Hiiii! You’re my favourite writer!! <33 I have some idea
Maybe G!P Donna with reader who is a very romantic and artistic soul. She reads a lot of romance novels and gets a little lost in this world. Donna has been wanting to do sexual things with the reader for some time now. Each time, the reader tells Donna to stop or runs away. One time, Donna can't stand it anymore and confronts her. It turns out that the reader, because she reads so many romance novels, is afraid that she will not be able to meet Donna's expectations and will disappoint her. She is also afraid of sex because in most romance novels the girl is in pain and how Donna will react to her body :(
Yess!!!! OMG, thank you for your words, your support is very important to me :)))) Thank you for your request too!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))
The love that wasn't in the books
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,
Word count: 8,441 (ups, maybe it's too long)
Summary: You were afraid of doing what lovers do in your books...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
The backpack you were carrying on your shoulders was heavy, the cold was almost unbearable, but the path you were traveling made you not care about any of that.
After playing to look for love in your books, you finally thought you had found it.
A tall, handsome and kind villager? No
Maybe a shy villager like you? No, not at all.
Any resemblance to a reality you thought you were living was a coincidence. After years feeling maybe that feeling, that impossible romance, was only written in your books, the day arrived. The day you didn't think you were awake, the day love knocked on your door or, well, you actually knocked on its door.
Neither a villager, nor a farmer, nor a forbidden lover nor an impossible love. Just when you thought that maybe you weren't born to be loved in the world you lived in, in that sinister place, reality hit you, thus overcoming the stories you could get lost in for hours.
It was not a reality similar to any of your friends. It was not a marriage proposal to unite two businesses, no... Love appeared in your life unexpectedly, with an unexpected someone.
Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, a mysterious figure who dangerously bordered on legend. She was waiting behind that door, in that idyllic place, with the incessant sound of that waterfall. You never expected someone to open the door for you. You never thought you would really meet that woman who seemed to give nightmares to your friends.
You didn't believe in ghosts or monsters, how could you in a place populated by werewolves? You never liked fantasy novels. Living in that village, the most impossible thing was love, romance. Maybe that's why you were so hooked on those books, maybe that's why they seemed almost like a fantasy to you, almost more unreal than a legend about a monster.
It could have been precisely your lack of faith in dangerous creatures, more dangerous than those you already knew, that made you smile at her mourning figure, at that dark woman, tormented by her past, sick, dangerous, much more than any ogre or giant.
But, as has already been said, you never believed in those book monsters, you only believed in love, a blind faith in the possibility of experiencing something similar to your novels, in feeling the same as the protagonists of those books. Maybe then you would forget you were born in the wrong place.
Silence, sinister dolls and sighs. That was all you got from the lady in black when your daring pushed you to sell the vegetables you grew beyond the forest. It could be a dream of living those adventures that you refused to read. But, like everything else in the village, they cost money that was increasingly scarce.
But your daring didn’t end in an eternal nightmare, in a terror that could kill you, just as you were warned. The only thing you gained was a quiet afternoon, having tea with what seemed like a ghost, with that woman with a covered face, in the darkness of the mansion.
A poor excuse, the flavor she said was unmatched from vegetables made you come back again, and again, and again...
Oblivious to that strange curiosity the lady in black seemed to feel about you, your fantasies increased without meaning to. The protagonists of your books became little by little deformed in your head. The innocent lady who fell in love with the knight stopped being innocent. Her hair turned brown, and the knight changed his armor for a black dress.
Love had come to your head, to your heart, and you didn't know why, but you imagined that somehow, she felt the same.
That was confirmed when that horrible black veil disappeared on one of those afternoons of tea and few words. It was an unmatched beauty, a wounded but beautiful face. Those knights in black dresses no longer had a helmet. They had a face, lips, a desire to be that innocent lady from a medieval town. You were. You ended up succumbing to what your heart said it felt, just like Donna.
After a few months enjoying true romanticism, feeling everything you read in novels, you took the last step to remind yourself that you were not living in a dream. Living on the Beneviento estate, living with Donna, with your love, living those moments your books always hid after: they lived happily...
Everything was new to you, you couldn't think, or imagine what was to come and that was... Exciting.
“I thought you wouldn't come...” the lady in black murmured, opening the door so you could enter that new life, your new life, your own story.
“Well, I had a lot of things at home,” you said, kissing your lover slowly, just as you had learned in your books. Love was in no hurry, it was slow, intense… It was something so subtle that it left an indelible mark on your memories. You wanted it that way.
She smiled in relief. If your greatest fear was living without being loved, hers was losing you, something she always made clear, something that always made her tremble, made her look shamefully weak.
“I see,” she commented amused, helping you, taking a folder you were holding in your hand. –“What is this?” she asked, browsing its contents.
You smiled and blushed.
“Drawings, sometimes I feel like letting the paintings think for me, you know,” you said nervously, looking next to her at those mediocre landscapes full of castles, ships on the sea, the scenarios that you read over and over again in books.
“You're quite an artist,” Donna murmured, with a tender smile, with the smile that reminded you were loved, she loved you.
“What is that, silly?” a squeaky voice asked, Donna's faithful companion, her inseparable alter ego, the Angie doll. The puppet picked up one of those drawings, looking at them.
You got nervous, blushing even more.
“It's her stuff, Angie, come on, behave,” Donna snapped, taking the drawing from her wooden hands and putting it next to the rest in the folder. The doll laughed, while you left that heavy backpack on the floor.
“You're the one who has to behave, Donna, now that you can finally put that stupid villager in your bed and...” the doll couldn't finish the sentence, since the lady's hands went to her with a scared look, causing her to turn and run away.
“Don't pay attention to her,” she said, shaking her head, with a blush that was also quite evident.
You smiled amused, but with a knot starting to form in your stomach. One of your worries, one that kept you awake at night, came back to spoil the beginning of your new life.
“Yeah, I'm used to it,” you said, with nerves starting to distort your voice. No, it was not the time to think about those things, it was not the time.
“I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it a little more from now on, tesoro,” Donna whispered, gently grabbing your waist, not wasting that small tender moment to kiss your lips, to make you feel those things that you could only imagine months ago.
She smiled at you, sighing pleased at your receptiveness, at how sweet and romantic your kisses were. You smiled back at her, being dazzled by that bright, sincere eye, by that look that said how happy she was because her loneliness was over.
Not wanting to lose yourself in love again, you grabbed your backpack from the floor, making a gesture of effort. Donna laughed, helping you carry that weight, frowning.
“What are you carrying here?” she asked amused. You shrugged as you let the lady snoop around a bit. You didn't care, she was already part of your life, and she would be forever.
“My books,” you explained, amused, while your lover looked at those old covers worn by use, those words you believe one day your eyes would be able to erase.
“Oh, they are many of them, mm?” the lady murmured, reading the titles with curiosity.
“There is no place for them!” Angie screamed from the living room, to which you both smiled knowingly.
“(Y/N), don’t…”
“I don't pay attention to her, I know,” you whispered, finishing her sentence and winking at her, earning you another of her fascinating smiles.
“But, it's a shame...” Donna murmured, with an air of sadness that put all your senses on alert.
“What's wrong? If, if there really isn't a place for the books, I can, I can maybe...” you said, playing with your hands, which were starting to sweat.
You were always cautious, you were afraid of losing what you had worked so hard to get, you were afraid of losing her love.
Donna smiled, shaking her head, searching for something on a piece of furniture in the room, something wrapped up that she extended towards you.
“I say it's a shame, because my gift won't fascinate you as much as I thought,” she whispered romantically, while you took the package with trembling hands and raised eyebrows.
“A gift? For me?” you asked in an almost childish way, excited by those things you only believed happened in books.
“Of course,” she said, amused, looking expectantly at that mysterious package trembling in your hands.
“You, you shouldn't have…” you said, noticing how your heart was beating faster and faster.
“Sciocchezze,” she responded, making a gesture with her hands, downplaying it. “You have given me the happiness of being able to see you wake up every morning.”
Your cheeks were already turning dark red.
