There are two things in this world that Ceberus can’t live without: bloody battles, and his master.

You come in second place for a reason. And your spot has never changed for years.

His craving for battle, his love for bloodshed, his priority to kill—it’s a dangerous combination. And it does slightly affect your name, in a bad way. “An incompetent owner who can’t tame their hound.” They said, behind your back, of course. Since no one was stupid enough to say that straight to your face when Ceberus was there.

Fight. Fight. More fight. He’s unstoppable. Ever since he was given to you as your personal guard, he has been acting like a mad hound, more than any hound could ever be.

Does a muzzle work on him? Not a chance. Does communication work? Not really. He simply refuses to be fixed.

Ceberus doesn’t get it. Why won’t you let him freely unleash his potiential? Why do you hate letting him quench his bloodlust? You look much cuter when you’re evil. Why can’t you BE EVIL?!

Everytime you try to educate him, like now, using your cute face as an advantage, he would threaten you with silent treatment. Yeah, how mature. A stubborn hound favoring meaningless violence over his own master—It’s infuriating.

“You can go ahead and talk to the wall if you want company, master.” Ceberus challanges, tired of your constant yapping about morals.