#because i thought i would be dead. something would kill me or I'd kill myself. but i always had a feeling i would die in my early 20's

[burger-goblin]

.

[lanadelnegan]

Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.

Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.

Our Little Cabin

Dead City!Negan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth

A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.

"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.

He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.

"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."

"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.

Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.

I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.

"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.

Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.

I shrug. "Just thinkin'."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.

"That's not true."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"

"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."

We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.

I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.

"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."

"Like?"

"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.

"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.

"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.

He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.

I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.

"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.

"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"

"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."

"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."

"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."

"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.

"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.

"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.

"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.

"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."

"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.

He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.

I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.

I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.

"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.

"Oh my god, can you knock?!"

"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.

I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.

"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.

"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.

He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.

The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."

I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.

My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.

I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."

He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."

"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.

"I can't, baby."

"But you like watching me, don't you?"

I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.

"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?

I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.

Negan's POV:

That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.

She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.

I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.

She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.

I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.

My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."

I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.

"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.

I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.

Y/n's POV:

I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.

"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.

"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.

He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

My cheeks redden. "Nope."

"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."

I stay silent, pretending to read my book.

"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."

I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.

"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."

He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.

"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.

A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."

I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."

His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."

He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.

One month later...

My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.

I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.

I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.

I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.

I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.

I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.

After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.

"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.

"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."

"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."

He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.

Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.

"Negan...?" I say softly.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."

a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.

He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.

"Go to fucking sleep."

I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.

"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.

I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

"Touch me?"

"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."

"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.

"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.

"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.

"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.

"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."

"Like what?"

"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."

"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."

He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.

"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.

"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.

His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.

I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.

As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.

"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."

"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.

"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."

He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."

I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.

"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.

"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."

He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.

His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.

I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.

"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"

I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.

He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."

He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"

I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."

He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.

"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."

"I'm already yours."

That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.

"Tell me to stop, baby."

"No, keep going. Please." I beg.

He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.

"So fucking tight baby."

He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.

"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."

I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.

"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.

After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.

"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.

"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.

"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."

He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."

The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.

We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.

I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.

BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.

"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"

I smile against his chest. "...No."

The End.

Brb, going to take an ice bath.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?

Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide

I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.

From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.

I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.

About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.

The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.

After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.

My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.

Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.

Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.

It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.

Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.

(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)

I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.

The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.

@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) to think deeply about something

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

All rights reserved to their original publishers.

Now playing: Long Way From Home by The Lumineers

Chapter One: Forks, Washington

     Moving from Jacksonville, Florida, to the rainiest place in the continental U.S. wasn't an easy adjustment.

     Seeing your sister act like the walking dead was even more trying.

     All of it was because of that boy, who left her when things got hard. Mom only thought of "young love" and said "a little heartbreak builds character!"

     Phil thought Edward was an ass, but that Bella was being a little dramatic about her first heartbreak.

     Charlie and I shared a similar sentiment: Edward Cullen better not come back to Forks. If he does, I'll kill him.

     I'd get away with it, too. Charlie would shut down the investigation because he'd be glad the boy was gone and wouldn't hurt his daughter any more.

     I'd hurt him, especially but not limited to the fact that I wasn't quite sold about Bella falling down the stairs after she ran off. I don't think Edward pushed her, per se, but I don't think they told us the entire truth. Call it a gut feeling, or intuition, or whatever. I don't trust him or his family, aside from the good doctor. He's always seemed the most normal, from what I've heard.

---

     "Bella," I call, knocking on the door to her room. It was quit still, and I was waiting impatiently for her to answer. We had to go to school before we were late and got another day of detention.

     "Bella!" I shout, knocking on the door again. I hear some rustling and watch as the knob turns, only to find my sister with her pajamas on, her hair a mess, and looking like she had been through a hurricane.

     She blinked owlishly at me, almost like she was deciphering who I was.

     I sighed through my nose, trying to be sympathetic to her. I guided her to the bathroom and made her brush her teeth while I untangled her hair. In an attempt to keep it from getting ratty again, I braided it back tightly and wrapped put oils on the ends to try and keep it from frizzing up.

     "Sorry," she told me, staring blankly at the mirror. All the anger in my chest deflated, and for a second, I felt as hollowed out as she looked.

     Hollow, empty, devoid of soul.

     That's how she looked.

     Anger ignited in my chest again, but not at her. At her shitty ex-boyfriend who left her in the woods because he was a coward and couldn't break up with her properly.

     "Don't worry about it," I told Bella, "I'll get Charlie to write a note or something. I guess the driveway was extra icy this morning."

---

     The school day passed without much happening.

     Bella's friend Mike tried to get me to pass something on to her, but I couldn't hear what he said before Jessica pulled him away without a glance at me.

     I thought she was stuck up, but she wasn't a bad person.

     Lunch was subpar again, the cafeteria food being lukewarm at best and cold in the middle of the mashed potatoes.

     "I wonder if Charlie could threaten them into making the food better," I wondered aloud, poking at the food on my plate.

     Bella remained frozen in time, staring at the seat beside me as if she was waiting for someone to appear there.

     I sighed, shaking my head.

     I hummed to myself as I continued to poke and prod at my food u til the bell rang to get back to class.

---

     A few days pass.

     Nothing changes.

     Bella's still depressed and hardly living in the real world. She wakes up screaming from night terrors and Charlie's started to sleep in the couch so he doesn't have to get up from his bed anymore.

     I've started to develop insomnia, I think.

     I don't sleep until the early hours of the morning, since that's usually when Bella stays asleep, too.

     I'm awake from six thirty in the morning until two in the morning.

     My routine consists of waking up, getting dressed and ready for school, then getting Bella up and dressing her. It's about forty minutes allotted to each of us, and then an extra ten to get Bella's lunch ready and packed.

     I go to school with her, go about my monotonous but peaceful day, eat a silent lunch with my sister, finish my day, and go back home.

     When I'm home, I work on anything I didn't finish already. Sometimes I go in for work at the 24/7 diner at the corner of Wheatgrass and 74th, working the night shifts and getting home in time for Bella to stay asleep. I make my lunch from the food I got to take home from the Roy's Diner, I take a scalding hot shower, and I pass out for the four hours before I have to wake up again.

---

     Angela asked me how Bella was.

     She seemed like the only one that truly cared about my sister.

     Jessica was sour because she was ignored. Mike only wanted in her pants and was stringing Jessica along. And Eric was nice, but really only cared about the news paper and Angela.

     "Is she getting any better?" Angela asked me, sitting down beside me at the table I was reading at.

     "Not really." I replied, looking up at her for a minute. "Charlie's about to send her back to Jacksonville."

     "Oh," Angela said, looking sad at the news. "Is there anything I can do for her? I try to invite her out, but she never shows."

     I shrugged, "Not much to do. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make her drink."

     Angela nodded, her lips thinning for a moment before she got back up.

     She patted my shoulder before she left, and I immersed myself back into my reading.

---

     Working the night shift at Roy's was never boring. We got loads of interesting people here. Charlie called the diner "a drunk's dream." Sure, it was a little sleazy and a lot of greasy food, but it wasn't horrible to be in. If you ignored the obnoxious 70s disco decor.

     A duo of two men were sat in my section, both of them looking like hell.

     "Welcome to Roy's, I’m y/n. What can I get started for you?" I asked, my peppy customer service voice grating on my own nerves so late at night.

     They both had tanned skin in shades of bronze, and long, dark hair. One had it pulled up in braids down his back, the other's hair loose.

     "A Pepsi, please," the first man said, and he looked to the other boy, "Jared, what do you want?"

     Jared ordered a strawberry milkshake.

     "Be right back!" I told them, spinning on my heel and going to get their drinks.

     "How old do you think those guys in your section are?" Chelsea asked as I filled up the drinks. She was staring at the two I had just spoken to, and I shrugged.

     "Dunno, don't really care." I said, "They look grown enough, I guess."

     "Grown enough?" She parroted, laughing, "They all have to be at least twenty!"

      Again, I just shrugged.

     "Ugh, no fun." Chelsea said, rolling her eyes and disappearing into the back to go gossip with the cooks.

     "Here are those drinks," I said, setting them down before each of the boys. "Anything to eat?"

     "I want two number twos with lettuce, tomatoes, unions, and pickles, please, and a large fry." Jared told me, and I wrote it all down quickly. Two double patty burgers and a large fry was a lot to get down, but boys had large stomachs, I guess.

     Sam spoke next, ordering, "A number three with tomatoes and lettuce only, with a number four with everything and a large fry, please."   

     Spicy chicken sandwich with everything on it and a pulled pork sandwich, I wrote, then said, "Be right back, then."

