Vocaloid Oliver Novels & Stories

Olivera hums, as though trying to be snarky and yet, I hear the lap of concern in his voice. I wait for him to stop running and set me down before I open my eyes up, seeing a bright white light shift overhead, hands working at my throat and my jaw, the fingertips soft and unfamiliar. Olivera is standing opposite of this rogue, his glare pointed and critical of his every poke and prod around my burning surface.

The first ring… the second… the third… He almost gave up, thinking Avery would never answer. Then, the call connected. “Hello…?” Avery’s voice sounded so weak and hoarse, it was almost a whisper. Oliver immediately put on the sweetest, most pitiable tone he could muster. “Avery, darling, you finally answered. Where are you? Come home, I miss you and our little girl.” He waited for Avery’s reply, a sob, perhaps words of longing. Anything he could use to pull her back. But to Oliver’s astonishment, what he heard next was not his wife’s voice. It was the deep, cold, and menacing voice of a man.

Her will had swallowed mine whole. The chains rattled as I pulled, the cold iron biting into my skin. Pain flashed, but it only made the fury stronger. I wanted out. I needed out. Then I heard it. A voice—steady, low, and rhythmic. Oliver. He was chanting. His words were old, soft, sacred—woven with calm. The sound pierced through the haze, and for a fleeting moment, the storm inside me eased. My breathing slowed. My claws loosened against the stone.

I copied the contact number attached to the profile and called the line; it rang once his nerdy voice came next. “You are on the phone with Robin Code programming service; how may I be of help, please?” "Hi, Rob," I called. “Hello there, who am I on the line with, please?” The voice came again mechanically. “It's Olive.” I introduced myself informally. “Olive? Olive, who, please?" “Olivia Mack." His talking tone immediately switched. "Oh, my God, Olive. I’m so done. A celeb on the phone with me, come on, I got to add this to my CV."

I opened the door and walked inside, Oliver was sitting on a single sofa, he looked angry as he stared at me. “What Have You Done?” He yelled at the top of his lungs and I took back some steps cautiously. “O..Li…V…ER.” I stuttered, scared. “I Am Not Oliver.” He yelled furiously and then his appearance started changing making my eyes pop out in disbelief.

Her hickeys. ___ ((Oliver is getting on my nerves.))

Is it because I am already mature to this type of thing or is it just me lacking about cute stuff? “Take a look at this” Oliver called me by waving his hand from the corner. I went there and I saw what he was looking for. “Wow” was the only thing I could say at this moment. It is a resin from my favorite anime. “Want to buy it?” Oliver asked. I am already fetching my wallet inside my pocket but Oliver stops me. “Let me pay for it.”