#self-hate tw

     It was simple, really. Get the key from his dog, and you won his hand. It was almost too simple. After he explained the rules, he went inside his house, and no one had seen him since. However, a dark brown dog popped up, a silver key dangling from his light blue collar, and everyone knew at once that he was Patton’s.

     Logan continued to observe from afar, studying the dog’s behavior so he could formulate a good plan. He let everyone else do the hard work for him, chasing the dog, trying to catch him or bribe him, and generally terrorizing the poor creature.

     It was two weeks after the competition began that Logan finally had his realization. This was Patton’s dog. Surely he could be befriended? Throwing his plan out of the window, he visited Patton’s house, where the dog spent most of his time.

     He sat on the lawn and let his mind simply wander while he waited for the dog. He was pulled back to reality by a quiet growling behind him. He turned and found a dark brown dog standing there, lowered to the ground with his ears pressed against his head. Now that he was close, he recognized him as a labrador retriever. The silver key hung from his collar still, and he felt relieved that it hadn’t been taken yet.

     "Shhh,“ he found himself whispering as he held his hand out for the dog to sniff. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

     The dog stared at him with a mistrustful eye, which he decided was fair, considering how the rest of the townspeople had been treating him.

     "It’s okay,“ he continued. “You’re okay, I won’t hurt you. I’m here all on my own. Nobody is going to hurt you while I’m here, I promise.”

     Finally, the dog took a careful step forward and sniffed at his hand. Logan flashed him a small smile that was reserved for very few people.

     "May I pet you?“ he asked. The dog jumped back, and he figured that was a no. He pulled his hand back and laid on the grass so that he could look at the clouds.

     The day passed by in a blur of comfortable silences and quiet whispers as Logan simply coexisted with the dog. Night fell eventually, and he decided it was time to go home. He came back the next day, and the next, and every day after that. He grew closer to the dog every day, and he couldn’t help but feel happy when he thought of him.

     Two more weeks had passed and Logan had truly gained the dog’s trust. He turned out to be very affectionate, if the way he was currently laying with his head on Logan’s chest was any indication. This was one of many opportunities Logan had had to simply take the key, but it, like all his other chances, didn’t feel quite right.

     "I wonder sometimes…” he began quietly. His petting slowed and the dog raised his head to look at him. “Do you think Patton would be disappointed if I somehow ended up winning this?” He laughed humorlessly. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame him. I never had the courage to approach him before, and there are so many better choices than me. Why wouldn’t he be dis-?”

     A cold nose nudged at his hand, cutting him off. He looked down and saw the dog looking at him with worried eyes. He pressed a paw to his lips and Logan gave a slight smile in response. He gently moved the paw away.

    "Okay. No more self-deprecating talk like that,“ he agreed. The dog barked happily, and he started petting him again.

     A few days later, Logan was on his way to Patton’s house when a dark brown blur skittered past him. He turned towards it and was promptly knocked over as someone else sped past him. He quickly realized that someone was chasing the dog yet again, and he pushed himself to his feet to chase after them. Far too soon, the woman ahead of him caught the dog, and she wrestled a muzzle onto his face and a leash on his collar. Logan could hear his terrified whimpers even from where he was, and that only spurred him on faster. She reached for the key dangling from his collar and the dog barked and growled at her, struggling against his restraints and trying to keep her from it. She hit his head sharply and he whined, changing tactics to just trying to make himself as small as possible. She reached for the key once more just as Logan caught up. He caught her wrist in an iron grip.

     "He has made it quite clear that he does not want you taking the key,” he said, voice low and cold with anger. He pulled harshly on her arm and she stumbled back. The leash slipped out of her grasp and Logan took a protective stance in front of the dog while he still had the chance. He glanced back at the dog and saw he was wagging his tail, and a small smile crossed his face.

     ”How dare you!!“ the woman screeched, having pulled herself to her feet. Logan looked forward again, smile fading, and was met with her pulling her fist back. Logan quickly crossed his arms in front of his face, and the blow connected sharply with his arm. He hissed quietly.

     "No, how dare you,” he retorted. He uncrossed his arms and glared at her. “Imagine what Patton would say if he knew how you had treated his dog. He would be horrified, upset, and angry, and most importantly, he would not want you.”

