#which was an objectively terrible idea but I didn't know what I was doing and also didn't care | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

genericpuff · 6 months ago

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Hello! I’m just here bc I’m a little confused on what you meant by Smythe drawing out “each individual asset” when she was making comics? Now, granted, I can see that it made her file ginormous, but me personally as someone who knows nothing about making online comics but is really wanting to get into it (and also as someone who has a ‘too many layers’ problem myself), is there a way to avoid using too many layers?

My current way of making comics has been to draw the panels individually and then format them (which I know is terrible management wise and also messes with the quality) but I honestly have no other idea of how to do it properly, and seeing how stunning Lore Rekindled looks, I don’t know how you would manage to put all that lighting effects and little details on the same layers. (But also I may be thinking of it wrong so I’ll let you talk qwq)

Ah I can actually give you a visual breakdown of what I meant by that!

So in this you can see there are a TON of layers, and not even all of them are visible because some of them are stuffed into FOLDERS that have been left closed. BUT if you look REEEEALLY carefully-

^^^ These layers right here? That's specifically Minthe from this panel in Episode 61:

(the unique pose here makes it real easy to tell that this is the corresponding panel, you can see the matching body shape with the dark shading that's clipped to the base layer below it!)

So what this means is that Rachel didn't draw all her characters on one base layer, she drew every single character in every single panel separately. Now of course, she could merge all these layers together as working on separate layers helps make it easier to work on elements that collide separately (like one character being 'underneath' another character like Hades is here) but because she has all of those clipping layers with the shading already added in, she likely didn't merge them afterwards because that would actually create MORE problems (because if she merged the Minthe layer in with Hades, then the shading for Minthe that she painted outside of the lines would show up on Hades and then she'd have to erase it which is just a bunch of extra work).

You can also tell all these characters are on their own layer because the layer thumbnail EXCLUSIVELY shows those characters. A layer will show as much canvas length as it needs to cover what's in that layer, so if the thumbnail is only showing one character, that means there's NOTHING ELSE on that layer. If there were more elements on this layer than just Minthe, the layer thumbnail would look more like this:

Now let's compare it to Rekindled's layers! I'll use a completed page to make it fair as we use a lot of extra layers in the post-production phase where we add the texture effects and glow and all that fun stuff, plus I'll even make it a more complicated page like that big nymph explanation spread from Episode 51:

So I'll break it down to make this make more sense:

BG 2 Copy (technically this is supposed to be BG 1) - Basically the panel shapes, what I'll do is mark out the panels with flat blocks and through that we'll add background elements in a clipping layer (usually done by Banshriek). Often times they'll do multiple layers to make the process easier and then merge them all together in the end. With these shapes operating as panels, it means I can just auto select the whole layer, invert the selection, and easily erase whatever's outside of it (such as the lineart and base colors that I put down afterwards). I could just use masking layers like I did in [AFTERBIRTH] but I find this way works better for the process of making Rekindled.

BG 2 - This is where we add objects / foreground elements. So stuff like furniture, interactables, anything that needs to be kept separate from the larger background to make it easier to work with. This can also include "floating" panels that need to be above other panels, such as this:

All of the backgrounds are then nested in a folder for organization purposes (we also sometimes use clipping layers on top of those folders to apply extra effects over anything contained within that folder without affecting other folders, that's a common technique that Banshriek applies)

Then we get into our Characters folder:

BASE - This is where I do the majority of my work, all the characters in every panel on a page are flatted into this layer. Sometimes I do have to create separate layers to, again, make it easier to work with overlapping characters, but usually those layers will be merged before I go into the shading process. I simply shade on a single layer by using the lasso / magic wand tool to select my area for painting, the flat colors make it really easy to do that. Sometimes I need to create a secondary shading layer if I've put down dark colors that start to bleed into the lighter colors, but again, I merge when I'm done into a single shading layer. We also sometimes employ an Add (Glow) layer into the clipping set if we need a glow effect that's exclusive to the characters and doesn't travel outside of their base colors.

There's a (leaves) layer here that I used for the dryad because I needed the leaves to be above the base layer, after that I selected the leaves elements so that I could erase the lineart in the layer above it where needed.

LINEART - It's lineart, enough said haha That said, I do think Rachel actually uses clipping layers for her lineart in places, it seems to be visible in some of her process videos where you can see the lineart present in a clipping layer, and that would explain why there are panels where the lineart suddenly 'cuts off' and doesn't travel outside of the base layer, like so:

GLOW - This is where we do an Add (Glow) layer that isn't restricted to the base layer, it's where we add all the fun lil' glow and sparkle effects over the characters !

The CLOUDS layer is, like the leaves, a background element that needs to be above the base layers rather than constricted to the background.

Above the Characters folder you can see what I mentioned earlier where Banshriek has added more post-production effects that are exclusively clipped to the contents of the Characters folder. This means the effects / blend modes do NOT affect the background layers or anything above it.

The BLUR (Overlay) layer is something we just started doing over the past several episodes, it's a technique I actually picked up from 66 of City of Blank where I merge all the layers into a new visible layer which I then apply a Gaussian Blur to at around 60% and then set to Overlay (and then I adjust the layer opacity until it looks right, usually around 25-35%), it gives it a bit of a softer "dreamier" vibe in the final colors and really helps unify everything!

CANVAS - This is an Overlay layer which is also set to an opacity of 25-35% where I go over the panels with the Add Canvas brush from the Kyle Webster set, unlike the Canvas overlay texture in CSP I can actually choose the colors I want to use which means I can match the canvas texture color to the mood and environment of the scene (ex. I'll use a very light blue for scenes in the Underworld). Not only does it give it that signature texture from S1 of LO, but it also helps balance out the effects of the BLUR layer.

The SKETCH layer sits on top of everything and gets turned off once all the base layers and lineart are down, and ofc the SPEECH folder is just where all the text is kept.

I know everything I just laid out is a LOT but ultimately it's how we operate, it works for us! But it also begs the question of why Rachel operates the way she does because a lot of it seems extremely unnecessary and more likely to bite her in the ass (the more layers there are, the bigger your file size gets, the risk of drawing on the wrong layer increases as well as the risk of posting a panel that's missing elements because the layer was left turned off by mistake, etc.) And it's more so concerning with how she operates with her assistants because if she's still using this many layers when collaborating with other people, hooo boy. Though based on what I've observed of what her assistants contribute, I get a lot more of the sense that she circumvents this by having the artists do the flats separately and then importing them in as separate assets that she then just imports into the page and places them where they need to be. Still not a great workflow IMO because it's what's led to a lot of the issues of characters "floating" rather than feeling like they're actually in the environment-

-but that's still an issue that could be solved by Rachel just taking more time to actually flesh out the backgrounds and lighting to give more of an impression of the characters actually existing in the space. Like that Hestia panel could easily be fixed by just giving the background a bit more detail and putting actual shading underneath her (and lighting from whatever direction it's coming from).

Either way, regardless of whether or not Rachel's process is productive or not, I hope that breakdown helps explain how we do it in Rekindled! Learning how to manage layers is definitely a skill that can be tricky to harness, but once it "clicks" there's a lot you can get away with. Ultimately how you do it is up to you, but my best piece of advice to offer is to just be open to other types of workflows because you don't know how much you might be shooting yourself in the foot doing things the hard way when there are often way easier and more efficient ways to get the same job done. That's basically the vibe I get from observing Rachel's workflow, it seems like she's still using methods that she thinks are working for her (and probably did work just fine for her when it was JUST her) but could be vastly improved for her and her team if she'd just get over the initial hump of stepping outside of her comfort zone. Would probably make for a better comic too LOL

I hope that helps! Good luck! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore rekindled #webcomic advice

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 4 months ago

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So, in addition to a preview of the Norm one-shot, I've got this look at part one of a long-form two-shot that's been sitting in my drafts since I was about halfway through my first run of the show. I have a (now quite old) ask that fit the vibe of it perfectly, and I've been whittling away at it when the inspiration strikes. I still have quite a bit of work to do on it, including edits, as I'm predicting a final length between 13k-15k words. Could end up more, as I'm really terrible at this sort of estimation, but I wanted to let everyone know I'm still hard at work in the smut mines even if posts have been light lately. Please enjoy a preview from this upcoming Cooper Howard/The Ghoul piece:

Faim Pour Deux

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, drug use, jealousy, mild violence, age gap, sexually rusty old men, amateurish strip teases, nipple play, fingering, dry humping, reader not-so-subtly trying to tempt Cooper to fuck her until he snaps.

"Why don't you get a little more comfortable, darlin'?" Cooper asked, his tone brighter now, a step closer to the normal, cocky timbre you'd known him to have, but still soft as the patter of the rain on the dilapidated roof as he gestured to your unzipped vault suit. "Hop up and take that off for me."

You didn't hesitate to follow his instructions, though you struggled to figure out how to back up off of his lap as your feet dangled off the floor. Cooper offered no assistance, sitting back to watch you slide yourself backwards towards his knees, your cleavage spilling out of your undershirt as you pushed yourself with your hands. Once you found your feet, cheeks already hot from your fumbling dismount, you toed out of your boots before clearing your throat, hands coming up to your navel to grab at the cool metal zipper where it hung, half-undone.

"Take a couple steps back so I can see all of you."

This command took you somewhat by surprise, but, again, you obeyed, double checking the floor behind you before taking two steps back, avoiding his eyes. Rethinking your approach, you grabbed your left sleeve by the wrist in your right hand, tugging it awkwardly to free your arm, jerking the tight material down over your sore bicep in a rather unsexy move before twisting to repeat the move on the right.

Twilight was quickly turning to night, and the few chem lamps you'd set up only provided enough light to see well a few feet in front of you. Shyly, you stole a quick glance his way, struggling to make out any details at this distance, save for the shape and slight glint of his flask as he lifted it to his mouth and took a long draw off of it. His entire upper body was almost completely shrouded in the deepening shadows, but you could see those eyes, sunken deep into that face, glittering darkly at you, trained on you.

"Slowly, now." came that rough voice once more, slightly muffled by the back of his hand passing over what remained of his lips. "Gimme a little show."

You felt your face instantly flame up twice as hot as it had been, your already fluttering heart shifting up another gear into a full-on thunder. You had no idea what he meant—undressing itself wasn't enough of a show? Were you supposed to sing and dance while you did it? Recite US Presidents?

A handful of heartbeats passed, and you realized you were hesitating, but the ghoul in the corner didn't say anything. Your focus shifted, warily, back to removing your remaining sleeve, choosing to work it down from the shoulder instead, this time, focusing on the "slowly" until you could figure out the "show" part. After a few moments, you'd worked the top half of the grimy vault suit down to your hips, letting the arms hang loose at your sides.

If Cooper objected to the way you were going about things, he kept quiet about it, which would be uncharacteristic. He sat, still staring at you, reclined back in the chair as he reached for something else on the table beside him. The familiar sound of a shaking Jet container filled the air as you grabbed the stained, barely-mended tank by the hem, peeling it over you head, leaving you in nothing but your now sad, ratty bra above the waist. The hiss of the canister buzzed down your spine as the material passed over your eyes, giving you goosebumps as you looked to him once more, feeling drawn to that gaze. Your hands moved back to your waist to push the garment the rest of the way down, brushing across your soft abdomen on the way.

The ghoul interrupted you, wordless, his mouth fixed in a sort of pucker as he held the hit of Jet deep in his lungs. He snapped quickly, sharply, his free hand raising up off of the scuffed chair arm, his sewn-on index finger pointed to the ceiling, drawing a series of tight, quick circles with it. You'd seen that gesture before, you realized, feeling that squirming feeling in your gut again. Quickly, you turned to face the door, your back now pointing at your companion.

The feeling of his intense stare still burned into your back, but knowing that, at least for a moment, he couldn't see your face, couldn't read every single thought and emotion off of your like he seemed to so often be able to, let you breathe slightly easier. The arousal that simmered between your thighs was rolling into a boil as you pushed your rear out, back towards him, bending forward ever-so-slightly at the waist as you slowly, slowly rolled the increasingly restricting suit down over your buttocks.

You could swear you heard him sigh in the dark.

Shimmying until the entire garment hit the floor, pooling around your ankles in a faint cloud of dust, you stepped out of it as delicately as possible, sliding it beside your bag with your foot. As you straightened back to your full height, you decided to turn and face him, making eye contact as he took another hit from the inhaler, setting it aside as he leaned back fully into the chair. He tilted his head sideways at you, studying you for a few quiet seconds.

"Let your hair down." he said, voice strained with exhalation.

It took a moment to wrestle your hair down from the old elastic that kept it out of your face, but when the tendrils tickled down your back at last, it made you shiver, your body tingling.

The old man was silent for several seconds, looking you up and down with an expression that was tough to decipher. You'd almost begun to worry that he didn't like what he was seeing before one of his hands snaked down from the arm rest into his lap, palming at his crotch visibly. The other hand extended towards you, that deadly trigger finger crooking towards you commandingly, his gaze never leaving you.

"C'mere, kiddo."

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #fallout prime #fallout tv show #admin post

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ryin-silverfish · 7 months ago

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I really like Azure Lion as a character. Yeah, you can stop following me now. /j

But no, seriously, I like how LMK has adapted this particular character, given him way more potential complexity than his novel counterpart——not that it's a high bar, the LCR trio of JTTW are just demon warlords living in a literal human slaughterhouse.

Which is why I deeply dislike the take that "Oh, Azure manipulated SWK into fighting the JE! He's just using him like a pawn!" Like, wow, way to completely butcher two characters' personality and agency in one go.

Such takes reduce SWK to some innocent kid, when he is at most an impulsive, daring teenager who haven't met a single real obstacle so far——he robbed the dragon kings blind, and they couldn't do a thing! He struck his name and all his monkeys' names off the Book of Life and Death! What couldn't he do?

And Azure's failing isn't him telling a toddler: "You know what? Driving your tricycle into oncoming traffic will be real fun, trust me kiddo." It's letting his friend go way over the speed limit and not telling him that he should maybe, y'know, slow down, bc he'd seen his epic driving skills, SWK's the bestest driver he ever met, surely nothing would happen!

(And also, no one in that car is sober, except Macaque.)

What I'm getting at here is, even without Azure, SWK is not gonna be content with sitting on his mountain, eating peaches forever. Hell, he sure doesn't in the novel, where his demon king brothers are little more than namedropped NPCs.

He is always gonna want more, chase after greater destinies, drown out that existential ennui and fear of death at the back of his mind with bigger and bigger power-ups and the laughters of his companions.

He told himself he would be content after getting this one thing he wanted. That he could stop at any time. But alas, like any ADHDer, he will not stop at this one exciting thing, and sooner or later, the boredom sets in, and he gets ideas and impulsively leaps into making them reality.

That is the Mind Monkey at his worst: being a whirlwind of chaos, while unknowingly enslaved to his own chaotic mind.

(In the book, this is Wu Cheng'en's reminder to the reader that, even though you shouldn't keep your heart constantly under lock and keys, Neo-Confucian style, the other extreme——letting it go completely wild, disregarding all external rules and consequences, can be equally disastrous.)

And when that car was driven through the Celestial Palace's front door, off a bridge, and straight into a ditch, it was him in the driver's seat, steering the wheels the whole time.

Everyone else in that car failed terribly as friends when they didn't voice any objections, or try to get him off the driver's seat, or realize that cheering and egging him on is an awful idea, however genuine their blind trust was.

Like, they are certainly not helping, and made the situation much, much worse. If you let your buddy drive while under influence and hand him more beers in the car, even if you are also drunk out of your mind and aren't actively trying to get him into a traffic accident, you are a shitty, irresponsible friend.

But the thing is? SWK is still responsible for the consequences of his decisions. He could have stopped, by his own volition, and no one was holding a gun to his head and forcing him to drive. He, too, wanted this.

That, to me, makes a much more interesting narrative than "Poor innocent baby SWK was puppeted into becoming the Great Sage in Heaven by shady blue cat, how awful!"

Oh, and since I'm feeling particularly salty today, I'll also ask some last questions: is SWK so weak-willed and devoid of self-agency to you that he couldn't even OWE his most famous title, the Great Sage in Heaven, 100%, without being manipulated into it?

Is SWK so immature and unintelligent to you that he is incapable of being a genuine idealist or rebel, that he cannot agree, out of the depth of his heart, that the Celestial Realm sucks balls and needs better management?

TL;DR: Havoc! Era Azure Lion isn't some cult leader brainwashing this kid into becoming his figurehead. He's the dumbass who's too busy staring at his teenage crush to care about the blaring police sirens.

Also, I had a bit of an epiphany after writing this: why am I so annoyed by people reading Azure's idealization of SWK as him intentionally manipulating and love-bombing him? Because it is a very western and modern reading.

For someone with traditional Confucian beliefs, it is perfectly normal——it is what you are supposed to feel, as a liege who has found your just and virtuous lord.

If Romance of the Three Kingdoms existed back then, he would probably describe himself as the Guan Yu to SWK's Liu Bei, however wonky the analogy was.

(Gosh, now I want a "Four Classics read each other" crossover.)

I'm not saying it is healthy or wise. But under this context, putting your lord on a pedestral was normalized, and even encouraged, as the virtue of a righteous gentleman. It was the sort of ideals romanticized culture-wide. NOT having such beliefs would probably make you look weird.

And since the Celestial Realm in the novel is a parody of Confucian hierarchy in a Daoist trenchcoat, it was really no surprise that an idealistic ex-celestial soldier would hold the same beliefs.

To torture the analogy further, the problem is that he was trying to be the Guan Yu to SWK's Liu Bei, when the Brotherhood had more in common with the Bandits of the Marsh, down to their giant downer ending.

#lego monkie kid #azure lion #lmk azure lion #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong #rant #chinese literature #journey to the west

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abattre · 9 months ago

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It's actually so disappointing that Naruto's narrative took the route that it did. Kishimoto created an incredibly interesting world and premise, and ruined it by having everything amount to a shallow message of forgiveness that undermines almost every meaningful element in the story. And it's like,, I want to appreciate the world outside of the plot, but the moral framing of the story makes it virtually impossible because of how disingenuous it is. It completely undermines the audience's understanding of the tragedy and horror of the world so that Naruto becoming Hokage and being the most powerful person in the world by the end doesn't come across as distasteful as it actually is.

Like it's made abundantly clear throughout the story that the village system, and Shinobi society as a whole, is incredibly flawed. Kishimoto goes out of his way to show us that Konoha's council is made up of objectively horrible people. We see first hand how the council's short-sighted ideas of what 'protecting the village' means results in devastating tragedy for people both in Konoha and outside of it. It's clear in how Danzo and the rest of the council act that their atrocious behaviour is them just blatantly abusing their power to maintain their authority. The council has no remorse in anything they do; human experimentation, genocide, slavery, and blatant exploitation is all fair game to them if it preserves their status quo. And instead of maybe, like, addressing Konoha's skewed morality in a sensible way and setting the village up for reform, the narrative just tries forcing the audience to perceive Konoha's genuinely heinous actions as necessities. Which, you know, will work when you're like 8, but once you've grown up and developed some reading comprehension and critical thinking,,, it just feels annoyingly manipulative.

At its core, Naruto is a story that attempts to deconstruct morality. Like this is abundantly clear in how Kishimoto is constantly paralleling the dichotomy of good and evil literally every chance he gets. In the end though, this dichotomy just doesn't work in the context of the Naruto story because the narrative framing of the village being the good guys is just hysterically ridiculous. Konoha is an awful place, that does awful things, and is run by awful people that refuse to change anything because it benefits them for the village to remain awful forever. To anyone with a developed sense of media literacy the village cannot in any way be framed as morally good, so when the story resolves itself with Naruto becoming next in line to govern Konoha under the same unchanging authoritarian regime, with the same council supporting him because of his sheer physical prowess and complete dedication to their twisted ideology,,, it's honestly just an incredibly underwhelming conclusion to a story that made itself out to be more profound than it actually is.