You bit your lip as you unwrapped the gift. Not all the romanticism described in your books could overcome the softness of her voice declaring her love for you with phrases like that one. You were totally addicted to her.
“Love in the Time of Cholera,” you read the title of that new book, without marks of having been used, resplendent in your hands. Donna nodded with an excited expression.
“Don't tell me you've read it, because you'd make me buy another one,” she said amused, surrounding you, grabbing your waist from behind and kissing your shoulder. You shook your head, turning the pages, soaking in the smell of that new book, that magnificent gift.
“No, the truth is that it's the first time I've seen it,” you said sincerely, admiring that gift, a successful one. You didn't know when you stopped being a secret to Lady Beneviento. Well, there were still things she didn't know and they were the ones that made you strangely and uncomfortablely nervous.
Donna nodded, kissing you again romantically and pulling away slightly.
“You can start reading it now if you want, I still have one more surprise for you,” she whispered with a slightly dark, but happy look. You didn't see evil in her eyes, you had never seen it.
The stories the villagers told about her were very wrong, or so you liked to think.
“What one?” you asked, making small jumps on the wood, excited by this welcome, by this beginning of your new life.
“If I told you...” she murmured, turning elegantly to look at you, making her dress dance in a hypnotic way.
“It wouldn't be a surprise,” you finished, smiling. Your connection was so strong that you were even able to dare to interrupt her. Donna smiled, gesturing to her doll.
“Angie, do something useful and put those books in the shelves,” the lady ordered, which obviously led to the puppet's comical protest.
“What are you trying to achieve with this, huh?” Angie rebuked, making Donna roll her eye, ignoring those childish squeaks. –“(Y/N) is a fool, do you think she will spread her legs for you just because you prepare a…?”
Luckily, you were already engrossed in your reading. You couldn't know if you had really heard what you had heard.
“Angie! Taci!” Donna said, with a cold, almost furious look. “Stop talking nonsense and put the books in order before I get angry.”
“Stop talking nonsense, blah, blah, blah...” the doll mocked, imitating the voice of its owner in the most mocking way possible. “You forget that you are me and I am you, I know what you’re thinking.”
“Really? What I’m thinking now?” the lady said with her hands on her hips, while you turned page after page, not paying attention, or rather, ignoring that usual argument.
“Okay, okay, I give up,” the doll said, apparently scared. “Don't disable me, I'll be good,” she pleaded in a comical tone.
Donna nodded, looking at you strangely and sighing.
“The books, now,” she murmured, before disappearing down the elevator hallway.
The doll growled, mocking its owner again and prepared to obey.
You didn't know how much time had passed, since whenever you got into a book, it was hard to get out of it. Apparently, tranquility reigned again in the mansion, well, almost. Angie's murmurs and protests while she looked for a place for your books were the only thing separating you from absolute silence.
That promised surprise was a romantic dinner, one that Donna prepared in silence, trying not to disturb you.
The light of the candles, the taste of the food, the bitterness and fruitiness of the wine…
Everything was perfect, even your looks, even that strange shyness that was evident in the lady in black. You wanted to ask what the reason for her nervousness was, but you didn't want to, you didn't want to expose her psychosis, or the fragility of her mind. You wanted everything to be perfect, as perfect as in your books.
But since everything has an end, as uncertain as in most stories, that moment arrived, the time to spend the night with Donna, to sleep next to her. You didn't see anything wrong, you didn't see the brunette's possible intention, and of course, you didn't imagine that was the reason for her strange nervousness.
“Come to bed, my love,” Donna told you tenderly, pointing to the empty spot on the mattress. You, nervous about that step, about your first night sleeping with her, obeyed with your new favorite book in your hand. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” you said with a smile, while she adjusted the pillow, everything she could do to make you comfortable. She was so attentive, so kind. Sometimes it was difficult for you to believe that she was a Lord, that her name was synonymous with pure terror, with fear itself. “Thank you, Donna.”
She nodded, looking away, playing with the sheets, without removing that strange glow in her face she had during dinner.
“You don't mind if I want to read before going to sleep, right?” you asked, opening the book again, with an innocent smile. She looked at you and nodded, blinking nervously.
“Of course I don’t mind, read calmly,” she said, caressing your cheek. You smiled gratefully and immersed yourself again in that tragic and interesting story.
Time passed subtly. You didn't look up from the book, but something made you feel uncomfortable. It would probably be Donna's strange posture, with her gaze lost, as if she was waiting for something, maybe for you to turn off the light so she could sleep.
After a moment of her seeming to think about something, she cleared her throat, moving a little closer to you.
“Do you want to read with me?” you asked innocently, ignoring the soft caresses that ran down your hand. She, confused, nodded with a sinister smile, getting closer and closer.
At first everything seemed to be going well, but soon the kisses reached your neck, the caresses went down the sheets until they reached your legs. Your nerves were on edge, the book started to shake in your hands and your breathing quickened.
“Donna,” you said nervously, closing your eyes when that touch on your skin intensified, when her kiss silenced your protests, lying back on the mattress, without saying a word, but saying everything.
She didn't respond, she continued along your body, continued with her burning kisses, with her increasingly dangerous caresses. Your body could not withstand that pressure, and your hands released the book, stopping that hunger, that anxiety of the brunette with your hands on her chest.
“What's wrong, tesoro?” she asked, surprised, withdrawing from you with a confused look, as if she didn't understand your reaction.
“Oh, nothing, it's just...” you said nervously, moving away a little from her burning body, from the desire that was very evident in her bright eye, from her heavy breathing. “I'm, I'm a bit tired and...”
Donna withdrew as well, with a nervous laugh, lowering her gaze.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered with a sincerely apologetic tone. You caressed her face, turning that sudden rejection over in your head.
“No, nothing's wrong,” you said, also looking away from her. “I'm sleepy, that's all.”
“Okay,” she said, with an amused but confused gasp at the same time.
“Well, we should sleep,” you whispered, camouflaging your shame as you left the book on the nightstand, covering yourself with the sheets, as if they could protect you from one of your fears, from something you hadn't been able to assimilate.
“Yes, it will be the best,” she said, imitating your gesture, lying on her back, still breathing hard.
“Good night, Donna,” you said, kissing her quickly, as if you were afraid that this innocent contact would rekindle her intentions. Luckily, it didn't.
“Good, good night”
Yes, you were a true romantic, an artistic soul with a soft heart, wanting to feel everything you had read in love stories, an inveterate romantic, an expert in confessions, in declarations, in tender and affectionate gestures. But there was something in which you were not an expert, something that you had read countless times in stories, something you feared and looked askance at.
The moment of undressing, of giving way to a different phase, of demonstrating the love that was felt in a much more intense way, the moment of making love.
It didn't matter how many times you read it, you felt some anguish when that moment was close, or you thought it was close. You loved Donna. You really loved her, but your cowardly attitude, so different from the romanticism surrounding you, was something that embarrassed you. You were afraid of many things, you were afraid of not being enough, of being clumsy, you were afraid of loving completely, of giving yourself to her in a way you had only been able to read.
Of course, you never told her, you hoped she wouldn't pressure you and apparently she didn't, until that night. It was an innocent attempt, an approach that had nothing lascivious or rough about it, but it was reason enough for all your worries to come back to you that night, curled up next to the woman you loved, unable to love her the way she wanted, the way you knew she wanted.
Luckily, the tiredness acted as an assistant for sleep to free you from those thoughts and, after tossing and turning a few times, you fell asleep.
You woke up with the sensation of having had nightmares, those nightmares that didn’t talk about monsters, but rather about heartbreak, disappointment. Not even sleep was able to free you from your stupid worries.
Donna was sleeping peacefully next to you. Her soft breathing served as a small comfort to the tribulations of your mind. But, in a moment, she turned, unconsciously grabbing your body, dragging it against hers.
Romantic, yes, but also unexpected.
Your terrified body jumped when it made contact with hers. Something pressed against you, something you knew what it was, that you knew she had. Caprices of the Cadou, as she explained to you a long time ago. But feeling it that way, against you, with your back turned, feeling her arms surrounding you… It was too much for you, and you jumped on the mattress, uncomfortable.
