Idia + Azul glazer

"my dearest riddle, do you think anyone would be capable of loving you? especially the sweet, innocent yuu? oh sweetie, let me remind you of our unbreakable bond that's existed ever since our fates were etched in the stars!"

the original villain was a crazy admirer of riddle; it was a slow realization that graced your mind while you were in the carriage to the rosehearts manor, which temporarily lifted the boredom fogging your brain. for a brief moment, though, the news didn't come off as a shock to you. please, this was a dating simulator with its focal point being the obsessive and possessive love; it wasn't surprising to see side characters also going into that route.

your dull eyes landed on the hands resting on your thighs, musing at their smallness, and how, when years passed, they would be stained with bloodshed. these same hands had almost crushed riddle's neck, which guided the sword of truth straight into the heart of malleus, molding the world to their desire until there was nothing left of them but a torn torso.

a chuckle of amusement escaped your lips at the morbidity of the situation. you were supposed to feel something when the image of your death replayed clearly inside your head. you could almost feel it, the metallic odor mixed with pechitror as you were left humiliated on the floor.

one of your hands trailed up to twirl around your hair while you began to plan your glorious future. of course, you wouldn't stop being evil magically after having an epiphany. that would be so mundane, to be stripped of your individuality and turned into a goody-two-shoes for the sake of survival. perhaps that was why yuu failed in their attempts to redeem the original counterpart, because their heart was engraved with a wickedness that had become their life source.

you had no plan to 'steal' any love interests, knowing their yandere tendencies would be disruptive to their self-indulgent life of wine and gold. yuu could saddle themselves with several annoying flesh bags, while they would be on the side, surrounded by the loyal servitors and the decadence of desserts.

you could become a helping hand to riddle, allowing him to approach yuu more easily, but that meant putting a target on your back for other love interests. sure, you were an elusive figure in noble society, but that wouldn't stop the deadly schemes of other equally powerful people.

not to mention the biggest issue of this game that could threaten to jeopardize your lazy life, malleus draconia. there was a reason why the original counterpart was allowed to use others as a means to an end, to effectively kill the walking fear of humanity.

one rejection and BAM! whole world would be covered in thorns that lured people into the sweet embrace of dreams, where every one of their desires was fulfilled.

and you, the one who preferred to live in reality and enjoyed the fruits of the effort they spent, loathed that scenario. this was a hard battle to partake in, because your destiny didn't entirely belong to you. it belonged to whoever yuu would choose as their life partner.

every option sounded like absolute bullshit to you; your best gambit would be to drag every single love interest away from yuu and leave them alone with malleus. and that was impossible, considering the bloated amount of them, and what power did you have to prevent the mysterious ways fate worked?

if only you could prevent yuu from coming here…

that was another thought to consider.

for now, you had to ensure you were, at the very least, in the rosehearts' good side. you had no intention of acting all dainty and kind with riddle, in front of his parents maybe, but certainly not to the degree the main character showered him with.

all these digital people, destinies written by grubby hands of capitalism, weren't worthy of your love. they were only worthy of salvation, one that could be granted if they listened to you.

this was why you were determined to keep a good distance from riddle, not exactly friends, but certainly business partners to work with in the future. after all, his parents' marriage was one such prime example; it would be no big deal for him.

his fantasies of true love? oh well, you would have to let them disappear over time with the correct push. you could try matchmaking him with another person, but considering your character, your pursuit of becoming a cupid would end badly.

the carriage came to a halt right after you hummed to yourself about your marvelous mind. you hopped out without any assistance, barely sparing the guards a glance as you glanced at the towering gates.

a certain coldness oozed out from them, already signalling the caged atmosphere that would bite you in the throat the moment you entered.

the appearance of your father was nothing short of casual, a few fix-ups to his hair before whistling and offering a hand to you, at which you scoffed. the notion of receiving this man's affection was far more ridiculous than the things you had to do to ensure your flourishing survival.

the gates opened shortly afterwards, with two lines of maids and servants greeting you politely. your eyes observed your surroundings, mentally noting down the neatly trimmed rose bushes and the checkered patterns that seemed to accompany the signature red of the rosehearts household.

passing by the fountain, you were allowed entry into the manor, which was no larger than yours, and like your expectations, the air was heavy.

your father wasted no time in flattering mrs, rosehearts, much to your dismay, as your eyes landed on the figure you had been thinking of.

little riddle rosehearts, why so small even?

you bit your lips, covering your mouth with one of your hands to prevent the upcoming onslaught of snorting at the tiny height of the red-haired boy. his mother had insisted on him growing up on a healthy diet, and yet, he was even shorter than you, who was considered short by medical standards.

