#Mello's a second place brat

[redmelawashere]

Alright I got woken up at like 3 AM with FORBIDDEN MEMORIES™️ and remember that MelloNear literally had a fandom video game. What other fucking fandom has SHIPPING VIDEO GAMES.

I think it just hit me since recently I've been thinking a lot about how fandom spaces shift over time (especially as we have re-boots, live-actions, or other media that helps reinvigorate fandoms like currently with A:TLA) and honestly, MelloNear has had so many ups and downs and like…as someone who was in this fandom WAY too young and grew up with it I want to see how many people on tumblr, who were there in ye olden wild west days, remember the stuff I do and also for those of you who weren’t around back then but are big now, here’s the insane history that I remember:

1 - LiveJournal (LJ) and the LOST FICS LJ was initially one of the better places to find fics – but a lot of authors jumped ship when FF.NET started to take over and for other reasons that were before my time. Finding fics on LJ that haven’t been deleted was/is hard and their UI is trash I never could get a grasp on it. (The irony of FF.NET now being dead and people jumping ship to AO3 and Tumblr lol.) Astyzia_ii used to write really fucking good MelloNear stuff there. She was one of the first people I ever read that had insanely good Near characterization. Unfortunately, her account no longer exists. But some of the things she wrote were things like:

Near being a total brat (at the time, no one else was really writing Near like that. Including Near lying to Mello about being assaulted by other children at Whammy's, just generally putting him in his place, etc.)

Mello painting Near’s nails black (then this trope just went off on FF.NET and everyone was writing fics like that - I really like when stuff like this comes out of fandom)

Mello finding out that Near, despite being in love with him, thought Mello was so unapproachable he had sex with someone else (implied Giovanni) and Mello is basically confronting Near about it at a time when Near was treated as a prudish virgin in fandom

Finding each other in the apocalypse AU

Mello and Near being like high school sweethearts (salthearts?) and Mello wanting to go to a University in the BIG CITY but would ignore the offer if it meant staying with Near (and super tragic fic too. They pull over on a freeway after an argument about it and then Near just straight up gets hit by a car after pushing Mello out of the way 💀 and you don't know if Near survived)

And obviously, many more really creative AUs

2 - KurosakiAkane and VIDEO GAMES Akane, as Spanish artist and the original “cursed moons” drew some of the most viral and prolific MelloXNear doujinshis and EVEN MADE FANDOM VIDEO GAMES. Like I can’t believe I forgot about this. Akane literally made fandom yaoi video games and they were SO GOOD. What other fandom has shipping video games you’d think it’d be the norm I can barley wrap my head around it

Pretty sure her website (www.cursedmoons.com) is down so you can’t download them directly from there or see her full doujinshis anymore

Her DeviantArt account is still live so you can see some stills and teasers from her doujinshis.

Her LJ account is also still live but more so as an archive.

Her first game “D.nD Poisoned” can be downloaded here if you scroll to the bottom (but I haven’t checked the link so be wary…) but it was basically taking place during Whammy’s days, and yes, Mello has a knife cause he’s unhinged since those were just the times ig.

“D.nD Infection” was her second, unfinished game, which would have been when they were mid-Kira investigation post Mello blowing up the base. I found a website that hosts the short demo she released.

Her games literally inspired a new wave of AUs for the fandom in the fic department and she was just a titan who kept everyone together on all corners of the internet. When she decided to leave the fandom in like 2011 after 2010’s great FF.NET purge of M rated fics it kind of felt like the beginning of the end.  

3 - Doujinshis (fandom comics) Most doujinshi artists had their own websites and MANY were Japanese / Chinese translated into English (pretty sure Akane was the first one to create them exclusively in English...). There are so many archived on YouTube that I used to watch all the time. You can even still find some of Akane’s doujinshi’s on Youtube like:

January

Lost Innocence

The Last Birthday

Game Over

Chocolate Kiss

One of the ones that was most impactful on me was this one that I cannot remember the name of, and it wasn't by Akane, but basically Mello, freshly 16 trying to stay alive, resorts to prostitution, and the big revealer at the end is he’s just kind of left there, alone, opens up his hand and there’s a little white puzzle piece he stole from Near and pretty sure the last line was something along the lines of “no one else” and I just 😭

4 - Lost Art and the Famous Water Colours

A lot of that water-colour MN art you see floating around was from, if I'm not mistaken, a Chinese MelloNear artist and their website I think was just "w" or something and she had created 100s of MN art.

