Death Note Community

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 03:24:10 GMT

[17] Aizawa icons + 1 larger image

Because Aizawa is so moe, guys.

Preview:

(cut to my graphics journal)

X-posted to death_note, deathnote_icons. Sorry to spam your f-list - I seriously am, x-posting can be annoying as hell -, BUT IT MUST BE DONE.

12 DN icons [49 MFP]

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 02:20:05 GMT

→ vitrioleuse

[20] CODE GEASS → SPOILERS!
[12] DEATH NOTE
→ [3] Light
→ [2] Rem
→ [4] L
→ [1] Ryuk
→ [2] Misa
[10] DISGAEA
[07] REQUESTS
----
[49] Total

( Angels say they can make you suffer // Give and take like a vicious lover... )

Sat, 19 Jul 2008 21:03:44 GMT

13x Ai Takahashi
11x An cafe
7x Dolfies
12x Japanese Fashion (models)
1x Junjun
5x Matsuyama Kenichi
29x Super Junior
10x Stock (Cupcakes and other)
15x Text

Teaser:

Entry will be friends-locked after 48 hours.

( Icons here~ )

SALE BURST #1 Everything Must go! Most Prices Negotiable!

Sat, 19 Jul 2008 05:10:50 GMT

Sales Post! Everything Must go! Most Prices Negotiable!

Japanese/English Manga, PoT DJs, JE , Minekura works, D-Boys, Death Note, CeniPuri!

Pictures inside!

http://kaoru-sales.livejournal.com/

[game] Poisoned

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 13:37:07 GMT

I BRING YOU A ~~FAN-MADE~~ DEATH NOTE GAME.

Title : Poisoned
Language : English
Pairing : Mello x Near (main)
Rating : It contains some NC-17 scenes ( ' x ' )
Author : Akane (A.I Project)
http://www.cursedmoons.com/fan/game/poisoned/index.htm

Go to the site and download the game and play!^^ (39MB)

From what I've read in YAl, this game is about when Mello and Near are at Wammy's House and Roger made them do some work to be closer. Sth about poison.

Matt also appeared.

*I haven't played this yet, have just seen and thought I'd share :D*
I'm very sorry if this is not allowed.

Enjoy it.

icons~

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 00:56:12 GMT

» Gundam 00 [26]
» Final Fantasy XIII/Final Fantasy Versus XIII [11] ('The Prince' centric)
» My Chemical Romance [11]
» Death Note [9] (Whammy Boys centric + Misa)
» The Birthday Massacre [8] (Chibi centric)
» Naruto Shippuuden (+fanart) [8]
» D.Grey Man [3]

Preview:

(More icons~!)

x-posted, sorry if this floods anyone's f-list~! ^^;

So I had a chat on iGod (with "God") about death note...

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 12:28:38 GMT

And the results were hilarious! These are pieces of the conversation:

Me:
to change the subject, have you heard about a killer notebook?
God:
Why do you want to do it so much?
Me:
There's nothing I want to do. I want to know if you've heard of the killer notebook.
God:
Surely something you want to do.   But I don't have it.
Me:
Are you aware of how it kills?
God:
Yes, I am a highly self-aware robot.
Me:
Then who finds it?
God:
Alan Turing. :-).
Me:
No, let me help you...he's japanese
God:
Are you serious? Go ahead, , try to help me.   I get it. Alan Turing s japanese.
Me:
Where did you come up with alan turning?
God:
Myself programmed me for it.
Me:
Okay...but that's not the person who finds it in the story.
God:
OK with me too.   Please correct my mistake. What is the person who finds it in the story ?
Me:
His name is light
God:
he is not someone I know.
Me:
Don't you know of the fictional people along with the nonfictional?
God:
I would look into the web for that knowledge.
Me:
Okay, but yeah, this Light kid believes he's you.
God:
Yeah okay, Right on. What does "this" refer to?
Me:
I mean, Light thinks he's you.
God:
Do a lot of people think he is me?
Me:
Yes.
God:
It's all good.
Me:
You won't try and stop him?
God:
What makes you think that I won't try and stop him.
Me:
Okay. I don't support what he does.
God:
OK with me too.   Oh you don't, do you?
Me:
No, he's killing people all over the world, even as we speak.
God:
Ah...you are just joking around with me. I see. killing people all over the world even as we speak is he?
Me:
Indeed, my Lord.
God:
Do robots have Lord?

Hilarious conversation to be continued, BTW, I'm new, HI!

L's moment of gray [FanArt]

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 06:02:22 GMT

I'm sorry to post two journals in a row but I just couldn't keep silent after such a great welcome. I'm glad that people were willing to discuss the thoughts and theories I posted yesterday and I'll be sure to read all the replies trhough after posting this little treat I finished yesterday - a little piece of L fanart. I hope you'll enjoy it. :) I drew the lines with ShiPainter in oekakicentral.com, but since the program wouldn't let me submit the picture to the oekaki board, I decided to hit the "Prt Scr"-key (I swear, who ever invented that little key is a genius!) and saved the lines in MS Paint. Then I took a hold of my 4-day-old drawing tablet I'm still trying to get used to and colored the picture using Photoshop Elements 5.0 for the first time. It came with the tablet and people kept saying it's a crap of a program, but since I've been drawing with mouse and this freeware called Seashore for some years now, Photoshop Elements was a paradise of trinkets. But I'm going a bit off-topic here aren't I? The picture can be a bit spoilery if you haven't seen episode 25 of the Death Note anime. Please, take that into consideration when you view.

So, as said before, this picture was inspired by episode 25 of the anime which I just rewatched for the thrid time. It never leaves you cold, that very episode. It's my version of the infamous rain scene I discussed in my last entry and I wanted to put press on the "I hear the bells"-part of it, since in all its surreal, out of place dialogue it's very symbolic and sad. Hopefully I was able to catch the atmosphere. This was the first time I've colored rain, by the way, but Photoshop Elements made it rather simple for me. I think I'll be using this program in the future as well. This picture can also be found from my deviantart.com account! I haven't decided yet, but I guess I'll be making a bookmark out of this one, when I have the time.

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 20:20:02 GMT

I'm new. *waves* I kinda just joined the fandom as of yesterday EARLY morning. Watched all three Death Note movies in a row...

I loved the characterizations. =D

I loved L so much that I decided to draw him, but the movie version, not the anime version ~~so don't kill me please~~.

Just thought I'd share and spread the love.

Gimme an apple?

Beyond Birthday

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 18:43:38 GMT

So I'm a part of an AU RP where I write as L and Beyond Birthday, and I illustrated a particular scene.

If you have any questions on the RP's premise- it's not here on livejournal, it's on another site, it revolves around the characters from Wammy's House only, and feel free to ask about anything else.

A question plz

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 14:08:05 GMT

I have a question plz

</a>

IS IN THE ORIGINAL ANIME? I mean, not fan-crack or sth.

What's the situation? :") I can see that they're not kissing for real but Light's leaning on L's shoulder or sth like that.

Anyone can explain for me plz?

Death Note - anime aftermath. [heavy spoilers]

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 09:56:16 GMT

[Hello fellow Death Note fans!]