     She let out a wordless scream of rage and hit him again. Logan wasn’t able to block it and his glasses went flying. The dog barked, sounding worried, and he muttered a few reassuring words before focusing back on the woman. She shook her fist and he couldn’t help the small smirk that crossed his face. It would hurt hitting metal that hard, wouldn’t it, he thought.

     "What, and he would want YOU?! Because I can tell you right now, he wouldn’t!“ Her voice was shrill now, and Logan winced.

     "I never said he would,” he replied calmly. “Frankly, I agree with you. All I am saying is that he would not want someone so needlessly cruel as you.” He turned away from her and knelt down to the dog. He unclipped the leash and was halfway through undoing the muzzle when he felt the merciless kick to his back. He cried out, but resolutely paid her no mind as he finished undoing the muzzle. Once free, the dog ran around in a small circle and barked at him, tail wagging. He smiled at him, enjoying how excited and happy he was. He got up to confront the woman again and was met with a curious sight.

     Remus was there now, holding the woman securely as she thrashed about, spitting insults and curses.

     "Thank you, Remus,“ he said after a beat, pleasantly surprised.

     "Don’t thank me yet,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Just get the dog out of here!”

     He nodded and turned back towards the dog, who was sitting patiently. He looked up at Logan, and though it may have just been his imagination, he could swear there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He stood up and bowed his head to Logan, who looked down at him in confusion.

     "What is it?“ he asked. The dog barked at him and rolled onto his back. He stretched his neck out, exposing the key.

     "You.. want me to take it?” he asked slowly. The dog barked and began wagging his tail, and he figured that was a yes.

     "Can it wait until you’re safe?!“ Remus shouted, and the dog barked once more, refusing to budge. The woman wasn’t fighting as hard now, more focused on what was happening, but she was definitely still struggling.

     "He seems pretty insistent, Remus,” he pointed out. Remus sighed loudly and shifted to resecure his grip. Logan knelt down once more and took the key. A blinding flash of sky blue light filled the air. Once the spots dancing in his vision had cleared, Logan found himself looking up at a very familiar man.

     Patton.

     He sucked in a breath and scrambled to his feet, looking at the ground as his shyness took over. He suddenly noticed the dog was gone, and it clicked.

     "Wait..“ he said, finally looking at Patton. “You’re the dog?” The other nodded, clapping excitedly as a beautiful smile crossed his face.

     "Congratulations, Logan! You’ve won my competition.“ He sounded truly happy about this, and Logan couldn’t nor wouldn’t stop the smile that formed. Patton stepped forward, his hand coming to rest on Logan’s cheek. He leaned in, and Logan found himself leaning in with him.

     Soft lips met his, and he melted completely into the kiss. He tuned out the rest of the world. Nothing else existed to him in that moment but Patton. The other pulled back after a moment, giggling quietly. Logan decided it was objectively the most beautiful sound in the world.

     A shriek of rage ripped through the air, forcing them back to reality. Logan spun around in time to see the woman rip herself out of Remus’s grasp and run at him. He flinched back harshly and tensed up, bracing himself for the impact… but it never came. He cracked open an eye and saw Patton holding her wrist as she stared at him in horror.

     "Do. Not. Touch. Him,” Patton said lowly.

     "Patton!!“ she cried, pulling back. He let go. “I-I-I never would have done anything if I had known!!”

     "Exactly,“ he agreed, clasping his hands behind his back. “There’s a reason I hosted this competition. Everyone always shows their best face around me, because they want me to love them. I did this because I needed to see everyone’s true colors. And ma'am, pardon my rudeness, but your colors are truly ugly.”

     "Vibe check,“ Logan muttered, and Remus snickered.

     "Logan was the only one who consistently treated me with respect,” he continued. “He was the first to try. Others tried, too, after seeing how well it worked for him, but they grew impatient. He did not. That is why I gave him the key.

     "Now. Leave us alone. As is, I already have to report your actions to the authorities. Don’t make it worse for yourself,” he finished.

All was quiet for a long, agonizing moment.

     "Tch. Fine,“ she grumbled, breaking the silence. She finally walked away.

     Patton turned to Logan once more and threw his arms around him in a tight hug. He sighed softly and returned the embrace. He felt something being pressed in his hand and he looked over Patton’s shoulder at Remus, who mouthed ‘Glasses’. He nodded, slipping them on his face as Patton pulled away, smiling softly. As he leaned in for a kiss, Logan couldn’t help but think that maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

~

To think that Remus believed things were going better: before moving to Grimmauld Place, while they were staying at his cottage, Remus had seen him slowly turning into his old self - even if for a short amount of time. Has he been too optimistic? 