5 - ForbiddenSoul562 and FF.NET Beef and Fan Fic Rap Battles

Soul was one of the BIGGEST creators on FF.NET (and luckily, she’s still active both on FF.Net and here on tumblr!) I remember when she had like a fic battle with another creator FragilePuzzle (who is also on tumblr and active – but they post M-ll-M-tt stuff now and pretty sure they deleted all their MelloNear fics... Their active handle on tumblr is mizzmellos I think? Anyways, they’ve also switched from writing to art and its really good!) And there was like a whole “vote who you think wrote the better fic” and it was like Clash of the Titans. Shame that Fragile, as they used to go by, doesn’t like MN anymore since they also wrote a lot of really good stuff. When Fragile stopped posting and Soul went on an extended hiatus that also felt like another beginning of the end loooooool (pretty sure Soul and Mzz had an interaction here on tumblr reminding each other of each other and I had so much social anxiety I was like headbanging watching this interaction go down and if I'm remembering correctly it started cordial but didn't really end well but I could be 100% misremembering the tone of the interaction but if you dig through Soul's tumblr you can probably find it or mzzs for that matter.) 6 - Kids Writing Dark Tropes

I feel like I should make another post and just…describe how Mello and Near were portrayed individually and in a relationship during that time since it was honestly insane. Very toxic, very star-crossed lovers who revolve around each other but are devastating together and are healthier a part, and so much more. I’m much happier with where their characterization and how the fandom has evolved currently from those times lol. But I think over the years I’ve also realized how fucking young all of us were (I was literally like…13 consuming all this media which retroactively, I’m like YIKES 18+ is 18+ for a reason and I even realized some of my favourite authors / creators who I thought were way older than me or like “cool teenagers” were also close to my age and not that much older so no wonder we were all writing crazy unstable relationship shit like that - which can be fun! - but this was literally all. the. time.).

Honestly that’s all I can remember for now but what a wild ride. I know FF.NET is like, a super hard platform to use now (and just gets worse every day 🙃) but if anyone wants some MN fic recs from the vault lmk and I’ll make a post about it.

-Redmela

[grimalkinmessor]

Salty Ask!! :D 2 (DN), 5 (any fandom), & 13 (L! I'm curious if you have any)

*backflips* Hello hello hello! :D

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

No, actually! It's been quite the opposite for the DN fandom; I see lots of BroTPs that I turn into full ships. Terraito being first and foremost 🙏

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

OH yeah, absolutely. Mostly because of asshole antis always touting their "superior" holy ship against our barbaric "inferior" ship lmao like after a while the whole thing just gets tainted with drama. I can't see a kiribaku post without rolling my eyes, aND I THOUGHT THEY WERE CUTE AT FIRST. I was getting the same way with bakudeku too because of how shitty the shippers started being to other shippers, namely my fellow shigadekus, and bakudeku was my first OTP in that fandom!! They got REAL uppity and it drives me insane because they now do the same shit to other people that antis used to do to us. They get just as bad as the kiribaku nuts now istg. I faded out of the bigger part of the fandom before it got to the point of total abandonment though lol.

...Damn I guess I needed to rant about that >^> But yes! Yes it has! :D

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character (L)?

I have several of them about L! The main thing of which would be that that man is the most whorish virgin alive. He has absolutely NO rizz and his version of flirting is intricate infuriating mind games—a foolish misstep from his supposed beau might very well be cause for him to grow instantly bored of them. He thinks people are gross and too emotional he has NEVER touched another human being's genitals except for his own, and he doesn't even like doing that. Even when he IS interested enough to put in the effort, the effort is fumbling. NO idea what he's doing. But he's very eager to learn, and quickly at that ;3 He makes up for his lack of experience by being utterly shameless, laying himself out on tables naked and covered in whip cream, saying the most off the wall horny shit you've ever heard that would makes pornstars blush in horror, chasing after what he wants like a dog and not letting up until he gets that pretty pillow to hump. Learning on the go is very useful for when you finally catch your prey in an inconvenient place 🙏

The second biggest one is a two-parter ✌️ The first part being that I don't think he gives a shit about the Wammy Kids. No familial or even fond feelings for those brats whatsoever, maybe a sense of irritation if anything. Tiny pawns in the wings if he ever needs them. The second part being that if he did give a shit about any of them it would be Mello, and still not,,,in a fond or familial way. More of a 'better keep an eye on that one because he's leaning a lot towards the grayer side of the morality scale which is a lot like me but also a lot like someone whose name starts with B and ends with eyondbirthday so lets not do that again mkay thanks' way ✨

I also think that he'd be more fun if he was completely evil but that's just me 💅

[dragonsareourfuture]

Mello/GN!Reader — I Forgive You (Part One)

⚠️ Warnings: mentions and descriptions of bullying/abuse. Please do not continue if you are sensitive about that kind of thing or do not enjoy reading about it.