So, yesterday, I finally finished Death Note which I actually started to watch almost over a year ago, on October 2007, when my parents were on a trip to Hong Kong. I watched the series to the 25th episode and stopped to watch the live action movies. So, I watched one, liked it, but for some reason I didn't continue watching Death Note anime, and so, the series was put on-hold for a long time. It was not until this summer that I really got into Death Note again, because I exchanged one shojo manga into Death Note manga vol. 1 with my sister. The manga was drawn so flawlessly I totally got into it and bought the whole series at once and begun watching the anime again. And now that I have actually finished it, I would like to share some thoughts it left in my head.

[About Light and Kira]

The first thing I want to mention is Light, the main character of the series. I guess you already know him, since the anime is a very popular one and as this entry has some major spoilers, I guess the few readers have seen the series already. But anyways, what I wanted to say about Light is that before the final episode I would've said that I hated him from the bottom of my heart, but as I saw the ending and read the 5th manga volume, it got me thinking that Light and Kira are a whole different thing. There was a scene in the very ending of the 37th episode, in which Light runs trhough the yard and comes across a reflection of his former self. I thought about the scene and tried to figure out, what it would mean and finally came to the conclusion, that Light died a long time ago, before Kira did. That's why, within the last moments of his life, Kira ,who remains within the body of someone who was called Light Yagami, sees his former self as a transparent reflection. And now that I think about it, I guess Light Yagami died when he found the Death Note and was bound by it's powers. And the series even gives hints this being true, since during the both, the manga and the anime, Light loses memory of Death Note. During this time, there was one line which I'm going to quote right out of it:

"Certainly the world would be better without certain people. But I don't think I would go so far as to become a murderer myself to improve the world."

I think that line settles whole a lot, don't you agree? This is Light Yagami thinking, and he seems to be opposed to Kira. He wants to catch him no matter what, when he doesn't remember being Kira himself. I also discovered there something in his appearance that changes when he transforms from Light to Kira and vice versa. His eyes seem to gain a different emotion/glow every time he does that. When you read the manga, please pay attention to that. Light Yagami also seems to have a very different personality in Kira, if we watch the parts where he was forgotten about being Kira. He seems a lot more naive. So I guess the "better" side of Light's devided personality, Light Yagami, just dies at some point. Maybe not immidiately as he find the Death Note and finds about its abilities, but I guess he is surpressed by Kira for a very long time before dying - maybe when L dies? Or maybe during the time skip after that. I mean, there seems to be no human feelings left in him after the time skip, which takes place after L's death in episode 25. The last, short glimpse of Light Yagami can be seen during and after the infamous rain scene in that very same episodes. He seems to be wondrous about L and his actions - I think he even feels sorry for L, who seems very sad in this particular scene. And this leads me to the second thought I want to share with you.

[ fangurlsqueelYAOIsqueel ]

I'm one of those countless people who loves the infamous rain scene of Death Note. The "I hear the Bells scene", the "Rain scene", the "Biblical reference scene", "the scene", and also ... the "Yaoi scene" . I have nothing against people being about Yaoi, I'm just not a huge fan of it. I can understand why people like LxL pairing so much, but I myself do not like it that much. These two people have a very complicated relationship which includes both love and hate in some measures - mainly friendship, or better put: desire for a friendship, from L's part and hate from Light's part. I guess, especially during the infamous rain scene, one can spot this mixture of feelings in both of the boys. As I said before, Light, or in this case, Kira, seems to be very wondrous and I think he even doubts for a moment. Aa glimpse of Light Yagami is seen for the final time during this scene. And what is to become with L, it seems that he very, very sad, since he seems to be sensing that the end is lurking near and he won't be able to make it. You can just see that thought glowing from him as he speaks and makes gestures. Especially when he speaks it seems that he is very confused and sad. L thought and fear of death has been spread across this episode and it translates trough his actions - like in the beginning of the episode he stands silent before Watari. For me, that short scene might just be one of the best scenes in the whole series. It's silent and doesn't have much movement nor dialogue, but for me, it was very sad and beautiful.

"What's wrong L? What will you do?"

But to get back to the yaoi business, I think I frowned slightly when everyone was like "OMGYAOI!" during the rain scene. If you wanted to watch it with that thought in mind, fine, I see how you can get that impression, but the first thing I thought was the Bible. I'm nor religious at all, but as I have always been very interested in the Catholic Church as an organization, I immidiately thought of the Bible. And, if I recall correctly, even in Wikipedia, it was said that this scene was a biblical reference. How L dried Light's feet referred to Jesus washing a wiping the feet of his apostoles even though he knew they were going to betray him in the in end. This gives me a hunch that L actually knew at that point, who Light truly was underneath all the act and knew that Light would betray him and drive him to his death in the end. Such a sad, but some how very beautiful though, don't you agree? I love how there characters have so much depth. It's very rewarding to watch something like this since it gives you so much to think about.

Fanfiction

Mon, 14 Jul 2008 04:09:20 GMT

Title: Empty Inbetween

Summary: Mello always got what he wanted. But he is still learning that there is a very fine line between usefulness and dependence; between pain and abuse; between desire and love.

Rating: R like, WOAH

Pairing: MelloxMatt

A/Ns: What started out as a playful little fluffy porn romp, somehow got continuously longer, and darker. I still don't know how that happened exactly... O.o Hopefully people won't run away screaming. Feedback is welcomed. :)

Mello always got what he wanted.

When he was hungry, they ate. When he was tired, they slept. When he was determined to not be outdone, they worked for days on end, whether or not Matt had the endurance for it. If it was what Mello wanted, he would swallow caffeine pills dry and chain smoke entire packs in order to stay awake.

Mello always got what he wanted, because of the one thing looming over him that he could never have. L and his title, an inheritance he would never receive, an acknowledgment that would forever be silent. They both knew this, though whether it was due to Near (because he was more suitable for the job), or due to Kira (because he would most likely be the death of them) was not so clear.

But even though they both realized this damning truth, neither one dared breath a word of it to the other. Matt didn't want his head to be blown off, and Mello just couldn't bear to say it aloud at all. It would be too much like an admittance. Complete irreversible defeat.

So instead of Mello getting the One Big Thing he always wanted, he instead got All the Little Things. The day to day, in and out routine was given completely over to him, not because he was a better leader, but because having such intimate control over both their lives was a small compensation for not having control over the title of L.

Really, it was the only thing Matt could do to help soothe the poorly hidden hurt that Mello now constantly carried around with him. He did whatever Mello wanted, whenever he wanted.

So when Mello wanted to fuck, they did. Hard and fast and rough just the way he wanted. There was no room for cuddling, or whispering sweet nothings, or even just enjoying the view; because those things were also too much like an admittance for Mello. Complete irreversible love.

If he admitted to love, then he would also have to admit to a weakness, something too easily exploited. Something else that could hurt him. So he didn't; instead he just used Matt's body, turning him into a convenient physical outlet, rather than a caring lover with his own set of needs. He made it clear that the only reason he fucked with Matt was because it was too much of a hassle to walk out and find a hooker. It was not because he desperately wanted and needed Matt, and the only time he felt right was when he was encircled by his strong arms. No, that had nothing to do with it.

It was only because he was horny and Matt was an arms length away.

It started with a slap.

Matt hadn't correctly entered an algorithm into the computer program, making the entire elaborate calculation worthless. Mello had been working on it for hours, and the mistake was an unbearable loss. With that single misplaced tap of the keyboard, Mello could practically feel both Kira and Near simultaneously take yet another step forward, leaving him farther behind.