      I handled my other tables until the food was ready, and I had to ask Kass to help me carry it all. When I set the food down, in front of them, they both thanked me and started eating. I grabbed their cups to refill their drinks, and when I was back to the table, most of their food was already gone.

     "You two sure can put food away, wow," I said, setting the drinks down again. Jared had ordered another milkshake, and a water. Sam still got the Pepsi.

     Sam smiled, looking weary but better. Color had returned to his face, and his eyes looked brighter.

     "We're growing boys," Jared joked, and I smiled.

     When they left, after ordering a slice of pie, I got a nice tip and a doodled wolf on the check.

---

     Bella went out with Jessica to see a movie, I think. I wasn't paying a lot of attention when she said it, I had a mountain of homework from physics and not nearly enough time to do all of it.

     Charlie found Bella's wallet and told me to go give it to her, so I went to Port Angeles to find her.

     I saw Jessica first, and she was watching in mute horror as Bella spoke to some strange man on a motorcycle.

     "Bella!" I yelled, people glancing my way as I stormed up to her to snag her by her arm and drag her away.

     For a moment, she looked hopeful, like she was expecting to see someone else.

     "Oh my god, you're stupid!" I yelled, dragging her back to my car. "Do you not think about anything anymore? He could have kidnapped you! He could have done worse!"

     "I just-" she caught herself, flinching, "I thought I knew him."

     "Good lord," I said, swearing at her for her recklessness, "I thought Charlie would have told you about stranger danger, but I guess not! Maybe it's time for a refresh!"

     Jessica trailed behind us as I berated Bella and lectured her over the dangers of strangers and dark alleyways and motorcycles.

     I folded my sister into the passenger seat of my car, ordering Jessica in the back seat.

     "But, uh, what about Bella's car..?" Jessica asked, staring at me.

      "I'll get it tomorrow. I don't trust Bella not to do something else stupid with it now." I huffed, reaching over to buckle Bella's seatbelt and peeling out of the parking lot.

     I dropped Jessica home safely and pulled into the driveway, marching back inside.

     "Your daughter has lost all her sense!" I told Charlie, "Dad, you need to tell her about stranger danger again before she gets herself kidnapped!"

     "Y/n, now wait a minute-" he started, glancing at the door as my sister came stalking in behind me.

     "Bella, you wanna tell me what your sister is talking about?" Charlie asked, and I huffed as she just sighed.

     She explained and got a stern talking to, but I wasn't satisfied.

     I started going everywhere with her, after that.

     When we weren't in classes, I was attached to her hip. Hell, I even started sleeping in her room with her.

     She still kicks.

     But the nightmares become less frequent when we have sleepovers every night.

     I make her take care of herself by doing it for her, forcing her to brush her teeth and wash her face as I do her hair in the mornings and at night, packing a healthy lunch for her, and forcing her to keep up with her studies.

     It's exhausting, but it's better than staying up until I cant anymore, and it's slowly getting me my sister back.

     And then Jacob comes back into the picture

     He and Bella are fixing up some old bikes. I have no interest in them, so I sit with them and listen as they talk.

     Sometimes I draw some still life pictures of them, sitting together and working.

     Sometimes I sleep.

     Sometimes I do my homework like a good student.

     Slowly, I started to trust Jacob with my sister. I started picking up more daytime shifts at Roy's, and I started to relax.

     The nightmares still happen, but they've gone down to about twice a week now.

     Sometimes she only wakes up crying, others it's the screaming again.

     But progress is progress.

---

     "Y/n, I sat a group of three in your section. Booth in the far corner, babe." Makayla told me as I passed the host stand.

     "Thanks, Mak," I said, hurrying to drop off my drinks to some travelers before going to my new table.

     Ryan comes barreling my way to drop some food off, and I spin around him to avoid knocking into him and his tray of food. I get to the booth in the back, seeing some familiar faces.

     "Hey guys," I smile, recognizing two of my favorite customers, "I haven't seen you two in a minute, how've you been?"

     Sam, who I learned later from Charlie, had been the one to find Bella after she was dumped in the woods by Edward. I didn't care if he knew who I was or not, not really, because I knew who he was. I couldn't do much for him, but showing my gratitude for saving my sister through the Family and Friend's discount was enough for me.

     "So busy," Jared complains, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "He's had me doing chores for days and makes me take more if I don't do my homework! He's like my mom now!"

     Sam rolls his eyes as I laugh, reaching out to flick Jared in the forehead. The two of them have been coming to

     "You're working with me, I'm responsible for you. So sad for you." Sam says dryly, and I shake my head at their antics.

     "Strawberry shake and Pepsi?" I ask them, my eyes tuning towards their new friend.

     He looks rough, almost like Bella did. His long hair is pulled back in a hastily done bun, and his eyes are sharp and attentive. He looks at me oddly, his brows slightly drawn together and his eyes squinting slightly.

     "What can I get for you?" I ask him, an odd feeling rising in my chest as I meet his eyes.

     He's quiet for a moment before he takes a deep breath and orders a water.

     I nod, taking down his drink order and turning towards the kitchen.

     "Ooh, your friends brought someone new!" Chelsea crooned, coming to drape her arms over my shoulders as she watches me fill up the two cups in my hands. I roll my eyes.

     "Chels, why are you always back here when you're supposed to be doing your work?" I ask, dragging her towards the milkshake machine as I fill up Jared's strawberry shake.

     "I'm doing my side work! I got cut early." She says, smacking her gum in my ear. I cringe, reaching back to push her face away from mine.

      "Love that for you, girl, but get your smacking away from my ears, please." I told her, hearing her laugh as I add a cherry to the milkshake and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. She walks off to go finish cutting her lemons and I put all three drinks on the tray to bring them out.

     I set down the drinks and milkshake, turning the tray under my arm as I pull out my note pad to take down their food order.

     "Number three, no unions, large fry, and a chicken sandwich, unions, tomatoes, lettuce, with a large fry." Jared rattles out, and I jot it down quickly. I turn to Sam and notice a distinct lack of his friend beside him.

     "Chicken tenders and a large fry, number two and a basket of onion rings, please," Sam says, adding, "Paul will have the same as me, but without the onion rings and with fried pickles instead."

     I nod, writing it all down.

     "You want me to put a slice of pie in and bring it out later?" I ask, seeing Jared nod enthusiastically.

     "That'd be great, y/n, thanks." I again nod at Sam's words, turning away and hustling to the kitchen to put in their order.

     I service my other tables while the boys' food is being made, bustling around my section. I'm keenly aware of eyes on me, but I figure it's just someone waiting to get my attention so I can give them a refill.

     When their food is ready, I bring it out to Sam and his group.

     I set each of the baskets down before each of the boys, picking up their cups and going to get them refills.

     They each eat quickly, and every time I pass their table, my skin prickles.

     I try to see if it's one of them that needs my attention, but each time I look over, they're all engrossed in their food, or a conversation. Any time I look over, they're in tense conversation. I try and keep my distance so I don't disturb them, but I make sure to keep attentive to their cups and plates.

     I sigh after a while, deciding that I must be making things up. No one seemed to be looking at me.

     They ate quickly and I ran them their check. I was left with a good tip and a smiley face on the paper of the check beside Sam's signature.

---

     When I was finally cut to go home, I took a long shower and collapsed in my bed. When my eyes closed, I saw a picture in my mind's eye.

     Dark eyes framed by thick lashes. My vision slowly panned out, and I saw dark eyebrows. There was a slight wrinkle between them, like the person was frowning. Slowly, my mind put together a strong nose, then high cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jaw. Finally, I saw long, dark hair framing this handsome face.

     Slowly, I put a name to the face I saw in my mind.

     Paul.

     Why I was seeing Sam and Jared's friend, I had no clue. There was no denying that he was attractive, though. His angular face and sharp eyes made him look uninviting, but his sullen demeanor was softened by his full, almost pouty lips and well kept hair. His lack of facial hair made him look younger compared to Jared, who's scruffy chin made him look closer to twenty than to seventeen. The long, silky hair on his head had been messily pulled back, yes, but it served to make him look almost boyish, also.

     I was pulled out of my thoughts when my door creaked open, and I peeled my eyes awake to see Bella standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, I pulled back the blankets around me and scooted over. She shut the door behind her and fell into my bed, sighing as I reaching out to pull the blanket over her shoulders.

     I fell asleep shortly after, Bella's breathing steady almost immediately.

Word Count: 3157

Author's Note:

Hey guys!! This is my first fic ever! Please lmk what you think about it 🥰

Also, I plan to change some things about the story. I'm going on a mix of the books and movies, but I plan to change the timeline a little, change the logistics a bit, and make some of the characters a bit older because I don't like how literally everyone is like 16?? Anyway, I'll probably put out a chapter of all the stuff I change to get some feedback and stuff

All rights go to the original authors and publishers !