I had this idea but did not have a character to put it to yet. I chose Mello because I thought it worked best with his aggression and inferiority complex. This isn’t meant to label him and his character as a bully, I love the man and would never say that, it’s just what worked well for the story. With that out of the way, hope you enjoy the first part, second part can be found here!

When you first arrived at the spiked gates that guarded the church-like building, you had figured it was a chance at a fresh start — an opportunity to build on what you had learned and grow from that in a more stable environment than the dirty streets of town had been. You remember standing eagerly at the entrance of the orphanage, watching the children around your age kick around a soccer ball, seeming so carefree. It made you yearn for the days when you would feel that way. When you could leave your past — pickpocketing strangers in order to eat and being roughed up by thugs and privileged brats with parents who barely regarded their actions — behind you.

What the orphanage brought you, however, was the opposite. Just your luck, the very first day of your stay you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You had been skipping back to your assigned room after getting a snack from the kitchen. Your mind was blossoming, filled with daydreams of the future to come when you probably should have been more aware of your surroundings. You just couldn’t help let your mind wander when you didn’t have to worry about your survival every spare second of the day.

You were broken out of your daydreams as the sensation of something hard colliding with your shoulder caused your small body to stumble. You toppled to the ground, howling with pain as your arm got caught underneath you and bent in the worst way possible.

With your mind clouded with searing pain as you clutched your arm close to your chest, feeling dizzy already, you searched for the source of your fall. A blurred vision of yellow and black sunk into view. It appeared to be the shape of a person looming above you, saying something that took a few repeats of the same sentence for you to hear without the ringing in your ears. The pain shot up your arm and, though you wanted to make sure the person you had bumped into was alright, you were focused on the fact that your arm, limp at your side as you sat up, was most likely broken.

As the pain got more bearable, the person standing in front of you became clearer. He was dressed in baggy black garments, standing at a height that couldn’t have been much taller than you were, but in this position it was hard not to be intimidated as he leered down at you. His jaw length blonde hair framed his face, casting a terrifying shadow. A scowl contorted his features in a way that told you he was having absolutely no shit today and that you would be better off running.

When you didn’t move, the kid crouched down and moved his hand towards you. For a second, you assumed he was helping you up. But when his fist shot towards your body with speed that made you wince, a brutal blow to the side of the head told you otherwise.

“What’s the matter with you?” His voice echoed, already dizzy from the burning pain in your arm and now disoriented thanks to the new bruise you were sure was forming on your scalp. “Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

As he was standing now, he delivered an aching kick to your stomach, causing your weak and broken body to flop to the floor pathetically. You choked on air, having the wind knocked out of you and your snack from earlier was threatening to show itself again. Your stomach churned painfully as you screwed your eyes shut. It was always best to just wait it out.

Images from the streets swirled around the depths of your mind, the thieves and gangs and bratty children who got sick pleasure out of beating you into unconsciousness resurfacing. This kid was no different. It was all the same and, the more you thought about it, you could never escape the same old shit.

You must have slipped into unconsciousness because after what felt like a blink later you awoke in a bed, your arm bandaged up and an ice pack resting on your head. Upon hearing you stir, what must have been the nurse hurried to your side and berated you with questions — were you feeling alright? Was the ice pack too cold? Did you know where you were?

All you could answer with was, “What happened?” Your voice groggy and rough as you attempted to sit upright.

The nurse pushed you back down, scolding you and telling you to rest. “You should thank that boy,” she said, adjusting your broken arm and the covers around your waist, “He brought you all the way here. Said you fell down he stairs.”

Although your brain was a bit foggy on the details, you were quite sure that was not what had occurred. You began to protest, but the nurse hushed you with her finger over your lips and instructed you to sleep a while. As she pulled the curtains around your bed closed, separating you from the other sick kids, you sighed in defeat. This was how it was going to be?