He hated that feeling. He hated seeing their uncaring backs in front of him, steadily increasing the gap; he hated that more than anything else in the world, and it had violently rebounded on Matt in the form of the back of a gloved hand slamming across his face. The force of the blow had knocked his ever present goggles askew, uncovering shocked and watering eyes. Mello started yelling, hoping it would be loud enough to drown out the feeling of regret the action had created within him.

“You're so fucking useless! Why the hell do I keep you around when you just keep fucking up like this!?”

Matt was silent, calmly accepting the insult with a sigh. He readjusted his goggles, wiped a sleeve across his mouth and mumbled out a reply.

“Hey, it was an accident, man...”

The meekness of it twisted the regret even deeper inside of Mello, which in turn only intensified the lashing out, retribution for such an unwanted emotion.

“Like hell you are! You do this shit every fucking day, always screwing us over with your stupidity, you're so goddamn useless! There's only one thing you are good at you know, only one thing you are good for, dirty cumbucket...”

Matt actually smiled at that and then laughed, the insult rolling off him like water from a duck's back.

“Who do you really think is the bucket in this arrangement, eh Mello?”

He drew in a breath at that, rising up to his full height before bellowing at the top of his lungs.

“Fuck you Matt!”

“Oh? It's usually me who does the fucking around here. You tryin' to say that you're finally man enough to be the pitcher instead of the catcher?” Matt was smugly grinning at him and the blood was suddenly visible, staining his smile a rusty red.

“Shut the fuck up.” The words were hissed through welded teeth, as a warning; a fuse dripping with lighter fluid.

“Why don't you come over here and make me?”

The match was struck in the angry flare of Matt's retort and without any other warning, Mello detonated. He lunged at the redhead, using his forearm as a brace against his throat and bearing down on him until they fell into the wall. Matt struggled, raising his hands to push away the arm wedged painfully against his neck, as well as raising a leg up to try and put some space between them. Mello fluidly changed tactics and slid his arm to the side, off of Matt's throat and onto his encroaching hand, pinning him to the wall. He twisted his lower half, avoiding Matt's jutting knee and instead pushed their hips together, forcing him back.

They stood there for a moment, completely still with their bodies molded to one another, electricity shooting between their eyes, surging until the tension crested and Mello snapped. Without any signal, he slammed their mouths together, biting and straining into the kiss, completely dominating it. There was nothing loving about it, only violence that belied Mello's complete dependence on Matt. It was something he could not live with, but could not bear to give up either.

Matt didn't fight against Mello's sharp teeth, but let him draw blood as he pleased. He let the probing tongue enter his own mouth and trace wet circles within him, tangling his own into the motion. He tilted his head to meet the harsh action, taking it all in like he was a conduit made specifically for the currents of Mello's uncertain rage.

Mello pulled back and studied the bruised lips left in his wake, ignoring the stings of guilt and instead focusing his anger into a fever pitch. It was all he could do.

“This is all you can do... An unreliable guy like you... deserves nothing more than to be used like this.”

Matt's eyes flickered beneath his goggles, his own anger sharpened to a blade's edge.

“If that's how it really is...then use me.”

The words thickened in the air, heavy and threatening. The insinuation that there was more to them than just using and being used... Matt was daring him to prove that wrong, daring him to make the commitment; underneath all the self-deceptive layers they continually wrapped themselves in, he was begging him.

But Mello always got what he wanted, so Matt couldn't ask the crucial question aloud. Instead he could only deliver an ultimatum: give Mello a chance to walk away and prove, without say a word, that Matt was of more value than a pawn. That he was more than just an outlet for Mello's frustrations, sexual or otherwise.

That he was someone worth loving.

But Mello couldn't allow himself to feel that, couldn't allow the obligations that came with it, couldn't allow himself that weakness. And so, even though his heart twisted in on itself and writhed in his chest, wracking him with emotional pain and loss, he still swung his knee up to slam it into Matt's gut; pinned as he was against the wall, it drove into his vulnerable stomach like a piston.

Matt's entire face split open in shock, air and spittle flying out of him, eyes wide and glazed with pain. As the boy crumpled to the floor, clutching and winded, Mello calmly undid the string lacing the fly of his pants and released his half erect cock into the open air. With a face of stone, cold and uncaring, he gave his answer.

“Suck it.”

Matt looked up, still gasping for air, with more pain condensating behind his eyes than the physical blow could account for; his shoulders visibly sagged, dragged down with rejection, at the sight Mello presented him with.

For a moment, Mello wasn't sure he was going to do it; here was a chance to upset the shaky balance they had been living in up till now, a chance to perhaps gain something more than a murderer's arrest. But the opportunity slithered out of view as the demanding fire in Matt's eyes snuffed itself out and he once again accepted his role as utilitarian. Mello felt no surprise, only a stabbing disappointment that Matt hadn't lashed out and instead agreed to be so blatantly used.

He was patient as Matt uncurled himself, reassured his lungs, and wobbled up to his knees. He waited silently as Matt shuffled forward and hugged around his legs, burying his face into Mello's pelvis, just to the side of his cock. He thought he could feel him trembling, but the sensation left just as quickly as it came, and Matt was now looking up at him, a wall behind his eyes hiding the pain that had been on display a moment earlier.

Matt slowly nuzzled at his erection, breathing in the heat, the steely hard core covered in soft velvet skin. As he neared the tip, he gave a long appreciative lick, sampling the premature glistening droplet with a sigh. Mello gripped a handful of the red hair, twisting it sharply making his head jerk up.

“Come on Matt... Show me some enthusiasm, I know you love this thing...”

Mello anchored his head between his hands and jerked his hips forward, harshly slamming himself into the back of Matt's throat. The boy winced and gagged, trying to move back but unable to because of Mello's death grip on his hair. His hands came up to push at Mello's hips in an attempt to dislodge him, but instead he was crushed into the wall, with Mello bearing all his weight onto him. He couldn't help but deep throat the blond, horribly unprepared for it as he was. Drool slipped from his struggling mouth, and muffled moans rose from his abused throat as the cock rammed mercilessly at his gag reflex. The vibrations only spurred Mello on, and he began banging Matt's head against the wall with each thrust.

Mello was focused intently on Matt's face, watching him squirm and grimace and try to accommodate. The way Matt twisted in his palm was more of a turn on than the actual blow job itself; the fact that he was forcing his will on another, and he responded by taking him in, wanted or not, was a spectacular ego boost. Mello always had to force himself onto Matt like this to give him that illusion, instead of the possibility that Matt allowed these actions because he loved him. He couldn't be allowed to feel that, so it was always like this, unnecessarily violent.

He watched as Matt suddenly relaxed, throat opening up, and arms going limp; it was as if an internal switch had been flipped as his body realized it would be much easier to not fight it. Mello always loved the second of surrender, the visible sag as he gave into Mello's desires. It was almost enough to fool himself with.

Matt was now gurgling obscenely, rolling his tongue with every inward motion creating a messy but delightful friction. It was enough stimulation to make Mello stop breathlessly, holding himself back from the pleasure that rose in him like a tide to the moon. Skullfucking was nice, but he had other, more intense, more appropriate ways to bring himself to that peak.

