#bpc yokai au

[butter-pangcake]

Yuki Onna from Conan Puzzle

[clownakai]

For @butter-pangcake's Yokai AU

and more specifically based on this post, I bring you the results of an entire day of procrastination <3 warning: may contain traces of scotchrye and the resident Cheshire Cat being a useless bisexual. Proceed with caution!

Summary:

Something is off about Shuuichi's self-appointed guide.

He should have paid more attention to those warnings of his.

Something is off about Shuuichi's self-appointed guide.

He cannot for the life of him put his finger on what it is, however, and so in the blink of an eye everything becomes suspicious.

The way he walks— just a tad too heavy, and while the kimono he's wearing obediently shifts and folds with each step, there's still something to it that has Shuuichi on edge.

Then there's the way he speaks: minutely slower than usual, as if he needed even more time to formulate his answers than he already does.

And again the way he looks at Shuuichi— eyes a bit too fixed, a bit too hungry, even for a great hunter. It makes the hairs at the back of Shuuichi's neck stand up and has his instincts going haywire: go invisible, they chant, as alluring as a siren's call. Vanish while you still can. He's able to ignore them for the most part, though. Being afraid of the Nekomata on a base animal level is hardly news to him, after all: he can't help it, just as Ryo can't help but wish to tear him apart, deep down underneath layers upon layers of iron-clad discipline and self-control.

But the thing is... Shuuichi doesn't recall being stared at quite this intensely before, and most certainly never for so long without interruption. And so this, too, goes into the ever-growing pile of things that feel off about Ryo.

The Nekomata's ears twitch as he adjusts his haori, then lazily bend forward. Shuuichi feels Ryo's shoulder delicately brush against his, the power his guide's body brims with crackling in tiny sparks all around the point of contact. He wonders, idly, if this is yet another custom among Yokai that he wasn't aware of.

"You're so quiet today, Tabibito-san," says Kei. His eyes, Shuuichi notes, are glittering much like one of his namesakes. He doesn't think they've ever done that before.

Rather than voicing any of his suspicions, Shuuichi shoots back, "I thought silent company was what you most appreciated, Nekomata-san." He turns partially as he speaks, hoping to get a better look at the Yokai's features, but Ryo is quick to take the reins and angle himself so that he's the one peering back at Shuuichi instead. He has merely moved a half-step ahead, but still that unsettling undercurrent is something Shuuichi can't shake off: it clings to the fur of his ears and crawls icily down his back and stiffens his tail into an uneasy line.

Worst of all, Kei smiles at him in lieu of answering, and Shuuichi sees sharp teeth in the curve of the Nekomata's mouth. Ah, he thinks, so that's how it is. More than a little disheartening, but how could anyone blame a Yokai as powerful and territorial as he knows Ryo to be for having had enough of nigh strangers prancing around his territory?

Still. Whichever instinct the Nekomata has elected to stop repressing, be it to destroy or to devour, is of little consequence: Shuuichi would rather get away with his life in either case. "Perhaps I should—" leave, he doesn't get to finish, because Ryo is right in his face all of a sudden, eyes half-lidded and that ever-growing, fanged smile stretching across his features.

"You can be quite silly sometimes," the Nekomata cuts him off for good when he tries to speak up again. His eyes shine like rubies in the waning daylight, and that's... that's... "Whatever gave you the impression that I'd want you to leave?"

Shuuichi swallows, then takes a step back. Sure enough, Kei follows suit with an inquisitive hum; the decorative beads woven into the fastening of the Yokai's haori clink together, and Shuuichi's traitorous ears flicker, betraying his agitation. He opens his mouth to reply, but Kei is faster: he brings a finger to his lips, and just like that Shuuichi's voice is gone— he's staring into the Nekomata's eyes, a bit hazy on what he's looking for but determined to find it in the swirling crimson. So determined, in fact, that he fails to register how Ryo's hand has moved again, lightning quick, and is now hovering near the neatly folded collar of his shirt, because he's so, so close to figuring out why his guide feels so—

Wrong.

"Oh, dear. It looks like we got interrupted." Ryo— not Ryo, this is so wrong— smiles wider. Confident— not confident: arrogant. Nothing like the Nekomata he met when he first stepped foot on Nihon's shores.

And then behind him, that exact same voice, only vaguely tinged with exasperation this time around. "Tabibito-san, what did I tell you about cats with one tail?"

To his credit, Shuuichi doesn't yelp. In fact, he needn't make a sound at all when he can embarrass himself just fine by briefly flickering out of existence from shock instead. He hears the imposter laugh, even that sound ever-so-slightly distorted and wrong, but then something cracks next to his head and the laughter turns into a piercing, agonized yowl. When he glances to the left, he gets why: Ryo may or may not have crushed the stranger's wrist with a single hand. Hm.