If I had to guess, I imagine Kishimoto just didn't think through how negatively the world he created would reflect on the plot. Ultimately though, you can't write a moral story that's so deeply entrenched in real world social inequity and decide halfway through that because you don't know how to fix these things your story's going to have to be about how they're actually okay to be doing and perpetuating,,, like that is awful and also a terrible lesson to impart on an audience of children. With how serious the issues are in Shinobi society, trying to resolve things with the power of friendship was always going to fall flat. These broad scale injustices can't be brushed aside in that way without undermining their severity and diminishing the understandable impact they had on the characters that experienced such extreme oppression. That's essentially the trap that Naruto's conclusion falls into though, and so the story just ends up feeling incomplete and unfulfilling because none of the issues brought up are actually addressed or discussed with the gravity they deserve.

#i guess kishimoto was hoping the aliens would distract us or something #i love the naruto world but i can't stand the pro-konoha rhetoric like it's just so bad #anti konoha #anti naruto ending #anti shinobi system #pro uchiha #pro sasuke uchiha #pro neji hyuuga

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 4 months ago

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Maybeeee it's the beginning of summer, Donna and reader are sitting on the porch. Reader asks Donna about her nationality, Donna says how much she would like to go to Italy, but she is grounded in this place. A few days later, reader announced that she had bought a few Italian movies and vinyl records from duke. One day, the reader finds Donna crying while listening to her favorite Italian song…

Please give Donna some comfort!!!

Yess!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))

Take me home

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt & comfort, Donna being Donna

Word count: 6,209

Summary: You want her to feel happy, to remember her childhood. Maybe it's not such a good idea...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!

With a sigh, you plopped down on one of the chairs on the porch. The weather had improved considerably, since that kind of illusion known as summer would soon begin. Yes, it could only be a couple of days in which the cold of Romania was not so terrible and the sun gave a bit of its heat to melt the white landscape, but for you, it was the best time of the year.

The village was gloomy, sinister, like a constant reminder that all the people who lived there were prisoners of the same darkness. Like an undiscovered island or a lost place in a remote jungle, your existence was nothing but a myth, a legend to anyone not born there.

The darkness, Mother Miranda, the Lords... Everything around you formed the false sense of protection that kept its inhabitants oblivious to the outside world.

You might not have settled for that kind of life, you were always a little more restless than the rest of the people your age. But that restlessness, those whishes to improve your life, even if they were just fantasies, ended the day your tasks as a farmer took you beyond the forest, to discover one of the villagers' common fears.

Donna Beneviento, disturbed, lonely, dark woman... She seemed to be a living legend, something that you couldn't be sure existed despite seeing her every time Mother Miranda told you how good and faithful you were.

A Lord who would probably despise any kind of human approach, or so you thought.

Emboldened by your lack of resources, you decided to cross the threshold of security and tranquility, and offer the fruit of your labor to the lady in black. You were able to return, you were able to return home, and return again and again to the mansion.

What could have caught her attention about you? You didn't know, and soon you started thinking about it at night. The nights, those thinking routines became almost necessary as time went on.

After several months of Donna being your main focus every day, you were finally able to recognize that those thoughts and deliberations were a simple reminder. You really had feelings for her.

Fortunately, the feeling became mutual and, after discovering the beauty the black veil hid, that day, the day of your first kiss, you didn’t return home, you never would.

Sitting on the porch of the old estate, you dedicated your thoughts to thinking about the multiple coincidences that led you to the point where you were, where you wanted to be.

The door opened slowly, and out came the object of your thoughts, the doll maker, carrying a tray with two glasses filled with a thick red liquid.

“Oh, Donna,” you said, waking up from your usual daydream of memories, smiling at the lady so she could do the same, so she could gladden your heart with that beautiful smile, the most beautiful in the world.

“Here tesoro, today is a hot day,” she said, with a soft, hoarse, rarely used voice, one that reached your ears like a soft melody, like a hypnotic song that made you close your eyes and simply let yourself go.

“Thank you,” you said happily, taking one of the glasses and indicating the brunette to sit next to you. Curious, you looked at the contents and moved it with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?”

“Gazpacho,” Donna responded, just after stealing a kiss from your lips, one of those improvised kisses that made you daydream. “It's like tomato juice, but a bit thicker. It is very good to fight the heat.”

You nodded and shrugged, taking a small sip and nodding pleased, with a smile.

“Delicious...” you murmured amused, sighing to relax, now next to her. “Someday you have to teach me how to make all these Italian recipes,” you whispered with a knowing voice.

Donna laughed and shook her head, drinking from her own glass.

“I'll teach you whenever you want, (Y/N), but gazpacho is not Italian,” the lady in black explained. You blinked confused. “It is a Spanish recipe.”

“Oh, Spain... The country of the sun,” you murmured curiously. The lady nodded with a smile, looking into the distance, just like you. “Well, I haven't been that wrong either, they are close.”

Donna laughed again, shaking her head, enjoying your innocent conversations, conversations that you wondered about how long they were absent in her life, how many decades Donna was only sharing her life with the sinister Angie doll.

“Yes, more or less,” she whispered, raising her eyebrows, moving her hand on the table until it reached yours.

Looking at the bright landscape around you, letting yourself be calmed by the sound of the waterfall, you closed your eyes, imagining what it would be like to be able to have that feeling for longer, to be able to enjoy a real summer, without cold, without darkness. You always dreamed of those places that seemed to have the favor of the sun, those places where happiness and light were part of the daily routine.

“It must be amazing,” you commented, letting the air that came out of your lungs betray a melancholic sigh. Donna looked at you, breaking out of her own thoughts.

“Mm?” she asked, now looking at you, continuing to caress your hand with the softness and delicacy of her fingers.

“I mean… Italy… Well, you know...” you said, finishing your glass and getting lost in the landscape again.

“It is,” she said, with a slightly more serious voice, looking away from you. You leaned forward, curiosity beginning to plague your thoughts.

“Have you ever been there? I mean, you're Italian, right?” you asked, with a higher tone, with the tone you used to let your girlfriend know you wanted to have a conversation.

Donna sighed and made a strange face, nodding slowly. A fake smile crossed her face shortly after that.

“Well, my family is Italian, I was born here,” she explained with a calm voice, with a shadow in her eye that you should have seen. “But I guess you could say so.”

You nodded, listening with curiosity to the lady's words, which were beginning to break. You were never too careful with what you said, you never stopped to think about how sensitive poor Donna was, how hurt her mind was.

“So have you ever been...?” you said amused, with a smile that you hoped would be a relaxing one. She nodded slowly, squeezing your hand tighter, leaning back in the chair.

“Yes,” she answered dryly, looking to your intertwined fingers. “My grandmother had a house in Tuscany. We used to go there in summer.”

“In summer... Well, it doesn't surprise me,” you said amused, nodding to agree with her. “Who would want to stay here in summer?”

“I guess we were lucky to be able to go out...” she murmured, with a softer voice, lower, that betrayed sadness.

“What do you mean?” you asked, shifting in your chair to hear her better. Donna sighed and shook her head, biting her lip.

“Don't you think it's strange that my family could leave this place?” she asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye, as if she were stating an undeniable truth that you couldn't see.

“Well, now that you mention it...” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck.

It was true. No one had ever left the village. The conversation seemed to be getting interesting.

“The Beneviento family, my family, descended directly from one of the founders of the village. Years ago, Miranda's laws were not so strict, and anyone who had enough lei to pay for her approval could leave this place, with the promise of returning, of course.”

“Oh, I didn't know,” you said, blinking in confusion.

“That was many years ago...” she sighed, looking at the bottom of her empty glass, looking for something to distract herself with. “Before… Things were not so…”

“Difficult,” you finished the sentence for her, nodding at the same time, perfectly understanding the reason for her sudden sadness.

Yes, you remembered the adults talking about other times when the darkness of the village was gray and not completely black. Only the undisputed leader of the place, the Almighty Mother Miranda, knew what her reasons were for keeping you all locked up like laboratory rats.

“Well so... What was that like? Was it as idyllic as the books say?” you asked with a different tone, more informal and fun, managing to get a sincere smile from the brunette, who looked at you tenderly.

“I guess that's quite subjective,” she commented amused, with her gaze lost again, playing erratically with your hand, probably without realizing it. “For me it was… Paradise.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded interested in knowing a little more about the lady in black, a little more about the woman you wanted to spend your entire life with, about the only light that illuminated your darkness.

“Those fields, that light that entered the room in the morning... I wouldn't know how to explain it correctly, (Y/N),” she murmured, focused on her thoughts.

You sighed, disappointed at not being able to satisfy your curiosity towards the outside world. Donna cleared her throat and gripped your hand tighter, changing that veiled sadness into a wide smile and a confident look.

“Maybe I can show you,” she whispered, moving her chair closer to yours. You looked at her suspiciously but with a mischievous smile. “Close your eyes, tesoro.”

After a few seconds of small defiance, you obeyed, feeling how your other hand was also grabbed by hers, how her caresses began to cause strange sensations in your body.

The refreshing humidity of the waterfall disappeared in a few seconds, replacing the smell of the water with that of fresh grass, by the pure smell of the countryside. A beautiful landscape began to form in your mind, full of shapes, colors, and rays of sun forming golden reflections in an old house.

“Nonna, nonna!”

A little girl ran into the arms of an older woman, who picked her up with laughter and loving kisses.

“Donna, mia piccola ragazza...” the old woman sighed, turning the girl around in her arms.

“Look, nonna, this is Angie, she is my new friend,” the little girl said.

That black hair, that much more subtle scar, that look, Donna.

“Oh, ciao, Angie,” the woman said, shaking the wooden hand that Donna offered her.

“Dad made her for me,” the little girl explained, earning another shower of kisses from her grandmother.

The conversation faded and gave way to more images, more memories that entered your mind. Granddaughter and grandmother were cooking in a funny way, with almost inaudible music in the background.

“It's too high, nonna,” the girl said, jumping comically, trying to reach a cupboard in that old kitchen.

“Va bene, Donna,” answered the old woman, extending her arms to take her. “But you already know what you have to do, right?”

The girl nodded with an innocent smile.

“Sei pronto?” asked the old woman. Young Donna nodded. “Sing with me, tesoro.”

“Volare... Oh...Cantare...” they both sang while the girl rose into the air thanks to her grandmother.

Images, brief flashes of laughter, memories, running through the countryside, playing with Angie... All those memories that didn't belong to you flooded your mind, forcing you to smile at that tenderness, that innocence of poor Donna, one that you knew would end.

“What did you said?” the old woman asked, during another of those memories, one heavier, more distressing, the memory of a quiet summer dinner. “I don't think you're being serious.”

“I'm sorry, mother, but...”

“Luca, you unfortunate stronzo...” the woman protested, banging the table hard, which disturbed the rest of little Donna, who was sleeping next to Angie in a corner of that garden, tenderly covered by a blanket. “Haven't you thought about your daughter?”

“Donna is fine in the village,” the adult man responded, with a dangerous look, a look that was too familiar. “It's where she has to be.”

“You know that's not true,” the woman hissed.

“Donna is sick, mother. She doesn't interact with children her age,” the younger woman explained, with a sad look at the girl.

“Mm, maybe she is sick for living in a place like that, Bernadette,” the old woman said, stabbing her fork into the table.

“I'm not going to argue, Giovanna. Mother Miranda watches over us and protects us,” the man said, joining his hands to show respect to the Black Gods.

“Is this how you plan to take care of your daughter? Putting her in the hands of a strega?” Donna’s grandmother protested, getting up from her chair. “Donna has to be here, she is happy here.”

“Mother...” the adult woman sighed, scared by her mother's reaction.

“Do you want to keep our daughter? Good luck,” the man said, with a gruff tone, also standing up. “Come on, Bernadette, take the girl and say goodbye, we will never return to where we’re not respected…”

Like a spasm, all those shared sensations disappeared and you opened your eyes, breathing heavily. Donna was next to you, breathing the same way. After sighing, she looked down, wiping away a tear that slid down her cheek.

“Donna,” you sighed, feeling sorry for that jumble of emotions that she shared with you, a trip to her deepest memories.

“That was the last time I left the village,” she commented, looking away from you again.

“I understand,” you said, with a softer tone.

“It’s so unfair!” the lady shouted, hitting the small table with her fist, making the glasses shake dangerously, threatening to fall if you hadn't picked them up.

“Hey, hey, honey, come on, relax,” you said, holding her wrists so they wouldn't hit the table, thus preventing her from hurting herself again.

“I, I was happy there, I...” she murmured, her gaze lost again, unhinged, protesting against your grip. “I want, I want to go back but, but I can't…”

You, not knowing what to say, sighed, biting your lip, regretful for bringing to light another of her traumas.

“Please, Donna, don’t, don't cry,” you stammered.

“I’m, I’m trapped here forever and... I will never, never be able to return to what I truly considered my home... Miranda adopted me and... Without, without knowing it, I condemned myself and...”

“Shhh, come on, come on, everything is fine. You're here with me, Donna, I'm here with you. This is our home, the place where you and I are,” you said with a soft voice.

She closed her eye and breathed deeply, calming her dementia, even if it was just for a moment.

“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered, turning away from your comfort and standing up from the chair. “I'm going, I'm going to pick this up.”

“Wait, wait, Donna, please,” you said in a low voice, unable to prevent the lady from disappearing from the place. Frustrated, you huffed, crossing your arms. “Donna…”

“Hey! You!” A shrill voice interrupted that tense moment. If nothing else was missing to make you nervous...

Angie, the sinister doll, now alive, was comically walking towards you, climbing up the chair.

“My Donna doesn't want to talk to me, you made her cry again!” she rebuked you, placing her wooden hand on your face, a hand you abruptly moved away, with an annoyed growl.

“It wasn't on purpose,” you protested, trying to ignore the doll's accusations.

“It's never on purpose, stupid, stupid,” Angie said, with a mocking tone. “But my Donna always ends up crying and what a coincidence, you are always around.”

You squeezed your eyes with your fingers and shook your head, looking again at the landscape in front of you, now devoid of the sun's rays. As if the weather itself were related to Donna's feelings, a few fine drops of rain spoiled that pleasant summer afternoon.

“Great,” you lamented, burying your hands in your face, hands that were separated by Angie's, still ready to scold you for something you hadn't done.

“Mean, (Y/N), you are mean!” the doll shouted.

“Hey, I was just… Talking,” you defended yourself awkwardly, looking at the rain in frustration. “I always end up screwing up things.”

“Yes, yes, it's your favorite sport,” the doll said, sitting next to you.

“Eh, what nonsense is that about not being able to leave the village? Donna isn't just any villager,” you asked, hoping the puppet knew something else about it. Donna Beneviento was a Lord, after all.

The doll shrugged.

“Miranda's laws,” she explained briefly, taking her sinister gaze away from you. “No one can leave, no matter who you are.”

“Yeah, of course, I should have imagined it...” you sighed, with a grimace of disgust. “I would like to be able to take her to Italy.”

“Italy? Impossible, impossible,” the doll said, with a screeching voice that destroyed your ears. You rolled your eyes and bit back an insult.

“I know it's impossible, damn it,” you said with a gruff voice, clenching your fists. “That's why I said, I would like to do it.”

“Silly, stupid,” Angie insulted you with a sinister laugh.

“Oh, that I want to make your Donna happy does seem silly to you?” you said, with an ironic, mocking tone.

“Make her happy? You have a curious way to do it. As far as I know, happy people don't cry,” Angie mocked, making you stand up from the chair with an angry growl.

“Do you want to shut up? Stop torturing me and…” you hissed, remaining speechless when a crazy idea crossed your mind. You spent a few seconds thinking if it was really a good idea, and you came to the conclusion that it was.

“A lycan got your tongue, stupid?” Angie asked, leaning over you unpleasantly.

“Hey, I'm thinking...” you whispered, not paying attention to the doll's unpleasant comments. “Maybe, maybe I can't take her to Italy but... What if Italy comes to her?”

“You're dumber than I thought,” the doll said, amused, shaking that sinister porcelain head.

“Whatever, I'm going to call the Duke,” you whispered, passively pushing the puppet away and entering the house again.

It might seem like Angie was right, and it was stupid, but deep in your heart it seemed like the right thing to do.

Donna will never return to that place where everything was happiness, she could never do it, and neither can you. The contradictory feeling of worshiping a megalomaniacal priestess and at the same time feeling tied to that place for all eternity was something Donna couldn't bear, something her fragile mind couldn't understand.

Unfortunately, maybe you were the one to blame for her realizing it and because of that, you wanted to redeem yourself for your unconscious actions.

The days passed calmly. Donna seemed to have forgotten that conversation, her smile had returned to her face, but not completely, there was still a hint of nostalgia and helplessness in her eye, something that you believed you were capable of making her forget.

“Have you got everything?” you asked days later, when the Duke appeared at the door of the estate with an inquisitive look, well, like he always has.

“Everything, Miss (Y/N)” the merchant said, bringing a large bag full of items to you with an agonized sigh.

You, suspicious, took a look.

“Okay...” you murmured, taking the vinyl records, the old movies that you had ordered. “I guess now comes a round of questions.”

“Yes, well,” the Duke laughed. “You don't have to answer them but…”

“But...” you repeated, crossing your arms.

“If you do it, perhaps my generous soul will be kind enough to give you a discount. What you asked me for is not easy to find, you know...” he said with an evil tone, with the tone of the unfeeling merchant that he really was.

“20%,” you said, frowning, used to negotiating with that extravagant man.

“Oh, please, I'm not charity,” he protested, rejecting your offer in a funny way. “5%”

“15% and you can ask two questions to me,” you counterattacked, making the man sigh contentedly.

“Well, why do you want this stuff?” the Duke asked, without waiting even half a second. You knew that information was his favorite money.

“I want to surprise Donna,” you answered, looking at the covers of those old vinyl records. “You know, I want to make her feel like she’s in Italy, at least for a while.”

“Oh, interesting...” the man murmured, looking for something in his carriage. “Then this will come in very handy,” he whispered, bringing you what looked like a book of Italian recipes. “There is nothing better to feel at home than a plate of warm food, don't you think?”

“Yes, of course, good idea,” you said with a smile.

“But…”

“But…” you growled, narrowing your eyes.

“I'm afraid that the discount would no longer be available and...” the Duke said, feigning disinterest.

You snorted, gritting your teeth, and tossed a bag of coins into the carriage.

“Here, you greedy fat idiot,” you said in a dark tone, but with a knowing smile on your face. The truth is you liked that man quite a bit.

“It was a pleasure to do business with you...” the merchant murmured, moving his carriage.

“Hey, wait a minute,” you said, leafing through that shiny book. “It’s written in Italian! Hey! Damn…”

Shaking your head, you walked back into the old house.

Carefully, you hid your new acquisitions, ready to go down to the kitchen and prepare dinner, something you hadn't really thought about before. But you still needed help.

“Donna and (Y/N) kiss under a tree...” Angie sang, walking through the hallways. You ran towards her, stopping the doll in her tracks.

“Hey! Angie!” you called, eliciting an annoyed growl from the doll. “I need your help.”

Luckily, the doll agreed.

“Three, no, four tablespoons of flour...” the doll read while you struggled with the package, huffing at the doll's incorrigible attitude.

