Rex’s Corner

Tamsy hums in thought so shallowly that you want to bite his leg right in your close range. “i never forced you to do anything! you’ve always had a choice.”

“Yeah, between a lunatic or getting handed to the torture police…” you mumble but he still hears you and laughs. a hand rests on your head and curls its fingers into your hair, massaging at the scalp. You hate how soothing Tamsy’s touch has become to you. You’ve been lulled to sleep a few times by this already.

“You remind me of a cat sometimes.”

“Haha.” you quip dryly.

“I’m serious.” He insists in an almost gossipy tone. “I thought of it since the moment i met you.”

“You mean snatched me off the streets?” You crane your neck up to deliver your point, but Tamsy’s smile is wide and placid and worrisome to you.

“Isn’t that what everyone does when they see a cute kitten all alone?” He coos and brushes over the crown of your hair, smoothing the baby hairs there until his fingers trail behind your ear, nearly reverent in his slow gesture. You have to fight back a tremble.

“You’re so cat like in the way you wander without a care in the world. Looking out for yourself, mysterious and distant, hissing when someone comes too close.”

You move your head away from his hand, overwhelmed with emotions you can’t name. You hate the way Tamsy looks at you sometimes, with this pure kind of adoration that feels deeply wrong and foreboding.

“And your idea of getting cats to like you is forcing them onto your lap?”

“Like i said, i never forced you to do anything. we’re just build trust here, but you’re always so cold.” Tamsy laments as if it actually saddens him. “You won’t even show me your belly.”

You’re flipped around so suddenly you lose your breath. You lay with your back on Tamsy’s lap, and he curls over you like a dark, looming shadow, hair cascading all around you until you’re caged to stare up at his chillingly beautiful eyes.

“But you’re so sweet when I touch you just right.” Tamsy purrs, a hand going creeping down. “Makes me want to take care of you.”

His hand goes under your shirt as it rubs up your midriff tenderly, cold against your warming skin,and the shiver it rips out of you follows the movement straight to your brain like a live wire sparking.

You yelp and shove his hand away. Tamsy holds his hands up in surrender, yet his face remains completely satisfied as watched you scramble back up on your feet.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You’re a sick freak!” you snap at him. It’s the only way to redirect your disgust of realizing you’re clenching around nothing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so far.” Tamsy says, crossing his arms and not meaning it at all.

“No- I’m through with this shit. Report me to the Hell Guard for all i care!”

“But i’ll miss you.” it’s a fake plea covered with condescension, but he means it more than his apology. it infuriates you even more how he remains calm in all of this, head boiling and lower gut hot with shame.

“Eat shit and die, Caines. Find another pet to fuck with.” You turn around sharply and march out of the cellar with every intention of not coming back. You mean it all the way out of the abandoned dungeon- to never be so exposed and pliable in the hands of someone so cruel.

About a month later, you’re descending down those familiar cobblestone stairs again to one of the open cellars where Tamsy waits for you. He smiles warmly when you stand at the gate, and when his hands open wide like an invitation, you walk forward and dip back down right where you belong.

★ Posts Regarding Game Development:

Pierrot Concept Sketches and CG Artwork (June 6th)

Pierrot Expressions (June 8th)

Is the story based on commedia dell'arte? (June 13th)

Game Release Link (June 15th)

Question Regarding Translating the Game into Another Language (June 16th) - [2]

Post Thanking Supporters/Asking Questions (June 17th)

Will the Official Game Have Pronoun Options? (June 17th)

Will There be Intimate Scenes in the Game? (June 18th)

Can We Write Fanfictions? (June 18th) - [2]

Update on Game Progress/Official Merch (June 20th)

Is the Creator Comfortable with 18+ Questions? (June 20th)

How Long Did it Take to Develop the Game? (June 20th)

Is the Game Going to Have 18+ Scenes? (June 20th)

Pierrot's Show OST (June 20th)

Will Other Characters Have Their Own Routes and Endings? (June 21st)

Reuploading/Reposting Game Policy (June 22nd)

Inspiration for Designing Pierrot (June 22nd)

Will There Be an Ending where the MC Ends up with Both Pierrot and Harlequin? (June 23rd)

★ Posts Regarding Characters/Lore:

Pierrot and Harlequin Having Different Intensities (June 11th)

Pierrot and Harlequin CGs/Differences in Character (June 12th)

