Mi Luna
  • Reads 48,427
  • Votes 2,757
  • Parts 22
  • Time 3h 26m
  • Reads 48,427
  • Votes 2,757
  • Parts 22
  • Time 3h 26m
Ongoing, First published Jun 23, 2020
Type has no knowledge of where he came from. All his life, he is living under the care of the Kirigun Clan despite the next Alpha Tharn Kirigun's eternal hatred towards him.

Tharn has sworn that he will terminate every single rogue he will ever meet in his entire lifetime. 

Even this beautiful and sweet who smells like lilacs and watermelons, Type, who they picked out from a rogue clan.

Despite the very strong urge to mark that beautiful nape of that sweet-smelling and devastatingly compelling Type. 

Screw instincts.






(Originally posted in AO3)
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Destiny of Love (Complete) cover

HIS MUSE (COMPLETE)

24 parts Complete Mature

28 years old Mew was having a bad day. First, his business deal that he had painstakingly been working on for the past 3 months had gone down the drain. Meanwhile, his mother had been bugging him to settle down because she wanted grandchildren. Mind you, she already had 8 grandkids! Not only that, one of Mew's fuck buddies visited him at the office and demanded that he gave more attention. Like fucking hell! Mew had too much on his plate. He was sipping his coffee while staring down looking at the busy intersection from his office when he saw him. He was a tall kid in a school uniform. Mew wondered how old could he be. The young man was talking on his phone when he laughed in total abandonment. His handsome face simply lit up. That brought a smile to the brooding Mew that morning. The young man's smile was contagious!! Since that day, Mew would leave his house early so that he could catch a glimpse of his muse. He would cross the intersection early in the morning and cross it again when it was time to head home Mew guessed. The young man unknowingly had made Mew's days better without even knowing of his existence nor significance. Then, one day Mew noticed bruises on his muse's face. He could not help but feel a surge of protectiveness. Who dared mar that beautiful face? Nobody could lay a finger on HIS muse.NOBODY!