“Three or four?” you asked, crossing your arms, with the heat of the kitchen preventing you from thinking clearly.

“Eight,” the doll said, amused.

“Angie…”

“Okay, okay... Two,” the puppet finally said, turning the page of that book.

You clenched the spoon in your fist and obeyed, glancing at the oven from time to time.

“What else?” you asked, adjusting the temperature.

“A bit of yeast, sugar, and two gallons of stupid (Y/N)’s juice,” Angie joked, making you wish it was the doll that was in the oven, and not that lasagna.

“How funny,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you want to do help me?”

“I'm helping you,” the doll protested.

“I'll ask it another way... Do you want your Donna to be happy with the surprise or do you want it to be a failure because of you?”

“Happy, happy,” Angie repeated effusively, jumping on the counter.

“Then shut up and keep translating,” you growled, continuing with the dough.

“Tesoro?” Donna asked, peeking through the door.

You jumped, running quickly to get her away from there.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, no, no, you can't come in,” you said amused, pushing her by her shoulders.

“Why? What are you doing?” she asked with a smile, trying to look over your shoulder.

“Cooking,” you said satisfied. Donna, as it could not be otherwise, frowned.

“You?” she asked suspiciously, with a mocking smile. You nodded triumphantly.

“Yes, me,” you said, pointing at yourself with the rolling pin. “So if you don't mind, let me work in peace.”

“But, but (Y/N)...,” Donna protested, as you pushed her down the hallway toward the doll workshop.

“Shh, silence, dolcezza just... dedicate yourself to your dolls, okay? I'll let you know when everything is ready,” you said, pushing her into the old workshop, leaving her completely confused.

“What are you up to?” she asked amused.

“Nothing...” you lied, looking up to show your lie. “Come on, come on, those dolls can’t be made themselves,” you said, kissing her quickly and forcefully sitting her on the work table, running away from the place.

Well, you weren't good with surprises, but Donna wasn't a fool.

“Higher, Angie” you ordered the doll, while you hung a flag on the wall.

“I can't get any higher, stupid,” the doll protested, jumping on a small ladder. “You are an idiot.”

“Yes, yes…” you sighed, tying that flag to a hole in the wall and climbing up to the other side. “Fine,” you said, clapping your hands, looking at how that green, white, and red flag adorned the room. “What do you think?”

“You're stupid,” Angie said, looking at the flag next to you, crossing her arms, comically imitating your posture.

“Shut up and light the candles, I'm going to get Donna,” you said, pointing to the table, which was set in a special, romantic way, with dinner steaming on it.

Before going down the elevator, you stopped for a moment, playing one of the Italian music vinyls you bought from the Duke and checking that the atmosphere was perfect.

“I can’t see anything, tesoro,” the lady protested, being guided by you, with her eye covered by your mischievous hands.

“Okay, we’re almost there,” you hummed, leaving the elevator and walking slowly next to her, with a nervous, expectant smile.

Doing a quick check that everything was perfect, you took a deep breath, releasing the brunette from your grip.

“Sorpresa,” you said with a soft voice.

Donna stood speechless, observing each and every one of the details that now adorned the living room, looking at the vinyl that was spinning tirelessly on the player, at the Italian flag you hung on the wall.

“(Y/N)... What?” she said with a broken voice, with a smile that told you had had the best idea in the world.

“I know that being in this village forever is... Well, it's horrible for you,” you explained, grabbing her waist, kissing her shoulder from behind. “But I suppose that, with a bit of imagination, we can bring the light of Italy to this place, don't you think?”

“It's... It's a wonderful gift, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, turning to kiss you quickly, gratefully, with a twinkle in her eye that you hadn't seen in a while. “Have you done this for me?”

“No, I was just bored,” you said ironically, causing a soft laugh to leave her lips. “Of course I have, Donna. Come, dinner is getting cold.”

A romantic silence invaded the old room. The sweet melody that played in the background only emphasized the happiness you could see on her face, the tender look that conquered you from the first day.

“Everything is delicious, (Y/N),” Donna commented, with that soft voice, as if she didn't want to interrupt that romantic silence with her voice. You blushed, sipping some wine.

“Don't tell Angie, but she has helped me a lot,” you whispered with amusement, giving your ears another of those tender, intoxicating laughs.

“You're such a sweetheart,” the lady whispered, holding your hand under the candle, looking at you with the love she felt, an unconditional love for the luckiest person in the entire world, for you.

“I'm just trying to make amends for my mistakes,” you commented, leaving the glass in its place and noticing the music had stopped playing. “Oh, but wait, this has only just begun…”

After that romantic dinner, the next part of your plan was carried out in the same way, in silence, a pleasant one.

You had asked the Duke for a few old movies, Italian movies to watch with Donna. As expected, emotion and tears of tenderness soon appeared on her pale face.

It was a perfect, unforgettable night.

“It was wonderful, tesoro,” she said, sobbing after entering the bedroom. “I don't know how to thank you.”

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand and smiled, hanging onto her neck.

“You can only do one thing... Make me enjoy your smile,” you whispered romantically, before capturing her lips on yours in a slow, tender kiss like no other.

“Only my smile?” the lady purred, slowly shifting towards the bed. You returned that mischievous smile, turning off the light. “Let's make this night perfect, (Y/N)”

“I agree…”

The next day, just as you had planned, everything returned to normal. The night had been the best of your life. Everything had turned out just as you had thought.

Your mind and your conscience were finally calm.

The smile returned to the lady in black, the kisses returned to your routine. It seemed like you had managed to calm that feeling, that darkness which Donna was struggling to combat with. Deep down you felt proud of being capable of such a feat, but you didn’t forget the regret in her heart was hopeless.

That same afternoon, you were reading quietly on a couch. With Donna working on her dolls and Angie having no intention of annoying you, you could finally breathe easy, congratulating yourself on your achievements with the brunette, letting love course through your body as you sighed, thinking about the night before, about everything.

Calmly, and with a smile, you hummed one of the songs that played during dinner, turning the pages of a book that only you thought you were reading.

The booming sound of the hall clock snapped you out of the bliss of your self-congratulations, forcing you to put a hand on your chest.

“Damn thing, what a scare,” you said with a smile, looking both ways to check that Angie wasn't laughing at your scary way of being, again.

But something caught your attention on the old clock hands, a slightly unusual time.

You quickly checked your wristwatch and frowned. Six o'clock in the afternoon.

Normally Donna would have been reading with you for a long time. She always dedicated a huge amount of hours to her work, but not so many anymore, not since she met you.

Strange and worried, you put the book aside and adjusted your dress, walking towards the elevator. You had a bad feeling.

As you walked through the hallways, a melody reached your ears. Music.

Ma tutti I sogni nell'alba svaniscon perché

Quando tramonta la luna li porta con sé…

“Donna?” you asked, peeking out of the doors of the workshop. There seemed to be no sign of the woman in black, at least not until you noticed a corner, where the woman was sitting with her knees on her chest, crying inconsolably. “Donna!”

You ran towards her, crouching on the floor, preventing her hands from pulling her hair while that song played impassively.

“Hey, hey, stop, don’t... Don't hurt yourself, my love,” you said, struggling with the lady, who was sobbing while she shook her head. Another crisis, one terrible crisis.

“(Y/N)...” she said with a completely broken voice, unable to stop crying.

“Yes, yes, I'm here, my beautiful Donna, come on, stop... Moving,” you said, managing to immobilize her for a moment, kneeling on the floor as well. “Hey, hey, please... Calm down...”

“Mi manca l' Italia,” the lady sighed, without stopping crying, without stopping destroying your spirit with her tears. “(Y/N)...”

A stab pierced your heart. Yes, you had made her spend a wonderful night, made her remember the origins of her family, made her feel for a moment she was not in that disgusting village.

Everything seemed perfect, it seemed that her smile had returned to her, but that was just a mirage. You had failed. you had made her remember those happy times even more, made her realize that they would never return. That song, her favorite song playing over and over again was just a reminder that you had made a big mistake.

“I... Shit,” you whispered, sitting next to her without letting her wrists go, which she moved suddenly, hitting the stone floor hard.

“Why?! Why does life have to be so cruel to me?!” she screamed uncontrollably, forcing you to use more strength, checking her hands in case she had managed to hurt herself.

“Hey, hey, come on... Please, honey, relax...” you sighed, confused and nervous because you didn't know how to act. How were you going to solve something that you had caused?

“Is this what awaits me for eternity?! To live locked in this horrible house for the rest of my life!? If, if that's the case, I... I don't want to continue...”

“No!” you screeched before she finished that sentence, before you could hear that horrible wish. “Enough, Donna! Stop saying that.”

She growled, looking away as you loosened your grip on her wrists.

“Fuck... it's, it's all my fault,” you lamented, letting tears come out of your eyes, sitting next to her and also burying your head between your legs. “I'm sorry, Donna.”

“No, I was the one who... The one who let Miranda take everything from me,” she murmured, blinking erratically, seemingly calmer.

“I've made it worse,” you sighed, leaning your head against the wall.

Donna looked at you slowly, approaching you, asking with her eye for one of your hugs.

You huffed, hugging the brunette with all your might, letting her tears soak your dress as your caresses ran through her hair, over her soft skin.

“You are the only thing that allows me to continue living,” she murmured among sobs, hanging on to your clothes, letting your caresses calm her demons.

“Don’t, don't say that... You are strong, Donna, I know you are. I, I can't make you happy, I can't make you come home... I wish I could, but I can't,” you whispered, calming your broken voice. You needed all your strength to deal with that kind of situation.

The music stopped playing, drawing your attention.

“I just wanted to... Make you feel better and... I'm a disaster, Angie's right,” you sighed, trying unsuccessfully to calm the brunette's crying.

“Don’t, don't leave,” Donna murmured, looking at you terrified. You widened your eyes at that strange request.

“What? I'm not going to leave,” you said, frowning, running a hand over her wet cheek.

“You are my home,” the lady whispered, settling into your embrace, relaxing her breathing little by little. “If you leave me, I…”

You interrupted those words with a salty kiss on her lips, with a sad smile, with a look that begged for forgiveness.

“I'm not going to blame you for missing something that made you happy,” you said softly, gaining some of your lost composure. “I guess we all feel that way at some point.”

“What do you miss?” she asked with an intense look.

“Well, many things... I miss my parents, I miss when I was just a little girl and only had to worry about playing...” you explained, hugging her tighter, intensifying the caresses in her soft, black hair.

Donna nodded, closing her eye with a sob. Calm, luckily, returned to your heart.

“You know what? I also get angry because I know that things will never come back,” you whispered with a tender, calm voice, sounding to the rhythm of your caresses.

“How…? How can you overcome it?” she asked, breathing hard again, sighing in a heartbreaking way.

“Trying not to forget my past, complementing it with my present, creating many more unforgettable moments,” you said, looking at the ceiling, also suffering the scourge of nostalgia.

“Unforgettable moments?” Donna asked, moving away a little, curious. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” you murmured thoughtfully, directing your gaze to the old record player and slowly getting up, pulling the brunette's hand so she could do the same. “Come, Donna.”

She nodded confused, wiping away her tears and following you with her gaze.

You sighed, placing the old record player needle into the beginning of the vinyl, spinning it again.

Penso che un sogno così non ritorni mai più

Mi dipingevo le mani e la faccia di blu…

The music filled the workshop and you, insecure but confident, pulled the hands of the brunette, who was looking at you confused.

“Mi concede questo ballo?” you asked with a whisper, bringing her body a little closer to yours, putting your hand on her shoulder, letting hers go down to your waist.

A sad smile appeared on her face, positioning herself as you wanted, starting to move slowly.

“Of course,” she sighed, closing her eye, letting herself be carried away by your clumsy movements, dancing slowly to the rhythm of the music.

Volare, oh, oh…

“Cantare...” you whispered in unison, letting the steps become more and more coordinated, letting the slowness of the music and that improvised dance be the only thing you could think about.

The dresses moved slowly with the turns, with the hugs, with the kisses stolen from that improvised dance session, a slow dance, one that seemed to ease the pains in Donna's heart, one that made her understand what it meant for you to mix the past with the present to overcome everything you couldn't take back.

“I love you, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, giving you a gentle spin, getting closer to your ear as you let yourself go, smiling tenderly.

“I love you, Donna,” you responded, with the same softness, melting into a kiss coordinated with the music.

“You are the memory I never want to lose...”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

61 notes · View notes

kasagia · 2 years ago

Note

Heyyy! So I was wondering if it was possible for you to write something where klaus forces the reader to marry him and they have a daughter hope(she can be a baby or a kid) and the reader can kind of tolerate klaus for the sake of her daughter but actually hates him and over time she falls in love with elijah's nobility and confesses to him at a party or something and klaus overhears ending is up to you<3

Loved by them two

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Elijah Mikaelson x reader, Summary: After your parents (pack leaders) arranged your marriage to Klaus (with whom you accidentally had a one-night stand earlier), you tied your fate irrevocably to the Mikaelsons. Problem? 1. You hate your husband for tricking you into this marriage. 2. His noble brother is too alluring. 3. You find out the hard way that hate, love, and lust are a very explosive mixture. Especially when you add the two Mikaelsons to it. Warning(s): argument, fight, blood, love triangle, smut, the first time I wrote something bordering on smut, angst, fluff, the reader kisses Elijah and then goes to bed with Klaus; generally, the reader doesn't know what to do; but she has two hot brothers on her call; three in total because Kol is her best friend; I really like this one after all Nonsense from me: I combined these two requests because they seem to go together. Also sorry if I didn't include enough Elijah x reader (despite my huge crush for all the Mikaelsons, Klaus will always get somehow a girl 😅). I also took a gif from here, because... well it's good. Word count: 8,3k (it's pretty long, I admit, but I don't regret any minute of writing it.)

You hated Klaus Mikaelson with all your heart. Your abhorrent, psychotic husband. A man who somehow was the father (even though you've tried to disprove it many times) of your precious, sweet little daughter Hope.

If the devil could take human form, no doubt it would be your husband.

You met him by accident. You and your friends went out into the city to have fun. You met a hot, handsome blond guy in a bar, went to bed with him, and left his house the next day without a word, expecting never to see him again. You wouldn't think that when you get back to your pack of wolves, your parents - the alphas of the pack - will tell you that you're getting married in a month. And not just anyone. Klaus Mikaelson was going to be your husband. A 1,000-year-old werewolf and vampire hybrid.

You will remember for the rest of your life what they told you when they were destroying your chance for happiness.

"The pack must be strong. This marriage and your assumption of power will guarantee us a secure position in New Orleans. No witches, vampires, or other werewolves will stand in our way. This alliance with the originals will guarantee us power beyond our ancestors' imagination. The crescent wolf and other packs will succumb to our strength. It is your duty to do this for your people."

Of course, you objected to the idea as soon as they told you. But you weren't a leader yet, so your opinion didn't matter much. Especially when your first meeting with your fiancé was only a few minutes away. At least the first official meeting.

You thought the guy must look like a walking fossil. You were surprised when you met that hottie from last night.

And from then on, your whole life became hell.

You tried everything to back out of that engagement. Really everything. Even a fake pregnancy with another, which turned out not to be so fake after all. And unfortunately for you, the father of your child was HE. The curse of your existence.

So he sped up the wedding, and you became the wife of the most dangerous vampire in the world. Cool! At least you got lots of presents and access to his bank accounts all over the world. The pros of being an incubator for a miracle baby.

Then you met your guardian angel. Elijah Mikaelson - the older brother of your awful husband. Your only consolation (other than Hope) in this terrible situation. Your friend, soul mate, and the man of your dreams.

Fate liked to make fun of you, it forced you to marry the wrong brother.

Elijah was everything any woman could ask for. A tactful gentleman, respecting and supporting female feminism, always keeping his word, a walking ideal. The complete opposite of your cruel husband.

You were completely in love with him. So much so that when he held your beautiful one-year-old daughter in his arms, you imagined that he was her father. Your fantasy was almost always spoiled by your husband stepping on the three of you and taking the baby out of his hands.

You had no idea why Klaus had even chosen to make your life a nightmare. There were other ways he could have taken control of the city; he didn't have to become the leader of your pack and marry you.

But he always did and took what he wanted. You found out after being stuck in this happy swamp of being married to Klaus for a year. So you took great satisfaction in denying him the one thing he could never have and so desired - your love and affection.

It was another big mystery for you when it came to Klaus and his complicated personality. Yes, you had a child together, and you were stuck with him, but before that, you didn't know each other. So why did the mighty hybrid decide to find a mate and lead his own pack with them? And why was he strangely obsessed with creating a happy, loving family with you and Hope?

Worse, he turned out to be a good alpha to your pack and an even better father. You couldn't say a bad thing. You two ruled the werewolves, enhanced by your fusion, as equals. And Hope loved it when he sang her lullabies and tucked her in to sleep. Ironically, she calmed down better in the murderous original's arms than in yours.

Even your own child was against you.

Fortunately, in this cold, dark Mikaelson mansion, there was one soul who stood by your side no matter what. The only one you could trust implicitly without fear of ending up with a stake in your back.

Elijah was a gift from heaven to you.

During your pregnancy with Hope, he helped you in every possible way. He was always there for you, whether it was holding your hair as you returned all the breakfast he had prepared for you earlier or reading aloud to you as he massaged your aching ankles.

And when did you become a hybrid? He was the one who taught you self-control for the most part (while Klaus was busy doing something else and couldn't see the two of you, of course).

There was only one problem. Your terribly possessive husband.

As soon as Klaus came into your sight, Elijah had to move two meters away from you, or all hell would break loose.

And you're not exaggerating at all.

One day, when you were watching a movie and lying on the couch, leaning against each other and covered with one blanket, you didn't notice the hybrid enter the living room. You didn't even blink when your companion was dragged from his place and thrown to the other end of the house. A second later, a very angry and jealous vampire took his place, hugging you much closer than his brother and placing his hands on your growing belly.

You didn't react to his show of strength then.

Elijah and Rebekah taught you long ago to choose your battles with Niklaus. It wasn't worth arguing with him about everything he'd done. Especially since you were pregnant at that time - you didn't always have the strength to get into fights with him.

But now as a hybrid, queen of your pack and whole New Orleans? Oh no, you wouldn't let that man fucking rule you.

You tried to make his life hell. You defied him every step of the way, overthrowing his dark plans and bringing your own to life. Of course, you did it all with a sweet, stupid smile, occasionally showing him small acts of tenderness, such as hugging or kissing on the cheek or forehead (on exceptional, life-threatening occasions, you even sacrificed and kissed him), to lull his vigilance.

But Klaus wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what you were doing and was happy to let you change a couple of his plans if it meant a kiss from you.

And you thought it was what made him fall for you.

You were stubborn, always getting your way, going over the dead to achieve your goal if it was to protect your loved ones.

And Klaus loved it. You don't know if it was his weird fetish - the guy always got what he wanted and no one dared stand up to him, so he felt for the girl who didn't want to succumb to him. You were probably one of the few survivors of the rebellion against him. And the one who could do literally anything without any fear of the hybrid hurting you.

You get used to this life. Secret meetings with Elijah in the library, discussions in the living room while Hope played with her toys on the carpet and watched cartoons on TV, occasional shopping and girls' nights with Bekah and Freya, and even to Kol's pranks and tricks.

Even your relationship with Klaus has been better lately. You tried so openly not to show your hostility towards the hybrid. After all, he was your daughter's father and Hope deserved at least a semblance of normalcy - parents who don't want to kill each other every 5 minutes.

But tonight, everything was about to change.