“Donna, hey, Donna...” you said nervously, moving her body with your hand, making her grunt when she was woken up in that abrupt way.
“(Y/N)? What...” she stammered, her voice distorted by sleep. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” you said ironically, sitting on the bed, crossing your arms and turning on the light on the table. You were nervous and not thinking clearly, you thought that Donna had wanted to take what you denied her the night before.
The sleepy, confused look on her face should have told you that you were wrong, but you didn't want to see it.
“What... What's wrong, tesoro?” she asked, rubbing her eye, fighting with the sleep that your cowardice interrupted.
“Don't pretend nothing's wrong, Donna,” you said furiously, crossing your arms. As it could not be otherwise, she shook her head, yawning.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, reassuring you with a hand on your shoulder.
“Aren't you able to wait? Can't you wait until I'm ready? It has to be when you want, right? And since I rejected you last night, you have seen fit to take things into your own hands,” you said without thinking, believing in the worst possible scenario.
Donna blinked with a shocked look, opening her mouth to say something, but not being able to do so due to your baseless accusation.
“I don't know what I've done...” she murmured, shaking her head, with an innocent look of concern. “Last night? What…?”
“Don't play dumb, I know you're not,” you snapped, looking away from her, removing her comforting hand from your shoulder.
“Te, tesoro, I have no idea what...” she whispered, trying to calm herself, being completely sincere, something you should have noticed.
“That, what about that?” you said furiously, pointing to the lump that was between her legs, the one that you considered was harassing you.
She looked at the same spot, covering herself immediately, her cheeks flushed.
“Oh, I... I, I'm sorry...” Donna said nervously, hiding her erection under the sheets with a nervous laugh.
“Was it really necessary to take advantage of me being asleep?” you asked irrationally, making her embarrassed look intensify.
“What have I done?” she asked, calmer, with a sad look.
“You know what you've done, you've... Tightened me against you, against your...” you murmured with the same shyness. She laughed nervously, shaking her head.
“Oh, have I? Well, I didn't realize, I was asleep,” she explained naturally, downplaying the importance.
“Yes, of course,” you said, suspicious.
“Hey, I... I don't know what you think I've done but... I promise you it wasn't my intention,” the doll maker told you, grabbing your shoulders to force you to look at her.
“It was your body’s,” you murmured with a tone of contempt. Donna sighed, shaking her head.
“I, I'm sorry, I...” she whispered, her voice soft, giving away her inner nervousness, desperate to reason with you. “Some, sometimes it gets hard when I sleep and I, well, I can't do anything. It's normal, it happens to me often. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, forgive me.”
Your thoughts relaxed at her sincerity, at her worry, one that you caused. You sighed, shaking your head, ashamed of your immature attitude, one that you only showed in situations that were overwhelming you.
“I don't mean to pressure you, amore mio,” Donna whispered, approaching you again, relaxing you with a soft kiss on your cheek, with her subtle caresses, with the soft and melodic tone of her voice. “If you're not ready, I understand. I'll wait as long as it takes, you hear me?”
You nodded, stopping shaking, feeling guilty for that disproportionate reaction to something that you knew was natural, but that your fears and your own worries took on with an attack.
“I'm sorry, Donna, I've been stupid,” you apologized, playing with her hand, staring into her bright eye, at the beauty of her gaze, one that you couldn't stop staring at.
“Don't apologize,” she said, cupping your face in her hands, giving you the warmth that your nervous body needed. “You know I love you, right?”
You nodded, more relaxed, letting yourself be consumed by the tenderness of her kisses, by the softness of her caresses.
Thus, the days passed, that coexistence went well, too well. You and Donna were meant to be together. Everything: the smiles, the kisses, the caresses... Everything became a routine that you no longer wanted to part with.
Afternoons in the workshop, learning to sew, abstract conversations about art, literature, with two steaming cups of tea, with soft words, with looks that said many more things than your words. Everything was perfect, or almost everything.
Donna promised to wait for you and, since that turbulent morning, the subject was not discussed again. It could be lucky, the relief of being understood, but you knew that haven of peace had an expiration date.
Her approaches came again to put you on the ropes. Subtle movements loaded with lust. No matter the place, or the circumstances, any pretext served for Donna to try to corrupt you, for her kisses to become disorderly and her caresses to wander through forbidden places.
You, in a pathetic and cowardly way, rejected the love that she wanted to give you, that display of intimate affection that was so important to her. It could be with a sudden gesture, with your hands stopping hers, scratching her skin so her hands wouldn't go higher than your knee. No matter how many times she tried, you always ran away.
During those two months, tension began to build in the old mansion. The looks began to be harder, with resentment, with ignorance of your thoughts, your fears. You couldn't confess your worries. You were a romantic, that fearful attitude towards sex couldn't be possible in someone like you. The disappointment began to show in her gestures, in the quick kisses that Donna gave you.
Your nervous state prevented you from even enjoying the romantic books that she gave you, from rereading over and over again the stories that you fantasized about so much. Your eyes always went from the words of love, to the romantic gestures, always the chapter you read was the one in which the lovers undressed, enjoying their bodies.
The pressure was getting stronger and the tension was getting more and more unbearable.
Donna's passivity was getting more and more evident. You would drive her crazy, you would drive her crazy.
“Ciao tesoro,” she said, with an elegant smile, when you went back up to the living room after a relaxing bath, one in which you couldn't stop thinking about what to do to solve your fears, your problems.
You smiled tiredly, sighing listlessly, walking slowly towards her desk, where she always worked on things you didn't want to know about, terrible things, according to her, things that an angel like you shouldn't see, or so she told you.
“What are you doing?” you asked, running a hand along her back, causing that smile she always had when she was with you, a smile that was becoming less and less frequent.
“Well, studying my plants, you know,” Donna explained, closing the notebook and looking at you. “Do you want something?”
“Yes, I...” you said, closing your eyes, taking in enough air and confidence, one that faded when you noticed all her attention was focused on you. “I wanted, I wanted to apologize for… Well, for being so distant lately.”
Donna sighed, taking your hand and standing up from the desk, hugging your waist and placing a strand of hair behind your ear with an affectionate look, tender as only she knew how.
“Don't worry, everything is fine, tesoro,” she whispered, kissing you slowly, holding your hands, swinging them together for your relief, for your comfort. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
You wanted to nod, you wanted to say so many things, talk about your fears, the contradiction that was fearing sex when you lived dreaming of love... A shame that your nerves acted against you again.
“No, well, maybe,” you said stammering, looking for an excuse for that sudden approach.
“I'll do anything,” she said, with an overly pleading tone, revealing she evidently knew that something was happening to you, that something was worrying you.
“Okay, well... That lasagna,” you said, faking a smile, leaving her puzzled.
“Lasagna,” she murmured, blinking, confused and frowning.
“Yes, well, it's just that it's so delicious... I, I'd like you to make it for dinner, you know, like on our first date,” you said, lying, being a coward again.
“Oh, sure. You just have to ask me, (Y/N),” she said amused, but confused at the same time. It wasn't the conversation she was expecting to have.
With a tired sigh, probably due to your reticent attitude, Donna kissed you again, looking into your eyes, smiling wistfully, but also with amusement.
“Please,” you joked, feeling more and more natural in lying. Well, lying for love wasn't bad, right?
“Okay, (Y/N). But I hope you prepare yourself because after eating you are going to want to suck...”
The alert went off again in your confused mind, imagining possible ways to finish that sentence, possible horrible words that would come out of her mouth, insinuations that weren't so horrible.
You believed her patience had ended, that her subtle actions no longer made sense. Just thinking about what she wanted you to suck made you burn with rage, an irrational rage, as always, one that made you act irrationally again.
With a furious growl, you moved your hand, slapping the lady in black hard, who remained glued to the floor, her eye wide open and her hand on her bruised cheek.
“But, but, (Y/N)...” she sighed open-mouthed, rubbing the sore part of it with her hand.
You were burning with rage. Your hand was burning from that unfair slap. Your fears, your problems, had overcome you.