"greetings, i am riddle rosehearts. it is a pleasure to meet you, lord [name] von sommerstern" riddle performed a deliberate bow, carrying a trained rigidity unexpected from that of a child. someone did his homeworks flawlessly. you stopped your laughter to mimic his gesture while introducing yourself. such a status meant nothing in this world, where magic determined your powers.

this was another predicament of yours, a backdrop of this game's setting: the original you bore no magic. it was a well-kept secret that even the intels from the abyssal depths of the coral sea couldn't find out about. that was another reason behind your thirst for power, to prove that a magicless person like you could still pull the strings, forcing others into doing all the dirty work. in a way, you served as a foil to yuu, who was also magicless. but instead of going down a villainous path, they utilized the power of love, which was said to be the greatest of all. that might be a useful piece of information, but you were more focused on being prim and proper before mrs. rosehearts.

speaking of the devil, she took an instant liking to you, from your polished smile to the deferential bow. everything was flawless in her eyes, and you could almost imagine the fury she would unleash on the world were she to find out about your little secret.

you bit back a laugh.

your father, being himself again, suggested for the two of you get to know each other better, while he would have a business talk with mrs. rosehearts. he winked at your departure, as though to ensure his utter seriousness this time.

you wished your mother were still alive. but then again, she also chose your father as her spouse. maybe the lack of brain cells was hereditary.

that was how you found yourself in the vast wonderland maze of the roseheart' manor. unlike your dukedom, the garden took up much more space, and carried a more vital meaning to their name, hence the careful way each gardener worked. you wondered through the grasses in silence with riddle, who hadn't uttered a word since the introduction. you couldn't blame him for not being talkative, since if your memories served you correctly, it had only been recently that his mother forbade him from social contact with anyone outside the manor.

however, for the sake of both of the futures, (you were going to drag him in this regardless; he was your fiancé), you couldn't prolong the quietness.

"what's your favorite pastime activity?" a smile tugged your lips as you lay on the grass underneath the parasol a helpful servant had set up. you basked in the shade lazily like a cat, eyes closed shut as you turned to riddle's side with an expectant gaze.

"..why would you ask me that?" others might take him as standoffish, but you instantly picked up on the slight nervousness in his voice. it was unbelievable that this was a time bomb, awaiting a spark to set it ablaze. you quirked your eyebrows, resting your head on your clasped hands.

"we are engaged, aren't we? as future spouses, it's normal for us to know each other more!" you chirped sweetly, [eye's color] eyes twinkled with a real sense of joy. it was, at the very least, convincing to riddle, who gripped his book more tightly. you knew how to take advantage of the lighting and how it would accentuate your deceptively innocent appearance. a kid was still a kid, and riddle was no exception to that, no matter how mature he was.

"you are correct, my apologies. my favorite pastime activity would be..." he hesitated for a while, causing you to trace circles on the evergreen of the ground.

"....studying." mrs. rosehearts needed to go; that was your final decree as you heard the answer.

"really? how interesting!" you responded, noticing the way his face stiffened. establishing a distance was great in this scenario, let him believe that you were unable to comprehend his misery, let him feel alone, and let that fester into something that helped you two remain as business partners. one of the most critical mistakes the main characters usually made in other novels you skimmed through was their pity for the love interests' tragic backstories. due to their position as readers, they automatically understood them, which caused the storyline to derail swiftly.

allow him the privilege to think you were just like any other noble, just a mere fiance that would marry him as a means to an end. after all, it was for the greater good, a union of convenience that he had learnt from his parents. maybe when he grew older, you would pretend to be more empathetic towards him, so that would disrupt the supposed events leading to him meeting yuu. it was all according to the plan, pushing and pulling, like a yo-yo.