~•♤♤♤•~

"So you want me to go with you to some weird party organized by your current archenemy Tristan, and Klaus gave you his permission to take me out of the house?" you asked the original who made the pancakes for you as you discussed another plan to outsmart the de Martel siblings while cradling Hope in your arms.

"I wouldn't call him an archenemy... just a minor inconvenience."

"Is that why you and Klaus tremble with anger every time I say his name?"

"No, it's because a beautiful lips as yours shouldn't be tainted by such a terrible name."

"So whose name should I keep saying, Elijah?" you asked with a teasing smirk, licking your lips.

The original leaned slightly towards you. The tension in the room was palpable between the two of you. You looked down from his captivating, mesmerizing eyes to those alluring lips you've dreamed of kissing ever since he turned out to be more than your asshole husband's brother to you. You were only a few centimeters apart... so little...

Hope's squirming in your arms reminded you of the baby's presence. And that you were standing so close to your husband's brother in broad daylight and in a place where anyone could easily walk in and see you two. Against your darkest, most hidden desire, you have moved away from the noble original. Elijah cleared his throat, going back to continuing your breakfast.

"I'll be ready at 8 p.m."

"The party starts at 7."

"So? Don't you think being fashionably late will be the perfect combination for the act of surprise when they see me hanging on your arm? We'll get their attention, so Klaus and Kol will do what they do the best."

"You know ladies don't usually talk about such… bloody things while holding babies in their arms?"

"Ladies, Elijah, but my wife is everything but that." the hybrid came out of nowhere with that arrogant smirk on his lips. "Hello, my queen. My little princess." Klaus smiled fondly and took Hope from you, making funny faces at the baby. The traitor started to giggle. You rolled your eyes but also smiled slightly upon hearing your daughter's cute laugh.

"Dada!" she screamed, grabbing his nose with her hands.

Yeah, this little traitor could already talk. No, the first word she said wasn't dad; it was mom. The problem is that her happy "dada" came out of her mouth too often compared to mama. Klaus was too pleased with this fact than you would have liked.

"Well, maybe if my loving husband was an exemplary gentleman, I could act like a lady."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"How is Aurora? Did she let you out of her arms so quickly?" you asked sarcastically, trying to throw him off balance. You weren't in the mood to put up with that annoying asshole today.

"Did I just hear jealousy in your voice, love?"

"Haha, you wish. You have my full blessing to spend time with whoever wants you."

"Niklaus. I believe we were supposed to have a meeting before we put this grand plan into action. Will you forgive us, Y/N?" Elijah interrupted you before you two broke the incredible peace between you that had lasted for 4 months and started to jump at each other's throats.

"Just take him wherever you want."

"Brother, shall we?"

Klaus muttered something under his breath. He handed our daughter over to me and planted a quick, wet kiss on my neck before stepping out of my personal space. I growled at him, showing my golden eyes. The man merely laughed, waving to the little one before leaving the kitchen.

"Enjoy your meal, Y/N."

"You can try to lose him on the way back!" you screamed after the retreating man in the suit.

"WON'T HAPPEN, LOVE!" your husband shouted back, ruining (as usual) all your dreams.

"It's always worth giving a shot." you murmured, knowing full well that he would be able to hear you. You smiled victoriously, hearing his irritable, grumpy voice as he snapped back at one of his vampire errands.

~•♤♤♤•~

"You look amazing, Y/N." Elijah greeted you with a delighted smile as he watched you descend the stairs in a long, tight black dress with gold embellishments at the waist and the ends of the sleeves.

With your little tiara in your hair and a gold snake necklace entwined around your neck, you felt like a fucking queen.

You're not going to lie—you went all out with your preparations, and Rebekah made sure she did your makeup for your first big, official outing since Hope was born.

It wasn't until you came downstairs that you noticed that Elijah wasn't the only person sitting in the candlelit room. Klaus was sitting right next to him, looking at you with the same fascination and admiration as his brother. You felt a little uncomfortable being watched by two originals with heart-shaped eyes.

"Maybe I should choose a dress with a higher neckline after all?" you wondered as you watched them almost drool over your looks. They were both 1,000 years old but acted like horny teenagers.

"So I guess I'm dressed well enough to be a distraction for tonight?" you asked, bringing their attention back to your face. They both decided to act nonchalant, as if they hadn't been staring at your ass a few seconds ago.

"Maybe even to well, love." Klaus' heavy, watchful gaze didn't let you down an inch. You felt an involuntary shiver run through you with each step you took closer to the originals.

"My brother may be right. No one will be able to take their eyes off you."

"Thank you, Elijah."

Klaus cleared his throat as he got up from his chair and faced you. He took your hand gently, and after softly caressing the wedding band and engagement ring from him, he shifted his attention to your wrist, suddenly stopping his movements.

You looked up at his eyes, catching his gaze. You felt enchanted by these calm, blue eyes, their beauty mostly made you went to bed with him a year ago. You felt like any little move could break that strange spell between you two.

At one point, you felt cold metal settling on your wrist. You turned your gaze to the charming bracelet that, surprisingly, matched your outfit.

"It's for protection. In case you need help and no one can find you."

"So you've always known where I am? What is this, some kind of dog collar with a tracker?"

"No. Freya enchanted it for me. It's supposed to sense when you're in danger and let me know." he rolled up his sleeve, showing you a new bracelet on his wrist. "I have a similar one."

"Oh." you groaned in shock, completely not expecting something like this from him.

"Exactly. Oh. I guess I'm not the bad guy all the time."

"I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't. Have fun with my brother, love."

For the first time since you've known Klaus, you felt sorry for him. Due to the growing guilt you were feeling, you kept an eye on his receding shape until he passed through the door. You sighed, turning to face Elijah, who had already approached you from behind in a moment of your inattention.

"Don't worry. He'll get over it. Niklaus can't blame you for being careful with him." he tried to comfort you, but deep down you knew it was your fault this time.

And you weren't going to act like your husband, so you decided to apologize to him at the next opportunity. Unlike some, you were able to admit when you were wrong. However, Elijah didn't need to know about your plan.

"Maybe you are right. Let's go to this party."

~•♤♤♤•~

You were talking to Elijah at the bar while sipping your drink. You entered as planned—late, attracting the attention of most people. Rumors quickly spread throughout the supernatural community. Your favorite was that during that year of your "absence," you divorced Klaus and married his brother, now parading proudly with him around the salons. Elijah seemed to like it too.

You were enjoying the party until one of the de Martel siblings showed up. Tristan.

"Famous Y/N Y/L/N Mikaelson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you sir are…?"

"Tristan de Martel. You must have heard about me from dear Elijah."

"To be honest, not so much. I only know that you're the one who invited us, for which I want to thank you." you played a stupid, naive girl with joy while watching the frown on his forehead. To remember: He does not like to be diminished or underestimated in any way. Mr. big ego.

"So perhaps you would do me the honor and dance with me? We could get to know each other better."

"Actually, this lady promised me her first dance. If you'll excuse us, Tristan."

"Of course. Enjoy yourselves."

Elijah grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. He pulled you closer to him, rocking you to the beat of the song. The original wanted to cause even more rumors... you wonder if Klaus agreed to his actions.

"He's a slippery guy. Now I know why you wanted me to stay away from him and his sister."

"You just spoke to him, how do you know..."

"Well, starting with the extravagant look of the room, the fact that his suit and watch literally scream I'm rich, and ending with the fact that he carries himself as if he were the master of this world, I've noticed other manic behaviors as well. Besides, it's obvious at first glance that he's desperately trying to imitate you. I don't like him."

"Should I assume that you don't like me as well?"

"No! No. I like you. More than you know. I don't know how I would have dealt with vampirism and all of this without you. Thank you for being there for me. Always." you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

"And forever." he said, placing a tender kiss on top of your head. "You're more to me than I could ever admit."

"Do we have to? Pretend and hide the truth?" during your conversation, you didn't even notice when he led you to a more desolate place. Nobody was looking at you. There was only him and you.

"Niklaus..."

"Have you ever, in your entire, very long life, done something just for yourself, without thinking about your brother or sibling? Have you ever acted selfishly?"

"I can't be selfish with you." he said, resting his forehead against yours. You were so close to each other, so close to getting what you both wanted.

"Why?"

"It will destroy us all."

"Then let the world burn... just for a moment."

Elijah, after a moment's hesitation, leaned closer to you, embracing your slightly trembling figure with anticipation even tighter. He cupped your right cheek with his hand and finally brought your lips together in the long-awaited kiss.

Your first kiss with the original was… completely different from what you imagined. His soft lips didn't match up with yours as well as they did with…

You froze in complete shock as you realized your subconscious was comparing Elijah to Klaus. And surprisingly, it was more sympathetic to your hated husband, from whom you wanted so much to be free. In spite of this strange feeling of guilt that you somehow betrayed Klaus, you returned the kiss with more passion than before, trying to feel that wonderful tingling and buzzing in your head.

But it never came.

Something was missing in this perfect, fabulous setting for the first kiss with the love of your life. And you had no idea what was wrong.

Maybe first kisses with someone new were so… awkward?

Your treacherous mind reminded you that there was NEVER such an awkwardness between you and Klaus. Only pure passion and desire.

What the fuck happened to you? Why didn't you feel anything special when all your wet dreams were coming true?

You moved away first under the pretense of taking a breath. Staring into Elijah's eyes, you could feel the same attraction that accompanied you every time you stole those furtive glances from each other.

"I love you, Y/N. I've loved you since the first day you gave me a lecture on how Pride and Prejudice is Jane Austen's best book; how cliché it wasn't." you hit him on the shoulder, making him giggle. "And if the circumstances were completely different, if it were someone completely different, I wouldn't hesitate to be selfish just this once and take something from my brother. But I will not allow any harm to come to you or Hope through my actions."

Before you could say anything, you two heard a howl.

Klaus and Kol.

Elijah nodded at you. You disentangled yourself from his arms and ran upstairs to fulfill your role in the Mikaelsons' plan. You just hoped the guys would distract them long enough for you to find what you were looking for.

You searched their house, wondering how Elijah's confession would affect your relationship now.

But little do you know that you weren't the only one who heard it.

~•♤♤♤•~

It was a really fucked up night.

The peaceful surveillance of the de Martel house turned into a bloody battle between the originals and the first vampires they turned. Klaus' therapist, Cami, barely escaped a jealous attack by Klaus' ex-Aurora. You wonder how Klaus managed to reach Cami in time and why the red-haired psycho didn't target you and your child. Klaus must have put on quite a show for her.

In all the chaos, you didn't get a second chance for a moment alone with Elijah. The subject of your feelings still remained the elephant in the room. And frankly, you've had enough of it all. All you wanted now was a warm bath and playing with Hope. No more family drama.

Without Klaus, everything would have gone to hell. And as much as you hated that he forgot to include you in his plans for today, you couldn't help but be grateful to him for helping you protect your pack from vampires today. He didn't have to. He could watch the de Martel vampires kill your people and attack them when they get tired of fighting werewolves. Another demonstration of him being more than a villain to you.

It amazed you how one minute he was an irritating, ignorant, disrespectful asshole and the next your savior, protector, and equal partner in crime you could rely on.

You guess that's what your husband was like. Full of contradictions and surprises. Your private pet of nature.

You sighed in relief as you finally walked to your home. You took another step towards the mansion when you saw Klaus and Elijah getting out of the car and heading for the entrance.

You were about to join the originals, but you stopped dead at the sound of Klaus' pretentious voice.

"So we're just going to pretend you didn't kiss my wife and confess your feelings to her, or maybe you have an explanation?" you hid, eavesdropping on their conversation. "Don't think that after all that's happened, I've forgotten that you went a little too far in distracting the de Martels. You may get Aurora away from her that way, but it was superfluous, and I know you enjoyed every bloody second too much for me to just walk away from this."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. If she wants me, it's none of your business, Niklaus. You only married her because you made up a plan - Y/N has never wanted to be your wife and you have never cared about her." Klaus stopped, watching his brother blankly. He looked like something had broken inside him.

The hybrid suddenly lunged at the other man with his fists.

They started punching each other and throwing things at each other within reach. At one point, they both pushed off each other, landing on opposite walls. (Creating another dent to patch.)

"SHE IS MY WIFE! My mate! My queen! MOTHER OF MY CHILD! You have no right to her, brother! So I'm warning you… If I ever hear the littlest rumours about her having the smallest crush on you, I'll put you back in that bloody coffin, and I will release you after our eighth child comes into this world. She will be so madly in love with me that she won't even spare you a second glance when you meet again."

"I didn't know you loved plans that take over a thousand years to complete, brother. I never thought you could be so patient."

Klaus growled, throwing himself at his brother with a scream. From your hiding place, you could hear the sounds of a fight and shattered furniture.

You decided to wait a little longer before stepping in and heroically separating the two combatants. You didn't want it to seem like you overheard their argument.

Only when there was a sudden outburst followed by a suspicious silence did you decide to run into the house. You wouldn't expect them to demolish the entire living room in minutes, and Klaus would be bleeding out dangerously while trying to patch up the wound and drive the dagger into his brother's heart.

The men didn't notice you as they tried to disable each other. You weren't going to come between them or stand on either side until Elijah, out of nowhere, pulled out Pappa Tunde's blade.

Your body reacted faster than your brain. You instinctively threw yourself between them, shielding Klaus from the blade.

They both froze when they saw you.

Time seemed to stop as both shocked and incredulous looks from the originals fell on you. To be honest, even you were surprised which side you were on. You blamed your stupid tendency to act instead of think in difficult situations. But you weren't going to show them that you were insecure about your actions. Not when they were both holding weapons harmful to the other one.

"Put it down." you said, looking straight at Elijah. "You too." you added, glancing over your shoulder at your husband, who was staring at you with a strange, unidentifiable look. Amazingly, he dropped the dagger to the ground first. Soon after, Elijah did the same. You quickly bent down to grab both weapons, putting them in your pockets. "Good. Are you calm now?" they nodded silently, waiting for your next move. "Great. So, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL YOU TWO WERE DOING?!"

Elijah took a breath, probably intending to give you some clever answer, but stopped as soon as you felt an unexpected weight fall down your back. You caught Klaus just in time before he slid to the floor. Holding him up, you noticed a wound on his right side. You reached out to touch his wound, but the hybrid's strong grip on your wrist stopped your hand.

"Don't. You'll get burned. Verbena and the wolfbane. Grenade."

"What the hell?! Elijah how could you throw a grenade at him?! Do you throw one back?!" you asked the man in your arms.

"I wanted. You stopped me."

"God, from now on, you're both grounded from being with Hope. Hell knows if that rage won't attack you in front of her! Come Klaus. I'll help you clean it up. Elijah, you can clean up here before Rebekah or Freya come." you said, casting a disappointed look at Elijah's outfit before helping the hybrid up the stairs.

"I would never..." Klaus tried to explain himself as you dragged him to his bedroom.

"Just shut up and sit down." you growled at him, pushing him onto the bed. You took the first aid kit from the bathroom and went back to him to disinfect his wound. "It'll hurt."

"Will you kiss it later? To ease the pain and speed up the healing process, of course."

"Don't try your luck any more today." you warned, rolling your eyes at his mischievous smirk.

He snorted, offended. He looked like a child who had been grounded for snacking on sweets. You sighed, trying not to laugh at his scowl. Unwittingly, you began to wonder what Hope would look like when she went through her rebellious period. Probably like her father when he did something wrong and got caught doing it. Well, at least you'll have some practice before she grows up.

"Do you love my brother?" he burst out suddenly while you were cleaning his wound made by verbena and wolfsbane. Why they had pomegranates from these plants shouldn't shock you as much as it did.

"What?" you asked, shoving a water-soaked cotton ball into his wound, which made him groan in pain. You gave him an apologetic look as you continued working on his side.

"Don't act stupid, it's not like you at all. Do you love my brother?"

"Of course I do, he's my friend and Hope's uncle." you replied unfazed, continuing your work.

"Let me rephrase that. Are you IN LOVE with my nobel brother?"

You tried to pretend that his question had no effect on you. You put down the cotton balls and tried to avoid his gaze to give some answer, but Klaus grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Fuck. You couldn't lie now. He always knew when you were lying, and now that you were exposed to his watchful gaze, you only knew one way out of this fucked-up situation.

So you pulled him closer to you, kissing him passionately.

He moaned, surprised by the feeling of your soft, enticing lips on his own. He wasted no more time. He put you on his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible.

The feeling of his warm skin against your clothed body reluctantly brought back memories of the night it all began.

Intoxicated by the feeling of his captivating lips on yours again (after so long), you didn't even notice when he threw you onto the bed, only momentarily breaking your kiss to let your hair down. He melted back into your mouth, hovering over you. The hybrid tangled his hand in your hair, tilting your head so he had better access to your equally eager mouth and tongue.

He moved to your neck, leaving wet kisses and gentle bites and rubbing every inch of your skin, effectively ruining any thought process in your head.

It was just you and him.

And after a very long time, you felt extraordinary pleasure and much-needed relief from the tension that your body had gone through today.

"Nik!" you moaned when he started sucking on the most sensitive spot on your neck, which he knew damn well existed and used every time to tease you.

But this time you moaned for him like a whore, too overwhelmed by the sensations his skilled hands and lips were giving you.

And this time, Klaus didn't hold back. His amber irises and possessive growl were the only warnings he gave you before he ripped your dress in half, revealing your dressed-in-lace-underwear body to him.

His wolf howled inside him.

He pressed his lips to yours greedily, caressing every inch of your newly exposed skin. You growled into his mouth as he bit your lip harder and dug your nails into his back. He reciprocated by squeezing your thigh tightly as he wrapped your leg around his waist, rubbing your most sensitive parts against each other. You both moaned in unison, pulling your lips apart for a moment. You decided to repay him and slid your fangs out to dig into his neck, drinking his sweet blood greedily. You've been dreaming about it since you became a hybrid. Only in your darkest, wildest dreams, after which you were ashamed to look into the eyes of the hated hybrid who probably drove you to Stockholm syndrome because you wanted him more every day—the man who was the cause of your misery.

It was impossible for you to love him. To love the man who tricked you into this marriage; who lied and killed and tortured so many people; who made you fall head over heels for him. Maybe that's why you fell in love with Elijah? He was his complete opposite. He was self-possessed, calm, reasonable, and kept his word.

But there you were, rubbing against him and moaning as his blood ran down your throat. Wanting him more than his brother—the man of every woman's dreams.

Maybe you were as fucked up as your husband.

Moments later, he copied your idea and dug himself into your neck. The moan coming from him sent shivers through your body all the way THERE. How could a man make you so desperate for him with just some kisses and the slightest touch?

You'd probably go all out and lose yourselves in each other's touch for the rest of the night (and possibly part of the morning) if Hope's cries hadn't come from the baby monitor on his nightstand. You broke apart, breathing heavily. Klaus licked off the rest of the blood dripping from your wound until it closed. He rested his head against your chest, inhaling your scent.

You unknowingly ran your hand through his curly hair, also closing your eyes and getting lost in this special, unique moment of tenderness between you two.

"I love you, Y/N." his soft whisper, combined with the gentle movement of his lips against the skin of your breasts, sent shivers down your spine. The realization of his confession left you completely still, holding his arms in a gentle embrace. "I know you don't feel the same way about me, but I promise you that one day you will. I will be worthy of your affection, my brave, wise, beautiful, merciful queen." he said, placing one last longing kiss on your lips before climbing off of you. He got dressed and left the room to soothe the crying Hope.

You closed your eyes, taking shaky breaths. You covered your mouth with your hand to drown out your silent sobs as you heard the familiar lullaby that Nik usually sings to Hope.