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.

[corviiids]

ok here is a playlist about light yagami

| light | no surprises - radiohead // | the death note | uprising - muse // boulevard of broken dreams - green day // | misa amane | starlight - muse // | ryuga hideki | do you want me (dead?) - all time low // | memory | i love you - woodkid // | the death note ii | NOSE BLEED - stand atlantic, sueco // you're gonna go far, kid - the offspring // when your heart stops beating - +44 // dead! - my chemical romance // wake me up when september ends - green day // | yagami | mama - my chemical romance // disarm - the smashing pumpkins // father and son - yusuf / cat stevens

also on youtube

(thoughts and context under the cut)

no surprises - light's nihilism and disillusionment pre-kira - without the death note i think light would have gone down this line faster.

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government

uprising; boulevard of broken dreams - self-explanatory i feel

Rise up and take the power back It's time the fat cats had a heart attack You know that their time's coming to an end

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me 'Til then I walk alone

starlight - misa towards light

Far away from the memories Of the people who care if I live or die ... My life You electrify my life Let's conspire to ignite All the souls that would die just to feel alive

do you want me (dead?) - light and L's early rivalry and interactions in college are largely exploratory, simultaneously more and less openly hostile, still cautious and uncertain where they stand with each other.

There's no such thing as a perfect crime Don't play that You've said it enough Cause you want me Or you want me dead

i love you - self-indulgent haha i couldn't resist. takes place in a similar continuity to my fic where light and L start a fake relationship for the investigation but when light briefly thinks it's real after he loses his memories. i think canonically light is too irritated with L's poor moral compass to develop true feelings for him even during this arc, but i do think it's reasonable to think light might develop a bit of a puppy crush and a desire for L's attention lol. simultaneously it's kinda a bit of L at kira.

Is there anything I could do Just to get some attention from you? In the waves I've lost every trace of you Where are you?

NOSE BLEED - i think this is the most lawlight song ever. (this also made me think of a couple of my fics.) after light gets his memories back i think his attachment to L transforms into a bit of disgust directed both at himself and L

I'd rather be lonely and hate myself Than someone you think about ... So this is what you get For messin' with my head Don't wanna end up dead (Dead) Six feet in the ground

you're gonna go far, kid - nobody wants to hear that this song is about light yagami but it is. lowkey this is L to light while those bells are ringing

There's something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want Well it's all because of me Now dance, fucker, dance Man, I never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you

when your heart stops beating; dead! - self-explanatory and victorious in a hysterical about to start crying way

I'll be there when your heart stops beating I'll be there when your last breath's taken away In the dark when there's no one listening In the times when we both get carried away

Have you heard the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say I think they never liked you anyway Oh, take me from the hospital bed Wouldn't it be grand? It ain't exactly what you planned

wake me up when september ends - listen i concede this one doesn't make a ton of sense but i've included it because the vibes work for me. something something a melancholy coming back to the self, a rude and painful awakening after a loss of innocence you cant run from. look over there, a distraction

The innocent can never last ... Here comes the rain again Falling from the stars Drenched in my pain again Becoming who we are

mama; disarm - light to his family, to the world, a manic little soliloquy

Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry Mama, we're all gonna die And when we go, don't blame us, yeah We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah You made us oh, so famous ... You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son

I used to be a little boy So old in my shoes And what I choose is my choice What's a boy supposed to do? The killer in me is the killer in you

father and son - are you ever just so god damn sad about the yagamis.

FATHER I was once like you are now, and I know that it's not easy To be calm when you've found something going on ... SON Keeping all the things I knew inside It's hard But it's harder to ignore it

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Yandere Kars X Pillar woman reader who survived because she was with baby Whamu and baby Santana, protecting them.

This idea makes me go monkey brain, had to write a short on this and upload at nearly 2am.

Defy nature

(Yandere Kars X Female pillar woman reader)

You frantically shushed the crying baby in your arms as you cradled him in an attempt to quell him.

“Please stop crying or they'll find us” you quietly pleaded. Not wanting to draw the attention of Kars and Esidisi. You'd already watched them mow down even the strongest of their own kind, dead set on killing everyone that opposed them. You'd been told to flee with the only two children Wammu and Saitana as everyone tried to defend against them.

You turned to the basket you were kneeling by. Saitana began to stir.

“No no no, not you too” you muttered before you heard steps approaching.

You threw your head towards the source of the sound and your blood went cold.

“(Y/n)” Kars lulled your name, covered in the blood of your own.

“you never were a fighter, always so tender my flower” he said as he took another step forward.

Tender, a word he described you with a great many times. Sickened you to think he'd been one of your paramours now that he had massacred so many.

“I won't let you kill them too!” You proclaimed as you put wammu back in the basket.

“No I don't intend to kill them, children have such impressionable minds… I shall train them to serve me” he said. Your gut churned, use children to fulfill his own sick twisted plans. You couldn't understand his thought process.

“Why? Why would you do such a thing to yourself?” You questioned.

“I wanted to carve a path for our kind, we were once revered by the humans as God. Now they are trying to kill us. Once I find a way to release our true potential we shall be the ultimate lifeforms” he explained.

“Yes that was the case before but any creature does not wish to be ruled by another, fear is a necessity for any to survive… what you intend to do is go against nature itself” you seethe, looking him straight in his eyes. He was different, frenzied with an insatiable appetite.

“What you've become now is a sick mockery of our brethren, the ones you have slayed without even a thought!” you yelled. Both babies now wailing.

“I never thought I'd see the day you'd yell” he said in an amused tone.

“I hold no manners to you, you will just kill me like everyone else” you told him.

Within the blink of an eye he was now right beside you. Holding your head in his hand.

“I couldn't,” he confessed.

“In truth I always felt a burning Jealousy towards your other partners. For so long I've wanted you to myself” he continued as his free hand delicately toyed with your horn, something he knew you'd usually take great pleasure in but not now. It felt more  perverse than before with that hungry gaze, like a boa seconds before it eats its prey whole.

“And now I do” he said.

[sootmemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS: LYRICS THAT HIT ME IN THE FEELS [PT. 2] change words as needed ! ctrl + shift + v to paste into the inbox on desktop.

❝ vengeance is the only drug, and I can't get enough. ❞

❝ I don't know euphoria; would like to meet her someday. ❞

❝ now I'm just covered in the dirty blood of man. ❞

❝ I'd talk myself down if I knew what to say. ❞

❝ nobody tells you 'til you go up in flames that you can't live like a devil and die like a saint. ❞

❝ well, the trick of the trouble is avoiding the blame. ❞

❝ I'm alive, I'm revived, I survived, you surprised ? ❞

❝ if this was meant for me, why does it hurt so much ? ❞

❝ let me tell you from a dead mans point of view: live your life, because when its done you don't get another one. when they sing for you don't let them sing the blues. ❞

❝ what they don't understand, they condemn. what they can't comprehend must meet its end. ❞

❝ sometimes I feel like I'm a mockingbird, mimicking the songs that I've already heard. ❞

❝ nurse, sinner, virgin, bitch... I am the vengeful child of the witch. ❞

❝ you played my game. hell, now you're a piece in it. ❞

❝ but then if you're so smart tell me, why are you still so afraid ? ❞

❝ slow down, you're doing fine. you can't be everything you want to be before your time. ❞

❝ though you can see when you're wrong, you know you can't always see when you're right. ❞

❝ you got your passion, you got your pride, but don't you know that only fools are satisfied ?❞

❝ crazy is, I believe, the medical term for when we want to recover but don't want to learn. ❞

❝ if we want to wake up, why are we still singing these lullabies ? ❞

❝ its so convenient to lose the truth when its laughing in your face ❞

❝ I'm still living in a knife fight, living like a bad guy ❞

❝ no point in stressing, we're not impressing them anymore ❞

❝ cardboard is boring, look how it burns ❞

❝ I keep lighting little fires to feel something, to get burned ❞

❝ life cuts deep; let me help pick up the pieces ❞

❝ you know I hate to say it, but, "I told you so" ❞

❝ if you were easy to kill, I would have done it already. ❞

❝ if I was easy to kill, you would have done it already. ❞

❝ I used to dread the thought of falling quickly. ❞

❝ there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat. ❞

❝ nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day. ❞

❝ I'm a scholar and gentleman, and I usually don't fall when I try to stand. ❞

❝ all the daises that you picked are dead; you're better off just picking fights instead. ❞

❝ turn the page, look back at what you wrote; do you still feel the same ? I bet your mind has changed. ❞

❝ we're all gonna die we just don't know when; lets make the most of the time that we got left. ❞

❝ worlds on fire, lets toast the end. ❞

❝ I wanna scream into the night: I'm alive, I'm alive ! ❞

❝ it shouldn't be surprising how we're living like we're dying. ❞

part two to this meme. also here is a playlist based on these prompts ♡

[furiousgoldfish]

I wrote a very pained, depressive and dark post, even maybe too dark for this blog, but I ultimately decided to publish it, just because this pain has always been invisible in me, and I want to be able to say something. If you're going to read it, there's a lot of mention of death and contemplation of suicide in it, and a lot of painful emotion. Maybe someone will resonate with it and find words to describe their own pain. I also want to note that even though every word of it is true, I am most of the time completely dissociated from this, I'm not actively thinking it, and it came out now because my parents are actively trying to find me and disrupting the life I've tried to make for myself.