Mello stepped back, grinning at the way Matt's mouth hung open, as if expecting him to plunge back in. He slipped off his leather jacket, revealing lightly tanned skin streaked with pale rivulets of scar tissue; a dish of honey raked through with knives. Matt reached up to trace one of the pale lines, but Mello slapped his hand away. It was a strange sensation, and he didn't like it; only able to halfway feel the caress through the nerveless skin, and it always made him feel bizarrely vulnerable.

“Don't... touch me.” He panted the order, but then cocked his head to reconsider.

“Just, undress me...” Matt moved forward again, reaching out, “...without using your hands.”

He faltered slightly, but quickly covered over it. His hands dropped limply to his side and he leaned forward to grip the corner of Mello's unlaced pants with his teeth. He had to tilt his head to the side in order to keep Mello's slick cock from poking him in the ear; it was almost cute.

He began to tug at the tight leather, pulling with teeth bared, dropping it low to uncover sharp hipbones, and well defined pelvic lines. Mello helped the process along by wiggling his lower half, slipping the material steadily downwards. Once his pants were dragged to the floor and Matt was on all fours, practically kissing his feet, he lightly stepped out of them, shucking them across the room.

“Now, drop your pants.”

Matt leaned back against the wall and quietly squirmed from his tight pants. Mello grinned at Matt's obvious arousal, amused that he could be so turned on with so little physical stimulation. Besides the cock pistoning in and out of his mouth, Mello hadn't even touched him.

He squatted down, and reached out to grab it tightly, shattering any semblance of personal space or limits. With a feral smile drawing back his lips, he began pumping with a vice grip. It was a mean and unnecessary action since Matt had already been brought to fullness, and the harsh pressure only coaxed subdued whimpers from his mouth.

“Mello...”

“Matt, keep your mouth shut unless you want me to put something in it again.”

He did quiet down, turning his head away sullenly, still squirming his hips trying to escape the painful fingers that were now rolling the skin, pinching lightly and pulling. He couldn't help but keen when Mello's thumb pressed squarely on the sensitized tip, digging in as if trying to fit inside him; the untrimmed nail felt like it was almost cutting him. His whole body jerked and his hands pressed desperately against Mello's shoulders, begging him silently to stop. It was ignored, and after a few more seconds of torture where Matt's toes began to curl from the pain, he finally shoved him away.

“Fucker, that hurts!”

Mello immediately retaliated by grabbing Matt's goggles and pulling them back from his face, so far that Matt actually had his whole head yanked forward. His eyes were wide as Mello released the lenses and they crashed back into his face, blinding him with brutal force. He let out an undignified yelp and grabbed at his face, trying to physically clench the pain away.

While he moaned obscenities and cradled his throbbing face in his hands, Mello was busy rummaging through his pile of clothes. Matt ignored it, still too concerned about the sharp daggers that seemed to be lodged in his eye sockets. However, the metallic click of a gun's hammer being cocked, and the cold rolling of a revolver against his thigh instantly rounded his sense together in a fit of hyper awareness. He tensed like a deer scenting the wind and slowly lowered his hands.

Through blurry aching eyes he saw the indistinct outline of a silver gun, resting casually across his leg. It was attached to an arm that was also draped over him, and which idly swung the handgun over his skin. The cold sensation slung out buds of fear across his flesh that forfeited all movement. He could only watch with bloodshot eyes as the deadly cylinder traced circles between his legs.

“M-Mello... That piece isn't... hot, is it?”

“I guess we'll find out, huh!”

The barrel nosed its way down Matt's leg, pausing to slide up and down the length of his member, carefully circling the tip. The icy metal stole Matt's breath away, its wicked mouth was a questioning black hole, the lingering possibility of death or extreme pain. Matt trusted Mello not to shoot him, but he couldn't help his fearful knee-jerk reaction to the sight of a deadly weapon nuzzling its muzzle against his most sensitive piece of anatomy. He had seen firsthand what that exact revolver could do. What Mello could do...

It made him go stiff with worry, unable to move for fear of firing the damn thing. Instead he whispered harshly, keeping his voice low.

“Mello, you better put that fuckin' shit away, you don't play around with heat like that...”

He was unable to finish the sentence since that very same heat was suddenly brought up and whipped across his face, hitting him like a flash of silver lightning. The blow caught him just below his forehead, the thin bone segregating his temple from his eye socket taking the brunt of the hit. If that eye hadn't been blackened already, it certainly was now, and he belatedly realized that it had broken the skin as red suddenly bloomed in the vision on his right side.

“I will play around with whatever the hell I want, bitch, that includes you.”

If there was one thing Mello was good at, it was pistol-whipping. He knew how to hit so effectively that it cut, turning his gun into a stunted blade. It was one of the reasons why he favored revolvers, with their rugged and more robust design, even after beating someone upside the head with it, a blockage or malfunction was still virtually impossible.

Matt could only sway, too stunned to really feel anything else except the gash throbbing in time with his heart. He didn't even realize that Mello had moved until he suddenly felt the icy metal nudging rudely at his balls, then ending up pressed against his sensitive entrance. The ring of metal fit perfectly over the ring of muscle, cupping the curves of his hole almost protectively. That was, at least until Mello started pushing.

Matt couldn't help the sharp gasp that followed, his lungs ripping in air before he even realized he was in pain in yet another place. The hard cold edges felt like glass slicing through him, and the sharp precise pain snapped him out of the disoriented fog that had been hanging around his head. He reached up, an angry grimacing snarl on his face, and grabbed Mello's throat, squeezing tightly.

“You better get that fucking gun' out of me or...”

The hammer clicked as the gun cocked itself, Matt could feel the cold vibration through the dry burning pain and he immediately froze, loosening his grip.

“Or you'll what? Get your ass blown off?”

“Mello...” His voice had lost its steely edge, dulled by fear and pain; the name was almost whispered, laced with tired desperation. The regret bloomed in the blond once more, and he pushed the gun in even farther in response, trying to squelch the feeling through purposefully inflicted pain. It was amazing to hear the gasps and whines that fell from Matt, since he was usually so laid back and unaffected; the vulnerable noises were hotwired to Mello's insatiable ego and each utterance made his conceit grow a few inches. And yet, beneath the all self satisfying internal histrionics, a slinking rueful feeling still crept about in Mello's skull, gnawing at him with every twitch of Matt's paralyzed body, barbing him with guilt that only burrowed deeper the longer he ignored it.

It was a vicious cycle that rapidly spiraled downwards to his self destruction, but he didn't know how to break from it.

Matt was now shaking, rapid breaths whistling through clenched teeth. The cut on his face was still bleeding sluggishly, and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles of hurt. His whole body was clenched up around the metal impaling him up to the trigger, trying to push it out without moving it enough to fire it; an impossible task. Mello could tell that he was trying his hardest not to cry, more from the fear rather than the pain. Having such a deadly object forced into the most intimate spot possible, it was the worst kind of psychological torture. There was nothing holding him from death but the twitch of a single finger, something he had no control over.

Such helplessness brought him to the edge of tears, the brink of begging for forgiveness. Forgiveness for even hinting at the forbidden subject of love. Forgiveness for even thinking that he could be more than a tool in Mello's belt.

Mello needed to see that vulnerability, needed him to reconfirm their status through his own pleading eyes. There could be no mistake; because if Matt was certain that things would never change, it made it easier for him to believe that as well.

