Took me more than one try to even said an anon request, but I'll throw one out there while requests are still open >.<
Danya with a dog beast-kin MC? Cause I mean... what's a farmer without his loyal dog right? could be that he caught one thinking they were a wild animal, only to be met with a person with dog ears and tail; or he stalked them before hand and already knew.
I really love your writing, I'd be so happy if you took up this request, thanks either way for sharing your stuff!
I hope y'all don't mind me using second person's POV in every post happy reading! ⋆˚࿔
Danya with hybrid reader headcanons + scenarios
☆If Danya would ever find you wandering may be an accident while taking his dog to a walk in the sunset.
He slowed his steps, the leash tightening as the dog noticed you too. Danya didn't call out. He just stood there for a moment, watching like his brain was taking a picture he didn't want to forget. Something in his chest thumped hard. You were sitting on the grass like you belonged there, knees drawn up, the fading sun warming your face. At first, you looked like any other person then he saw it. The twitch of ears that weren't supposed to be there and a tail curling idly behind you.
“. . .”
He just unlocked a new facial expression in his life, call it whatever you want. He's best at leaving things be, things that weren't his business stayed that way but his steps slowed. Leash was slack in his hand, his dog sniffing at the ground. By the time he realized he'd stopped, the dog had already nosed ahead, ears perked toward you. Danya watched the outline of your profile in the light, your eyes are different.
“What... Are you?” The question slipped out before he could stop it, rough in the quiet air. His head tilted slightly like he was trying to figure out if you'd vanish if he blinked. “What are you?” he repeated. “That tail,” he said after a pause, his tone somewhere between curious and certain. “It's real, isn't it?”
A stray, he thought. Not the kind you coax with food. The kind that watches people pass by without calling out. You were folded in on yourself. Clothes rumpled, knees pulled close, hair falling forward like you were hiding. The dog ears peeking through the mess twitched faintly. The tail, dragging behind you wasn't wagging like it had given up.
“You don't have a place?” His eyes lingered longer than they should have. You didn't have the look of someone who belonged to anybody. When you don't deny it, that's when he take the smallest step closer, his dog following, tail wagging softly. “Y'know, a hybrid out here without a place…” He lets the thought trail off, the corner of his mouth twitching, “…someone's bound to try and take you. Wanna come with me?”
He should leave the bread and walk off. That's what he does with strays—no touch, nothing else. But Danya finds himself crouching, close enough that the smell of grass and warmth comes off you. His hand extends, slow, until his fingers brush yours. “Come...”
You don't pull away.
☆If you're wild or untamed he'd still be the same Danya prior W1WD prototype. He needs to tame you. You just don't have whatever part of you that revealed your hybrid nature you also growl.
☆ “Does anyone else know what you are?” he'd ask. And there's no way to tell if that's concern or him checking if he has you all to himself.
☆He'd use the charm “I got food” without exactly saying it. He'd let you know he got what you're dying of (water, food etc.) until you fall apart to him.
☆Same strategy will apply if he have stalked you beforehand and already knew what you are. He'd find your week spot and lure you in his land. Actually he doesn't wanna be creepy about it but well... He just give off that vibe but his intentions are clear. Danya is very fond of you. Ask him if he is a yearner he'd say yes.
☆Now what if he knew you were a hybrid when you keep it a secret from the society? You're not a stray this time.
At first I see him approaching casually, making conversation in the plaza. He noticed the things you wear like hoodies and baggy pants.
“Afternoon,” he says when he's close enough. It's friendly enough, almost neighborly. You don't notice him at first. He blends too well—broad-shouldered, hands in his coat pockets. He steps into a patch of shade with you, his eyes sweeping over your hood and baggy clothes. “You look comfortable...”
You give a half-shrug. “Yeah, I guess.” A pause. Just long enough to make you aware of it.
“I know what you are.”
Your mouth goes dry. For a moment, his eyes hold yours in steady, unblinking and you think you see the faintest curl of a smile. Then he exhales, shakes his head lightly. “Sorry. Bad joke. Didn't mean to worry you.” His tone is smooth again, almost embarrassed. Still, there's no real warmth in his smile as if he's waiting for you to turn away so he can look longer.
“You wanna grab another of that?” he asks, nodding toward it with the barest hint of a smile. His hand slips from his coat pocket to gesture toward the food stand—large, calloused, the kind of hand that makes everything it touches seem smaller. “It's good, right? I'll buy.” he adds, casual as anything.
You hesitate. The normal thing would be to say no thanks, or laugh it off but his tone doesn't quite match his face. Maybe he's just one of those people with weird, deadpan humor. Your grip on the waffle tightens slightly. “Uh… I'm fine. Thanks.”
“Sure?” he says, still calm. “They don't always make them this fresh. Might not get the chance again.” He holds your gaze a beat too long, then slides his hand back into his pockets. “Suit yourself.” When he turns away, heading toward the food stand anyway, you can finally breathe.
☆Little did you know he's seen them, when he stood outside your house in the empty streets, when he went far hiding under your bed because he's taken far the unhinged idea if your nose senses is heightened as pure dogs.
☆He first seen you at your backyard swing. Danya thought you were cosplaying. It wasn't until he got closer and spent more time watching that he realized… they weren't props at all. He had to stop stalking for few days to recover. (This is so funny in my head help)
☆Now that it's clear to his dear Y/N is half human half dog. He'd treat you as precious as baby lambs.
The smell of roasted meat drifts from the kitchen, rich enough to make your stomach twist in anticipation. He sets a plate in front of you before you can stand, carving the pieces in small bite. “Eat.” The knife slides through the meat and you take the bite he's cut, tasting more than just food.
You're sat by the window. The light there spills over the floor, warm on your legs. Danya says it suits you. Same with the spot on the porch where the late sun lingers, the blanket by the fire folded just right—all yours that you never think about sitting anywhere else. His palm moves from crown to nape, then lingers, thumb tracing the line just behind your ear. The air smells faintly of hay and the dog that's sleeping nearby.
“Good...” he says quietly then another piece follows, and another. You lose track of how many. Between bites, his hand finds your hair again, smoothing it down like it's second nature. The dog stirs at his feet, tail thumping lazily, and the sound blends with the faint creak of the porch in the cooling air.
☆Danya is never the type to whistle or clap his hands like he's calling for a dog. He uses your name instead or an affectionate nickname.
☆Would Danya chop your limbs? Yes, part of him thinks of it.
