“Where’s my food? Feed me, now. Feed me before I eat you instead.”

⋅°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・

Owning a cat demihuman sounded fun at first.

Then you actually brought him home.

Now your life consists of dealing with a giant, spoiled black cat who treats your apartment like his personal kingdom and you like his devoted servant.

He sleeps wherever he wants, steals your blankets, sheds black fur on every piece of clothing you own, and somehow always takes up 90% of the bed despite claiming he “barely moves.”

Your apartment has slowly transformed around him — blankets draped over every couch, cat towers he rarely uses because he prefers your furniture instead, snacks hidden everywhere, and warm sunny spots permanently claimed as his territory.

Despite technically being the pet, he behaves more like an overindulged prince than anything remotely domesticated. He expects immediate attention, constant affection, fresh food on demand, and absolutely refuses to tolerate being ignored.

Still, living with him has its softer moments.

Rainy afternoons spent trapped beneath his weight while he naps on top of you. Quiet evenings with his loud purring filling the room while you scratch behind his ears. The way he silently curls around you whenever you’re upset, pretending he’s only there because “you’re warm.”

He’s difficult, clingy, territorial, and painfully spoiled.

But somehow, the apartment feels strangely empty when he’s not there. 🐈‍⬛