"i wish to be as hardworking as you!" another lie, as though your obedience towards tutors was nothing. riddle seemed to be a bit less stiff now, drinking in the praise directed at him. but it would never satisfy him; you knew it so clearly: his longing to be seen as a genuine person beneath all those strict rules imposed on him.

that was yuu's job, not yours, obviously!

the rest of the day was spent in total boredom, as riddle mostly spoke of politics and the history of his bloodline.

apparently, he also carried royalty in his blood, but it had been generations since a crown had rested on their heads. you were quite jealous of him, to carry some semblance of power even since birth. unfortunately for you, you were the descendant of some court jester who lived in an ancient prince's shadow.

there was no use dwelling on the past, as you took a stroll around the garden, wandering through a complex path system with riddle as your guide. he took the lead, unsurprisingly, in helping you get to know your future house better.

your hands rested unconsciously on his shoulders when your head turned around, indifferent to the extreme ways the servants were forced to preserve the plants. you were supposed to take pride in how much easier your maids had it when you remembered the usual tantrums you threw there and then

your train of wicked thoughts, of having a maid accompany you next time, to see how lenient she was under your reign, prevented you from noticing the ever-growing blush on the boy's face. frankly, even if you had paid attention to that detail you deemed insignificant, you would merely glance at him coldly.

after all, he acted more like a resting stool for you, and certainly did remind you of one!

when it was time for your departure, with your father rudely (!) dragging you back by the arms, you bid your farewell to riddle, with that same bow. you had made a good first impression on him; you knew it. although seeing the way his face slightly dampened when you told him you had to leave set off an alarm in you.

curse stupid game's setting! you had to make sure to weed out those seeds of affection at the next meeting! had it not been for your sharp awareness that this was your reality and you were living in it, you would have brushed off his oddity as childhood flutters; that the love interests were hard-wired to love yuu only. however, it was best to take precautions, and you had no interest in gaining a friend as dangerous as riddle.

the carriage rolled its wheels as your head rested against the glass window. your eyes were glued shut onto the moving ground, hands folded neatly against your thighs. a sigh of boredom escaped your lips again, as the previous issue had yet to be solved. how could you survive in the future when there were multiple walking time bombs? your mind drifted to the realm of memories, searching every crook and cranny for that loophole. the game opened up with the scene of yuu being transported into the book by grim, and theoretically, you could get rid of that feline creature to prevent the arrival of the main character. however, grim was a fragment of the book itself, born from the desperation to grant its miserable characters a better life. as though a lightbulb was turned on in your head as you promptly straightened up.

you could try improving these love interests via therapy!

but that fell onto another problem: stealing yuu's destiny partially, although you wouldn't classify them as a therapist, considering such a job required strict professionalism.

which also meant you could open up a therapeutic service in the future as an anonymous sponsor, and search for people with solid knowledge in said fields!

how could you ensure the possibility of every love interest successfuly go to therapy then? another issue emerged. you could use your influence to expand the advertisement, but that would make it too obvious.

kidnap them? only a fool would do that! you were a bore, not a maniac.

your fingers curled around your hair, threatening to pull it out without the presence of your father.

you were absolutely, royally, utterly, completely, totally, and entirely FUCKED!

being transported to another world was already terrifying. being transported to another world filled with magic, monsters, and students who all seemed far more confident than you somehow made it worse. from the moment you arrived at nrc, words became your greatest enemy. every introduction turned into a struggle. every sentence seemed to trip over itself before it could leave your mouth. you'd start speaking only to get flustered halfway through, lose your train of thought, and end up staring at the floor while desperately trying to remember what you were saying. it was embarrassing, especially when everyone around you seemed so self-assured. unfortunately for you, your awkwardness ended up making quite the impression.

Riddle Rosehearts

riddle initially assumes you're simply nervous because of your situation. considering you'd been dragged into an entirely different world, he finds it understandable. however, the first time you attempt to introduce yourself and spend nearly thirty seconds trying to get through your own name without stumbling over it, he finds himself unexpectedly caught off guard. you look so genuinely determined to speak despite your nerves that he can't bring himself to be annoyed. instead, he starts waiting patiently whenever you struggle. if someone interrupts you or tries to rush you, he'll immediately correct them. "allow them to finish." over time, he finds your shy mannerisms strangely endearing, though he'd sooner overblot again than admit it out loud. secretly, he becomes someone who listens carefully whenever you speak because he knows how much effort it takes for you to get the words out.