“The subtleties are over, right? Did you really think being a creep was going to work for you, Donna?” you said, angry again, for no reason, making her look even more confused, making her gestures fearful.
Maybe you should have thought about it before, maybe not, sure. In the end, Donna Beneviento was fear itself. Maybe you would die screaming for help.
“Creep? But what the hell is wrong with you? What that was about?” she asked with a broken voice, moving away from you, revealing her red cheek due to your angry slap.
“What was that creepy thing about? What did you want me to suck, Donna?” you asked, approaching her, cornering her against her desk.
The lady in black shook her head, with a nervous laugh and a dangerous look.
“What…? Le, le, le dita, the, the fingers, (Y/N), you're going to suck your fingers... Seriously, what's wrong with you?” she said stuttering, being unable to control her language. Surely at that moment you were fear itself for her.
You, embarrassed, with your face red from shame, from your stupid mistake, were not able to respond. You simply let the tears roll down your cheeks, turning around to cowardly run away again, this time, rightfully so.
“No, no, no, I'm not going to let you leave,” she said, grabbing your wrist with a threatening tone, pulling your body, making you sob, unable to escape. “Hey, come on, what makes you think I would say something like that?”
“I don't know,” you whispered, avoiding her gaze, something impossible, since her fingers lifted your chin to keep your head up.
“You don't know...” she murmured, looking away, releasing you from her grip and crossing her arms.
“You don’t get it!” you screamed, clenching your fists tightly, surrendering to the truth of your thoughts, your fears. “I Can't!”
“You can’t? What you can't do, tesoro?” Donna asked, with a slightly softer tone.
“I've tried, okay? I've tried to get used to the idea, to think that maybe I would... But I can't, I can't, Donna,” you sobbed, throwing yourself into the comfort of her arms, a hug that she returned with an intense sigh, stroking your hair, kissing it understandingly.
“Hey, hey, come on, no, don't cry, it kills me to see you crying...” she whispered, comforting you without having to do it, without having to forgive that slap so unfair, so out of place. Maybe you were right and she wasn't the dangerous Lord that everyone thought she was.
“How can I not cry?” you protested, sinking into her chest, wetting the black fabric of her dress with your tears. “It's exasperating...”
“Okay, okay, listen to me, you're going to calm down and you're going to tell me what's worrying you,” she said, pulling you away, holding your gaze and your head, wiping away the tears that wandered aimlessly down your cheeks.
You nodded, regaining some composure, no longer seeing any reason to hide your concerns.
“I've spent my life reading romantic novels...” you began, playing with the buttons on her dress to calm your nerves. “Reading love stories that always ended in the same way and… No, I'm not able to…”
“Shh, relax... I'm here with you, your problems are mine,” she told you softly, relaxing you with her voice, with her caresses.
“I know, I know you want to make love to me,” you said, looking away from her, embarrassed by just saying it. She looked at you, with a sad look, knowing what the conversation was about.
“Of course I want to... I love you so much...” she whispered to you, studying your gaze, which diverted downwards again, towards the black fabric of the lady's dress.
“I want it too, Donna,” you acknowledged, letting that desire come out of your mouth, a desire that you were unable to verbalize, that fear prevented you from saying.
“Well, what's the problem then?” she asked, with the same calm tone.
“I don't... I can't, I... I just read about it in my books and I think about it and I want to feel the same with you but... But I'm afraid,” you finally admitted, embarrassed, dissolved into tears.
“You are afraid, what are you afraid of?” she asked more delicately, knowing that at any moment you could pathetically run away again.
“Everything, Donna...” you sighed pacing erratically from side to side. “I'm afraid of not fulfilling what you expect of me, I'm afraid that you don't like my body, that you'll reject me, that I'm clumsy and won't be able to make you feel the way you expect...��
“Oh, tesoro... What nonsense is that?” she said, with a kind smile, grabbing your waist so you would stop walking senselessly. “You are perfect for me. You will always be perfect for me.”
“That's not true,” you said, darkening your tone of voice. “No, I'm not good for that, besides...”
“Mm?” Donna hummed, letting you talk about what scared you most, what made you most ashamed.
“I'm, I'm afraid of...” you murmured, remembering all the books, remembering the pain those damsels felt when they were loved for the first time. “I, I'm afraid of the pain.”
“Oh,” she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, confused by not knowing how to get those thoughts out of you, knowing that she could comfort you in many ways, but that she couldn't avoid that specific fear. “Well, I…”
“It's stupid, I know, I'm a coward, I know, but, but I'm afraid of hurting myself and... You don't know what it's like to want something you're afraid of.”
“Hey, I would never hurt you, tesoro... Well, I would try not to...” she explained, a bit nervous, knowing that there was no solution for that.
“Leave it be, Donna, I know it wouldn't be your fault,” you said, moving away from her, a difficult task, since her hands clung to your waist.
“I didn't know you were so scared, (Y/N), I'm sorry if I pressured you. I repeat, I will wait as long as it takes, okay?” she said, caressing your cheek, getting rid of the last tears that ran down them.
Your crying was suffocated in a second, that confession moved something inside you, something that, when you felt freed from those chains that were your secrets, suddenly woke up. Looking at her face, at her understanding, at how bad she felt having pressured you like that, you realized that you didn't want to wait anymore.
“Donna,” you said, hugging her again, speaking in her ear as your body swayed with hers. “I want to do it, now.”
“What?” she asked, pulling you away from her and looking at you suspiciously. “But, tesoro, if you just said that…”
“I know what I said,” you interrupted with an angry growl, not letting fear stop you from giving in to your desires, to her desires. “And I also know that if I let this opportunity pass I don't know when I will feel this desire to, to love you....”
Donna nodded, looking around confusedly, taking your hand and walking slowly towards the elevator.
“Are you sure?” she murmured, closing the bedroom door, breaking that tense silence that had accompanied you all the way.
“Yes, I... I want, I want to do it,” you said with false confidence. The lady in black studied your gestures, looking for that insecurity that made you uncomfortable, not seeing it thanks to your art of lying and deception, one that you also learned from your books. She finally nodded, approaching slowly.
“We'll go at your pace, okay? I'm not in any hurry,” she whispered in your ear, making a cold current run through your body. Could it be the desire that had been dormant inside you for so long?
“Okay, I... I guess I have to get naked,” you said confused, nervous again, but wanting to overcome that stupid cowardice. “Surely then you can regret loving me.”
“Stop talking nonsense,” she told you with a stern tone, putting her hands on your shoulders. “You are beautiful, and your body is too.”
“You don't know that,” you whispered, looking down at the floor, hands reaching for the ties of your dress, trembling. Donna laughed, shaking her head, pulling your hand, sitting on the bed, looking at you expectantly.
“Well, I guess there's only one way to find out,” she said amused, caressing your hand, kissing the back of it and leaving you free to act.
You tried to untie your dress, but your hands were shaking too much, your body was shaking too much. Donna noticed it and stood up from the bed, standing behind you, her slender fingers grasping the tie that kept your nakedness safe from onlookers.
“Do you want me to help you, tesoro?” she asked suggestively, speaking in your ear, making the rapid beating of your heart worse.
You, insecure and nervous, nodded slowly, receiving in response a soft kiss on your neck, which distracted you from her rapid movements, from the delicate and skillful way of releasing the ties and letting the dress fall elegantly down your body, rushing to the floor.
You had to suppress the logical impulse to bend down to pick it up, to cover your half-naked body. Once again, her kisses prevented you, dispelling your doubts with her caresses on your body, on your naked skin, with her soft lips admiring, adoring every exposed part of your body.
“Come, let me look how beautiful you are,” she whispered, slowly turning you around.
You, embarrassed, avoided her gaze, just before her lips silenced your fear, kissed yours while her hands calmed the trembling of your body, an involuntary tremor, which was no longer only due to fear, but also to desire, the one that you had read so many times in your books and that now you were feeling.
Slowly, Donna walked towards the bed, bringing your body with hers, kissing you relentlessly, focused on your comfort, on your wanting to continue despite your fears.
Your body fell against the mattress, as did your bra, which her mischievous fingers inadvertently unclasped. Your hands covered your now bare breasts, and she smiled tenderly, bringing her hands to the buttons of her dress.