"Sirius, it's me. Can I come in?" he asks, after a couple of knocks. The only sound from the other side of the door is the one Buckbeak's feathers make when the hippogriff moves. The werewolf waits for a couple of seconds before barging in. 

The first thing he sees is Buckbeak, resting its head on the ground with closed eyes. As soon as Remus tries to take a step in, the hippogriff turns to look at him sleepily. Remus bows and waits for the beast to do the same before walking into the room: he notices right away the large black dog curled up on himself against Buckbeak’s resting body, eyes closed, coat matted - the stench coming from them is awful, making Remus hate his own sensitive nose.

Nonetheless, he walks up to him and crouches down to caress the dog on his head, scratching lightly behind the ear. “Pads, I know that you're probably not in the mood, but can you please turn back? It’s been a week since I last saw you — can we talk?”

Padfoot opens slowly one of his eyes and looks back for a bit, before closing it again. For a moment, Remus thinks that he is going to remain in his canine form, but then the dog stands up and morphs right into a man. A sigh finds its way up his throat as he watches Sirius bring his knees to his chest, face pointed down - his dirty hair is covering the cheek on Remus’ side and the ex Professor just wants to tuck it behind his ear to get a glimpse of the other’s expression.

“I heard you’re refusing to eat” he whispers, sitting down beside him, trying to sound as comforting as he can.

“That fucking house elf is trying to poison me,” Sirius’ croaked reply comes after a beat - his throat might be dry. “I swear I heard him say so.”

“Well, I know that Molly is doing the cooking nowadays. I don’t think she would poison you.”

The animagus lets out a bitter chuckle, hugging his own knees to himself. “She might as well be. She hates me just as much.”

“Pads, I’m sure Molly doesn’t hate you.”

“She thinks Harry’s life can be so much better without me — says I’m not a good example, thinks I’m not fit to take care of him,” Sirius sniffles as he says it, making Remus’ heart break a little.

He reaches out to finally tuck away that hair, giving his expression a long look. “Since when do you care about Molly Weasley’s opinion?” 

Sirius closes his eyes, but bends his head back. “She’s important for Harry — she’s been his only positive parental figure for the last four years,”  he says, voice trembling. “and I — What am I for him, Moony? What am I for the people staying here? Who am I for you?” Remus can see the pain behind his old friend’s eyes as he stares at him - they may seem empty to someone who doesn’t know him, but the werewolf still knows how to read them. “I’m the reason he didn’t get to grow up with his parents — if it wasn’t for me, I —”

“Pads, you  know that’s —”

“You know, I can go and blame that rat all I want but in the end  — in the end it’s all my fault,” his eyebrows are scrunched up together, his lower lip shakes a little. "I'm the one who suggested that wretched idea. I'm the one who went after Peter instead of staying back for Harry" his hands are shaking, his eyes are shining. "Do you know, Moony, that staying in this damned house reminds me how much of a failure I am?" he asks. "Do you know that I can't stand staying in my room because those fucking posters are a reminder of all the summers I spent with James?" 

Remus has to swallow to get the burning in his chest to stay there, not allowing it to reach his throat and swell up his eyes. "I'm going to tell you this again, until you understand the point" he speaks, voice as soft as he can. "You couldn't know how it would have gone  — you couldn't foresee it." 

Sirius is staring at the ceiling, now, and he knows he is trying to block out his voice. Remus has done it too: every time someone has been trying to talk him out of the guilt, the disgust and the hate he feels for himself, the werewolf has shut them out. As much as it makes him look like a hypocrite, he can’t let Sirius do the same. He needs him to understand, he has to get into that thick head how much important he is - after all, Sirius is all Remus and Harry have left of what could have been if there hadn’t been a war in the way, and Remus needs Sirius to understand how much they care. 

How much he cares.

