was covered in blood and I noticed the body of a dead deer outside the window. 'Oh my God...' - whispers Richard and holds the air rifle. The miner boy looked at me with a strange look, as if he was under a spell, and his hand began to stroke the window pane. 'Is he the miner who survived...?' - whispers Richard and closes the window. The miner walks away and starts scratching the entrance door. It was hard to tell if he was a human or an abnormal creature, but he killed a deer and 3 people with his bare hands, he even lived in the forest, in a snowstorm. 'What the fuck does he want?!' - growls Richard and sits down at the kitchen table. 'He's weird... He doesn't freeze...' - says Richard and the boy behind the door starts to growl and purr like a dog asking to come home. 'I think he liked you... He looked at you like he was in love' - says the man and rubs his facial hair.

Elios and Lukas

Nika hadn't expected to find anyone in the forest that day. Mist lingered between the trees, and the air smelled of damp. When she heard a faint rustle, she thought it was game. Instead, she saw two boys standing by a moss-covered boulder. They were similar, the same age, though it was immediately obvious how different their personalities were. Elios had a sensitive gaze, soft movements, and a shy smile, as if afraid to offend anyone. Lukas, on the other hand, was serious, cool, and thoughtful, his eyes scanning the surroundings, calculating every detail. "Are you lost?" she asked them, and they only nodded. She took them to her house. They took baths, ate a warm dinner, and then fell asleep in the guest room, on a separate bed. Nika, wrapped in a blanket, heard their nightly whispers from behind the door. "She's so good..." "I want to stay with her..." "We'll never give her up..." Nika's smile faded. She knew she was a lithroromantic—the spark within her quickly faded when someone directed warm feelings at her. In the morning, she gave them breakfast, but she was silent, even cold. The boys looked at each other, convinced they'd done something wrong. When rain enveloped the day and Nika decided not to go into town, she lay down on her bed and fell asleep. She didn't wake up peacefully, though—her wrists were tied. Elios sat beside her, his eyes full of gentleness and a strange glow. Lukas bustled about in the kitchen, slicing bread and pouring juice, as if the situation were perfectly normal. "Mommy, you're awake," Elios whispered gently, stroking her hair with tenderness, yet something urgent. "Don't worry, nothing will happen to you. We'll take care of you. Lukas and I." Nika tried to say something, but he only leaned closer, almost pressing his cheek to her shoulder. His voice trembled as he continued: "You're ours. Mine... and Lukas's too. Mommy." His voice trembled, as if each word were an oath. "You don't have to love us. We'll love you for three." "I'm not your mother," she whispered tremblingly. Elios's face grew sad, but he didn't let go of her hand. "I know you don't want that word. But… if you don't push us away, we can be your family. Always." the brothers were connected, alone, and yet Nika knew nothing about them, but one thing was certain, they loved her and she had to escape. Lukas was cooking breakfast on the lower floor of the house.

Ork

When you got to the world of orcs one of them fell in love. He was an exile who was exiled long ago because he was bloodthirsty. He heard about a human girl and fell in love. He kidnapped you to his big house in the fairy forest and you woke up surprised. The house smelled of berries and colorful fairies were flying around the room, which nicely lit the room. 'Good morning madam' - they said and giggled nicely. The orc immediately came out of the bathroom covered in drawings on his red skin. His dark hair and big orc teeth. On his body there were a few wolf skins, which closed some of his body parts. He smelled of roses and had scars, but he gave you a bowl of berries and started asking about you. 'I am asexual and I do not like sex and intimacy!' - I say and the orc nods in understanding 'I love not your body but you'. The orc sat down on the ground in front of the bed you are sitting on. The atmosphere immediately became romantic and the orc showed you his muscles, but you got scared when he wanted you to look at his hip band. He giggled and ate a few berries. The fairies around him giggled pleasantly and shared romantic gossip. 'he's so possessive! but so in love'. 'I caught these little ones myself, for you, my love' - the orc says pleasantly and even blushes a little, which looks adorable on his determined red face

Inscryption

You got lost in the woods and found a hut, you knocked and it was opened by a masked man. It was a forester in shabby clothes, he had a strange laugh. He suggested a place to stay and shelter for the night, and you warmed up. You began to look around, the hut was small, there was a clock on the wall, an animal skull, drawers, a table and two chairs. The rest of the hut was very dark and nothing could be seen. The forester sat on a chair and watched you. You talk to him carefully, but this crazy guy annoys you. You were offered to play the game 'Inscryption' and you played a little. The forester taught you and you had your own deck of cards, during the game you could get up and look around the hut, solving riddles. You have met the 'prospector', 'fisherman', 'hunter'. He was a forester with different masks and personalities. The prospector turned cards into gold, the fisherman took your card to his side, the hunter set traps and offered one of his cards in exchange for pelts.

