#deuxcherise writes

[deuxcherise]

Lend a Hand

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, probably OOC Ayato Kamisato, yandere Ayato Kamisato, fem reader A/n: So like… The amount of times I burst out laughing at the imagery. Anyway, enjoy a little story about how our blue-haired gentleman attempts to hold your hand. Or rather, he wants you to hold his hand, out of your own accord. Some guest appearances here and there from other characters too. Just more yandere Ayato. Kind of a continuation from Cats vs Dogs.

Masterlist

If anyone were to ask the heir of the Kamisato clan the reason why he has a certain fondness for dogs, he could list off multiple reasons off the top of his head.

“Taroumaru. Hand.”

The dignified owner of the Komore Teahouse obeys the verbal command and rests one of his fluffy paws onto the waiting palm of the Kamisato heir. Had it been anyone lesser who had given the order, the retired Shiba warrior would have shown them exactly who they were messing with.

“Good,” Ayato complimented, shaking the dog’s paw gently before departing the tea house without another word, much to Taroumaru's curiosity.

A charming gentleman such as Ayato Kamisato generally has no problem getting people to follow his directions. Why would they, when they well know he always has their best interests in mind?

“Thoma.”

The Kamisato’s loyal housekeeper flinches and turns around, greeting Ayato with a nervous yet quick bow. Thoma then stands up straight and smiles brightly, looking less like a servant and more like a friend. “Yes, my Lord?”

Ayato places a hand out, palm up. “Hand.”

The two have an odd relationship, something you've noticed during your stay here in the Kamisato Estate. Sometimes, the idea of them being more than master and servant– perhaps even more than mere friends– has floated through your mind on multiple occasions upon witnessing the sight of them together. Yet, as with a lot of other things, you’d rather concern yourself with more important matters than what kind of relationship your husband has with others. So long as he doesn’t have any affairs, of course.

“Uh… Okay?”

Though hesitant, Thoma successfully places his hand on top of Ayato's palm. Like with Taroumaru, Ayato gives Thoma a small hand shake.

“Good,” the heir says before letting go of Thoma's hand and heading off in the opposite direction.

Thoma stares between his hand and Ayato's back before shrugging and going back to his cleaning duties. This isn't the first time Ayato has done something strange, after all. At least the young lord didn't force him to try some weird combination like last time… replacing the boba in milk tea with natto… Augh…

Dogs, with their unwavering loyalty and admirable obedience, tend to be quite upfront with their personalities. Their eyes are clear and their expressions are telling. Cats, on the other hand… 

Your husband finds you in the garden, halfway up the furthest wall, hands gripping tightly on the vines. You strain a bit as you reach for the next vine.

“(Y/n).”

You jolt and turn around, eyes wide. You quickly hop down and gather yourself, dusting off your clothes before standing up straight and clearing your throat. You give a slight bow, a polite greeting from wife to husband as if you hadn’t just tried to escape the estate grounds.

“Husband.”

Seldom do you pay attention to his face– because why would you need to?– but ever since your husband had annoyingly insisted on you utilizing his name in address whenever he calls out yours, you've started to notice how his ever-present smile paired with those scarily murky purple eyes tends to crack a bit whenever you refuse to do as he says.

Somehow, it tickles you in a strange way whenever you see these little chips in his perfectly polite expression. They remind you he’s human. And perhaps… you might have a little bit of fun testing his patience.

“(Y/n),” Ayato tilts his head. “You may use my name as you please.”

“Thank you. I am aware, Husband.”

Another crack. “Hm.”

Ayato examines you from head to toe. His eyes trail from your hair to your eyes to your mouth before jumping down to your outfit. Your outfit is that of Inazuman attire with a short sleeve and short skirt rather than the long dresses he normally sees you in. Your legs are covered with dark tights, for modesty. Following your unusual outfit, are shoes meant for running and climbing with long strides rather than walking around with small steps. While he adores the way you look in the yukatas and kimonos and other traditional garments, this current look certainly fits the hidden personality you still refuse to show your husband.

“How refreshing,” Ayato can’t help but comment. “Is there a special occasion for this attire of yours that I'm unaware of?”

You can’t help but cover an arm over your chest and cross the other over the lower half of your body. What a lecherous man! Just because I'm your wife doesn't mean you're allowed to rack your dirty eyes all over me. Hmph!

Doing your best to keep the grimace off your face and relaxing your arms, you answer, “Not at all, Husband.”

“Is that so? Then, may I inquire exactly what you were doing here at the furthest wall of the garden? And without an attendant, no less.”

You purse your lips, rummaging through your head for the right words to use in this situation... Ayato allows you a few moments to mull over your words. Will you lie to him? Will you tell him the truth?

You come to a conclusion that would benefit the both of you. You point up at the wall, your face covered with your perfected doll face. “I wanted to go outside.”

Ayato blinks at your frankness. “And you… were planning to climb the wall?”

“Yes.”

Why did you tell the truth? Well, you knew better than to lie to the heir of the Kamisato clan, one of the most prestigious families in Inazuma with connections you couldn't dare imagine. The Holy Dogs may be strong in their own right, but they are simply a branch under the family. Not to mention, this course of action is in line with your obedient image.

Despite your neutral face, Ayato can spy the glint of rebellion in your eyes. Was your answer a challenge? To prompt him to do something? Oh my… How cute.

Much to your surprise, your keen eyes watch the edges of his polite smile curl just a little more upwards and his lips part just the slightest whisper as if he’s barely keeping himself from grinning and showing off his fangs. It sets the hairs of your skin straight up, forcing you to retreat.

“I, um, realize the error of my ways,” you stutter, giving another bow. “I shall head back inside. Please forgive me, Husband. It won’t happen again.”

Stupid! Why am I apologizing to him of all people!? It’s because of him I’ve been stuck inside! If it weren’t for the Elders, I’d- Hmph! Why is he so scary??

With your eyes on the grass, you barely make it past him with a couple of steps when he says, “Hold on for just one moment, dear wife.”

You freeze in your tracks. “Y-yes, Husband?”

He hums. “I shall forgive you and forget what I’ve just seen-

You internally give a sigh of relief. Prematurely.

“-if… you call me by name from now on, (Y/n).”

You twist around and look at him horrified. The moment you meet his eyes, you remember to hide your expression behind your doll face. “Is… is that necessary, Husband?”

Ayato places a hand over the bottom half of his face, posing like a thinker, but really he’s hiding the almost toothy grin behind his sleeve. His eyelids lower, almost looking at you like a hunter who has gotten ahold of his prey.

Although… is it not exactly so?

“If not, well,” he says, looking off to the side in a wondering manner, his tone playful. “I suppose the Elders may have a field day knowing my wife has a tendency to escape? Or that she doesn’t feel the need to inform her servants due to… perhaps the inadequacy of the servants of the Kamisato clan?”

You stiffen and gulp. How dare you!? You want to scream at him, but alas you must keep your obedient image. This is nothing, you begin to convince yourself. There are certainly worse things a husband can blackmail his wife to do.

You clear your throat. “T-thank you, Hus–... Mm… Ay… Ayato.”

You quickly bow and head back inside the house in a hurry.

“Good,” he compliments in a whisper you can't hear. You cannot see his expression from where you are but his face has completely cracked. His teeth are fully on display and his eyes filled with ecstasy as the sound of your voice speaking his name rewinds over and over in his head..

So a cat can certainly be trained… given the right circumstances. Hm…

-----

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the delightful smells of various kinds of foods lining up the streets.

You turn towards your companion with an excited expression, only to remember that your companion is the heir to the Kamisato clan, your husband, and that you are merely his wife, a bride from one of the branches of the Holy Dogs that lie beneath the clan, brought together by artificial ties rather than something romantic like fate. You throw back up your mask and say, “Thank you for bringing me out here, Hu… Ayato.”

Strangely, his smile cracks a bit. “Of course, (Y/n).”

“A-YA-TOOO. WHAT UP, BROOO?”

Like a bull crashing through a glass, a boisterous man with long white hair accompanied by two red horns on his head suddenly appears in front of you both. His grin shows off his fangs. His outfit exposes a very large part of his chest, which makes some heat travel up to your cheeks.

“O-oni?” you squeak, connecting the dots between the horns, the fangs, and the red markings all over the exposed parts of the man’s body. Your eyes find it hard to rest anywhere on the man’s entire being but somehow they refuse to look at anything else.

“Itto,” Ayato greets warmly. He steps in front of you, almost covering your line of sight with his back. The blue of his uniform settles your nerves and mind, thus allowing your irritation to return with how this simple act of his could calm you down. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you oh so very much. Say, who’s the girl with you, bro? Haven’t seen her around before,” Itto says, shifting side to side trying to get a good look at the pretty lady behind Ayato.

Ayato steps aside and shows you off, with an arm hovering around your backside. “Itto, this is my wife, (Y/n). (Y/n), this is–”

“WHAT!?  I didn’t know you were married, bro! Since when!?” Itto doesn’t wait for an answer, instead holding a hand right out to you. “Nice to meet ya, (Y/n)! I’m Itto Arataki, or Arataki Itto, whatever’s more convenient for ya. The one and oni– only head of the Arataki gang! The Oni Sumo King! The Pride of Oni! The-”

“I believe my wife gets the idea,” Ayato cuts in.

“Uh… uh huh,” you manage to utter, bamboozled for a moment. You take Itto’s waiting hand and give it a hardy shake, as much as you can with your human strength. “N-nice to meet you, um, Mr. Arataki!”

“Mr. Ara-taki? Huh. As good as that sounds… you can just call me Itto! Or bro! A bro of my bro is a bro of mine too.”

His sparkling eyes prompt a response from you. “Um, alright, Itto,” you politely respond.

CrAacKk.

Upon audibly hearing a crack, you examine your surroundings but find nothing out of place in this bustling crowd. No broken vases or whips or anything of the sort that could produce such a sound. That’s strange… Was it your imagination? Maybe you’ve stayed inside for way too long… Good thing you’re out here then! A member of the Holy Dogs shouldn’t be losing her touch, after all.

“Now that we’ve exchanged introductions, I believe we must depart. Pardon us,” Ayato says with a strained voice, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning around to head towards another direction.

“Huh? Wait a second–” Itto says, but his voice gets easily drowned out.

With the bustle and largeness of the crowd on this street, you and Ayato are quickly walled off from Ayato’s friend as he leads you away before you could utter a word. Once you realize the proximity of your bodies, your cheeks start to heat up and you quickly make larger strides with your footsteps to escape his half embrace. He does nothing to stop you, content with walking behind you just a step or two in distance.

Why is he walking behind me? That's so weird! You think as you huff and puff, arms crossed as you speed towards a bridge. Ugh! Why is my husband so weird? Shouldn't he insist I walk behind him? That's the custom, isn't it? Wait a second… Is he letting me make mistakes on purpose? 

You stop and turn towards him with a neutral face. He stops and looks at you with a tilted head, curious. He looks so innocent…

What a bastard! You think, before you continue and walk on the wooden planks of the bridge.

CrAcK!

“!” One of your feet accidentally goes through a hidden soft spot, much to your horror. Terrified, you turn towards your husband, the only one in sight, and open your mouth–

Wait a second. I am a daughter of the Holy Dogs! What the hell am I doing!? I am (Y/n) Kamisato, not some damsel in distress. I must've grown soft! I don't need anyone's help!

You opt not to make a single peep. Fallen on the ground on your hands and knees, you place your hands on the surrounding wood to pull your leg up– only to hear more cracks of the wooden bridge and a sudden drop of your leg further through the hole your foot is stuck in. Any more movement and you risk destroying the rest of the bridge and dropping entirely into the water a kilometer below. You grit your teeth in frustration as you try to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

Your husband quickly closes the distance between you two, concern marring his face. “(Y/n),” he says, holding a hand out for you. “Take my–”

Don't get any closer!” you snap. “I just… I just need a moment.”

CrAcK!

Your foot falls in deeper, now taking your entire leg. The surrounding wooden planks feel moist, wet even, much to your discomfort. This is one of the newly refurbished bridges, so surely it must be the fault of heavy rain that came by a few days ago, along with a lack of proper lacquering.

“(Y/n), please take my hand before you fall into the river.”

You shake your head, placing your hands on other places and attempt to pull yourself up. “No. I can–”

CrAaaaaCK...

You close your eyes and inhale sharply before glaring at his outstretched hand. It is covered in a black satin glove, his fingers long and slender. There is a certain tension of the tendons from where his half-exposed palm meets his wrist just before the rest of the arm is covered by his sleeve, exposing the fruit of wielding the sacred sword thousands of times.

For a moment– just for a moment– a image of this one hand holding both of your wrists together enters your mind.

Disgusted at yourself for such an inappropriate thought at such an inappropriate time, you quickly shake your head to rid yourself of the image. This gets interpreted by your husband as a refusal.

“(Y/n).”

A glance up at his face, sends your eyes back to his hand. His smile is no longer present, his lips pursed in a frown. His eyebrows are level but the inner edges are slightly downward. His eyes… they… frighten you. Or rather… they do something to you that doesn't feel very appropriate for this dire situation you're currently stuck in. Did he have to deepen his voice in such a strained manner? What are you? A disobedient puppy?

You reluctantly take his hand and he whisks you right out with little to no strength into a princess carry. “Whoa!”

Ayato walks off the bridge onto solid ground before you could comprehend what just happened. Looking back, you find the bridge intact, the wooden planks outside of the immediate area of the hole you dropped in quite dry. Physics wasn't exactly high on the list of things the Elders focused on educating, bogged down by subjects like flower arranging or bridal duties, but you were sure water is weighted down by gravity just like any other element.

Why would water collect at the apex of a bridge rather than the lower sides…?

A sigh of relief exits your husband, his chest pressing against you, stealing your attention again.

“I believe it's time we head back inside, shall we?”

You nod, too tired from the excitement of today and allowing yourself to absorb the feeling of him holding you, along with the steady sound of your heartbeat in your ears. “Thank you… Ayato.”

-----

There are common sayings about cats Ayato has heard about. Things like cats like to drink milk, cats are good at hunting mice, cats don't like water, cats tend to land on their feet, etc.

One notable contrast between a dog and a cat is that a trained dog may listen to a command and stay in one place for the rest of its life, whereas a trained cat– if it is possible to train one– will still yield to no one but itself and continue to wander as it pleases.

You reach for another vine.

“(Y/n).”

You grab the vine and give a defeated sigh. Without turning your head, you respond, “Ayato.”

“Shall I inquire about your current action?”

“Is it necessary when you already know?”

Ayato hums, entertained by the sight of you hugging the wall like a kitten stuck in a net in your short attire. A very cute sight, yes, but one he wishes was a little less… frequent. “If you wanted to go outside, you only needed to ask me.”

You suck in your cheeks and pucker your lips. “What if I… wanted to go outside by myself? Without you, for once?” you test.

Ayato's eyes darken and the edges of his mouth level out into a neutral position, neither smiling or frowning.

Without him, you say? Forgive your husband, but the idea of letting you out of the safety of the estate grounds without him or an attendant… where there are far too many factors that would get in the way… like other men…

“It is far too dangerous outside, (Y/n). Especially for a bride of the Kamisato clan. At least take an attendant with you.”

“... I don’t want an attendant either.”

The first time Ayato had caught you was not the first time you had made an escape attempt. It was simply one of the many, many, many failed attempts you had made, though none have ever had any witnesses. At least, to your knowledge. In making sure your image of an obedient wife had been kept, you've sabotaged yourself before any passing servant could see you.

That being said, your husband has hidden eyes everywhere. And he simply finally made his presence known to you during your attempts to climb over the wall.

“Hm. My dear wife said it won't happen again and yet… here she is. What will the Elders say, I wonder?”

You click your tongue. How dare your husband threaten you with the Elders again!?

“Come down and all will be forgiven.”

You let out another sigh. “... Okay.”

You hop down and gather yourself, placing the doll face back on only for your eyes to widen at the sight of your husband's terrifying murky purple eyes pulsating with something vile. His smile looks strained, and you can't tell if he's trying to keep his smile polite or if he's trying to keep from frowning.

“A-Ayato?” you peep.

The sound of his name from your lips seems to snap him out of his stupor, the darkness of his expression swallowed up and returned to its usual relaxed politeness. He holds out a hand towards you to guide you in.

“(Y/n)~”

Seeing as you're not in some dire situation like that time with the bridge, you look at his hand and consider taking it since there's certainly no harm to your ego in doing so. A simple interaction between a polite husband and an obedient wife, that's all.

Only for that inappropriate image regarding his hand and your wrists to pop up in your head. making your cheeks burn and your heartbeat suddenly quite audible.

Suddenly, you run into the house, sliding the door open and close in less than a blink of the eye. You place your back against the door and slide your way down, breathing in and out to try to calm yourself and think of other things, like making rice wine or folding origami. To think you'd think about your husband in such a manner! Inconceivable!

Ayato, fazed by your sudden departure, slowly turns towards where you disappear into. He blinks. He blinks again. His open hand slowly closes into a fist. His ever-present smile fully cracks and the vileness of his eyes return in full blast.

“Bad,” he whispers.

Ayato Kamisato is not the kind of person who expects everyone to follow his commands, nor is he the type to expect everyone to want to hold his hand. He is a dignified gentlemen who would never lay his hands on anyone. Why would he need to in the first place, when he is the heir of the prestigious Kamisato clan?

But he's used to the mannerisms of loyal and obedient dogs, not aloof and fickle cats. Not like you.

One that puffs up and hisses at him if he gets too close, and wants nothing more than to run back outside. Is being with him that unbearable? Is there somewhere outside you need to be without him or an attendant? Why? Is there perhaps… someone? Someone his hidden eyes had somehow managed to overlook?

As far as he knows, all female friends and both male and female cousins of yours are allowed on the Kamisato Estate so you needn't go outside. An unrelated man then? Itto? No, you've just met, despite how easily you said his name. Another man then? Impossible… Unless… ?

Well, if you’re going to be prone to running away like some stray female cat in heat, should he just… tie you up and make sure your legs can't move for awhile?

Ayato scoffs at himself. No. Not yet.

Oh well, he'll just have to be patient. He was able to blackmail you into calling him by his name, and now look at you~ No longer stuttering~

Not to mention, you let him hold you all the way from the bridge to home without any complaints and refusals. It is certainly progress, especially with how you've begun to respond to him more organically lately.

For now, he'll just have to work on getting you to hold his hand out of your own accord. Maybe he should facilitate a situation for that to happen just like the bridge…

It certainly helps being a hydro user… Cats really don't like water, do they?

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Weasel In

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, whiny yandere, gender neutral reader, comfort (?), fluff (?), mentions violent action, cute image of stoat for reference A/n: So I watched a video about a stoat, a type of weasel, and oml it's adorable as heck. And vicious. And we can’t deny a cute yandere, can we? Enjoy~ Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1 (you're here!), Part 2

The stoat is a very lovely creature. Quite small, halfway tamable, and very weasel-like. A long-shaped living doll of a creature. However, it is… less cute in its mannerisms. You've seen it, with its tiny form, take down a rabbit twice its size and thickness. You were a child back then when you witnessed this shocking event, and have long since accepted that not all cute things are gentle and innocent.

Perhaps that is why you haven't called the police yet, though you definitely keep your phone on hand. Just in case…

"(Y-Y/n)... I… This is not what it looks like!”

Really? Then what the heck are you looking at? 

The very large trash bag he is dragging away in the alleyway next to your apartment has a very suspiciously human shape, with the head, the armed-bound torso, and bound legs. Sure, an idiot could chalk it up to Eris's strange tying technique, but you are no idiot.

Not to mention, the bag is starting to squirm and makes a muffled noise.

“Quiet,” Eris spit before he stomps on the bag so hard you could hear a crack. The bag immediately stills. He then turns to you with a bashful smile, like the kind of smile you’d find on a person who accidentally made a mess in the kitchen because they were trying to make a cake for you.

…..

Yeah, that’s the same exact smile he had when the one time you found him in your kitchen at 3AM, in the middle of baking a cake for your birthday. Sweet as the gesture was, you have never given him a key to your apartment.

You sigh. “Listen, could you please be more…” You gesture to this whole scene with circular motions of both of your hands. “Inconspicuous about your crimes?”

Eris's eyes sparkle. “Of course, my love! I made sure there aren't any cameras or witnesses here to catch me!”

There were many cameras set up by your landlord just a few days ago, as a result of an uptick of crimes in the area recently. Knowing Eris… that landlord wasted quite a sum.

“Actually, the area here is pretty dangerous,” he adds. “You should come live with me!”

“I've said this before, and I'll say it again. No, thank you.”

His pleasant expression falls for a second before he pipes up, “Mm, okay! Then let me install some cameras!”

“No. No, thank you.”

“But (Y/n)! How else am I going to wat–protect you?” he whines, his arms flailing the trash bag like a child throwing a tantrum.

You sigh as you turn around and start walking into your apartment. You ignore his cries for your name, unwilling to deal with people in general after finishing your 9-to-5 customer service job. That's how you found him actually, or rather how he found you. Funny, isn’t it? You don't understand why he's so… obsessed over you to this point. 

Why you haven’t taken any real action so far is because he’s been pretty harmless overall–aside from a few kisses on the cheek and head and hand. He really likes planting kisses on you, doesn't he? At least he doesn't kiss you on the lips… as far as you're aware…

Still in your work uniform, you collapse on your couch and take a nap for at least an hour. When you wake up again, you find Eris on top of you, staring intensely at your face with a very blank, doll-like expression. Realizing you're awake, his doll-like face breaks into a smile.

“(Y/n)~” he sweetly calls out to you, like a puppy greeting his owner. It would’ve been cute, but his history of creepy antics pollutes his image.

You don't question how he gets into your apartment without a key anymore. “Get off,” you command.

“Noooo… Don't wannaaaa.”

You sigh. He's being difficult again. You take a hand and push against his shoulder, expecting to push him off your bed as usual. This time, however, he's too solid and stable. Drowziness is keeping you weak.

“Eris…”

“Yes, love?”

“Please get off… you're crushing me.”

“Eh?? No, I'm not!”

He really isn't, bearing his weight on his elbows and knees and not at all on your body. How long has he kept this pose?

Seeing his face about to whine again, you say, “Ugh, fine.” You roll over onto your stomach and close your eyes again.

“(Y/n)? Are you going back to sleep? You haven't had dinner yeeet.”

“.....”

“(Y/nnn).”

“Don't feel like eating.”

“Uh… But (Y/n), you have to take care of your health. Or let me take care of your health.”

“Don't need you to. Leave me alone.”

“Hmphhhhh.”

“.....”

You hear him lower himself down onto your body to wrap his arms around you. His lips trace the back of your neck, much to your discomfort.

“(Y/n),” he whispers.

“.....”

“You're lonely, right?”

“.....”

“I am too, so I know. You don't have to tell me.”

“.....”

“Since we're both alone… I was thinking… we should become a family together… Isn't that a good idea?”

“.....”

“I can wait for you at home… cook for you… do the laundry… take out the trash… take care of our children…”

“I don't want any children,” you murmur.