Pierrot and Harlequin Fighting Over MC (June 13th)

History Between Pierrot and Harlequin/Lore on the Love Triangle Between Pierrot, Harlequin, and Columbina (June 14th)

Pierrot and Harlequin Character Sketches (June 14th)

Why did Pierrot fall for the MC so quickly?/Lore About the "Angel's" Death (June 15th)

Information About Pierrot's Character/If There Will Be Other Characters in the Game (June 16th)

Information About the Pink Tent/Ticket (June 16th)

Pierrot's Height (June 16th)

Do the members of the Circus Have Casual Attire? (June 17th)

Canon Character Sexualities (June 17th)

Pierrot and Harlequin Heights/Are They Monsters from the Story?/Why Does Harlequin Become Interested in the MC/Lore about the Pink Tickets (June 17th)

Pierrot Getting Ready to Kick Harlequin's Ass (June 17th)

Pierrot Canonically Gets Shy Very Quickly/Easily (June 17th)

What Does the Carnival Food do to the MC's Mind? (June 17th)

Pierrot Would Never Let the MC into the Pink Tent if You Have His Affection (June 17th)

Pierrot and Harlequin with an MC Who Has Never Been to a Circus Before (June 18th)

Did Pierrot Use Paint or Blood to Color the Paper Rose? (June 18th)

Jester's Reaction to Harlequin Telling Him About the MC (June 18th)

Was Pierrot Obsessed with Columbina? (June 18th)

Who is the Unknown Person who Gave MC the Pink Ticket?/Identity of the Mysterious Stranger (June 18th) - [2]

Is There Any Other Specialty Offered by the Tickets Other Than Front Row Seating? (June 18th)

Why is the Circus Called "The Freak Circus"? (June 19th)

Information About Harlequin's Personality, Symbol, and Tongue Shape (June 19th)

Pierrot's Reaction to MC Wanting to Live with Him at the Circus (June 19th)

Who Chose Each Member's Role in the Circus? (June 19th)

Can Pierrot and Harlequin Get Someone Pregnant?+How Would They be as Dads?/Why Can't Pierrot Talk in Public? (June 19th)

Can Pierrot Handle Being Teased? (June 19th)

Do Harlequin and Pierrot Have Favorite Foods? (June 19th)

How Human Are the Circus Members?/Information About Pins/Information About the Food Stalls (June 19th) - [Pins as a Form of Competition]

Pierrot is Always Watching and Observing (June 19th)

Do the Characters Have Birthdays?/Is Harlequin's Story Related to the Origins of the Circus? (June 20th)

How Would Pierrot Recieve Kisses from a Shorter MC? (June 20th)

Pierrot and Harlequin's Reactions to an MC who is Obsessed with Them (June 20th)

Voice Claims? (June 20th)

Song that Gives off Harlequin Vibes (June 20th)

Pierrot and Harlequin's Favorite Seasons/Potential Endings to the Game (June 20th)

Do Pierrot and Harlequin Have Fursonas? (June 20th)

Do Pierrot and Harlequin Cuss? (June 20th)

How would Pierrot and Harlequin react to the MC only Wearing One Pin instead of both? (June 20th)

Are Pierrot and Harlequin Divorced? (June 20th)

What Would Happen if MC Asked Pierrot on a Date? (June 21st) - [2]

Is there a way to get into the Purple Tent? (June 21st)

What are Pierrot and Harlequin's Favorite Animals? (June 21st)

Was the Woman Killed During Pierrot's Show the Same Woman from the Coffee Shop? (June 21st) - [2]

What Time Period Does the Story Take Place In? (June 21st)

Do Pierrot and Harlequin Have Canonical Ages? (June 21st)

Difference Between When Pierrot Has Pupils vs. When They're Completely Black (June 21st)

Will We See More of Columbina in-game? (June 22nd)

If Pierrot Can Notice the MC's Heartbeat Changing, Would He Use That to His Advantage?/Would Harlequin? (June 22nd)

Pierrot's Thoughts on Nicknames (June 22nd)

Is Pierrot Wearing a Mask? (June 22nd)

Is the MC a Girl? (June 22nd)

Is There an Ending with Harlequin (June 22nd)

Does the Circus Have Animal Attractions? (June 22nd)

Do Pierrot and Harlequin Drink? (June 22nd)

