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xviiper-rents-houses · 3 months ago

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Some of you may have noticed that I changed the title from "The Lovers," to "The Boyfriends." Reason being is that I found a fic that was posted WAYY earlier than mine entitled "The Lover."

I wanna make sure the writer's fic isn't confused with mine because that would not be a fun situation. I didn't realize this fic existed until I scrolled through the tag and was like: "oops!"

Other than that, all's well!

The Boyfriends:

Some self indulgence— again. School's getting a lil' trickier so I decided to write something to help out with my anxiety. Lemme know if you guys like it! There are two characters of mine here, just wrote them up. If you guys want to submit fanart or ask in character questions about them, feel free to! (P.S. I would love fanart! It's always so cool to see what people think of your writing and then play around with the description and make something outta it)!

Reader is referred to as you/your pronouns, as well as they/them.

TW: Yandere behavior; stalking, possessiveness, obsessiveness, killing, animal killing/abuse, degradation, threatening, killing family members. Murder is said blatantly but, not described in detail.

Short drabble:

Here in the big city, you had found yourself a comfortable place to live. It had all the necessary amenities; bed, bathroom, kitchen (that also served as your dining room) and since you had an extra room, you decided to let that become your office. You managed to strike a good bargain for your home, being able to pay the bills by yourself and without straining yourself over many jobs. Here in the big city, you were comfortable.

You weren't alone in your place. You had neighbors. You lived in an apartment complex at a busy intersection, so many people came and went. Moved in, moved out. More and more neighbors moved into the apartment complex you chose to live in because of the good costs and many moved out because of the quality of neighbors. Some of them were elderly and other middle aged. And a new pack of young neighbors disrupted and caused a major move. Besides that, all, for the most part, were kind, welcoming, even bringing you baked goods, as well as inviting you over to just learn about who you were.

You told them what you felt mattered and were comfortable with talking about. It would seem you left a good impression, since you were invited out a lot more. Your life was comfortable. Until you had new neighbors. Not just any new neighbors. A youthful couple that had moved in next door had caused quite a ruckus in the stark hours of the night. You didn't want to imply their actions but, it was getting to a point where you struggled to sleep. They were too loud. You felt very aggravated and just...wanted it to stop.

And so, the next morning, you knocked on their door. The day you knocked was the day you didn't have work, giving you time to take care of personal matters such as self expenses and maybe bills and perhaps, something that was fun. The door opened after a five minute wait, two heads poking out and what looked to be paint on their face. You narrowed your eyes to get a closer look.

No, it actually looked like blood. Oh God. Were your new neighbors actually serial killers? Had they moved in and decided to start their own horror film? Come to think of it, Meemaw Stacie, an elderly woman who baked you oatmeal raisin cookies every Saturday, had been missing for the past two weeks. She mentioned that she was going to go on vacation. But, that was only for three days. You felt your stomach knot and heart drop all the way down your chest and it must have shown on your face because that door slammed shut.

You stared at it for a good long while, thinking. Just what happened? Were you that scared? What about that thought of Meemaw Stacie? You didn't want to believe or assume but, now you were noticing a fowl smell coming from just under that door. You were about to turn around, leave and rush to your apartment. To trust your gut. To run and call the police, shout out for help or anything— then the door opened, again. You yelped when your hand was snagged out of nowhere, pulling you back.

I don't want to die! I don't want to go next! Please, just let me go! You weren't sure what you said exactly but it all meant the same thing: freedom. And just when you were about to sound the alarm, a hand softly sealed your lips and you got a better look at the new couple. There were no more red stains, there wasn't an odor anymore and everything seemed fine. Aside from...the shorter one, who appeared to be a thin male, having smeared ash on his face.

"It's not what you think!"

Sure looked like it. Now, who said that? It wasn't the shorter man. No, it was the taller man, who was by appearance's definition; a jock. The little man was ducked low, keeping your mouth shut with his hand and the taller man was holding your hand, keeping you in place. This was an uncomfortable situation, you could not stop breathing so quickly.

"Please, we were just preparing some beef tender."

You barely relaxed, easing up just a little bit when your mouth was free. The little man had shrunk his hand away but, his wide, crystal blue eyes didn't break their gaze. The taller man did not let go, he kept his grip. Why would you have blood all over your face if you're just cooking meat? Why did it smell so bad? You frowned, managing to tear yourself free from the strong man's grip and jump away for just some space. Something wasn't adding up; that couple's story just didn't make sense. It looked like they washed their faces and changed in a hurry.

"You don't believe us, do you?"

The little man walked out, his boyfriend trying to step in but, quickly, he was ushered aside. You looked down at the little kan. His pants were white. You were expecting them to be covered in blood. All you saw was a small man with icy blue eyes, white pants and a comfortable sweater. That sweater was a periwinkle pink, words embroidered, "Cute AF." Interesting choice of style, you thought. But that did not make you feel anymore comfortable around these peculiar neighbors. Their actions were obtuse.

"Damien, couldn't you have waited," the tall man who had a vice-like grip on your hand, asked, chiding his lover. Damien was the man in the periwinkle pink sweater. "You're being rude. For God's sake, you slammed your hand over their mouth!"

"I don't see anything we can't fix here. They (you) just have a problem with us, right? Were we being too loud?" Damien brushed off all the allegations, treating them as if it were only child's play. His voice was sickly sweet, too sweet. Damien's face looked...fake. Not genuine. You couldn't quite place it.