What my parents did to me is worse than death, they erased me. When I escaped I didn't know who I was, I had no hope to survive, I didn't think I was worth anything, I felt ashamed to even exist. I was suicidal, i thought I'd be dead within a month even if I don't do it myself. I didn't think I had it in me to survive, to be alive, to be anything. I was a less than a ghost, I didn't even have memories to remember of who I once was because there was no warm memories, only violence, blame, guilt, shame, pain, terror. I was supposed to be a person, and they put me in a state where I knew nothing about being a person, only property and a target, it was my entire life. I was told I deserved this, I was a monster, there was never anything else that is correct to do to me, but hurt me. I thought it was my job to be endlessly harmed. They knew I was suicidal and didn't stop. The only reason I didn't kill myself was the dissociative disorder that functioned like a suicide prevention measure, I physically could not have done it because I have been split into pieces and one of the pieces prevented me from doing it. I would have died otherwise.

What would a quick violent death be compared to this? A fucking blessing. I was slowly tortured until I was willing to kill myself in order to end it. They didn't want to dirty their hands with my murder, they planned on torturing me until I did it to myself. I had an intense drive to survive despite everything, and even that was getting erased. My basic instincts were being erased by the amount of pain I was in. My personality was gone, I didn't even have a personality, it was all overwhelmed by pain and desperation to both survive and end it all, I walked trough life looking death in the face the entire time, it felt so close, so close to me, like it would claim me any second, but I had to stay stoic, calm, me staring down death had to be invisible, I couldn't let it show. It shouldn't have mattered to anyone what I was experiencing. I was torn between life and death, stuck in constant anticipation of it and it couldn't have mattered.

Take a person, any person, imagine them having a life, family, friends, interests, hobbies, desires, dreams, loved ones, support, community. Now imagine that same person isolated, everything stripped away from them, and them being hurt until they can no longer remember anything they wanted to live for. Even their basic instinct to survive is stripped frm them as pain is too large for them to be able to sustain themselves, there's no longer anything in this person's life worth living for, nothing they remember about who they were, no warm thought they can think about themselves, and they're repeatedly told they deserve this, they've wanted this. Until there's nothing of them left.

That was me, but from the start. I didn't get to experience having a life, family, loved ones, interests, dreams, community, or any of that first, I didn't get to know how it was to have any of that! From the very start it was pain and being told that this is all there is, and that I'm stupid for ever thinking there would be anything more to life, that it is in fact, only terror and death and I'm a weakling for not taking it better, everyone else is dealing with this just fine. Shame and guilt were the only traits I could have, I didn't know anything further about me. Nobody knew me because nobody saw me being abused. Nobody could know I was worthless, it had to be my private hell. I would have to live only to the point where it was decided that it was enough and I had to die, or until the point where I couldn't take it anymore and take my own life, even though I so strongly didn't want to, even that basic desire was tempered with and overwritten by pain.

Who would want a life like that? Life of not only being aware that nobody cares about you, but everyone around you is willing to inflict pain on you until you wish to die, but can't. Where crying and screaming is forbidden even when you can't breathe from the amount of pain you're in; you're not even allowed to cry out. You fight with yourself every day on how badly you want to die and why you can't, and it doesn't help, you get lost in magical thinking in order to escape from the hell you're in, but you're brutally reminded of it every time you interact with anyone, when they find you hiding under the bed and dreaming. You don't even know that you're supposed to have loved ones, be safe, be unharmed, that life is supposed to be different, that you're not alive only to be a target, that you're worth anything. You don't even know that you're supposed to have more freedom in life than to choose the manner and time of your death, this is all that's dealt to you. And now, live, see how far you can get before you die. Would anyone choose that? Would anyone decide to be born into a life like that? Wouldn't you choose not to exist at all rather than be put trough that? To be erased and then having to keep on living while thinking you in fact, deserve death, and should do it yourself, and you know if you do die, it won't matter, just like your life didn't? Because people around you regularly nearly kill you and then laugh about it like it was a funny joke? They humiliate you for how ugly you look close to death? You're scared that your last moment will be humiliation for how unseemly your corpse looks and you're hoping you'd be able to die alone, to not be berated as you're dying.

Death is nothing to me compared to this. Waiting to die is worse than death. Endless anticipation of pain is worse than death. Having everything about you erased by pain is worse. Not knowing anything about yourself except that you are incredibly shameful existence and that you need to feel guilty all of the time, is worse. Watching people around you receive care and warmth while you're stuck watching death in the face silently, pretending it's not happening, and trying to not have anyone's attention on yourself because someone noticing means more pain, more shame and guilt. It's worse. Kill me any fucking day. But this will always be worse. Every time I face the reality of my life I wish I had died in the womb, at childbirth, I wish I had died when I was 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, any time before I experienced all this. It would have been so much less pain. It would have been so much easier on me.

And I've already given up on ever having a place in anyone's heart, because at this point, I don't have it in me to make people love me. I have nothing about me that is other people find worth caring for, I made peace with it. There will be no loved ones, and thats fine. But at least then I should get to live my life alone the way I want it. I should find joy in being who I found I am, and doing what I want to do. I should get to do things that give me a little bit of pleasure and enjoyment, and I should be safe, and death should no longer come knocking at my door, staring me down like I owe it something. If I can't even have that, then to hell with everything. What is the fucking point of anything if all my life is a continued slow torture until I can no longer bear it. I have nobody to bear it for, nobody would be harmed by my death. But I also don't deserve to die, because I want to live, and this should be mine. Who the fuck dares to try and take this away from me again. I want to fucking explode. If I have to make my own justice then how do I do it. I literally just want to live. And I see other people having at least that much secured for them. Why can't I at least have that much. I am seriously asking for the bare fucking minimum.

[artist-issues]

You're my new favorite blog! You have no idea how I wish I could peck inside your brain like a chicken. 😭😂😂 I am a Catholic and a recovering agnostic. I struggle with letting go of my old way of life and philosophy constantly, I have been struggling with it since the day I decided to revert - that was back in 2017. (I think you would like to know my journey back to the Faith started after watching HBO's The Young Pope! 👌🏼) At this point I don't know if I'll ever be the person the Lord wants me to be, oh well, I'll die trying and I know that will mean something.

I just know I can't go back to being a non-believer, because as Carl Young said, now I don't just believe, I know. The irony is my struggle to believe in something I know to be objectively the Truth.

I have a question for you though, actually I hope for some advice from you. How do I reconcile with the reality that I haven't become who I dreamed to become (like career wise), but now that a new career has been shoved upon me (a career my parents wanted for me - and they valued safety and stability over "following my dreams" I suppose)? ...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because it is an extremely noble profession and it pays quite well.

The thing is, as much as I try to accept my new career, I keep telling myself and to others that I'm doing this for my parents and not because I want to be here. I feel terrible about it. But, again, it's not like I am unfulfilled (I am unhappy though, but that comes with the work culture/environment, I feel like I am surrounded by 40+ year old teenagers); as a matter of fact, I do think I know - objectively - in my heart that this is exactly where the Lord wants me to be? But I keep fighting against it, keep struggling against this sense of vocational calling that I'm feeling towards my new job, instead I desperately wanna give into my want to go "live the life I want." Like throw this all away, get new training and start all over with the career I wanted all those years ago.

I want to be better, to be sacrificial like Christ on the Cross. I've always known I had a little depression (comes with my disability from a young age and this whole dream thing); I have been suicidal over this, I actually used to joke with myself that I'd kill myself if I don't achieve my professional goals by the time I turned 25. I will turn 30 this September and even though I haven't been literally dead, I feel like I've been in a vegetative state - mentally - ever since the day I turned 25. I hope that makes sense.

I started seeing a therapist 2 weeks ago since my mental health started affecting my new job - she did say I have depression and is trying to help me but I just don't know if I want to be helped at all, because I am unable to do the exercises she tells me (like create a routine, exercise well, write down good thoughts, etc.) I feel like I'm failing myself, my parents and, most importantly, my Heavenly Father.