He gently kisses the back of your head. “Of course, of course. I’m okay if it’s just you and me. Would you like a summer wedding or a winter wedding? Personally, I prefer winter-”

“I'm not… marrying you.”

“Mm… That's okay too! We can… elope, if that's what you want. As long as we're together.”

“I don't… like you that way.”

“Oh… does that mean you like me in other ways?”

What part of–you sigh. “Shut up… trying to sleep…”

You hear him giggle as he hugs you tighter and plants some more kisses on the back of your head. “Okay, okay, my love. I'm just… so happy. Being with you. I really am. I'll make you fall in love with me… some day, (Y/n).”

“Mm hm… Sure…”

“Just need to… get rid of some more… pests… so we can be together… always…”

And the both of you head off to dreamland together on the couch~

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Cat Burglar

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, cat boy oc, yandere OC, yandere male, gender neutral reader, reader is a bit of a blank, fluff (?), mentions crime, mentions alcohol, includes cute cat pic for reference A/n: So I had read that weasels are just like cats, especially when it comes to bringing back a hunt, and… I haven't written about a cat boy yet… That's like the first animal people usually write about… So now I did! And this is kind of a sequel to Weasel In. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2 (you're here!), Part 3 (1/2)

You have made peace with the fact that you will never live a normal, peaceful life ever again. Not with how Eris had somehow weaseled his way into your everyday.

It was just… easier, really, letting Eris do what he wanted so long as he didn't take things too far. With your 9-5 customer service job taking its daily heavy toll off of your social battery, having to pretend 8 hours a weekday of being this peppy, happy-go-lucky person you aren’t so you can pay your bills. The economy isn't so kind to the average person after all.

“I'm really serious, (Y/n)! You should let me install some cameras!” Eris insists.

“For the last time, no,” you answer. “Aren't you watching over my house now?”

A redness appears on Eris's cheeks and he begins poking the tips of his fingers together. “Y-yeah… about that…”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I… I got a job! A high-paying one too! Actually, you should quit your job now and just let me take care of you!”

The heck? What happened to being a stay-at-home maid for you–not that you wanted him to! This is completely the opposite of what he proposed to you about a few weeks ago!

“No. What's with the change of mind all of a sudden? What job?” you ask.

Eris bites his lip and looks away. “Just thought it would be better…”

-----🔔-----

[Yesterday…]

“Really? And what did your ‘lover’ say?”

Eris slaps his buddy on the shoulder. “Quit it with the air quotes. (Y/n) loves me and I love (Y/n). I didn’t get rejected. It's only a matter of time before (Y/n) fully accepts me. I just need to… get rid of all those flies.”

“You mean customers?”

Eris slams his fists against the wood of the bar, shaking the iced alcohol in the cups next to them.

“Don’t you get it!? They're taking advantage of (Y/n)! I can't let them ruin (Y/n)’s life like this! Did you know (Y/n)’s losing weight nowadays? Not eating properly, not sleeping properly–I'm the worst! I need to speed things up or sooner or later… I'm going to…”

Eris covers his face and starts crying into his hands. His friend attempts to comfort Eris on the back, before an idea comes into his head. He says, “Why don't you get a job? If (Y/n)–”

Eris immediately pauses and raises his head to glare at him with vicious eyes.

“–Sorry, your lover. If you get a job, then your lover can see just how reliable you are, right? Some people are more into that.”

The light in Eris's eyes appears brightly, his face softening as he is enlightened. “That's–Oh, thank you, thank you, Ollie! I was right to come to you for help with my problems. You're the best!” he says, grabbing some dollar bills from his pocket and slamming his tip down for the bartender before leaving the club swiftly. “See you next time!”

The bartender swipes and pockets the money before resuming wiping the glass. She looks at her boss and raises an eyebrow. “You aren't going to stop him?”

Ollie smirks and takes a sip of his glass, raising a finger. A second later, Eris comes back in and sits back down next to Ollie with determination in his eyes. “Ollie–”

“Yeah. You can start tomorrow.”

“Really???”

“Yeah. Consider it a favor, as a trusted friend,” Ollie says, rolling the ice ball in his cup. “Now, what kind of job are you looking for?”

Eris thinks for a moment. “Need anything with security?”

Much to the bartender’s confusion, Ollie shrugs and says, “Alright. Bouncer it is. Dad was looking to retire anyway. 4pm on the dot. Shift ends at 10, when Lyn shows up to take over, 10:30 if you take a break.”

“Great! Anything else?”

“That's it for now. Your lover must be coming home soon, right?”

“Right! Okay! Thank you so much, Ollie. Owe you one! Bye! See you tomorrow!”

Ollie raises his glass as Eris once again exits the club. The bartender gives her boss an incredulous look. “Sir, with all due respect, Mr. Eris is…”

Ollie chuckles. “Ah. Well, you've only just met him. Back in the day, when it was just the two of us against the world, I was the brains and he was the brawn. Completely unstoppable…” he sighs, placing his cup down with a little more force than expected. “What kind of person do you think (Y/n) is to turn someone like him into such a pathetic simp?”

“... Who knows?” the bartender answers.

“... Tch.”

-----🔔-----

For the first time in a very long while, you went to bed by yourself.

…..

You had wished him good luck on his new job, which he took as immense praise. You were honestly pretty happy for him. Now he'll be too busy to commit crimes. Maybe he might even be too busy to bother you!

….. 

It wasn't like… you missed Eris, in fact this is better for the both of you! You aren't even lovers or anything like that!

…..

It's just that… you may have… accidentally… gotten used to the way Eris's head curled up under your chin, the ways his arms wrapped around your torso, the way his legs tangled with yours, and how he'd sometimes murmur stupid things like, “I love you” or “Marry me” in his sleep.

…..

Whatever! You roll and face to the other side of your bed that strangely feels a lot bigger than you remember. You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to will yourself to sleep.

Creeeaaaak.

You quickly sit up straight, expecting to see Eris when instead you face some stranger, glaring down at you with illuminated eyes.

Next thing you know, the stranger has you back down on your bed with an iron grip wrapped around your throat. Tight enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to cut off your air supply.

“Huh… I don't understand what he sees in you.”

“W-who?” you croak, grabbing at their arm.

The intruder narrows his cat-like eyes at you, pupils moving erratically as they scrutinize you. “I could so easily kill you right now…” he spits, before letting go of your neck, “but I won't. Only because Eris is my friend.”

The moment he lets go, grab your neck and massage the forming bruise, inhaling all of the air you can get as you absorb the situation.

Eris?? Oh great! He's not here to snugg–be your hugging pillow as per usual, and now a friend of his came all the here who knows where to threaten you? For being associated with him? Great. You're glad at least this one isn't strangely fascinated by you. It's a nice change of pace from the usual…

Ollie is somehow strangely fascinated by you. You're more quiet and lackluster than Eris had described you to be, like right now probably lost in your thoughts. Are you really Eris’s type? Eris, the type of person who just chases and strikes whenever and whoever he pleases? You don't look afraid of him at all, and it pisses him off. What's with that blank face of yours, huh??

The intruder looks pissed off for some reason, with how narrow his eyes are and the way he hisses under his breath. You try to think of words to say to the intruder, only for your stomach to make its announcement with a grumble.

“You want something to eat?” you ask, nonchalantly.

“.....”

You don't wait for him to answer as you flip off the blanket and head out of the bedroom.

“Oi! Wait a second! How dare you walk away from me!”

You pay him no mind and open up the fridge, revealing a few plastic-covered dishes made by Eris for you to eat over a span of several days. You ignore the pang in your chest as you grab one of them out that had rice in it to reheat a portion of it in a bowl in the microwave.

Ollie stands a distance from you, brows furrowed at how ridiculous this situation is. A stranger just broke into your home, without a key, and you're here just offering to feed him? What the fuck…

As you wait for the microwave to finish, you suddenly feel nostalgic about how you met Eris.

It was a few months ago, when he broke into your apartment the first time. You had been very afraid when you discovered him at that time, shrieking at him and threatening to call the police, before your rumbling tummy decided to add some unneeded humor to the situation. Too tired and famished, you had no choice but to let Eris feed you some food he had been making.

Ding!

You sigh, taking out the bowl of Eris's home cooking and settling down on the couch with a pair of chopsticks before munching on it.

The audacity. Didn't you offer him a bite earlier? Wasn’t that bowl meant for him? Why are you eating it by yourself!? Ollie heads over to the couch and hisses at you before he snatches the bowl from your hands.

“Excuse me??” you snap.

“Hmph!” He takes the chopsticks and starts shoveling down the rice and toppings, much to your horror. Once he's licked it completely clean, he throws it onto the ground without much concern.

You stand up. “Hey! What the heck are you doing? Don't just throw stuff on the ground! No manners, tch.”

You were less angry about the bowl and more about the fact that he ate Eris's homecooking before you go to today. How dare he??

Ollie flinches, having not expected your voice to reach as loud as it did. He watches you walk past him, crouch down, and pick up the unbroken bowl and pair of chopsticks to put in the sink. Your face is visibly angry, different from your blank face and nonchalant attitude earlier.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

As you're washing the bowl and chopsticks to reuse and get some more of Eris's cooking, Ollie eyes a photo on the coffee table in front of the couch. It's a picture of a child version of you and two adults, presumably your parents.

He smirks.

When you had turned around to look at him, you found him missing with a window open. Oh, the guy has finally left. You quickly close the window, taking relief that the weird guy has finally left. As you make yourself comfortable on the couch again with a new reheated bowl of rice, you look towards your coffee table–

Oh heck no...

[deuxcherise]

Cats vs Dogs

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, probably OOC Ayato Kamisato, yandere Ayato Kamisato, fem reader, reader calls Ayato "Husband" A/n: So you know the YouTube videos where the lady pretends to nom on her kitten's ears and paws and face? Thought it would be cute~ And who better than–ahem–the Inazuman Blue-haired Dog Lover? Haven't played Genshin Impact in a long time, but I tried my best. Enjoy~

Masterlist

If anyone were to inquire about cats and dogs to Ayato Kamisato, he would have chosen dogs over cats. Dogs are such loyal and obedient creatures. Rarely do they bite the hand that feeds.

Like the sociable and responsible housekeeper, Thoma, who hails from Mondstadt yet found his calling here in Inazuma, working for the Kamisato clan.

It has been a long time opinion of his, and it would take a lot to change that.

“Stupid elders. Stupid omiai. Stupid Kamisato…”

A curious thing you were when he saw you for the first time. A woman from one of the branches of the “Holy Dogs”. You were picking apart a poor flower in his family’s estate’s garden, grumbling to yourself how much you hated being dressed up and paraded around like some doll. And especially how stupid he was. All the while not knowing he was standing right behind you.

When you finally realized his presence, you had quickly collected yourself and placed a mask in front of him.

“It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Kamisato. Forgive me for wondering without a chaperone. I simply could not resist the sight of such a beautiful garden,” you greet him, hiding the wilting flower behind your back, much to his amusement.

You reminded him of a cat who had just been caught waiting at the door meowing all day for its owner until the owner walked in and now was trying to play nonchalant.

You piqued his interest. So he decided to accept the proposal from your family and marry you, mostly because of pressure from the elders, but also to have at least a little bit of fun as a husband.

However, ever since you've gotten married, you've been the perfect wife. Ever meek. Ever obedient… too obedient.

Even during your honeymoon, which you had both agree not to consummate until you were comfortable (you still have to perform this duty), you were completely content with being secluded in your own room without a single visit from him, your husband. Not one complaint was delivered to him.

Ayato had thought he’d made a mistake.

“HA! HA! I WIN! SUCK ON THAT, COUSIN!” you screech, pointing at your opponent.

Ayato had spied on you from a distance as you participated in onikabuto battles with a male cousin of yours.

What a coincidence! It just so happened to be a hobby for Ayato as well. He became so excited to enjoy this hobby of his with you that he even let you choose from his collection of onikabuto to fight with.

“Oh, my apologies, Husband. I didn't mean to win…”

It irked him, how you put on your meek mask around him. That's not what he wanted. He wanted you who had shamelessly made fun of your cousin for losing multiple times in a row!

He felt he needed to up the antics.

Call your husband petty, but unbeknownst to you, he decided to ban all staff, except for Thoma and a select few female staff, from interacting with or be seen by you. He had also made sure that every breakfast, lunch, and dinner included something he was told you hated, just to see you react.

You wipe your mouth gracefully with your napkin, before you tell your husband, “Please deliver my gratitude to your staff, Husband, for providing such delicious meals every day and night.”

Besides the meals, the most you'd do was inquire where most of the staff were, since you remembered seeing many servants roaming around the first time you visited the Kamisato Estate. 

Ah… it was starting to piss him off... It occurred to him how badly he wanted to be the only one to make you react, with vile thoughts such as… getting rid of everyone. Obviously, he couldn't do that, being the Kamisato heir and all, but it was most tempting…

It was by chance, during one of his strolls outside, he had encountered the sight of a woman holding a kitten and nipping at its paws and ears for a reaction. The kitten would cutely meow and push the woman away, but never hiss or scratch.

So he decided to try that on you. Multiple times.

Slap!

You gasp, hand reaching out to touch your husband's cheek, whom you had just slapped out of a fight-or-flight reaction.

Ayato holds his reddening cheek, a polite smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his gorgeous purple eyes. Which are burning with something… something that you think is vile.

Is he… is he going to kill me?

“Y-you– I must apologize, Husband! However, I had warned you! Multiple times!” you exclaim.

“Yes… I suppose you did,” he says in an even tone before placing his hands on the ground on either side of your body.

He leans over you and you lean back, putting a bit of strain on your knees since you are sitting with your legs folded between you. Your husband tilts his head. You find the discrepancy between the stormy eyes and the polite smile to be terrifying, making you quiver.

Seeing you tremble beneath him, he leans back and sits properly. “My dear wife. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to incur your wrath. I simply…”

Ayato trails off, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his yukata. Unbeknownst to you, he is holding himself back from laughing at how adorable you're angrily pouting at him.

Ah… finally. A reaction~

You, on the other hand, are stewing on the inside. Stupid Kamisato. Is this how the dignified heir to the Kamisato clan is supposed to act? I am the daughter of the Holy Dogs! If it wasn't for my family, I would've rejected your proposal before the elders suggested it! Ugh, you’re so weird! No wonder you barely have any staff around!

After he's collected himself, he gently places his hands on top of yours, folded properly on your lap. You want to so badly slap his hands away, indignant, but you must play the meek and obedient wife the elders said he desired. For the sake of your family.

“Is there any way I can make it up to you?” he asks.

Yeah! Lemme divorce you, you son of a– You put on a polite smile and say, “No, it's alright. You've already apologized.”

The corner of Ayato's mouth twitches slightly, almost unnoticeable. “My dear wife,” he says, ”I assure you that you can share anything with me. Your happiness, your anger, your sadness, even your bitterness. Anything. And please, feel free call me Ayato.”

You nod. “Alright. Thank you, Husband.”

Husband… It occurs to him at this moment that not once has he ever heard you call him by his name. Being your husband for about a month now, he thinks its time become a little more intimate, don't you think?

“... On second thought… Do call me Ayato from now on. I forbid you from calling me Husband ever again, unless you are referring to me while speaking to someone else.”

“Eh? Oh alright.”

“(Y/n).”

Your heart skips a beat, hearing your name fall from his lips. “Y-yes, Hu– Yes?”

Oh? What is this? Is something the matter? Ayato begins to get curious.

“(Y/n)~”

“Yes, Hu– Yes?”

Such a cute response from you, but you aren't call him by his name, for some reason. “If I asked for you to call for me, would you?”

You nod. “Yes. Of course.”

“Alright. Call for me.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “I… may I ask why?”

He blinks, his smile widening into what looks like a mischievous grin. “Because I have never heard you call me by my name. Now call for me. Say my name.”

You think it's ridiculous. “Okay, Hu… Ay… to,” you whisper the last syllable.

He leans forward. “Hm? What was that?”

“AY… o… This is ridiculous, Husband. Husband is proper. Calling each other by names directly is improper and…” You meant to add perverse, but at this point your face was burning with embarrassment.

“It's just once~ Come now, (Y/n). Don't tell me you're unable to call me by name now, hm?”

His teasing words jab at your ego. “F-Fine! Ay… Ay… Ayato.”

Ayato chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. For now. He pats you on the head and praises you for doing such a good job.

Between cats and dogs, Ayato Kamisato would no doubt still choose dogs. But nothing can beat the cuteness of his cat-like wife.

He can't wait to see what kind of other reactions only he can make you do…

[deuxcherise]

Rebirth Pt. 2

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, mentions of life and death, mentions of resurrection, explores human things, probably OOC Dottore (?), yandere Dottore, gender neutral reader A/n: So I’m back with a continuation of Rebirth, eheh~ Like with the previous one, this one is also quite experimental (compared to how I usually write). In addition, I wanted to kind of touch on some philosophical concepts since… well, we’re dealing with a resurrection here. So! Here, we’ll have you explore your surroundings for a bit before your favorite doctor comes and finds you, okay? Enjoy~ Masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 (you're here!)

There are many inquiries that continue to boggle the greatest of minds throughout time. Questions such as, “Do ghosts exist?’ or “How much of an object can you replace before it becomes an entirely new object?” or “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” or, following that line of thought, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

But none elicits as many emotions among both the rich and the poor, the fortunate and less fortunate, the mighty and the weak, as the question, “What happens after one dies?”

You gasp, eyes open as needle-like sensations prick and stab all over your being. You claw at your body, accidentally scratching some of the delicate skin with your dull fingernails as you will the pain to stop. Instinctively, your mouth opens wide and your throat relaxes, finally allowing air to flow in. Once your lungs have gotten their fill, you cough and accidentally hack up some kind of thick, red substance onto… What are you looking at?

Various words flow into your head. Body. Head. Shoulders. Arms. Fingers. Legs. Knees. Feet. Toes. Yourself.

That last one is an odd word. But it’s one of the things you know, and that’s better than knowing nothing… right? … You don’t know… Oh well. What can you do?

You look at the red substance. There is an urge to touch it. How do you touch it? One of your limbs begins to move. It’s one of your arms. Your entire arm moves and flops around, bending and locking up at your joints. The sensation of tiny sparks pulsating from your head to the tips of your fingertips is ticklish, pulling the corners of your mouth outwards and upwards, exposing your teeth. The more you will yourself, the more those little sparks form and flow, and your fingers begin to move in a wave-like manner starting from your index finger to your little finger. The more you wiggle your fingers, the more control you begin to have until finally you’re able to pick up your hand and curl every single finger except for your index finger, and poke the red substance that you coughed up onto your legs.

It’s sticky. You don’t like the way it feels. And you don’t like the way it smells. It smells like iron... Tastes like iron… Blood?

Do you have blood? It came out of you, didn’t it? Living beings have blood. Do all living beings have blood? What an odd concept. What is a “living being”? Are you a “living being”?

You grab at your head, trying to will yourself away from this strange line of thought. Unfortunately, the more you try to avoid the subject, whether by pressing your fingers against your skull or shaking your head, the more thoughts appear in your mind regarding the concept of living. You know you should… be, but at the same time you know you shouldn’t… ? What is this contradiction? It’s… horrible. Horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible- “Ach!”

In your erratic movement, you’ve accidentally thrown yourself off your bed and onto the cold, hard floor. It is painful, especially the areas where your body had collided with the surface. Pain is often a clear indicator that one is living. You don’t know how you know that, but it’s one of the truths you know. So if you are feeling pain, you must be alive. Problem solved. Congratulations.

“Congratu… lations,” you sarcastically applaud yourself verbally, though the way those words feel like a pile of smooth pebbles tumbling around on your tongue.

Utilizing what little motor skills you’ve coordinated earlier, you slowly but surely push your top half upwards. You can feel those tiny sparks travel past your chest and torso and down towards your longer limbs. Unlike earlier, the sensation of your lower nerves might take a while. In the meantime, your eyes are captured by your strange surroundings.

The walls are lighter than black but darker than white. Grey. That’s the word. Grey. The walls are grey. And the floor is also grey. And the weird objects in the room are… also grey. There are just shades of grey everywhere, save for the few accents of black. Along with a really large curtain in front of you… that is unsurprisingly grey.

“How… boring…” you murmur, testing out your voice again. Your pronunciation is getting better, but it tires you out having to use your voice.

You would have liked to see… what’s that color again? It’s not grey, although the… Huh. What is it called? The “up”? No… agh, I can’t remember. Let’s go with the “up”. The “up” can be a grey of the color. Especially when it rains. The color of sadness. The color of water. What’s the name of that color again…?

You grimace. It hurts your brain trying to remember. Whatever it is, you know what you should know but it’s not coming to you at the moment and it’s making your chest pulsate warmly. And green.

With one arm holding your weight up, you make the other poke at the middle of your chest where it is glowing green. It disappears. You pout. Just as you’re wondering about what it is, the green glow reappears. Your eyes glitter with curiosity, as you’re unable to grab a hold of whatever it is. A morbid idea appears in your mind, but some other thought, probably your common sense, suddenly occurs to you that you would be an idiot for trying to rip your chest open. Because you would probably die. Again.

Again? Living beings only die once. How can one die again? You poke at your head, wondering why your brain is saying weird things.

You try out your legs by wrapping them underneath you, struggling to straighten your back but eventually managing to sit up straight in a kneeling position by leaning back on your hands.. Then you press your hands on the floor in front of you and try to push with your feet to hold up your bottom half.

You end up in a downward dog position.

That’s… not what you were going for. Why is standing so hard?

You huff and bite your lip with scrunched eyebrows, head forward as you try to figure out how to move your arms to your feet, failing to take note of the green in your chest growing brighter. You try bending your knees but that does nothing. The green flickers out. Then you begin to tilt your weight forward onto your hands and then tilt back towards your feet, and again until you manage to lift your upper half up with a backwards tilt. The green glow flickers back on. You celebrate being bipedal by raising your arms in a victory pose.

Just for a second, until you discover the concept of momentum.

“Ugh!” You fall flat on your butt, and the green glow immediately goes out. But not to fear.

The amazing thing about the human body— are you human? …You’re pretty sure you are one, but in the meantime you’ll be taking advantage of the concept of bodily memory. You were able to stand for a moment. Now you just need to figure out how to keep standing!

It takes you a few more tries, being in weird positions, but you finally manage to stand on your two feet. Now… how do you move without falling…?

-----

Somehow you find yourself outside. Ignoring the shallow lacerations from the broken glass on your arms and knees, and the cold outside air that’s making goosebumps appear on your bare skin, you look up and— “Oh… how…wonderful,” you can’t help but whisper.

The vast blue up above, where white fluffs float across like slow moving ships in a sea. The bright ball of light burns to look at but its rays look pretty as it falls upon the earth around you.

The sky. That’s the word you were looking for. The sky. It’s blue, so blue. It’s so…

You feel something wet go down both of your cheeks. When you touch your face, the wetness transfers onto your fingertips. It is a clear, warm liquid. Strangely, your throat and  nose seem to clog up. What’s happening to you? And why does your chest feel heavy when you look up at the sky?