“You don't have to be embarrassed with me, (Y/N), not anymore,” Donna whispered in a sensual voice, one you had been hearing for too long. “Tell me, do you want me to get naked first?”
“I, it's okay,” you said nervously, nodding, slowly separating your hands from your breasts, letting her look at them while her dress gave in to her movements, falling next to yours. Her eye rose to yours, not making you feel that your breasts were her target, her target was you, all of you.
Stroking your leg, wondering if she was somehow forcing you to give in to her desires, she looked at you again, seeing a shy smile on your face, a blush on your cheeks. Her smile reassured you again as her torso undressed with a loud “click.”
Her beauty was now the center of your thoughts, those pale breasts, with a shape so perfect that it seemed straight out of one of the idealized love stories. You had never stopped to think about what that black dress was hiding; the beauty that was hidden behind that annoying fabric. An almost divine figure, proportioned, some marks on her skin, standing out in the paleness that Donna always carried with her.
A perfect body, a perfect woman.
You couldn't think of anything else. At least until her fingers moved down her body with a sigh, grabbing the last cloth, also black, that hid the rest of her figure, one that you could sense, but that you couldn't see.
Donna sighed, thus revealing her own insecurities, that involuntary change that her eternal servitude to Mother Miranda entailed, a capricious change, but one that didn’t represent the slightest problem for you.
Her underwear went down her legs, thus revealing the last part of her divine figure. Her legs were slender, beautiful, they seemed soft, it seemed like she was made by the black Gods themselves. Between them, the cause of her embarrassment, her erection revealing her impatience, proportionate, like her entire body.
Her eye searched for disgust in your gaze, a sign that it was not what you were looking for, that the fear you felt was aggravated by its size, a little bigger than you imagined, but not enough for you to want to run away.
Proportion was the word, perfection was her body, love was Donna, it was you. It was both of you.
Encouraged by that vision, by that lack of shyness that seemed impossible in Donna, you did the same, breathing nervously, pulling down your panties with your fingers, letting her gaze focus on every detail that the fabric left free.
Two naked bodies, two souls in love. Like a love poem, like a romantic tragedy, two people about to become one. Fear had prevented you from thinking about that artistic way of looking at sex, that way you only believed was an exaggeration by some self-conscious writer.
“Bellisima,” she whispered, not for you, but for herself.
With an admiring sigh of pleasure at seeing your completely naked body, she climbed the bed until she was on top of you, caressing your frightened face. Yes, scared by the perfect beauty of her.
“Kiss me, Donna, please,” you said, feeling the heat of her body, her soft skin burning yours, making it hopelessly addicted. That pale glow, that softness, forced you to move your hands to her back, to her neck, pulling it so your lips met, so your bodies did the same.
Sighs, kisses, caresses... All you could feel was pleasure, desire, her desire and yours mixed in a wet dance of intense, messy, passionate kisses.
Your hips, also impatient, moved to the area of hers. Donna was respectful, circling the places her hands caressed, not wanting to grab your skin like she would like, making you feel comfortable before gently squeezing one of your breasts, eliciting a moan from her lips, from yours.
“Donna,” you said at the pleasure of her grip, of the mischievous play of her fingers on your nipple, of the kisses that slowly descended down your neck.
Your hands, eager for contact, for that perfection that touched you, did the same, exploring, palpating, caressing her skin, causing her to moan, you moaning in response from the pleasure of feeling her body against yours.
Her kisses seemed tireless, especially when, with a frustrated growl, they left your mouth to go down your body, following the path her hands took minutes before. You gasped at that lack of her kisses, but also at the hands that were now traveling up your legs.
Her mouth rested on your breasts, your hands wandered aimlessly along her back, fingers confused, timid, not wanting to give in to the desire to reach other places, to fully explore that perfection.
You moaned again involuntarily, because of the heat that her body transmitted, because of that desire repressed for so long. Her lips caressed your belly, her tongue tested your skin as if it were something delicate, the greatest of delicatessen.
But her desire to kiss you didn’t diminish, nor did her kisses stop going down until they reached that forbidden place, making you sit up scared.
“Hey, calm down, tesoro... I just want to make you feel good, relax,” she said, caressing your belly, your chest, bending down again to fulfill her goal, the humidity that you hadn't noticed between your legs.
The warmth of her kisses on your folds, in uncharted, virgin territory, was so much more than you had imagined. Her saliva mixed with your arousal, her tongue surrounded your most sensitive spot. The pleasure was unimaginable. You hated books at the time. None of them really said how good it felt to be loved that way.
But impatience began to shake your hips. Your hands scratched her perfect skin, marking her, making her moan from your nervousness.
“Donna, please, I need you,” you said, letting your instincts speak for you, letting the game continue, letting your fears disappear. You wanted to be one, you wanted her body inside of yours. You wanted to merge with her in an eternal, hot, humid embrace.
“Yes, if you want me to stop just...” she said, returning to your lips, letting you enjoy your own essence before placing herself right where she wanted, with the tip of her shaft rubbing your entrance, a sensation that made you moan in delight.
“No, do it, please,” you interrupted, when you felt her fingers running through your wetness, when you noticed her erection pressing against it inevitably. The moment had come, and you wanted it to be that way.
“Okay, relax,” she whispered in a soft tone, studying your gestures again, looking for the insecurity in your erratic movements. “Close your eyes and think about how much I love you…”
You obeyed, gripping her sheets tightly, preparing to truly feel her, to feel what you feared that much.
“Ah...” you complained when you noticed that sting, that pain that scared you. Donna entered roughly, but relaxing you with her caresses.
Your body writhed with that intruder, the pain between your legs joined with that unmatched sensation of having her inside of you. Your walls stretched little by little as her erection slid through them.
Donna couldn't help but moan at the strong grip of your body against hers, at that slight resistance that prevented her from moving.
“Do you want me to stop, my love?” she asked, caressing your cheek, stopping that first intrusion, letting your body slowly adjust, to stop feeling that pain.
“No... It, it hurts a bit...” you whispered, shaking your head. A kiss on your lips helped you to stop squirming. It was a subtle delicacy, a kind and loving treatment. You didn't know what you thought of Donna, but it was the complete opposite.
“I know, calm down, tesoro, hold on a bit, it will pass soon, I promise you,” the lady said in your ear, entering further without stopping caressing you, grabbing the hand that was almost tearing the sheets, squeezing it so you could vent that brief discomfort.
Little by little, you stopped feeling bad. A new sensation began to overshadow that pain, the pleasure. Your body quickly adapted to her shaft, feeling waves of pleasure every time she try to move. Once without pain, only with love, only with that overwhelming feeling, you smiled, realizing that you wanted more.
“Mo, move, please,” you asked, biting your lip. Donna looked at you with a smile, controlling the pleasure she felt, worrying about you and not about herself.
She nodded, fulfilling your request slowly, moaning freely now, now that she knew she was only giving you pleasure.
Love, pleasure, desire, you couldn't feel anything else. Your hips stopped being shy and fell in step with her soft movements. The kisses returned from time to time to your lips, the whispers of love bathed your ears, her caresses made you tremble more and more, until you lost control.
With a surprised gasp, due to your body's reaction, to your muscles becoming hopelessly tense, you felt released, you felt your walls tighten, imprisoning Donna between them.
“Donna, Donna...” you repeated over and over again, feeling your legs trembling, your body surrendered to pure pleasure, to the lust that had no comparison.
She didn't respond, focused now on her own release, one that came unexpectedly, with one last thrust, with a high, timid moan.
The heat made you tense again, the sensation of being hers, of her seed conquering your depths was too much for you, stretching you again into a second orgasm, one that intensified the wet caress running through your walls.
“Was it like you imagined it?” Donna asked, after a few minutes of affection, of innocent hugs, of slow kisses. Your head rested on her chest and your mind screamed with regret for having been such a coward, for having deprived yourself of those incredible sensations.
“I think I'm going to write a book,” you commented amused, playing with her hand. Donna laughed confused.
“A book?” she asked, kissing you quickly, frowning.