Remus sighs and changes position, so that he is now kneeling in front of Sirius  - the movement makes his joins hurt a bit, a reminder of both the past full moon and his age. He brings his hands on the animagus’ knees (he really has to get him to eat: that month at his cottage has done nothing to help fill him up), pushes his head a bit forward and tries to catch his eyes. “Hey, Pads, you can’t keep losing your mind wondering how it could have been if something had changed. Do you want to know who you are for Harry?” he asks, patting one of his knees to make him look down. “You’re his godfather — the only thing close to a family he has left. Harry has loved you since he found out the truth. Didn’t you say he was happy when you asked him to live with you?”  Sirius’ mouth twitches a bit at this, his eyes look distant - as if he is reliving that moment. 

“He doesn’t know me,” the animagus replies, voice quiet. “What if Molly’s right? What if I’ll spend every day expecting him to be just like James? What if I’ll put that pressure on him? I know how hard it is to live under certain expectations — I know what comes from fucking up them. I don’t want my stupid, tangled memories to burden him. I —”

Remus raises an eyebrow at that, wondering what kind of things Molly has said to him. He knows she feels like Harry’s mother, and that probably she has his best interest in her mind, but does she really have the right to make Sirius feel like this? Although, she may have just the guilt of saying out loud the things Sirius fears the most about the whole thing. “Do you remember why  James chose you to be the godfather? Dogfather’s joke aside.” 

At that, Sirius closes his eyes, squeezing them in pain - the very same one torturing him. For a moment, Remus feels like a right arsehole before he realises he has to go on. He has to take Sirius slightly out of these thoughts - enough to make him eat, enough not to let him neglect himself. 

“Because he knew that you would have been able to take care of Harry.”

Sirius shakes his head briefly, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. "Just because you would have been in the picture."

"That might have been why Lily agreed" Remus attempts to joke, meeting his eyes when the other opens them. "But James —" and he smiles a bit, without ending the sentence, because it feels kind of self-explanatory. 

Sirius' hand twitches in his, making him hold it tighter. "I miss him" he says under his breath, voice breaking a little. "I miss him, Rem. I miss him so much," he croaks out. "It feels like yesterday for me — their…" he swallows. 

"I know, love" that word comes out of Remus' mouth before he can stop it. He freezes a little, eyes locked with the animagus' ones, watching each other in confusion. "— I miss him too" he adds after a while, clearing out his voice. 

They haven't talked about that, not even when they were alone at Remus'. Harry has been the topic of every conversation, mixed up with some memories with which Sirius needed help to restore, and some theories about what would happen in the next months. They've always been shit at talking out their feelings, James was the only one of their little group who was comfortable with talking out feelings, showing his love loudly. The two of them have always dealt with some kind of miscommunication - having Lily and James helped them get the courage to talk about how they felt and get together, all those years ago. 

Remus watches as Sirius' face colours a little, it isn't really that evident, but it reminds him that it has been a while since the animagus has heard that word directed at him. It's the same for him, really, but being locked up in here makes Sirius' needs for affection more urgent. Then, he leans forward a bit more and cups Sirius' face in his hands, gently, trying not to scare him off. "Love, what did we say the first day we came here?" 

The animagus' grey eyes bore into his, as if trying to understand whether or not the use of that word is intentional. "We will trust each other no matter what." 

"Can you trust me on what I'm saying?" 

"It's — we were talking about the war."

"We were talking about us not falling into another stupid plot that could lead to one of our deaths" Remus says, every word pronounced carefully. "This — I can't let you go on like this" he lets his thumbs caress the other man's cheekbones. "Do you want me to bring the war into the discourse? Because I can." 

Sirius just stares at him, and Remus feels a little bit relieved to see that old flame burn at the back of his pupil. "You can't keep Harry safe if you don't take care of yourself; you can't fight if you can't walk without blacking out" he sighs. "And honestly, love, Kreacher can't poison you — you know that. No matter how much he wishes to do you any physical harm, he is still bound to you. He isn't allowed to," he reminds him, and Sirius looks down for a moment. "He can still get into your head, making you want to starve yourself so that you don't have to deal with his shitty cooking" Remus concedes, keeping on stroking his cheeks. "Are you really going to give into his wishes? Are you going to let him catch the snitch?" 

Sirius scoffs, looking slightly miffed. "I hate when you do this — you know I can't let this kind of bait go."

"I know: you're so easy to provoke" the ex Professor jokes, a little smile stretching his lips. 

The animagus brings his hands to close around the other’s wrists. "I'm a dragon's shit." 

"Must be why you're still so hot" a beat. "— hot-headed." 