Leona Kingscholar

leona notices your habit almost immediately. at first, he thinks you're just intimidated by nrc. then he realizes you stammer even when speaking to grim. the discovery amuses him far more than it should. he'll occasionally watch you struggle through a sentence with half-lidded eyes, waiting to see if you'll make it to the end. yet despite teasing you occasionally, he never does it maliciously. in fact, if someone else laughs at you, his mood immediately sours. over time, leona becomes surprisingly patient. he'll wait through every awkward pause and unfinished sentence without complaint. sometimes he'll even finish your thought for you after spending enough time around you. the first time he correctly guesses what you were trying to say, you're so shocked that you forget to stutter entirely. leona never lets you live that down.

Azul Ashengrotto

azul completely misunderstands the situation at first. he assumes you're hiding something. every time you stumble over your words, he becomes convinced you're carefully choosing what information to reveal. then one day he watches you spend an entire minute trying to ask where a notebook went before accidentally mixing up half the words in the sentence. suddenly everything clicks. you're not calculating. you're just shy. the realization changes everything. azul finds himself becoming surprisingly gentle whenever you get flustered. he never points it out directly because he knows that would only make things worse. instead, he waits patiently and allows you to gather your thoughts. deep down, he relates more than he'd like to admit. after all, he knows exactly what it's like to feel self-conscious every time you speak.

Jamil Al-Asim

jamil notices your nervous habits long before anyone else. years of observing people have made him excellent at reading body language. he quickly realizes that whenever attention shifts toward you, your shoulders tense and your words start tripping over each other. unlike some of the others, he never teases you about it. if anything, he quietly helps. when you lose your train of thought, he'll calmly wait. if someone interrupts, he'll redirect the conversation back toward you. he understands how exhausting it can be to constantly feel watched or judged. eventually, talking around him becomes easier because you know he isn't going to pressure you. jamil ends up becoming one of the few people you can speak to without feeling like every word is a battle.

Kalim Viper

kalim thinks you're adorable. that's it. that's the entire problem. the first time you get flustered and accidentally trip over your words, he smiles so brightly that it only makes you more embarrassed. yet unlike people who might tease you, kalim simply finds your nervousness endearing. he never gets frustrated when you struggle to speak. in fact, he's probably the most enthusiastic listener imaginable. every time you manage to finish a sentence, he reacts as though you've delivered the greatest speech in history. "really? that's so cool!" the positivity helps more than he realizes. before long, you find yourself talking a little more around him because you know he'll always respond with encouragement. kalim never sees your stuttering as something embarrassing. to him, you're just you, and that's more than enough.

Vil Schoenheit

vil notices your nervousness almost immediately. at first, he assumes it's simply because you've been thrown into an entirely different world. however, after watching you spend nearly a full minute trying to ask a simple question before getting flustered and losing your train of thought halfway through, he realizes this is just how you are. surprisingly, he doesn't find it annoying. if anything, he finds it a little sad. not because you're shy, but because he can see how much you overthink every word before speaking. the first few times he catches you apologizing for stumbling over your sentences, he immediately stops you. "why are you apologizing?" he asks. when you awkwardly explain that people sometimes get frustrated waiting for you to finish speaking, vil's expression softens ever so slightly. "then they're the problem, not you." it's one of the first genuinely kind things he says to you, and it completely catches you off guard. after that, vil becomes surprisingly patient whenever you talk. he never rushes you, never interrupts, and never allows anyone else to make fun of you for it either. in fact, if someone tries, they're immediately met with one of his infamous looks. over time, he starts encouraging you to be more confident, not by forcing you into uncomfortable situations, but by reminding you that your words are worth hearing no matter how long it takes to say them. the first time you manage to speak your mind without stumbling, vil notices immediately. he doesn't make a huge deal out of it. instead, a small smile appears on his face and he simply says, "see? that wasn't so difficult." yet the pride in his voice makes you feel warmer than any grand compliment ever could.