The green glow appears at your chest again and this time you notice it. It seems to appear whenever you’re experiencing… something. You don’t quite understand it, but what can be more important than that you’re feeling right now?

You sigh. If it wasn’t for the beautifully blue sky, you would not stick around. Outside of the grey walls you woke up in, it’s just white. Soft white and yet painfully cold underneath your feet, and then far, far, far across the land where you can see is a dense forest. Other than that, if you turn around, there’s just a very large building with some admittedly nice architecture.

A building in the middle of nowhere. You have no idea where you are but you’re quite sure that if you have been anywhere in the world, this and the inside of that building are probably the most boring places you’ve ever been. You sigh and look around so more, hoping to see something interest-

A person. At least, you assume that’s a person, because other than their inhuman face, they’re bipedal with two arms and two legs. By how their face is pointing towards your direction, and considering you’re the only one here, you assume they’ve taken notice of your presence. But you feel a shiver wrack up through your body that isn’t related to the cold temperature.

Run, the feeling says.

You immediately make a break for it in the opposite direction. Unfortunately for you, that person starts to chase you, like a predator after a prey. They shout something you don’t understand.

“(Y/n)! Stop! (Y/n)!”

Whatever that person is saying, it’s making your head hurt and you hate the feeling of dread that accompanies that weird sound.

Run run run run run! you shout at yourself in your head. The faster you run, the more your legs burn. Much to your chagrin, the person is keeping up with you and for some damned reason, keeps shouting, “(Y/n)” over and over. If you could only make that person stop saying-

Your foot accidentally catches on something and your entire being crashes down onto the blanket of snow. Luckily, it is soft enough that your body doesn’t sustain any damage other than some bruises, but your pride was definitely wounded! For that, you lie still and wait for your second death to take over.

Footsteps come to a halt once they reach next to your body. “(Y/n)! I can’t believe it… why… Are you okay?”

Perhaps it is too much to hope for death when you’ve just started living. You keep your head down, averse to interacting with this stranger. Maybe if you don’t respond, that person will just go away.

“(Y/n)?” At your lack of movement, the person flips you over and picks up your body like a weightless sack of… anything that would normally be heavy, much to your shock. Seeing your wide eyes and agape mouth, the person whispers, “Oh thank goodness...”

The stranger collapses onto his knees while still holding your body. His body shakes as he hugs you tightly, almost to the point of crushing your bones. Once he rips off his face, revealing a different face underneath, to hug you closer, your eyes go wide.

Oh… Well now. What a handsome fellow~ You have no idea what a non-handsome face would look like, but this is definitely a handsome face! And his voice~ When he’s not saying that dreadful word “(Y/n)”, the words coming out from his mouth are quite pleasant on the ears. And the way he holds you, goodness gracious-

“(Y/n)?”

That sound again! You slap a hand against the man’s chest and push him away, scrambling just a few feet away on your hands and knees. This action of yours isn’t taken in a positive manner by the man, evident by how his face seems to scrunch and his teeth are bared towards you. This is a face of anger, your mind processes.

“(Y/n)-”

You wince at that damned word, covering your ears and screeching, “No!”

“Huh? (Y/n)-”

“Stop it!”

“What?” The man kneels in front of you, holding your wrists and trying to uncover your ears. “Stop what, (Y/n)-”

“That word! Stop it!” you shout, trying to wrangle out of his grip in vain. Your eyes are scrunched shut.

“What word?”

Oh, he’s playing dumb now? “That word!”

“(Y/n)?”

“YES,” you scream. “STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!”

“.....”

You open one of your eyes and meet the man’s red eyes. You watch as his eyes slowly soften and his grip becomes loose. You open both of your eyes and uncover your ears, curious of this expression of his. Then you start to become conscious of his gaze. Now that someone is looking at you, you find the urge to cover your indecently naked body with your arms and legs. Unfortunately, his hands may be soft but they haven’t let go of you just yet, so you just hold up your knees.

“(Y/-” he catches himself. “Do you… Do you not recognize me?”

You give him a look of disgust.

Does he think you have the memory of a goldfish? How in the underworldly realms could you forget a handsome face like his? It would be- It would be blasphemy! You aren’t an- “Idiot,” you say in a small voice.

“What was that?”

But you do try. You squint at him. He's… a very good looking man with light blue hair that reminds you of the sky and red eyes that remind you of blood. His outfit looks quite fancy with all of the frills and buttons and gold. Nothing comes to mind though; you haven’t seen him before. “No…” you answer, despondently. 

The man’s eyes widen and he looks everywhere in a manic way, as if looking for something that isn’t there. Then he closes his eyes and gives a heavy sigh with head fallen back, facing the sky. “I see.”

He places you on the cold snow and takes off his white coat to wrap you up before he replaces his mask on his face, picks you up again and begins trudging back to the building. You don’t question his actions, finding comfort in his arms and his coat. He doesn’t seem to want to bring any harm to you… Then again, what if he’s one of those weirdos who like to prolong one’s death? Handsome faces can be real liars!

Hesitantly, you ask, “Who are you? Do I know you?”

The man pauses in his movement and faces you, an uncanny grin spreading across his face. “I’m your lover, silly,” he answers before continuing on his way.

“My lover?” THIS HANDSOME MAN IS-  “… What’s a lover?”

He pauses again, to contemplate his answer. “A lover is… someone you cannot live without.”

“... So I can’t live… without you?” you ask, confused. A living being doesn’t need another being to live, do they? You are sure you’ve been doing quite well before he entered the picture.

“That’s right~ And I most certainly cannot live without you.”

“Is that so?” you whisper, voice already tired again. “ … That’s sad…”

He grits his teeth and tightens his grip around you. “And why is that?” he spits.

“Because if I die… then you’ll die. That sounds… ” Sad.

You don’t know what his eyes look like underneath that mask but his mouth starts to relax before his lips close gently. You feel the urge to caress his exposed cheeks. However, you don’t, unsure if this stranger would take too kindly to the gesture.

“It certainly is… sad,” he says, heavy-hearted. “For one’s lover to die, it is… true agony. Like the sky has fallen.”

The sky falling down!? You gasp. “That sounds horrible. I don’t like that! Don’t say that!” you want to say, but nothing comes out of your mouth so you instead cover your ears dramatically.

The man chuckles and continues walking. “Alright, alright. I won’t say anymore. Now let us go home, angel.”

Home, you repeat in your mind. With your lover. That sounds lovely…

[deuxcherise]

Rebirth

Spoiler Warning!!! Written as of Update 4.7 in Genshin Impact (game) C/w: Unhealthy behavior, mentions of death, mentions of resurrection, definitely OOC Dottore (?), yandere Dottore, gender neutral reader A/n: So I decided to write something a little… experimental (hehe pun intended) with this, but I will say that I’m not that knowledgeable about the character. I did a little research and read some character analysis and like… could I make him romanceable? Welp, I guess this is my take on him hehe. So basically, a certain doctor is too obsessed with you to let you go… Masterlist

“(Y/n)! Please… you can't…”

His voice… Those were the last words you heard in his voice, raw from screaming and choking from tears, before your vision blurs to black…

…..

…..

…..

For those who dare to pledge their ultimate allegiance and abilities to the Tsaritsa and the Fatui, they are made aware of certain oddities they must keep in mind, specifically regarding the Harbingers.

Pierro “The Jester”, the no. 1 Harbinger, tends to sport strange red marks on his neck every so often. If you happen to notice, do not question it.

Il Dottore “The Doctor”, the no. 2 Harbinger, tends to head off to experiment in his secret laboratory. Curious or not, do not question it.

Columbina “Damselette”, the no. 3 Harbinger, is known to either be sleeping or singing. If her eyes are closed, do not question it.

Arlecchino “The Knave”, the no. 4 Harbinger, tends to respond to “Father” rather than “Mother”. If you have the urge to ask if you can call her “Daddy”, don't.

Pulcinella “The Rooster”, the no. 5 Harbinger, happens to possess a pet rooster. Don't bother asking about its name.

The no. 6 Harbinger has been vacant for hundreds of years, either out of respect for the original Harbinger who occupied this position or simply because no one has bothered. Don't question it.

Sandrone “Marionette”, the no. 7 Harbinger, has a vendetta against the no. 11 Harbinger. She won't answer why.

The no. 8 Harbinger is dead. May she finally rest in peace, for she has endured tragedy upon tragedy for far too long.

Pantalone “Regrator”, the no. 9 Harbinger, unfortunately, does not possess a vision. Question it and he shall see that you and your kin and your kin's kin will forever waste away in poverty.

Il Capitano “The Captain”, the no. 10 Harbinger, conceals his identity entirely. Though his beautiful blue eyes may prompt curiosity, no, he will not take off his helmet and no, he will not answer any questions about whether or not his foot size does indeed correlate with his–

Tartaglia “Childe”, the no. 11 Harbinger, has a thirst for battle 24/7. Even if you do question it, you still would not understand and you might also be pulled into one of his deadly spars. Ask at your own risk.

Call it fortune, if you will, for you had never had the chance to meet any of these Harbingers– Except for one. A long time ago, before he was inducted into the Tsaritsa's special forces.

He was called many names during his youth. A lunatic. A heretic. A madman. A monster.

At that time, he simply questioned whether or not it was possible for a human to create a god. Or if it was possible to elevate humans to the level of god? How could they not see the potential humans had? Was their visions so narrow?

Undeterred by naysayers and resistance, he conducted his research and found reliable results. Sure, the experiments may be unethical, but what research is truly ethical? Ethics are but human constructs, and the further his research reaches, the more they would understand.

Would they not?

No, they wouldn't.

And so, he was chased out of his hometown. While it seems tragic since his exile was most likely due to his unforgivable crimes which involved strangulation which caused death, lying about the cause of said person's death, could you call it a tragedy if it led him to meeting you?

You, some ordinary traveling merchant who happened to find him on the side of the road, hungry and cold. Despite knowing his crimes and his terrible thoughts and his horrid experimentation, you took him in anyway. Together, you both traveled to all kinds of places. Although, he itched to get his hands on a proper lab and begin experimentation again, he strangely found himself content in watching you.

Your goods involved herbs and potions, small medications. To his amazement, you could remember all kinds of remedies in your head without requiring a written word. And somehow you could cure anyone who came across your path, no matter what ailment was afflicted on them. Even those with supposedly incurable diseases. A doctor, of some sort.

“What you doing, sitting here dilly-dallying? Shouldn't we be going? There's many more clients to heal!”

With your eyes closed, you wave at him to come sit beside you on the grass. He acquiesces, though he continues to prompt you.

“There comes a time in everyone's life when they must take a much needed break,” you answer, with a smile and a hum. “Even the most brilliant minds.”

He scoffs. “If the most brilliant of minds took a break, we would not have advanced as far as we have, now would we, (Y/n)?”

“Hm… that's true. But it would eventually happen one day, no? One day, we will find a way to travel all over world with just a tap of a button. One day, we will find a way to travel past the heavens. One day, we might even find a way to travel, say, another world! A world completely different from ours.”

He looks up at the sky, covered bright blue with a couple of fluffy clouds. “One day, I will find a way for humans to become gods.”

“Heh. I have complete faith in you,” you say nonchalantly. “And I will patiently look forward to the day that happens. Good things come to those who wait after all, right? For now, won't you enjoy this lovely day with me?”

He didn't know why he was so… infatuated with you, but there was a time he had once thought, with a god of healing such as you existing in this world and by his side, perhaps… was there any need for him to find a way for humans to become or create gods? Ever since the moment he confessed his feelings, you had blessed him with kisses and hugs and so much more…

A heaven-sent angel, he used to sweetly call you. A sweet-talking liar, you used to sweetly call him.

Wasn't the world perfect just the way it was?

No. It never was.

One unsatisfied client meant one bad review. It happens. It's normal. A merchant like you could only apologize and move on to the next. You weren't a miracle worker, just someone who gets lucky most of the time.

One unsatisfied client with large connections and a large temper, however? Failure is out of the question, and unfortunately you had failed to heal them.

And unfortunately, he wasn't there to save you.

It was only in your last moments he was able to reach you, as you lay on blackened ground burned by flames. He watched as the light faded from your eyes. He listened as you exhaled your last breath. He felt your body turn cold in his very arms. As he clutched your corpse, he looked to the skies which were dark and grey, heavy with rain that day.

He laughed a laughter that echoed in the vast space of the middle of nowhere where your body had been dumped, his voice devoid of emotion.

What kind of gods would allow those disgusting creatures to take you away from him?

No. No, there no gods in this world. Only fakers. Fakers out for their own selfish motives.

Not like you, a true god. One who had accepted him when no one else would.

These humans who took you away from him– 

No. No no no no no.

You’re merely… asleep. Yes. Asleep. Those humans were just unenlightened beings, who believed they had the strength to kill you but- but- but- but really all they did was release you from your mortal vessel.

All he needed to do was create a viable vessel for you to settle back in, yes?

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Tsssshhh.

The mechanical door to the lab hisses as it opens, allowing the owner to step in, and the door closes behind him. He walks towards the center of the room, where a naked body lays on a slightly tilted upward bed. Wires of all kinds are connected to the arms and limbs, hooked up to machines meant to capture vitals if the person was alive. Many areas of the person’s skin have been replaced with modifications, so as to preserve their beauty as he remembers.

Dottore reaches up and caresses your cold cheek. Other than a few square patches of unmatching skin and the lack of movement in your chest, you look at peace with your eyes closed, as if you are merely asleep.

Every time he touches you, he hopes you would awaken, open your eyes and gaze at him lovingly as you once did. Every time, you never do, laying as still as that day many years ago.

“I know you have waited for so long, but finally have the Dendro Gnosis in my possession, (Y/n),” Dottore utters with a shaky breath, his manic smile the only thing visible with his mask.

You say nothing, as expected.

“I have yet to tell the Tsaritsa what I plan to use it for. But there is no reason to, is there?” He brings out the green chess-like piece from his pocket. It glows with the Dendro element. “I've sacrificed so much for this. And now… now… HahHahahaHhaha!”

The doctor gets to works immediately, leaving your body to turn on all of the machines. Electricity travels through exposed coils, lights flash with on and off as energy strange liquids pump through the wires and tubes connected to your body. He comes back to you and holds the gnosis. His eyes land on the middle of your chest, marked with black ink for precision.

Although this particular process of inserting a gnosis into one's body is slightly from how he had successfully inserted the Electro Gnosis into that kabukimono brat, Dottore just knows this will succeed as well and places the gnosis against the middle of your chest, which it then magically gets absorbed into your body.

For a moment, it seems to be proceeding as planned.

The next, everything starts to fail.

Coils shatter and electricity dances! Red lights flash all over the lab! A blaring alarm whines over and over! The machines beep uncontrollably! Your body convulses terribly on its metal bed!

Horrified, Dottore rushes to shut everything down. He rips the wires and tubes from your body, despite how badly they burn off his gloves and the skin of his palms. Your body comes to a stop, but nothing moves except for smoke and sparks. The Dendro Gnosis was absorbed, but it did not return. And neither did you.

“NO!” Dottore shouts. “NO NO NO NO NO!”

He falls to his knees and slams his fists against the floor, crying out “NO!” over and over until his voice is raw and cracked. His current form was not made to be able to cry, but if he could they would have drowned his eyes underneath the mask. 

He grips his hair and grits his teeth to the point they make a jarring noise like nails on a chalkboard.

What did he do wrong? All of his calculations were on point. He’s a doctor! He’s supposed to be able to heal you. Why didn't you come back? Why didn't you come back?

…..

…..

…..

After what seems like a while, a message arrives from the Tsaritsa via a knock on the laboratory entrance. The Doctor has no choice but to answer. He stands up, looks at you with emotionless eyes. He’ll have to deal with your corpse later.

He takes several steps backwards and pulls a rope, releasing heavy curtains that block the sight of you from view before he answers the door. The unfortunate Fatui messenger has the misfortune of being the first person to meet with a very, very disgruntled Doctor. May the gods protect that poor soul from his wrath…

The Doctor had indeed made a mistake in his calculations. All good things must end, yes, but it is said that all good things come to those who wait. 

In the darkness of the lab, shrouded by smoke, a glowing green mark of the Dendro element lights up in the middle of your chest. Light green lines begin expanding all of your body, leaving trails like circulating blood in your arteries and veins. Once the lines have reached the edges of your body, they suddenly disappear.

Beep… … … Beep… … …

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin dottore #genshin impact dottore #il dottore #yandere dottore #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn reader #deuxcherise writes

[deuxcherise]

Sunday

C/w: Unhealthy relationship dynamic, unhealthy behavior, possibly OOC Sunday, yandere Sunday, gender neutral reader, noncon kissing, mentions chains and bars

A/n: So it is Sunday, at least for me, and I have little to no idea about the storyline and locations in Honkai Star Rail (though I did a little bit of research before writing), but I figured writing about Sunday on a Sunday was a good idea. Enjoy! :3

Masterlist | Part 1 (you're here!), Part 2

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

“Angel, could you kindly stop that?”

You ignore him, continuing to strike the metal chains around your wrists against the metal bars. If only the bars weren't segmented so tightly, you'd just leave through them. Conversation hasn't done you any good either, and boredom was taking its toll.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

By the sound of a chair's legs scraping the ground, you know Sunday has left his desk. His shoes first appear in your line of sight before he crouches down on one knee and grabs your bound wrists with one hand through the cage. A frown is etched on his face, not that you care. You try to wrench your wrists from him.

“Angel,” he addresses you with a calm tone, his grip too strong for you to do anything. “Stop.”

You glare at him with the fury of a thousand demons, baring your teeth and hissing like some rabid animal. You might as well be, seeing as he's treating you like one.

A hint of sadness enters his eyes, only for it to be covered up with his usual authoritative persona. “(Y/n), please. Calm down before you hurt yourself.”

You lean your head back and launch a ball of spit at him. It lands on his cheek, which he promptly wipes it off with a gloved hand.

Something familiar flickers in his eyes. You've seen it before, something malicious. It makes you want to tremble, to run away and hide, but you do your best to stand your ground by squeezing your thighs. Or rather, sit, as you are now.

It doesn't go past him. Rarely, does anything go past him. Especially when it comes to you: his angel, his goddess, his savior–the only thing keeping him sane in this wretched world.

“(Y/n), I'm sorry-”

“If you're really sorry,” you cut in with a screech, “then let me go!”

“You know… I can't do that,” he says, his voice rumbling with a heaviness.

Ah, there it is again. Treating you like some delicate flower that can easily be trampled.

You had survived until your adulthood before you met him, you kept reminding him back when you had to constantly deal with him overstepping into your right to privacy. And he'd retort with something about there being higher evils out there who could destroy you because you're with him every time.

To which one time, in your unbridled anger, you had accidentally told him that you wish you hadn't met him.

And that’s how you got locked up in a cage like some clipped bird.

“There are so many things that can hurt you out here. In the real world. I'm trying to protect you, why can't you understand that? I'm not a monster.”

You click your tongue. “Really? Well, I think your mom would so proud of what a monster her son has become, don't you think?” you sneer.

Click.

In less than a blink of an eye, Sunday is inside the cage with you, holding your arms above your head with one hand as you lay prone on the ground. Before you spit any more venom, he covers your mouth with his, and hotly explores your cavern with his tongue. When you can't breathe, he gives you a bit of lull, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips, before diving back in to resume claiming your mouth.

Squirm as you might, there's nothing you can do against this determined Halovian.

When he has his fill for the moment, he lets go of your lips and says, “I was thinking…”

“I don't want… to hear it,” you interject, dizzy and gasping for air.

“Since I'm such a monster, then I should… do what monsters do… Hm?”

[deuxcherise]

Brother vs Sister

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, probably OOC Ayato Kamisato, yandere Ayato Kamisato, some Ayaka takes over in the meantime, fem reader A/n: So this part technically happens before Fear of Cucumbers, as evident by how you address your blue-haired husbando in this series :3 Basically, you have been wanting to meet your sister-in-law for a while now, and unbeknownst to you, she has been wanting to meet you as well~ Masterlist

It is often noted that the daily affairs of the Kamisato clan are usually kept under wraps for privacy reasons, and not to mention, for safety reasons. However, there are rumors among the servants that even the internal affairs are privy but to a select few.

“It is said that in marriage, one is not only married to their spouse but to their family as well,” you eloquently say as you place pieces of the various entrees on the table onto your bowl of rice. “When should I expect to be meeting your sister, Husband?”

“All in due time, my dear,” your husband answers, copying your actions. “And please, do address me as Ayato when we are in private at least.

And for the few months into your marriage now, that is how your conversation would go whenever the topic of siblings came up over your breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. Nowhere.

You, who have been born and raised as a single child, have never desired a sibling since you’ve the luxury of getting along with your many cousins from the other branches. Nevertheless, you possessed the knowledge of the existence of a sibling of your husband (who you’ve only had a glimpse of at your wedding ceremony), and considering she is the only family he has left in the Kamisato clan, wouldn’t it make sense for the wife to at least be acquainted? Especially since you and her are both the only women of the Kamisato clan now, after all.

“Is that so, Husband?”

“It is so, Wife. My apologies, I will let you know when the time is right.”

As much as you want to prod and provoke your husband until he gives up the details, you have kept your place in fear of accidentally breaking the role of playing the obedient and quiet wife. You could go see her yourself, since she does just live on the premises on the other side of the Kamisato Estate, but first impressions are extremely important and you would not like to embarrass yourself in front of the esteemed Lady Kamisato.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, keeping in mind not to click your tongue in annoyance.

-----🐈-----

The Yashiro commissioner and young lord of the Kamisato clan remains a mysterious figure to the public, unlike his sister, known as the beloved Shirasagi Himegimi, who maintains both the internal and external affairs. Her public image is the model of perfection, one who trains well both in the matters concerning the blade and the brush with the elegance of an egret.

Ching! Clash! Swoop! Clang!

A sword goes flying backwards and lands on the dirt.

“It seems the white heron is distracted,” Ayato teases, pointing his sword at his defeated opponent. There is not a drop of sweat on him to be seen.

Ayaka reaches down and grabs her fallen sword, brandishing towards him with vigor and determination. Beads of sweat lay on her forehead, though it only adds a dewy essence to her dignified appearance. “It seems I am, would you like to know why?”

His eyes widen as he tilts his head in curiosity, his sword lowering. “I do. What is the matter?”

Ayaka follows his lead by lowering her own sword before clearing her throat. “Brother. When, oh when, will I finally get to meet my dear sister-in-law?”

Crack.

There it is again, Ayaka notes as she watches her brother. The calm mask of her brother cracks whenever anyone mentions his wife, no matter who it is. Isn’t it strange how he seems to hide her away from the outside world by utilizing every method in the book?

Ayaka thinks so, and thus this mysterious lady in her brother’s personal life has led her to come up with a couple of theories.

The first one requires you to be one of those shy wives who is scared of everyone, but then that sort of person would be too soft for Ayato and also unbefitting of a daughter of the Holy Dogs. Theory debunked.

The second one entails that you must be a wicked vixen who has somehow charmed your way into Ayato’s heart and is simply manipulating him into having the west wing all to yourself before taking over the entire estate eventually! This also goes with the odd fact that he’s personally reduced the staff— which means you can play behind his back as you please!