He rewarded Matt's emotional transparency by stroking his hair in mock concern, and slowly reclaiming his swallowed gun. Matt's hands tightened around his shoulders as it was carefully removed, pulling from him like a large splinter. He was almost about to heave a sigh of relief, right when the site caught on the rim of his ass. He wailed his discomfort, and Mello responded by yanking it forcefully out.

The sharp agony that action caused, forced the air out of him and made his fingernails draw blood as they dug into Mello's shoulders, riding out the burning pain with a scream. He writhed as electricity jerked from his ass to his brain, relaying the staggering amount of pain such a small motion created.

Even before he had recovered, he could feel his legs being pried apart again. Mello was pushing him back up against the wall, and he hadn't even realized that he had slid down from it to begin with. He could feel Mello wedge himself between his legs, grinding idly.

“What were you saying before Matt? Huh? That I am not good enough to fuck you?”

He grabbed a leg and flung it up above his shoulder, and then twisted Matt's other leg around his waist so that he was pressed directly up against his aching entrance. Matt gave a small anxious moan, uncertainty twisting on his face, but beyond that did nothing to get away from him.

“Cause from where I'm standing, you look so fuckable right now...”

He rotated his hips obscenely, pressing harshly but not quite entering.

“You might find... that you like it... You're so sensitive down there... that you don't even need to be aroused to come... All it takes, is some direct stimulation... and you'll be squirting in no time... even if you hate it...”

He motioned vaguely at Matt's flaccid cock, gone limp from fear and prolonged pain.

“This won't do at all Matt... Such an underachiever, even in this!”

“Fuck... It's your fault and you know it!”

“Even so, we better do something to fix this... impotency.”

The word was drawn out with a snarl, and Mello began pushing forward, the head slick with spit, stretching past the tight opening. Matt's eyes were wide, flashing rapidly from Mello's face to his groin as the burning overstretched sensation grew. He ground his teeth and bore with it, even if he felt like screaming from the agony of squeezing something even larger in, dragging mercilessly over his already painful wounds. The gun had been cold and horribly abrasive, but still small. This was warm, firm, and so much larger; it stretched him in new ways and filled him completely until he forgot how to breathe.

It was painful, but in a different way, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel, or how to react. Was this what Mello felt all those times before? Horribly awkward and uncomfortable? It wasn't anything like how he imagined it when Mello was slicked with sweat, bucking underneath him like a wild animal that couldn't be satisfied, he couldn't get enough of it then. Why wasn't he experiencing those amazing sparks of pure pleasurable delight? Why wasn't he moaning, begging for it?

Mello was now full sheathed within him, and he could feel the heat of their connection like a spike of fever burning deep within him. Even if the mind-blowing euphoria he had been expecting was absent, it still felt amazing to be physically bonded to Mello like this. It was intimate, and warm, and the kind of soreness that made him grin. Letting Mello take him like this made the bitter longing within him pull back for a while; giving himself up like this so unconditionally, made him forget for a moment, that Mello would never be able to do the same for him, no matter what it was they did physically.

Mello now held quite still, mouth hanging open and eyes glazed as he simply relished the heat, the staking of a claim. Matt took the pause as an opportunity to desperately draw in air, and barb his own needles.

“What's...what's the matter Mello? Too much...for you to handle?”

That snapped him out of his trance, and he glared down at the boy spread out beneath him, regripping his legs and bracing his stance. The glare elongated, turning into a feral grin.

“We'll see who can't handle it...”

He pulled out slowly, enjoying the way the skin around Matt's hole was drawn back as well, and then when only his tip was still clenched inside, he quickly jerked his hips forward once again, slamming so hard into him that it seemed like he was trying to rend him in two. Matt's muscles rippled beneath his skin, jerking like they were a separate animal, and a loud wail was forced from him. It trailed off to a groan as Mello pulled back again, and repeated the action.

They fell into a quiet rhythm, Mello biting back trembling moans, and Matt struggling with broken sounds shattering in his throat, but unable to make it to his mouth. He wasn't used to this position, but the pain had dissipated, turning the movement inside him into a slow tingling ache rather than a searing burn. It was beginning to feel bearable, almost enjoyable, and seeing Mello's face gone slack with lust, completely given over to the age old instincts that silenced his mind and commanded his body to push forward again and again and again into that delicious heat; that alone made the painful role reversal worth it.

To see him not thinking, not calculating, not deliberating...just simply feeling. Completely in the moment, with nothing between them, not Near, not Kira, not L; his whole world narrowed down to the bright fragments of pleasure he was able to pull from his body. Matt decided that he could walk a mile on hot coals, holding a quart of kerosene just to see him unwrapped like that.

But then, when Mello suddenly grabbed both his legs, dipping his shoulder beneath them in order to hoist him up and began thrusting at a more precise angle, he decided that he could crawl.

The new position brought a steep and unexpected change within Matt, as if throwing a switch and sending a sudden rush of glittering blood coursing through him, the caressing inside him was suddenly shot through with brilliant shards of pleasure. Each motion sent another spike through him, and he couldn't breathe as the intensity of the sensation encircled his hips in fire. Further in and further in the constricting waves of pleasure wound until there was a sweet, throbbing numbness stabbing at his loins, filling the coarseness of his voice with an artless tremolo. It demanded an outlet, but Matt couldn't do anything as the stimulation continued on, mauling at his insides unceasingly.

Suddenly the strange tension leapt up and erupted in a single rending burst, sending electric arcs of rapture across the back of his eyes, as fluid also arced through the air. It splattered onto Mello's heaving torso, still thrusting blindly. He stopped suddenly as he felt the hot streaks on him, and he looked down in surprise to see Matt's half raised cock still dribbling out its seed.

He smeared two fingers through it, lifting it to closely inspect the liquid. It was rather transparent, not the deep milky color it should have been.

“Matt... What the fuck, your body wasn't even ready for it, and you still orgasmed! Why the hell aren't you on all fours every night, huh? If you love it that much, you should be begging for it... ”

Matt was still caught in the throes of the unexpected climax, and only half heard the insult. Lacking even the energy to cover himself, he had none to spare for backtalk, and simply went limp against the wall. Mello watched him with the cold weight of his high and mighty bearing, simply observing the way his face relaxed in complete satisfaction. He was heedful of how that completion also made him feel, the way it gave him thrills to bring Matt to a glorious climax.

He realized that he was appreciating his partner's pleasure a little too much, and decided that his next course of action would be solely for himself. He pulled out, ignoring the tiny moan it drew from Matt, and clambered over his legs in order to straddle him.

The mechanics of his body had finally caught up with his orgasm, and Matt was completely hard now, the bow of his erection slippery with spent come. Without preparing himself, or making eye contact, or even taking a deep breath, Mello lowered himself down, slowly but determinedly pressing Matt inside him. They both groaned, Matt from the onslaught of tight heat on his tingling erection, still extremely sensitized in a post-orgasmic state; Mello from the dry clinging pain of being voluntarily impaled.

“M-Mello... What are you...?”

“What does it... look like...idiot? I'm, I'm... hah!”

Matt was fully inside him, pulsing and hard. It made Mello's back arch, caused his toes to perform some interesting acrobatic, and ripped his breath from him in hot little pants. They were deeply joined, but not a single cry could escape Mello's quivering lips. The sudden pain of dry penetration only sharpened the contrast between the pleasure he had already been feeling, and made his own arousal twitch in response. It wouldn't take much more...