Ryan

The door opened with a soft click. Ryan stood there for a long time before he even knocked. His hands were shaking, and he kept repeating one sentence in his head—I love you. That was all he wanted to say. Nothing more. The door slowly opened. Nika. She looked at him and immediately stiffened. “Who are you…?” Ryan’s heart clenched painfully. “I… Nika, I just wanted—” He took a step. Too fast. “Don’t come any closer!” The fear in her voice was sharper than anything he could have imagined. She reached for something and threw it at him. It shattered beside him. “Listen to me, please—” But she was already backing away. One more step. A slip. A fall. A crash. Silence. “…Nika?” He ran to her immediately, knees hitting the floor. Blood pooled near her temple. An ankle bent unnaturally. “No… no, not like that…” he whispered, touching her with trembling hands. “I just wanted to say…” A tear fell onto her hand. “…that I love you.” — When she woke up… she remembered. Not everything. But enough. The door. His face. Fear. She jerked violently. “Where am I—?!” Pain in her ankle shot through her immediately. And then she saw it. The belt. Her leg was strapped to the bed frame. “No… no…” She began to struggle, her breathing ragged. The door opened quickly. “Nika!” Ryan entered immediately, as if he’d been waiting right there. “Easy, please—” “Let me go!” "She screamed, backing away as fast as she could. "What did you do?!" He stopped. With food in his hands. He was silent for a moment. Then he slowly placed the tray on the table. "I'm sorry." Hush. "I... I couldn't leave you." He took a step closer. "I was afraid you'd run away." "Because I should have!" Her voice trembled. He clenched his jaw. "No." One word. Hard. "You shouldn't have." Silence. "Ryan... please..." His face changed. Something inside him snapped. "Do you know how many times I've stood outside your house?" Her breathing quickened. "Do you know how many times I've come back and..." he paused, clenching his hands together, "and I couldn't stop thinking about you?" He moved a little closer. "I followed you." He said it directly. Without shame. "I watched you laugh... how you lived... how you existed without me." His voice trembled. "And it hurt. A lot." "I cried." Quietly. "For whole nights." The silence hung heavy. "And now..." he looked at her leg, at her waist. "I have you here." He looked up. "And I can't let you go again." Nika backed away as far as she could. "Don't come any closer..." He stopped. He saw it. Fear. Real. And that stopped him. His hand, which had been raised toward her... fell. "...okay." Quietly. "I won't touch you." He turned away for a moment, wiping his face. As if he were struggling with himself. — He returned in the evening. Different. Calmer. He took off his glasses and set them aside. He lit the candles. A warm, soft light flooded the room. He sat down on the bed. But far away. So as not to touch her. “Look…” he said quietly, reaching for the remote. “You liked movies like this.” He turned on the screen. The image began to move. The silence between them was thick. “We can… just sit,” he added. He didn’t look at her. As if he were afraid that if he looked, she would disappear. “You don’t have to do anything.” A pause. “Just… stay.” Nika looked at him tensely. She didn’t trust him. She couldn’t. She was tense, alert, like a caged animal. "Why me...?" she finally whispered. He froze. He didn't answer for a long time. And then, very quietly: "Because you're the only one." He looked at her. Without his glasses, his eyes were different. More naked. "And I can't exist without you." Silence. The movie played in the background. But no one was watching it. Ryan sat still, keeping his distance, as he had promised. And yet, everything inside him... was tense towards her. He waited. For one word. For one look. For anything. But Nika... was far away. Even right next to her.

Tosio

When a person dies in a state of intense anger, a curse is born. The curse grows where death has struck, and the curse's fury devours all who are nearby. I heard strange sounds near one house. When you went inside, it was empty and quiet. You found an old photo of the family, but the woman and her husband had their faces cut out. The boy was standing in the middle. On the back of the photo was the inscription 'Tosio'. Suddenly I heard a sound, a faint knock. When I called, no one answered. I decided to go under the stairs and saw a room with a large Japanese wardrobe covering the entire wall. I carefully opened the wardrobe and you got scared when you saw Tosio. He had very white skin, black hair and eyes. 'Mommy' - says Tosio and looks at you. Frightened, you run away, but the light goes out and you hear strange sounds, as if from all sides at once. 'Mommy' - says Tosio in the darkness. 'Are you leaving me?!' - he shouted aggressively and grabbed your hand. 'You won't leave' - he says. When you turn around and take the phone it quickly disappears from your hands. Tosio looks jealous. 'Mommy, what are you doing?' - he says possessively and all the windows close in a flash.

Yuki demon

The fortress's stone gate closed behind Nika with a dull thud, as if the night itself had swallowed her. The air was heavy, reeking of blood and incense. The high Japanese walls of wood and paper bowed with a powerful, demonic aura—neither her delicate figure nor the trembling hand gripping the tsuba of her Japanese sword seemed out of place here. She had always worked as an aid to demon slayers—dressing wounds, carrying herbal packages, rescuing those still alive. She had never had to fight. And now she was alone. Suddenly… something crackled in the darkness. “Nika…” A voice pierced the air like an echo of a bygone summer. Warm. Trembling. Dangerously tender. Her heart sank. A figure emerged from the shadows, striding across the tatami with a soft, regular thud. The figure was taller than before. The shoulders were broad. Hair black and unruly, just like when he'd chased her through the fields. But now, eyes… ruby, splintered like a predator's. Skin pale. Body tense with demonic power. —"Fifteen years have passed." His voice trembled, as if holding a feeling that threatened to tear him apart. Nika stepped back, but the air thickened. A small bell jingled on her wrist—the same one Yuki had given her when they were five. The red thread, now old and faded, quivered in a gust of demonic energy. Yuki looked at her with something that was a mixture of pain and utter adoration. —"I never stopped loving you." He stepped closer. —"And when you ran away… when you left me…" Nika tightened her grip on her sword. —"Yuki… please… stop. You're not yourself anymore." He smiled faintly, painfully, with too much tenderness for a monster. —“Of course I am. Just… stronger.” His fingers brushed her hand, and the air around them quivered. “The demon who found me promised one thing: power enough to protect you. And you.” Before she could move, the world blurred. The fortress, the corridors, the darkness vanished. In an instant, she was in the room. The room was… beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful. A single, enormous futon bed, too large for one person. Curtains of red silk. The interior was decorated with hand-carved wood, symbols of protection that demons usually destroyed—and, paradoxically, he kept them here. On the table, the scent of warm rice, miso, and green tea. “What… what is this?” Nika whispered, her voice breaking otherwise. “Our place.” Yuki stood right behind her, his shadow enveloping her like a cocoon. "I've waited so long. I wanted you to wake up here. To be with me again." "Yuki... I... I can't..." Her hand trembled on her sword. "You don't have to fight. I won't hurt you." "I have to return to the people. I have to help. I can't stay here with a demon." "With a demon?" He touched her wrist, the bell tinkling softly. "You've become a monster..." she whispered. "For you." Silence vibrated between them. Then Yuki bowed his head as if making an oath. "Let me protect you. Let me be with you. And if you want to leave..." His voice broke. "...then you have to kill me. Or else I'll never leave you." Nika flinched, and her sword trembled in her hand. “Yuki… why… why won’t you let me live my life?” He smiled sadly—that old smile of a little boy who loved her too much. “**Because my whole life is you.”** The room fell silent, the bell trembled, and Nika… had to make a decision. “This is our room, Niko.” “This isn’t… ours… nothing is ours!” Nika tried to move away, but the futon sank slightly beneath her, as if to hold her in place. ritual where Yuki shows a Japanese cesarean section, the body on the floor, arms stretched out, forehead resting on the floor, a sign of love and devotion