Once you had recovered enough from your injuries, you were released from the nurse. You scratched at the cast around your arm nervously as you walked down the hall to your room — your intended destination the previous day — however, much more cautious this time. The gray light that shone through the windows made the hall look much more eerie, raising your alertness to the height that it should have been the day you received your injuries.

However paranoid you were feeling, your nerves met their peek when the shadow of someone standing next to the window caught your gaze. Your head whipped around to face the person the shadow belonged to, coming face to face with your assailant from yesterday. He leaned against the glass, one hand buried in his pocket while the other held a bar of chocolate to his lips. You stared him dead in the eye, waiting for another attack that never came. Neither of your glares relented — yours filled with fear and his so aggressive that you felt your bandaged arm throb with discomfort — as you stalked past the blond.

“Nasty fall you took there,” He said, snapping off a chunk of the chocolate with his teeth.

You flinched at the sound, hurrying away after that.

To think that this treatment would cease after that encounter with the boy would be a foolish sentiment. Not only did it continue, but it got worse with each passing day. As you got older and more observant, you noted different behaviors of the blonde who’s name you learned to be Mello. Of course, that was only a code name, but it was his preferred alias so the kids at the orphanage referred to him as such.

Mello was number two in the training program held at Wammy’s Orphanage to become the next great detective, the one who would solve the world’s most dangerous yet interesting cases until their time was up and a new heir would be chosen. Whenever this other kid, Near, who was considered the first in line to become the next great detective, beat Mello in anything (whether it was in class or something as simple as who’s bed was made neater) the blonde would turn right around and take his anger out on you.

You tried to reason with him through the pain, spitting out blood and words of comfort towards the boy, but this only made him hit you harder, screaming about not wanting or needing your pity.

Once you got too old for childish beatings, rumors began to spread around the orphanage, some as tame as saying that you slept with a stuffed animal, while others were particularly nasty. This was worse than the beatings in your mind. You would rather experience physical pain for a short amount of time than have no one that wanted to talk to you for the rest of your life. Well, one person did stick around for you when you needed it most.

Mail Jeevas, or as you called him around the orphanage, Matt, was always by your side no matter what he heard about you from other kids. He seemed to think that the rumors were childish and cruel, going as far as to talk to Mello about retracting them but, as everyone knows, once you say something there is no taking it back.

It meant the world to you that Matt had even tried considering he was friends with Mello (how anyone could be friends with him, you had no idea) and standing up to the particularly violent kid was, in your book, a profound act of bravery. He never failed to stick by you even after Mello had ran away from the orphanage. You were so attached to your wonderful friend that you asked to go with him when he announced that he would be leaving as well.

“Please! I can’t stay here with you gone! I’m gonna go crazy here alone!” You begged, watching as Matt packed his clothes and belongings in a plain black duffel bag.

“(Name), I know you’re scared, but out there, in the real world, there are things that you’re not trained for.”

You lunged are the brunet, grabbing his arm desperately as if that would change his mind. “I don’t care. Anywhere’s better than here. Just...please.”

“This way is more efficient. You stay here-“

“This way is going to get us killed. You can’t handle yourself alone out there, no offense, and I will go insane if I stay here! No one is on my side here besides you.”

Matt glanced at the floor and then back at you. You pushed your bottom lip out and batted your eyelids pleadingly. He let out a breathy laugh and sighed, “Well, are you gonna start packing?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, Matt! I won’t let you down! We’ll be a team!” You exclaimed, jumping around before bolting off to your room to pack.

<•>

You had elected to stand on the sidelines. Sure, it would have been an amazing feeling to be able to throw that fact that you saved Mello’s life back in his face if he did survive the burns, but you couldn’t even bear the thought of touching him after so long of being free from his torture. 

So, you watched from the sidelines as Matt fearlessly dove into the flames to scoop up the blonde’s near lifeless body, charred and smelling of burning flesh, from the wreckage of the building that once stood as a warehouse, a base for Mello and his mafia associates. The heat from the fire distorted the image as Matt carried the boy closer to where you stood. You gazed down at Mello’s unconscious, helpless form, reveling in the triumph of seeing the previously indestructible (at least in your young eyes) boy so powerless.

Matt broke you out of your trance with frantic words. “We need to get him medical attention.”

“Do we really?”