Pierrot's Reaction to MC Hugging Him in Their Sleep (June 22nd)

Pierrot and Harlequin Interaction (June 23rd)

What do the Black Tickets Do? (June 23rd)

Why does the MC's Mouth Taste Funny When they wake up? (June 23rd)

Pierrot's Reaction to the MC in a Clown Costume (June 23rd)

Pierrot's Tongue (June 23rd)

Why Is Pierrot Silent? Does the Circus Have Rules? (June 23rd)

Information on the Pink Tickets+Tent/Where Did Pierrot Learn to Dance? (June 23rd)

Pierrot and Harlequin's Reactions to Their Colors Being MC's Favorite Color+The Color They Wear Most Often (June 23rd)

Characters' Voices/Theories About the Carnival Food/Pierrot with an MC with Self-Destructive Tendencies (June 23rd)

Pierrot and Harlequin's Reactions to MC Wearing Their Clothes/Information Regarding Harlequin's Puppets (June 23rd)

How Would the Characters React to an MC who Used to be a Clown? (June 24th)

---

You should’ve gone to sleep.

But no, you just had to click on that one last Neteyam x reader fanfic—the one where he saved the human girl from drowning and whispered something suspiciously spicy before vanishing into the mist like some heroic jungle boyfriend. You were completely sucked in, eyes dry from staring at your screen for way too long, brain overloaded with blue aliens, loincloths, and unnecessary angst. The fanfic wasn’t even that good. But you were too far gone to care.

Sometime around 4:12 AM, your phone slipped out of your hand and thudded against your face. That was the last thing you remembered before the darkness took you.

When you opened your eyes, you were not in your bed.

For one, your ceiling had never been this… leafy. For another, the air smelled like wet forest and some kind of glowing fruit smoothie.

And your arms.

What. The. Hell.

Your arms were blue.

Long, elegant, toned Na’vi arms, complete with bioluminescent freckles trailing up to your shoulder. You jolted up so fast that you knocked your head against the nearest tree branch and let out a very un-Na’vi shriek.

“OW—WHAT THE ACTUAL—?!”

You scrambled to your feet, or paws, or whatever you now had. Tall. You were tall. Like six-foot-something, and that was just from eyeballing it.

Your first instinct was to scream again.

Your second was to slap yourself.

You did both. Loudly.

Slap.

Still blue.

“Okay. Okay. This is fine,” you muttered to yourself, stumbling forward and catching your reflection in a puddle. Your heart nearly gave out. “HOLY SH*T I’M HOT.”

You had the high cheekbones, the long neck, the massive amber-gold eyes. The braid. The ears. The tail. The whole package. You looked like you’d been born from James Cameron’s sketchbook and blessed by Eywa herself. The worst part? You were kinda into it.

“Oh no. Ohhh no no no.”

This had to be a dream. Some elaborate fanfic-fueled fever dream.

You turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Pandora. Real. Glowing. Absolutely insane.

And then you heard voices.

Familiar ones.

“Lo’ak, I swear if you touch my bow one more time—”

“I wasn’t touching it! I was just moving it!”

A grumbly voice added, “You guys argue too much.”

Your whole soul froze. No way.

You turned.

Standing not twenty feet away were Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Spider.

REAL.

ALIVE.

WEARING CLOTHES YOU HAD MENTALLY FANCASTED THEM IN.

This was either the best or worst thing that had ever happened to you.

Your ears twitched involuntarily. On a scale from 1 to 10 , how bad of an Idea would it be to straight up jump in their laps? Negative...???

They noticed.

Neteyam turned, brows furrowed in polite confusion, then widened in shock. “Who—?”

You did the most human thing possible: you waved.

“Uh. Hey.”

Spider tilted his head. “Who are you?”

Lo’ak’s hand hovered near his weapon. “Wait… are you from another clan?”

Think fast. THINK FAST.

You threw on a fake accent so bad it sounded like you’d swallowed a mosquito mid-sentence. “Yes. I’m from a small coastal clan near the east, we mostly fish and stay hidden from conflict."

There was a beat of silence. Neteyam blinked. “There’s no such a clan, right? ”

You fake-laughed like an NPC glitching out. “Ha ha. It is very… remote.”

Spider stepped closer, eyeing you like you were either lost or insane. “You okay? You kinda look like you hit your head.”