You nodded, sighing, relaxing and closing your eyes.
“Yes... None of the books I have read can compare to how you have made me feel...”
80 notes
·
View notes
Lu's Guide to Sin Analysis
Welp, since my brain is too focused on having K Corp Hong Lu go full unga bunga in Mirror Dungeons to write full analyses, I decided I might as well give something else to all the people starving for Limbus Theory content.
So, here we are. A basic guide on how I approach the Sin Analysis portion of my analyses, covering my personal interpretations for each Sin, as well as how to use those when analysing both E.G.Os and Identities.
That way, ya'll can dabble in doing some of this on your own when I'm too busy grinding my way to 400 hours of play time on Limbus to write up full analyses.
Sounds good? Awesome. Under the cut we go, wheeeee!
Sin Interpretations
Let's start with the most important part - the Sins themselves.
I want you to take a moment and think about your own associations with those Sins. Perhaps your immediate thought is to take the words used literally. Maybe you immediately think back to the Biblical ideas of the Seven Deadly Sins. Mayhaps there's some other media you know that also uses Sins in some way, which you subconsciously default to when thinking about them.
Whatever those associations are, I want you to throw them away.
That's right. Whatever is telling you that Lust = Horny, Wrath = Angry, Envy = Jealous, etc, etc? Throw all of those preconcieved notions away.
This is the biggest mistake I see people make when trying to analyse Identities and E.G.O based on their Sins - they assume that those Sins have the same meanings in the context of Limbus as the popular, more common interpretations of them.
And while, sure, some of them can definitely overlap with what one would expect them to be, I think relying on those during analysis instead of trying to understand what the game itself is trying to tell us by using those Sins as symbols is doing its storytelling a massive disservice.
Do I think my personal interpretations of the Sins are a 100% accurate reading? No, of course not. I can't see into the mind of Kim Ji-Hoon or whoever else at Project Moon might have been the mastermind behind deciding what Sins connect to what. I have no way of knowing what exactly they intended here.
However, I do wish to believe that my interpretations not only strive to meet the game's storytelling on its own terms, but also hopefully make further analysis based on those interpretations a bit easier to wrap one's head around.
...God I really need to stop writing massive preambles and just get to the fucking point.
So let's actually get to The Fucking Point. Sin Interpretations, one by one. Let's fucking do it.
Wrath
The flames of revolution burn bright in the face of cold winds.
Wrath is the Sin of self-righteousness and defiance. To act with Wrath is to decide that one deserves better, that things around then should bend to their will, and then take matters into their own hands. It's the Sin of deciding one has the right to change something simply because they don't like the current state of things.
There are many ways one can act because of Wrath. It can show through trying to rebel against authority, to subvert one's fate, to escape one's unfavorable circumstances, or to even reject one's own true nature. To act with Wrath is to stand up for oneself and tell reality "No, I refuse!" loud and clear.
A common misconception of Wrath is the idea that anger is an inherent part of it. While it's true that those feelings often coincide with defiance, they're not required for one's acts to be fueled by Wrath. Some can be Wrathful while being completely calm and collected, as their acts of defiance could be more on the quiet and simmering side.
Likewise, being quick to anger isn't always a sign of Wrath. It's very possible for someone to have a short temper, while also being fully accepting of the reality they live in (Ryoshu, I am looking directly at you), thus lacking Wrath.
Lust
One's base insticts go all the way back to that genetic code.
Lust is the Sin of self-indulgence. It's the Sin of letting one's own desires and whims dictate one's actions. It's also the Sin of seeking personal fulfillment above all else. To act with Lust is to give up one's self-control and let one's instincts and wants guide them.
Unlike what the name and symbol might initially imply, Lust can include many different types of desires, not just the carnal.
Likewise, acts of Lust can be just as varied as one's desires. Satisfying one's most basic of needs, searching for a form of spiritual enlightenment, or even just saying the first thing that comes to mind because one feels like it are just a few examples.
Sloth
A stone will not care for what happens to it, nor the world around it.
Sloth is the Sin of apathy and resignation. Unlike other Sins, which mostly show through one's direct actions, Sloth can also show through inaction.
To act with Sloth is to ignore reality, to let oneself go along with whatever is happening with barely any complaints. As such, Sloth is commonly associated with blind obedience or unwillingness to act out.
Due to its nature as a Sin of resignation, Sloth can be seen as the direct opposite of Wrath, the Sin of defiance. This creates a unique situation where the inclusion of one can drastically shift the context of the other if both are a part of the same Identity or E.G.O.
Gluttony
Plants never stop waging wars, always wanting just a little bit more.
Gluttony is the Sin of hunger, and it's unique from the other Sins in that it equally represents two different ideas of that hunger, which can appear together just as often as they can be completely seperated.
The first type of Gluttony is one of the starving hunger of survival. In this context, to act with Gluttony is to do anything for the sake of scraping by and living to see another day.
The second type of Gluttony is the hunger for more, or in other words: greed. In this context, to act with Gluttony is to do everything for the sake of this idea of "more". To gain more wealth, to find more recognition, to make more progress.
Both of these types of Gluttony are unified in one main point - they are, by definition, endless. The struggle for survival never ends, unless one fails to survive. Likewise, there is no finite "more" that greed is reaching towards, it's a neverending process of one-upmanship.
Gloom
When a wave of emotion rises, many will be swept away in its wake.
Gloom is the Sin of dwelling on feelings. To act with Gloom is to be guided by one's negative emotions, to buckle under stress and let it control one's mind and actions.
While sadness, grief, and depression are the states of mind most commonly associated with Gloom, and are often a part of it, they're not inherent to it. The only "requirement" here is the experience of severe emotional duress, and acting out in direct response to it.
In a way, Gloom is the Sin of losing control over oneself, not dissimilar to Lust. However, the main difference here is the cause of losing that control. Gloom is the loss of self-control due to being overwhelmed by negative experiences, while Lust is the loss of self-control due to seeking out positive experiences.
Pride
Be careful, for that double-edged sword may cut you as well.
Pride is the Sin of ignoring consequences. Acts of Pride are all actions taken because of the belief that their benefits outweigh the cost in some way. While the most common way this can present is through actions that benefit oneself at the cost of others, it's not the only way Pride can manifest.
One can be Prideful when believing the benefit to many outweighs the consequences. Likewise, refusing to acknowledge the harm one brings to themself because their actions benefit them in some other way also counts as Pride.
The idea that Pride is inherently tied to selfishness or self-confidence is another common misconception. In fact, Prideful acts can manifest just as often from a lack of self-confidence or a misguided selflessness. Rather, one could interpret Pride as a form of willful ignorance, in a way.
Envy
Thorns don't go out of their way to harm, they merely react to your touch.
Envy is the Sin of reaction and retribution. It's the idea of doing something because of what someone else has done. By definition, one cannot act with Envy without some form of provocation.
Like is the case with many other Sins, acts of Envy can take many forms, from taking revenge to following orders. The main connecting idea here is letting oneself be influenced by another person, whether it's being coerced, provoked, ordered, or otherwise manipulated.
Out of all of the Sin misconceptions, seeing Envy as inherently tied to jealousy might be the worst one of all. While acts done out of jealousy would likely count as acts of Envy, they are but a miniscule part of the sheer scope that Envy represents.
...
Alright, so you know what each of those Sins means. Now it's time to figure out how to Actually Apply Them.
Sin Affinities in the context of Identities
The main way Sins play a role in a given Sinner's Identity is through their Sin Affinities. Mechanically, these are the Sins attributed to each of their skills, signifying both their type of Sin damage and what Sin resource they generate upon being used.
However, this is Project Moon we're talking about, and these fuckers can't keep their gameplay mechanics seperate from the story to save their lives.
So, this begs the question: what can we learn about a Sinner's given Identity through their Sin Affinities?
Here is the method that I believe works best in my experience:
The Sin affinities of each of an Identity's skills represent a different layer of their psyche and motivations. I'm going to try to show what I mean by using base Identities of the four Sinners who already had their own Canto.