Matt narrowed his eyes at you and you raised up both of your hands in defeat, “Fine. We can’t bring him to a hospital, so I’ll run out and get some supplies.” you instructed, beginning to walk through the rubble with Matt to the cheap car he drove, the heavily used Camaro being the only thing he could afford considering you both lived on your own with no job. “You take him back to the apartment and I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

Matt nodded in agreement and loaded Mello carefully into the back seat of the old car, being cautious of the bloodied burns that covered most of his left side. He dropped you off at the supermarket close by and took Mello the rest of the way home, fixing him on the bed and waiting until you finally burst through the door with a shopping bag full of medical supplies. You had to remind yourself to keep your face steady as you neared the bed with your childhood “friend” lying on it. Even when Matt had found him and housed him in the apartment, he had no problems with you renting another room in the complex. But now, what with all the medical attention Mello most likely needed, you had no choice but to stay by his side.

You cringed as you wrapped Mello’s body in clean, white bandages, every touch to his otherwise smooth, pale skin sending you back to your days at Wammy’s. You covered his arm with cloth, vivid images of  when you broke your own arm because of him flooding into your mind. But still, you wondered if this was payback, maybe karma. Mello having to endure the flames licking his skin as a punishment for all of the times he’s hurt you. You wondered if he ever thought about you in what he must have figured were his last moments.

You were torn from your thoughts when a gentle groan emitted from Mello’s lips. He raised his good arm to his head and ran his hand over his aching features. “What...hnng?” The blond managed, opening the eye that wasn’t enveloped in flames and now soft bandages to scan the room, jolting as he saw the figures of you and Matt sitting by the bed.

“Hey, Mihael...” Matt greeted softly in an attempt to ease the boy gently into consciousness.

“Who...eh...Matt? And...” Mello trailed off, propping himself up onto his elbows to get a better glimpse at you.

You avoided his gaze, bowing your head so that your chin rested on your shoulder, speaking so quietly that if it weren’t completely silent in the room, no one would have heard you, “So, you don’t recognize me when I’m not covered in bruises, then?”

Mello’s eye widened for a second before fluttering shut. “(Name)...it’s you?” If you didn’t know better you would say that he was exasperated when your name rolled off his tongue.

“Yeah.” You rose to your feet with a burst of confidence as though suddenly realizing that he was confined to a bed with severe burns all over his body and you were free to do whatever you pleased. “It’s me. Disappointed?”

“(Name)—“ Matt started, interrupted as you continued.

“Were you expecting the same weak little child that you could beat on all the time? Oh, but you poor thing, you can barely move, can’t you? I guess karma really does catch up to a person—“

“(NAME).”

You froze, unaware that you were now towering over Mello, fists clenched in fury and face a burning scarlet. Your breathing was heavy and ragged. Your eyes darted to Matt, then back to Mello. If you weren’t mistaken, there was a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes. Rather than filling you with pride, this fact terrified you beyond belief. You had no intention whatsoever of becoming like Mello, and as soon as you realized you were so close to acting upon your rage, you stepped back and retreated to the couch on the far side of the room.

Although you kept your face buried in the couch cushions, you could tell that someone was getting up judging by the shifting of fabric. To your disappointment, the slow and careful movements exemplified someone with an injury determined to not harm themselves any further.

The couch dipped as the blond sat next to you, grunting and rubbing his arm under the thick layer of bandages. “I...I’m...” he began, unable to get the words out before swallowing hard and trying again, “I’m sorry.”

You let out a dry laugh, lifting your head but not to look at Mello. “Oh, really? Because it seemed to take a lot just to get that word out.”

“Listen, you-!”

You jumped when his voice rose suddenly, pressing yourself against the armrest of the sofa, further away from the blond. Matt was listening in as well and at the harsh tone in Mello’s voice he stood from his chair, more than ready to intervene. But Mello had caught himself, releasing a deep breath from his nose.

“I really am sorry. I know you won’t forgive me this quickly but—“

“Tch, yeah, no shit.”

“Y’know, you’re making this really difficult.”

“I’m making this difficult? No, Mello. You made this difficult when you picked on me and tortured me. And for what!?”

“I shouldn’t have taken out my anger at Near on you, but I—“

“You can’t take back the past.” You finished. Mello nodded and stared down at his lap. Matt was still in ready position. “I just...I just need time. Can you give that to me? Some time...”

And that’s what you took, lots and lots of time to think things over. On the one hand, you hated the idea of forgiving him. He made your life, which was supposed to be better off at Wammy’s, a living hell. You had to work for years on rebuilding your shattered self esteem and had to learn how not to recoil when anyone so much as came near you. But, on the other hand, he could have changed. As you have built up your confidence and skill, he may have learnt kindness and guilt. It was possible, but even so, did it change anything?