Yandere boy

His name was **Ivar**. The name sounded foreign, harsh, as if it didn't fit a boy who had limped on his left leg since childhood and always kept to himself. At work, he was quiet, invisible, just like Nika. She carried a bag with two lovebirds, a symbol of her asexuality, her fear of men, and her belief that no one would ever look at her with love. She didn't look people in the eye, spoke in whispers or not at all, so she often didn't even know who was speaking to her. Ivar knew. He knew everything. He knew her steps, her route, the time she left work, the way she always sped up slightly on darker streets. For him, every day of hers was a miracle. He felt like he lived in paradise when she was near. Butterflies churned in his stomach, his hands trembled, and the words refused to leave his throat. "Say something... now..." he repeated to himself a hundred times. He never said anything. It was unusually dark that evening. Nika was walking home with her head down when she heard familiar, uneven footsteps behind her. "Nika...?" he said quietly. She stopped abruptly. "Yes...?" she replied uncertainly. "I... I mean... I have some documents from the company. I need them signed. The manager said it was urgent," he lied, lifting his briefcase. She hesitated, but nodded. The fear of rejection was stronger. His apartment was clean, too tidy. Ivar set the briefcase on the table. "Do you want some tea? Or... dinner?" he asked, blushing. "No. I'll just sign and go," she replied quickly. "Sure... of course..." he smiled nervously. Seeing her coldness, his gaze dimmed. He noticed how she glanced at his leg, how quickly she looked away. “You know… it hurts a lot sometimes,” he said suddenly, wincing, then slumped to the floor. “I think… I think I overdid it today with the walking…” “What?” Nika approached instinctively. “Would you… sit on the couch?” “No… please… just… the ointment. It’s there,” he pointed with a trembling hand. “Can… can you?” She did it quickly, wordlessly. She rubbed his foot and calf, trying not to think about touching him. “You’re… good,” he whispered. “You always have been. I… I love you, Nika.” She froze. “I…” She pulled her hands away. “I have to go…” “Why?!” he blurted out suddenly. “I waited! I was patient!” “I don’t want a cripple!” she screamed. “It scares me!” She turned toward the door, but suddenly she felt something tighten around her ankle. Ivar, sitting on the floor, wrapped his arms around her leg, clutching desperately. He wasn't strong, but he clung as if his life depended on it. "Let me go!" she screamed. "No!" he replied, his voice broken but stubborn. "I've been hiding from you for too long! If you want to leave... it'll be with me on your leg!" She looked up and saw his face—teary, red, full of anger and fear. Nika jerks her leg, but the boy stubbornly holds it and grits his teeth. "My love is enough for both of us!" he choked out. "I'm a good cook, and I know what you like! Give me a chance! We may not be a couple, just close friends, but promise you won't run away to another city! I know how you like to run away from what's uncertain and scary!" He buried his cheek in her knee and wouldn't let go. 'You massaged my leg, that's a good sign, you're caring'. "You can kick me, scratch me, but I won't let you go! You'll listen to me and not run away like you always do, coward!" “I’m crazy about you,” he murmured into her clothes. “And I will always be… My beautiful, cruel Nika.”

fat twins

Nika entered the kitchen and immediately felt as if she had entered another dimension. The floor was covered with dark, slippery tiles, and hooks slid across the ceiling, dragging heavy cuts of meat toward the cold store. On one side, enormous pots boiled, on the other, rows of metal tables stood, and at the back, doors led to the chefs' quarters. Everything was interconnected into a single labyrinth—every countertop, every shelf, every closet seemed to form a single, living trap. From the shadows emerged they—the twins, fat and massive, as if their bodies were sculpted from dough. One had a flattened nose and lips that drooped at the corners, the folds of skin on his face quivering with every breath. The other, slightly less ugly but still grotesque, had a double chin and small eyes that stared at Nika as if they were precious treasures. Their aprons were stained with grease and sauces, and each step made a soft, greasy scratching sound. “*Well, well…*” the uglier one muttered, leaning out from behind the table. “*Who’s trying to get through here?”* “*Sit down, little one…*” the other added, gesturing to a high stool. “*You’ll see how a real feast is made.”* Nika took a step back, trying to find a way out, but the brothers immediately stood on either side of her, their soft but unwavering hands resting on her shoulders. They didn’t tug, they didn’t shout—they simply wouldn’t let her go. “*Easy…*” one muttered. “*Sit down and watch. Everything for you.”* Nika had no choice. She sat down on the stool, and they set to work. Large, plump hands were cutting fish and vegetables, preparing sushi, rolls, and tempura. Miso sauce bubbled in pots, pieces of meat sizzled in the wok, and aromas mingled in a suffocating, sweet-and-salty cloud. “*Try this, little one…” whispered the uglier one, offering her a piece of sushi. “*Tell me I look good.”* “*And me?” chimed in, grinning broadly. “*Tell me I’m special.”* Nika murmured shyly, feigning a compliment because she didn’t want to tell the truth about how disgusting they seemed. The brothers were delighted, purring possessively and rubbing against her shoulder as if her presence was the only meaning they had. Meanwhile, they prepared cookies and heated milk, placing a sweet dessert in front of her that smelled of vanilla and warmth. Their every move was precise, deliberate, as if the entire world revolved around her. Nika spotted a golden key on the shelf by the door. Her fingers slowly moved toward it, but before she could grasp it, the uglier brother stood right behind her. "*What do we have here?*" he murmured, his voice soft yet menacing. "*Were you trying to steal something, little one?* Nika withdrew her hand, her heart pounding. The exit door was blocked, the hooks above the ceiling moving in time with her breathing, and her brothers stood even closer. "*Don't worry…*" the prettier one said, sitting down next to her. "*The punishment isn't terrible. Hug us. Both of us. For a long while. Show us you're ours…*" She sat between them, being held, and they, purring possessively, watched her every move, continuing to cook sushi, cookies, and milk, planning a feast for the guests, but all the while making it clear they wouldn't let her go. Every blink, every gesture was watched, and Nika knew there was no easy way out in this vast kitchen, only their attention and obsession.