"Nice save." 

"Thank you, I'm proud of it." 

"Although, I don't think I look that good anymore."

"You just need a nice bath and a few meals," Remus says, trying to sound reassuring. "C'mon, let me lend a hand and feed you up." 

Sirius' lips stretch into a sincere smile - it doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it is a beginning. "Merlin, Moons, it sounds dirty." 

The werewolf raises his eyebrows, feeling the man's thumbs caress the inside of his wrists. "It doesn't. I was completely innocent."

"In wanting to feed me up."

Something seems to burn in his stomach as laughter tickles his throat. "I didn't mean it like that," 

"Sure you didn't, sweetheart."

And just like that they're bursting out laughing, sounding a bit crazy from the outside. Remus frees his own hands in between chuckles and hugs him, holding Sirius tight as the laughter washes out, leaving only their trembling bodies. The fact that he can laugh doesn't mean Sirius is better: he knows this, because for him it's just the same. However, he can't help but light up a bit at that reaction. 

"You didn't reply, you know?" Sirius' voice is so low against his shoulder, that Remus can't hear him the first time. "You didn't answer."

Who am I for you? 

The ex Professor takes a moment before deciding what to reply. There isn't a straight answer to that question, Sirius is so many things to him - so many happy memories, so many regrets, so many faults. Sirius is all and nothing, the light and the dark. Most of all, Sirius is love. 

Because despite everything, despite the things he used to believe about him (his faults), Remus has loved him since the beginning and has never stopped. 

"You're Sirius. You're Sirius for me" he says, caressing his back. "Someone I dearly missed, someone I cherish" his voice is too low, yes, but Sirius' got those sensitive ears - a sob comes out of thin air and Remus doesn't know who let it out. "Someone I love" and both their breathings sound wet, now that he has said it. He feels his own shoulders shake. “I — I can’t lose you too, Pads. I’m trying to make you focus on what Harry needs, because if I —” he has to swallow down a sob. “If I pause to think about what you mean to me, I — fuck, we shouldn’t have this conversation on the floor of  your mother’s bedroom with a hippogriff at our side.”

“A hundred fifty-six,” Sirius sighs out right away, making Remus freeze on the spot.

“What?”

“I said that I took count, when you let me spend the full moon with you again” the animagus clarifies. “I never told you how much that number weighed on me.”

Remus moved away enough to look at him in the face: Sirius’ eyes were shining, his left cheek flushed where it was pressed against his shoulder a second ago. His breathing is laboured, letting him know he feels as constricted as Remus. “A hundred fifty-six” he repeats. It’s not as if he has ever taken count of how many full moons he survives - it kind of feels like a countdown to his death. 

“In twelve years.”

There is a strange silence right now - Remus can feel something pass within them, can understand the meaning behind that number. Sirius’ words are as cryptic as ever, but he has learnt what they are supposed to sound like. 

A single tear rolls off Sirius’ eye, sliding down the still red cheek, going straight to the jaw and it looks so beautiful that he can’t help but think his mind is a little fucked up.

Remus takes a deep breath and then stands up, leaving the other man to follow his movements in surprise. “We need to talk,” he says, feeling his legs hurt from the position he was in. “But you need to clean up, eat, and sleep first. If a hundred fifty-six matters, then you can do something about it by taking care of yourself” he holds out his hand to the animagus to help him stand up.

Sirius looks at it - in his eyes the phantom of an inner debate. “You need a bath too” he says as he finally takes his hand, standing up a bit unsteadily. “I don’t know where you have been, but you smell bad.”

His grey eyes are shining in a way that reminds Remus of the old days and his heart misses a beat - he knows he is fooling himself, he just wants to believe that what has happened in the last half hour is enough for Sirius to be fine. “I will take a shower after you do” he promises. 

“And you need to eat too.”

“I will eat with you.”

“And sleep, you need to sleep.”

Pushing herself away from the door, Lori strides into the living room and picks up her book from the chair she was sitting in earlier.  Another book club meeting, another book finished.  Chewing on her lip, she makes her way over to the small makeshift library in the back room and stands in front of the bookshelf.  Finding an open spot, Lori slips the book onto the completed reading section she’d created a few weeks ago before she heads back out to the kitchen.