Over the course of the next few weeks it was Mello’s mission to give you everything he took away from your childhood. The things you dreamed of while you lived out your days fighting for your life. First and foremost, you’d always wanted a parental figure — someone to hold you when times got tough and to give you advice about stupid little trivial problems like boys or what clothes to buy. How he knew this about you was not in the most honorable way, having stolen your journal as a child and made you watch as he smeared mud all over the pages but not before reading every single entry. But, he figured it was the only information he had and he was determined to use it for your benefit this time.

[leechonspeeddial]

Midnight Shift: Carry On, Citizen Fang

Summary: Something wicked this way comes. If only Resentment could figure out if it was the same thing that stunk up the Burger King. Chapters: 2/? Read on ao3

Straight Kevin had been very understanding about my family emergency – He was super duper cool with manning the restaurant all by his lonesome. Sadly, he wasn't understanding enough to let me get away with not telling Gay Kevin about it – which wasn't very super duper cool of him, now was it?

He didn't even have the decency to offer to call for me, the fucking coward.

"Are you certain it's an emergency?"

I rolled my eyes and skipped over the muddy snow pile blocking the sidewalk. I felt a sense of kinship with the season. Besides the cold and death, Winter went all out when it came to inconveniencing the population.

"Trust me, Kev. If I wanted to blow off work, I'd do it on location. I'm not exactly in a rush to get home, ya know?"

The line went quiet for exactly five seconds and I could picture him doing that breathing exercise he did whenever he was fed up with my shit. I took the opportunity to loudly slurp my mello yello.

Delicious.

"I don't know, you could be ditching to hang out with friends or something. Teens do that. I did that." I almost laughed, as if.

"I spend all of my free time at work and everyone my age thinks I'm pregnant with an incest baby. Bold of you to assume I even have friends."

"You would get friends if you felt like it would inconvenience me. And it would really inconvenience me right now"

"Ugh. Don't be so dramatic. I don't do things just to be a general nuisance," I heard a snort that didn't come from Gay Kevin. "Wait, did you put me on speaker?!"

"What's the word, Res" Not Kevin chimed in before being shushed by Gay Kevin.

"Relax, we're loading the rental. I don't exactly have a free hand."

"So? This only needed to be like two seconds. Take a five or something."

"I'm going to level with you, our new napkin guy gives me real sketch vibes. Any second where we're not loading, it's an additional second we have to spend here. I simply refuse to die in a dilapidated warehouse, Resentment. I refuse."

I crossed the street to take the park shortcut home. A couple of high schoolers were vaping by the swings; they stared at me and I ignored them.

"I think you'd survive. You exude final girl energy"

"Have you ever watched a horror movie? I'd literally die first"

"I watched Practical Magic once" I smirked when Not Kevin groaned.

My satisfaction didn't last long, because no more than a second later, a snowball hit the back of my head. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I couldn't gloat to Edward about having the moral high ground if I murdered every minor annoyance that crossed my path.

It just sucked having to ignore my vampire senses because I had to play human. What was the point of knowing something was coming if you were unable to stop it because you had to keep up appearances? In my opinion, humans should just have to deal with the knowledge of the supernatural. They were big kids, we didn't need to coddle them anymore.

It was 2022, for God's sake.

I turned back scowling and flipped off the fuckers. I recognized High-Pony in the group and decided to give her the soggiest, saddest, AND smallest fries next time she dared enter my work.

Maybe even sprinkle some burnt ones for extra flavor.

"I know what you're doing and I'm begging you to stop. I'm the one who has to deal with him for the next two hours"

"Don't be rude. Not Kevin is a gift," I glared at the group and slowly walked away backwards. At least until they were out of my sight. The Cullens were insane for going back to high school as often as they did.

"Ha. It's nice to be appreciated"

"Truly. Short of a museum, where else are you going to find something so old?"

"Boo. Get new jokes, the material is stale," I rolled my eyes as I shook the snow from my hair. I was rapidly approaching home and I wasn't quite prepared to go in.

For one, how was I supposed to keep my new mystery to myself if that's what Alice saw? It wasn't fair. To think I had only been worried about Big Brother and his thought police...

Reflecting on it though, if Alice saw my mystery man, then wouldn't that mean he was either a vampire or a human? Ergo, something neither mysterious nor interesting.

Disappointing.