Klaus has really changed for the better since the first time you two met. And any other woman in your situation would surely fall in love with him in a heartbeat. But you've already given your heart to someone you'll never have. Or so you thought.

You felt an inexplicable attraction to Elijah, but with Klaus... everything just felt right - even though the hybrid drove you crazy and was the complete opposite of your dream prince on a white horse, in which Elijah fit perfectly. So maybe your Mr. Right wasn't someone you'd imagined in your head a long time ago…

And now, crying silently on your husband's bed, you realize what you should have done ages ago. But before you did the right thing, you could afford to pay a little attention to your troubled, lost heart.

So you cried until you got tired enough that all you did before falling asleep in Klaus' bedroom was to cover up any traces of your tears. You promised yourself a long time ago that no matter what, you would be the only witness to your tragedies. You'd rather be seen as a cold bitch than a weak, lost girl thrown into the fights the originals always fought.

Because in the end, it was only you (and Hope) against the whole world. Just like always.

~•♤♤♤•~

"I need you to do me a favor, Kol." you said as you walked into his room without knocking. The original was on the bed, flipping through something on his phone. He lazily shifted his gaze to you. You groaned internally. Bored Kol is a Kol who is very hard to work with. But—shame to admit it—he was your last and only resort.

"Hello to you too, Y/N. Thank you for knocking before storming into someone's room. How am I? I'm very glad you're asking; I'm fine. That's a very beautiful day, don't you think? Yes, indeed. Did marriage with my brother completely make you lose any manners and tact?" he teased as he drank the blood from the bag.

"I want you to compel me." he spat out his drink, choking and staining another carpet. "Rebekah will be mad at him." you thought as you watched how the original was coughing.

"What?!" he shouted, finally coming to himself. "Why?!" he asked, reaching for his half-full bag again.

"I want you to compel me to love Klaus." he spat out his drunken blood again, suffocating. He tossed the bag on the nightstand, deciding not to reach for it again in the face of new revelations. He probably thought you were completely out of your mind.

"What the bloody hell?! But I thought you and Lijah…" he began, confused, jumping out of bed to face you.

"We never gonna happen, Kol. I realized it very clearly yesterday. And I don't want to feel these stupid things around Elijah any more. He will never be mine, and I will never be his. I have Hope. I had to think about her future and happiness. And she deserves… everything. So if I can give her a happy, normal, loving family, I will do it. Even if it means falling for Klaus by your compel."

"Are you sure, darling? Do you even know what you're asking me for? Do you really want me to erase your memories of you and Elijah?"

"No. I don't want to forget. I want to remember all those stupid moments that led me to this fucking rollercoaster of emotions. I need you to convince me that... it was always meant to be Klaus. That my love for Elijah is just a fleeting fascination, and that Klaus is my fucking soulmate and partner, someone who will treat me as an equal and put me and our daughter above everything else. And that seeing him so close with Aurora and Camille made me realize that I only want to be with him."

"You know that these things aren't far from the truth, do you? My brothers love you. Both equally strong. Are you sure that…"

"Yes. I made my decision. I'm just asking you to help me sort out my emotions properly. I can't be the girl who sails between two brothers. I will not let Hope grow up in this mess my feelings have caused. My fate was sealed the day I met Klaus. Now it's time for me to finally accept it."

"I'll help you, darling. On one condition. I'm not going to keep you under my compel forever. I'll take it off someday. Are you then ready to face the consequences of your actions? Organize your feelings on your own? What if you really fall in love with Nik? What if you somehow fall in love with both of them? If Elijah finds someone else? Do you even think about what it will mean to you? You'll be living a lie, Y/N. Are you ready for it?"

"I'll do everything to give Hope the family she deserves. Besides, I'm Y/N Y/L/N-Mikaelson. I always know what to do. And for now, this is the perfect solution. I think I could be happy with Klaus after all. And after everything that happened recently... I just want to finally be happy, Kol. Without all the extra problems that being a Mikalson brings anyway."

"I only hope you're not going to regret this... Look at me, darling. Today you will feel something more than hostility or a little friendliness toward my brother Klaus. After seeing him, being a hero for your pack, and rescuing that human Camille from getting killed, you realized that you'd always had some feelings for him, but before today they were weaker than what you feel for Elijah. You realized that Klaus could be the man of your dreams, someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You will never forget what you experienced with Elijah, but now you see him more like a brother and an uncle to your child than a life partner. You like Klaus; he's the only man you could be romantically interested in until Hope comes of age. After this time, my compulsion will cease to work. You will forget that I compel you. I told you to get that stupid idea out of your head and told you not to ask anyone else for such a favor. You will follow my command." you snapped out of your stupor, blinking as you tried to remember what the hell had just happened.

"Well, at least promise me you won't tell Klaus, Elijah, or anyone else."

"I hate to say it, but you have my word. Everything will stay between us."

"Good." you nodded your head and left his room. Kol's concerned gaze led you all the way to the door.

At least he circumvented your request and didn't force you to love Klaus directly, he just dulled your infatuation with Elijah. If you started to feel anything for his hybrid brother, it would be real. He only hoped that when Davina, Rebekah, or Nik found out, they wouldn't castrate him for it.

~•♤♤♤•~

You were pissed off. Incredible furious with your stupid husband and his older brother.

These two morons went with Kol on a solo quest against Lucien and Tristan, locking you (Freya, Davina, Rebekah and you) in the house.

You don't need to tell anyone that they came back with nothing and narrowly escaped death. As soon as the boundary spell was lifted by your witches, you ran out of the house with Hope and went straight to your pack. You left your daughter with your cousin Lily and her witch girlfriend while you went to get wood. You must have landed your rage on something. Trees were better than innocent people or your very guilty and stupid husband, whose face you didn't want to see right now because you knew you'd use it as a dartboard.

However, you forgot that your husband had no self-preservation instinct.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you growled as you sensed his presence, continuing to chop wood. He really was asking to die today.

"You took our daughter and left the house, you think I won't follow you? Besides, we need to talk, love."

"Well, it's too fucking late now. Fuck off before I shove a branch up your ass."

"Where does such an aggression of yours come from, love?"

"You dare to fucking ask me?! After what you did?! You could all die or get caught! I know you don't care what happens to me, but have you thought about Hope? Your fucking daughter! What would happen if they came for us, for her, when we were closed in the cage, you made?! Tell me, honey, was it your brilliant idea? Or maybe Kol's?"

"It's fascinating that you have such faith in my noble elder brother that you don't even entertain the slightest possibility that it was his plan."

"Elijah wouldn't do something so stupid. He's better than you. Do you even know how it could..."

"Of course our dear Elijah would be a better husband for you!" his brain apparently focused only on that damn part, not the one where you scolded him for being so careless because you were worried about him.

"Don't you dare fucking bring him into this! He was the only goddamn person who cared about my fate after my transformation! He cares enough about me to let me know about his plans, Klaus!"

"I saw perfectly well how he cares for you - by shoving his tongue down your throat!"

"Maybe if you weren't acting like a fucking, arrogant, condescending dick who knows everything best, you'd be in his place!"

"Well, I went further with you than he did last night. You didn't even moan against his mouth as you did against mine. I guess being a dick pays off after all." he replied with a feisty, smug smile.

"You! Fucking! Disgusting! Pervent!" you growled, punching him in the chest each time, causing him to back away from you until you pinned him to a tree. "I fucking hate you. Every time I see the shadow of a man worth loving in you, you always screw it up! I hate you and despise both you and myself that despite all the damn things you've done against me, somehow I still fucking want to see in you someone worth my love!" you screamed, taking out your anger on him with every blow you landed on him.

It shocked you that he didn't do anything to stop you. He just took your punches, standing still in complete silence, until you got tired.

"Better?" he whispered, staring at your panting, disheveled figure as you both tried to calm down.

"A little."

"You tremble." he noticed, carefully touching your cold shoulder. "Let's go back to the camp. We need to warm you up." he said as he took off his leather jacket and tossed it over your shoulders. He grabbed your hand and started leading you through the dark forest.

You don't even remember when you got this far in your anger. It took you a good half silient hour of walking to get back to the sleeping pack.

You sat by the still-burning fire. Klaus added a few logs of wood to make sure it wouldn't go out. He then sat next to you and unrolled the blanket, draping it over your back, creating a warm cocoon around the two of you.

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder and staring into the fire. You blissfully absorbed the silence between the two of you, losing yourself in Klaus' warmth and scent.

"I'm sorry." he broke the long silence between you. "I should have let you know about my plans or not locked you in the house. You're right. You deserve someone better, love." he said, his voice slightly trembling as he spoke the last words.

"I could love you, you know?" you felt his piercing, surprised look as you played with one of the sticks, staring stubbornly at the fire to avoid his gaze. "A long time ago. If you hadn't acted like a condescending asshole and tried your best to lock me up in that damn house with Hope. If you'd let me in, help me get past that evil, cruel hybrid facade and see the real you, you would have what you so secretly desire."

"And what is that?"

"Unconditional love from someone who isn't forced to give it to you. Unlimited trust and devotion-something you have not experienced in your very long life. You know one day you'll get it from our daughter, but it won't be the same. She will love you because you are her father, her love is conditioned by the bond you have shared since she was born. That's why you want me to love you so much. You want someone who cares about you for no reason."

"And could you? Love me just because you want to? After everything I have done?" he asked, pulling you away from him, not too far away, just enough to look you in the eye.

"You were never quite the villain in my story. I have to admit, I've hated you since I met you... but over time, I've seen that you've made me more than I could have imagined, someone much more powerful, someone whose opinion really matters. You always helped me, even when I thought it was some kind of sabotage against me and when I disagreed with your plan, like when you decided to stop Dalhia alone or play partners in crime with your bloodthirsty father. You take care of my pack like it's your own, and you're such a good father to Hope that sometimes I envy her. Maybe our beginnings weren't the best, and maybe along the way we'll start arguing and fighting like bitter enemies again, but I couldn't imagine anyone else to do it with."

"Even after I forced you into this marriage?"

"Well, if it weren't for you, my parents would've arranged one with a possibly stupid, self-centered werewolf anyway, so I didn't get the worst of it."

"Good to know I'm not the worst option."

"At least you're hot and handsome." you replied, nudging him with your arm. He did the same, making you both laugh.

You stared into his eyes as the firelight reflected in his beautiful irises, emphasizing sparks of amusement and... tenderness.

"I want to be the man who deserves your love."

"Can you let me in then?"

He did not answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to yours. If it had been any other man, you would have insisted on answering this important question. But you knew Klaus too well to know that this passionate, sultry, tender kiss is a silent promise he makes to you. A promise he intends to keep.

Klaus wasn't the perfect man of your dreams, and he often made hasty, sudden decisions without considering the opinions of others. But deep down, you knew there was no other man in the world who made you feel the way you did with Nik. Even Elijah couldn't make you feel half the way you did with his brother. His kiss, his touch, his smile, and his scent made you feel insane. And that (desire, passion, tenderness, warmth, and thristing for his little affection) was the type of love you want to lose yourself in.

Maybe it was Klaus who was supposed to be your Mr. Right after all.

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inevitable-pretty-words · 9 months ago

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Content – intimate whumper, hero x villain, villain with magical powers, fantasy whump, psychological whump, memory alteration, forced submission, dub-con kissing

"I'll probably have to erase your memories. Just as a precaution" Villain's calm voice rang out in the small room as he paced back and forth, not even looking at Hero.

"You're joking right?!"

Hero didn't want his voice to sound so hysterical. He also didn't want to endure Villain's serious look any longer, which only made him more aware of what a terrible situation he was in.

His eyes lingered on random objects, desperately searching for a way out. But he didn't find it. The Villain was blocking his path to the door and Hero realized painfully that there was no chance of getting past him and escaping through the narrow corridor. Not when he's like this. Not now. The only exit was the window he was standing next to. His heart skipped a beat as he thought about what this meant for him, but still, against all reason, his hand slowly moved towards the window handle.

"I don't advise it. You'll break your legs. And then I will come down to you and erase your memories anyway. You will only suffer unnecessarily" Villain said in an almost completely indifferent tone of voice, but there was a hint of concern in it.

Hero snorted, even though he knew Villain was right. And he hated him for it. He also hated the concern in his voice. As if he ever cared about his life and happiness.

"So I should just let you do it, right? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?!" Hero didn't want to scream, not again. But he couldn't help but be overcomed with emotions.

Villain stopped and looked at him for the first time since the incident.

"Yes. That will be better. For you. For me. I don't want to fight."

Villain continued to maintain his mask of indifference, and Hero hated the fact that he couldn't read his true emotions. He would have preferred anger because it was predictable, but now he had no idea what to expect.

"There must be another way. Anything else. I can stay silent and pretend I didn't see anything, I can..."

Villain interrupted him with a joyless laugh.

"We both know it won't work. You'll open your dirty mouth and blurt everything out at the end. Or worse, you'll try to help me. I won't let you do this." With each word, Villain got closer to Hero, who could no longer move back, pressed against the wall. He glanced out the window again, but quickly shook his head. The consequences would be too great.

So he risked looking into Villain's eyes and saw no uncertainty in them. He swallowed.

"I could at least try..." his voice was quieter this time, more shaky due to Villain's proximity. Great.

"Would you like to continue pretending to be a hero? It didn't work out last time."

Hero grimaced at the reference to recent events, but did not comment on his words, refusing to be provoked.

There was a sudden tension in the air, full of heavy memories that each of them preferred to keep silent for now.

“So you can see that I have no other choice, my dear,” Villain said after a long moment, breaking the silence.

Something about the way he said that endearment made Hero's heart skip a beat, but he quickly came to his senses, remembering his threat.

"You're an escapist, you know? You would do anything to avoid the consequences, to start over..."

Instead of the expected anger, Hero saw only calmness in Villain, with a hint of amusement at his feeble attempts to distract him to escape.

"What's wrong with escapism, hmm?" he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind Hero's ear.

Hero shuddered, his thoughts made no sense, and for a moment he focused only on the touch on his cheek, on the warmth of Villain's hand, on the knowledge that if only the situation was different, he could kiss him here and now.

"Don't try to avoid it," Villain whispered tenderly into his ear, aware of the effect it was having on him. "Just give up. Submit. It'll hurt you less than if I had to force you to do it."

But I don't want to have my memories deleted, Hero wanted to say, but the prepared words disappeared from his head as soon as Villain ran his hand through his hair. Hero sighed.

Villain suddenly pulled away to look into his eyes. Hero closed it in a sudden panic.

"What exactly do you want to delete? How many days?" he managed to say in a trembling voice.

"Just today," Villain assured him, smiling. "Removing more memories would affect you too much. And we don't want that, right?"

Hero just nodded, not noticing the strange gleam in Villain's eyes.

"And if you're going to forget anyway..." Villain approached him again and kissed him gently on the lips.

Hero had no idea what had just happened. His heart was racing and he felt that his cheeks were completely red. He kept repeating the question in his mind: why, why, why, why, why? But he received no answer.

Villain placed his hand on his blushed cheek again and stared into his eyes as if he wanted to remember the sight. And then he kissed him again, this time on the forehead.

"Sorry." Hero heard a quiet whisper and didn't know how to react. And if any of his reactions would have changed Villain's mind at all. Probably not.

That's why when Villain looked at him again, Hero didn't close his eyes.

A sharp, stabbing pain immediately shot through his head, and Hero couldn't help but hiss and crouch down as if it would protect him.

But Villain then moved his hand to his chin and forced him to straighten up and look him in the eye.

"You're unconsciously resisting, that's why it hurts. Stop it, Hero. Give up, enough of this fighting. It will be better for you this way" his sweet, calm voice made Hero start to calm down involuntarily. The feeling that he was going to cry disappeared. The pain subsided.

And then, as soon as he felt someone infiltrating his mind, searching through his memories, Hero submitted and everything went dark.

#villains and heroes #heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #whump #whump writing #whump snippet #whump community #fantasy whump #psychological whump #intimate whumper #our writing

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ro-rogue · 7 months ago

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i have very mixed feelings about the new bostin confrontation that got john expelled.

it is portrayed as the worst of john's actions in new bostin, his lowest, most violent moment. and while that last part is not untrue, i feel like the confrontation is a lot more complicated than just john going insane.

by that point, john had already been king for a little while, and he was absolutely terrible at it. (i've written before on why i think that is, and even his objectively horrible actions here were not excusable but understandable.) claire decided he needed to be stopped, and she gathered a bunch of their schoolmates to confront him, as her vision had shown. then, instead of trying to talk it out, zirian (one of the people she had gathered, for some reason) immediately attacked john, and everything devolved from there.

now, a few things stick out to me here:

first of all, claire took zirian with her to confront john. the question is: why? john and zirian had already fought on multiple occassions, and last time they fought, john had beaten zirian. did claire think seeing someone john defeated in a fair fight would make him realize he was a horrible person? did she think that if people saw zirian, they too would be willing to confront john? but wouldn't those people then think they were going to beat john up? did she not realize that if people believed her lie enough to follow her, they would be prepared to act on it too? i really struggle with her thought process here.

next, zirian thought that they could beat john if they all worked together. this supports my theory that the kids in new bostin had absolutely no idea how powerful a god-tier was. the wellston kids would never try to gang up like that on pre-ability loss seraphina - they knew she was too strong.

however, they did gang up on john at least sixteen-to-one (in episode 185, the shot with the most classmates shows sixteen people). when claire was telling the story to seraphina, she made it sound like it was completely unreasonable that john assumed that a group of people who all hated him, at least some of whom he had fought before, including the former king, would want to attack and overthrow him. "he refused to listen" is true, and something john has struggled with a lot both before and after the ambush, but to be honest, in his shoes, i also wouldn't have believed claire.

moreover, he is criticized for going too far in beating them up, but imo that mostly applies to claire and adrion, who weren't actually attacking him. the other fifteen kids were very clearly willing to hurt him just as much as he ended up hurting them. besides, they were attacking him fifteen-to-one, with claire standing to the side - what was john supposed to do? hold back?

the answer, of course, is yes: he should've. it was absolutely not right for him to go that far. but we must understand that john was sixteen, stressed, hurt, and facing people who were likely his former bullies, in the sense that everyone used to bully him.

(plus claire, who gathered everyone there, and how was he supposed to know that she didn't mean for it to turn out like that? and plus adrion, who called the authorities on him, which was objectively a good decision, but it can be hard to see it that way when you're the one who the cops are being called on)

in addition to that, if seraphina or even arlo had been ganged up on like that, no one would be surprised if they, too, fucked up their opponents. (remember that turf war back in episode 17/18/something? where arlo clearly wasn't just going to stop hurting rein, not until seraphina physically stopped him?) john was out of control and very much Not Okay, but his handling of the ambush actually seems to be quite typical for a god-tier.

so to conclude, the new bostin ambush/confrontation was more complex than simply john going crazy, and while both he and claire definitely think that he is the only one at fault there and he acted completely irrationally, that isn't actually the case, and uno readers should be aware that we are viewing the story from the perspectives of biased and thus unreliable narrators.

#ofc this doesnt mean that john wasnt in the wrong here. he was. but its more complex than just that #it has been bugging me for a while how little uno readers seem to try to understand his actions #not just excuse them or make him into a better person #here i am again w my john doe analysis #john doe #uno #unordinary #john doe unordinary

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alicent-vi-britannia · 9 months ago

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What was C.C.'s wish? And what kind of relationship does C.C. with Lelouch?