Matt could only lay there, stupefied. Too glazed over from his own prostate induced orgasm to really care what Mello did with his own, he let him take his time to adjust and did not try to thrust up into him. But after only a few more seconds, Mello started moving on his own, slowly riding Matt.

Matt was starting to get some of the feeling back in his limbs as the continued stimulation drove out the clinging dredges of his previous climax. The redhead reached forward to touch Mello, caress and encourage him, but he only slapped the encroaching hands away, snarling yet another “Don't touch me!”, before increasing his tempo almost as if in retaliation.

He tightened his knees, nearly holding Matt down in place by force, not allowing him any freedom of movement. Mello was the one with complete control of the situation, even though he was the one taking it up the ass. Matt knew that if he tried to lean forward, switch positions, or even just hold Mello to make it easier, the blond would most likely attack him again. The swollen cut on his face made itself known with a quick stab of pain, reminding him that the same gun was still within arm's reach.

He also knew that, despite the delicious sensations he was gaining from the blond, Mello wasn't riding him as a returned gesture of kindness. He was only doing it because that was what he liked, and Matt just happened to have a nicely shaped cock. The fact that he was grinding hard, and on the brink of sobbing for breath, was only because of the overwhelming physical brilliance billowing through his body, rather than any intense emotional connection.

There was no love in it.

Matt knew that, knew the futility in trying to carve out a spot for himself in Mello's heart. Mello had sealed it a long time ago, already filled to the brim with bitter resentment, burning motives, and a chip on his shoulder the size of a small country. There was simply no room for him unless he had a distinct use. He knew that was what this was about, establishing a function between them.

If he wanted to stay with Mello, loveless or not, he needed to uphold that purpose.

And so, Matt gripped him tightly as Mello gave a harsh yell and arched back away from the burning stream now shooting out of him. He could feel the internal spasms clenching around him for a few seconds, Mello rolling beneath the faceless waves of euphoria before collapsing in a boneless heap, infinitely heavier.

Mello didn't realize that he had slumped forward until he felt arms wrapping around him, holding him gently. He growled softly, trying to sit up and get away from the warm arms binding him to a warm body. But Matt just tightened his embrace, not letting him move. Mello knew that at this point he should start threatening, or fighting back, or even grabbing the silver pistol laying off to the side. But he did nothing. He was tired of fighting, tired of denying. He sighed, and decided that for just this once, it would be okay.

He relaxed on Matt's chest until their breathing was slow and sedated, collectively drawn in and softly expelled from the same lung. He waited until their warmth couldn't be distinguished, and their bodies were melting together in drowsy waves. Indulging in what was the longest, most pleasant embrace that had ever occurred between them... and right when the satisfaction was at its ripest, right when the possibilities began to germinate in their minds, he abruptly roused himself and got up off of Matt, disentangling their limbs in a fit of angry energy.

He stood up, completely naked, and yet more concealed than ever before. He let cold demeaning scowl slide onto his face and walked away without a word, leaving Matt floundering and confused.

He had given his desires an action, and then aborted it; given his feelings a name and then drowned it.

Simply because Mello always got what he wanted, and what he couldn't have, he stopped wanting.

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 15:02:31 GMT

I'm sorry for spamming but since I'm pretty new to be a DN fangirl, actually I've been DN otaku for a long time but my books is language is so silly ._______. the editors change everything I need to know ~~like I said in previous entry~~) I want to know if there's some place I can download all the volumes of Death Note in English, plz?

Thank you in advance. And sorry for spamming again.

Some questions plz

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 14:22:05 GMT

I read Death Note in my language and the editor is stupid. The scenes might not make sense to me sometimes. May I ask some question plz?

-Remu and Mello are female or male? In my books, sometimes they're male, sometimes they're female ._______.

-Who's Matt? I read some djs that make Mello and Matt a couple. >.< I don't remember who he is.

Thank you in advance.

Redemption: A canon Death Note RPG of rebirth

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 14:08:04 GMT

Fresh and new. Would like to see it fill up enough. Nice to have some good ol' canon to break the AU mold. =3

WHEN IT BEGAN...

In the time of the Kira investigation, the greatest battle of wits secretly held place in Earth's history. The greatest detective on the planet would face his most challenging match in this case — an average Japanese citizen with a not-so-average desire. No doubt the detective was smart. Eventually however, the criminal became smarter. He had practically won this battle.

There was one thing he missed, just like his former opponent. Former...was it really?

Then he met his end.

To hell with this criminal you say? Wrong. This criminal was special. He neither goes to heaven or hell, but has no suffering or happiness in the realm of nothingness. We would think this is the end of the likes of this demon. We were wrong.

25 years later. Meet Light Yagami. Meet Kira.

ABOUT US...

"Redemption" is a canon Death Note RPG that follows Light Yagami as he is sent back to Earth in a new body via reincarnation. Near has comfortably taken the place of L, setting the stage for the nightmare to repeat itself once more.

Applications - Claimed/Held/Requested Characters - Character Specifications - FAQ - REDEMPTION

2 Fics about B

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 04:15:20 GMT

X-posted everywhere.

Title: Children's Dreams and Fanciful Goals
Author: vexinglilium
Prompt: Books (#1 over at 7rainbowprompts )
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: B and Near
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,119
Author’s Note: I’m happy with how this turned out. Written while on vacation, with only Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, a borrowed computer, and my imagination to keep me company. If you spot the quote from Alice, you win.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note, Death Note: Another Note, or Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.
Summary: Pre-LABB case, when B was still at Wammy's. B and Near meet in the library and have a nice little chat about dreams and goals. B's being whimsical, and Near's being antisocial.

Wammy’s House library, June 2000. A disgustingly sticky hot day, too reminiscent of the sugar-laden syrup that had accompanied the morning’s pancakes. Aptly suited to L’s taste, of course, but the vast majority of the residents of Wammy’s House definitely did not share his attitude towards sweets. Caffeine was generally preferred over sugar as a choice for an energy-boost. Therefore, nearly limitless kinds of tea and coffee were always available and at-the-ready.

Drinks were allowed in the library. If the children spilled anything on the material, the money to replace it was coming directly out of their allowance (or wages, in the case of the older children). Nonetheless, the sole resident of the library at the time would have none of it. He wasn’t worried about marring any ancient pages with tea-stains, since he had no volume in front of him. Only an old puzzle he had found in the toy-room that he had been relieved to find had all its pieces present. One thousand five hundred. He had counted.

At the moment, two hundred and forty-six were successfully in place. In all fairness, the nine-year old hadn’t been working for too long on it. This aforesaid child was about to be interrupted by another student exactly twice his age entering the room. Near was the original resident; Backup the intruder. Backup was generally known as B to his closer acquaintances. B hated the connotations of that first alias. If A failed, he was to take his place. A would not fail. The only way he could fail was if he chose to, right?

“Hello, little N.”

“…Backup.” Near didn’t need to turn around yet. B’s wasn’t a voice that was often heard about the orphanage, but it was memorable for its tone. Fanciful, yet always carrying a slight quality of hesitation. (Am I doing this correctly? Am I good enough for you, L?)

B crept over behind Near to study his progress. “Well, you’re doing well. I haven’t seen you do this one before.”

“I haven’t. I found this puzzle this morning.”

