Gremory Green with Envy

Not every succubun is so lucky to be cared for and loved by the comforting figure that is Murmur. That those loved and cared for from the time they are born to the time they are released back into Burrowgatory will grow one of the 5 typical horns.

No.

Lyle - like many others who he was raised alongside him - would be revealed during the hazelbloom festival, rocking his envy horns. And unfortunately, it was those cold memories of Gremory's favoritism that drove his personality to be the way that it was.

That is, to say, envious.

But things hadn't started as cold and emotionless as many had come to understand. Early on in his childhood, before there was any chosen favorites by the demon, there were some warm memories. Perhaps this is the reason he found himself drawing into such secluded and dark feelings.

Those warm memories, nothing but a façade to how Gremory treated charges. At least, the ones that never gained her favor.

But still, there was a time when Lyle was still young, gentle, and full of hope that would make many wonder how his childhood could shape him. A small little bun with pure feelings of how the world was.

Early on, as Gremory was still learning of her new charges, he remembers being together with his 'littermates' - that is to say, those who were born the same year. The warmth and comfort of sleeping besides other warm bodies, simply curled up and resting as they came to enjoy their new lives amongts themselves.

There are buns he would grow up with that he'd never see again. Some that he'd never know. Some he hated, and never wished to see again. It was a painful thought to someone grown. These moments of solidarity that would effortlessly be shattered by a demon, pawning with a group of infants with no ways to defend themselves.

But Lyle was not interested in resting like the rest of his 'siblings'. Ever full of energy to take on his draining life, the young succubun crawled away from his pile of baby bun comfort and into the cold and unforgiving world...that is to say, he fell on the ground and hurt his little nose.

The pain registered slowly, but after a moment he cried out. Perhaps his earliest memory of trauma. It would've been, had Gremory not had lifted him up and gazed upon him with an expression soft enough to lay down upon.

"Oh, you poor dear," her words whispered, dripping from painted lips like medicine slathered in honey. "You took quite a spill there. Does it hurt?"

Lyle didn't really react. Didn't truly understand. Or perhaps he did, frightened by the much larger demon holding him so tenderly. Unbeknownst to him at the moment, it was likely a once-over to see if he were worthy of her affection down the line.

"I'll make it all better, okay? No more tears, sweet boy."

With that promise, she laid a kiss to his nose. It was soft, and a little strange with a large being caring for such a small creature. But in that moment, Lyle knew of love. The love a mother could give to a child. A love that would come with conditions.

"Yes, good."

Her tone was sweet, but dismissive at once. Lyle had been labeled in her mind already. Rowdy, crybaby. Perhaps that was the moment all hope for a better future was lost. But Lyle wouldn't know. The memory was like a gentle blanket that laid over him, but the questions that followed gripped his heart like claws.

Manicured fingers snapped, her expression changing to one of disgust for just a flash of time before a blanket was laid in her hands. But her contempt was masked quickly, as she began to wrap the bun up in a blanket and hold him close to her. Lyle's tears had been replaced with comfort and adornment.

"Truly, you are much cuter when you're not in tears." She continues, her vocal tone sounding like a sweet, serenading music to Lyle's little baby bun ears. "No more adventuring for you, sweet boy. Please find a place with the others and rest. There's a lot of work to be done with not a lot of time to do so."

His infant mind didn't understand the words. All he knew was Gremory's love. At least in this one, solitary moment that there was an inkling of love and tenderness. How cruel of her to take that away from him, to subject him to the hatred of others due to favoritism. Those golden words would rust over time, sullied through actions.

Through favoritism.

Once more, he was laid to rest, now curled up and content with the other buns from that year's newborns to rest. For a moment, he was given a favor of the demon, Gremory. A blanket, wrapped in the scent of the only parental figure he'd known.

As the sunlight filtered into his shitty apartment, tears streaked down his face silently. Soot was there, nudging the envy bun to awaken from his sickeningly sweet dreams, the memories of his life once passed.

Another day would go by, fighting these memories. Though not all sweet, this one stuck out to him for the simple fact that it was the only time he'd truly felt any real love from her. She'd kissed him goodnight, and Lyle would force himself to wake up.

Gremory had made him envious.

He would never forgive her.