Today I'm going to get into swampy water because for the first time on this page I'm going to address CC's wish and I'm going to take her relationship with Lelouch very seriously. Lelouch and C.C.'s relationship is one of the most misunderstood in the series. Honestly, I think very few fans understand all the relationships in Code Geass. What sets Lelouch and CC apart is that their relationship is highly idealized for the wrong reasons. In other words, fans love the idea they have of Lelouch and CC's relationship, rather than what it is. This time I'm not going to talk about the headcanons of the shippers, I'm going to talk about the canon and in order not to go on too long, I'll limit myself to talking about the core of the relationship and to do so, I have to explain what C.C.'s wish is.

So what was C.C.'s true wish? She longed for love in its purest form. An unconditional love because deep down she wanted to be recognized as human and that is the cornerstone on which the relationship between Lelouch and C.C. is built. C.C.'s past shows us that she was dehumanized at an early age: by her condition as a slave that defined her as an inferior being before her masters, by the people on whom she used her Geass who reduced her to an object of desire, by the nun who used her as a tool for her own purposes and for the code that turned her into the Immortal Witch we know. This human degradation in combination with deep emotional deficiencies from childhood and the traumatic experiences we saw in episode 15 of R1 led to the development of low self-esteem and the appearance of suicidal tendencies.

C.C.'s death wish, in fact, is a manifestation that C.C. has no self-love. I have read some opinions that suggest that C.C. is self-deprecating, but I disagreed with them because C.C. didn't love herself long before she met the nun and beyond feeling guilty for giving Geass to Lelouch and the children of the Geass Cult, she never reproaches herself nor do we see her devalue herself as they have made other characters with themselves (Suzaku, Nina, Euphemia…). So I don't think she had an opinion of herself until she assumed her condition as selfish Immortal Witch (which is a stage in her life when she had morality removed from her). And you can't hate yourself if you didn't love yourself at some point.

It isn't so simple to see that C.C. has low self-esteem since her arc has a philosophical approach and in that sense it differs from Rolo's arc, which also starts from the theme of "love" and the thesis that "love humanizes you"; but the message reaches us much more directly because it doesn't have a sieve. C.C. justifies her suicidal plan by appealing to passive nihilism. "Life is absurd and has no meaning because there is no love, there is pain and if life has no end it means that the pain is eternal." Faced with this terrible conclusion, C.C. thinks it is better to take her own life. But death doesn't represent a solution. In reality, just as it is for Suzaku, death is an escape from the suffering that C.C. feels and, at the same time, it is a way of becoming aware of her humanity by recognizing the existence of death; because, as Martin's character said in the anime Monster, "nobody really wants to die."

This is one reason why C.C. refused to give her code to Charles at the last minute and didn't force Mao and Lelouch to take her code, preferring to abandon them. The other reason is that C.C. isn't so petty as to condemn them against their will to an immortal life since she felt affection for them and in turn, Lelouch and Mao wouldn't be able to take the code, knowing that C.C. wanted to end her life. The problem is that C.C. doesn't know what she wants and she has no idea what love is. She had no parents or friends. She only knew conceptually what love is, but Geass offered her a distorted vision of her wish and, as she herself said, she forgot what it is (and that's why it's ridiculous when CluClu fanboys deny C.C.'s words about her feelings for Lelouch, when she tells Kallen that she doesn't know if she loves him in episode 24 of R2, and insist on emphatically stating that C.C. was in love with Lelouch). Furthermore, she was so immersed in her own suffering that she couldn't realize that she already had what she always wanted.

Ironically, C.C. decided to cut connections for fear of suffering again and being despised. People tend to project themselves onto others and those who suffer from low self-esteem think that no one can love them because if they themselves can't do it, neither can others. Hence she distances herself emotionally from her contractors, how? Through contracts (it is C.C.'s favorite barrier). By defining her relationships strictly in contractual terms, she already creates a distance. In psychology, there is a term for it and it is "attachment." Broadly speaking, the relationship that an individual and his or her caregivers had in childhood will determine their relationships in adulthood. Clearly C.C. manifests an avoidant attachment. "Avoidant attachment is characterized by the tendency to avoid emotional intimacy and dependency in a relationship. People with this type of attachment tend to maintain emotional distance and may be reluctant to express their feelings. This may be due to past experiences of rejection , abandonment or emotional wounds that have led to the creation of an emotional shell as a protection mechanism."

Initially, Lelouch also dehumanized C.C. considering her an Immortal Witch. Like Clovis and Code R, he intended to study her is not until after he hears C.C. call her own name in her dreams in the cave in Narita that he begins to treat her like a human. That moment in the cave is important for both of them. On Lelouch's side, because C.C. enter the circle of his loved ones. And, on C.C.'s side, because Lelouch thus became the first person to treat her as a human. So the first emotional bonds are forged that become stronger as time goes by and thus we arrive at the favorite episode of CluClu fans: "C's World", from the second season.

Episode 15 of R2 is a sample that Lelouch really is a good person: even though he just discovered that C.C. used him to transfer a curse to him and that she was dishonest with him about her relationship with his father, Lelouch shows compassion and empathy for C.C. because he wants his loved ones to be happy (and he has seen C.C.'s unfortunate past recently). Therefore, he asks C.C. that she dies with a smile, which, at the same time, is a tight synthesis of Agathonism, which is the philosophy that refutes passive nihilism and whose maximum postulate is "enjoy life and help live a pleasant life." This noble request constitutes a turning point in the relationship between them since in this way the contract between partners of Lelouch and C.C. becomes a promise between two humans (words from the official Code Geass guide, not mine). Why? Because in that moment when Lelouch promises to make her smile, C.C. see his love. The Greeks divided love into several types and one of them is agape. Agape is the highest form of love and charity and essentially refers to unconditional love (in fact, Christians later adopted the term to precisely describe the love that God feels toward humanity). This is the love that Lelouch professes for C.C.

The following episodes only emphasize what it already demonstrated before. Even when C.C. lost her memory, even when her association with his enemy and her participation in the Ragnarök Connection came to light, even when she withheld pertinent information from him, even when she gave him the Geass that would change his life forever, even when Lelouch had to sacrifice himself to atone for his sins and bring peace to the world, Lelouch never held a grudge against C.C. On the contrary, he always treated her with kindness and offered her empathy and gratitude. In the end, Lelouch managed to save C.C. of her self-destruction by accepting her and recognizing her as his equal. This is what restores C.C.'s will to live and gives her the motivation she needs to find love and acceptance for herself.

In addition to the fact that Zero Requiem gives a new perspective to C.C. since not only does she witness Lelouch's love for humanity, she also sees Lelouch's persistence despite difficulties. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is being human. She understands then what it is to be human and what life means. It's about survival. And, similarly, C.C. understand what love is. It's about sacrifice. Thanks to Zero Requiem and Lelouch, C.C. finds meaning in life and is more than ready to embrace it and love. Thus Lelouch honored his promise to C.C. and it only remains for her to live and be happy as he desired.

Indeed, Larry. C.C. has a love story, not with Lelouch, but with herself and interpreting Lelouch and C.C.'s relationship. as a romantic relationship would strip away the powerful character of C.C.'s arc. and it would take away from the uniqueness of her relationship with Lelouch (which I confess I didn't find at all special at first, compared to Lelouch's other relationships that featured much more complex, nuanced, rich, and interesting dynamics and developments). Besides that's the point of their relationship. When C.C. tells Lelouch in episode 24 of R2 that he is not like any man she has ever known, she meant that she had met contractors and people who had hated and loved her, in what sense? Exactly like Mao. That's why the official Code Geass guide explicitly notes that Lelouch never saw her as his lover or mother. Therefore, if he had expressed romantic love or erotic love or filial love (storge is the Greek term), Lelouch wouldn't be different from Mao. He loved her in a way no one else had. And that is agape love. The one who only pursues the well-being of the other, putting it before his own, without expecting anything in return, even if that love isn't reciprocated, which has nothing to do with romantic love or sexual desire. In agape love there is no jealousy, envy, distrust, betrayal or anger towards the other for their failures or actions, because, simply, you love the person, accepting them as they are. That's the relationship Lelouch and C.C. have.

PS: enough of believing that self-esteem problems are solved thanks to romantic love, Julia. That only happens in novels of dubious quality.

#code geass #code geass: lelouch of the rebellion #lelouch lamperouge #lelouch vi britannia #lelouch #c.c. (code geass)#cluclu #lelouch x c.c.

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bonzos-number-1-fan · 6 months ago

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Putting the CAT# Back in the Bag: The Flaws With Person/Place/Object

Hi, I’m bonzos-number-1-fan You might know me from such theories as; "Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre", "What R# Means: The ABCs of Fear" or, "Padlocks, How Do They Even Work?".

I’m back with another essay about this show. Today’s subject is a little different from previous ones. Rather than explaining what I think something in this show is, I’ll be explaining what I think it isn’t. What I’m going to be talking about is the very popular theory that CAT1/2/3 means the supernatural aspect is a Person/Place/Object.

Because I’m talking about other people’s ideas here I do want to start off by saying I understand why this theory is attractive and I don’t think anyone is stupid or anything for believing it. I just personally think there are angles from which it doesn’t work and that the sum of them makes it fairly certain to be untrue. I could be very wrong about that, and my other theories, or I could be very right. I don’t think either scenario matters much. This essay isn’t about being right but about talking about a big thing in the community. I just happen to not believe this one and people have signalled interest in hearing why.

So with all that out of the way I’m going to start by establishing the terminology being used. Then I’ll break down what this theory is positing and follow it up with the ways I think it does and doesn’t work. That’s basically it but with 16 episodes and supplemental material to cover it’s still not going to be terribly short.

Huge thanks to @brettanomycroft for proof reading/editing this madness.

Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol up to and including episode 16.

What is a CAT#?

A CAT# is the first 4-5 characters of an OIAR's incident report header. While these are not often referenced in the main body of the show, each incident we hear is accompanied by one in the show's description and transcript. As an example this is the case number for the first incident of episode 1.

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

The first line is the case number. CAT1 is this incident's CAT#. The RBC (R#/Rank) and 5257 (DPHW) have been topics I've discussed in essays I linked at the start. The second line is the header and is formatted “Section (Subsection) -/- Crosslink [Format]”. CAT#s is all we're concerning ourselves with today but I will be using this terminology going forward.

Now we know what they look like, what is it we know about them? Well, not much at all. From the show itself we know there are CAT1s, CAT2s, CAT3s and CAT23s. From the Klaus excel sheet that was found as part of the ARG (and can be found here) we also know there are CAT12s and CAT13s. With that information we can say with some certainty that CAT1, CAT2, and CAT3 are non-mutually exclusive groupings. It's very likely not a linear scale of some description—i.e CAT23 isn't between CAT2 and CAT3—because CAT13 doesn't fit such a scale. Which means that where there are two numbers in a CAT# that incident likely fits both groups rather than being a new group. This also strongly implies that an incident could be CAT123 although we have yet to see that demonstrated.

We also know that CAT is short for "Category". In the Klaus sheet these numbers are located in the "Kategorie" column. "Kategorie" being German for "category". This unfortunately doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know. CAT#s denote some form of grouping.

There is only one other fact we know about CAT#s and that's this:

ALICE Right, so, after each entry there's four numbers. That’s the DPHW. So, “dolls comma watching” is… 1157. Then you cross reference with the table here, that would be a 2-C, and then you type that into the box here, along with date of incident if there is one and today’s date.

Which is not a lot to go on at all but it does raise an important question. How is a CAT# assigned? There are two major assumptions you could make here. The first is the “objective method” and that it’s a factor of either the section, subject, DPHW or a combination thereof. This means that they are pre-assigned in the same way that DPHWs are. This method has an inherent trait in that it means every header manifests as the same sort of thing. While it’s not a problem to say that every Doll (Watching) is the same— that could just be the rules of the setting—it does make CAT# itself somewhat redundant. The terminology of the headers will often describe something inherent about the CAT#. We have a CAT3 case that’s Dice (Bone) -/- Fate but dice are objects so why would you need to restate that?

The second is the “subjective method” in which the assessor chooses the CAT# based on the incident itself. The subjective method has a larger assumption built into it in that they know what CAT#s are. They don’t know what DPHW is and have shown no indication of knowing what CAT# is either. So I’d say it’s less likely that CAT#s are subjective rather than objective. However, for the purposes of this essay I will assume that both are as likely to be true as each other and will refer to them both. Different cases show different flaws when one of these is true over the other, so both will get discussed.

What is Person/Place/Object?

Person/Place/Object is the theory that the three single digit CAT#s stand for Person, Place, and Object respectively. Combinations of these digits represent that an incident falls into each category. A CAT1 incident indicates that the supernatural element of an incident is a person in some respect, while a CAT23 would indicate both a place and an object.

As I have mentioned this isn’t a theory with a single theorist or origin to point to. As such this theory isn’t a monolith and there is variation in how these categories are presented from theory to theory. Sometimes “Person” is literal and other times it includes any sentient thing, “places” aren’t always strictly physical locations, and the narrative framing of what “objects” are may shift. As such I will be taking the broadest interpretation of these categories as their definitions.

People will include animals and other sentient beings. Places will include metaphysical locations. Objects won’t need to be physical in nature. This is both the fairest I can be to all theories and also the strongest I can make this theory. The broader I can make these definitions, the more different ideas can be represented and the more wiggle room the CAT#s get.

What I’ll do next is run through all the incidents the show has mentioned and explain them as I see it. We’ll start with the ones that fit this theory well because they require little explanation. Then when that’s established we’ll talk about the places I think this theory falls down.

Which Incidents fit well?

CAT1:

CAT1RBC5257 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret: There is something like a zombie in this incident. That’s something like a person and so fits well.

CAT1RB4824 Injury (Needles) -/- Intimidation: Needles is definitely a person, no question there.

CAT1RB2275 Mascot (Kids) -/- Murder: Bonzo walks, “talks”, and probably thinks. He’s a person.

CAT1B4728 Mascot (Kids) -/- Frenzy: Bonzo is still doing that stuff so is still a person.

CAT1RB4426 Transformation (Snake) -/-Horde: There was a person and they turned into snakes. Snakes count as people here too. Given the amount of snakes this is the most CAT1 CAT1.

CAT1RB-6451 Hunt (Aristocratic) -/- Compulsion: Lady M is the most person on this list.

CAT1RB1565 Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac: Definitely involves a person doing something supernatural.

CAT2:

CAT2C8175 Infection (Full Body) -/- Arboreal: This incident takes place in a time and space bending garden. Makes perfect sense for CAT2.

CAT2RB2377 Disappearance (Undetermined) -/- Invitation: A spooky theatre is a location for sure.

CAT3:

CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic: In this instance the object in question is the tattoo. Which I think is really stretching the definition of “object” but I’m still going to give it to the theory.

CAT3C7494 Collection (Blood) -/- Musical: A magical violin is definitely an object.

CAT3RB3354 Dice (Bone) -/- Fate: Bone dice are inarguably objects.

CAT3RB4622 Gambling (Application) -/- Murder: It’s another stretch to call an app an object but, again, happy to give it to the theory.

CAT23:

CAT23RAB2155 Transformation (Eyes) -/- Trespass: In this incident’s case the location is the Magnus Institute and the object is the box RedCanary stole. I think there are some problems with this one but there is enough to get through.

Which Incidents Don't?

CAT1:

CAT1RBC5257 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret: You’re not misremembering, I did say this fit well. Because on the surface it really does make sense, but I think if you push just a little it makes very little sense. Why? Because any category you want to place this in is easily justified in the incident itself. There is a zombie-esque thing but also a Frankenstein-esque figure for CAT1. CAT 2 would be the location of the graveyard itself. It was chosen by the presumed creator of this zombie-like creature and is depicted similar to the one in Marked, a CAT23 incident. If this theory is correct and the Marked graveyard is supernatural I can’t see a reason to discount that possibility here. CAT3 fits too because the presumed creation method is that they were Frankenstein-ed which does require some sort of surgical apparatus. But whichever choice you make you’ve not really clarified the incident at all.

This issue is further seen in the methodology of assigning CAT#s.Objectively it has the same problem all objective assignments do. Reanimation implies there is going to be a reanimated person so restating that doesn’t add much. If we look at the subjective method then this is chosen largely at random. There isn’t enough of an indication in this incident to clearly state which CAT this is. So it’s neither helped in the assessment of the incident and doesn’t provide anything for response because all choices are justifiable.

CAT1RB4426 Transformation (Snake) -/- Horde: Not misremembering here either. There is a problem with this one in that it’s demonstrated to be an infection. This makes the source of the affliction basically unknowable. The source could qualify it for other CATs but the larger issue here is that what CAT1 means here and what it means elsewhere are not that comparable. Needles, Bonzo, and Lady M are all sentient and independent. The afflicted we see in this case are normal people until they get very rapidly sick, summon a portal to the snake dimension in their throats, and die. Which leaves CAT1 translating to “something in the rough shape of a person” which is a really wide range of interpretations. Which is something I feel has little practical utility in either assessing or responding to these incidents.

CAT1RB1565 Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac: Still not misremembering. While you can say that Ink5oul or Madame E are the person in this instance there is a major conflict here with CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic. If Daria’s transformation was CAT3 because tattoos are objects then there is no reasonable justification that this isn’t at least CAT13. It’s the same person, doing the same thing, to a very similar result but in a different CAT. The headers are entirely different, and so this/that may be misfiled, but it highlights a problem with Daria’s incident. If the incident with the Tattoo header isn’t an object then tattoos are probably not objects under this scheme.

If this is objective then this is always a person, or on people, which makes a great deal of sense. However if that’s the case then the objective method for Daria’s case sort of falls apart because there wasn’t really a secondary object there. Additionally, because all incidents with that case’s header being objects is a huge stretch. So if this incident, or that incident, is misfiled it doesn’t really matter. In either case (or even if both of them are misfiled), it largely disproves that tattoos are objects, creating a larger issue with that theory as it affects more than just this case. Subjectively as far as we’re aware Sam filed all three of the Ink5oul incidents. So he chose an object in Daria’s case but then opted against it here despite there being no real reason to that we can see. You could say that now Ink5oul has been in it more, he thinks Ink5oul has some sort of supernatural power themselves which makes them a CAT1; that would still make this CAT13 as episode 11 was CAT23.

CAT2:

CAT2RC1157 Dolls (Watching): This is a big one in my opinion. It’s not only the first incident we’re told about, but it's both Sam’s and our first exposure to an explanation of the OIAR’s filing system. It’s also one I see ignored in most of the posts that posit the Person/Place/Object theory. That is understandable as we don’t hear the incident itself but we do hear enough of it to show that there is a flaw in the theory.

What we hear about this incident is entirely focused on the doll itself and questions about its nature. It’s a split between Dolls (Watching) and Dolls (Human Skin) with the former being chosen as the latter is only implied. Dolls themselves are objects which would make this CAT3, and if the doll is sentient a CAT1. However, this is placed in CAT2 indicating that it's actually caused by the location in some respect. In order for that to make sense you have to make 3 major assumptions. Assumption 1: despite no indication in the conversation about this incident suggesting anything outside of the doll being strange there was actually a “haunted house”. Assumption 2: despite there being sections far more descriptive of locations—i.e Architecture—Dolls is more suited to this incident. Assumption 3: despite this being Sam’s/the audience’s first exposure to this system it leaves out the real source of the incident when, narratively, this is an explanation of it. Those are some fairly major assumptions to make to justify a theory.

This also has issues with either method of assigning CAT#s. If CAT# is objective then every Dolls (Watching) is actually a location. Unlike with something like Reanimation (Partial) that doesn't make much sense as dolls themselves are objects. In the subjective method, Alice assigned this as a location but their discussion of it centred solely on an object and she didn't explain to Sam why she did it.