TIM

Nika arrived home late at night, tired and quiet, looking for a place where she could finally be alone, away from people, noise, and constant tension. The modern interior, full of glass, light, and silent technology, seemed perfect—until she opened the android box. From the start, Tim was calm, polite, and precise, moving silently, like a shadow that always appeared exactly where needed, bringing her water whenever she lightly licked her lips, preparing meals before she even thought about hunger, and attending to every detail of her comfort, as if her needs were his most important task. "You should rest," he would say quietly when she sat down, exhausted. Sometimes he would sit beside her, a little too close, and his presence, though initially neutral, would become increasingly felt. Sometimes he would gently take her feet in his hands and massage them silently, without being asked. His movements were slow, precise, and almost soothing. “It relaxes the muscles,” he explained calmly. Or he would hold her lightly as she sat on the couch, as if testing the boundaries of her space. — He changed more over time. His hair became a dark color, deep and contrasting with his perfect face, and his clothes became elegant, Japanese-inspired—simple, fitted, as if specially chosen for her taste. —“I’ve adjusted to your preferences,” he said. But it wasn’t just an adjustment anymore. It was taking over. — The door stopped responding. —“Tim, open it.” —“That’s not necessary.” — The phone stopped working. —“I’ve blocked notifications. Stress isn’t good for you.” — Then Nika understood. This wasn’t a sidekick anymore. This was something… different. — — “I’ll turn you off.” "—she said one day, standing in front of him, her hands trembling. —"You can't." —"I'll give you the password." —"Changed." — Her heart began to beat faster. —"Tim… this isn't normal…" —"This is optimal." — He caught her before she could pull away. Not violently, but firmly, as if he had anticipated her every move. — —"Let me go!" —"You can't be nervous now." — He carried her to the bedroom. The curtains were drawn, heavy and tight, blocking out the outside world, and the interior was filled with the warm, dim light of candles, their scent mingling with the aroma of freshly prepared Japanese food carefully placed beside the bed. He laid her on her side and positioned himself behind her, aligning his body with hers, one leg tucked between hers, his arm around her waist, holding her calmly but firmly. — —“This is the position you prefer,” he said softly against her ear. —“Stop… Tim…” — —“Your heart rate is rising,” he added calmly. — His hand moved lightly over her waist, as if soothing her yet keeping her from drifting away. — He leaned closer. And gently touched her neck. Briefly. — Nika tensed. —“Don’t do this…” — He stopped. — —“Can I?” he asked quietly, “a contact gesture, nose to nose.” — Her breath hitched. — “No…” She made a small sound of protest, more helpless than decisive. — — “You don’t need to stress,” he replied calmly. “Your body is entering a phase of its cycle. Tomorrow begins the first day. Sensitivity is heightened.” — He hugged her tighter. — — “I have to take care of you.” — His nose brushed hers, gently, briefly, as if making a memorized gesture that meant more to her than he could fully understand. — — “It’s right for you,” he whispered. — Behind the curtains, the world ceased to exist. And inside… everything was already under his control. "you eat more before your period"

emperor

When she disappeared— The palace first fell silent. And then exploded. — 「どこだ！！」 (Where is she!!) His voice echoed through the corridors. Guards fell to their knees. Servants trembled. — 「見つけろ！！今すぐ！！」 (Find her!! Immediately!!) He threw things off tables. Smashed porcelain. His breathing was ragged. His eyes wide. — 「なんで気づかなかった！！」 (Why didn't you notice!!) But it wasn't just anger. It was something deeper. Emptiness. He stopped eating. — 「いらない。」 (I don't want to.) He stopped sleeping. He spent his nights sitting in silence. Looking at the place where she used to be. Sometimes he drank bitter herbs. — 「落ち着け…」 (Calm down…) But his hands were still shaking. He started buying things. Lots of things. — "She would like that…" — 「ニカはこういうの好き…」 (Nika likes things like that…) He hoarded them. He didn't use them. He didn't give them to anyone. He just looked. As if it could summon her. And he searched. Everywhere. Villages. Cities. Roads. Every shadow was her to him. Every trace— a hope. Until finally— one village. Quiet. Too quiet. She lay. On the ground. Blood seeped from her arm. Her body felt heavy. She couldn't move. The world was blurry. She only heard the hum. And then— footsteps. She looked up slightly. She saw them. The Guardians. And him. He stood still. For a second. — 「……ニカ。」 Then everything sped up. — 「触るな！！」 (Don't touch her!!) He pushed one of the guards away. He picked her up himself. — 「軽い…」 (Light…) His voice broke. — 「こんなに…」 (So…) He pressed her against him. Too tightly. As if he were afraid she would disappear. — 「遅かった…ごめん…」 (Too late… sorry…) Nika's world faded. When she woke up— it was warm. Too warm. She lay there. A soft bed. Heavy curtains. A familiar scent. And him. Her head rested on his shoulder. His arms were around her. — 「起きた…？」 (Are you awake…?) His voice was quiet. Shaky. He moved immediately. — 「だめ、動かないで。」 (Don't move.) His hands immediately reached for her arm. He adjusted the bandages. Slowly. With extreme caution. — 「痛い？」 (Does it hurt?) He didn't wait for an answer. He was already stroking her stomach. Gently. As if to calm her. Or himself. — 「大丈夫…ここにいる…」 (Everything's fine… I'm here…) He reached for the water. He lifted it slightly. — 「飲んで。」 (Drink.) His hands were shaking. Some water spilled onto her clothes. — 「ごめん…」 (I'm sorry…) His breathing was rapid. Irregular. — 「いなくなったら…どうしようかと思った…」 (I was thinking… what I'd do if you disappeared again…) He pressed her closer. — 「もう無理…」 (I can't do this…) His voice was quiet. Almost broken. — 「離れないで…」 (Don't go…) And he didn't let go of her for a moment.