I apologise if this is nonsensical, I apologise for dumping all of this on you - random stranger on the internet - but idk I felt like maybe you'd have something wise to tell me to knock some sense into me (without a bump to prove it hehe).

Thank you and God bless! 🥰

You’re very kind, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share all this with me! I really never have anything good of my own to say, or any wisdom to offer, except what I “steal” from God…and I guess what I mean is, if I ever say anything helpful or good or true, I’m just the messenger. I didn’t come up with it. On my own I have zero wisdom or good things to offer.

Anyway, I was surprised reading this because I have gone through (been going through) a similar sort of mindset. I went to school for the career I dreamed about (still dream about) and I worked hard and I wanted it more than anybody around me (very Mike Wasowski in MU of me) and it hasn’t happened the way I planned, or in my timetable.

I mean, in all humility: I work with a studio making a tv show, but it hasn’t got off the ground yet, and I work for a company that writes movie reviews, but neither of those things pay my bills. I have a third job, working with therapists, that’s nothing like what I always wanted to do. That’s my “career,” but it’s not the career I’m passionate about and working toward. And I wonder if I’ll ever do anything “major” in the line of work I love and went to school for. And when I do, I have gotten into some really dark mental places.

Forgive me for not using the words “depression” or “suicidal.” I hate using those words because they’re overused and romanticized and flooding the culture. But more importantly I hate using them because the only thing I identify with is Christ, not any mental struggle I try to slither back into, like a snake trying to put back on old skin. I’m not my overthinking—I’m not my depression—I’m not my suicidal thoughts or emotions—I am one with Christ. Those are things inside me that are defeated and dead—the teeth have been knocked out of them. They just gum me from time to time. So I want you to know I empathize with you, but that’s my point and that’s how I want to answer you:

The only thing about you that really matters is Christ.

Who He says you are, what He has done and how He lived, which is applied to you because He said it is, by grace alone, through faith alone. No matter how you feel.

And I say that to you, as the answer, because I think you and I focus too much on what could be and what “should be” as if God has a set path for us, and if we don’t figure out what it is and walk it, we’ll have a less-fulfilling life. “If I stay at my therapy job and just work with teenagers and write on my blog for the rest of my life, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be as good as I could be.” Or for you. “If I stay in this career I’m in, the one my parents backed me into, I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, but I’ll never be as happy as I want to be.” We’re both thinking, every once in a while, “This is career is what God wants for me, and all my misery is coming from not submitting to it, and if I could just wrestle my contentment into place and give up the thing I want, and submit to what God wants, I’d be fulfilled.”

But how do we know any of those thoughts are true? How do we know God wants us in these boring old careers we wouldn’t have chosen—didn’t choose? Or, how do we know these boring old careers are what we’re stuck in because we didn’t take the plunge and work harder for our “dreams,” which were what He really wanted us to do? How do we know either of those things?

We don’t. We don’t get to know. That’s the point.

Because that’s not how God works. Not from what I can tell in the Bible.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”. Colossians 3:17.

Whatever you do. Not “the one specific thing you figure out He wants you to do.”

My mom described it to me once when I was in a really dark place trying to figure out what He wanted me to do, paralyzed with indecision, afraid He wanted me to do something I just didn’t want to do, like this: “God doesn’t hold out one flower and say, ‘this is the one I want you to have, so you can either take it or take something worse.’ God makes a field of flowers, and He says, ‘Which one do you want? Pick one, and do it with excellence for Me.’ Then just trust Him to make it good.”

It sounds like you’re in a career, but you are wrestling with whether or not to pick it, now that you have some autonomy as an adult, or to pick starting over. Well. Pick one. Just pick one. And trust God to take care of you. Trusting God looks like thinking it through with excellence, then making the decision—and making the decision means letting go of worrying about the thing you didn’t pick. “Take every thought captive in obedience to Christ.” Once you make a choice, make it all the way, and don’t let your mind wander anymore to “what if this blows up in my face? What if I should’ve stayed back there at the crossroads, or gone down the other path?” It’s going to be hard and God is going to take care of you, no matter what you pick. So don’t let your mind go to those places where you worry; acknowledge the worry, and every time, ask God to help you remember that He’s got you.

Because here’s the point, here’s the thing: He does have you. Because ultimately, your career really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Neither does your dream. Not ultimately. And now I’ll say “our” because I need to hear it too. Our dreams and careers are not the point of us, and our dreams and careers are not what God means when He says “I’ll take care of you.”

What He means is, “I’ve already taken care of you.” Because the most important thing isn’t our job or our dream. The most important thing is, we’ve been rescued out of eternally being trapped in our broken desires, and now we get to live for Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s the major. And that truth is where our fulfillment is supposed to come from, what our lives are meant for, our purpose. As long as we pick one, and do it with excellence to make the name of Jesus famous, with that goal in mind, we’ll be emotionally fulfilled. We’ll be satisfied. Because that’s the goal. Not making movies, or whatever it is you want to do. Not having secure means of living. Just…living our lives to make who Jesus is famous. We can do that wherever.

So then the choice? It becomes a minor, not a major, and the pressure of “will I be happy?” is off, because happiness isn’t found in that stuff. And whenever I forget, and start looking for happiness in my dreams, goals, career, that’s when it all starts to feel dark and stressful and hard and crushing. Because it was never meant to give me happiness or fulfillment—that’s a need only Christ can fulfill.

Don’t misunderstand me. He cares what you do. He cared about every decision you make, and He does have a plan. But that’s going to happen anyway. So just pray, consider which option is a) wise to go for and takes care of the responsibilities God has entrusted you with, b) which option you genuinely want, when your wants are not influenced by fears, and then c) step out and do it in faith. And do it with the mindset of, “I’m doing this, and I’m not thinking about the alternative if I can help it, and I’m also not putting all my happiness-eggs in this basket, because even if it crashes and burns, hey, I’m still one with Christ and I can still make Him famous no matter what road my career goes down.”

I hope this helps. It’s a subject I’m hamster-wheeling around in my mind right now a lot—but when I just fix my eyes on Christ and think about how the most important things, the things that give real joy and happiness, are already and forever taken care of and I can’t mess them up—then can get off the hamster wheel and enjoy the life He’s given me, right now, today, without worrying about the future.

[starandcloud]

Y/N x 141

Based off something that happened last night

TW: talk of past suicide attempts, morbid humor, ooc 141

Y/N and the boys: having a peaceful night

Y/N: Looks Gaz dead in the eyes Do you want to know how I tried to kill myself when I was like... Eleven?

Gaz: Being tired as hell, slowly nods Get it off your chest kiddo

Y/N: Overly excited OKAY SO! When I was younger I was going to hang myself

Gaz: Chokes on his coffee, not really expecting the enthusiasm O- Cough ka- Cough y

Y/N: And I was thinking about it, then I realized my ceiling was to thin so I didn't but I think the other reason was I was laughing to hard

Gaz: What the hell were you laughing Y/N? Genuinely concerned now

Y/N: BECAUSE! I realized that I'd be a pinata and I thought about how funny it would be if I put a sign on my door that said "Pinata Inside"with baseball bats by the door so when people walked in they'd bee really excited then they'd see it was me and they'd be traumatized! Starts hysterically laughing

Gaz: Stares At Y/N, pretty sure he got traumatized from that information Y/N... That's not funny...

Y/N: I-It's hil- giggles ari- giggle ous! Sees Soap out of the corner of their eye SOAP! SOME'RE! Y/N: Proceeds to tell Soap that information and getting a giggle from him

Gaz: SOAP! That's not funny!

Soap: I mean... It is just a little bit-

[iloveacaibowls111]

KFC Breakup

synopsis: basically the KFC breakup :(

A/N: I finished one exam but I absolutely flunked it lol and I have one more so I thought to just post this for now. btw the dialogue isn't accurate, sorry:)

Everything changed in that one year.

I remember the exact day all too well. Satoru’s angry yells, Shoko’s sigh of disbelief, and my own betrayed tears. The day we found out that Suguru had killed his own parents. The day we lost him forever.

2007 was a tough year. With the death of Riko Amanai and the incident with Toji Fushiguro, it wasn’t surprising that Suguru had grown quieter. His face had become more gaunt, his eyes more sunken and swollen. Looking back, I should have seen the signs. I always prided myself on being observant, on catching the details that slipped by others. Like how Satoru's eyes would brighten, turning a shade bluer, whenever Suguru was nearby. The way they whispered about secret messages, casting stolen glances when they thought no one was watching. I noticed everything. Or, at least, I thought I did.

But obviously, I wasn’t as clever as I believed. I should have asked him if he was okay—basic human decency, really. But I didn’t. Maybe it was because of what I was dealing with that year, my own messes. Still, that’s no excuse. We were a group, best friends. And in the end, none of that mattered.