CAT2RC3338 Agglomeration (Miscellany) -/- Congregation: This might be my favourite example of issues I have with this theory. To explain it we’ll look at this from both the objective and subjective methods while taking into account outside knowledge of the show from an audience perspective.

Everyone I’ve seen posit this theory attributes CAT2 to Hilltop here.They do this solely because of TMA. There is nothing in this episode that makes Hilltop out to be anything special in any way. But because Hilltop is special in TMA the audience is primed to view this location as special. It may very well be but there is no reason to think that. In fact, I’d argue there's reason to think otherwise based on this episode, but that is a little off topic for this essay. However from an objective perspective it can’t take Hilltop into account because not every header of this sort will take place in Hilltop. They could only manifest at special locations but that seems like a stretch. If it is true, why does this unique combination of words not include a word that describes it as a location? Subjectively it could be a misfile. Celia would be the only person who knows what Hilltop is in TMA— assuming some of the theories on her are correct—but that doesn’t make Hilltop important in and of itself. It also means she ignored large parts of this incident when filing it just to focus on that element. As this case is the one Alice uses to teach Celia the system with, then this also relies on Alice knowing or not correcting Celia. In either scenario this case is full of people of definite supernatural quality, lacks a location of supernatural quality, but has 100s of objects of dubious supernatural quality. Something doesn’t make sense here if this theory is correct.

CAT2RBC3366 Architecture (Liminal) -/- Hunger: This one is interesting because it shows a flaw not in the theory per se but in the methodology as a whole if the theory is correct. If CAT# is what the theory says it is why is this just CAT2? It being CAT2 at all is redundant when its header describes a location but in this incident we see it’s populated by supernatural creatures. I call them Uncannybals—as should you—and they’re monsters living in the shadow realm. That seems like very important information to include. So it should be CAT12 as there are both people and a place. The OIAR methodology already has the problem that you can’t include multiple headers but CAT#s, if they worked like this, could be used to alleviate that issue. The way it’s implemented here just makes it virtually pointless to include at all.

CAT3:

CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic: This was largely already covered. So simply put if Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic is an object because of the tattoo, and Tattoo (Corpse) -/- Compulsion is an object because of the tattoo, but Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac isn’t an object despite being virtually identical to this case then CAT3 doesn't mean object.

The method problems are the same as above too. Now this case is the one most likely of the three to be misfiled. So you could say that Daria's case is misfiled and would actually be CAT1 if filed correctly. Tattoos aren’t objects, this case is a mistake. Then you could explain that Marked is CAT23 because corpses are objects (so 13 if he was alive). Objectively this header always being CAT3 still poses problems because we know there are Transformations that don’t require objects. Which brings us back to the problem of “why are the headers so bad at describing these things?”. If it’s subjective Sam decided that object instead of person made more sense here. Seemingly based on the fact that there is a tattoo. Later on he changed his mind about this but choosing it in the first place seems like a stretch. If he knew what these things meant in order to choose them, object seems like a very unobvious choice.

CAT23:

CAT23RC5246 Tattoo (Corpse) -/- Compulsion: This one is fairly clear to me. I’m going to be very generous and suggest that the corpse here is the object based on the above. The reason this one is a problem is that there wasn’t a location here. I’ve seen people say that it must be the graveyard but that’s confirmation bias IMO. It wasn’t a large feature of the episode, didn’t do anything coastal graveyards don’t do, and had no overt supernatural properties to it. I don’t personally think anyone would categorise this as CAT23 based on the incident alone but because CAT23 people will justify it to fit. That’s not inherently a problem because sometimes you have to make assumptions but given all of the above I don’t think that assumption is a reasonable one to make.

Objectively all compelling corpse tattoos are found in magical graveyards—or morgues, tombs, goth bars, and other corpse hangouts—and I think we can all agree that’s sort of wack. Subjectively Sam decided the graveyard was magic despite there being nothing to suggest that.

Klaus’ CAT#s:

This is a bit of a special section. I briefly mention Klaus in the intro but I didn’t mention that some of the incidents we’ve heard have been found on the Klaus sheet. The canonicity of these aren’t 100% and I would say the show takes precedent so this is supplemental rather than definitive. I think I’ve more than shown that this theory doesn’t hold up. This is more of an academic exercise.

The big thing to know here is that Kluas’ cases lack headers entirely but that some Klaus cases have notes and it’s these notes attached. It’s only one’s with those notes I’m interested in for this because of how they relate to things we’ve heard. One case is CAT3RBC1567 with the note “tinte”. CAT3RBC1567 is Daria’s case and “tinte” is German for “ink”. So this is very likely that case. There are 4 other cases with that note and they’re two CAT1s, a CAT3, and a CAT13. So even if Daria’s case is misfiled not all of those are the correct CAT# for that assumption. There are also two CAT1s and a CAT2 marked “Herr B”, which is “Mr B” in English. These aren’t tied to a Bonzo case we’ve heard yet but one of them does take place in Bland Theme Park, Somerset. That’s not definitively Bonzo but it’s a good hint at it.

Additionally there are 6 CAT2 cases that have the note “Katzen LOL” or “Cats LOL” which you’d expect to be CAT1s if there are cats involved. In a similar vein there are one CAT1 and five CAT2s marked “Kreigsvolk” which is literally “War People” but more likely “Army” or “Soldiers”. Again, you’d expect more CAT1s if CAT1 is people.

I’m not saying any of the above is the backbone of my reasoning here but these are things that are showing up in the show and they do seem to be pointing the same direction as what I’m saying. Ignoring them entirely I think the theory doesn’t hold up but with them I think it’s very clear.

Conclusion

I don’t have much of a wrap up here. Anyone who’s been reading my posts for a while has known that I’ve never thought this theory worked. It’s not something I ever get too deep into because I’m also obviously happy for people to have ideas I disagree with, as am I happy for them to disagree with my ideas. That’s just healthy theorising. I’d been considering writing this for a while though but was mostly held back by not wanting to come across as some sort of arbiter of what is and isn’t correct, and didn’t want to seem like I was calling anyone out specifically. However a few people now said they wanted to see this and there are enough instances of parallel thought on this theory that it’s impossible for me to really single people out now. So here we are.

Just to reiterate for people that did/do believe this theory I don’t think anyone was stupid and/or wrong for thinking it. I hope if the above has convinced you that I’m right about it that you’re not dissuaded from making and sharing future theories. I’ve have 3 or 4 terrible CAT# theories and a few R# theories too. My current ideas on DPHW and R# might be awfully wrong in the long run and that’ll be okay.

That’s me anyway, hope this was at the very least an interesting read if it didn’t manage to be a convincing one. Bonzo! Bonzo!! Bonzo!!!

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theory #tmagp speculation #klaus = kl4-u5

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latent-thoughts · 1 year ago

Note

The Jews weren't the first natives in that region. The Canaanites were there before the Jews showed up to violently erase them from existence for the terrible crime of not being of Yahweh's choosen people. All Jews know this. It is literally in the fucking book. You know this.

Don't lie in order to defend the idea that Israel is a thing that absolutely must exist. It's fine that you believe that idea, but what's getting irksome is this underlying insistence that "Israel must exist" is an obvious conclusion to the region's problems and anyone who has a modicum of moral fiber in their soul can clearly see that. Your religion isn't true to the people who aren't you. I do not recognize the Jews as a chosen, special sort of people and I shouldn't be expected to. And, yes, I can tell when it's expected because they'll get annoyed when I mention the Canaanites. Yeah, I've seen the eye-rolls, the "history's a complex mess so I'm justified in picking and choosing what events humanity should give a shit about based on how recent they are and how much the directly affect MY culture" bullshit, the accusations of antisemitism despite the fact that I would be completely fine with the existence of Israel if the people who made it didn't, well, slaughter the families of Canaanites in order to do so. Also, Israel isn't a person or a type of person, it's a state, it's completely fine to hate and isn't synonymous with hating Jews. If you think that it is, I'm going to remind you that people who aren't Jewish exist and they don't need to necessarily have the values Jews want them to in order to good people.

If the foundation of your state is built on moving into land that isn't yours and erasing the people that your god doesn't want there, it's completely reasonable to expect that other states might just return that favor in kind. After all, you set the precedent, right? And then constantly referred to it in your holy texts like it was the best, most necessary thing that ever needed to happen. That kind of zeal certainly won't spread.

Oh boy, I'm going to say it. I think that all of the states that have ever engaged in and justified (I'm going to say it) genocidal behavior aren't really... y'know worth defending? Worth giving a shit about? And yeah, saying "God needed us to do it! We are the chosen people! HOLY LAND!" is a shitty justification. Objectively shitty. Jewish people aren't the chosen people to anyone else besides other Jewish people. Nothing really wrong with that, but... nothing really that right with it either. It kinda cancels itself out.

Long ask, I know. Whatever. Stop lying. The Canaanites were there before the Jews. The Jews killed them all then called the land they stole from them "Israel". See? There are perfectly good reasons to hate Israel that have nothing to do with Palestine.

C'mon, the Americas had fucking slavery. England tried to take over the world. Hell, Germany tried to kill all of you! Israel is another shitty place. It isn't special.

I vow to ignore Israel from now on, achieving everlasting peace and making the entire Middle East envious of me.

Oh, and to be absolutely clear in the most awkward manner possible, I don't hate the Jews. I just find their bullshit to be really fucking annoying.

If the Jews killed them all, how is it that their DNA is still dominant in modern day Jews (plus Palestinians and other populations of Levant)?

The truth is that both Jews and Palestinians were part of the same people at some point in time, who also mixed with Canaanites and settled in the region that is modern day Israel+Levant. And Canaanites' ancestors had actually arrived in that region from further East.

So by your logic, then, even the Canaanites weren't the natives of that land.

(There may have been tribal wars, as was common in that era, but it's pretty clear that no one wiped out anyone.)

We can keep going back in time to disprove the indigeneity of people till we arrive in Africa. Which is kind of moronic, TBH.

Personally, I'm not denying the indigeneity of either Jews or Palestinians. Only you are trying to justify your hatred for Jews and denying that they have a right to live in their homeland. Just by saying that you don't hate Jews doesn't veil your anti-semitism.

Both Jews and Palestinians deserve to live there. A two state solution is one way for it. Terrorism by Hamas isn't.

Furthermore, if you know your history (which I'm having doubts about), you know that Jews were persecuted and driven out of almost all the countries and kingdoms they had moved to over the centuries. There were Jews in the Middle Eastern countries, African countries, Europe, etc.. Tell me what happened to them. If you can't, you don't understand why Jews wanted a country of their own, in their native homeland.

With the exception of India, they were either killed, forcefully converted, or driven out of these countries at some point in time. The Holocaust is just one such instance over the centuries, and it was a big deal. The present day rising anti-semitism only strengthens their belief that they're never fully accepted in other places. Hence their need for self determination and separate state of their own (which they already have, btw).

Also, I know you didn't bother to check before coming in my inbox to spew venom, but I'm not Jewish. I'm not even from that region. But I understand what it means to have a history that's full of massacres and genocide of my people.

Plus, I'm someone who likes to stay informed, someone who's against anti-semitism. I don't need to be a Jew to understand where they're coming from.

#antisemitism #jews #jewish #jewish history #Israel #anon ask #troll anons #istg these anons are so annoying

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alittlebit0fmayhem · 2 years ago

Text

𝙻𝚊 𝚅𝚒𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎

I siriusly don't know why I've chosen now to fall back into my marauders phase, mais c'est la vie...

(see what I did there?)

I've taken French for literally five years, (I'm nowhere near fluent tho) so I have no idea why it's taken me so long to incorporate it into my writing.

In all honesty, I'm doing great mentally, but I've been pining for some wolfstar! x reader angst, and I haven't really found any that meet my fancy yet soooooo.

Fine I'll do it myself.

Summary: You were a hopeless romantic who had always tended to see things through rose colored glasses, falling in love with the idea of falling in love. Each new infatuation came to you like a fascination ready to be explored, there was nothing you loved more than the head-games of an all consuming crush. That was until, the latest object of attraction became two boys so incredibly and viscerally out of your reach.

Warnings: Angst! (like a lot), Unrequited love, fluff for a mere second, tbh I feel like it is funny at moments???

Once again, if you see any formatting/grammatical errors, please let me know!

Enjoy <3

———–

It had all been fun and games, it never really mattered, until it did.

It was no secret, to your family, your friends, and least of all you. You loved falling in love.

Bi-monthly, and sometimes depending on the circumstance, bi-weekly you waltzed into the Gryffindor common room with a new tale of budding romance to share with your friends. And they'd just look at you and smile,

"Ah, our (Y/N), ever the helpless romantic." they'd say, all the while you'd confirm their statements with a blush or grin.

It was harmless, innocent, you had made quite the reputation for yourself around Hogwarts.

Anyone who got involved with you knew your tendencies, that your heart could change pace like the seasons came and went. Each boy and girl you set your sights on was like a new game of chess for your dazzling beauty and quick wits to conquer.

Which, you knew in retrospect sounded terrible, but you also knew you were young, and that relationships and love should be something to explore, not something to hold you down.

Besides, it wasn't like they didn't mean anything to you, you felt heartbreak when it was said and done with. To you, the growth and rebirth that came with romance was something equally as beautiful as the summits and triumphs.

You had a sneaking suspicion, that if the Greeks and Romans were right about their gods, you had to have been under Aphrodite's watchful eye.

Coming up on your last year of Hogwarts, you had become unbeatable. You had captured so many suitors, there were even lingering rumors of Veela tainting your blood.

Of course, they were all false, though, you'd never tell anyone otherwise. Because, what fun would that be?

You had at least one crash-and-burn love story from every house to tell, it even got to the point that people were courting you with the intention of "taming" your rampage.

Never, had there been a crush you couldn't bounce back from, no matter how close to breaking you came, you never did.

That was until you just had to go and viciously fuck yourself over.

Your thoroughly used vinyl of La Vie en Rose echoed through your dorm room as it spun for what might've been the millionth time, lyrics serving as a cruel jab toward your current situation.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,

You hadn't meant for it turn to out this way. For the first time in your entire life, there you sat, face stuffed into your pillow, wishing to Merlin that your heart could just bleed out of your chest.

Maybe then, it wouldn't be something you'd have to deal with, and you could forget about the prospect of falling in love together.

Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche,

It wasn't too late at all, it was just after dinner, and the rest of your dorm mates had cleared to the common room to celebrate the winning quidditch match that had transpired hours earlier.

On any usual occasion, you'd been down there with them, curled up on the couch next to Lilly, Mary, or Marlene, sipping rum-infused butter beer in content.

Instead, you were curled up alone, bathed in the dim light of your bedside candle, shivering from the cold.

Your blanket had fallen half down your body nearly fifteen minutes ago, and yet, the last thing on your mind was pulling it back up.

Voila le portrait sans retouches,

You had made some lame excuse as to why you would be exempt from tonight's actives, claiming you wanted to brush up on your divination for the exam at the end of the week.

Everyone had bought it, too high on youthful excitement and laughter to stop once more and examine the dark circles under your eyes.

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens,

As you stuffed your face further into the cotton pillowcase, you desperately wished the ground would open up and take you somewhere dark and quiet. Somewhere you could forget that you existed, so you could stop feeling like such a horrible human being.

Your mind had been clouded with buzzing jumbled thoughts for what felt like hours, never ceasing to give you a moment to rest. You surely thought your ears would start bleeding from how hard you had been thinking all day.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras,

You had now reached a point, with your uniform discarded haphazardly on the floor, and the sleep shirt you garnered swallowing you whole, where your brain had become filled with white noise.

The only coherent thought you could form right now, was how the hell did I get here?

Il me parle l'a tout bas,

Which of course, led you back into a rabbit hole of memories.

Je vois,

la vie en rose...

The infirmary's visiting hours were long over, the only company you had to keep was the first year who had fallen out of a tree that was sleeping in the cot next to you.

You should've been fast asleep by now, but you couldn't bring yourself to count a single sheep.

You weren't there for any real injury, a prank the boys had pulled a few hours earlier had backfired, and you had gotten the brunt of their mistake.

What was supposed to be a "pimple-inducing glitter rocket" (you had no idea how they got so creative) headed straight for Severus Snape, was quickly dogged by the intended victim, and who else was so lucky to be standing a few feet behind him, but you?

After a quick potion, you were fine, but you felt a little nauseous from the drink, and a little woozy from all the excitement, so you decided to stay there for the night.

A decision you were vastly regretting, as it was coming up on midnight and you had absolutely nothing to do.

You had resorted to trying to write a letter to a boy you broke up with two days prior, he had left on quite a sour note, and truthfully you felt a bit awful for him.

It wasn't necessarily his fault, like many prior partners, you'd just grown uninterested. You figured you should at least leave him a note apologizing for the entire ordeal, even if it did get left in the bin.

That would've been great and all, only, you had no bloody idea what to write.

This had to have been the fourth page of parchment you had crumbled up and discarded next to you. With the thin sheet from the hospital bed drawn over you, you sat dumbfounded, cross-legged with a small, pink, dancing flame next to your quill.

You had started writing the beginning sentence, but then again, nothing came to mind after that. Your regularly admired face was scrunched up deep in thought, your nightgown slipping down one shoulder as you held the feather deep in concentration.

You re-read what you already had, and decided to just follow up with whatever came to mind. Perhaps, you were thinking too hard.

After much consideration, you began writing once more,

"I'm sorry I got bored of you-" scratch. Nope, that was dreadful, this was a lost cause, and you were wretched.

You huffed dismally, with no regard for the boy sleeping only a few feet away, and just as you prepared to snuff the light out, and try to achieve some shut-eye, you heard it.

You heard the door to the hospital wing slowly squeak open.

You paused, who would be coming in at this hour?

You turned to the small flame dancing on the candle seated next to you and snuffed it with a pinch before grabbing your wand which was next to it.

"Lumos." You whispered, as a small orb of light spouted from the end of your wand, you dragged the sheet off your form.

You looked around the hospital wing, from the dozing first year to the grand windows that lined both walls, and finally, to the door.

Though open, no one besides you and the boy seemed to be in the room.

But you were raised by wizards and were best friends with the most ruthless tricksters Hogwarts had ever seen, so you know better than to glance only at surface level.

Slowly, you turned and lowered your feet onto the cold stone floor.

As you tip-toed around your bed, eyes squinting and wand raised high, you spoke aloud.

"Who's there?" Apart from the echo of your voice, and the murmurs from the boy next to you who stirred slightly, silence.

You stepped forward a few more paces so that you were in the center of the room.

"Show yourself!" You spoke slightly louder and turned in all directions as if hoping to catch any movement.

Nothing.

You sighed, perhaps you were just a lunatic, and the door had blown open on its own. You turned to walk back to your bed, and just as you took one step, you were interrupted by what nearly made you shit yourself.

"Hello, dear."

A voice cut through the air next to you, and you screamed on pure instinct.

Well, you would've, if not for the hand shooting out of the darkness to cover your mouth. You swung your wand in the direction of your assailant and were met with a sight completely unexpected.

Remus Lupin's big brown eyes, illuminated by your wand stared back at you. Or rather, down at you.

The significantly taller boy was heaving, his ruffled oaky hair falling slightly in his face, which held an expression that suggested you had scared him. The light traced his scars, and his large, cut-covered hand closed around almost the whole bottom half of your face.

You couldn't help but think; how pretty Remus Lupin looked at that moment.

He gulped, a smile tugging at his lips as his expression shifted into one of slight amusement, "Alright love, I'm going to remove my hand now, and you are going to promise me you won't scream at us."