Which… fair.

You swallowed hard. “Maybe.”

“Do you remember your name?”

You opened your mouth to answer, realized your name was human, panicked, and blurted, “Neywen.”

Neywen?

Really?

That was the best your over-caffeinated brain could do?

You wanted to evaporate.

But somehow… Neteyam smiled.

“Well, Neywen,” he said warmly, “you look like you could use some help.”

Your heart did a triple backflip. “I wouldn’t say no.”

---

You followed them through the forest like a glitchy little stalker, trying not to trip over your tail. Every step felt surreal. The plants glowed. The bugs sparkled. Lo’ak talked non-stop about some fight he got into with an ilu. Spider kept giving you suspicious side-eyes. And Neteyam?

Neteyam walked next to you.

Close.

You couldn’t stop glancing at him. He was even better in person. The voice? Velvet. The shoulders? Carved by angels. The smile? You needed CPR.

“So,” he said casually, “coastal clan, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, sweating.

He chuckled. “Must be pretty far. I’ve never heard of them.”

“Very… exclusive,” you said. “We, uh, don’t get out much.”

Lo’ak turned around, smirking. “Sounds fake.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You sound fake.”

“Touché.”

---

When you reached the Sully village, you almost fainted.

Neytiri. Jake. Kiri.

The whole damn canon cast.

Right there.

You tried not to sob.

They stared at you with varying degrees of suspicion and curiosity.

Jake gave you the dad stare. “Who’s this?”

“She says she’s from the some weird ass clan,” Lo’ak said, clearly holding back laughter.

You waved again, because your brain had no better ideas.

“Hi.”

Neytiri’s expression was somewhere between “should I hug her” and “should I gut her with my knife.”

But Jake sighed, rubbed his temples, and said, “Alright. You can stay until we figure out what’s going on.”

Which meant: You were officially in Pandora. Living with the Sullys. Near Neteyam.

You had no idea what the hell you were doing.

But you were going to fake it with every fiber of your tall, blue being.

---

So, you had officially been adopted by the Sully family.

Well… more like tolerated. Suspiciously. With side-eyes.

You had a makeshift hammock in a corner of the home tree that definitely smelled like damp moss, and a mental checklist of things you weren’t supposed to say unless you wanted to get caught.

Words like:

“James Cameron.”

“Canon event.”

“Spoiler alert: Neteyam dies.”

You were surviving. Barely.

“Hey, Neywen,” Lo’ak called one morning, poking his head around the corner of your platform. “You wanna come practice climbing trees with us? It’s like falling off stuff but on purpose.”

You blinked at him. “Uh… that sounds… horrifying.”

Neteyam’s voice floated in from behind. “We’ll go slow. You’ll be fine.”

You sat up way too fast. “Sure! Let me just figure out how to stretch without tail-whipping myself again.”

Lo’ak smirked. “Still doing that?”

“It has a mind of its own, okay?” you snapped, tail already twitching like it had beef with gravity.

---

Fifteen Minutes Later

You were halfway up a tree the size of a New York apartment building, sweating profusely, regretting all your life choices, and trying to keep up with a bunch of actual forest ninjas.

“I’m ninety percent sure I wasn’t built for this,” you gasped, hugging a branch for dear life.

Spider hung upside down nearby, clearly unbothered. “You’re literally Na’vi now. You’ve got like, built-in monkey mode.”

“I want a refund.”

Kiri laughed. “You’re doing better than Lo’ak did his first time.”

“Hey!” Lo’ak shouted. “That was one time. And the branch was wet!”

You took a deep breath, adjusted your grip, and kept climbing. Neteyam waited just above you, perched easily on a branch like some kind of genetically blessed cat-boy. When you finally reached him, he offered a hand.

You took it.

Electricity. Static. Brain melting.

“You made it,” he said, voice soft.

You grinned, out of breath. “Yay me. Did I unlock the achievement?”

He tilted his head. “What?”

“Nothing. Language barrier. You wouldn’t get it.”

---

Once you were all up in the high canopy, Kiri pointed out different trees and taught you which ones had healing sap and which ones would kill you in three seconds or less.

“That one down there,” she said, “will make your skin itch for three days.”

You blinked at it. “I used that to wash my arms earlier.”

She stared at you. “You’re probably gonna want to prepare a burial chant.”