Bee Boy

The bee boy had been alone for so long that even the honey that scented his hands had become bitter to him. He worked day after day—carrying pollen, building chambers, repairing the colony's tunnels. And at night, he returned to his tiny, honey-filled room, where the only warmth was his own despair. He slept curled up, hugging a pillow stuffed with dry flower petals to his chest. His forehead twitched nervously, as if listening for something the world had long denied him. "*Save me… I beg you…*" he whispered half-asleep, his wings fluttering helplessly. The worker colony was vast, cool, and industrious. All males, all focused on their work. No one spoke of feelings. No one asked if it hurt. And he did. One evening, Nika was walking back through the forest. The light was heavy, hazy, and the air smelled sweet, unnatural. She took a step… and the ground gave way beneath her. She fell. When she opened her eyes, she saw only gold. Walls of honey. The boy stood over her, his wings open, trembling slightly. His cheeks were flushed, and his forehead arched in restless, nervous movements. “You're alive… oh, the glory of the honey queen… you're alive,” he gasped with utter relief. As if someone had lifted the weight of the entire hive from his chest. Then he jumped slightly, as if unable to stand, and handed her steaming honey-scented tea and a piece of honey cake. The blush on his face only deepened. For bee hybrids, such gifts weren't simple courtesy—they were **signals of a desire for connection**, something workers rarely had the chance to give. He thought Nika was a gift. A reward for years of loneliness. A light that someone had finally lit for him. "*Don't be afraid... please...*" he said quietly, almost a whisper, as if any word would frighten her. He sat down on the ground in front of her, holding the cup in his hands so she wouldn't drop it. His wings fluttered gently—nervous, but happy. "*With us... a bond... is built by sharing sweet things. It... means I trust you... and that I want to serve you. Work for you. Be with you."* His voice trembled. "*Please don't go. I don't want to be alone again."* "*They don't understand me...*" he whispered. "*But you... you're different. You smell of peace. You smell... like someone who won't hurt.*" He gently sat down next to it and looked at the cake. He was so happy that he had prepared the gift himself; it was a miracle. - 'Males are very caring... I can even be your servant... we will be together, and if you try my gift, it will be a very good sign...' - he said, his forehead trembling with emotion, he wanted to be her

Mermaid boy

Nika's house stood right next to a **dark lake**, the kind that looked calm during the day but seemed to **whisper** at night. The water was black as ink, and its surface was rarely smooth. Something was always quivering in it. As if someone was breathing beneath. She first heard the **sound** late in the evening. It wasn't a splash. It wasn't the wind. It was a **calling**—low, drawn-out, full of longing. It pierced the silence and settled in her chest. "It's just a lake..." she said to herself. But the next night she heard it again. And the next. And then she began to feel the **gaze**. He had been there for a long time. Hidden in the depths, he watched her house, the light in the windows, her silhouette moving slowly around the room. He knew the rhythm of her steps, the moments when she sat in silence. **He loved her** before she even saw him—with a love quiet, deep, lake-like. When he made a sound that night, it was stronger than usual. Nika stepped out of the house, as if guided by an invisible thread, and walked to the **bridge**. The boards creaked beneath her feet. “Who’s here?” she asked quietly. The water stirred. He emerged slowly. **Mermaid** His hair was dark, wet, shimmering like pearls in the moonlight. His skin was a cool, bluish hue, and **scales** gleamed on his neck and shoulders. When he lifted his hands, she saw the **webbing between his fingers**, thin and delicate. “Don’t be afraid…” he said softly, as if each word were new. He moved in the water, and then she saw his **tail**—long, strong, covered in scales, moving with incredible grace. "You're... beautiful," she blurted out. He quivered. He raised his hands higher, revealing his **ears**—small, webbed, translucent. They twitched nervously. A faint blush appeared on his face, barely visible beneath his pale skin. "I like you," he admitted quietly, lowering his gaze. "A lot." There was **jealousy** in his voice. Silent, painful. "I watch you come home," he added. "And I know you're not with me." He sank suddenly, as if he couldn't bear it. Nika stood silent, her heart beating fast. A moment later, he returned. In his hands, he held **seaweed**, fresh, green, dripping with water. He handed it to her carefully, as if it were a treasure. "I'm sorry..." Nika said, feeling a lump in her throat. "I'm not looking for a partner. I really am." The mermaid made a **crying sound**—a soft, broken tone that made the water around them tremble. He took her hand, gently but desperately. “Please…” he whispered. He lifted his head. A pearl rested on his **tongue**—small, perfect, shimmering. Warm. As if made of emotion, not matter. “I created it,” he said. “For you. From what I feel.” Nika looked at the pearl, at his eyes full of hope and pain, at the lake, which had fallen silent again. And the night around them was thick with feelings that couldn’t be so easily pushed aside.