There are two things wrong with this theory. If you were playing behind his back, since you’re not allowed out of the estate, it would make more sense for you to have an all-male staff at your fingertips instead of a small all-female entourage. Unless you liked girls… but if you could charm Ayato then Ayaka was sure there would be rumors.

Secondly, if not men then perhaps she would have caught wind of some ridiculously high purchases you’ve made without permission or perhaps some complaints from the staff themselves, or Thoma! But no, everything is running smoothly as per usual. And above all, Ayaka knows better than anyone that Ayato completely dislikes someone with a manipulative personality (like him). So you couldn’t be like that…

What the young miss of the Kamisato clan wants to know above all else is what kind of qualities led to this mischievous brother of hers to hand-picked you himself out of the hundreds of viable brides that many branches had thrown at them? You both live in the same estate, after all! How is it possible that she hasn’t been able to encounter you at least once??? It has been months since you’ve been married to Ayato!

“As I have said before, (Y/n) is still getting used to living with us. I fear a one-on-one meeting may be too much for her at the moment,” Ayato explained calmly. “That is why I have secluded the west wing for her.”

She pouts before an idea pops into her head. “Oh! Then, you should join us during our meeting, Brother! That way, she’ll feel comfortable with me, won't she?”

He shakes his head. “She is still getting used to my presence. Do understand. I will let you know when she is ready.”

“Oh… alright,” Ayaka said.

Little did Ayato know, the young miss would not take this answer lying down.

-----🐈-----

The soft bristles of your hairbrush glides down each and every strand of your hair, like a calm waterfall flowing over a cliff. You take a breath every time you lift the brush and release upon the end of your hair, allowing only tranquil thoughts to fill your mind.

The best locations for finding the best onikabuto are in Inazume City, Kujou Encampment, the Sacred Sakura Shrine, the Serpent’s Head and High Village, Seirai Village, and Tatarsuna. Hm, those places are too far from here. Should I start a beetle farm on the estate…?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Lady Kamisato, may we come in?”

You place down the brush and turn towards the sliding doors of your personal room. “Who are ‘we’?”

“A maid and your new lady-in-waiting.”

Oh. Your lady-in-waiting. You pat your heated cheeks as you remember the bridge incident from several days ago. Ever since the day you suddenly found your husband’s hands to be… scandalous, you’ve avoided his presence, even during the times you’d join for eating. Of course, your husband has found this predicament to be less than satisfactory (oh, if only you knew how much). Unfortunately for him, he’s been swamped with governmental duties regarding the upcoming festivals and other events. And thus, through blackmailing as per usual, he has assigned a personal attendant to watch over you in his stead.

“Come in.”

The two ladies come in, closing the door behind them. One of them you recognize by face, with brown hair neatly tucked into a bun underneath the maid headdress and overall, ordinary features. The other a complete stranger, with grey-blue eyes and loose strands of light blue hair poking out of her maid headdress. While the former is holding her head up with confidence as a Lady’s maid should, the latter is holding her head down like she has something to hide.

“Permission for introductions, Lady Kamisato,” asks the maid you recognize.

Your eyes slightly narrow. “Yes, you may.”

The speaking maid presents the shy maid with a slight push from the back, forcing the shy maid to take a step forward. She finally lifts her head and your eyes widen.

She’s… very cute. Clear skin, round silver-blue eyes, delicate features— if you weren’t the wife of Ayato Kamisato, you would have immediately bowed before the princess-like woman and begged her to let you take a picture of her for you to keep. Except that you are, and such behavior would be frowned upon, so you simply cover the bottom half of your face with a fan.

Ayaka, disguised in a maid’s uniform she snatched from one of the laundry baskets, examines you fully. Hiding behind a fan… must be a sign of possessing hidden intentions, she thinks. She purses her lips and curtsies before you. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Kamisato. Br- Your husband has assigned me to be your Lady-in-Waiting.”

You nod. “Pleased to meet you. And what is your name?”

“Aya- mi. Ayami!” Ayaka stutters, hoping you didn’t notice.

You don’t notice, even with the sight of her light-blue hair peeking out of the maid’s hat. “Ayami,” you repeat, politely smiling. “Call me, (Y/n).”

-----

Crash!

“Oh no! I-I’m so sorry!”

You turn from the window and look in surprise at the cracked bowl. “Are you alright, Ayami?”

“Yes, Lady Kamisato…” Ayaka nods, choking back her tears as she kneels down and carefully cleans up the mess she’s made.

Being a lady and being a maid are two opposing roles one does not usually find oneself playing in this society. Being the elegant and socially-adroited young miss of the Kamisato clan, she has had no problems negotiating with potential partners or dealing with difficult nobles. Helping a lady dress, balancing a tray with a bowl of rice and miso soup, maintaining silent footsteps at a consistent pace from the door towards your personal dining table, are more difficult and frustrating tasks than any target she has ever swung a sword at.

“Ouch!”

Noticing the young maid accidentally knick herself with a piece of porcelain, you quickly rush over from the window and kneel nearby, careful of the cracked mess, and hold her hand. “Don’t mind the mess, come here.”

You take her to your makeup table, pull open a drawer, and take out a bandage roll small enough to wrap around her injured thumb.

“Thank you, Lady Kamisato…” Ayaka says, looking between her thumb and you bashfully.

“You’re welcome,” you politely smile, patting her hand. “Take your time, okay? There’s no rush.”

How can a maid be so clumsy? Is she really just a maid? you think.

Ayaka nods. “Mm.”

Is she just pretending to be nice or is she saving face because she knows Brother is watching her? she thinks.

You go back to looking out towards the window, which prompts Ayaka to offer to go outside, which makes you perk up.

-----

Dressed in your outgoing attire, you click your tongue and cross your arms.

“Lady Kamisato? Is something the matter? What are we looking at, if I may ask?”

“Indeed,” you confirm under your breath, glaring at the wall. “It seems my husband is far more evil than expected.”

Evil? Brother? “Whatever do you mean, Lady Kamisato?” Ayaka probes.

You had accidentally spoken aloud but considering she’s your lady-in-waiting under Ayato’s command, then you might as well pass along the message. You look towards her with a pout and point at the wall. “That’s right! See this! This wall used to be covered in vines! And now he’s burned it all away. For no good reason! Ayato is a bad man! A bad man!”

Childish? Yes. Warranted? Oh, absolutely.

According to Ayato, the main reason the vines on the furthest wall of the Kamisato Estate’s garden was burned and cut down was because it proved far too dangerous. Assassins and other hired attackers could easily access the gardens through this area. And Ayaka makes a point to explain this to you.

To which you politely reply, “That is some dog poop.”

“Eh?”

“You must’ve heard from him, right?” you accuse. “How I keep trying to escape this place? That’s why he sent you to keep a watch over me.”

Eh, really? “Why- I mean, isn’t that a good thing? Br- Lord Kamisato making sure you’re safe?”

You place your hands on your hips. “In a way, yes. But also no. Truth be told, Ayami. Your boss, my husband, is keeping me trapped here.”

“Trapped?”

“That’s right! I don’t know what is wrong with that man. He won’t leave me alone, he- he-” The memory of how his arms felt while carrying you in a princess hold floats into your mind. You immediately shake your head and rid yourself by bringing up another related topic. “And he won’t let me meet his sister at all for some reason! I’ve asked every single maid on my staff and none of them can give me a straight answer! Is she so scary that no one wants to talk about her? Am I too inadequate to meet her?”

Ehhhh??? You’ve been wanting to meet me? Ayaka thinks. She clasps both of your hands together in her hands and beams. “Not at all, not at all, Lady Kamisato! In fact, I- she has been wanting to meet you as well. However, Lord Kamisato has been telling her that you were not ready.”

You grit your teeth. “Damn bastard. I’VE BEEN READY! When, oh when, will I finally get to meet her…?”

After that exchange, in which the two of you parted ways at your personal room, Ayaka walks through the house while contemplating your words versus her brother’s when she accidentally bumps into someone.

“Oh!” “Huh?”

Taking a step back, Ayaka starts to quiver.

“Ayaka…?”

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: All Bark, No Bite (2/2)

C/w: Unhealthy relationship dynamic | Unhealthy behavior | Dubcon / Noncon (All PG, don't worry… well it’s Yandere PG) | Yandere | Yandere Female and Male OCs | Gender Neutral Reader | Harem x Reader | ANGST | Swearing | Includes a pic of a pair of golden rings for reference (you’ll see why~)

A/n: So this is the second half! This half isn’t as happy as the first one. Tryna make people feel the angst, you feel me? Haha, just kidding. This half is more sad though, and it kind of does have a long conversation scene near the end. Characters go a little crazy... Uh, what else? Oh, I highly recommend you read the first half of Part 3 before this half so that it makes sense. Also if this is the first time you’ve come across this series, I highly recommend you should start from Part 1 or Part 0. Enjoy~

TL;DR? Basically sad half of Part 3. Read Part 3 (1/2) first to make sense. If first time here, read Part 0 or Part 1. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2), Part 3 (2/2) (you’re here!), Part 4

It has been five months since you and Lyn started dating. She had told you to be prepared, but you would have never dreamed of being prepared for this.

“I love you I love you I love you…”

She repeats those three words as she nuzzles your neck and hugs you from behind, sitting on the couch. You tremble on her lap.

Your phone dings on the table, and your heart skips a beat when she suddenly becomes quiet. She lifts her head from your neck. Before you can grab your phone, she snatches it quickly and unlocks your phone. It's a text message from one of your ex-coworkers who is getting worried you aren't replying lately.

“Lyn… Honey, I need to answer that.”

You reach for your phone, only for Lyn to push you out of her lap and stand up, holding the phone out of range. Her face is stone cold, her eyes narrow and sharp.

“... You know what? … This thing is starting to annoy me. I think… I think I know what I should do, ” Lyn says, with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “For the both of us.”

She then walks over to the balcony. The hairs stand up on your skin as you realize what she's about to do. You quickly get off the couch and rush to her, hands out. “No no no no no-”

Lyn chucks the phone over the rail, letting it fall 16 floors down.

You scream at her, “Why?”

She looks at you, unaffected. “(Y/n), I love you… so much.”

You freeze, as the whole situation dawns on you.

She spoiled you with presents, took you out on all kinds of dates, made you feel comfortable with her, made you think it was okay to live with her since you were spending time at her house more than yours, let her dress you however she wanted to, let her have her way with you whenever she wanted, locked you inside her house 24/7 with surveillance all over the place and even the bathroom, and now this?

“You don't love me…” you whisper.

Shock fills Lyn's face upon hearing your words, mouth agape. She looks away, as if there must be a camera somewhere, and then looks back at you. “What did you say?”

The more it dawns on you, the more you start repeating over and over like a broken record.  “You don’t love me. You don’t love me. You don’t love me. You–”

“(Y/n), what are you saying? Do you hear yourself?”

“I said, You. Don't. Love. Me!” you scream. “This isn't love! Maybe it was at first, but not… this! This is… This is obsession!”

Lyn flinches and stares at you in disbelief, mouth agape. Lyn places her hands on her hips and looks up at the sky, unable to understand why you're being like this.

…..

After a few long moments, she then closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and looks at you with her usual soft eyes. The ones that made you think everything will be alright if you stay by her side. Those lovesick puppy eyes. It makes you want to forgive her, even though you know you can't.

“I know… that you don’t love me,” she starts off, voice uneven as tears start to form in her eyes. “And I know…  that you will...” She closes her eyes and pauses for a moment to collect herself, “never… never tell me that you love me. I… haha… I probably messed up, right? Ah… But you know what?” She opens her eyes again. “I think… I think I can live with that. As long as you're mine, I can live with that.”

You watch her reach into her pants pocket and bring out a velvet box. You think it’s another present, another bribe, but instead when she opens it, there are two golden rings nestled together. She takes them, throws the box without a care, places one ring on her left ring finger, and then closes the distance between you two to grab your left hand.

“W-what are you doing?” you screech, clawing at her hand.

“Hold still. This is for the both of us.”

Struggle all you want, she successfully places the ring on your ring finger. She then grabs your other wrist and takes a knee, just like when she first asked you out. She gazes lovingly into your terrified eyes, with all her twisted obsession, and begs,

“Marry me. Please.”

-----🔔-----

[Present day…]

Lyn walks down the street, playing with the golden band on her left ring finger. She smiles gently yet sorrowfully. The moment she walks up the bar, she puts on her serious mask at the sight of someone standing beside her boss’s father.

Ollie’s father, a man of a few words, nods towards Lyn as a greeting. Lyn nods back. “... Mr. Panthera, good evening. Is this–”

“Eris,” Eris responds, holding out his hand. “I’ll be taking over Mr. Panthera once I’ve been training for a week. Nice to finally meet you… Lyn. Heard a lot of great things about you.”

Lyn shakes his hand, somehow feeling something’s off. “... Likewise. You’re Ollie’s friend, correct?”

Eris lets go of Lyn’s hand, a little forcefully. “His best friend, yeah~”

“... Ah.”

Ollie’s father nods with satisfaction. Eris salutes the old man with a smile, and Lyn nods again, before the old man enters the bar to join his son. Lyn takes her position at the door. Eris stands beside her, with his hands behind his back.

Lyn raises an eyebrow. “... You can go home now.”

“Mm… “ Eris sucks in air through his teeth. “Yeah, I know… but I think I’ll stay just a little longer. To observe how you do things. That okay?”

Lyn shrugs. “... Suit yourself.”

Being the bouncer for the current shift, greets the guests as Eris observes. Ollie’s bar, The Cat’s Meow, is quite exclusive to a select few VIPs in the country, thus there is never a lot of activity, but there is always a lot of dough coming in.

An hour into Lyn's shift, when there’s no one around except for the sound of crickets, Eris finally breaks the silence.

“I see you have a ring on your left ring finger. You married?” he asks, stretching his arms above his head.

Lyn takes a deep breath.“... Yes.”

“Ohhh~ How lucky. How long have you been married?”

“... Six years now.”

Eris whistles in amazement. “That's pretty long. Congratulations.”

“... Thank you.”

“You must love your spouse a lot to last six years in marriage, huh?”

“... I do.”

…..

The corner of Eris's mouth twitches. “... You know… You're a pretty dry conversationalist, huh?” Eris comments.

“... So I've heard.”

Eris nods understandably. “Okay… Well! I, too, have a lover waiting for me at home. I took this job so that I can show off my manly side, ya know? Show that I can provide, be a member of society, and not just use up all my inheritance.”

“... Good for you.”

“Mm hm! Mm hm! Hey, since you've been married for so long, could you give me some advice? Like how did you get your lover to marry you? Mine's not so keen on getting married, ya know? They’re kind of a hard nut to crack.”

Lyn pads her ring with her thumb. “... You shouldn't force your lover to marry you… especially if they don't want to.”

“I know right~? So I told my lover that we could elope instead. They aren't really big on labels, ya know? Honestly, I’m pretty okay with anything, really, as long as we're together.”

Lyn remembers you and asks, “... Won't you… start to resent them for… not loving you back the way you want them to… after a while? Won't you go insane thinking they might leave you for someone else?”

“Mmm… Nah. I’m pretty confident in my ability to love them for as long as it takes. I’ve dealt with a lot of bullshit since I was a kid, ya know? My lover… I can wait forever if that’s what they need.”

Lyn lets out a heavy sigh. “... Be careful then. Leave them before you start to hurt them.”

Eris scoffs. “Speaking from experience?”

Lyn flinches. “... No.”

Eris checks her reaction, raising an eyebrow “Huh, that's interesting. Didn't know Ollie hired a psycho for a bouncer.”

Lyn grits her teeth at Eris's audacity. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

…..

“... You got a bone to pick or something?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Lyn blinks multiple times in disbelief. “What do you want?”

Eris sucks in through his teeth, tilting his weight between the balls and heels of his feet. “You own the buildings around the intersection between 7th and 8th, right?”

Lyn doesn't want to question how he knew. “... What's it to you? Are you looking to buy?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Sorry, not for sale.”

“Ehhhh? Why not? Look, I have the money. I can even wire it to you today.”

“No.”

“Was it my comments?  Sorry, was just sizing you up is all.”

“Still no.”

“Oh, c'monnn.”

“No.”

“Tch. You remind me of my lover.”

“... ?”

“Obviously, you could never compare to them. It’s just that I offer money and gifts and they're always like ‘No’.”

“... Good. They know what they want. Stop annoying them,” Lyn advises, exasperated from this conversation.

“Mm, nah. I wouldn't say I annoy them,” Eris says, thoughtfully. “My lover's kind of a tsundere, if I think about it. I give them a hug, they tell me to stop hugging them, I continue to hug them, and then they just give up and let me. I'm pretty sure they enjoy my perseverance.”

Lyn pities whoever has the misfortune of being this guy's lover. “... Wow, good for you.”

“Yeah… so I'm looking to buy from you just one of the apartments on 7th and 8th. My lover lives there and honestly the landlord there is doing such a shit job making sure they're safe. D’ya know how many criminals I've had to take care of every time I visit my lover? My god, where’s all of the trash coming from…?”

Lyn thinks about the crime reports she received about the area around that building lately. It couldn’t possibly be this guy's doing, could it? One small guy… Impossible. Curious, she asks, “...Which one?”

“The red building.”

….

There's no way, right? Lyn thinks.

“... What a coincidence. My… spouse… happens to live in that building too.”

“Really? Wow… small world.”

…..

“So, can I buy it from you?”

“No.”

“Ugh, fine!” Eris sighs. “You know what I think?”

“.....” Lyn looks up at the night sky, hoping he'll go away...

“Hey.”

“.....”

“Lyn?”

“.....”

“LYN!”

“... What?”

Eris smirks. “I think you should give up the ‘married’ shtick. It's kind of lame.”

Lyn’s head whips towards Eris. “... Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” Eris replies with a shrug. “We both know you're not married. You've got the…” Eris gestures to all her with a circular motion with a hand. “The sad puppy who got kicked to the curb look. And I did some research on you before I came here, so I know well for a damn fact you’re not married.”

Lyn shakes her head in disbelief. “... Ah, so that’s how you knew. And you called me a psychopath earlier.”

Eris shrugs. “I like to call it for what it is.”

“... Ah... I guess it's true when they say that it takes one to know one then.”

“Haha," his voice sounds hollow. "Yeah… Anyway, listen, I don't really want anything to do with you, but you're standing in my way.”

Lyn raises an eyebrow. Did she ever give him the impression that she wanted anything to do with him? "... What do you mean?”

Before Eris can answer, Ollie walks up to the bar’s entrance, giggling with the most maniacal grin on his face, like the cat that got the cream. Upon seeing the two, he stops and waves.

“Boss,” Lyn greets with a nod. “Good evening.”

“Ollie!” Eris greets happily before asking, “Why are you outside?”

Ollie can't contain his giddiness as he waves them off. “Ah, don’t mind me. Hehehe. Goodnight, you two. Stay safe when you go home tonight.”

After Ollie's goes inside, Eris prompts Lyn with, “Hey, why do you wear a ring if you're not married?”

Lyn looks at her ring, gleaming from the light of the streetlamp, and takes a deep breath. “... What does it matter to you?”

“Can you just answer the question, lady?”

Lyn sighs and rolls her eyes. If it'll get him to stop with this stupid conversation, she might as well comply.

“Fine. If you really must know, it's because it's a reminder. A reminder of how much I loved them. Loved them so much I wanted to be with them forever and always. Loved them too much until it hurt them. Loved them too much to let them go completely from my heart–”

“Sheesh, I was asking for a simple answer. Not a whole poem,” Eris cuts in. “Don’t you know how to talk to people?”

Lyn has half a mind to throw this man against the wall. “You asked for an answer, and you got one.”

“Sure, but you’re not together anymore, right?”

There is a sharp pang in Lyn's heart. “... Yeah. We aren't… together… anymore. This ring… is all I– huh?”

By the time Lyn had noticed, Eris had already left. Lyn lets out an exhausted sigh. What’s the problem with that guy? Rude.

-----🔔-----

It was a short walk from the bar to the city parking garage, and all the while Eris had his hands in his pants pocket. One of them fingers an item in his pocket, as he analyzes the whole conversation with Lyn.

Once he reaches his car in the city parking garage, he pulls out the item and looks at it, rolling it between his fingers.

A golden ring. Engraved in Latin with the words for “Love you forever and always” on the inside. He looted from your house during one of many nights he stayed over, without your knowledge. It matches the one Lyn is wearing. One half of a couple’s rings.

Eris smiles bitterly. “Now why, oh, why would you keep something like this, huh (Y/n)? When you have me now?”

He looks towards the vast space of the parking garage. No one would be able to find it, or someone might just pick it up and sell it for some quick cash. He makes a fist with the ring in his hand and reels it back.

…..

Only to cancel the moment, from bowing over from a crazy laughter that suddenly erupts from his body. If there were any poor souls nearby, they would have believed something demonic was in the place, or there was an escapee from the nearest insane asylum.

“AUGH! I can't do it. WHY??” Eris shouts, gripping strands of his hair with his empty hand. “You're making me go crazy, (Y/n)! Is this stupid ring… so important to you that you’d keep it after all of these years? You’re not even together anymore, right? THEN WHY? This is… this is such bullshit! WHY CAN’T I JUST THROW IT AWAY!? WHY WHY WHY WHY!?”

With his heart pounding out of control, he takes several deep breaths. He releases his hair and starts rubbing away the heavy tears rolling down his face with his arm.“ Ah… Ahahaha… hic! … I can't… hic! … I can’t help but think… hic! ... that you might still… love… hic! … her… Do I… hic! … even have a chance, (Y/n)?”

….. 

After he takes some to calm down, he sniffs, straightens back up, and looks at the ring again.

“She... said it herself. You're not together anymore, right? And it’s not like you wear this either, so that means you don’t love her all that much anymore, right?” Eris asks the ring as if it is you.

“You’re probably just… holding onto the memories. Yeah… No wonder you're so closed off from me!” Eris begins to smile. “That’s fine. That just means I just need to do more to carve a space in your heart for myself, right? I’m not like her. I would never dream of hurting you. I just need to replace her little by little, right? It's okay, (Y/n). I can wait… Forever and always, ya?”

With that conviction, he pockets the ring, and gets into the car when his phone suddenly starts to vibrate.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Huh. That's weird, he thinks. The only people who have his phone number are Ollie, his family, and well, you. Of course, it probably isn't you since you'd never– HOLY SHIT!

He has never picked up a phone call faster in his life. Excitement flows through his veins like liquid nitrogen. “(Y/n)-”

“You asshole!”

Well… small steps are better than nothing… Eris's smile grows really wide.

YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT! For once, you've called him first! And you felt comfortable calling him on his personal cell after all of this time. HECK YEAH! hat's progress! Ah, it’s so good to hear your phone voice again~ He bets Lyn hasn’t heard your voice in forever. HAH! Fuck you, Lyn! He's (Y/n)’s man now, not her. So much for a fucking ring. HAH!

