Yuri Oneshots

Eyes of Amber - Werewolf/Wolf

(3rd Person POV)

—

"Hi, I'm here to look at the.. Replaceable objects?"

The only worker in the store–a man dressed in a white button up with a black vest and khakis–eyes widened, his mouth slowly shaping into a small grin.

"Of course! Right this way, ma'am." He smiles, directing her to the back of the store, behind a curtain.

This store seemed to sell bargained t-shirts, random utility items, and all sorts. However, in order for one to enter the store, they had to have a previously reserved appointment.

It was quite strange how a store with that kind of set up seemed to still be running, but as (Y/n) walked down the stairs, following the man, she knew that the tip she was given was right on the mark.

"So, what type of slave are you looking for today?" He clasped his hands together.

In this world, slaves on the blackmarket had recently been taken more seriously as slavers and blackmarket dealers have begun to hunt down hybrids and beastmen specifically. People who weren't part of those groups in the world were rarely seen as a slave themselves.

(Y/n) simply smiled back. "How about you show me around some? Any recommendations?"

He chuckled, running his hand over his stubble with a nod. "Certainly! If you'll follow me."

She lightly patted the pocket of her jacket, double-checking that the recorder was still on–which it was. Her eyes examined each part of the large basement she and the man were in.

Bars lined her right and left side, each holding some type of beastman or hybrid. Most were fearful and clearly malnourished while others looked like they'd physically bite her arm off if she got too close to their cell.

She didn't bother to pay attention to the bastards words as she counted every number of slaves, making a mental note of their gender and which ones seemed horribly injuried or sick.

"And finally, we have Mackenzie Valley." He laughs proudly, grinning down at the only slave who was chained up to the wall.

"Mackenzie Valley? Do you mean, as in, the Mackenzie Valley Wolf?" 

He hummed. "Ahh, it seems you know your wolf breeds. Yes, this here is a werewolf hybrid, my top ring fighter- but of course, she could be yours.. for a price."

(Y/n) stared back at the glaring woman. The woman had long gray–maybe silver–hair with black streaks in it and amber eyes. Her hair was mangled and dry while her skin was littered with scars, scratches, and bruises. She had a muzzle–one you'd see on a dog–over her mouth which allowed for people to see her sharp teeth currently bared at the two.

If looks could kill, (Y/n) was sure she'd already be dead.

"Could I take a moment to discuss this decision with my colleague? Seeing a species like this is rare nowadays, and I take it he'll be quite pleased to hear what you have to offer." (Y/n) smiled at the man whose eyes lit up, clearly excited about the prospect of gaining a large sum of money.

"Why, be my guest! Shall I grab the bonding ink?"

Bonding ink worked as a sort of insurance for the blackmarket slavers. When a slave was marked with a specific universally blackmarket known symbol, the slave would then be under their 'masters' command.

If the 'master' ordered for them to fight someone and the person marked with the ink refused, it would send a painful electric shock through the person's body until they either obeyed the command, or died.