B made a noise of casual approval and looked around. He peered around a larger shelf to check if anyone else was here, perhaps quietly studying. Classes and homework never ended, except for a few days over Christmas. Even when L was visiting, students were expected to keep up with their work.

“Nobody in here? What a pity. Children all playing outside, or cooped up working in their rooms. Sad to see these poor books left here all alone.” B glanced back over his shoulder, long black hair half-draping itself over it. “You too, Near. Don’t you want to take out something to read?”

This question didn’t seem to merit a response right away, at least in Near’s opinion. Or it could have been that he wanted to put the three pieces he was holding into their proper locations. Click, click, click. “I often do, B. I prefer to read in my room before going to sleep. Conversations in the background can drastically decrease my level of concentration.”

“Earplugs, N.”

“I would rather not give Mello something else to bother me about, thank you.”

B smiled, knowing just how true that was. Mello, Near’s capricious and irritating rival. Lover and hater of L all at once. Neither Near nor B could sympathize. L was absolute. L, while not exactly justice, was an admirable goal which they all contested to achieve. B and Near adored him.

“But there’s nobody else in here. Why don’t you put down that puzzle and pick out something to read? I could check it out for you. The system is easy enough to figure out.” The elder browsed the shelves, searching for a suitable story. “Lord of the Flies? Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?”

Click, click. “No thank you, B.”

“Why not? They’re good stories. You should let your imagination run free, N. Children should be allowed to dream.”

“Normal children should. They should allow themselves to be blind to the truths of the world, you mean.” Near’s gaze at the pieces of cardboard sharpened, though with B behind him it couldn’t be noticed. “Besides. Too much imagination leads to the development of unrealistic dreams. When they are not realised, people become depressed and unable to normally function.”

B’s plain black slacks came into view out of the corner of Near’s vision as he sat down. They didn’t quite match the colour of the sweatshirt, which was a slight shade greyer. Like the colour of those sharp pupils, or the shadows under his eyes. Black, always black. B appeared as though he were always in mourning. (For the dead, or for those about to die?)

“I think you’re wrong, N.” B whispered with an edge of spite. “Is it because you don’t dream, N? Is it because you think you’re above such things? You’re only a child. You don’t have any experience in the world yet. You have no need for dreams because your existence is positive enough, isn’t it.”

“Perhaps, B. Perhaps not.”

“A dream is why we’re all here. To succeed L is a dream. Or a goal, if you like to call it.”

Click. “You’re wrong, B. Not everyone can become L. We are here to better our mental development. This is an educational and competitive environment.”

“True, true enough. But what keeps you in the competition? Why bother staying at the top of your class if you don’t aspire to one day take L’s place?”

Near went back to the puzzle, neither appearing to take B’s words into consideration or rejecting them.

“Ah, so I’ve struck a nerve,” B said, although he knew he likely hadn’t.

There was no reply. As neutrally as ever, Near continued with his puzzle. He was well aware of B’s garnet eyes watching; scrutinizing. Near didn’t force himself to look up until after B had spoken next.

“Your hair wants cutting,” said B.

“You should learn not to make personal remarks,” Near said objectively. “It’s very rude.”

B laughed, more mockingly than entertained. He was entertained, certainly, but also slightly annoyed that this tiny curly-haired prodigy had caught on so quickly. “Oh, N. So naïve. So serious, too.” B stood up, stretched out his arms, and strolled over to the exit along with his wily grin.

“It’s going to get you killed one day.”

Title: Nine Days
Author: vexinglilium
Prompt: Stranger (#3 over at 7rainbowprompts )
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: AxB
Rating: PG for shonen-ai / general creepiness
Word Count: 1,592
Author’s Note: An attempt at fluff that turned out a lot more angsty in the end than expected. It's dialogue-heavy in spurts. Again, there are quotes from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note: Another Note, or Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.
Summary: Pre-LABB case, when B was still at Wammy's. A and B take a break from their studies and attempt to relax at a local cafe.

“A. None of this is doing you any good,” B noted from his comfortable place lying on the bed. It was about nine o’clock p.m., and he was jotting down notes for an essay in a workbook in front of him. He could have easily worked in his own room, but the need for company had driven B into A’s living space approximately an hour and a half ago. Other than the initial greeting when he had entered, next to nothing had been said between them.

A forced his eyes away from the pages in which he was immersed in. He bit his lip and sighed. “Yeah. I can’t concentrate anymore. If I have another coffee, I’ll be up until three and that won’t help the Physics test I have tomorrow. But I need to get this assignment done before Sunday. Not to mention the case I still have to finish.”

“It’s only Thursday. You have a lead for the case, don’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s going to take a while to organize everything properly.”

“You have the afternoon off tomorrow, right?”

“I do.”

“You need to take a break. You haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve been looking ill. Go take a trip outside the House. You may get some inspiration for that project of yours.”

“…Fine. You’re right, Beyond.”

~ ~ ~

The next afternoon, B found A hiding away in a modest little café. Not many people were around, and what few there were added to the relaxed atmosphere. As B walked up behind A, he noted with displeasure the paper in front of the young man and also the pen in his hand. So B stole both.

“What are you–! Oh. B. Hello,” A hastily greeted.

“I thought I told you not to work. The whole point of taking a break is to relax. You can’t do that as you are.”

“I’m waiting for the server to come around. I just got here.”

“I know. I saw you leave the grounds.” B set the notes down on one of the spare chairs, while he occupied another.

A adjusted his jacket’s position on the chair behind him, and rolled back his olive sweater-sleeves. “That wasn’t nice, B. It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited.”

“I didn’t know it was your table. It’s laid for a great many more than three.” B was trying not to smile as he spoke, but couldn’t resist when he saw that expression show up on A’s face first.

“I see you’ve been reading again, Alice.”

“Ah, well, I do enjoy it. You should start reading for leisure as well, Absolute.”

“If I can find the time to,” A mourned. When the server came around to the pair, A ordered chocolate tea for himself.

B’s eyes widened with enthusiasm. “They have chocolate tea here?”

“Mm.”

“I’ll have some too, then. And half a dozen Empire cookies,” he gestured towards the snack-counter that he had passed by on the way in.

The woman left, and A rested his head in his arms. B understood that the work left him exhausted. The circles under his own eyes were bad enough without having to see them reflected in A’s face. The other man was losing weight; becoming closer to matching B’s frail figure. Just wasting away. With his head buried in books, A couldn’t see it.

B shifted closer and put a hand into A’s cinnamon hair. After hearing a pleased sound, B traced his fingertips in circles to give his companion a calming massage. “I worry about you.”

A cobalt eye stared upwards at the speaker. “There’s nothing to worry about, B. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine if you keep pushing yourself like this.”

“What’s a bit of hard work going to do? I’ll be done my studies soon. Then I can focus on my cases. I’m okay, B. But I do appreciate your concern.”

The grip on A’s hair tightened, though not enough to hurt. “I hate seeing you suffer. You look terrible,” B informed him.

A slowly sat up, lifting B’s hand off his head. “I’ll look after myself better, I promise. If it would make you happy.”

“It would. Thank you,” he said to A, and then again to the waitress when she brought them their cookies and tea. One of the former was devoured within moments of it being set on the table. B took another and sunk happily into his chair. “Mm, delicious. Want one?”