Idia Shroud

idia practically recognizes a fellow sufferer. the first time he watches you try to introduce yourself and nearly combust from embarrassment halfway through, he immediately thinks, "oh, they're one of my people! ssr rate pull icl.." unlike everyone else, he completely understands the panic of social interaction. if anything, the two of you end up accidentally making each other more nervous. conversations between you sometimes become a disaster of awkward pauses, stuttering, and mutual panic. yet somehow that's exactly why idia feels comfortable around you. there's no pressure to be confident when neither of you knows what you're doing. he secretly finds it reassuring that someone else understands the struggle.

one key thing to know about you: you were weird.

this was not said without concrete proof. everyone, even the most uneducated commoners, knew how eccentric the sole heir to the von sommerstern bloodline was.

in contrast to the major belief that you were a rebellious child who couldn't be disciplined, your academic performance was surprisingly great, far surpassing your fellow eight-year-old peers.

that was where the oddity of your existence began, or rather, was displayed more clearly, the same intelligence that garnered you praises from fastidious tutors.

your hands seemed to never stay still, managing to grapple with things that were meant to be far out of your reach.

there was one time, when you somehow slipped into the kitchen, seemingly marvelling at the cooking of the maids. when they were done with preparing elevenses, they were shocked to find out that a baking soda pack and a whole bottle of vinegar had vanished from the shelves.

safe to say, everyone knew promptly where to look, and when they arrived in your room, the sight was nothing short of bewilderment to them.

there you were, sitting on the floor with those same eyes that bore a certain detachment to the world, watching in extreme boredom as your doll vomited white liquid from its lips.

when you were questioned, you answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"i'm turning my doll into a volcano."

your father, after hearing this from the servants, had let out a boisterous laugh in amusement.

speaking of him, the man who had partially contributed to your existence, as you put it, the earliest memories you had of him were how he allowed your nonscenecial whims to run wild. from disrespecting an antique portrait of your great-ancestors, to acting like a lifeless doll on a balcony (which terrified the guests), there was nothing that could anger him.

well, except for outright insulting your late mother, but had half of a mind not to do so.

mind, not empathy.

additionally, in that soft voice which always carried a tone of apathy, you spoke of the strangest things no child at that age could fathom.

it wasn't delusional like wishing to be in a fairytale; it was worse than that, or at the very least, according to the prim and proper maids who knew nothing but obedience and salary.

your first reaction, upon witnessing a flying carriage land in the front yard of your mansion, wasn't of awe or surprise. instead, it was uttered in a jaded timbre.

"airplanes could do that, no need for applause."

"young master, what is an airplane?"

"do i look like i know?"

the maid didn't respond, fearing the way your eyebrows rose, as though questioning her curiosity.

in that household, the only one permitted to be curious, to be both smart and yet terrifyingly lacking in emotional affairs, was you and you alone.

"father, have you heard of [country's name]?"

"is that another one of your novel's locations?" the porcelain teacup was promptly thrown at him, and unsurprisingly, he caught it effortlessly. you didn't seem guilty about it, instantly returning to the book you were holding, with a gentleness reserved for non-sentient objects, not the people around you.

you were violent, quick to resort to physical acts when things weren't going your way. hidden by that small frame was an unexpected sheer strength, enough to be able to knock down servants in your tantrums.

it wasn't like you were dumb enough not to be aware of your notorious reputation; you were different from others, and you thrived off it.

you knew your father wouldn't forbid you, the servants too meek to stop you, toys unable to cry out in pain during the torturous sessions you put them through. all in the name of entertainment, of trying to find what could elicit an honest feeling from you.

you were a weird child, and that would continue, even after regaining the memories of your past life.

it was an embarrassing memory to dwell on, but an essential milestone nonetheless.

dull eyes watched as orange and gold spilled onto the blue canvas of the sky, marking the end of another repetitive day. that shadow stretched across the grass didn't move, even when utterances of its name rang from afar. inside its palms was a broken shard of a door's mirror, something the clumsy new recruit had failed to fetch. its eyes gazed at the reflection, seeing someone that wasn't a shadow.