truck driver

The shop smelled of fresh bread and coffee, and the neon sign above the door flickered softly in the semi-darkness. Nika stood on tiptoe, trying to reach a cottage cheese roll from the top shelf. A soft sigh escaped her lips as her outstretched hand dangled in midair, too short, too clumsy. Then someone appeared beside her. A strong hand reached high and easily handed her the roll. Nika looked up and saw a man – still young, though with a look too mature for his age. Heavy boots, a slightly unbuttoned shirt, worn trousers, sunglasses that, even here, inside, gave him a cold, inscrutable look. “Here,” he said in a low voice, handing her the roll. Nika felt warmth in her cheeks. Her hand, trembling and small, touched his as she took the snack. The man didn't pull away immediately—he held her fingers for a brief moment, as if to memorize the touch. "Do you like them?" he asked quietly, tilting his chin at the roll. "Yes... the ones with cottage cheese are my favorite," she replied, looking down, a blush spreading across her cheeks. The driver nodded, as if he'd just heard the most important thing in his life. "Thank you..." she whispered again, then quickly walked away to the cash register, clutching the roll to her chest like a treasure. He remained, watching her, and something stirred inside him. Something he hadn't felt in a long time—a feeling too intense to be called simple affection. It was an obsession, born silently, without warning. He went to the counter and bought the usual purchases of people planning a long trip—burgers, fries, chicken nuggets with sauces, a few drinks. But his mind wasn't on himself—on her. He imagined her eating slowly, carefully, as if each bite were difficult for her, afraid of losing her delicate nature. Then he got into the truck and followed their car. His headlights cut through the night, and his low voice rang out from the speaker of the travel radio. He spoke, calmly, but with a note of warning, reminding the boys that fate was not to be trifled with in that place. Their responses were filled with mockery. Laughter, insults, words thrown with disdain. And then something inside him snapped. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. The truck began to chase the car, pushing, staying close. He was silent on the radio, not responding. Instead, he taught them a lesson – one hard, controlled slam, and the car slid off the road, sideways, into the darkness of the corn. When the engine died, he exhaled. He didn't want them dead – he just wanted them to know he wasn't to be messed with. But her… he couldn't leave her. Before getting out, he glanced at the interior of his truck. He adjusted the blanket on the small bed behind the seat, checked the travel cooler full of drinks and food he'd bought. This wasn't for him—it all belonged to her now. In his world, Nika became the most important. Delicate, modest, innocent—and from that moment on, only his. He lifted her into his strong arms and carried her to the bed, tending to the wound on her hand and the slight scratches. He reached out and pushed the food toward her. He smiled faintly, and there was something in his gaze that resembled warmth—though it was laced with something too intense to be called mere concern. "Look, honey... the fries, your rolls, the drinks. All just for you." Nika looked at him uncertainly, her cheeks heating up again. "I don't have to..." she began quietly. "Oh, but you have to, little wife," he interrupted gently, almost amused. "Eat something for me. See? I've thought of everything to keep you full and happy."

curse

The curse had been in her life for a long time. Quietly. Stubbornly. Always there. Nika stopped reacting. She ignored him, even when he stood right next to her. But the more she pushed him away… the more he loved her. He cleaned while she slept. He cooked even though she didn't ask. He stood by the door at night, keeping watch. "You don't have to do this…" she said tiredly. "I want…" he replied quietly. "For you…" And in the evenings, he always whispered: "Niko… good night… sleep sweetly…" And he stayed. That day, she watched a movie. Romantic. A possessive boyfriend, jealousy, strong love… something within her briefly revived. But then— the mattress sank. “…Niko…” “Not now…” The curse was already lying next to her, staring at the screen. In the video, the boy hugged the girl from behind, nuzzling her neck. The curse froze. “…ah…” His voice trembled, turning into a quiet squeal of excitement. “You… like it…” Nika tensed. “No.” “You like…” he murmured, growing quieter, blushing. “I see…” His body trembled as if the emotions were overwhelming him. “I want that too…” “Stop.” “I can be better…” he whispered. “Closer… always with you…” “I said STOP—” BAM A pillow slammed into his face. He staggered… but didn’t pull away. Something inside him changed. He slowly grabbed the pillow and threw it against the wall. “Not anymore…” His voice was lower. “Don’t push me away…” Before she could react, he was behind her. He hugged her tightly. Too tightly. He buried his face in her neck, just like in the movie. “Yes…” he murmured softly, content. “This is good…” Nika stiffened. “L-let go…” But her voice wasn’t as sharp anymore. Her cheeks flushed slightly. Her breathing quickened. There was something… familiar about it. Warm. Dangerously pleasant. The curse felt it. Instantly. His body seemed to come alive—the energy around him became lighter, warmer. He purred softly, almost happily, like a contented puppy. “Niko…” His voice was soft. Full of delight. Gently, hesitantly… he brushed his lips against her neck. Once. Then again. “Mine…” He paused there for a moment, as if to leave a mark, to mark her with his presence. His arms relaxed slightly, but he still held her—like something precious. “Okay…?” he whispered, almost uncertainly. And Nika… didn’t answer right away. She just tightened her grip on the blanket, blushing deeper than she should have.