Skill 1's Sin Affinity is the surface level motivation of the Sinner's actions. This is the most obvious and "shallow" reading of them and their actions, and also likely the one the Sinners themselves are most aware of.
Gregor's Skill 1 is Gloom due to him being constatly haunted by his trauma, with much of his cynicism and dark-ish sense of humor being shaped by his war experiences.
Rodya's Skill 1 is Gluttony due to her tendency to value material goods and love for food, which are signs of her greed and will to survive respectively.
Sinclair's Skill 1 is Pride due to him taking many actions (such as sharing his father's secrets or giving Kromer his basement key) for their immediate benefits, without considering the consequences.
Yi Sang's Skill 1 is Gloom due to him falling into deep depression and letting the trauma of the past shape his current actions.
Skill 2's Sin Affinity is a deeper motivation of the Sinner's actions. It's delving deeper into their psyche to see what guides them in less obvious ways. This Sin Affinity can also have noticeably closer ties to the Sinner's background in one way or another.
Gregor's Skill 2 is Gluttony due to him being driven by the will to survive, most notably expressed by him leaving the rest of the veterans to escape the war and try to live after it ended.
Rodya's Skill 2 is Pride due to her fully believing in what she does working out in her favor, completely ignoring consequences on the way. Her killing the pawnbroker is the biggest example of an act of Pride, as she fully believed that it would help her neighbourhood despite the consequences that murder would bring.
Sinclair's Skill 2 is Wrath due to him not accepting his circumstances. His want to defy his future prosthetics procedure is what eventually led him to agreeing with Kromer, and his will to defy her is what drove him through the events of his chapter.
Yi Sang's Skill 2 is Envy due to his passive nature and how easily he lets other people dictate his actions. It's especially notable in how after the League fell apart, he would have been willing to do anything Gubo told him at that moment.
Skill 3's Sin Affinity is what I would like to call a Sinner's Core Sin. It's the true main reason behind their actions, and has a much closer and direct tie into their past than the other Sin Affinities. In a way, this is the deepest layer of their psyche.
Gregor's Skill 3 is Sloth as his resignation to his circumstances is what colors much of his past. He learned that resistance is futile early in life, and it shows. Though he didn't want to fight in the war, he felt like he had no choice but to. All of his life, he simply listened to orders without complaint, unable to see a way to change his situation.
Rodya's Skill 3 is Wrath as her self-righteousness and defiance is what drove her actions at the deepest level. She first joined the Yurodiviye because she wanted to bring change the state of her neighbourhood, and likewise left them when she no longer agreed with how they did things. Her murder of the pawnbroker was her biggest act of defiance, of taking matters into her own hands and trying to bring change to her reality at all cost.
Sinclair's Skill 3 is Envy as much of his actions were dictated by other people. Social pressure was what led to him first breaching the trust of his family, and Kromer's coercion and manipulation is what then led to his family's death. In a way, you could also interpret Sinclair's arc in Canto III as one big act of Envy, as he finally tries to take revenge on Kromer for what she has done.
Yi Sang's Skill 3 is Sloth as his apathy to the reality around him is what led to him ignoring the warnings signs of the League falling apart, and the resignation that followed could have resulted in him helping Gubo and the New League out with their horrible plans had there not been an intervention. It's only by the end of Canto IV that he finally manages to break out of this state for long enough to stand up for himself and decide to keep on living.
So, that's the basics of Sin Affinities when it comes to Identities! Now, some of you might be asking, "Hey Lu, what about Sin resources needed for Passives?", and my answer to that is...
Honestly, I don't entirely know! I do think there probably is some reason beyond pure gameplay mechanics... Buuuuut I don't think their importance is as major as the main Sin Affinities of a given Identity, especially since there isn't a single Passive that is activated by a Sin that the given Identity doesn't have any Affinity to.
Sin Affinities in the context of E.G.Os
Alright, so, when it comes to E.G.O, we run into some additional complexities. Unlike Identities, which can usually have their Sins Analysed with minimal additional context, E.G.O Sin Analysis has to be done under a specific angle.
This is because while Identities represent the Sinner as a whole person, E.G.Os represent a specific singular part of that Sinner.
Base E.G.Os usually seem to tie back to a specific event or action or some other thing in that Sinner's past. Likewise, E.G.Os derived from Abnormalities represent the ways that Sinner connects to that Abnormality's own themes.
In a way, the game's worldbuilding even acknowledges the fact that a Sinner can only use the E.G.O of an Abnormality they relate to in some way, as Dante's Notes describe the process of the Sinners using E.G.O as trying to make the Abnormality's emotions and identity their own.
That little tangent aside, there are two main things to analyze sin-wise when it comes to E.G.O - the Sin Affinity, and the Sin Resources necessary to use that E.G.O.
An E.G.O Sin Affinity works similarly to an Identity's Sin Affinities - for a Base E.G.O, it's the main Sin that action manifests as. For an Abno-derived E.G.O, it's the Sin that contextulizes the way the Abno's themes connect to the Sinner in question.
The Sin Resources an E.G.O needs is where things get fun. These are what a Sinner needs to be able to use the E.G.O, both mechanically AND story-wise. The Sins here represent what a Sinner has as their motivation and drive to fully reflect what that E.G.O represents. For Base E.G.Os, it's why they took the actions they did. For Abno E.G.Os, it's why they connect to that Abno's themes and why they're able to relate to it.
Now... There is one more thing about E.G.Os that I don't really talk about.
Sin Resistances.
The reason why I don't talk about them... Is because I have No Fucking Clue how to interpret them. There has to be some importance to them (Hong Lu being weak to Wrath in all of his E.G.O thus far, I am looking at you), I just don't know what it is. In fact, I doubt we even have enough information available to us right now to be able to say for sure.
I don't know how to end these posts dear fucking lord-
So uh. Yeah. That's. Everything that I think is important to mention on the topic of Sin Analysis and how I do it. If I ever change my mind on something or have an epiphany regarding one of the things I currently have no idea about, I'll probably reblog this post with an addendum or something, but until then...
Uh. Yeah. Hope this helps the people who wanna get into analyzing Limbus stuff but don't know where to begin. Or just people who wanna understand the method to my madness a little bit better.
I'm gonna go to sleep now, cause it's 4 AM already and I spent like the whole fucking night writing this post.
411 notes
·
View notes
Through The Portal: Chapter 4
Chapter Summary: Ford must talk Y/n down from making a rash decision. Both must face their tormentor head on.
Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, torture, mental manipulation, PTSD, unrequited love, flashbacks.
A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.
“What!? Are you crazy? I would never even think about doing that to you!” Ford was frantic, he really couldn’t believe I just blurted that out so casually.
“Using the memory gun and erasing the thoughts of Bill, and what I saw and went through in the Night Realm, it might just work. I’m willing to make that sacrifice if it means keeping the rift safe.”
“No! That’s not even an option on my radar.”
“I’m aware, that’s why I’m making it an option.”
“No. I’m not doing that. I care about you too much to erase your memories all willy-nilly like that.”
“It’s not willy-nilly, Ford. I know what I’m asking of you and I know it’s a hard decision but…”
“A hard decision!? It’s an impossible decision that I am refusing to make. I’m not gonna do it, and neither are you. End of discussion.”
I sigh, “may I ask why?”
“Because, if I erased your memory of your time in there and your memories of Bill…you’d forget who I am.”
His words struck me. Was this Ford’s weird way of hinting at something? I shook the thoughts away. Ford and I had been through a lot when it came to Bill, and maybe he finally felt like someone truly understood him fully. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but he was scared of being the outcast he felt he always was.
“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”
“It’s okay. As long as you promise never ask me to do that again.”
I nod, “is there anything else you need from me?”
Ford shook his head, “you can head back upstairs. I just felt like you should know what I found. You and I are of like minds and we both know how evil Bill truly is.”
I nod, “okay, if you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”
We shared an understanding look for each other before I walked back upstairs where the twins started to bombard me with questions and stories again. It felt nice that they were accepting of me into their life.
The next couple of weeks were interesting. Dipper and Ford told me about their adventure playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons that was then brought to life because Stan had thrown their dice, making the infinity sided die to roll out of its case. I enjoyed them sharing their adventure with me as I tried to make sense of my night terrors as Mabel called them.