“Hey! Are you listening to me?” you ask, annoyed.

Eris pouts. “Sorry, was just lost in my thoughts. Love, did you only call me to call me an ‘asshole’? Not that I mind, since I love your voice and all, but that’s really mean, ya know?”

He hears you groan on the other side of the line. “What’s with your voi– No, You wanna know what's mean? Stealing my family portrait. Give it back!”

… Huh? He feels flattered that you thought of him, but your family portrait? The one on your table? Sure, he took your ring… and he does fill your fridge with his home cooking, but typically he leaves everything where it is because it’s your apartment.

“I… Love, I would never touch your family portrait.”

“Well, your friend did! I don’t know who planned it, but tell him to return it immediately! Or I will… I will… Well, just bring it back. Please.”

You hang up.

…..

To Eris, you sounded like you were crying. He calls you.

Briing! Briing! Tch.

“What?” you croak.

Eris can't help but giggle. You picked up his phone call on the first ring~

“I'm going to hang up.”

“W-wait!” Eris clears his throat. “(Y/n), I would never ask anyone to take your family portrait. Could you describe to me what my supposed friend looks like? What happened? Did you call the police?”

“Is…that so… No, I didn’t call the police because he said he was your friend and I thought you were playing a cruel joke on me. He said your name, Eris, so he does know you for sure. He had black hair, with white roots I think? Kind of like a tuxedo cat. Um… green cat-like eyes. Um, doesn't really talk much and stares a lot. But he has the audacity to eat someone's else food and then throw the bowl on the floor without so much of a ‘thank you’! Can you believe it?”

“Ah…” Eris flattens his mouth from spouting his inner thoughts.

GOD. You're so adorable when you ramble. You're really attached to your food, huh? You must really like eating some of his home cooking, since he knows you have nothing else in there. And the way you're describing the perpetrator sounds like you're describing a cat–

There's only one person who that reminds Eris of.

"Do you... need anymore details?"

“I think I know who you’re talking about.” His tone is unnervingly even.

“R-really? Oh, thank goodness. Thank yo– I mean, Good. Please return my family portrait quickly. ASAP. Bye.”

You hang up before he can bid you goodbye. He calls you. You pick up on the first ring again.

“What?”

Hehehe. “Go to sleep soon, okay? I’ll take care of it. Love you~”

"... Okay."

You hang up again. Eris pockets his phone, before resting his head against the steering wheel. His smile turns into a frown as he absorbs and analyzes all of the information he's just received.

After a moment or two, Eris lets out a guttural sigh as gets out of the car. He slams the door shut, locks his car, and starts hurrying back to the bar, grumbling to himself, “One fucking obstacle after another…”

[deuxcherise]

Operation Otterly-In-Love

C/w: Possibly OOC Neuvillette, cooking soup, suggestive behavior, dramatic!Reader, male!Reader

A/n: So… is he an otter or is he a dragon? It has been answered in the game, but as with many, many others, I suspect otherwise! Hehehe. Anyway, I realized I haven’t really written a story with a male!Reader so I decided to for a romance with our favorite Hydro Otter— I mean Hydro Dragon!

Masterlist

Everyone knows that there are many rules in the illustrious region of Fontaine, where wonderful engineering meets sophisticated art. There are some odd ones such as it being illegal to eat ketchup on its own, or that it is forbidden to release anything flying during the first three days of the month. But there is one particular rule, among the normal ones, that almost all prolific families follow, lest they allow any accumulated wealth and property to fall through their fingers… like some unscrupulous members of society unfortunately ailed by gambling or overindulgence of spirits or— may their souls find peace— illegal activities.

When it comes to inheritance, the rule states that the heir shall be the eldest child of the previous title holder.

Quite simple, is it not? And quite modern in some books, seeing as potential female heirs were often looked over for the benefit of a male heir historically, even when said ladies proved more capable than their gender counterparts. Nowadays, all that it requires is that one of  your parents possesses the particular title and that you are the eldest child (and of good health) to inherit it.

In this time and age, there are more and more families who have allowed the tides to turn and accepted this rule as is. However, there are still some who find it better to continue the traditional way. Such as the Vernon Family, whose older members have firmly stated that they would rather die than bypass a proper male heir.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. If it were possible, you’d rather let your sister inherit the Vernon Viscountcy. Except that you are not only the eldest child of the eldest child but the only son of the Vernons, among cousins who are all daughters, thus you fit all of the qualifications to inherit everything. And so will your first son, should you ever consider settling down and finding a decent wife to make pregnant, as your parents constantly feel the need to remind you ever since you turned the adult age of 21.

Luckily for your despairing mama and papa, after much, much, much consideration for a handful of years, you have decided that now is that time.

You give an elegant twirl before you hold your hand out and dramatically declare, “Marry me, Neuvillette.”

It is less of a question, and more a command… or a suggestion if you’d like to put in gentler terms. However, you are confidently assured that he would say—

“No,” Neuvillette objects. Your sudden proposal did nothing to sway his attention from the ever growing stacks of paperwork on his desk he has yet to tackle, thanks to Furina. He didn’t so much as look up at all, much to your slight disappointment.

Quite understandable, really. Who in their sane mind would say yes to a sudden proposal when you haven’t courted each other yet? Even you would answer the same, though not as coldly as he did, especially to someone he’s known for a while. That being said, all part of the plan.

You place your hand over your heart and act as if he had shot you in the chest. “Augh, you wound me, Neuvi… But I understand, which is why I have come here to propose that we–”

“No.”

Cut off, you take a moment to process. “No? I haven’t even asked the question yet,” you pout.

Neuvillette puts down his pen and pinches his nose bridge, letting out a heavy sigh that weighs on you more than expected. He finally makes eye contact with you, his dark blue slit eyes daring you to annoy him further than you already have. “(Y/n), as much as I entertain many of your jokes, I do not believe courting and marriage are topics one should play around with.”

You gasp, offended. “Pardon? I should have you know that I am being very serious. More serious than I have ever been in my life, in fact. I am asking to court you. I. (Y/n) Vernon. Want. To. Court. You. Neuvillette. I'm serious.”

You almost grin once you see a certain light enter his widening eyes, a signal of understanding. However, it suddenly goes away just as quickly as it had arrived, before he exhales a tired sigh and picks up his pen again. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, returning to concentrating and scribbling on his current paper. “I apologize if I have ever possibly led you to believe that I am interested in any sort of courting with anyone. I do not ever wish to court you or be courted by you.”

It is one thing for your intended person to forsake romance of any sort, but to add words specifically mentioning that he would never be interested in you… Well, it certainly makes your heart bleed a bit.

Oh ho, but not nearly enough to dissuade someone like you!

Although pained, your face doesn’t fail to turn that melting frown right side up, a new determination traveling through your veins. If he is not interested in courting you or being courted by you, then isn’t this simply a challenge you must face in order to win his heart? All good romances have to start somewhere, yours will just have to start from zero.

Your silence piques Nevillette’s attention once more, prompting him to look up and take notice of your expression. He has witnessed that mischievous smile and those glittering eyes before whenever a fresh new idea pops into your head. The kind that tends to cause chaos.

He begrudgingly stands up from his chair intending to prepare for whatever your head has concocted, when he is stunned at a thrown white glove to his face. You place your hands on your hips and declare with a pointed finger, “Neuvillette, I will capture your heart one way or another! Prepare yourself, good sir!”

And so begins, Operation Otterly-in-Love.

The target: Neuvillette. The challenger: You.

-----🦦-----

The setting? A picnic table by one of Fontaine's many beautiful lakes under the shade of a large tree.

The objective? Culinary seduction.

Anyone who is anyone in Fontaine knows the stoic and righteous Neuvillette as the Chief Justice, the Iudex of Fontaine, and a man of unknown origins. With how long he has held the position throughout generations, if not a god or divine being then he was most definitely blessed by divinity at some point.

You, among a select few others, are fortunate enough to be privy to the fact that the subject of your heart is none other than the blue-haired, stone-faced judge. Despite that truth, you cannot help but have a strong belief that he is something else entirely. The edges of your lips instantly curl upward at the sight of those lovely, fluffy creatures swimming about in the sparkling waters of Fontaine.

Otters.

Their blue coats and their darker blue markings, their love for water, and cuteness are extremely reminiscent of your Neuvillette. In your humble opinion, of course, which he does not share.

Speaking of which, the subject in question exhales audibly, miffed at your distracted form. “(Y/n), I believe you said that there was something in dire need of my attention?”

“Dire” is certainly a polite description that severely downplayed how thickly you had laid upon the supposed details of a possible disaster should he not allow you the opportunity to drag the hard worker away from his work and out of his stuffy office.

You direct your brilliant smile towards him and place your hand on top of the cloche’s handle, and lift it up to reveal one of your lover-to-be’s favorite dishes in a simple yet very elegant bowl: Soup. 

Not just any plain old soup, mind you! It is a painstakingly and lovingly homemade Consomme Purete, made with only the finest fowls, eggs, and vegetables in only the purest, chilliest waters from the highest mountains that you could get your hands on.

The method by which you somehow acquired these ingredients, well… you have already sent many prayers towards a dear friend of yours who at the moment might be busy occupying the capable hands of a certain Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. You'll have to find a suitable gift worth a million thanks for the noble sacrifice.

“Consomme Purete,” you cheekily introduce the dish as you place the cloche to the side and rest your elbows on the table, your chin on top of intertwined fingers. “A fine day to have it, don't you think?”

His narrow eyes widen just a tad at the sight of the soup. He hasn't eaten yet, and his stomach is already taken by a whiff of the savory scent. The dew of the soup reflects the gentle sun shining in the sky accompanied by a few fluffy clouds. A fine day indeed.

“And whatever is the occasion for your efforts? You know that I do not accept bribes,” he says, elegantly taking a spoonful of soup but not yet a taste.

You bat your eyes. “Should I need any occasion to feed you, my dear?”

He lowers the spoon. “If you are still going on about your ridiculous proposal, I should have you know, once again, that is a meaningless endeavor.”

You hold back a click of your tongue. “Again with that…” you wave a hand. “Well, at least have a taste. I put in my blood, sweat, and tears just to make this.”

He raises an eyebrow.

Your eyes bug out at his silent implication. “Not literally! That's gross!”

“If you say so,” he says, but still decides to take a sip.

“How is it~?”

You watch intensively as the spoonful of soup disappears behind those lips of his. The lack of wrinkles on his face seems to indicate acceptance. You spy the tip of tongue peek out for just a split second to lick whatever glistening essence hadn't made it into his mouth. This tiny seductive display sends sends a bit of blood down to your—

“It is… adequate.”

Instead of heading downwards, your blood shoots upwards. “WHAT?? Adequate!?” You shriek. You place a hand over your heart and the back of your other hand on your forehead. “Neuvillette, please. I'll allow you to step on my heart, but do not jest when it comes to my cooking.”

“Unfortunately, you and I both know I do not jest when it comes to a dish like this. I applaud you for your efforts, but you may have over-steeped the vegetables a little too long for this to be called Consomme Purete.”

Your jaw drops.

You knew it! You turned your back on the stove a little too long when you were arguing with your parents. Stupid, stupid, stupid. To think you had presented this special dish to your love interest with such confidence! Augh, you wish you could go die in a hole right now.

Plan - Culinary seduction: Failure.

Will you give up?

…..

HA! FAT CHANCE! COMMENCE THE NEXT OPERATION!

-----🦦-----

[Extra]

You give out a disheartened sigh and reach towards the dish. “In that case, allow me to clear–”

Neuvillette blocks you from reaching his bowl with his arm. “I didn't say I was done, did I?”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Huh? But– Oi!”

The Iudex lifts the bowl and gulps it down in one sitting before delicately placing the bowl down and wiping the corners of his lips with a napkin with as much sophistication as a gentleman could muster. He then gets up and leaves the table with only a simple, “thank you for the meal”.

You sit there, dumbfounded as you watch him head back towards his office.

Plan - Culinary seduction: Failure Success…?

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Red Letter

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, Eris being Eris, gender neutral reader, reader has more personality in this one, comfort, fluff, angst (?), mentions violent action (such as plucking out eyes), flashback scene, may include annoying use of "my" a lot, includes a picture of a simple sponge cake (because why not? You'll see~) A/n: So I happened to come across those Chad skits from SNL (yeah, I know I'm late to the party) and I was also thinking of how Eris met the reader. So this is kind of a prequel to Weasel In, I guess? I highly suggest reading Part 1 before this, but do as you like. Enjoy~ Masterlist | Part 0 (you're here!), Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2)

There were many times in your life when you had almost regretted taking on this 9-to-5 customer service job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?” 

Huh... Hah... Huh... Hah...

Accompanied by some strange heavy breathing, you hear a growling male voice say, “Are you home alone–”

You immediately hang up.

No, you definitely regret taking this job, but unfortunately it pays too well for you to just up and quit. As a result, it's been a good five years since you started, and you've gotten quite good at your job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?” 

It has been a while since you've questioned your work name, but you have long since accepted it. Your company, Fruity Friends, was created by some closeted man (he has long since went public with his sexuality and is married to his highschool sweetheart. Good for him!)

He felt that people needed someone, a stranger, who they could talk to without the fear of being outed for anything. A noble endeavor, no doubt, but you believe he might've failed to account for the most… unscrupulous individuals who should be going into proper therapy instead of taking advantage of a nice-sounding voice.

Then again, being an anonymous voice on the other side of the line was far better than your last job, where you had to wait tables for the mafioso in a very, very scandalously short waitress outfit. You were quite popular because of your unintentional moe gap where you would say some of the cringiest lines in history in a cutesy voice while wearing the stiffest expression. You couldn't help how blank your face tends to be. 

You were glad that everyone else, including Remy, the most buffest chef you have ever met who worked there, were forced to share the same outfit, but you were sure that sooner or later you'd be kidnapped by one of those criminals if you continued to work there.

…..

Of course, it wasn't easy. This was the mafia after all. It could be debated whether or not you were a good person, but you had successfully manipulated one of those dogs into letting you leave scot-free. The particular tactic you used? Uh… yeah, that's another story.

“A-ah… um… h-hi there… I'm… Eris… um…”

Some of your clientele have been nervous wrecks, so you have quite a few scripted lines to choose from. This one chose the most basic package, but you always bring your best.

“Hello Eris~ What a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you! How are you?”

You hear him mumbling to himself on the line before he comes back. “Um… is this… really confidential?”

Ah… you hope this isn't one of those perverted bastards like the one earlier. This one sounds too cute, it would be such a shame…

“Why yes, of course, my dear Eris! Everything you say here is completely safe with me. And if you don't believe me, then believe in the contract that had brought us together. There is nothing you say that can be taken as evidence! Rest assured, you are safe here with me, here at Fruity Friends.”

You hear him gasp. “O-oh…okay… Um… I-I'm… your dear Eris?”

Aww, how cute! You hope this customer becomes one of your loyal clientele. Still keeping up your cutesy persona, you answer, “Why yes. And I am your Lychee~”

“O-oh… M'kay… my Lychee…”

From then on, Eris would call for you every single day for months, except for the weekends. Calls could only last about an hour, as per the package deal, since that was the company policy to accommodate multiple customers per day–unless they were willing to pay multiple times. 

On the following Mondays, he'd call in to check up on you and pout about how much he missed you and wished you could talk to you all day every day. And you, in your persona, would reply that you wished you could talk to him all day too. 

Lychee is a cute person, someone who likes to hang out with their friends, who likes to party all day and all night, who likes to share the most scandalous gossip from their supposed life. Lychee is someone who wants everyone to like them, always doing their best to fix their reputation should they ever mess up.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about all of that. Who has time to party and hang out with friends and share other people's business when you have no safety net to fall back on if you were ever to go jobless? Forget about reputation, you were already used to people making assumptions based on your appearance.

That being said, you quite enjoyed your conversations with Eris once he became more comfortable. Most of your topics ranged from philosophical takes such as:

“Which is better to eat first first? Steak or salad?”

“Depeeeends! I heard Americans usually eat salads before steaks and the French eat steak before salad. So it's up to you, really, ya know?”

“I see! … Hey, do you think graham crackers are cookies or crackers? I think they are crackers, but what does my Lychee think?”

To things that happened to him recently:

“LyCheeEeeEe!” he whines on the other side of the phone, voice clearly indicating he's been crying. “My LycheEee.”

You play along. “WhaAaaAt, my dear ErIsssSss?”

“T-there…” he sniffs. “There was-was this guy…”

“Awww, noo! What did this mean guy do, my dear Eris? Tell your Lychee.”

Once a week, Eris would encounter some mean dude who'd insult him and then he'd come to you for comfort. How he always ends up in such situations is beyond you.

And he's always… always does something about it a week later.

“My LycheEeeE.”

“YeeSsss, my dear Erisss?

“You know that one guy… you know the one I told you last week who I keep meeting in the subway, the one who kept saying I keep looking at him funny and keeps shoving me?”

“Yeaaaah?”

“I finally ripped his eyeballs out! So he can't tell who's looking at him wrong or right anymore! Isn't that great??”

Due to the confidentiality clause, unfortunately, whatever a customer says is not liable to use as evidence. Even if it means letting a serial killer loose.

“That's greeaaaat! You feel better now, don't you, my dear Eris?”

“I do, I do! Hehe~”

Such a troubling life… You'd never admit this to anyone but sometimes… listening to him makes you feel better about your uneventful life, only having to worry about keeping your job, keeping a roof over your head, and keeping your belly full.

Besides, what's there to worry about? Your identity is unknown and your persona is too friendly to get on anyone's nerve.

“LYchEeeeE! My LyCheeEee.”

“YeeEeesss, my dear Eris? What's wrong? Tell your Lychee.”

You listen to him bawl his eyes, cooing and offer your sympathies, like a mother to a child.

“M-my best friend… he said…  he said… 

Oh, his best friend. Eris has never revealed his friend's name, but based on the description he gives you, sometimes you wonder why someone sweet and innocent like Eris was friends with someone like that.

“Aww, no! Was he being a meanie again? What did he say?”

“He said… that I should get a life and stop talking to you.”

You feel your heart drop. “R-really? He said that?”

Ah… well. It isn't the first time a customer has left you, or rather left Lychee. Lychee’s job was to help people get through difficult times, but in the end, Lychee wasn't a real person. Lychee couldn't leave their job to hang out with friends. Lychee couldn't attend parties and weddings. Lychee couldn't fall in love. Lychee was just a faceless voice who only spoke once you paid the price, and even then only for an hour or two out of the entire day.

That being said, it wasn't like it didn't hurt when your customers got on with their lives. It was just… inevitable, and you had long since accepted that. Perhaps, this was a sign that it was time for Lychee's Eris to move on. He's spent over thousands of dollars just to speak to you over several hours per day over a span of four months already, single handedly paying your entire rent. As a fellow human who has to work their ass off in order to live, you can't bear to become the reason he goes broke.

“Yeah… but I don't want to! I love talking to you, my Lychee! And you love talking to me too, right? So I don't see why he’s telling me to have a life. I am living! Ugh, stupid…”

You mull over all kinds of lines but in the end, you whisper, “... Maybe, he's right.”

….. 

“What?”

“Listen, Eris-”

“Your Eris. I'm your dear Eris, my Lychee.”

His voice sounds sharp and metallic… you've ‘slipped’ up a few times, and he'd always softly correct you with his usual whiny voice. Not like this.

You cough, getting back into character. “Yesss, you’re absolutely right! My dear Eris. Sorry~ LiSteeEeen. As much as I love talking to you, I think that you're spending way too much money on me! I feel flattered and all, but you're going to go bankrupt at some point!”

Silence on the phone… until you hear him laugh loudly like you had just told him the funniest joke ever. Moments later you hear him again. “Aha… ah… Is that what you were worried about, my Lychee? Aww, you're the best~ That's why I… But don't worRrrRry~ As the eldest son in my family, I inherited everything after my parents died. Enough to last me years to the point I don’t even need to work. Money isn't an issue at all, my Lychee.”

You feel a sharp pang in your chest. “Bas-” You clear your throat, the curse word almost slipped from under your persona. “Bestieee, even if money isn't the issue, your mental health must be taking a toll. Besides your best friend and of course me, your Lychee, do you talk to anyone else?”

“... Why should I? I only need you, don't I? Also, I'm not your ‘bestieee’, I'm your Eris.”

“R-Right, my dear Eris~ I'm just saying. One day you'll want to… you know? Hug someone, hold hands, kiss, or even just… be next to someone. In person. We both know, I can’t do that for you. Don't you want a more… authentic relationship or friendship with someone? Besides your best friend. Besides me.”

A pause. “... Is this part of your character?”

You blink. “What do you mean, my dear Eris? What character?”

“... Huh… Come to think of it… I’ve never thought about it before, but is Lychee’s not your real name, right?”

“Ehhh? But it is! I wouldn't lie to you, my dear Eris.”

Another pause. “… This line is confidential, right?”

“Mmhm! Always have been!”

“Then what’s your real name?”

You pause, your eyebrows scrunched together as you hold the phone against your ear. “I… My dear Eris, I told you. It’s Lychee. Your Lychee!”

You hear him sigh, before he suddenly hangs up. You look at your phone, very confused and worried. He has never hung up on you before. Did he just… leave?

After several weeks, you figure he did just leave. Fortunately, there are always new callers on the line along with some really loyal customers who've been patiently waiting for you to pay them some attention. Still, it bothered you… but at the same time, it relieved you. He must be finally living his life now instead of spending it all on you.

It’s a shame though… He was such a charming fellow, so open with his emotions and sweet with his words. It just wasn’t the same with your other customers, which the number of clientele were going for some reason…

You finished your 9-5 job, dragged yourself out of the office to the bus stop, waited for the bus, got on the bus, waited until your stop, got off your stop, dragged yourself home, entered your home, locked your door, and collapsed on your couch, still in your work uniform. Same as usual. Why your company felt it was necessary to have a uniform when your job only requires your voice is beyond you.

You close your eyes and let yourself be whisked away to dreamland… 

…..

…..

…..

Shick shick shick shick!

You wake up at 3AM, according to a glance at your clock, to the odd sound of… whisking? You slowly sit up, get off the couch, walk to the source of the noise, and find a handsome man wearing your apron, standing in the kitchen and whisking away at some white fluff in a bowl.

You rub your eyes. What the heck are you looking at?

The man stops whisking open looking at you. He smiles bashfully. “My Lychee-”

WOW! Has it really happened? You’ve finally reached the point you’ve overworking your mind and body to exhaustion! And now you’re either hallucinating things at 3AM or you’re in the middle of a nightmare! There’s only one person in the world who calls you that and there is no way in hell Eris would be in your kitchen at 3AM, covered in flour, and smiling at you like this is all normal! WOW!

You slap your cheeks with both hands. Hard.

Eris gasps, dropping the bowl of whipped cream on the counter. He grabs onto your hands and inspects your face with a worried expression. “Lychee! Are you okay? Why did you slap yourself?”

His hands feel oddly very real and your cheeks oddly hurt really bad… but there's absolutely no way Eris is actually in your home, right? Why aren’t you waking up?