Slowly, though, you nodded. Yes, they were being too loud. You nodded, again. Yes, you wanted them to be quieter. They stared at you, oddly. Like they were communicating something through a secret language of movement. Damien, the only name you knew him by as of right now, tilted his head left and right, studying you like a painting. His boyfriend rested his chin in his hand, temple creasing as he thought over these silent and nonverbal meanings. The air suddenly felt colder. You didn't want to be here anymore.

You backed away, slowly. Your eyes didn't leave them, unsure of what could happen. You knew they were covering up something nasty. The taller moved forward, his frazzled and contemplating attitude replaced with a joyful and open behavior. His arms opened wide and he grinned a bright beautiful smile that anyone would fall for. That anyone would feel oh so comforted by. But not you. You didn't like the way it curled into a Devil's smirk just at the edges. He radiated bad energy.

"Why don't you come back for dinner in two hours? We'd love to have you over, " he said as he took your hands and held them to his chest. Damien squeezed in, planting his hands on your wrists and gripping tightly. You got to study them even more. Damien, he had those same icy blue eyes but freckles over tanned skin that stretched tightly across his face. He looked emaciated. And his boyfriend. He had blonde hair, sunglasses and overall, a muscular build. He looked like if a golden retriever became a man. "I'm Chris by the way, this is Damien, my boyfriend."

As charming as they were trying to come off, they could not erase the events that just happened. You quickly broke off the contact, just wanting to be out of that horrible situation. You didn't catch their looks as you ran down the hall and into your apartment dorm, locking it and deciding to take the fire escape down. Chris and Damien gave each other a shared look. Both smiled in a strange way. You were going to face trouble.

Blurb/headcanons:

Chris and Damien are a couple that recently moved into your same apartment complex. They bounced from their small town to a big city to take on more victims to satisfy their dry feelings of emptiness. Killing seemed to be the only way that brightened up those dull feelings but, with the amount of murders they were committing in that small town, it didn't feel exhilarating anymore— it started to feel like a routine. Plus, they were catching heat. Something had to be done and moving seemed to be the correct way to go about it.

Chris and Damien are madly in love with each other— they make sure to let everyone know that hat, especially when they're on the hunt. Very much yandere x yandere. The boyfriends work well together, killing as many people as they can, with no discernable pattern. The new city gave them new prey to play around with— starting in the lower levels, to mid suburbs and to tackling classic highschool clicks to get a rile out of the police force. But, even that got boring.

That is, until they meet you. That hallway encounter gave them a whole new purpose. Chris and Damien were going to provide for a new friend. A best friend, actually. In their own twisted way. You are the one person that they'll invite over almost daily so they can chat your ears off. You fit the description of the third wheel they wanted, someone that they could help by chasing away any romantic involvement. Chris and Damien decided that right there and then in that hallway, you were going to be a part of their little family. No one was going to get close to their best friend. Not ever.

Chris and Damien protect you and your interests, (well, for what they deem is good in your life). They are stupidly sneaky and manipulative in the way that they stay in your life. Chris is definitely the muscle in the couple, (aka— jelly jar opener) and Damien, the thinker. If you are going to rat them out, complain to your tenant or call the cops, the Lovers are going to track your existing family down and threaten them. Don't play around. Let's say you have a pet; Chris doesn't care how much it hurts you, he will kill it if you complain about himself and his boyfriend.

Damien even celebrates Chris's animal abuse, paying for the remains of that critter to be taxidermied and set on display in THEIR apartment. If YOU want to go see YOUR pet, you will have to knock on The Lovers' door. And if you go over and knock on that door, asking about your pet, they'll let you in and taunt you. "Oh your sweet cat's dead! Don't worry, we put some of the blood in this bottle. They don't call ketchup cat's blood for nothing!" Depending on your reaction, they will laugh at you if you express genuine hurt/sadness. It's just an animal. You've got your friends to comfort you now.

On another note, Chris and Damien are so cynical about their way of keeping you. They lay in bed, plotting out their next kills, (mind you, they have work the next morning as well!) and how to make the perfect targets that'll keep you shut up and compliant. Pets are easy to kill, people as well. Why don't they target an entire friend group that you had in highschool? Damien is howling in laughter and Chris is sneering at the sheer absurdity they'd go through to make a clear point. Those losers weren't actually your friends. You have Chris and Damien, the only friends that you will EVER need.

Chris and Damien aren't kind to you. They are very cruel. Meemaw Stacie had an unfortunate end, not because of you, (well, actually yes because the boyfriends just liked how you looked) but, because she would be their official first kill in this complex. And many more to come. The tenant died after you spoke with him, Chris and Damien made sure to make it a point that they were the ones who did it. But when the heat came on them by the media, their practiced theatrics threw the blame outside the complex and got Chris and Damien off Scott-free.

Less and less people come to live in your complex, the world putting shade on the place and claiming it to be haunted. Now, it was an attraction to gain money. You would wait for the next crew or group of people to come in, ask for help and pray that they would listen. And that Chris and Damien weren't around to keep you from fleeing.

Thank you guys so much for reading! I really hope you guys liked it. I don't see much for platonic yanderes so I figured, “Hey! Why don't I add some more content?” As always, have a good day, drink water, eat food and rest. And the most important thing: write/read fanfiction <3!

(p.s. I didn't know what the <3 meant at first! I thought it was a little alien with its eye closed and doing a cat smile 😭 I thought: :3 = <3 I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS A HEART)!?

#xviiperambles

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