indecisionmaker

It was printed in an interview with Misa-Misa last week that she had always, always, always loved to play dress-up. This was true. When Amane Misa was a little girl, she would put on her mother’s high heels and toddle around, her older sister standing behind her to make sure she didn’t fall and hurt herself. She wanted to be pretty like the princesses in all her stories, because only the princesses got the princes and little Misa had decided it wasn’t worth the effort to be someone mediocre, to get someone mediocre, but she wasn’t going to be a nobody. She was determined to be a star from the moment she understood what i

“Sing, goddess, Achilles’ wrath, black and murderous, that pitched ten thousand Greek souls into Hades’ dark-“ “That’s not how it goes.” “You’ve never even taken a class on ancient literature. How would you know?” “Who ruled out the possibility that maybe I just happen to care?” “Nobody. You care about plenty of things. Video games-“ “Shut up.” One could correctly say that two boys sat together at the table, but there’s a certain dissonance today in the way they’re moving. The brighter-looking one, the warmer one, is writing instead of playing game

Jacqueline by Franz Ferdinand- Matt had an intensely frightening ability to return whatever emotion you showed with equal tenacity. He was a wonderfully perceptive individual, but Mello lived in constant fear of not being misunderstood. Matt loved Mello, and so he locked that bit away. It was better when you never took anything seriously, anyway. So fucking hilarious. Do anything. Won’t hurt, I promise. As long as you never ever leave. He still frightened Mello, a little bit. Mello couldn’t quite understand someone who wouldn’t fight. He couldn’t understand that Matt, the gamer boy, the striped one, his friend, had conv

Today she breaks, on the subway she sees someone- Someone who brings up too many memories. Only bears a passing resemblance, but it’s still too much. Too much, too soon. Too fucking soon. Shouldn’t have died so soon. She comes home, and remembers why she decided they wouldn’t have big knives in their house. Because of days like this. And she misses, she misses fearing for her life not from herself, but from the choices she followed because she followed love- she followed his ideal. His kind of justice. Followed it, did everything for it. And yet she doesn’t fear for her life at all, even though she’s standing here

He walks in, she says hello. He catches himself remembering the way things used to be, and he knows she’s doing the same. The shock of the pain would never dull. Time’s supposed to heal, but it can’t dissolve the shrapnel underneath the skin. Nothing can. He brings the cigarette to his mouth, and recalls the way he’d stop as soon as he got that look. Back when he’d known what it was to be complete. Before his life had been stolen. Before all beauty, all meaning, all trust and belief and love had been ripped out from underneath him by a goddamn notebook. She has to ask him to stop, and he does reluctantly. Her eyes

“L is dead.” the screen burned, it was black but it was SOMUCHMORE to him, inside it burned more than the flames, more than the day his parents died, more than the house and his parents and his books and his life he could burn like that. he would burn like that. fire was pretty; pretty, that is, if you didn’t mind the pain. the pain could be beautiful if you did it right, couldn’t it? breaks, like if you crack open a cut again and it bleeds all over, so pretty it makes everything that red color. Matt was in interesting boy; interesting, but too subservient. (maybe he came off a little too submissive; Mello used him,

Author’s Note: This one is from Near’s perspective, just in case you couldn’t tell, and “you” is Mello. --- Disclaimer: Last I checked, there’ve been no freak accidents and chains of luck that led to me owning Death Note. Therefore, still don’t. --- “I am to be the god of the new world!” To hear what Kira called himself, what Mikami called Kira, you would’ve snapped. Snapped, and the force of it all would’ve brought everything else down with you. You’d say God is so much more than any mere human could ever be, but that was always misguided of you, to believe what they told you

Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note. If I did, I would have my own money (LOTS of it, XD) and would therefore not be running out of chocolate. --- “Let me ask again. Do you or do you not think of yourself as a bad person?” Watari stood, and A flinched. He’d known he was in for this from the moment he made the stupid, stupid mistake of exposing himself. Granted, it was only for a second, but a second’s all it takes to detonate. As expected of him, being groomed for the position of L as he was, he tried to consider it from an objective standpoint… a selfish standpoint. Oh god, of course everything turned back to