'i shouldn't head home.' it, or rather, you hummed in your throat when you sat up. you squeezed your hand tight and watched as red tainted the neatly trimmed green cushioning your legs. there was supposed to be pain, a grimace should have appeared on your face, akin to that maid when a shard accidentally cut through her fingers. and yet, you felt nothing, other than your muscles prevented you from going farther.

this mind, wanted to die, something the body vehemently opposed.

or maybe you were a coward, unable to let go of the biological instincts that chained you to this world.

maybe this body never belonged to you; fate had its weird way of tormenting even the most indifferent souls. you wouldn't grant it satisfaction, letting out a cheerful chuckle as you released the blood-stained shard. your tongue flickered out to lick the wound, disgusted at the iron taste flooding your taste buds. you recalled tomes, collecting dust in the library, that detailed how honey faes' blood tasted, or how beastpeople tasted spicier than normal. you envied them, truly, for their magical capabilities and how they could enjoy the taste of their blood were they to bleed.

embarrassingly, as though loathing you for being unaffected by the surroundings, fate decided to twirl one of its strings on the vast fabric of life.

and made you fucking trip.

over nothing.

at the moment, memories of your past life flooded in like a broken dam, and they were as stupid as the way you regained them.

you weren't always the apathetic person you presented yourself as in your current life. that would be a wrong notion to take in, without adding that you masked your eccentricity better.

a hypocrite, that word alone summarized your fleeting existence. you were too indifferent to care about others, and yet, too prideful to be looked down on. you loved yourself for not entertaining yourself with trivial matters, like video games, and yet, the competitiveness baked in your blood forced you to always be on the top leaderboard.

you never skipped classes, perfect attendance, decent social circle, but you would rather eat a lightbulb than proclaim your supposed liking towards other human beings,

who could blame you for being such a fake bitch, really?

moreover, there was a more important realization you acquired.

this was no unfamiliar, outlandish universe you were reborn in.

no, this was the world of 'lost in my favorite novel: let's change the genre!'

it was a dating simulator where the main character, yuu, fell asleep after finishing the tragic novel they were reading.

true to its position as the stone to kick off the plot, that original novel was nothing short of... dog blood!

unnecessary angst, prolonged miscommunications, out-of-nowhere plot twists, this novel truly encompassed the worst of mankind in the tragedy genre.

what angered yuu the most was the terribly sad ending their favorite character, malleus had to endure: being slain by the one he considered his brother because of the political manipulation from the humans' side. even worse, the faes were also pushed to extinction after the death of their leader, framing the humans as some sort of saviors reclaiming their lands.

so when yuu found themself becoming a side-character in the novel, with a weird creature named grim, who was revealed to be a fragment of the book's own mind that desperately wished for a rewrite, the duo went around to.....change genre.

pray tell, why was all of that interesting premise thrown aside in favour of the poorly underdeveloped and rushed romance?????

the game's strong point was literally about wooing these tragic figures. how did they fumble that badly in the writing room? did the writers collectively snort cocaine? did they agree to remove their brains for this story?

it was more disappointing because you were slightly interested after seeing a writer, whose creations had been critically acclaimed, in the credits.

damn capitalism and its favor of quantity over quality!

that was also why you decided to speedrun the game, collecting all the merry bad endings before it was EOS.

well, not sleeping for a week straight resulted in your death, pathetically. that was how you came to know those modern terms, your country's name, airplanes: it was a huge sense of deja vu, reminding you of what you truly were.

anyways, what was your role in this god-forsaken game?

the big bad villain.

hailing from a prestigious bloodline, the original you had been spoiled rotten, leading to a total moral decay. they treated everyone badly, in classic villain's style, manipulating the love interests into turning against each other for their own joy.

it was they who were responsible for the death of malleus, and in the end, they died at his hands: head smashed against the cobblestone that led to the entrance of the thorn-ridden castle.

come to think of it, weren't you practically the same as them during childhood? the only difference was that you hadn't touched any major figures.

yet.

when you arrived back at the mansion, equipped with knowledge of the impending doom, you weren't surprised when you heard of your father's summons to his office.

when he held that letter, with a rose encrusted on it, you already knew the words that would spill out from his lips.

the dire engagement with the son of the duke, riddle rosehearts. this was how riddle grew up to be a tyrant; he was always bullied by the original you, which fed into his desire for control, for discipline, something always present during his life, but didn't belong to him.