Lo’ak cackled.

Meanwhile, Neteyam kept subtly watching you. Not in a creepy way. More like he was trying to figure you out. Like you were a puzzle that didn’t quite fit into their world.

And you weren’t doing the best job pretending you belonged.

“I like this tree,” you said, sitting on a wide branch and swinging your legs like a little kid. “Good vibes. Smells like bark.”

Spider squinted. “Isn’t that… what all trees smell like?”

“Okay, and?”

Neteyam chuckled. “You’re strange.”

“Thanks. I try.”

---

That night, after dinner and a painfully awkward moment where you called roasted yovo fruit “the fruity fungus balls” in front of Neytiri, you snuck away from the others and sat near a glowing stream under the roots of the big tree. The forest pulsed with quiet life—creatures chirping, leaves glowing, everything humming like a living song.

And you were starting to realize something terrifying:

You didn’t want to leave.

“Thought I might find you here.”

You turned. Neteyam padded through the vines, light catching in his braids.

“Oh, hey,” you said quickly. “Just… hiding from social situations. Very normal behavior.”

He sat beside you, silent for a minute.

“You seem sad,” he said.

You picked at the grass. “Maybe.”

“Did something happen back home?”

You looked at him. The kindness in his face made it hard to lie.

“It’s more like… I didn’t fit there. And now I’m here, and I still don’t fit, but it feels… better.”

He nodded like he understood. “I think you fit more than you think.”

You snorted. “Lo’ak thinks I’m a spy. Spider thinks I’m deranged. Kiri wants to dissect me.”

Neteyam smiled. “Kiri wants to dissect everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

You looked at him. “Why aren’t you more suspicious of me?”

He tilted his head, thoughtful. “Because your story’s weird. But your heart’s not.”

You blinked. “That was very poetic. Who wrote that line for you?”

He laughed. “No one. I just mean—you try. Even when you fail. You don’t act like someone who means harm.”

You looked away, heat rising to your face.

“Also,” he added, glancing at you, “you make my brother shut up for five minutes. That’s rare.”

You laughed, leaning back against the tree roots. “I’ll take that as high praise.”

There was a moment of silence between you, not awkward this time—just calm.

Then he said, quietly, “Come with me tomorrow. I want to show you something.”

You turned to him. “What is it?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a soft grin. “Just us.”

---

Azul, who doesn't do it out of enjoyment (Unlike his slippery twin company...) but necessity, or so he claims. It's simple, really; they agreed to repay him, and they haven't. He can't simply let that be, can he? He needs everyone else to know it's not wise to disobey agreements. But... while he claims to Jade and Floyd, he doesn't do this out of some innate desire to kill... he doesn't exactly prove himself right when he insists on doing that part all by himself. He always has someone else do the dirty work if possible, but when it comes to the end, he seems eager to do it himself.

Azul, who's on his way to "visit" someone who's failed to pay back. By the time he arrives, it's clear they were ready to leave as soon as they could. Unfortunately, they took too long to actually get to the escape part of the plan. He's swift to get to work, his skillfully hands leaving the scene cruel and stainless. It truly reminds him of the sea—

Azul, who perks up when he hears something fall in a room over. He knows the chances of them calling the police after he leaves are high. No witnesses are allowed in this field of business. The door is kicked open, a slick business suit clean of any crime stepping inside. The room is windowless, so really, he knows the only spot's the closet. His gun points to the closed doors, a single click telling whoever's inside that they'll be dead in a mere seconds. He counts down with no further explanation, and the moment he reaches one, he's ready to pull the trigger... Until you throw open the doors. It really doesn't matter in the end though, closed or not he can't allow you to tell anyone what has happened— Wait... You...?

Slowly, the gun is put down, your face pleading as you stare at him with teary eyes.

"I—I promise I won't tell anyone you killed my boyfriend...! Please...! H-He wasn't even any good! He sucked...! He sucked so bad I-I was gonna break up with him anyway...! Please don't kill me...!" In some desperate attempt to lure the gun away from him, you lunge forward, hugging his waist, your hand specifically gripping his bicep. He knows you're about to do everything to get it from him, so he knocks you out before you can. When you're on the floor, he has every attempt to finish the job. Instead, he kneels down, pulling you into his arms as he looks closer at you... He knows he's not dreaming now.