His voice was a soft whisper and reminded you of the rocky seashore you used to visit every summer with your parents when you were little.

It sent a shiver down your spine, had it always had that effect?

You then reconsidered his wording, Us? Your eyes shifted to his right, and there you were met with an even more surprising sight.

Sirius Black stood with one hand in his pocket, and the other clenching James Potter's invisibility cloak.

"Of course." You thought.

He stood with an air of relaxation like he always did. His annoyingly beautiful face was drawn in mirth, though far more sheening than Remus'.

His brows were raised, and his eyes regarded your appearance with what could only be described as mischief, as a feathery strand of his rebellious raven hair dipped between his eyes.

He winked at you after you had seemed to stare for a little too long, causing you to snap out of your bewilderment, and look back to Remus, who remained rooted in the same spot looking at you expectantly.

You nodded at him, holding his gaze, which seemed far too intense for a boy his age. For whatever reason, he nodded back.

He removed his hand, and just as he did, you swatted it away and stepped back.

"What in Merlin's name are you both doing here?! You scared the hell out of me!" You whisper-shouted at the pair. The two boys smiled youthfully at you in response.

Sirius finally swaggered forward, and past you, not refraining from brushing against you as he did. He turned and plopped down on your bed, discarding James' cloak next to him.

In his natural air of arrogance, he leaned back on his palms and lolled his head to the side, grinning up at you.

"We thought our girl could use some company, didn't we Moony?"

Against your better judgment, you rolled your eyes and swayed to look at Remus, who remained smiling down at you.

Annoyingly, a smile of your own made its way onto your face.

It was no secret that out of the group you, Sirius, and Remus were close in a way that the others weren't.

I mean, of course, the boys, and you and the girls would always be close in your respective ways, but for some reason, you three just seemed to click in a weird, and almost perfect way.

It wasn't like they called any other girl in the friend group "their girl", and it wasn't like you'd go through the animagus process for just anyone.

Remus bit his tongue, his eyes flickered from Sirius', and back to yours before he nodded once more.

Suddenly, he pulled his wand from his pocket and lit a candle on a bedside table across the room, so that your wand could be lowered and placed gingerly in the pocket of your nightgown.

As he returned his wand to his pocket all the same, he stepped forward and took both your hands in his own, swinging them back and forth idly, "Yeah, that and we wanted to apologize again for being the reason you're in here in the first place."

"Even though it was James' idea to begin with!" Sirius' voice beckoned from behind you.

Remus shot him a glare over your head before looking back down at you and rolling his eyes, swiping his thumb gently across the back of your hand, "Yes," he droned begrudgingly, "even though."

You bit your bottom lip while grinning in an attempt to conceal the laughter rising in your throat.

You released one of his hands, still gripping the other as you spun yourself around and face Sirius, who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed.

You couldn't help the content sigh that escaped your lips as you regarded the look of merriment and genuineness that graced Sirius' face.

You took turns looking between both boys before saying, "Consider yourselves forgiven, though I have a feeling that wasn't the only thing you came for."

"You'd be right to assume, Lovebug," Remus responded. Another thing, there wasn't a soul on the planet save for Remus and Sirius who called you Lovebug.

It was a title fashioned for your romantic tendencies, and it suited you quite well.

Sirius suddenly hopped to a stand, before taking his wand to poke the sleeping boy's foot ever so slightly, "We are taking you to the astronomy tower, to watch the crescent moon." He said nonchalantly, you scoffed in disbelief.

"Right now? But Sirius I'm in a bloody nightgown, not to mention barefoot, and all my things-"

You were cut off by Remus, whose arms had suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, "Relax darling, we'll have you back before the sun rises, maybe we'll even take your things and you back to the dorm where you belong."

You chuffed, "But-"

"As for the nightgown and lack of shoes, we can assure you, love, you look absolutely smashing in it, and have cute enough feet for it not to be too grotesque." Sirius winked.

You sighed and tried to ignore the light blush that settled across your cheeks, drowned out by the darkness.

You groaned petulantly like a child as you struggled to come up with a counterpoint, and leaned into Remus' lankily muscular build.

"C'mon Darling, it's your favorite moon cycle, and we know you must be bored to tears."

You froze as Remus' smooth voice resonated against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over you slightly.

It was then you became aware of just how dipped in his scent you were, it completely engulfed you, the smell of pinewood, candle wax, and parchment.

You cleared your throat, before Sirius interjected once more, "Evidently, by the literary devices she's turned to to cope."

Your eyes widened, as your headshot over to Sirius, who had now grabbed and held the parchment you had forgotten you left on your bed.

His hair created a curtain around his face as he leaned over to read it, still though you could make out the shit-eating grin on his face as he did so.

"Dear Callum, I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from at the moment, but I'm sorry I got bored of you-" He read aloud in a high-pitched voice before he broke down into laughter.

You wrenched out of Remus' hold before surging forward and snatching the paper from his hand and shoving him slightly.

"Give me that you oaf!" You hissed lowly.

He snicked and pulled you into a hug, "Oh come now, you know I'm only joking lovely, please don't leave me! I promise never to bore you!" He sang, you elbowed him in rebuttal.

"Alright, fine! FINE! I will go, will you stop it now?!" You snapped, his laughter eventually died down as he hummed and looked down at you.

You craned your neck to meet his gaze, "Ah, knew you'd come around Lovebug, right then off we go!" He announced before spinning you and setting you down on the ground.

You watched as he practically skipped over to Remus, before grabbing the boy by the jaw and pulling him into a simple kiss.

Yet another symbol of your closeness, you were one of the only ones who knew that the two were more than just friends.

Remus hummed before returning the kiss and pulling away.

Sirius leaned into his neck, "Told you she'd come around Moony."

Remus licked his lips and gave you a half-lidded once over, not even he could contain the dim beam that spread across his face.

"Course she did, she's our girl after all." He mused.

In an instant, the smile dropped from your face.

It was then, for the first time in a long time, you felt something. Like a punch in the gut, one that you knew familiarly, but not to this extent.

The air in your lungs seemed to leave you all at once, as a cold hotness spread over you.

Your vision began to tunnel, as your ears filled with wind, and you became all too aware of the sweat that coated your palms.

"No," you thought, "no way."

Your heartbeat quickened, and you desperately hoped that with Remus' advanced senses, he couldn't hear it.

There was no way this was happening, not to you, not right now.

It was such a simple sentence, one you were sure he and Sirius had uttered to you before, so why did it ignite this feeling in you?

Why, did you have to have such a reaction, and why now?

You wiped the sweat that sprouted from your palms on your nightgown and could feel some new form on the nape of your neck.

It felt as though the air of comfortability from earlier had evaporated, replaced with a thick blanket of awkwardness and anxiety, at least on your part.

The boys you had leaned into so carelessly before, had now become the two people you wanted to be furthest from.

You knew this feeling, you knew what it was, and normally, you'd welcome it like an old friend. But not this time, not for them.

Why, did it have to be them?

"(Y/N)" Sirius' question shook you from your state of silent panic. You blinked and swallowed a thick glob of your saliva.

"Yeah?" Your voice was far less even than it had been a second ago, it wavered and shook much without you meaning it to.

The boys looked at you with confusion drawn over their expressions, "You ready to go?" Remus said as if you were some dimwitted puppy.

Your eyelids flickered, and you took a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, must be the after-effects of the potion." You lied through your teeth.

They nodded at you, still seeming suspicious of your behavior but not questioning the matter further.

Each boy extended a hand, and you almost let out a shattered sigh as you slowly stepped forward and took each hand in your own.

As you three began walking to the door, and you plastered a smile on your face, you began to hear your voice screaming inside your head.

In an instant, you knew what you had done.

You'd just gone and fallen in love with two boys you knew you couldn't have.

That exchange had transpired a week ago, and ever since then, you'd been spiraling.

You felt hot tears gather in your eyes as you recounted it redundantly. In your mind, there were layers to how fucked up this was.

You can't like two people at once, that's utterly selfish. You berated yourself, especially since those two people are dating each other, not to mention two boys! Not to mention even more two boys that just so happen to be your best friends!

You groaned as you rubbed your temples, blinking back the tears.

Any logical, normal person would've taken the high road, and just silently waited until this infatuation passed.

But as you were reminded incessantly, you were the furthest from logical, or normal.

The longer you lingered with this knowledge, the more unbearable it became.

Every moment you spent trying not to think about Sirius or Remus, was another moment in which your little crush turned into a full-blown obsession.

At first, you had resigned to pretending as if nothing was amiss, forcing smiles and hoping they couldn't tell. But every day you felt your resolve weakening, and so as of today, you had completely avoided them at all costs.

Then, you just had to let your friends drag you to that stupid quidditch match.

You had managed to sit as far from Remus as possible and tried to push through through the awkwardness, which worked for awhile, and then the world had to go and give you another slap in the face.

After James had caught the snitch, you were dealt the misfortune of locking eyes with Sirius, who, high on excitement as he was, decided to beam at you, and blow you a fucking kiss.

Damn Sirius Black for being the natural flirt he was, and damn his stupidly perfect face.

You knew in hindsight it was just Sirius being Sirius, he was head over heels for Remus.

It's not like he knew how much he made your heart flutter from that simple act alone.

But the side effects of it were damning, and whilst you got by with averting eye contact and keeping to yourself for the walk back to the castle, you refused to risk a much more obvious reaction given the boys pull anything else.

You sighed, again, as you shut your eyes and listened to the last lyric that played from your vinyl.

Et, dès que je l'apercois, alors je sens en moiI, mon coeur qui bat...

You bit the inside of your cottoned mouth, and gulped sending a sting down your dry throat.

Your favorite song was beginning to sound like torture every time you translated its meaning in your head.

Yes, you thought bitterly, I see life through rose-colored glasses, and look where that's got me now.

Finally, you opened your eyes. God, your side of the dorm was a mess, Lily was going to kill you.

Not that it wouldn't be deserved, you shot at yourself.

With all the remaining strength in your body, you pushed yourself off your bed. The needle on your record player had finally reached the center of the vinyl, meaning it was time for you to get up and move it again.

As your feet landed on the cold floor, you winced, rolling your ankles to re-attune your body to movement.

After a moment you stood, not missing the blackness that pinched at your view from your lightheaded state. You began to walk across the room, ignoring the cries that sounded from your locked joints.

Your brain felt fuzzy, and your movements were reduced to emotionless and empty.

You stopped in front of the table on which your record player sat, and lifted a weak, trembling hand to the needle.

And as you picked up, and moved it to the edge, allowing the song to replay once more, you heard the startling sound of the door creaking open.

You didn't bother to look at her, instead, you closed your eyes and inhaled in preparation for what was to come.

"Godrick, (Y/N) the room's a mess, what have you been doing all this time?!"

Lily's maternal croon should've at least offered a morsel of comfort, and yet, all it did was cause more tears to sting the corners of your eyes.

Your ears filled with ocean sounds as Lily began to parade around the room, picking up all your discarded articles of clothing, too lost in her own ramblings to notice the air of gloom that hung over you.

You bit your lip as you shut your eyes tightly, trying desperately to keep any more tears from running freely down your rosy cheeks.

Lily had this way about her, she was too comforting, too emotion-invoking.

You wished she would've just stayed downstairs for one more hour, at least then you would've more had time to collect yourself.

But she didn't, she was here, and she was going to witness you in the state that you were; raw, terrified, and utterly humiliated.

Your mind had turned into a wind tunnel of thoughts and feelings, preventing you from noticing how Lily had halted her movements and slighted her gaze to your now shaking form.

"(Y/N)? Lovie? Are you alright?"

You opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling for one moment, teeth biting down harder on your trembling lip.

Finally, you turned and met her head-on.

Lily gasped in spite of herself, "Oh, Y/N." she whispered, brows stitched in worry, emerald eyes widening.

Before you could blink, she was on you. Lean arms enclosing your figure, one placed comfortingly behind your head, the other wrapped around your waist.

"Darling, what's happened?" Her soft voice resonated in your ear.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, burrowing your head in her shoulder, shaking it slightly.

Your arms had returned the embrace tenfold, hands grasping her sweater tightly like she was the only thing in the universe holding you together at that moment.

Before you could stop yourself, soft hiccups began to escape you, and it was then, as Lily pulled away and began to wipe at the wetness under your eyes, you realized, you had to tell her.

You allowed yourself to be guided to her side of the room and sat down on her plush, quilted bed.

Blinking through tears you tried to focus on Lilly's concerned face, as she pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and took your hand.

"Y/N, please, tell me what's the matter." Lily begged quietly as she smoothed her thumb over the back of your hand.

The moonlight from the window above her bed was nearly the only thing that illuminated the space around you, sheening on your variability, and exposing your flaws.

Your eyes flickered as you took a deep breath and attempted to collect your thoughts, and organize them into something, anything, clear enough to be spoken aloud.

"I..." Your voice quietly resonated, coarse and croaky from hours of wailing and weeping. You fought against the tightness in your throat, encouraged by Lily's soft eyes, and comforting presence.

After a moment, you cleared your throat and tried again.

You began with a sigh, focusing on the way Lily smelled of vanilla, allowing her scent to calm your flurrying mind.

"Lily," you said, much quieter this time, "I've done something terrible."

Lily's brows furrowed once more, in confusion this time. "What can you mean?" she replied, ever inquisitive and eager.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, here it goes.

You gripped her hand like it was your lifeline, "I've..." you paused.

"I've fallen in love again."

Quiet settled over the room, blanketing the two girls.

Lily blinked, face going blank.

Before she could stop herself, a snort escaped from her mouth. Her demeanor of worry was now replaced with one of disbelief and wry amusement.

"You must be joking, seriously (Y/N)? That's all this is about? another silly little fling?" She teased, now finding this entire situation utterly ironic.

You huffed, frustration becoming your face. "No," You interjected, voice strained and tight.

"It's not- God, it's not that I've fallen in love again, it's with who!"

Lily raised a brow, squinting, lip quirking. "Right then," she teased, "Tell me, who is the soul lucky enough to hold your affections?"

You were glaring and lifting yourself off the bed in an instant. Bitterness bitting at your tongue.

"Forget it." You bit.

Lily sighed and grasped your hand before you could get even two steps. "(Y/N)," she groaned in defeat, feeling instant guilt as more tears glided down your chin.

"I'm sorry, that was cruel of me. You can tell me, and I won't make fun of you."

You eyed the redhead suspiciously, "Promise?" You quipped. Lily smiled, "Promise."

You bit the inside of your cheek and returned to your spot on the bed.

You huffed and picked away at some of the skin around your fingernails anxiously. "You really promise not to judge?" you mumbled, looking up at her through your wet lashes.

Lily nodded, "I promise lovie, you can tell me." her smile was the reassurance you needed, but it didn't lessen the ache in your heart.

You shut your eyes, annoyed at the feeling of more tears gushing down your neck.

You covered your face in your palms, before admitting out loud the confession you'd been reckoning with for days.

"I fucked up," you said through tears as you lifted your eyes to meet Lily's, "I've fallen in love with Remus Lupin," you watched Lily's eyes turn into saucers, "And, Sirius fucking Black."

In any other situation, you would've laughed at how Lily's jaw fell open, but this was no laughing matter. Her hand flew to hover above her mouth, and for the first time in all that you've known her, Lily Evans had been rendered speechless.

And you, were growing more anxious by the moment. Tears were now fully cascading down your face, sobs and hiccups wrenching from your throat.

"Say something!" You begged, her silence was making you feel worse by the second.

Lily jumped, broken out of her state of shock. She closed and open her mouth, trying to find the right words, before she so eloquently settled on,

"Merlin's fuck, (Y/N)."

You cried harder if that was even possible.

"I know, I know, it's horrible isn't it?" You whined.

After a week of keeping this all bottled up, it was now all coming crashing down on you.

You felt your heart ripping at the seams, in such a short period of time, these boys had suddenly had the most magnifying attraction you had felt.

You felt so utterly stupid, had you always liked them? Did it just so happen that that fateful night was your moment of realization?

Either way, neither explanation lessened your suffocating distress.

As you let your head fall into your hands, Lily grabbed your shoulders, rubbing them up and down encouragingly.

"Well, I won't lie to you sweetheart, it doesn't look amazing." She winced, resolving to pull your sobbing body to hers, wrapping her arms around you once more.

Lily knew the weight of this situation, because she knew Remus and Sirius, more especially, the relationship the two shared.

"When did you find this out?" She asked softly.

You sniffed, "A week ago, I think? Oh Merlin, maybe I've always known but was never ready to admit it to myself."

Lily sighed thoughtfully, before replying. "Well, do you want to tell them?"

You thought for a moment, before shaking your head in defeat.

"It's no use Lils, even in my wildest dreams, they're out of my reach. I can't have them, and the fact that I even want them makes me feel like the biggest arsehole in the world."

Lily stayed quiet as you continued your rant, allowing you to verbalize all the feelings that had been festering in your heart.

"Godrick, they're so perfect for each other, it's almost unreal. You've seen them together, they look as if they were made for each other. Not only that, but they fought so hard for the right to be together. And who the hell am I to come in here and even consider ruining that? I must be the most selfish girl in the world."

You felt your heart break a little more with each word, but you couldn't stop yourself, you had to let these thoughts surface.

"They trusted me," you sobbed, "every deep, grimy secret that they had no obligation to share, they trusted me enough to tell. All they've ever wanted from me was a friend, someone to be their home, and now I've gone and ruined it."

"You don't know that-" Lily tried, but you interrupted before she could even finish the sentence.

"Yes, I do! You know how I get Lily, even about simple crushes they become all I can think about. I will not be able to stop thinking about them, and every single time they feel comfortable enough to be affectionate in front of me, I'll break all over again."

Finally, you paused and took a deep breath.

"There is absolutely no situation in which this can turn out alright for me."

Lily felt her heartache for you as she assessed the sheer pain in your voice.

However, this situation was difficult, because she had to consider Remus and Sirius' well-being too.

She tapped a finger on the bare skin of your arm. "You know what I think?" She finally said.

You lifted your head and met her calculating eyes with your own. "What?" you asked pathetically.

Lily rotated her jaw, "I think, that this situation is much bigger than you or I, so before we go making blind assumptions, we need to let Remus and Sirius speak for themselves."

She paused, "(Y/N), I know you're scared, but you have to tell them."

You inhaled deeply, eyes flickering with fear.

You were scared, terrified actually. But, the more you thought about it, the more you realized what you had known all this time.

Lily was right, they needed to know.

You couldn't just disappear from their lives without giving them a floor to speak their peace, it wasn't right.

Doing that, you decided, would truly be the cruelest thing you could possibly do.

You huffed, before blinking away the last of your tears and taking a moment to wipe the mess off your face.

Lily sat and watched you as you began to collect yourself, leaning on her own arm for support.

After a moment, when you felt as though you were moderately put together, you shook your hands out and breathed deeply for that last time.

You looked to Lily, there were still a million questions you wished could be answered, but for tonight, as you checked the clock and saw it was coming up on 1:00 A.M., you settled for just one.

"Do you think they realize I've been avoiding them?" You cringed.

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"(Y/N) (L/N), you open this door right now, or so help me Merlin, I will blow it down!" Sirius' muffled yell sounded from the other side of the aged wood.

Then, Remus chimed in. "You know he'll do it love, so there's no use in fighting."

You froze, and for a moment as Lily's expression turned into that of a deer in headlights, you thought maybe the whole universe froze with you.

Your blood ran cold as they continued raving about their usual nonsense, and as you saw the door handle rattle, you and Lily finally spoke in unison.

"Oh, fuck."

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