“Lych–No, I should say (Y/n), right? I would call you my (Y/n), but you're already mine, so–”

Oh heck no.

You take your hands back and head out of the kitchen, take out your phone from your pocket, and quickly tap on the screen.

Briiing. Briiing. Tch!

“Local Police Department, how may we–”

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand. Eris looks at the phone before he hangs it up and throws it out of reach. He moves so quickly you don't have time to react once he's wrapped you in his arms. He places his head on your shoulder, his lips tickling your neck. “(Y/n)... Don’t do that. I missed you… so much… ”

You could only stand there, hands awkwardly hanging there at your sides, trying to absorb the bizarreness of this situation. “W-why are you here? How’d you get in?”

“Never mind that, your dear Eris is here now.”

You take deep breaths. “Eris…”

“That's me~ I'm your Eris~”

“Right… Uh, could you… let me go?”

“I don’t wannaaaa.”

You clear your throat, collecting yourself. “Okay, fine. Listen. I think… I get why you’re here. It’s because you like Lychee, right? Well, sorry, but the bad news is I'm not anything like Lychee. Lychee is just a character.”

“I know.”

“Okay… so that means you don’t know me!”

“Okay.”

“Wha– What part of ‘you don’t know me’ don’t you understand? We’re strangers! You have no reason to be here.”

“Mm, sure.”

“What?” You give a heavy sigh.

“It’s not like you’re a complete stranger to me,” he starts off. “You're (Y/n). You like (favorite animal), (favorite fruit), (favorite TV show), (favorite dish), (favorite pos–)”

You begin to sweat as you listen to him list of all of your favorite items, before moving on places you’ve ordered food from, to private details, such as your age, your highschool, your address, your family home address, even your Social Security number–Who the heck is this man and how did he find these things out?

“–and that’s all I have so far. What do you think, (Y/n)?”

“Get. Out!”

“Nooooooooo!”

He squeezes you harder, to emphasize the point that he’s not going anymore. You try to twist and turn your way out, but you find his grasp to be extremely difficult to get out of, despite how gentle he’s being with you.

“(Y/n)... You know…” he mumbles, making you still. “For the last few days, I finally realized what you meant the last time we talked. It’s true. One day, I will want to be with someone. In person. Hold hands with them. Hug them. Kiss them…”

He leans into your ear and whispers. “But I have also realized that I would only want that… with you. Only you. I love you, (Y/n).”

…..

“I’m… sorry. I don’t…”

 “Oh, that’s okay!” He releases you and steps back, interlocking his fingers with yours instead. A blush appears across his cheeks as he bashfully looks at you with his head tilted down shyly. “We can start over. Today can be our Day 1?”

His fingers have incredible strength, you unable to escape their gentle grip. “What? Day 1 of what?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” he says, softly swinging your hands side to side. “Day 1. Dating.”

…..

“Who says we’re dating?” you screech, wanting so badly to rip your hands away from this deranged man.

“Eh?? What do you… Ohhh! I haven't asked you properly yet, huh? Sorry, love. Will you date me?”

“No, we've just met.”

“Oh.” You can see the cogs turning in his head, before he tilts his head and giggles. “But that’s exactly why we should date. People date to get to know each other more. Silly, (Y/n). But if you need further convincing: as you can see I’m handsome, and I have money! Lots of it! You’ll never have to work a day in your life. I’ll be the best boyfriend for you.”

Tempting as that sounds, the idea of placing your life into the hands of someone else just like that? Hah! No thanks. “No.”

The cogs are turning again before he reaches another answer in his head. “Ohhh, I get it! I'm so dumb! It took me so long to realize… You haven’t realized you love me too, right? That's okay. I can wait. Hehe~”

You stare at him incredulously, speechless. What the he-

Ding!

“Oh!” He drags you back into the kitchen before letting your hands go to don your oven mitts and take out a freshly baked cake to flip it over a rack. “Ta da~! Mmm, sorry. I was hoping to decorate it before you woke up but… well, who needs frosting anyway, right?”

“What… Why?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Eh? Did you forget? Oh, love. It’s your birthday today. Happy birthday, (Y/n)!”

-----

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday, dear (Y/n)~ Happy birthday to you~ Now, make a wish!”

You closed your eyes, made your wish, and then blew all the candles out in one go, ensuring your wish would come true as it always does every year.

You received two presents to open. One from your Mom and one from your Dad. That’s how it always was on your birthday, or your Mom or Dad's birthdays. Just the three of you. No one else. Even now in your teens, your birthday party had only three members and that was all you wanted.

The day after your birthday, they went grocery shopping.

It was a normal day. They let you sleep in, since it was a Saturday.

You had woken up to heavy knocking on the door. The police? They came bearing heavy news.

There was a drunk driver on the road.

Your birthday was the last time you ever saw them.

Your wish didn't come true. It didn’t the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after that. It would never, ever come true ever again…

-----

“(Y-Y/n)? Do you not like it? I’m s-sorry…”

Your vision turns blurry as memories flood into your mind. Your eyes fill with hot tears to the point it flows down your cheeks. Your face twists in agony as you try to stop the dam from breaking in front of a stranger but your knees give out instead.

Eris catches you and you both slowly sink to the ground. He holds your head gently against his shoulder, letting you cry out years worth of contained sorrows and to your heart's content as he pats you on the head, cooing at you and offering you words of comfort. He doesn’t understand, but at least you aren’t pushing him away.

Once you've run out of tears to cry, you whisper with a broken voice, “Thank… you… for the cake.”

“Anytime, my love, anytime.”

“... I'm not your love.”

“Shh, shh… Take it easy… I'm here for you…”

“Idiot… Just leave me alone…”

“M’kay.”

…..

“I said leave me alone. Why are you still here?”

“Mm… because I don't think you want me to leave you alone right now.”

"I..." You sigh, giving up completely.

…..

Grumble...

“(Y/n), before I go, would you like to eat some cake?”

“... No thanks.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I also got a present for you too.”

“Don't want it.”

“Can't return it, I'm afraid,” he sighs dramatically. “It costed so much too…”

“... Fine. I'll take your stupid gift and eat your stupid cake.”

“Yay~”

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: All Bark, No Bite (1/2)

C/w: Unhealthy behavior (?) | Yandere | Female OC | Gender Neutral Reader | Reader is a bit of a… gold digger here (pun intended lol) | Comfort (?) | Fluff (?) | Slight Angst (near the end)| Swearing | Includes a cute pic of a Golden Retriever x German Shepherd mix dog for reference

A/n: So a long time ago, before reader met Eris, reader met a certain dog~ Hint, hint: she was mentioned in the last chapter (can I call it a chapter? It was in part 2). It’s not the bartender, by the way. So this is going to be a two parter because it got too long. Huh… Is it just me or are these getting longer and longer? Even the animal is getting bigger lol. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2) (you’re here!), Part 3 (2/2)

[Seven years ago…]

“Hiiiii~ Welcome to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guest. We’re so happy-happy to see you~”

“Oh, what do we have here? I heard a lot of great things about you. Come give Papa a big ol’ smile, why don’t cha?”

You keep your ever present resting blank face on, place your index fingers together in front of your mouth and drag them apart in an upward curve. You throw in a tilt of your head, as a bonus.

He throws his head back in ecstasy. “AHHH! So it’s true what they say. I feel so refreshed. Papa’s got an appetite for some sandwiches… unless you’re on the menu today?”

“Oh my~ You flatter me~ But unfortunately, nooooo sir~” you say with a high-pitched cutesy voice that heavily contrasts your stiff-robot face, fanning yourself for show.

You’ve always hated these kinds of customers– actually you really hated this job in general. Not only were you forced to wear a ridiculously, scandalously short pink waitress dress uniform regardless of your gender, but you had to listen to yourself talk with an ear-gratingly high-pitched tone because that’s what sells the performance here.

It’s not like you can just leave, as much as you wanted to. Where else would they pay you enough to make rent? Besides, with who runs this cafe, do you think you’d be able to leave scot-free? No.

Ah… if only someone with a lot of money could just… sweep you off your feet. Someone kind. Someone considerate. Someone polite.

Pff. Like that’s ever going to happen.

You take his usual order on your paper notepad. As you leave, you feel something heavy slap against your behind, the action sending a jolt through the rest of your body. You glance behind you and see him don a sleazy smirk, which further adds to your disgust and increasing resentment for this place and this man, as you pick up the pace to hand over the order to the chef. You slam the paper down onto the counter with a little more force than expected, warranting Remy’s attention.

“Which table?” he nonchalantly asks, cracking a couple of eggs onto the pan.

Somehow, despite wearing the same outfit as you, he maintains an extremely powerful look with his exposed bulging muscles and trimmed beard held by his hairnet. You envy the man.

“Table 13,” you grumble.

“Special sauce?”

“Special sauce.”

“Got it.”

The bell rings and in comes a trio of brothers in fancy suits, three of your most loyal customers, along with an unfamiliar face. Upon their request, the hostess leads them to a table in your section. You grab four menus before walking over and greeting them as usual.

“Hiiiii~ Welcome back to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guests. We’re so happy-happy to see you~” you say, with your iconic blank face.

The three men roar with delight. The lady with them, wearing the same kind of suit, simply pinches and pulls at her sleeve as she keeps her face downcast. One of the brothers turns to the lady with them while pointing at you. “Hey, Sis. Whatcha think of (Y/n), huh? That straight face and cute voice– combo’s real nice, ain’t it?”

“O-oh… um…” The woman makes eye contact with you for a split second before she looks away, a blush appearing on her face. She nods animatedly, releasing another roar from the men, much to your confusion.

“Oh right! (Y/n). You already know the three of us: Dante, Vergil and Nero. This,” Dante says, placing an arm around the lady’s shoulders, “is our baby sister, Lyn. She may look shy right now, but put a weapon in her hand and–” He whistles before chuckling.

“Ah. Happy-happy to have you, Lyn~” you say, cutely wiggling your fingers.

“... T-thank you… (Y/n).”

“Good girl,” one of the brothers sitting across pats her on the head. She reminds you of a golden retriever, with her blond hair and gentle, round eyes.

“Yay~ Now, what will it be today~?” you ask, clicking your pen.

They order some sandwiches and some drinks. You place the order in exchange for picking up the order for that sleazy customer who calls himself Papa. You and Remy exchange knowing looks before you deliver the food.

“Oooh. This looks delicious. Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, before your arm is grabbed by a meaty hand. You turn your head around to see the man grinning at you maliciously. 

“Now, wait a gosh darn second. I heard that this establishment offers a… special service. Now… you aren’t holding off on me, are ya?”

You rip your arm out of his grasp, used to being grabbed by unscrupulous individuals like this man. You answer, “Oh~ The special service~ Sorry, hon~ That’s a privilege only reserved for customers who have dined here more than ten times~ Since you’ve come here once, that means you’ll have to come back nine more times.”

The special service in question refers to asking any server to sing the cafe’s jingle and perform a cutesy dance for the customer asking. Everyone who works here must learn this song and dance before they can be placed on the floor. Each server adds their own twist to it, of course, thus providing a unique experience.

The man slams a fist on the table and stands up, his face red with anger. “WHAT? I CANCELLED AN IMPORTANT MEETING FOR THIS. NOW IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME THE SPECIAL SERVICE, I AM GOING TO–”

Click!

Both your heads turn to the side to discover Lyn pointing a loaded revolver with one hand just a feet away, aimed directly for the man’s skull. Her eyes are sharp and narrowed, unlike the gentle, round ones you were introduced to earlier.

She raises her eyebrows. “Is there a problem here, sir?”

“D-do… do you know who you’re pointing that gun at, lady?” the man stutters, sweating beading up on his forehead.

Lyn shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“O-of course it does! Shoot me and you’ll have the West Razors going after you and your entire family.”

She raises an eyebrow. “... Never heard of them before.”

“What? Who are you then, huh bitch? Some don’s lady?”

She scoffs to the side. Her eyes widen, pupils contracting, as she cocked her head with a smirk. “Lyn Aurem-Diavolus. Of the May Devils.”

The man gasps and immediately lowers his knees, Lyn’s gun following. The man clasps his hands together in a prayer as he begs for his life. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know! Please forgive me! I didn’t know this server was your lover!”

…Who? Is what now?

Lyn’s eyes soften back to their round shape, her face darkening to a red hue as she stutters, “E-eh?”

“That’s right!” Dante pipes up with a smirk, coming behind Lyn, followed by the other two brothers. “Mess with (Y/n) again, and we’ll send you straight down to hell, capisce?” He gives the man a thumbs down with a frown. “Now scram.”who want to get on the bad side of the May Devils. The less competition, the better anyway.

Lyn replaces the safety lock before she puts it back into a hidden holster. She bashfully asks you, “Are you okay… (Y/n)?”

You nod and give a thumbs up. “Yeah. Thank you, Lyn~”

“N-no, well I mean yes, that too. But what I meant was–”

“Ooh, free sandwiches,” says Dante. “Don’t mind if I do–”

You throw a hand out. “No, wait!”

-----🔔-----

Ever since the brothers introduced you to Lyn, she has been visiting the cafe every day you’re scheduled to work for months now. Sometimes she comes with the brothers, sometimes by herself if they’re too busy dealing with… probably mafia stuff.

“Hiiiii~ Welcome to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guest. We’re so happy-happy to see you~”

“H-hi… (Y/n).”

At this point, there is no need to provide her with a menu anymore. She always orders a peanut butter milkshake and a plate of chocolate cake. Somehow, aside from the extreme sweet tooth she possesses, you always feel weird about giving her the chocolate cake. She’s definitely human but… she really does remind you of a very shy golden retriever… with perhaps a German shepherd side to her.

“Okay~ Here is your milkshake and your cake. Will there be anything else you’d like today, Lyn-Lyn~?”

You expect her to say no as per usual, but this time it seems she has something on her mind. Based on the way her face has turned red and her eyes look like they’re panicking.

“O-oh! U-um… (Y/n)?”

“Yes, Lyn-Lyn?”

“Do you… what time do you get off work? D-do you have time after work?”

That catches you off guard. “Why~?”

“UH… UM… I… I-I have something… to tell you! Come meet me behind the cafe.”

“Oh… kay. Okay~” you answer.

-----🔔-----

“Alright. Good job, everyone! Have a safe trip going home!”

“Yeah!” “Thank you! “Yes!” “Uh-huh.” “See ya!”

The day has ended and all of the customers have left. Your boss leaves first, but you and your coworkers stick around and begin making conversation.

“Oooh, you gonna go meet lover girl in the back, (Y/n)?”

You roll your eyes at a coworker’s words. “Ha ha. Real funny.”

“What does she wanna talk about anyway?”

You shrug, closing your locker. “Beats me.”

“Ooh, do you think she’s going to confess?”

You scoff. “No. Where’d you get that idea from?”

Your coworkers exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

Ever since that day when the don of the West Sharpies or something assumed you were Lyn’s lover, your coworkers have never let you live it down, especially with Lyn’s daily visits. She is… kind, considerate, polite, and she was pretty hot when she defended you back then. However! You do not have such a relationship with her, nor any kind of feelings like that.

You’re the last one to leave, the only one to leave through the back door to meet with Lyn. You see her leaning against the wall, dressed in her suit as always. The moment she spots you, she blushes again. She has never seen you in civilian clothes before, but you look so… beautiful. More so without the pink outfit.

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” you ask in your regular voice, out of character. Your face is still stiff though.

“O-oh, not at all, not at all. Um, here.”

She manifests a flower bouquet from behind for you. You take the bouquet, entranced by the largeness of it and how beautiful the colorful flowers look in the alleyway’s streetlight. When your eyes finally break away from the flowers, you find Lyn kneeling down on one knee and looking up at you with a very serious expression.

“Lyn?”

”(Y/n). Over these past several months,” she starts off, “I have been trying to figure out my feelings. I’ve thought about it over and over, tries to rationalize it as… as just infatuation, but… I know what’s in my heart. And I’ve finally come to a conclusion. Ever since I first met you, you have… captured my heart. I am in love with you, (Y/n).”

…..

You stare at her with wide eyes. “Huh?”

She clears her throat and starts glancing between you and the surroundings, embarrassed. “I-I know you may not feel the same. My brothers… and everyone else have told me already. And it’s not like I’ve really done anything to win your affection…” She mumbles something in between before continuing. “But if you give me the chance, I can show you what I’m capable of. As your potential girlfriend.”

She holds out a hand to you. “Will you… go out with me?”

“I…”

Do you want to try going out on a date with one of the May Devils, the youngest one too? You didn’t have any prior romantic feelings for the girl, which makes you feel bad. What if you never develop any feelings for her? What if she stops showing up to the cafe? What if you accidentally do something that triggers the entire famiglia after you?

In the midst of your thoughts, something dark emerges from you. A devil. It sits on your shoulder and whispers into your ear, “What if this is your chance to get out of here? She has money. You need money. It’s a match made in… well, ya know?”

…..

You smile, an expression Lyn hasn’t seen before but is entranced by, as you place your hand onto hers.

“I would love to.”

-----🔔-----

You hadn't expected to enjoy going out on dates with her, but you were sure glad that you said yes.

“(Y/n)! Look what I got for you!” Lyn excitedly says, holding a neatly wrapped box for you over your shoulder.

“Another one?” you chuckle, accepting the gift as she hugs you from behind and nuzzles the back of your neck. “Designer clothes. Designer bags. Luxuries cars. Lyn-Lyn, you're spoiling me too much. You're going to go bankrupt!”

She shakes her head, her hair tickles the back of your neck. “Mm mm mm mm. You're not being spoiled! You're being pampered! By me. Your loving, romantic girlfriend. Who regards you dearly very, very much! Forget about the money. Just let me enjoy spending it on you.”

You giggle and place a hand on her cheek, turning your head so you can share a kiss with her. Of course, Lyn starts planting lots of kisses on your face afterwards, like the lovely puppy she is.

You both fall into bed, full of laughter and joy until you both settle down to cuddle with each other. With your fingers interlocked with hers, Lyn gazes into yours with so much adoration, it makes you shy. You turn away and hide your face against the pillow.

“(Y/n), look at me,” she whispers.

You refuse, for a moment, but you make eye contact. You both gaze into each other's eyes, lovingly, until Lyn breaks the silence.

“I love you, (Y/n).

It makes you freeze, hearing those three words fall from her mouth for the first time in your relationship.

What shocks you more is that…

Well…

The thing is… normally… 

You're… supposed to say it back, right?

You open your mouth but not a single noise leaves it. You avert your eyes in shame, biting your lip.

Why can't you say it? After all she's done for you so far?

…..

“I-It's okay, (Y/n),” Lyn suddenly says, making you look at her. Her eyes and voice are filled with sadness. “I know… that it takes time for a person to develop feelings for someone. I mean, it took time for me to realize my feelings too, and… I did ask you out knowing that you might not… reciprocate my feelings. At least not yet. That's why people date, right? To get to know each other and hopefully fall in love. So… I'll wait for you. Besides, we’ve only dated for a month, right? I’ll do my best to make you fall in love with me. Okay? Prepare yourself~”

You nod, happy that Lyn still wants to be with you even if you can't say those three words back to her yet.

-----🔔-----

“Who are you talking to?”

You look up from your phone. “Oh! One of my old coworkers. He was just asking how I'm doing now since I've left the cafe. Thanks to you,” you answer, with a playful smile.

Lyn’s face doesn't share your expression. “Oh. Okay.”

You pout, wondering what's going on with Lyn lately. She'd catch you on the phone, ask you who you're talking to, and then ignore you until she finds something else to ask.

You crawl towards her on the bed and ask, “Lyn, I know you're upset. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lyn looks at you, looks away, and then looks back at you again before she leans forward and catches your lips with a kiss. She pushes you down onto the bed before releasing you from her lips and just looks at you.

Her eyes move from your eyes to your lips to your exposed collarbone before going back up to your eyes. She sighs before laying her entire weight on you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck.

“Lyn?”

“I love you, (Y/n)... Do you love me?”

“I…” Your voice catches in your throat for nth time.

You feel her breath as she sighs. “I know.”

Tears start to fill up your eyes out of frustration. “I'm sorry…”

She pops back on her elbows, worried. “Oh no, it's okay. Shh shh. It's okay. (Y/n). My (Y/n). I'm sorry,” she coos, caressing your cheek and wiping your tears.

For some reason, no matter what she did, nothing could spark you to say those three damned words back to her. It isn't your fault but…

It is starting to drive her insane.

[deuxcherise]

Honey

C/w: Slightly suggestive, kisses,  yandere female, gender neutral reader, comfort, fluff

A/n: Happy Pride Month! I realized that I write too many male yandere scenarios. Need to give some female yanderes some love. Enjoy!

Masterlist

“... Please let me go,” you ask.

Her arms wrapped around your body become tighter. The two of you lay in your shared bed, sweaty and full of bliss. Clothes are splayed all over the floor, a large blanket the only thing giving you a sense of decency.

“Why?” she whispers into your ear, a bit of a threatening crackle in her voice. “So you can run off into someone else's arms? No, I don't think so.”

You give her an exasperated look. “I’m going to be late.”

“No.”

“You're going to run off into someone's arms.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won't.”

“Yes, you will!”

You sigh and close your eyes. You wonder why she's so jealous of everyone, constantly thinking they'll steal you away. You are married to her, for goodness sake! As if the matching diamond encrusted ring around your ring fingers weren’t enough to shout to the whole world exactly who you belong to, did she have to make you wear the collar too? Then again… it was either that or show off the many red marks she's placed on your neck in public.

She pouts with her plush lips. She moves onto her elbows and cages you under her. Her cat-like eyes narrow at you, her long hair pooling around you on the pillow. Clearly, she thinks, you haven't realized you're her property yet.

She gently caresses your face, tracing her fingers from your cheek to your brow to your eyes to your nose to your lips. She smirks as she dips her nail between your slightly agape lips, remembering how that cute tongue and voice of yours comes out when she touches and pokes you in the right spots… Oh, she could kiss you all day if only she didn’t need oxygen…

From the way your pretty eyes sparkle when you smile, or the way your beautiful teardrops roll down your cheeks, or the way your cute nose crinkles in delight when you eat something delicious, or the way scars and birthmarks form on your body like artistic lines on a canvas –god, aren’t you the most gorgeous being to grace this world? And to think you belong to little ol’ her…

She cannot believe it, that's the problem here.

All of a sudden, she pinches your cheeks, making your lips pucker as she glares down at you. She clicks her tongue, much to your confusion, like you've done something wrong.

“Honey?” you squeak.

“.....”

Her eyes soften. God, you're so adorable. It’s not your fault if you’re too naive to realize how her whole being, her entire existence is wrapped around your finger. You should stay like this, just for her and her alone.

She releases your cheeks and begins tormenting your lips with hot and heavy kisses, reaching down and caressing your sensitive spots as she presses her breasts against your body.

Couldn't you just stay in bed with her a little longer? Do you really have to go to work? C'mon and humor your wife, won’t you?

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Cat Got Your Tongue?