"Let go," they spit, which is about the time Shuuichi remembers how to move and steps away from between the two Yokai. In doing so, his eyes fall to the imposter's shadow, long and dark thanks to the setting sun, and he thinks that maybe that's why the stranger had meticulously kept themself up close and ahead of Shuuichi, always with the sunlight glaring straight at them: the silhouette they project on the ground writhes as if in pain, deformed and entirely too black to be anything but a door to the void itself. Most notably, it bears no resemblance whatsoever to Ryo's own shadow.

For his part, the Nekomata obliges with a flick of the wrist. The motion clearly aggravates whatever injury he inflicted on the imposter, who grits their teeth before taking a few steps back, melting into the last dregs of sunset-cast shade and disappearing altogether. That leaves Shuuichi alone with Ryo, and the Yokai wastes no time approaching him with the same air of barely contained exasperation as when he showed up unannounced.

"Did you not listen to a single word I said two nights ago?" Ryo huffs, meeting Shuuichi's confused gaze with a painfully knowing look. "Beware of Bakeneko, the one-tailed tricksters. I told you that."

Shuuichi, who most definitely cannot say 'I actually missed most of your explanations because I'd come down with a severe case of staring at your mouth', lets out a vaguely apologetic noise instead, because it's still infinitely better than telling the truth, and then he allows the Nekomata to run whatever inspection of his person he deems necessary. He doesn't feel any different than usual, which hopefully means he didn't get cursed or whatever it is that Bakeneko do to their prey, but he supposes one can never be too sure.

Kei's fingers reach Shuuichi's chin, gingerly tilting his head this and that way to check for... something, probably. "Did they manage to touch you?" he inquires. Shuuichi eventually shakes his head, albeit with a little difficulty, and the Nekomata's shoulders sag minutely. "Very well, then. I'll accompany you back to your settlement."

"Why?" Shuuichi tilts his head, although he easily falls into step next to Ryo when the other starts walking anyway. "I know the way, Kei-san."

The Yokai tsks. "That Bakeneko... Do you really think they've given up?"

"Ah. I suppose not."

He's not even sure why he'd want to protest the solution, really. Everything is back to normal, now. Ryo's steps, featherlight as they should be, the shifting of his kimono, his every word's measured cadence, the careful distance between them. And his eyes, dark on dark, steady blue. If Shuuichi were any less in control of himself, he'd probably start floating and flickering in and out of sight; as it is, he merely feels his body betraying him in the only other way it knows how— a deep, rumbling, mortifying purr, which he futilely hopes Kei won't notice amongst the mild chaos of the nightlife concert they're passing through.

As if on cue, the Nekomata tilts his head in Shuuichi's direction. "Tabibito-san, are you—"

"No," Shuuichi lies, as smooth as butter, and then imagines a kick hitting him square in the face. Or, better yet, one of Jodie's throwing knives.

Ryo blinks at him. One, two, three times, so very slow. And then he laughs— just an expertly simulated coughing fit, really, coupled with the barest hint of a wheeze in-between breaths. It's embarrassing and also the best thing Shuuichi has witnessed all week.

That's what he's bringing back tonight, he decides.

[butter-pangcake]

practicing on this artstyle

[butter-pangcake]

Gato

[butter-pangcake]

🐍HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025✨

When it comes to snake year; I thought of snake and ladders game, then I made this:

size: A4

You can download the HQ here. Hope you could give it a go, play with your friends on discord maybe-🍊

OH, and thank you for having me! Let's make this year to be a good one or even better!!

[butter-pangcake]

'are you alright? are you lost?'

[butter-pangcake]

i wanna yap about nekomata!hiro x cheshire!subaru(akai)

im delulu-ing with one of my followers and one day i came up with a

'What if subaru almost got trick by bakeneko(one-tailed cat) that shapeshift to be like his nekomata(two-tailed cat) acquaintance' and the scene is like this-

??: aw, looks like we got interrupted. how unfortunate.

just wanna share my brainrot have a nice day/night🤟

[butter-pangcake]

big cat and tiny cat combi... *sob*

[butter-pangcake]

first doodle of 2024

[butter-pangcake]

when will he comes home...

[butter-pangcake]

BOOP

[butter-pangcake]

there're too many things i wanted to draw in my brain so my body decided to malfunction, now I can't draw anything and feel satisfied...

[butter-pangcake]

imagine hiro playing background music in any situations

[butter-pangcake]

done o)--(

[butter-pangcake]

quick draw

[butter-pangcake]

he want involve