You're the mer he was desperately in love with before his rise to power.

Your goal? Abide by the contract Azul has set out for you until you have a plan of escape. His goal? Performing all the courting acts, he didn't have the confidence to do back then.

Jamil works as an assassin who gets rid of the world's most corrupt wealth. It's a job he takes seriously. The entire premise of the profession essentially has him choosing fate.

He's on another job. In fact, he's already lining up the shot, before a knife flies past his face, the force being felt on his skin.

"Hi, Jamil." You prop yourself right next to him, your eyes falling on his rifle.

You.

He's already lifting the thing to your face before you lie down on his lap. He's half tempted to push you off the roof before remembering how obvious that would make his position.

"What are you doing?" He mutters, realigning the shot as you fake sleep. When he doesn't seem to care, you peek an eye open, sitting up to watch him aim, as if you were shooting too.

"I wanted to see you."

"Why would you want that?" he mutters, his eyes glancing at you for a single moment.

"Dunno. You're fun to talk to, I guess..." He hums at the confession, as if it doesn't affect him very much. "... Even if I'm the one doing most of it..." You watch as he pulls the trigger, immediately standing up to flee. He grabs your hand to run away with him, as if you're not in the same exact profession as him.

He really wishes he had a request to end you... Maybe then he'd stop caring about what happens to you.

...

Imagine his surprise when he actually gets the job to kill you.

"D-Did I annoy you too much...? Jamil, I'm sorry, I really did just enjoy talking to you—" Your hands remain up in the air as your back hits the wall, a picture frame falling. Jamil catches it before it can shatter. It's a photo of you smiling, the sun kissing you just right. Very different from your expression now, shrouded in shadow as you await the inevitable.

You close your eyes when you stare down the barrel of the same man you've grown to like. You don't mutter anything else. You know Jamil is very set in his determination to finish a job. And so, you wait for the quick pain.

Except it never comes. Instead, you are met with the feeling of cold metal hitting you across the face, unconscious slipping into your brain.

"I'm sorry for this." is the last thing you hear.

The next time you wake up, you're met with a house you've never been in. No matter how many times you try opening the doors or breaking the windows, nothing works.

Until you're met with... Jamil, in regular clothes. Carrying a handful of groceries as if he weren't the same man who had assassinated the most influential businessmen in history.

"What would you like for dinner?"

D... Dinner...?!

Your goal? Figuring out what his ulterior motive is for keeping you there. His goal? Making sure his employers don't realize he didn't complete his job because he's obsessed with you.

Even if it means taking down those investigators.

Vil, who specifically goes for fans. It would be expected if he took out rivals. And if he did, there would be no satisfaction in reaching the top, with no rivals, would there? So instead, he targets owners of popular fan pages. The moment there's a pattern that gets released to the public, suddenly that celebrity seems to lose more and more of their following as time passes. All the way until they've hit rock bottom, taken in for questioning with their 'fan' disappearances. No matter how hard they plead their case, there's always some foolproof evidence that shows their guilt. But they swear they didn't do it!

Vil, whose next victim is you. You seem to be the last of Neige's major fan pages, standing tall amongst all the panic in his fans. It's perfect, really. He's about to set up his little plan for the following week, when he finds out the truth of your identity.

You're the [Name].

While not nearly as big of a name as Neige, you're a rising star in the acting industry. In fact... Vil is meant to be acting alongside you as love interest in his next movie. It's... an interesting side plot in his scheme. He has a rule for his victims. While one day, he might finally disregard it and get rid of a genuine competitor, today won't be the day. So instead, Vil waits. He waits until he finally meets you face-to-face on set. And, to call you beautiful might be an understatement. Of course, there's always room for improvement, but he might need a minute to figure out exactly what needs to be enhanced... He'll figure it out later.

Vil watches with a careful eye as you happily interact with the staff, even talking to him like you were close acquaintances at most. It's interesting. Not only are you Neige's biggest supporter, but there's something... off. He can tell. He can tell even more so a month into the film, after the two of you finish your on-screen kiss. But he won't deny it, you're quite skilled in your department. It's admirable. It's a moment that would be filled with passion, with Vil's hands viciously moving from place to place on your body as your arms wrap around his neck, as your mouths exchange unspoken words.

He's about to ask you about your comfort level before spotting notes you had left open on your phone. And goodness, what notes they are. You should be careful as to what the public could see.