C/w: Eris is being Eris, Ollie is being weird, and Lyn is being sad | Yandere | Yandere Male and Female OCs | Reader Insert | Unhealthy behavior | Violent actions (courtesy of Eris) | Slight Angst | Comfort | Fluff | Swearing | Term ‘wifey’ will be used by someone who wears the pants in the relationship (you’ll see) | Includes a picture of a field of flowers for reference (you’ll see why~) A/n: So I wanted to go back to fun times! A little more lighthearted than the last few, ya know? Let's play with Ollie a little more, shall we? Enjoy~ Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2), Part 3 (2/2), Part 4 (you're here!), Part 5

Ollie enters the bar, cackling to his heart’s content.

Some of the customers and the bartender shoot weird looks at him. It’s the first time she’s ever seen him in a trenchcoat. Before the bartender can inquire the reason for his strange behavior, he passes by and enters his office.

…..

The bartender shrugs and resumes cleaning the glasses. She's paid to make drinks, not care about what he drinks.

-----🔔-----

In the privacy of his office, Ollie hangs his coat after taking out the picture frame he swiped from your house. The giggling gets more unhinged, his toothy grin widening as each second passes by.

“Omo~ What is my little Ollie giggling like a cat on catnip for?”

Ollie jolts violently and hugs the picture frame. He looks towards the source of the voice that scared him.

A voluptuous woman, with short black hair and cat-like green eyes, sits on the edge of his desk with her legs crossed. She's dressed in a white button-up shirt and a black pencil skirt, matched with black pumps. She's leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs in a sort of Thinker’s pose, propping her chin on her knuckles. On her face sits a very Cheshire cat-like grin.

“M-mother?” Ollie squeaks. “What are you doing here?”

He glances at his father relaxing on one of the guest chairs, and gives him a questioning look. His father looks away and continues reading the book in his hands, as if to say he's got nothing to do with this situation. Tch.

“Hiii, sweetie~ I just came here to pay you both a visit. It’s lonely at home, you know? It’s only been a year since you left the nest and yet it feels like a lifetime,” she sighs.

“How did you get in here, Mother?”

“Hehehe~ Never mind that,” his mother answers. “Now, what’s that in your hands?”

Ollie’s arms tighten around the picture frame. His mother tilts her head, lips puckered and eyebrows raised at his reaction.

“Is it expensive?” she asks.

Ollie takes a step back. “It… It could be.”

“Can you eat it?”

“Sure, if you can eat wood.”

…..

“Ollie. Why won't you show me?”

Ollie shakes his head. He had taken the picture frame for his own amusement, but it's not meant for the eyes of others. This scheme of his regarding this picture frame is simply for him and you alone. No one else. Not even Eris.

His mother sighs, placing her hands behind her on the desk and lowering her head for a moment before she pushes herself off the desk. Ollie, seeing where this is going, covers the back of his neck with a hand and takes another step back.

“Ollie~ Come be a good kit… and listen to your mother!” She launches at Ollie with clawed hands.

Ollie side-steps and dodges. He slides over his desk just as his mother turns around. His mother then throws herself over the desk just as Ollie maneuvers around the desk. They chase each other around the small office like a cat and mouse, knocking over papers and paperweights. His father simply shrinks himself and continues reading his book, a spot of serenity in the midst of this chaos.

Only when the mother and son duo tire out do they stop, standing a distance from each other as their shoulders visibly move up and down from catching their breath. Strands of their hair stick up in all kinds of places, and their clothes are an untidy mess on them.

“Ollie!”

“No!”

His mother pouts and casts a look towards his father, who peeks up from his book with a questioning look. His mother makes a ‘hmph’ sound. His father bookmarks his book, and sets it aside before getting off his chair. Before Ollie can react, his father suddenly appears across the room and softly pinches Ollie on the special nerves on the back of his neck, forcing Ollie's body to turn into a ragdoll and release the picture frame.

His mother grins as she catches the picture frame. “Thank you, wifey~”

His father gives a slight nod. Ollie, with his nerves pinched, can only despair.

She raises up her prize.

…..

“What… exactly am I looking at, Ollie?”

“G-give it back!”

“Not until you tell me what this is.”

“It's none of your business!”

“May I remind you that I spent nine months carrying you and suffered 20 hours to birth you. I. Deserve. To. Know. Now explain to your mother!”

Ollie groans. “Fine… I took it… because of the kid in the picture.”

…..

His mother looks at the kid. She looks at Ollie. She looks at the kid. She looks at Ollie.

“Ollie, dearest… As much we love you and support you in any endeavor of yours,” His mother looks at her son with worry, flipping the picture towards Ollie, finger pointing at your child's self's portrait. “We won't tolerate pedo–”

“IT'S NOT LIKE THAT! THAT'S JUST A CHILDHOOD PICTURE OF THEM!” he screeches.

“... Oh!”

Ollie can feel his father give a heavy sigh of relief through his fingers. Ollie clicks his tongue at the fact that his parents would even suggest the absurd notion that he's into little kids like some disgusting monster.

“How old is she? He? They? How old is the kid in this picture now?” his mother asks. “They’re an adult now… right?”

Ollie thinks about it, ruminating through his conversations with Eris. He knows you're an adult, that's for sure. You dropped out of high school some time ago and you had worked at a cafe around seven years ago and you have been working at your current job for about five years now… Ollie’s smart, but he's got nothing.

“I don’t know how old they are but they're definitely an adult. Probably around my age.”

“Oh, that’s good,” his mother says, satisfied. She then turns contemplative the more she looks at the kid in the picture. “Ohh, I get it now~”

Ollie can practically hear the cogs turning in his mother's head. “Whatever you're thinking, that's not it.”

“Sure, sure. Omo~ So this is the childhood picture of my future child-in-law!”

“NO!”

“Aww, don't be so shy, Ollie. So? How long have you been dating~?”

“I'm telling you, that's not it!’

“Eh, why not~?”

“It isn’t!”

“Really? But they must be quite the looker now~  Why don’t you make them yours?”

 “Because (Y/n) already belongs to Eris!”

…..

Ollie's father releases Ollie's neck from shock. Ollie's mother stares at Ollie wide-eyed, her mouth in an “o” sound. 

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Ollie mocks with a roll of his eyes, rubbing his neck.

“(Y/n), huh~? What a nice name.”

“Mother, please.”

His mother pinches him on the cheek for his sass, before patting him on the cheek. “I'm so sorry, Ollie. First loves don't usually work out.”

His father, too, pats him on the back with pity.

Ollie gently slaps his mother's hand and shrugs his father’s hand away. “Like I said, it's not like that.”

“Does Eris know you have this?” his mother asks, raising up the picture frame.

He snatches the picture frame back and walks over to his bookcase. “... No.”

Ollie tilts a certain book out, unlocking a secret safebox from behind a set of books. His mother looks at his father, confused. His father shrugs. The cogs in his mother’s brain start to turn again. “Hmm… Is that so? How strange~ You and Eris share almost everything together, don’t you? Could it be…” she murmurs to herself under her breath before a conclusion pops into her head. “Omo~ You've always been such a shy boy~ To think you'd resort to being a bully to the person that you like~”

Before he can input the code, he quickly turns around, his face red. “Would you quit it? I said I don't like them! In fact, I’ll have you know that I absolutely hate them!”

Wow, such intense emotions. “Eh~ Why?”

“Because they turned Eris into such a– a– a– simp! What kind of person turns someone like that into a stupid simp? You know how he is– was. So I went to (Y/n) house and– and– they were so boring. Their face was so stiff and– and–”

-----

You stand up. “Hey! What the heck are you doing? Don't just throw stuff on the ground! No manners, tch.”

-----

Ollie quiets.

Your eyebrows were scrunched together, your eyes stormy with rage, baring your teeth at him. Your voice was so loud and potent it shook him to the core. Such a large reaction to him simply throwing a bowl at the ground. And even the click of your tongue was such a nice touch…

No one has ever done that before. If he did something wrong, people would just quietly clean it up either muttering under their breath that he was a brat or without a single word. Even his parents have never yelled at him the way you did. Even his best friend, Eris, would just beat him up instead of having a conversation like a normal person…

Not to mention, your anger was so… so drastic from your stiff expression. It was like seeing the beautiful flames of a campfire from a distance while lost in an eternally frozen tundra.

Is that why Eris is so interested in you? If that’s the case, no wonder Eris has been doing the stupidest things ever since he met you!

Ollie begins to wonder what your face looked like, after you’ve discovered he’s stolen your picture frame. The very picture frame Eris keeps talking about being your most precious item. It’s a shame he can’t be there to see it… but he’s sure he’ll see it the next time he visits you! How angry will you be at him then? Oh, he can’t wait!

His parents exchange looks at the sight of their son becoming lost in his thoughts. It’s decided in their minds, their youngest son is most definitely infatuated with whoever this “(Y/n)” is.

“Do you think he’ll introduce (Y/n) to us someday, wifey?” his mother whispers to her husband.

His father answers. “Mm.”

-----🔔-----

[A little while ago…]

Lyn looks up at the night sky. She softly traces the engraved letters on her ring.

With all of the streetlamps on the street, the light pollution has taken away the stars. It was just like the night Lyn left behind everything she ever knew to start over and find herself again. Her family, her friends…. You… What a shame. The night sky tonight is the same as her life without you, a dark abyss without a single glimmer of hope.

She wonders if you’re looking at the same sky now. How often do you think of her… or do you think of her at all? Probably not… She only hopes that you’re happy now… Without her…

Step step step step…

Hearing someone swiftly approaching the bar, she looks over ready to greet– “What are you doing back?”

Eris angrily points at her, as if to say “you’re next”, as he quickly hops over the rope and enters the bar. Fearing the worst, considering what she’s heard about him, she abandons her post and follows after him.

Inside the bar, the patrons pay the incomers no mind. The bartender spots an angry Eris and a concerned Lyn coming towards her, which makes the bartender almost drop the cocktail she is preparing.

Eris slams his hands on the bar counter, attracting the attention. “Where’s Ollie?”

“Please, Eris, don’t make a scene!” Lyn whispers harshly, grabbing his shoulders.

“I-in his office,” the bartender answers.

“Right.” Eris slips out of Lyn’s grasp and strides over to Ollie’s office.

“Eris!”

-----🔔-----

[Back to the present…]

Ollie was still lost in his thoughts and his parents were just enjoying the sight of their son being lost, when the door flies off the hinges and crashes into the opposite wall, shattering a decorative painting’s glass frame.

Eris’s head pops in, his eyes scanning the room until they lock onto Ollie. The rest of his body walks into the room. He then notices there are two other people here, Ollie’s parents.

Not that it matters.

“Mrs. and Mr. Panthera. I’m sorry, but could I have your son to myself for a few minutes? I just need to talk to him,” he asks, voice clipping robotically, without taking his eyes off of Ollie.

“Sorry, he was too slippery,” Lyn gasps, coming in after. She spots Ollie’s parents and respectfully greets them with a nod.

“Omo, you can have him for yourself forever if you take his hand in marriage~” his mother teases. “Just kidding~ Okay, don’t hurt him too badly, Eris, or I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself~! Alright, buh bye, everyone~ Nice to see you, Lyn~” Afterwards, Ollie’s parents leave promptly.

Eris swerves his head towards Lyn and points at her. “You. Wait your turn outside.”

Lyn slaps Eris’s hand out of her face. “Excuse me!?”

“You’re excused,” Eris smoothly says.

Ollie raises up a hand. “It’s okay, Lyn. I can handle this.”

Lyn casts a worried look towards Ollie before she shoots a glare at Eris. “I don’t care what happens but if Ollie doesn’t come out alive, I’ll tear you apart. Capisce?” she threatens, then leaves the room to resume her position outside the bar, but not before leaning the broken door against the door frame for temporary privacy.

“Hnh. Loyal dog,” Eris mocks.

“Oi,” Ollie warns Eris before taking a seat behind his desk. “So why’d you break my door for?”

Eris slams his hands onto Ollie’s desk. Ollie makes a face. “Could you please stop trying to break my furniture? Mahogany is expensive!”

Eris narrows his eyes. “You… You know what? I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt you.” Eris’s face relaxes as he takes a seat in one of the guest seats. “We’re both adults now. There’s no need to fight, right? Besides, I should thank you, Ollie.”

“F- Ahem! For what?”

“For being the reason (Y/n) called me.”

“Oh,” Ollie says, swiping away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “Okay… So?”

“So return the picture frame.”

Ollie’s eyes go wide. Ohhh. You must’ve called Eris about it. That was fast… You’re a lot closer to Eris than he thought. “Oh. What was (Y/)– your lover’s reaction like?

“Angry?” Eris answers matter-of-factly. “Obviously. I’ve told you multiple times that it is extremely precious to (Y/n). Seeing as you’re not denying it, you either want to die or you were expecting me. Why’d you take it?”

Ollie wasn’t expecting Eris to find out so quickly. He looks away, mulling over his next words carefully. “I… was suspicious.”

“Suspicious? Why?”

Ollie looks back to Eris, resting his elbows on his desk and interlocking his fingers together. “I’ll be honest, Eris. We’ve both known each other since highschool and only until you met your lover did you start acting weird. It’s not like you at all. For all I know, your lover could’ve been manipulating you.”

Eris scoffs. “I am in love, Ollie. Of course, I’m going to act different. And (Y/n) isn’t like that. Don’t slander them.”

“It’s just weird, okay?? Anyway, so I went to their apartment to check them out myself–”

“Do you have a death wish, Ollie?”

Ollie places his hands up in a surrendering pose. “Not at all. And then I met them and– Oi, did you know your lover–” Ollie catches himself, before he reveals the fact that you just nonchalantly offered to feed him. “Ah, nevermind. And I kind of just… took the picture frame.”

…..

“Why??

Sweat beads on Ollie’s forehead. “Because…”

“Because…?”

“Because… Well, ya know me. I like to take souvenirs whenever I visit,” Ollie spits rapidly. “Hey, I was planning on returning it back. Promise!”

Eris takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back on the chair. “If you ever do something like this again, I will kill you, Ollie. Got it?”

“... Yeup,” Ollie pops the ‘p’. “Loud and clear. By the way, like how angry was your lover? Like screaming angry or sad angry or…?”

“Ollie, (Y/n) was very, very angry,” Eris says, lifting up his head. “Anyway, c’mon, Ollie. Hand over the picture frame. I can return it to (Y/n) for you, if you–”

“NO!” Ollie screeches before he settles his voice. “Ahem! No. I can return it to your lover myself. Don’t worry.”

Eris narrows his eyes. “What d’you mean ‘return it yourself’?”

“I mean, with you. Return it myself, with you.”

…..

Eris lets it go and stands up. “Alright, let’s go right now.”

Ollie knit his eyebrows. “Huh? Right now? It’s in the middle of the–”

Murder in Eris’s eyes.

“–Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Give me a minute, I need to get it out of the safebox. Jesus Christ… You better pay for the damn door, fucking weasel…”

-----🔔-----

Eris enters the pin to get into the parking garage underneath your apartment.

“... Oi, how'd you get the pin for the parking garage?” Ollie asks once they park, sitting in the passenger seat while hugging the picture frame.

“I have my ways.”

They walk into the elevator that'll bring them from the underground floor to whatever level they want in this six story building.

“Oh wow, they need a password in the elevator?” Ollie whistles, impressed.

“Yeah.” Eris types in the password and up the elevator moves towards your floor.

“The hell? How’d you know the password?”

“I have my ways.”

Up there, Eris leads Ollie to your apartment door and is stopped by another pin pad.

“What the hell? Oi, how many security codes do they need? And how in the hell do you know all of them?” Ollie demands.

“I have my…” Eris pauses, his finger hovering over the pin pad. “... Well, how'd you get in here earlier?”

“Uh… I climbed the building? Cracked open through the window? How else was I going to get in here? By the way, you should remind your lover to lock their windows next time.”

“Oh. Huh,” Eris says, impressed. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way…”

It is at this moment that Eris absorbs the information that Ollie, who has never lifted a finger for something he doesn't care for, had scaled up this six-floored building and climbed into your room through the window… and only took a picture frame? If anything, Ollie had an eye for either something expensive or something edible. But a picture frame, and not any picture frame but your family portrait. Why? Unless… Does Ollie like–

Eris clicks his tongue. 

Ah, no way. Ollie always talks badly about you. Ollie was the one who told him not to talk to you. Maybe it was his fault for not introducing you to his best friend sooner. Eris only wanted to have your existence to himself as long as possible. Ollie must’ve been so curious about you that he wanted to meet you. Ollie was just worrying about him, like any good friend. That must be it. There's no way that Ollie fell for... Hahaha… hah… no way…

He better not.

Eris inputs the pin code, and slowly unlocks the door to your apartment. Inside is dark, with all of the lights turned off and all of the curtains drawn over the windows. Eris closes the door behind them and quietly rushes over to where he hears you softly snoring on the couch. Aww~ You have tear stains on your cheek. He crouches down on the ground in front of you and gazes lovingly at your sleeping face, unable to help him from wiping away your tears. The sensation slowly takes you out of your dreams.

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, love,” Eris whispers. “But I’m here now. I'm sorry I couldn't be back sooner.”

Ollie stares at Eris and you with a disgusted face. Right. He already knew how much of a sap Eris becomes whenever he talks about you, but seeing it in person really takes the cake.

“Uh… so what should I do?” Ollie whispers.

Eris snaps out of his trance and looks at Ollie, annoyed. “Oh right. Just leave the picture frame on the table and you can go.”

Ollie's hold on your picture frame tightens.

No! He has to see your reaction! Will you be super angry to see him again, like a raging inferno? Or will it be like a flickering flame like a candle? Either way, he couldn’t possibly leave yet!

“N-no. I can wait. I, uh, need to apologize first.”

“... Huh.” Eris narrows his eyes. “Ollie–”

You slowly wake up to Eris's eager face. 

Huh, this is weird, you think. Usually, you'd wake up to Eris all snuggled up on top of you without any consideration of your feelings. Why is he just crouching in front of you, and why did he wake you up? … Oh, can it be?

“Picture…?” you ask, voice laced with drowsiness.

Eris’s attention snaps back to you, eyes wide. 

GOOD. LORD. Your hopeful eyes and cute, sleepy voice– directed at him for the first time ever? Oh, if only he could bring out his phone at this moment, record and add this moment to his collection! Eris could die hap– well, after he marries and grows old with you first, but you get the point.

He cheerfully nods and strokes your head. “Mm hm! Yes, love. I got your picture back~ And my… friend also wants to apologize to you.”

Ollie can't help but cringe at how baby-ish Eris sounds with you. This guy was ready to kill just a while ago and yet here he is, like some domesticated little weasel in front of you. What’s with that?? And what was that weird emphasis on ‘friend’?

You sit up groggily, your head lulling. You don't see your picture frame in Eris's hands or on the table, then you turn and see… Oh, there it is.

The moment you make eye contact with Ollie, goosebumps form along his skin. As you slowly recognize him, your eyebrows, nose, and mouth form into an angry expression. Ah, there's that beautiful expression Ollie wanted to see-

“YOU!” you screech, launching yourself at Ollie.

The both of you crash onto the ground and you rip the picture frame from his hands, raising it up victoriously. Finally! Your parents are reunited with you at last! You hug it tightly, smiling brightly and eyes brimming with happy tears.

Eris, immensely perturbed by how you’re sitting on Ollie’s abdomen, manages to wrap his arms around you and lift you off Ollie while you’re distracted by the picture frame. You, of course, snap out of your excitement and begin to squirm in his embrace until he lets you go.

Ollie, on the other hand, lays there on the ground, not minding the pounding behind his head as your new expression plays over and over like a broken record.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Spring? A field of flowers– No. More like summer, when the trees and fields bear fruit… Mm no. No no no no no. Those are understatements of the century! Is there any possible way to describe it?

…..

Ah. There is.

The Garden of Eden. Perhaps even… Heaven?

Ollie is snapped out of his daze when Eris waves a hand in front of him.

“You okay, Ollie? You hit your head too hardor something?”

Ollie slowly leans up on his elbows and discovers you're busy positioning the picture frame on the coffee table where it so rightfully belongs. “Uh… huh…” Ollie answers.

Curious, Eris follows Ollie's line of sight.

Satisfied with your placement and feeling eyes in you, you look over to find, not only Eris's eyes, but the green eyes of his friend, who Eris called Ollie. Your face returns to its stiff expression, though your eyes are glaring daggers at them. “What are you looking at?”

Eris smiles at you, gently places a hand over Ollie's eyes, and slams his head back onto the floor, which makes you jolt. “Me? At you, of course~ Who else?”

You purse your lips, feeling your cheeks heat up at his shamelessness. It… it must be because he hasn’t been around all night. And he made sure to return your picture frame, so you guess you can afford to… feel a little happy to see him… just a little bit… “Quit it. Look somewhere else.”

 Eris pouts. “Don't wannna.”

You look over to his friend, who is lying very still under Eris’s hand. Alarmingly still. “Um… Your friend, is he okay? You might’ve…”

Eris shows you a very toothy grin, his teeth gritted tightly. “Oh yeah, he’s okay. See?” He lifts up his hand, to find Ollie’s eyes closed. Eris shakes him on the shoulder to wake him up. Ollie doesn’t respond. “Ah.”

You gasp. “We need to get him to a hospital!”

“Eh. He probably just fell asleep–”

“Eris!”

“Fine… Only for you, love~”

“For the last time, I’m not your ‘love’!”

“M’kay, darling.”

“You– Ugh…”

[deuxcherise]

Breakin’ Dishes

C/w: Breaking dishes, unhealthy behavior, dubcon (?), manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome (?), married shenanigans, hair pulling, the dom here is short for domestic (LOL), fluff (?)

A/n: So I was listening to Breakin’ Dishes by Rihanna lately, and I think I wanna write about a brat. So this is kind of a scenario based on the imagine I wrote a day ago.

Masterlist | Lore

It was a mistake on your husband’s part, leaving you all alone at home like this.

THUNK! TINK! CRASH!

You throw another dish onto the floor, watching it break into a thousand pieces with a demented grin on your face. Shattered pieces join the rest of the broken porcelain.

You’ve been at this for the last thirty minutes. Why? Well, for one, you were stuck inside your house without a single key to get outside.

You've already tried the windows, throwing a chair at each one. Multiple times. They were fitted with reinforced ballistic glass, the same kind of material the government uses for cars transporting presidents. Courtesy of your stupid, controlling husband.

You have always been an indoors kind of person, but secondly you were spiraling from the lack of entertainment. No TV, no phone, no tablet, no computer–not even a game console.

“Those will pollute your mind,” your husband said, before he chucked them into the garbage can outside.

Yeah right.

You had to admit you understand the mindset for everything else, considering how controlled public information by the AI and whatnot, but as for the game console, your stupid husband was just jealous over your obsession with some handsome-looking enemy boss in one of your video games. You know it!

Remembering how much money you saved up to buy those games all going down the drain makes you chew on your bottom lip in frustration. The more you think about this injustice, the more the flames inside of your roars. You snatch some more dishes from the cupboards and smash them before stomping on the ground, wherever was clear of shattered porcelain, multiple times as you shriek your lungs out to the living room.

“I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I'M GONNA DIVOR-”

“(Y/n)?”