"Whatever, gramps"

"Ok, ok. Let's get back on topic –"

"You gotta start trying harder, Chucky. You're far from the only teen girl that calls me ancient on the regular."

"Why are you regularly taking to teenage girls, creep?"

"Guys –"

"That's not what–! I foster kids!"

"Yeah, sure, pervert"

"I'm NOT –"

"OK RESENTMENT, DEAL WITH YOUR FAMILY. HANGING UP NOW"

I stopped walking and stared at my phone. Despite the length of the call, there had been no new messages from my family. I was unsure if that was a good sign.

I took a sip from my drink and was disappointed to find I only had ice left. I wondered if that was thematically significant, or maybe even foreshadowing.

Sigh.

I picked up my pace and tried to empty my mind before arriving home. "No thoughts, head empty" was a good mantra when you lived with a mind reader.

The rest of the walk was fairly uneventful, save for some guy who got attacked by a flock of ducks for getting way too close without enough food. Beware, all amateur wildlife photographers, lest the same fate falls upon you, I guess.

Poor guy even lost his coat. I was happy to assume it was the first casualty under the duck assault.

I slowed down when I finally arrived across the street from my home.  The newest Cullen mansion stood foreboding before me. A concrete monument full of sharp lines and odd angles; despite all of Esme's soft touches, brutalism simply exuded hostility and soullessness. Try as she might, there was a limit to how much you could dress up a giant grey concrete block to make it look approachable – and if we were being honest, it wasn't working.

How's that for a metaphor?

Well. There was no use delaying the inevitable.

I entered the house.

[Scene Break]

Being a half-vampire meant that I always felt at a misstep with everyone around me. To me, humanity was more of a scientific field of study that I took interest in and less of a dearly held-on memento of a bygone era or something that I simply had.

From the vampire side of things, while I was clearly an abomination, my existence didn't require me to be a parasitic blood freak. That put me in a different head space from the rest of my family. For one, I didn't need to agonize over my monstrous nature; secondly, I wasn't a slave to my bloodlust if I kept myself full of human food; and thirdly, there just wasn't much precedent for me to measure up to.

For all we knew, everything I did was the best I could have done.

That was all to say, I always felt like there was something I was missing when interacting with anyone. My point of view was fundamentally a different one, and though some things I could make sense of theoretically, it wasn't the same as first-hand experience.

Standing in the living room, surrounded by my family as they continued to say nothing, I couldn't help but think that perhaps this time the context I was missing had nothing to do with my hybrid status.

Edward paced while looking constipated but everyone else stood motionless and rigidly like the statues they were. Not even Emmett tried to lighten the mood, and that's how you knew it was serious.

"So who's going to who's funeral? Please don't say any of my coworkers, I've grown quite attached to them"

"Renesmee," Edward warned. I ignore him like he ignored my preferred name.

"Is it you pops? Wanna crack open another high school girl and drink her up like grape soda?"

"For once in your life could you stop acting like a brat?" Edward snapped and I flinched.

"Takes one to know one. Maybe if you didn't raise one you wouldn't have to deal with one, dad"

"Enough!" We both turned to look at Carlisle and I could see how unsettled he was. My stomach churned.

"Maybe my vision was wrong. Maybe it wasn't him," Alice sounded desperate, almost like the time the truck transporting her latest Givenchy haul got into a freak accident and the customer service lady told her they couldn't replace her order until after whatever microtrend that had been happening at the time ended.

"No, Alice. I saw your vision. It was. No doubt about it, that face is burned in my memory"

"It just doesn't make any sense, Edward!"

"I know what I saw," he replied forcefully.

Carlisle rubbed at his eyes, and for the briefest of seconds, you could have mistaken him for human.

"What's going on? You guys are scaring me," nothing felt right and all I wanted to do was to get back to the Burger King. At least the Kevins kept me in the loop when potentially life-threatening stuff happened.

"James is back," Bella whispered and I looked at her. Out of all of the Cullens, she looked the least worried. While everyone else's expressions visibly darkened at hearing the name, Bella said the name like she would say any name that wasn't Edward's.

"Who the fuck is James?"

"He was a vampire," Jasper growled.

"So what's the big deal? I don't know if you have noticed, but all of you are vampires"

"Emphasis on the was, Nessie. We ripped apart the bastard a good 16 years ago," Emmet explained. I raised my eyebrow.

"You sure about that? Last I heard, once you killed the undead, they were dead for good. No such thing as an undead undead."