“He wouldn’t kill his parents! He’s not a monster!” Satoru's furious voice echoed down the halls as he argued with Yaga. The rage in his tone was palpable, raw. Shoko and I sat outside the classroom, backs against the cold wall, listening in silence. The smoke from her cigarette drifted towards me, stealing what little breath I had left.

“I can’t believe it,” I whispered, more to myself than to Shoko. She stared into the distance, her expression unreadable, even after all the years I'd known her. The thought of Suguru, our calm, collected Suguru, committing something so horrid—it shattered the way I saw the world.

“He’s an idiot,” Shoko finally said, her voice low, almost tired. Her gaze shifted to mine, and I could see something fragile there, something that flickered and then disappeared. “Did he really think he could get away with it?” She exhaled slowly, her head falling forward. “He’s going to end up dead.”

Tears stung my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. To me, it was like he was already gone. The Suguru I knew—the one who hoisted me onto his shoulders just so I could be taller than Satoru, who shared his test answers with a grin, who made me food when I was too tired to care—was gone. The one who was there for me in ways no one else could be.

“Don’t cry. It’s not your fault,” Shoko’s soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I rested my head against her. Her steady heartbeat was the only sound in the world that made sense.

“I should’ve seen the signs,” I muttered, my voice thick with guilt. “I was too wrapped up in my own problems to notice him slipping away. He was like a brother…”

I glanced up at her. “Shouldn’t you be more upset, considering... you know?” I searched her face for something—grief, sadness, anything—but her expression was as calm as ever.

“He’s chosen his path,” she replied simply. “There’s nothing I can do about it.” She stood, pulling me up with her. “Come on, let’s go get some food. That always cheers me up.”

And just like that, we walked away from the weight of the conversation, heading towards the nearest KFC. Go buckets were our thing.

----------

We ate in silence, the clatter of plastic forks and crumpling of napkins filling the empty space between us. The KFC that once felt like our little haven now seemed dim, almost suffocating. When we stepped outside, the air felt different, heavy with unspoken tension. The sky was a dull shade of gray, the kind that seemed to absorb sound, making everything feel quieter than it should have been.

Shoko lit another cigarette as soon as we hit the pavement. The sharp smell of smoke mixed with the greasy remnants of our meal clung to the cool evening air. I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to shake the gnawing feeling in my chest. We were just kids, weren’t we? How did everything get so messed up?

And then I saw him.

Suguru was standing across the street, partially hidden in the shadow of a closed storefront. His posture was tense, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his long coat, his hair pulled back in a loose knot. I nudged Shoko, and she turned to follow my gaze. She exhaled smoke slowly, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto him. “Speak of the devil.”

Without thinking, I started walking toward him, my feet moving before my mind could catch up. Shoko called my name, but I barely heard her. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might explode out of my chest. This was my chance—my chance to ask him why. To ask what the hell happened to the Suguru I knew, the one who used to laugh and joke and care.

I stopped a few feet in front of him. He looked… different. His face, once familiar and soft in its expressions, was now hard, closed off. The playful warmth that used to dance in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold, distant.

“Suguru,” I said, my voice sounding weaker than I wanted it to.

He didn’t respond right away. His eyes flicked over me, then past me to Shoko, who was still standing across the street, watching us carefully. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“I guess you found out,” his voice was low, almost detached, like he was speaking to someone he didn’t recognise anymore. 

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up inside me. “How could you?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. “How could you do this? To your parents… to us?”

For a brief moment, something flashed in his eyes. Was it regret? Pain? I couldn’t tell. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“Then help me understand!” I shouted, my words sharper than I intended. “You shut us out, and then you… you kill your own parents? What the hell happened to you, Suguru?”

He flinched at my words, and for the first time, I saw a crack in his façade. But just as quickly, his expression hardened again. He turned his back to me, his shoulders hunched like the weight of everything was crushing him.

“I did what had to be done,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s not an answer!” I took a step closer, the desperation clawing at my throat. “We were your friends, your family. You didn’t have to do this alone. You didn’t have to—”

“I had to,” he interrupted, his voice suddenly cold and sharp. He turned to face me again, his eyes blazing with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. “You don’t get it, do you? The world isn’t the same as it was. It’s broken, twisted. I’ve seen it, felt it. And I’m done pretending it’s not.”

I swallowed, trying to keep my emotions in check, but the tears were already welling up in my eyes. “So what? You just... kill your parents because the world’s messed up? You become a monster?”

His jaw tightened, and for the first time, he looked truly angry. “I’m not the monster,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “The world is. And I’m going to fix it, no matter what it takes.”

I shook my head, feeling the tears spill over. “This isn’t you, Suguru. The Suguru I knew wouldn’t—”

“The Suguru you knew is gone,” he cut me off, his tone final. “He died a long time ago.”

I stood there, stunned, unable to move. His words were like knives, cutting deep, leaving me hollow. The person standing in front of me wasn’t the friend I had known for so long. He was someone else entirely, someone I didn’t recognize.

I heard Shoko approaching from behind me, her footsteps slow and deliberate. “He’s made his choice,” she said, her voice calm, as if she had already resigned herself to this reality. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Suguru looked at her, his expression unreadable. For a brief moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost like sorrow—but it was gone as quickly as it came. He turned away from us, his back now facing the setting sun, casting a long shadow across the street.

“Go home,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “This is goodbye.”

I stood there, frozen, as he began to walk away. My legs felt like they were made of lead, and my chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid. Shoko tugged at my sleeve gently, urging me to follow her.

“Let him go,” she whispered.

----------

I stood there, watching Suguru walk away. I felt as though everything I thought I knew suddenly turned out to be false. 

Just then, I heard footsteps. Fast, determined, and unmistakably familiar.

“Suguru!” Satoru’s voice cut through the air, filled with an intensity I’d never heard from him before. My heart stopped for a moment as I turned and saw him storming toward us, his eyes blazing with fury and pain.

Suguru didn’t turn around. He kept walking, shoulders squared, as if he hadn’t heard him. But I knew he had. He was bracing himself.

“Suguru!” Satoru yelled again, his voice louder, more desperate. He closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds, grabbing Suguru’s arm and yanking him around to face him.

The look in Satoru’s eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Gone was the playful, carefree Satoru we all knew. In his place was someone filled with raw anger, disbelief, and heartbreak.

“You’re not walking away from this,” Satoru spat, his grip tightening on Suguru’s arm. “Not without giving me a real explanation.”

Suguru glanced down at Satoru’s hand, then back up to meet his gaze, his expression cold and unreadable. “Let go.”

Satoru didn’t move. “No. Not until you tell me why. Why did you do it? Why did you kill your own parents, Suguru? What the hell happened to you?!”

Suguru’s eyes flickered for a moment, but his voice was calm, almost chilling in its detachment. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Satoru.”

“You owe me everything,” Satoru snarled. “We were supposed to do this together! You don’t get to decide to leave and ruin everything without even—”

“We were never doing this together,” Suguru interrupted, his voice sharp now. “You just didn’t see it. You, with your infinite power, your perfect control—you’ll never understand what it’s like to feel powerless. To see the world broken and know you can’t fix it.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened. “Don’t act like this is about saving the world, Suguru. You’ve lost it. You—”

“I’m not the one who’s lost,” Suguru snapped back, pulling his arm free from Satoru’s grip. “I’m the only one who sees the truth. The only one who’s willing to do what’s necessary.”

“Necessary?!” Satoru’s voice rose, his frustration spilling over. “Murdering your parents was necessary?”

“They were part of the problem,” Suguru shot back, his eyes hard. “Weak. Clinging to a broken system. Just like the rest of you.”

I could see it then—the way Satoru’s hands clenched into fists, the way his whole body tensed like he was barely holding himself together. He was on the edge, and Suguru knew it.

“Suguru…” Satoru’s voice dropped to a dangerous, quiet tone, the kind that sent a chill down my spine. “Don’t make me do this.”

For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Suguru stood still, his face betraying nothing, while Satoru’s gaze was fixed on him, filled with a storm of emotions that I could barely comprehend. Anger. Betrayal. Heartbreak.

----------

“You don’t have to do this, Suguru,” Satoru’s voice cracked, barely a whisper now. “We can still fix this.”

For the first time, Suguru’s mask slipped. He looked up at Satoru, and I saw it—the pain, the regret, the weight of everything he’d done. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. His eyes hardened, and he spoke the words that shattered whatever hope we had left.

“There’s nothing to fix, Satoru.”

Satoru’s hand trembled, and for a moment, I thought he might break. But then he let go, slowly standing up, his eyes filled with an unbearable sadness.

Suguru rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his coat. The tension between them hung thick in the air, but neither of them said another word. It was over. Whatever they had, whatever bond had tied them together for all those years, was gone.