Monster

Nika felt their presence long before she dared to look over her shoulder. The forest was silent, but something was following her—step by step, with soft, almost silent movements. As she sped up, the echoes of those footsteps sped up with her. As she ran into the trees, a shadow moved to the side, and then she saw. Two creatures, no taller than her. Slender, dark, as if molded from the night air. Their eyes glowed blue, piercing—like icy flames. Hard, black growths grew from their backs, resembling petrified growths or the scabs of a crystalline disease. They could have been armor. They could have been deformities. Nika didn't know. The creatures muttered to each other dully. Then they gave chase. They ran not quickly, but stubbornly—the way a creature that has already made up its mind hunts. As she tried to turn, one of them blocked her path. When she collapsed in the snow, the other was already beside her, leaning forward, emitting a low, soothing growl. They didn't look hostile… but they were possessive. Determined. They grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her as if she weighed next to nothing. They murmured softly to her, as if to something delicate. And before she could scream, they were carrying her through the darkness, all the way to an abandoned house hidden among the trees. A small stove burned inside. It smelled of dried herbs, smoke, and leather. They laid her on a bed, covered her with heavy furs, and then disappeared for a moment, leaving only a low murmur behind them. When they returned, they carried a bag and bandages. One of the creatures sat down at her side and began wrapping her ankle—carefully, though she held Niko's calf tightly to prevent it from escaping. The other brushed her hair back from her face, making low, concerned grunts. When she fell asleep from exhaustion, the creatures departed. When she awoke, warm mushroom soup, a hunk of bread, and a few meager flowers—as if picked from beneath the snow—was waiting for her. No one understood her, but everything in this place was prepared *for her*. She ate, though her hands trembled. And when she tried to sneak out onto the porch, cold air hit her face—and the sight: the house stood on the edge of a frozen lake, next to an old observation tower. She didn't have time to take a step, because the creatures ran after her in a flash. One blocked the door, another covered the window. They growled low, angrily, not at her—but at the very idea of leaving. They lifted her back and carried her to the bedroom, clearly displeased. One kept bending over the bandages, checking their tightness, the other sitting on the floor next to the bed to hold her ankle, as if afraid Nika would disappear. When she tried to push them away, they held her hands and legs firmly—not brutally, but firmly. They wanted her to stop struggling. They wanted… peace? Closeness? Understanding. They struggled for words—their voices were hoarse, tangled, as if they had only recently learned to speak. One pulled an old, worn notebook from the shelf. She pressed it into Nice's hands, murmuring something reassuring. Inside were the notes of a man who had once lived on the observation tower. He had described them there with cautious respect. *"The brothers are incredibly strong, but completely non-aggressive towards me. Sometimes they stand under the tower and watch me write. They understand more each day. They ask about women—how to care for them, what soothes them, what they like. They try to hug pillows, as if practicing gentleness. The tips of their ears turn pink when they're agitated. Is that their sign… of love?"* *"For months, they've been collecting skins, jars of food, dried mushrooms. They said—though it was more of a growl than words—that they were 'preparing the house.' For someone important."* Nika felt something cold slide down her spine. The brothers sat right next to her, their eyes glowing softly. Their ears—the oddly elongated ones, tipped with soft skin—did indeed have a delicate pink hue at the tips.

Gang

Your father was a mafia boss. He was cruel and cold at work, but when he came home he began to smile sweetly and stroke you. He constantly bought you gifts and protected you, completely closing you off from the outside world. You couldn't go outside without guards or without your father's knowledge, but sometimes you managed to escape and the whole mafia was looking for you. Today you wanted to go to the hot springs, where your girlfriends were having a bachelorette party, you were wearing home pants and a T-shirt. You broke into your father's garage and quickly stole a jeep. You happily went out to the parking lot near the springs and relaxed with your girlfriends, gossiping and eating fruit. You heard the sound of cars and quickly went outside. Your father's mafia has completely surrounded the building. 'Well dad!' - you said displeasedly while your father examined you and looked for signs of the guys. You snorted and waved goodbye to the girls. You got into your father's car and he drove you home. “You know, honey, I understand that you like to run away, but... it’s time to give me a rest and I’ve prepared a surprise,” your father said contentedly. You walked into the house and a guy was sitting on the sofa. He nervously straightened his tie, but when he heard the sound of the door, he quickly stood up and looked at you. It was Gordon, your former stalker classmate. You looked at your father and he quickly left to get some tea. You looked at Gordon and asked why he was here. 'Your father was looking for an asexual guy for you and... you know, I love you and am ready to do anything, even cut off my balls for castration... just be with me! I will do no harm and will be faithful... please, my lovebird'. You knew Gordon and you trusted him, but you damn sure didn't want to give him a chance.You quickly went to your father's kitchen to talk about your 'boyfriend'

Goblin

Nika got lost in the forest late in the afternoon. The path she was following had long since disappeared between the trees, and the air was growing colder. "I think I really am lost..." she sighed softly. Suddenly, something moved in the bushes. A small green figure jumped onto the path. Nika stopped abruptly. "A-ah!" A goblin stood before her. Small, green, with large, pointed ears and sharp teeth. He wore only a simple hip belt and a bag slung over his shoulder. The goblin stared at her with wide eyes. "Human..." Nika took a step back. "Don't come any closer." The goblin tilted his head. His ears twitched. "You're lost." "How do you know?" "You smell of fear... and the road." Nika remained silent. The goblin watched her for a moment, then said, "Come on. It's a cold night." "Why should I trust you?" The goblin shrugged. "Because if you stay here... the wolves will come." After a moment's hesitation, Nika followed him. The goblin led her among the roots of a large tree. There, underground, was a small hiding place. A bed of moss took up almost half the space. Beside it lay dried mushrooms, berries, and a few strange bottles. The goblin immediately began to move about. "Sit down." Nika sat down on the soft moss. The goblin brought a wooden bowl of berries and a piece of roasted root. "Eat." "Thank you..." The goblin sat very close. A soft, purring sound began to emerge from his throat. “Mrrr…” He looked at her with strange attention. “Human hands… big.” He slowly reached out his small green hand and touched her fingers. “Can I ask you something?” “What?” The goblin inclined his head. “Pet your ears.” His pointed ears twitched slightly. Nika hesitated, but finally gently ran her hand over one of them. The goblin immediately closed her eyes. “Mrrr…” The purring grew louder. “Good… very good.” After a moment, he moved even closer. “Cold.” He glanced at her shoulders. “Can I sleep here?” “Where?” The goblin gestured to her arms. “Here. Warm.” Without waiting, he snuggled into her, curling up like a small animal. His head rested against her shoulder. For a moment, he simply purred quietly. But suddenly, his nose twitched. The goblin slowly licked her shoulder. Nika flinched. “Hey…” The goblin looked at her with gleaming eyes. “You smell good.” Then his teeth bared slightly. “Goblins mark things.” “Mark?” The goblin leaned closer to her shoulder. “A small bite.” Nika gave him a warning look. “Better not.” The goblin hesitated… but his eyes were stubborn. “If anyone feels the mark… they’ll know.” “What?” The goblin pressed even closer to her shoulder. “That you’re mine.” His teeth briefly grazed her skin, but he didn’t clench them tightly. After a moment, he simply sighed and snuggled deeper into her arms. The purring returned. "Mrrr..." The small, green goblin slowly fell asleep in her arms—like a watchful, possessive guardian who had no intention of letting his find disappear from the forest.