The following week I helped the twins help Stan run for Mayor of Gravity Falls. I supported him 100% as the Stan I knew back in 1973 would have made a great mayor. I didn’t realise how much he had changed, or what little knowledge he had on politics. Still, I was happy to support him no matter what. After saving the kids, he was elected mayor by getting the birdly kiss from the mayor picking eagle. Little did I know Stan had a very extensive criminal record. I guess people do really change more than you realize.
I knew the adventure this week, though, was going to be interesting. I was fast asleep when all of a sudden I was in the middle of the nightmare realm. I feared it was another nightmare, then suddenly it morphed to where I was standing in the middle of a field.
“Y/n?” I heard Ford’s voice call out.
I turned around and saw him standing there, “Ford?”
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
That’s when we heard the malicious laugh of Bill Cipher. It was no coincidence Ford and I were here. Bill had a plan for us. Big plans.
“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eye. Stanford Filbrick Pines, my ol’ pal. And, could this be, my sweetheart? Y/n? I think it is.”
“Bill Cipher. What do you want from us?” Ford asked, pulling me behind him.
“Oh quit playing dumb, IQ. You two knew I’d be back. You think shutting down that portal can stop what I have planned. I’ve been making deals, chatting with old friends, preparing for the big day. You can’t keep that rift safe forever. You’ll slip up and when you do…” Bill then shows us a tear leading from our world to the nightmare realm, and I feel like I’m gonna puke.
“Get out of here! You have no dominion in our world!” Ford yelled at Bill, keeping a protective hand on me.”
“Maybe not right now, but things change, Stanford Pines,” Bill’s voice morphs into a creepy deep one, “things change.” He then rises into the tears laughing maniacally.
I shoot up screaming. Scared out of my mind. Bill was coming, and I was utterly terrified. The thought of actually facing Bill scared the shit out of me. Bill was someone I never wanted to actually face ever again. The fact that he appeared to Ford and I meant he was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. That was the thing that scared me the most.
The next morning I could barely get out of bed. I sat there lost in thought, I was unable to fall back asleep after our meeting with Bill. I heard Ford call for a family meeting and I gathered all the courage I could muster and walked downstairs.
“Y-Y/n? Are you alright?” Ford asked, looking at me concerned.
“I’m scared, worried, I didn’t go back to sleep last night if that’s what you mean.” I stated.
Ford felt terrible I had gotten dragged into this, but little does he know I did it to myself. Bill’s infatuation with us was no coincidence.
“Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions. Are you going to tell us we’re finally of age to go to wizard school? Is there an owl in this bag?” Mabel asked hopping in a chair and started to go through the bag Ford had on the table.
“No, I assure you if there is an owl in this bag, he’s long dead.” Ford took the bag from her.
Dipper and her sat down as I stood behind Ford. He pulled out a scroll paper and showed it to the kids, “Now, tell me children, do any of you recognize this symbol?” He holds up a scroll with Bill on it.
They both gasp before Dipper speaks, “Bill.”
“Y-You know him?” Ford was shocked, and so was I.
“Know him!? He’s been terrorizing us all summer. I have so many questions and theories.” Dipper spoke frantically.
“Dipper’s been pretty paranoid since Bill turned him into a living sock puppet.” Mabel added.
“The important thing is, we defeated him twice.” Dipper interjected.
“Once with kittens, and once with tickles.”
“It was a lot more heroic than it sounds.”
I looked at Ford concerned about the kids. This was serious, the fact they have faced Bill. It means he now has access to their minds, especially Dipper. Ford looked back at me with the same concerned look.
“The fact you have dealt with Bill is gravely serious.” Ford spoke up.
“So, how do you know Bill?” Dipper questioned. I knew I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet, and I knew Ford wasn’t ready either.
“Y/n and I have encountered many dark beings in our time, Dipper. What matters now is, his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, no one in this family will be safe.”
I wanted to punch Ford for confirming my suspicions. He was never good at comforting, so I don’t blame him entirely, but I didn’t want those to be confirmed. Neither did the kids as they gasped at what Ford just stated.
“Fortunately there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks.” He unrolls a map onto the table, and grabs a marker, “a way to Bill-proof the shack. All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, here, and here, “he draws circles on the map, “sprinkle some mercury, and let’s see. I always forget the last ingredient.” He flips through Journal 1, “ugh. unicorn hair.”
“That’s not, like, rare, is it?” Dipper asks.
“It’s hopeless. Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”
Mabel began screaming at the top of her lungs. She begged Ford to let her go on this quest to get the hair. Naming everything she has done that proves that she is obsessed with unicorns. Then she mentions that she is probably the most good-hearted person in the room. No one argues with her about that. Ford agrees to let her go, giving her the journal and a crossbow.
“Y/n, you wanna come with me and the girls on this quest?”
“I actually need Y/n here with Dipper and I.” Ford answers before I can say anything.
Mabel shrugs and calls her friends and sets off on the quest for unicorn hair. Ford leads Dipper and I down to the second floor of the basement. A place neither of us have seen yet.
“If we can’t Bill-proof the shack, we’re going to have to do the next best thing. We’re gonna have to Bill-proof our minds.” Ford pulls out a device that strangely looks like a torture device.
Ford begins to turn the machine on and places the metal helmet on Dipper’s head. This must have been the device Ford wanted to use on me a couple weeks ago, but worried my mind would still be vulnerable to his torment because of my dreams.
“So, what is Bill exactly?” Dipper questions.
“No one knows for sure. Accounts differ of his true motivations and origins. I know he is older than our galaxy, and far more twisted.”
“No kidding…” I mumble, still traumatized from my extra time with him in the nightmare realm.
Ford gives a sympathetic look before he continues, “not a physical form, he can only project himself through our thoughts through the mindscape. That’s why he wants this.” Ford holds up the rift, “I dismantled the portal, but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.”
“So how do we keep Bill out of our minds?” Dipper inquired.
“There are a number of ways I personally had a metal plate installed in my head.” Dipper doesn’t believe him, so Ford taps his head proving he does, “but this machine is safer. It will scan your mind, biologically encrypting your thoughts so Bill can’t read them.” Ford switches the screen on, “now, say hello to your thoughts.”
Dipper thoughts play across the screen. Some are interesting, others are utterly embarrassing. I felt bad that his poor thoughts were on display for us.
“By the way, you two never told me what your history with Bill was.”
“Dipper, do you trust us?” Ford asks, and he nods, “then you’ll trust that’s not important. Now, focus. It's time to strengthen your mind.”
The three of us sit there for hours as the machine slowly encrypts Dipper’s thoughts. I look over at Ford who has fallen asleep at his desk. “Must be nice to be able to sleep anywhere…or at all…”
“What’s been going on with you lately by the way? You’re more distant and paranoid, especially today.”
“It’s Bill. He scares the heck out of me. The thought of coming face to face with him in a physical form terrifies me.”
“S-so you had a bad experience with Bill too, huh?”
“I-it wasn’t always like that, Dipper…Bill and I were actually very close…then I got a true peak at what he really wanted…on the other side of my portal…he tortured me…Ford and Stan won’t be happy I am telling you this, but you and Mabel were going to find out eventually…”
“W-Wait, your portal? Y-you didn’t go through with Great Uncle Ford?”
I shake my head, “no…I had made my own. I found an old book in my parents' attic. They used to be Anti-Cipherites, or descendants of some. A group looking to take down Bill. It had an encryption on how to summon him. I did, and that night he appeared to me. He showed me his equation, he tricked me with his flattery, saying I didn’t need school or friends. Helping him would give me everything I ever wanted. Including helping my friend so he could finally go home before his brother left for college….that friend was your Uncle Stan…”
Dipper's eyes widened, “h-how old are you then?”
“Technically 61, but the place I was stuck in has no concept of time, so I never really aged…”
Dipper’s jaw dropped, “s-so you knew Grunkle Stan before he was banned from New Jersey?”
I nodded, “Stan lived with me.”
49 notes
·
View notes