I wanted to say something—to stop Suguru, to plead with him—but the words wouldn’t come. I just stood there, helpless, as he turned and started walking away, his figure growing smaller with each step.

Satoru didn’t move. He just watched, his fists clenched at his sides, his head bowed slightly.

As Suguru disappeared into the distance, I finally found my voice, shaky and broken. “Satoru…?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The silence said everything.

Suguru was gone.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

[nighttimeebony]

Unanswered questions about Dazai's backstory that are driving me fucking insane

(Yeah, so, completely against my will, Bungou Stray Dogs has been consuming every last neuron in my brain for the past several weeks, so I thought I'd share my unraveling)

(mentions of eye injuries and self-harm/attempted suicide below the cut, if you're sensitive to those kinds of things).

(1) In season 2, episode 3, when Ango turns out to be a spy in the Port Mafia, Dazai says, "Everything I never want to lose is always lost. Everything worth wanting is lost the moment I obtain it. And nothing I pursue is worth the cost of prolonging this life, this suffering." Like! What the fuck does this mean?!?!! What happened in Dazai's life that made him think this? The way he says it indicates that him "losing things he wants to keep" has happened often enough for it to become a pattern for him, so what was Dazai talking about when he said this?

(2) In season 3, episode 3, why did Dazai say "thank you" to the old Port Mafia boss when he killed Rimbaud's double of him?

In the sub, he says "let me thank you for once," and in the dub, he says "I'll never get another chance to say this, so thank you". Why did he say that?

(3) Why did Dazai keep his eye covered as a teenager? At first, I assumed it was because Dazai had some kind of injury that he was covering, considering how easily it bled every time Dazai sustained some kind of damage to his head or face, but never to the eye directly. In episode 1 of season 2, when a bullet grazes the side of his face, his eye starts to bleed

and the same thing happens again in episode 1 of season 3 when Chuuya kicks him into a wall.

BUT! When Oda's dying and he pulls Dazai's bandages off, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with his eye. And it can't be that Dazai was just wearing them as some kind of intimidation tactic; there had to have been something wrong with it, because we see it bleed twice (even though the eye itself never sustained any direct injury), but there is no visual indication that anything is wrong with his eye, either in the flashbacks or in the present (no scars, seemingly no vision issues, and no discoloration in the eye like you might expect to see as a result of permanent damage). So I am asking WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE BANDAGES FOR

(4) Where did Dazai come from before he was in the Port Mafia? We know that he was a witness to the old boss's murder when he was 14, but Dazai wasn't an official Mafia member until he was 15 when Mori tasked him to work the Arahabaki case. Was Dazai always connected to the Mafia in some way, or did he come from a normal family before Mori inducted him?

(5) FOLLOWING THAT: where are Dazai's parents? In the "Fifteen" novel, it's stated that Dazai wasn't a mere orphan that Mori just picked up, but we don't know if Dazai's parents are dead or alive or where they would be if they were alive.

(6) What are Dazai's bandages actually for? Given Dazai's track record of suicide attempts, it's a common theory that the bandages are to hide self harm scars (I subscribe to this theory myself, as it's the most plausible), but we don't actually know because we've never seen Dazai without his bandages before.

EDIT: (7) Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. In season 3, episode 2-

What is the motivation behind this scene? Why does Dazai keep shooting? Why does he think that the soldier deserved to suffer more? Dazai offers the guy a more merciful death, but Dazai also thinks that a merciful death is "more than he deserves". Why does Dazai think this? This can't just be about this one soldier, because Dazai hasn't had any kind of encounter with him before this. Dazai is clearly having some kind of small breakdown, but what triggered it and why?

[bestworstcase]

Your thoughts about Salem possibly intentionally ascending to be what is essentially a Grimm Faunus makes me think:

I wonder if Salem chose to ascend to become a Grimm because she believed Grimm were endless beings that could endure her current nightmare better than anything else. Instead, the end result of that ascension was finding out that the Grimm weren't just eternal manifestations of evil like she and many others were led to believe by the God of Light, but rather independent living creatures with their own unique morality system who could live and die like anything else. I'd imagine such a revelation would only further sour her on the God of Light, because she'd basically realize that the Grimm were just another victim of the God of Light's existential crisis.

oh i don’t think she On Purpose set out to turn herself into a grimm. for one thing, the lost fable is an unreliable narrative in a really specific way: jinn answer’s ruby’s question exactly, this is information ozpin knows or believes to be true and actively chose to hide from the kids. none of it is new information to oz—so how does he know what salem did during the parts when he wasn’t there?

salem told him.

thus, any factual incorrectness during these parts of the story must be the result of either:

salem outright lying to him, or

ozma misinterpreting what she said, or

ozma making baseless assumptions to fill in the gaps of what was (given how long ago it all was and how long she was alone) quite likely an incoherent story.

now generally speaking i believe that salem hesitated for some time before telling him of her involvement in the rebellion but otherwise told ozma the truth, because the text supports this (she “blamed the end of the world on the gods,” rightly), because she has no reason to lie about what the gods did, and because the thematic narrative requires that the lost fable be a biased account of real events, not a complete fabrication.

anyway, the point is:

If the fountain of life granted her immortality, then surely, the pools of Grimm will finally take it away… She was wrong. This force of pure destruction could not destroy a being of infinite life, so it created a being of infinite life with a desire for pure destruction.

jinn ascribes a specific motivation to salem’s choice to drown herself in the pool of grimm, and states that salem’s reasoning proved to be wrong. this passage, like the rest of the lost fable, articulates what ozpin believes—but i think this is his misinterpretation of something salem told him when she recounted this part of her story.

she says, “the fountain gave me infinite life. i thought the pool of grimm would take it from me.” he hears, “i was trying to kill myself.”

but what i think she meant was, “i thought the death in the pool and the life in my soul would mix together. maybe it would kill me, i didn’t know or care, but isn’t that how the brothers made us? darkness brought you back to life, and he called that creation, and i wasn’t thinking clearly because i was going insane from isolation but i thought that maybe if i sacrificed myself i could bring everyone back.”

she says, “i didn’t expect to become this, but of course one can’t destroy creation, so it changed me.” and he hears “i was mistaken, and now i’m cursed.”

because the thing is, as i’ve noted before, if you take away from an infinite quantity, an infinite quantity remains – because ‘infinite’ does not mean incomprehensibly big number, it means numberless, countless, boundless. so was salem suicidal, or was she doing math?

what happens if you take some life from infinite life? where does what is taken go?

she returned to the place where, millions of years ago, she’d seen the fearsome god of destruction claim the powers of creation as his own after bringing a dead man back to life. and then she poured INFINITE LIFE into the dark well of that god’s power which still, she’d seen, continued to birth living creatures long after the gods had gone.

what was she trying to do?

just die?

…or claim the powers of her creators in order to bring the world back to life?

the results being her own transformation plus animal people is probably not what she expected to happen, exactly, but – certainly it is an improvement over her previous circumstances and so i doubt she had any complaints, until humans proliferated and began to persecute the faunus.

the question of whether salem, in the grimm pool, did or didn’t experience ascension in the literal sense – as in, meeting the blacksmith and being given the choice to “choose for yourself one who could leave your burdens behind, or choose one who’ll be enough to bear them” – is a secondary but also interesting question.

i’m inclined to think that she did, and that’s interesting, because if true that implies salem had the chance to escape her curse – shed her old identity, leave all her memories behind, and be reborn new – and actively chose not to take it. and that’s so compelling because – why? what inspired her to refuse? to keep going? think about everything salem’s said about hope, that even the smallest spark can ignite change, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary, that hope is mankind’s greatest strength; think about how that hits if—

—these are the same picture.

and then there’s ‘the shallow sea’:

“They didn’t do anything to us,” the people on the shore called. “The water hasn’t changed us. It has washed away the lies to reveal what we’ve always been, just under the surface. Our old forms were just a shallow disguise. This is who we are.” A few dozen more people on the boat were convinced. They dropped into the ocean, and though they transformed more slowly, by the time they stepped out of the water, they, too, had become their true selves and were welcomed onto the island.

like, think about what it says about salem for this to be how she sees herself, how she conceives of her transformation – that in becoming grimm she became more herself. true, we haven’t yet gotten hard confirmation that ‘the shallow sea’ is an allegorical account of salem’s metamorphosis, but the writing is on the wall. lol.

she’s the same person as before but she isn’t human, doesn’t feel human anymore, doesn’t want to be human. certainly there is a degree of trauma and isolation and dehumanization at work here, but at the heart of it – and this is why, i think, she chose to return as herself, if she found the blacksmith in the grimm pool – is this idea that her human-self was a ‘lie.’