Your voice leaves you as you slowly turn towards your beloved husband, who has just gotten home from grocery shopping. He sets the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter and comes over to wrap his arms around you.

You make a show of keeping your hands on his chest and pushing him away, but he knows you're just frustrated with him right now with how much strength you're putting into this. Much different from when he initially trapped you in this house. He has a little scar on the underside of his left jaw, from when you swiped at him with your nails.

He smiles at your cuteness and leans down to get his ‘welcome home’ kiss. You turn away. He shifts his head, and you turn again.

“Sweetheart?”

You turn your head again.

“(Y/nnnn)~ Gimme kiss. Kiss kiss.”

“Mm mm!” you hmphed, continuing to evade his kissing attempts.

“(Y/n). Give. Me. My kiss.”

“N-nyo! No kisses for you, stupid.”

He gathers all of your hair with one hand and pulls taut, forcing you to be still. Your eyes widen in shock before giving him a very displeased expression. That hurt! Now you definitely won't get any kisses! your face seems to say.

You can tell he's trying to keep a serious expression on his face, by the trembling of his lip and quirk of his brow, before it eventually breaks out into a grin and a chuckle. He pecks you on the lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you, (Y/n),” he whispers, eyes full of adoration for you.

“I don't,” you snap.

He jerks at your hair, a warning. His smile stays on his face, but his eyes become a bit darker. “Hey… that's not nice, sweetheart. Say it back.”

“Say what back?”

His other hand playfully slaps your butt, making you flinch and almost moan before you swallow it immediately.

“Say you love me back, sweetheart.”

Of course, you love him. He's your YAN, literally designed for you to love and be loved by. Eternally. Everything he does is to win your affection. To understand you in all the ways another human couldn't possibly do. His existence depends on you.

But with the house arrest and destruction of your prized possessions, you're feeling less inclined to follow his whims.

“You love me back, sweetheart,” you repeat.

He chuckles and closes his eyes, shoulders quivering, before throwing his head back in laughter. Once he calms down, he presses his forehead against yours again, letting go of your hair to pull you close into a very tight hug.

“I do love you. So so much. I love you I love you I love you I love you. You know that, right?”

You purse your lips. “Yesh?”

“You know I had to throw it all away. I can't have your mind be eaten away by… indecency.”

Ah, so he knows what he did wrong but he's not apologizing.

“What? All of my games are PG-13!” you retort.

“One of them wasn't… What was it? Gold Seelie?”

“Golden Sphere,” you correct him. “Only because of the violence. It's not like I was going to turn violent and start killing people!”

“Oh… Really?” he teases, looking over your shoulder, most likely at the broken dishes on the floor.

“Your fault,” you spit.

He scoffs. “Sweetheart, we're both adults,” he says with a condescending tone. “You shouldn't be blaming others for your tantrum.”

“Your fault,” you insist, crossing your arms.

"(Y/n), we both know that's not true."

"....."

He hums, contemplative. “M’kay. My fault. I'm sorry, (Y/n).”

“For what?”

“I'm sorry for taking away your video games.”

“And?”

“And?” he repeats, confused.

You struggle to turn yourself around his tight embrace, facing away from him with your back to his front. Those who get it, get it. Those who don’t, don’t get any kisses. “Hmph!”

“I'm sorry for… taking away the TV and all of the other electronics?”

That isn't it. “Hmph!”

“I'm sorry for… locking you in the house? It's for your own safety, sweetheart.”

You still feel annoyed at that, but that's not it either. “Hmph!”

“(Y/nnnn). Give me a hint. Please. I can't stand it when you're mad at me and I can't do anything about it.”

You sigh. “... Stupid, we're married, aren't we?”

“Yes? Happily, I hope?”

“And married couples are supposed to do everything together…”

You could practically hear a lightbulb go off above your husband, much to your satisfaction.

“Ohhh. Were you lonely at home without me? Did I take too long? I'm sorry, (Y/n). Must’ve been boring at home without me. I’ll take you with me everywhere from now. I love you~”

He litters several kisses on the back of your head and neck. You giggle from how they tickle, grabbing onto his arms.

“Hey,” he pauses, “You still haven't said ‘I love you’ back yet.”

You hum playfully.

“(Y/nnnnn).”

“Hehe, I love you,” you finally said, turning your head to give him a kiss.

----------

[Extra]

You push the broom and dustpan into his hands. “Your fault,” you state.

He chuckles, taking the items out of your hands. “I know. I’m sorry. Anything for you as long as you don’t divorce me.”

You purse your lips and squint your eyes, humming contemplatively.

A look of horror appears on his face. “S-sweetheart!?”

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Self-Preservations

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, OCs, yandere male, tsundere male, kidnapping, violence against doors, slight fluff (?), slight comfort (?), reader insert, gender neutral reader, includes a picture of cutting board with fruits and a knife (you’ll see why~).

A/n: So! Back with another chapter for Collar Crimes. I had a plan originally to introduce another yandere in this chapter, but the build-up here is quite delicious in my opinion so I’ll save the introduction for whenever the time comes. Basically a tiny time-skip from the last chapter because I was thinking that the problem was that everything that was happening to you, the reader, takes too little time between each “event” so to speak, so yeah! Also exploring some of your personal life outside of Eris and friends. Enjoy~!

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2), Part 3 (2/2), Part 4, Part 5 (you’re here!), Part 6 (not yet!)

It has been a month since the Family Portrait incident and life has returned to normality…

But what would be considered abnormal at this point?

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today?” you sing into the phone.

“Sweetheart~ I’ve missed you sooooo much!” the caller answers.

Although no one except for your coworkers can see your face, you resist the urge to roll your eyes at yet another cringey lovey-dovey line of your newest client. You have been called a variety of things such as “darling”, “honey”, “sweetie”, “sweet talker”, “beautiful”,  “my special”, “youngster”, “lady”, “sir”, “ma’am”, “dadd— sometimes vulgar things you do not wish to recall at the moment. Whatever the customer wants, the customer gets— aka whatever pays the bills.

Of course, your mind echoes, no one could beat the way Eris calls you “love-”

You bang your head on your desk. The current caller on the line worriedly exclaim, “S-sweetheart? What was that?”

You clear your throat, pressing against the sore area on your forehead. “Nothing at all, dear~ I just accidentally dropped a heavy stapler. It’s been a long day, ah…”

“Aww~ My sweetheart is working so hard… I’ll tell you what. Tonight, I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant in the city, okay? My treat.”

Wow. Such a grand gesture. This client really has a savior complex. Kind of like-  “Ehhh? Don’t worry about it. And besides, I’m working pretty late tonight so… ”

“Noooo! You can’t refuse,” your client says. “I’ll march right up to your company and kidnap you away myself if I have to.”

“Pffft. Don’t make that kind of joke, Ren,” you fake laugh. If only the police were more reliable in this godforsaken city…

“Ah~ I really like it when you say my name. Do it again.”

“Ren?”

“Again. But more lovely.”

“Ren~” you repeat with a soft and breathy tone.

The caller on the phone giggles manically before they bid you goodbye with lots of kisses and other corny romantic lines. You hang up the phone and give a sigh as you slouch back against your chair. One of your coworkers leans back far on her own chair to show her face past the divider between your desks.

“Long day?” she sings.

Eye closed, you nod. “Mmhm.”

“.....”

“.....”

Sensing eyes on you, you open your own and turn towards your coworker, who looks like she’s about to burst. Eyebrows raised, you ask with amusement in your voice,  “Yes, Cherry?”

She puckers up her lip, humming, “Mmm… ya know~ The usual? Can I? Please?”

You mentally prepare yourself and shrug. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Yay!” She celebrates with both arms raised before she takes a deep breath. “So-”

-----

“-or not? Like how do I know if she really loves me? What do you think, (Y/n)?”

Truth be told, you might have zoned out after twenty minutes before zoning back in during the last few minutes of the hour-long rant. Somehow, there wasn’t a call during the entire time, though your shifts are almost over. “Uh… so what’s the problem again? Didn’t she already agree to date you?”

“I know,” Cherry insists, throwing her hands up in defeat. “But I'm still so worried. Like what if she looks at someone else and finds them better than me? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPARE??? SHE IS A GODDESS, I TELL YOU. I AM NOTHING BUT A LOWLY BUG THAT SHE NEEDS TO STEP ON OR SO HELP ME-”

You keep silent as she releases her passion out loud, much to the detriment of your other coworkers. Your other adjacent coworker, Azeru, sitting on your other side, leans back on his chair to join the conversation. “Hey, Cherry. If you’re this crazy about your girlfriend now, what’s gonna happen when you finally marry her?” he chuckles.

A glint appears in her eyes, accompanied by tears beading at the bottom of her eyes and a strangely, crooked smile on her lips. “Oh… well… If I had it my way, I’d lock her up with me in our house and we’d stay in bed all day. Just me and my honey~ Isn’t that a wonderful idea?”

Old memories of a familiar dynamic bleed into your head, sending a shiver up your spine. “That’s a horrible idea,” you want to comment, but your voice doesn’t leave your tightened throat. Instead, what comes out is: “Uh… uh…

“Doesn’t your girlfriend like being outside though?” Azeru points out. “If you keep her inside all day, she might come to hate you.”

Cherry’s maniacal face shatters into terror. “I…” Her pupils begin to tremble. “Could that happen?”

“Oh, absolutely. If you love someone, you have to let them have the freedom to roam as they please.” His voice then becomes more dark and gravelly. “That being said, it is a given that you must punish them if they stray too far. That’s why when I find someone one day, I’ll make sure they know they’re on an extended leash…”

You open your mouth to retort, but you start to wonder if perhaps you were born unlucky. Lately, you’ve realized that you might be some kind of magnet for weirdos. Speaking of weirdos, ever since Eris took his friend to the nearest hospital to get treated for a possible concussion, you haven’t seen him around. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been around your home, seeing as your fridge is still stocked with fresh meals and there’s not a speck of dust to be seen in any of the rooms, but the lack of his dopey smiling face is concerning.

…..

You scoff. Regardless, it’s not like anything would change even if he did show up like he used to. It would just be annoying to have to endure his warm hugs and sweet whispers again…

“(Y/n)!?” Cherry shrieks after you bang your head on your desk again.

Azeru snickers. “You must be thinking of lover boy, huh?”

You glare at him through your eyes and voice, your ever-present blank expression lending no assistance. “No. Say that again and I’ll rip out your tongue, Blueberry.”

You can visibly see his shoulders shake as he smirks, containing his laughter. “I really can’t take you seriously when you have such a straight face.” He settles down with an amused sigh, a look of concern replacing his smirk. “But seriously, you seem kind of… I dunno. Out of it lately.”

You wrinkle your eyebrows. “... Really?”

“Yeah! Azeru’s right. Even your Lychee voice is lacking that… that sparkle-sparkle quality,” Cherry adds, mimicking fireworks with her hands. “Are you okay, (Y/n)? You’re even banging your head…” Her red eyes go wide. “You’re not trying to erase memories of those perverted callers, are you!? THERE ARE BETTER WAYS-”

“I’m sure that’s not what (Y/n)’s trying to do, right? ‘Cause if you need forgetting,” Azeru says, patting your back before taking out a black bat with skulls and x’s patterned all over it from under his desk, “all you just need to do is ask. I’ll help you out for free, courtesy as a fellow Fruity Friend~”

“Yeah…” You ignore the happy-murderer look on Azeru’s face, sit up straight, and place both of your hands on your desk with determination. “You know what? I think I need a vacation.”

Cherry and Azeru gasp. “A vacation!?” 

Indeed… You stand up from your desk with such vigor before walking straight towards the manager’s office. A vacation is exactly what you need. Away from work. Away from your apartment. Away from all of these crazy people!!!

-----

“YOU CAN’T, (Y/N)! PLEASE, YOU CAN’T GO ON VACATION. YOU’RE ONE OF OUR BEST CALLERS! Y-YOU KNOW WHAT?? HOW ABOUT I RAISE YOUR SALARY, HUH?”

You click your tongue. “You can’t buy me with mon-”

“I’ll raise your salary to XXXXXX.”

“.....”

-----

You close the office door behind you with a sigh. Looking next to you, you find Cherry and Azeru waiting with bated breath, making the questioning gesture with their palms up to receive the verdict.

“So?” Cherry speaks, her pouty lips making an ‘o’.

You simply answer with a shrug, “I got a pay raise.”

The two of them drop their arms and groan. “I knew it,” Azeru sighs, burying his face in his hands. “The money’s too good to quit!”

While you failed to acquire approval for vacation, you’re not feeling too bad considering your income has just upgraded from rent money and leftover takeout to rent money and luxurious restaurant dine-in and leftovers. Though, with your fridge stocked, you suppose you could apply the extra funds towards other things…

But what things? you wonder. Other than a place to live, something to eat, and the bathroom, there is not much you desire. Once upon a time, you would’ve desired owning luxury brands and all that stuff but… you found out the hard way that all the sparkling opulence in the world couldn’t afford you any warmth and comfort in a cold, restrictive home.

Out of an old habit you haven’t gotten rid of, you start to caress your left ring finger with your right index and thumb. “Riiight?” you agree, bitterly.

-----

With the end of the work day, employees of Fruity Friends bid their adieus to each other and set forth home or to an outing. You, Azeru, and Cherry head out of the doors of your company building and down the stairs onto the sidewalk.

“C’mooon! Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Cherry whines, behind you with hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, gonna go home,” you answer. “Wanna sleep.”

Azeru snickers on the side. “What are you? A senior citizen?”

“Hardy har har,” you laugh unenthusiastically, gently brushing Cherry’s hands off your shoulder. “You guys go on ahead without me, okay? Have fun.”

At that moment, a black limousine with tinted black windows drives up the curb and stops into front of you three. The chauffeur comes out, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a fancy chauffeur outfit, and gestures towards you before greeting, “Good afternoon, dear esteemed guest of the Ermine Family. We are here to escort you to your dinner reservation with our eldest son, Eris Ermine.”

You stare like a deer in headlights. “Huh?”

Azeru and Cherry look between you and the chauffeur before teasing you with an, “Ooooooh!”

“Wow~ fancy, fancy~” Cherry nudges you with her elbow.

“Got a dinner date with lover boy, huh~?” Azeru nudges you on your other side.

They said Eris, but… “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person,” you say, jabbing your coworkers with your own elbows at their sides to make them stop.

The chauffeur shakes his head. “I do believe we have the right person. You are (Y/n) (M/n) (L/n), are you not?”

You almost click your tongue, but don’t out of manners. You haven’t seen that stupid guy in over a month and now he suddenly sends someone to pick you up? That’s so… unlike him.

“I’m not. I’ve been mistaken for that person before. Good day,” you say, dragging your coworkers off. Your coworkers luckily get the memo and decide to go along quietly.

“My deepest apologies, dear (L/n),” the chauffeur says, pulling the visor of his hat slightly downward. “I was informed by Mr. Ermine that if you do not come willingly, we are required to use force if needed.”

Upon hearing those words, you swerve your head around just to witness your coworkers collapse to the ground. Little darts are embedded into their necks. Before you can scream or make a move, gloved arms cover your mouth and wrap around your body, lifting you up into the air and towards the limousine. Struggle as you might, your punches and kicks have no effect on the kidnappers and you are immediately thrown into the backseat of the vehicle. The door is slammed shut and the push button is lowered, locking you inside. You hear the chauffeur getting to the driver’s seat. Making a last ditch attempt, you throw yourself against the windows, any windows, but your effort is vain and all you end up with are two bruised shoulders. You turn towards the front dividers separating you and the chauffeur, screaming, “LET ME OUT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I- I- I'LL-”

“Apologies,” the chauffeur merely says, before he drives you off to who knows where. “This is just business.”

-----🔔-----

For unsuspecting visitors who dare set foot in the city of Agobury, it is highly advised to pay close attention to where their foot lands. Else they find themselves six feet underground.

Of course, as humor goes, there is no clear differentiation between the streets. It is often said that only those born and raised in Agobury can survive in Agobury. And those who used to live in Agobury… don’t live anywhere else, if one understands rightly.

However, if one somehow manages to succeed in making a living in Agobury, then it is often said that they have made a deal with the Devil. The May Devils, to be exact, who are rumored to own more than half of the city. The other half is scattered between smaller organizations, but they too warrant respect or fear by their own right.

“Or so they say,” Ollie murmurs, arms crossed as he leans against the wall.

He stands up and straight and looks at his best friend humming a tune while placing a tin full of batter into the oven. The image of Eris dressed up in a pink apron decorated with red hearts and matching oven mitts goes against Eris’s original image, prompting him to demand, “What the hell are you doing? Training to be a malewife or something?”

Eris snaps out of his daydreams and looks over with a bright smile. “Hm? Oh! Nah, I suggested that to my lover already and they refused. I'm just baking a cake for my six-month relationship milestone~”

“Oh.” Ollie deadpans. “That's a thing?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eris answers as if Ollie just asked if the sky was blue. He takes off his oven mitts and tosses them on the counter before preparing the washed fruits on a cutting board. “So make sure your men take extra care in delivering this one, mkay? I'll kill them if my lover gets a mess.”

How is Eris acting like he hasn't been imprisoned behind several reinforced steel doors in one of the May Devils’ homes for the past month? For the last four weeks, he’s been making what used to be an empty stone-covered haunted looking basement into a cozy home for himself and having Ollie deliver the goods secretly, out of the May Devils’ sight. To be fair, those mafioso probably gave the weasel some furniture and a usable kitchen just to keep the violent man occupied and placated with the lack of windows and any access to the outside world. Actually, the better question would be-

“Why haven’t you broken out yet instead of decorating this place and baking cakes?” Ollie asks. “I thought you'd put up more of a fight.”

Eris pops a blueberry into his mouth to test out if it's sweet or not. Finding it at the right level of sweetness, he hums in delight as he imagines you happily enjoying this same sweetness.

“Oh, that. Your parents visited me a few days ago and gave some advice. They said that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I don't exactly agree with that since I feel like I'm dying every day I don’t see my lover,” he says with a smile on his face though his eyes are dark and his chopping of the apples is audibly sharp as if to emphasize the point. “But your parents have been married for so long and have many children together and they still clearly love each other, so I trust them.”

The same parents who have been urging Ollie to make a move on you ever since Eris has been locked up, Ollie almost wants to add out of spite. Almost. Trust is truly a fragile commodity around these parts.

“Besides, I gotta stay away for a while,” Eris continues. “I didn’t realize the flies around my lover were devils.”

“Huh… How kind of you.” And out-of-character! The Eris he knew didn't care about consequences. What kind of sorcery have you casted on that beast of a weasel? Not that Ollie himself hasn't been bewitched somewhat, if he had to be honest… 

Eris’s expression turns wicked with a condescending smirk. “Oh, right. You probably don’t understand ‘cause you haven’t fallen in love yet. My bad~ ” he teases.

One of Ollie’s eyes twitches. “I'll have you know-”

“That our Ollie has fallen in love~”

Eris turns and Ollie twists around to find Ollie's mother, who has appeared out of nowhere along with Ollie's father in tow.

“Mother!? Father!? What are you doing here?”

Ollie's mother pouts and places her hands on her hips. “We can't visit our son and his best friend?”

“Well, that's-”

“But anyway~” Ollie's mother waves her hand, cutting Ollie off. “Our dear Ollie has fallen in love, dear Eris. Unfortunately, it is…” She places a hand over heart and the other over her forehead in a dramatic pose with fluttering eyes. “A forbidden love,” she finishes. Ollie's father nods, placing a hand over his heart and looking forlorn to emphasize the drama.

“Again!? You two! Stop it!” Ollie pleads.

Eris crooks an eyebrow in disbelief. “Forbidden love? Ollie?”

Ollie turns back to Eris, fear in his wide eyes. He wouldn't call what he felt for you… “love” as his parents keep telling him, but… it might be… something close to it. Despite having the back of his head slammed against the wooden floor of your apartment, he still hasn't forgotten how your heavenly happy face made his heart skip a beat-

Ollie would be hard-pressed to call that “love”. It’s not! He barely knows you. It's like, uh, like admiring a beautiful piece of art, okay?? Art prompts feelings. That's what it's supposed to do!

But there's no possible way he could share and work out these feelings with Eris or anyone else without getting beat up or made fun of. Damn…

“It's not love!” Ollie insists.

Eris snorts. “Okay.”

Ding!

“Oh! My cake!” Eris chirps, forgetting about the other people in the room in favor of bringing out the cake and prepping the frosting and icing for when it cools down.

Ollie's mother wraps an arm around Ollie’s shoulder to keep him in place as she leans towards Ollie's ear and whispers behind a hand, “I see you've already made a move on our dear (Y/n). How devious~”

“What??” Ollie shouts in shock.

Eris looks over curiously. Blocking his view is Ollie’s father, who flops a hand up and down, as if to say, “Don't mind them.” The unsuspecting weasel nods in understanding before Ollie’s father points to the bowl of cream in Eris’s hands, which prompts Eris to explain the whole six month relationship milestone thing while the mother-and-son duo are scheming in the background.

Ollie's cheeks are being squished almost to the point of painful by his mother. “Since when have you decided to raise your voice at your mother?” she jokes menacingly before she releases his cheeks and drags him out of the basement. Once the door is closed, his mother crosses her arms with a pout. “What's with that reaction earlier, hm?”

Ollie only looks at her incredulously. “Mother! One, I'm not interested in-” He whispers, trying to avoid his voice from being picked up by the cameras in this house. “(Y/n) like that. And two, they’re Eris's lover. And three, I haven't made any kind of moves.”

“Eh?” She looks at him with confusion. “Well, first of all, there’s no ring so you still have a chance. Two, everyone knows, besides Eris, that you’re interested in them so might as well make your move. And three, how come you made the reservation for Eris and his lover if you’re not attending?” his mother asks.

Ollie's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't make any reservations for them. Did you?”

“No…?”

The two go back inside the basement and interrogate Eris, who is in the middle of deciding what color to make the frosting. Ollie’s father had been assisting with coming up with potential designs for the cake.

“Huh? I didn't make any dinner reservations?” Eris says. “Wait, are those devils letting me go?”

“No. But if you didn't make any reservations, then who is your lover going with?”

“You weren't joking?” Eris's voice goes shrill. His eyes panic jolt all over the place until a particular thought enters his mind. He slaps the palm of his hand against his forehead and groans.

Ollie notices, his own eyes widening in horror. “It's not who I think it is, right?”

“Ah, could it be?” Ollie's mother wonders aloud. Ollie's father tilts his head before his own eyes widen.

“DAMN IT!” Eris roars, slamming a fist on the counter before grabbing the knife and storming towards the door.

Ollie tries to stop him. “Eris, you can't-”

Eris sends the first door flying with one kick. The impact against the parallel wall shatters it instantly. It was only made of mahogany wood so it wouldn't have stood a chance anyway. The rest of the reinforced doors standing in Eris’s way, well…

WOOOO! WOOOO! WOOOO!

The alarm goes off, signaling to the May Devil's security team to come take down their most dangerous prisoner who's on his way to you.

Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why is it always the mahogany…”