For a moment, her hands fall to her hips as she dips her head in silence.  This house is too quiet with her boy at a sleepover, it was too lonely with her husband at work.  Even though she’d spent a few hours with the bookclub weekly, today just seemed a little different.  And maybe that was because Carl wasn’t home for the next few days, well whatever the reason, she felt so alone.

But she knows she needs to snap out of it.  Earthy hues take a glimpse toward the teapot on the stove, more specifically the flame, the water still wasn’t boiling.  Scraping her teeth against her lower lip, Lori shuts the water and decides to head toward the master bathroom for a shower instead.  This would be her second shower for the day.

Closing the door behind her, Lori shuffles to the shower and turns the water on.  Slipping out of her day dress and undergarments, the housewife sticks her hand into the water to test the temperature.  It’s still too cold for her liking.  Twisting the knob, she puts it hotter as she reaches up and lets her hair down from the bun she’s had it in since this morning.  And finally, she steps into the shower and shuts herself in the stall.

Stepping under the hot water feels embracing, like she’s not alone in this moment.  Even though she knows herself that it’s a pathetic way of thinking.

But a surge of heartache sweeps over her and she feels herself pressing a hand to the surface of the tile wall as she tries hard to keep her composure , to not cry and keep it all bottled in like she’s used to doing for the past few years.  Carl was eight already, he was getting older and so was she and yet she felt with every fiber of her being that no matter what she did, she was the one being punished.  God was being cruel to her, and Lori couldn’t figure out why.  Was it because she wasn’t the best wife or mother?  Was it because she didn’t always help a person in need right away?  Or was it just because of who she was as a person?

Tears spill from her eyes in that moment, a sob breaking through her wet lips as she reaches up to quickly wipe them away.  Deep down, she knows she’s falling apart, she knows she’s on the verge of possibly being prescribed anti-depressants to be on for the rest of her life, but she’s fighting with everything in her to stay strong.  She herself felt like a light switch, her moods changing at the flip of a switch on instant, without any warning and she hated it.

She feels her chest squeeze tighter from the sob she’s holding back, the burning in her throat of the tears she’s trying so hard to hide from herself, and the weakness in her knees as she tries to keep herself standing against the wall.  It’s all coming in like a wave, the riptide wanting to pull her in and it’s just going to take her with it if she keeps on fighting it.  But this is her burden to handle, not Rick’s or her parents, or any of her prying friends.  She, herself needed to fight this battle alone.

“Of all truths I have tried to face, that is the one I have refused to accept. And it rings most true. But I suppose I can’t ignore that fact any longer. The fact that I have caused just as much pain as the man everyone damns. That I have been just as selfish and self-serving, destroying and leaving everything to the wolves....or should I say wolf?”

She was suddenly behind Allisae, speaking softly---tauntingly--into her ear.

“So many lives could have been spared, but instead I let him eat his fill so I could have my fill of him. I never tried hard for my children at all because I only ever cared about the man I wasn’t enough to save. Then I just...moved on. He loved me with everything he had and I just left him to be a memory. And you know what? There is nothing I can do for Jophiel, either. Not that it matters. After he’s long gone, I’ll probably ruin Tahariel and move on to the next fool willing to give me attention.”

“Stop....defeating yourself...that’s not true.” Allisae’s voice was weak. Barely a whisper.

And the mirror image of her laughed. A cold sound. And then she continued. “All I ever cared about was being loved and because of that I sucked the life out of everyone around me. I killed everything around me. I killed my children---”

She doesn’t know how or when Damian’s dagger ended up in her hand, but it was there and the other end of the blade was buried deep in her mirror’s heart. Over and over. Allisae’s fingers found themselves carving out her own eyes. Scratching up her face. 

“Just die! Die! You broken whore! You have taken enough from everyone! No matter what you do you will never deserve the love they give you! You have nothing to offer anyone!”

She’d dug out her own heart and ripped the useless thing thing to shreds, barehanded. The dagger was taken in hand once more and she continued to mutilate her own image until she was nothing but a pool of blood and a carved up carcass. It’s what she should have been all this time. Dead. And left to rot, no peaceful death. No way to be laid all prettily in a coffin. She didn’t deserve the decency of a peaceful death. There was nothing peaceful about her existence. Nothing beautiful. She cannot make up for what she’s done. As hard as she tries. She cannot!

“You are no goddess of life when everything around you dies. You kill everything. So just die!

“Just...”

“...DIE!”