the brothers made humans and made certain promises to humankind – light especially presented himself as a benevolent adjudicator who invited people to come before him, pray to him, worship him. they made salem. she believed in them. trusted them.

and in the end, they destroyed the whole world to spite her. the last thing either of them said to her was to blame her for the massacre they committed (light) and mock her for “still demanding things of [her] creators” (dark) – so why would she ever consider herself human again? why would she do them the courtesy of calling herself their creation?

cause here’s the thing – notionally, they made humankind to settle their differences. to make peace with each other. humans were the symbol and seal of the brothers’ harmonious coexistence, and salem proved the lie, and then she went ‘fuck you both’ and created herself: a person, a grimm, the living breathing combination of the waters of life and death, light and darkness, that the brothers refused to intermingle. she proved them wrong.

salem is not the one who sowed division between them.

they separated creation from destruction and enforced that dividing line with horrific violence. salem is the one who, left behind in the ruin of their world, brought the sundered halves of destruction-and-creation back together to create herself, and in doing so created a new world.

she isn’t the flawed human who disrupted the delicate balance and ruined the world forever. she’s not the divider. salem is the balance. the unity of opposites. the very embodiment of what mankind was meant for!

and they hated her for it! the god of light intends to wipe out remnant from existence to punish her because she saw through his lies about how the world was meant to be and revealed the truth he’s afraid of.

and yeah grasping that the grimm are not ontologically evil is a part of that (and i have no doubt also factors in her hatred of the huntsman academies because she knows humans and grimm can coexist with each other – evernight itself is proof of that.) but i think it’s less significant than the union she achieved, exposing the lie that creation and destruction are not one and the same.

[lavendersugarplum]

Why Ben’s Death Was Important.

These two TUA characters could've died earlier, and I would not care.

Now that The Umbrella Academy has come to an end with Season 4, I feel like it's the perfect time to share some of my thoughts on the characters, and one in particular—Jennifer. If Jennifer had been killed off at any point during the season, it honestly wouldn't have affected me in the slightest. I just couldn't bring myself to care about her character. Jennifer's presence throughout the series has been minimal at best; she's barely had any screen time or development, making it hard to connect with or invest in her story. In many ways, she felt like a character who was simply there to serve the needs of the plot, rather than someone we were meant to root for or even understand on a deeper level.

The show could have handled her just as they did with Harlan—abruptly writing her out without much of a send-off. Harlan, who was once an important character, was discarded with little fanfare when his role no longer fit into the narrative. But because Jennifer is more closely tied to the central plot and Sparrow Ben's storyline, the writers clearly felt she was too important to be cut off so easily. Despite her being integral to certain plot points, it felt like her character never truly got the attention or development needed to make her compelling. So, while her survival made sense for the overall narrative, it didn't do much to make her any more memorable or likable to me as a viewer. If they had killed her off from the start, then the show would basically be over. Happy Ending for everyone....except her.

Another character I would have had zero qualms about losing is Sparrow Ben. Especially him. I HATE this character with a passion. No one can ever replace Umbrella Ben in my eyes; he will always be the best Ben, the only valid Ben, and the one who truly mattered. Sparrow Ben, on the other hand, is an entirely different story. I wouldn't give two flying fucks if something terrible happened to him. 😭 From the moment he appeared on screen, it was clear that his character was meant to be unlikable—arrogant, self-centered, and constantly at odds with everyone around him. And while it seemed like the writers tried to soften him up in late end of Season 3, hoping to make him more sympathetic or relatable, it just didn't work for me. Any attempts to redeem Sparrow Ben fell flat, and he remained just as obnoxious as ever.

Frankly, I'm convinced that the only reason the Umbrellas kept him around was because he looked like their beloved Umbrella Ben. If it were up to me, I'd have left his ass somewhere along the way, probably "accidentally" letting him get swallowed up by the Kugelblitz or one of the many other apocalyptic threats they faced. The Umbrellas' insistence on keeping him around felt misguided; he's not their Ben, and he's made it painfully clear he doesn't want to be part of their found family. I kept thinking, "Just let him go! He's not your brother!" The whole dynamic was forced and uncomfortable, and it's hard not to blame him for a lot of what went wrong this season. The group's willingness to cling to this hollow version of their lost sibling only made things worse.

Because let's be real, most of the things in Season 4 can be traced back to Sparrow Ben's actions or his selfish decisions. If they had just left him behind earlier on, half the disasters they faced might never have happened. The Umbrellas should have cut their losses instead of trying to see something redeemable in a character who had no interest in being part of their story. To me, the only decent Sparrows were Sloane and Marcus—characters who, unlike Sparrow Ben, showed some sense of loyalty, vulnerability, and a willingness to grow. Sparrow Ben was just dead weight, a constant reminder of what the Umbrellas lost, without offering anything meaningful in return. He is a prime example to show how none of the Umbrella's are willing to just let go of some things and move on.

The entire series of The Umbrella Academy revolves around one central theme: the siblings' refusal to let go of the past and accept things as they are. They're constantly clinging to old traumas, memories, and regrets, unable to move forward. This is why Sparrow Ben's antagonistic personality is in a way important to the storyline. If he had been as loving, kind, and brotherly as Umbrella Ben, his role as the catalyst for the Umbrellas' downfall would have made no sense. Sparrow Ben's cold and selfish nature was a direct contrast to what the Umbrellas once had, highlighting just how much they were still trapped in the past, desperately trying to hold onto something that was long gone. So even though a lot of us might absolutely loathe this character, he role was a reminder that you can't recreate what you've lost, no matter how hard you try, and this refusal to accept that truth is what ultimately led the siblings down a destructive path.

Rewatching the series with this context makes Umbrella Ben's death feel even more important. On its own, his death is a heartbreaking and tragic moment, a sudden loss of a beloved character. But when viewed within the entire narrative arc of the series, it transforms from a purely sad event into something more complex—almost a bittersweet relief. I believe now that Ben's death was a subtle foreshadowing of how the story would ultimately end. It was a powerful hint at the series' overarching message about the necessity of letting go. Ben's journey was a microcosm of what every character needed to learn but often resisted—the painful but necessary act of moving on.

Ben was the first sibling to accept his fate, to realize that holding onto people, memories, and pain when it's time to let go is not only unhealthy but self-destructive. His decision to let go wasn't just about moving on from his own death; it was about ending his cycle of self-inflicted suffering. He recognized that by clinging to the past, he was only perpetuating his own misery. His final act of release allowed him to find peace, breaking the cycle and allowing his spirit to finally move forward. This stands in sharp contrast to the rest of the siblings, who repeatedly fall into the same patterns, unable to break free from their own personal demons.

To break the cycle, you must be willing to let go, just as Ben ultimately did.

[coquexari]

Happy birthday!

Specifically the lemon sleep deprived Athena was looking at.

Is there a deeper meaning? Is it an inside joke a reference? Do I have to analysis it like my 9 grade English novel study? Or is it just to spite me (also severally sleep deprived) and looking for an answer would be fruitless. As mister hippo of FNAF said "sometimes a story is just a story"

*deranged laughter*

*inhales* I'm ok. I think.

Figured out the sirens name :)

Happy birthday once again!!!!!!

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, I, uh, y'know, I - I - I don't feel too bad about it. After all, if it weren't for me it would've just been from someone else, y'know? I guess what I'm trying to say is life - life goes on. Well... Well for everyone else life goes on. Not - not for you.. uh.. You're dead. That's neither here nor there.

It reminds me of one summer day in the park. I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville, and I said to him - I said "Orville, I-I have a story."

And he said to me "What's the significance of the story?" and...

I said to him "O-Orville, not every story has to have significance, y'know? Sometimes, uh, y'know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says you'll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - Wasn't pretty. We talked about it for years. And not only that, but you'll likely end up believing something you shouldn't believe, thinking something you shouldn't think, o-or assuming something you shouldn't assume, y'know?"

Sometimes I said "A story is-is just a story, so just be quiet for one second in life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I'd made sandwiches.

Poor Orville was... having such difficulty eating it. Elephants have those clumsy hands, y'know? Actually, I-I suppose that's the problem. They don't have hands at all, do they? The-they're all feet! An-I-I couldn't imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet.

Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I said to him, "Orville, let me go get you some rye bread." Now, I-I'm unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does.

Now this was on a Tuesday, which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday... or rather they sold it at a discount for people wanting to feed the ducks, and probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out - I don't recall.

I do remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, y'know, you're not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, uh.. at least... at least that's what I've heard. Y'know I-I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in the duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh - and I told Orville this as well - "If you wanna feed ducks, or birds, or any kind for that matter, it's best to buy seed."

I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don't occur in nature. They don't grow on trees, or spring up from the bushes. I don't think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying?

Oh-oh, yes yes.

So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was.