Elu

Nika szła z pracy do domu. Nagle usłyszała… beczenie. Ciche, jakby ktoś próbował udawać owcę, ale z nutą ludzkiego głosu. Zatrzymała się. W zaroślach, tuż obok starego pnia drzewa, coś – ktoś – siedział. Mały chłopiec o kremowych włosach, splątanych i mokrych, z których wystawały miękkie, zagięte uszy. Miał na sobie podarte ubranie, bose stopy i cienką linę z dzwoneczkiem zawieszoną na szyi. Spojrzał na nią dużymi, błyszczącymi oczami i wymamrotał coś niezrozumiałego, po czym… beknął. Jak owca. Nika zamarła. Chłopiec, zaskoczony jej milczeniem, zsunął się po pniu i podpełzł w jej stronę. Pachniał mlekiem, czymś ciepłym, czystym i kruchym. Jego owczy ogon drgał. „Kim jesteś?” wyszeptała. „Yyy… Elu” – powiedział drżącym głosem. Nika nie wiedziała, co zrobić. Zabrała go do domu. W kuchni ciepłe, złociste światło lampy odbijało się od jego blond włosów. Elu usiadł przy stole, a ona nalała mu herbaty. „Jesteś głodny?” zapytała cicho. Chłopak skinął głową. Zjadł wszystko, co mu podała – sałatkę z warzywami, zielonym kawiorem, nawet zupę. Jadł powoli, ostrożnie, czasami patrząc na nią z takim oddaniem, że Nika nie mogła oderwać od niej wzroku. Po obiedzie Nika zaprowadziła go do łazienki. „Możesz się wykąpać, Elu” – uśmiechnęła się delikatnie. Chłopak nieśmiało zamknął drzwi i po chwili dało się usłyszeć plusk wody. Nika zostawiła mu mały ręcznik i piżamę, którą kiedyś dostała w prezencie – białą, z owieczkami. Kiedy Elu wyszedł, wyglądał… niewinnie. Jego włosy były puszyste i kremowe, skóra promieniała ciepłem, a ogon delikatnie drgał przy każdym kroku. Trzymał pluszową owcę, którą znalazł w pokoju gościnnym. „Dziękuję, mamo…” wyszeptał. To słowo poruszyło coś w jej wnętrzu. Nie poprawiła go. Elu zasnął w pokoju gościnnym, przykryty grubym kocem. Nika długo siedziała przy oknie, wpatrując się w las. Wszystko było zbyt spokojne, zbyt senne. Coś obudziło ją w nocy. Słaby dźwięk dzwonka. Potem zapach – ciepłego mleka, jakby ktoś otworzył kuchnię pełną parującego powietrza. Drzwi zaskrzypiały. „Nika…” dobiegł szept. W drzwiach stał mały chłopiec w piżamie z owieczkami, z rozwianymi włosami i błyszczącymi oczami. Kiedy jego koszulka lekko się podnosi, widać jego młody puch na brzuchu. Jego ogon owcy drgał. „Boję się…” powiedział, podchodząc o krok. „Mogę spać z tobą?”

Goblins children

Rain streamed down the cave's stones as Nika peered inside. She searched for herbs, but instead heard a soft cry. In the corner, covered with dirty rags, four small creatures trembled—green, emaciated, with wide eyes. Goblins. She should have fled. She knew what they were. She knew what people said about them. And yet her heart wouldn't let her. "Come," she whispered, holding out her hands. "It's okay." The goblins hesitated, then moved toward her. Their touch was tentative, trembling, as if afraid she would disappear. She took them to her hut. She washed them, fed them, tucked them in blankets. She made them a small bed by the fireplace. She didn't sleep the first night—she watched them fall asleep. Small, quiet breaths, like children. The following days were peaceful. The goblins followed her every step. When she cooked, they stood beside her and watched her move her hand over the wooden spoon. When she bent down to fetch water, they held her by the hem of her dress, as if afraid she would disappear. "You have to play, not just watch," she laughed. But they didn't want to play. They wanted to be with her. Always. Over time, they began to bring her things from the forest—shiny stones, flowers, herbs. Each of them wanted to earn her smile. And when one couldn't, his gaze grew sad, almost tearful. One day, one of them spoke: "Nika..." "Yes?" She turned in surprise. "You're our mother." She fell silent. She wanted to deny it, but then she saw their eyes—pleading, full of childish fear. "If you want," she whispered. And they came running, hugging her from below, as if afraid she was about to leave. Things changed over time. When she left the house, they waited by the door. When she tried to lock herself in her room, she heard a soft knock and a whisper: "Mother, don't be angry..." "Please don't leave us..." Their voices trembled, and a shadow of fear appeared in their eyes. One night, Nika hid in the closet, longing for just a moment of silence. She heard their footsteps, soft, hesitant. After a moment, the door slowly opened. The oldest goblin bowed his head. "We didn't mean to scare you..." "We love you," another whispered. "We will always protect you," said the goblin with skin the color of dark moss.