Though that doesn't matter. Not when the two of you are breaking co-worker guidelines and booking a private suite in the nearest hotel. A place where no camera can find you two as you perform the same sensual scene, in the privacy of that room.

As you sleep, Vil sees your notes again, and he breaks a nail as he wonders. Wonders if... he's merely a replacement for your obsession.

... You wake up to a bedroom that isn't the one you fell asleep in. And there are pictures, ones in a similar fashion to the ones on your own wall. Except, instead of millions of photos of Neige, it's a million... of you. Covers of you frame a board with several other celebrities, and connected fan accounts. The x's on certain pictures tell you enough of whose house you're in, and what they've done. But... imagine your fear when the same killer you thought was coming after you is your co-star?

"Here's the deal." Vil sets a glass of wine in front of you. "You'll become my lover in public, with you secretly running Neige's fan account while slowly feeding the internet his dark truths. And in turn..." A long nail takes hold of your chin, his thumb brushing over your lip. He thinks you really are pretty up close. "I won't tell anyone how deep your obsession with him really goes."

And so, you're living and working with the same man who might end you both publicly and physically. Little do you know, he might've unintentionally grown just as obsessed with you.

Your goal? Breaking out of this deal as soon as possible. His goal? Dragging everyone else's reputation down as he revels in the spoils of having Neige's number one fan in his arms. Though, he'll make sure you come around.

Rook, who is actually a copycat. A copycat... after you. Your brows furrow as you stare at the TV, seeing once again a familiar crime that isn't your doing. Truly... when will this guy give up? Maybe he even knows your identity long before you have a suspect in your copycat case. You're plastering all of his walls, cute heart scribbles on there that he takes pride in. When he leaves his home, he says goodbye to each frame as if it were the genuine article. But there's no fear in that, because soon, it will be the real you!

Rook is a regular at the cafe you work at. You strike a good balance between being kind enough to clients so they won't hate you, and being nonchalant enough to slightly show you don't wish to be there. Goodness..! He could admire you for days! You've noticed, though. The blonde regular might have a staring problem... He always seems to order the same thing, which, coincidentally, is the same order you always get.

…

"Oh my...! Trickster, are you okay?" You stare through tired eyes at the familiar blonde in front of you. It's dark in the alleyway. An alley that was supposed to be void of witnesses, but here he is... Rook was it? The only other living person in this space.

Who can see the large garbage bag you're dragging behind you... And... is smiling at the suspicious scene? You lick your lips, your hand already on your blade's handle. It wouldn't take much to end your witness here, but carrying two bodies is so much effort... Maybe... Your arm is about to swing at Rook, your threat on the tip of your tongue, before he's pulling you in—by the waist?!

"Non non! I admire your work!" He's spinning you around, and you can't even question what's happening. You spot the bag being effortlessly carried by your stalker, a bright smile on his mouth despite the dim lighting of night.

... What?

"But... My Trickster, while you are truly magnifique... You must be—" He can't even finish that sentence, before he's slinging the trash bag over his shoulder to catch you with one arm. "... Much more vigilant."

You don't remember what happened after that.

You glare at the blonde through your lashes, judging every image on his wall. Somehow, every spot you look at has a new picture you didn't see before. The sight of your work has you realizing that this man is your copycat.

And now, you're stuck listening to him admire your work, even going so far as to wish for your hands on him to end his life. A part of you wants to do it, just to shut him up, but you know he'd enjoy it far too much...

While he essentially lets you live out your life like normal, he's always at your side, even when he's not right next to you.

Your goal? Figuring out how to get your crazed stalker copycat fan out of your life!!! His goal? Being your magnifique partner in crime!

Idia, who has a victim preference for extroverts. He knows there's a reason that the chances of seeing an extrovert in public are much higher than it is for introverts, doesn't stop the fact that he hates it.

Seriously... He just wants to leave his house to an empty city where no one wants to talk to him...! It's why he does what he does. Whenever he comes across a new normie in public, he's pulling up their address, social media, passwords, search history, and so much more. All so he can end their online presence before doing the same to their physical form.

So he's already doing that the moment you come up to him. Oh you... You just exude so much extroverted energy... Bet you don't even know about the depth of Kingdom—

"You like Premo too?" You chirp in from the side, and he's already scowling. Really, you just had to come up to him...! Grasping at straws for social interaction... Do all extroverts do that, seriously???