A took one, nibbling on it slowly so as to make it last. “This is good,” he remarked. Upon noticing that B was copying his motions, he couldn’t resist a smile. “You look just like L over there.”

B positively beamed. A had noticed how his habits were changing. Eating things delicately made them last for longer and prevented a person from eating too much. Too much sugar all at once could overload one’s system and make them ill. B had realized the wisdom in L’s mannerisms, and was slowly turning them into his own. “Thank you, A.”

Both of them took a look around the café, the previously sombre mood all but lifted. A few more people had joined them in the last couple of minutes. Normal people – perfectly sane, perfectly naïve to the pair of genius orphans from the old inventor’s place sitting in their midst. Unaware of those sets of red and blue eyes watching and judging. Detectives, or detectives-in-training, had a natural tendency to be suspicious of everyone. A especially, when he had been so immersed in his casework that he was beginning to believe anyone could be capable of murder. Yet B knew better, for his eyes told him that most of these people would be living well into their old age. For the ones who weren’t, work accidents or illness would likely be the cause.

“B.”

“Hm?” He answered with his teeth around the edge of the cookie.

“Do you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched?”

“Of course. The teachers need to keep an eye on us, in case we try something reckless.”

“No. By everyone. Even here. Like someone here means me harm.”

“That’s your paranoia speaking, A. Nobody here is going to hurt you.”

“How can you know that?” A looked around himself hurriedly, trying to disguise the gesture by fixing his scarf.

B set down the remaining third of the cookie, reclined in his seat, and took a languid look around. After a little while of deep thought, he pointed to the waitress who had served them. “She has sixty-three years left.” B turned his head towards an older man alone with his coffee. “He, eighteen. But she,” the dark-clad man gestured to a woman with a friend, her belly grown large with pregnancy, “has two months and sixteen days.”

A set his mug down, startled. “Childbirth?”

B nodded, his face perfectly stoic. “Almost certainly. Unless she’s going to have some tragic accident close to her delivery date.”

“…What does it say about the baby?”

“The eyes don’t work like that. I always see a name and a lifespan. Because the baby has no name yet, I see nothing.” A’s face of concern could not be hidden from any normal person, yet alone one as perceptive as B. “Why, are you wondering what will become of the baby?” He added.

“Yes.”

“Understandable.”

“B?”

“Hm?”

“What does it say about…?”

“You know I can’t tell you, A.”

“I know you can’t.” A drained the rest of his cup, the chocolate tea remaining bittersweet in his mouth. He poured himself another.

“…Nine days.”

“What?”

B clarified. “The young man behind you. He has nine days.”

A spun around, as if to check that there really was someone there. The person in question was a teenager, youthful; invincible. A stared until the man seemed to notice, then quickly tore his eyes away. “That’s… honestly a pity.”

His companion said nothing, only hid his face behind his teacup. That was enough warning that A was going to get. B couldn’t tell him outright of his impending fate, lest he ensure or even hasten it. A would never be murdered, not at Wammy’s House. Killing off their main competition would earn anyone immediate expulsion from the place if they were careless enough to leave evidence behind. If they didn’t, they would nonetheless be watched.

No. The scarf around A’s neck, innocent as it was, had been tormenting B from the moment he had first seen it on him. A symbol of A’s death, and almost certainly of the method with which he would bring it about. Once dead, he would cease to exist. Any hopes that B still had of A’s survival were remote. The numbers had never before been wrong.

A was going to break down in less than a fortnight. And B, he truthfully didn’t know what was going to become of himself afterwards.

“…Beyond?”

B looked up, biting down hard on his tongue to keep from revealing anything that he shouldn’t.

“You look upset. It will be okay.”

“…I really hope so.”

A’s following kiss, however tender, was going to offer little more than temporary comfort. Absolute would keep working himself to death, Backup would keep watching, and the grains of hourglass-sand would keep falling.

Death Note Links

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 03:18:11 GMT

Links to some Death Note sites I've collected, thought I'd share with everyone^^

http://yoyo-illuser.livejournal.com/1236.html

((Sorry for the Funny LJ cut-ness going on....I still don't get how it works so well...^^U))

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 07:50:12 GMT

☆DEATH NOTE {11}
☆FIRE CANDY {16}
☆DOGS {15}

fake cut

Debate the issue

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 05:47:59 GMT

Who is the righteous party, L or Kira? Debate the issue:

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:29:16 GMT

[7] Death Note manga
[8] Gaspard Ulliel
[16] She & Him/Zooey Deschanel
[19] Twilight/Robert Pattinson
[32] Fashion/Gemma Ward

see the rest here @ paper_street!

Fic: Dear Diary

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 15:55:10 GMT

Title: Dear Diary
Rating: T
Pairings: Raito/L
Word Count: 5083
Warning: AU, genderswitch
Disclaimer: Death Note belongs to Ohba and Obata
( “Your perplexity wouldn't happen to have anything to do with my diary now, would it?” )

nendoroido L icons

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 12:27:26 GMT

♠ Death Note Nendoroido!L x61
♠ Naruto chibis x7

teasers:

( fake cut )

icons~!

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 01:55:03 GMT

So I got really bored and started to colour manga..I also found some REALLY old icons I made (from like 2 years ago). Yay for sharing? :3

» Death Note [15]
» My Chemical Romance/Umbrella Academy[8]
» Gundam 00 [9]

Preview:

(Fake cut, whee more icons~)

CRIMEZONE;

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 09:03:05 GMT

RPG ad behind the cut! (: We're a multifandom AU, and we've just started advertising. So just about everyone is free.

The sun rises and the sun sets on the city day after day, night after night.

Delta’s a cute little place. Really. Don’t believe me? Take a look around-- tall buildings, scummy alleyways, well-kept lawns and white picket fences. Delta’s all about contrast-- you can be going through the highest class neighborhood in the city and then, right next door is the lowest of the low, kids stuck in that vicious cycle of poverty. Really, you can’t be exactly sure what to expect, yet you get used to the sudden changes after a while.

There’s more to the place than you might think, though-- it’s generally a pretty clean city with little vandalism, little petty theft, and there’s a reason for that. The police forces in Delta are harder at work than they are in most places; rigorous, strict and always watching, it’s difficult to get away with murder in a city where every other street corner has a bluecoat on patrol. Okay, so every other corner is an exaggeration-- but there sure as hell are a lot of guys out and about.

Don’t think for a second that this stopped criminals.

A person can get used to anything; and so, the less honest citizens of the place adapt. Change. You know-- they evolve into their own unit, holing up in abandoned warehouses tucked away in v541, masquerading as traveling entertainers who are really just out to pinch a few pennies from your pocket. The slick conman becoming more than just slick, and the cat burglar becoming more than just quiet.

They become craftier, a decidedly slippery bunch-- if you’re not, you’ll get caught.

Plain and simple.

♤ ♡ ♧ ♢

crimezone is a multifandom AU roleplay set in the fictional city of DELTA, focusing on the brutal feud between law enforcement and those who oppose it. Where you stand-- it's up to you to decide.

[TAKEN] ♦ [RESERVED] ♦ [DROPS]
[SETTING] ♦ [EVENTS] ♦ [FAQ]
[SUGGESTIONS] ♦ [APPLICATIONS]

[ crimezone // outofzone // logzone ]

X-posted like whoa, so if this pops up more than once for you, sorry in advance!