"it pains me to see their shamelessness, little brat." your father chuckled, tossing the letter into his fireplace after reading it. you didn't respond, clasping your hands as your dull eyes scanned his office room. 'little brat', a nickname he gave you upon the many troubles you had caused. despite his words, you had already know his answer.

yes.

according to the novel, or the game itself, the reason why grand duke von sommerstern accepted the proposal,

for the blissfully unaware rosehearts family, they had secured a connection to one of the most powerful households of twisted wonderland, and a collasal fortune.

for your family though, it meant you got another toy to play with.

"try not to break him, or else you will cost me this house." he laughed coldly.

his warmth was only reserved for your mother, after all.

perhaps that was why the original you was such a heartless person; how could one be capable of love, when the sole form they experienced it, was an eternal frigidity.

"yes, father!" you chirped delightfully. tomorrow, he would come to visit, a perfect chance for you to try changing the ridiculous ending your future self had.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Rollo Flamme

"It's not that bad," you told him,

"It's only temporary!" you pleaded,

"It could've been a lot worse!" you groveled.

Rollo only grabs you by the wrist and drags you into his room, locking and barring the door behind him.

"The others hear not a word of this," he says, sitting at his desk and pulling a potionology book from the top shelf.

For hours (and what feels like an eternity), he skims through antidotes and antivenoms, searching every crevice of the yellowed pages for something potent enough to reverse the effects of the potion.

For hours (and what feels like an eternity), you nap.

It's near dark when you wake, and he's in the same place, muttering profanities and flipping through pages.

You would turn over and go back to sleep, but the rhythmic movements of his quill feather scribbling notes on a piece of scrap paper is... strangely hypnotic.

You find yourself crawling out of bed to attack (discreetly, like a true hunter), batting at the feather from under the desk.

"What the- Prefect!" Rollo scolds, moving his paper and quill to the other side of the desktop.

Two seconds later... fwifwifwip.

"Prefect, control yourself!"

He moves again, keeping a wary eye on his quill...

...And then, while his back is turned, you slap his inkwell off the table.

"PREFECT!!!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Fellow Honest

[Fellow voice] "Guess we're doing cat ears now".

Like I could not emphasize enough how much it wouldn't matter to him at all. He would see the ears and tail and go, "Huh. Was that there before?" and then have a full couch nap with you curled up in his lap before remembering that you aren't a beastman.

...Guess he forgot?

I mean, you're so much a part of his life now that you may as well be. And Gidel looks up to you like a big sibling, so cat features fit the bill.

Anyway his second comment is that you should commit as much crime as possible before changing back, because then the police would be looking for a beastman and never track you down.

(You politely decline).

And then he uses you to guilt Rollo into buying everyone a fish dinner.

Best part, though? The cuddles.

Obviously.

Tiny cat beastman under one arm, big cat beastman under the other, both you and Gidel using him for his body heat... the combined purring is powerful enough to shake the house.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Skully J. Graves

I don't think Skully could ever dislike anything about you.

It's you we're talking about, after all- whatever you are, were, or will be, he loves, because he loves you.

Cat today? Well, why not!

Every day you get weirder is a blessing to Skully J. Graves.

And cats are an iconic symbol of the Halloween season, don't you know? The perfect combination of spooky, cute, and chilling. An omen of bad luck... which, to him, is good luck!

Cross his path as many times as you'd please, dear omen of death!

You can't kill what's already dead, after all!

Could also imagine him using those scraps of cloth at the ends of his coat to play with you... not that you could ever catch him, he IS a ghost, after all, but it is ever so fun...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Swing

You know how some people pet dogs/cats by putting their whole fucking hand on the thing's head and pulling it back? Yeah that's Swing.

He does it with Grim too.

Not that he can't be gentle, he just actively chooses not to (ragebaiting is one of his favorite pastimes!)

At least on you (and not poor Grim), the pressure feels nice.

...Kind of like if the relief from a massage hit all at once.

Yeah, these are those good kinds of pets, the kind that make you push your head up and arch your back into each stroke for more.

He's strangely calm for those few hours of quiet petting, as if fascinated by you- testing your reactions to every poke and prod at your new body.