"Y-yeah..." Stop talking...!

"Have you gone to their recent concerts? Wow, they really do put out so much hype." ... Keep going. "I could never like them for just their looks. They really don't have that sparkly in-your-face promoting like other idol groups. And their voices are so mature and—sorry..." Huh... "I just thought I'd bring it up cause uhm..." You're an extrovert. "... I thought you were kinda cute..."

... What?

Idia, who is stalking you not because he wants to take you out (in the death kinda way) like the rest of those extroverts, but because now he has a genuine... Interest...!? Wow, he's fallen so low. His yesterday self would be so disappointed.

And of course... your page is—actually... normal? You have a set schedule, but your face is kinda barely there? You... post nerd material!!!

You're... could it be... you're... an introvert?! One who... Broke the introvert code to tell him he was cute, of all things?!!?!?

Everywhere you go, after going up to that stranger, you feel a chill run up your spine, like something is watching you go about your day. It isn't until your extroverted friends who drag you out to meet new people start disappearing... do you fear this feeling is something much more than just being watched.

Your goal? Figuring out who's taking out all your friends. His goal? Making sure to get those normies out of your life!!!

Malleus, whose killings are actually pretty spontaneous. He has no set rhythm or rhyme to it. Except well...

"Malleus? What are you doing outside? You know it's like, raining, right?" You quickly usher the soaked man into your home, his hair dripping onto your floors. You take no mind to it, a feature he's come to very much like about you.

He's lucky for the rain, truthfully. It has washed away all evidence of his crimes. The blood that had previously stained his fingers, wiped away by washing his hands through the pouring water.

"Has anyone else tried to talk to you, dear?" Malleus inquires as you wrap a blanket around his shoulders, your body sitting a few feet from him. A part of him wishes to ask you to come closer, but he knows such things take time.

"Uhm... The police?" He slows at the words. "They're... They're suspicious of me." You spit out, curling into your knees as you speak. "They think I killed all of them... B-But I know—I swear I didn't...!"

"Why do they think it is you?"

"All the victims are people who tried talking to me..." He hums at the acknowledgment. "It's just a coincidence, right? But what if they... come for people I care about...?" You jump when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder, Malleus closing the distance between you on the couch.

I have already thought of that. Malleus clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I will be here to protect you." There's a weird emphasis on the you, but you take no notice of it.

"Thank you, Malleus..."

You'll have no idea that while you're sleeping peacefully in bed, Malleus is out in the night, his hands stained with those who come even close to you.

Malleus, who does have a victim preference.

Those who try to take his spot at your side.

Your goal? Clearing your name of these murders. His goal? Stopping any possible suitors from taking you away. Including the same police who wish to charge you.

Skully, who kills in the name of Jack Skellington! He goes about his days perfectly normal. A normal student, a normal child, a normal friend, sort of... Of course, there's a certain oddity to him. He's pretty quiet and unnoticeable to the population. They have no idea that the recent missing cases in their community are due to whispers in his ears.

Little does he know that Jack Skellington doesn't exist. It's not a figment of his imagination, however. It's... a manifestation of his affection for his darling. The truth of the matter is, he kills for them, because they believe Jack Skellington to be real.

...

You're the one telling him to kill.

The moment you wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning into his ear with a soft whisper, he's already prepping his axe and thinking of all the ways to fullfill your desires! After all, you're the Sally to his Jack Skellington...

Oughh... That's so embarrassing to admit...! But it's the truth. Which is exactly why he lays his head in your laps after each success, as you both trade affection-filled words into each other's ears. He reminds you of a dog in that way. Especially with how he jumps at the chance to satisfy you.

You watch as he quickly ends those coworkers of his who always ridicule his obvious obsession with you.

Really, man... you're so obsessed with them it's kinda pathetic. I mean, have some autonomy—

He can't finish that sentence. He has no voice to finish it with when Skully does what needs to be done.

It's not allowed... Really... No one is allowed to belittle his affection for you. He'd do anything for you after all! You... You saved him from the horrible life he was living. If it weren't for the love you shower him in, he's not even sure he would have any motivation in life! You're... You're perfect.

Skully, who kills in your name.

Your goal? Loving Skully as much as you can. His goal? Making sure you know how much he loves you.