"Oh, damn sure. We tore into him like frenzied piranhas at lunchtime and then lit him like a firework on the Fourth of July," Rosalie lightly hit his arm.

"You don't have to be so graphic about it"

"So it's obviously not him," Edward made a noise filled with frustration.

"Renesmee, I know what I saw. It was him, I would bet my life on it"

"Would you bet Bella's?" was what I almost said but Edward's glare made me reconsider. Just this once.

"Dead people just don't walk around all over the place," I said instead.

"We do," Emmett chimed in.

"We're different!"

"So why not him?"

"Edward is right," Classic Carl Carlisle move. His Golden Child could never be wrong. "I might have heard of something like this happening before."

There was a brief moment of silence before everyone exploded.

"WHAT?!"

Carlisle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You have to understand, I couldn't verify it at the time."

When he said nothing, Esme made a "well, go on" motion.

"It happened about a decade ago. I only came upon this information because of Eleazar – he had approached me about it because he thought I was involved," Carlisle walked towards a window and stared into the distance like the dramatic bitch he was.

Edward slapped the back of my head.

"He told me heard of rumors of a vampire that had died 50 years ago and who walked the Earth again. You all know about my passion for Theology and my desire to find out what waits for us on the other side, so I promised to look into it. It took a while, but eventually, I heard back from someone"

"Your trip to Carencro," Esme gasped. "You said it was a conference!"

"When was this, I don't remember this?" Carl was holding back no punches in his dramatic reveal.

"It was our semester abroad," that's what Edward like to call the half a year experiment we spent in France. He wanted to see if Bella, him, and I could be a family unit all on our own.

It failed pretty miserably, would never happen again.

"I didn't want to burden you, love. Not unless I knew for sure."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "So what happened?"

Carlisle turned back to us and shrugged.

"I met my informant and they told me to go to this one cafe and ask for Roy. I went there and the manager told me no one with that name worked there"

"So you got pranked," Emmet said.

"I looked around town for a couple of days, and since nothing else came up after my trip to Lousiana, I felt comfortable labeling the whole thing a hoax."

Rosalie scoffed. "And you think that's what's happening here?"

"I think it could be a possibility. This is our only lead"

I thought over what Carlisle just said. Could there really be an afterlife vampires could come back from? And if that was the case, then what happened to Roy? Was Roy even the vampire Elezear heard about?

But most importantly, why now?

"Hey, Alice. Besides James, what else did you see?"

Everyone went quiet and I looked back at them confused.

"I saw us without you"

"I mean, you don't really see me in your visions," I chuckled nervously.

"When I don't see you, it's like I'm looking around something. What I saw...it felt like I would never have to deal with that interference again."

"...Oh"

That didn't sound good.

[kawaiipsycho101srpblog]

Righteous Side of Hell--Ch.1

(NOTE: I’ll only be posting the first few chapters of this fic, so if you want to read the rest, you’ll have to go to my main blog, my ff.net page, or my AO3 [all have the name KawaiiPsycho101]. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!)

1. That! That!

You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.

It had taken a while, but with Ryuk’s assistance, I’d finally been able to track down the current owner of my notebook to a local mafia faction. The mere idea of these thugs possessing my Death Note, using it, defiling it, made me sick to my stomach.

“You’re all scum, ya know that?” I said to the oblivious men and women. “Worthless, life-sucking scum,” I could see the back of a head with silken blonde hair extending a graceful, well-toned arm. In its gloved-covered hand was my notebook.

A woman, huh? That’s actually rather impressive. Don’t see many godmothers these days.

“I look forward to murdering you all slowly and painfully,” I continued as I began to head towards her. “Your screams will bring me absolute pleasure, and only when you’ve begged for the sweet release of death will I holy shit, you’re a guy.”

Indeed, sitting before me on a tacky zebra-striped sofa was an attractive young man sporting a pair of tight leather pants with a matching vest. Dangling from the corner of his black-lipsticked mouth was a bar of chocolate that bobbed up and down with the movement of his jaw as he chewed, occasionally bumping against the wooden rosary around his neck. I glanced down and blinked at the most-likely loaded gun snugged securely in the front of his trousers. I looked up at his name and found the words Mihael Keehl floating above his head. Mihael was a boy’s name, last time I checked.

My notebook is in the hands of a blonde, leather-wearing, chocolate-munching, gun-toting, possibly-sociopathic, pretty boy?!

I slowly rubbed a hand down my face and sighed.

“Of course. Sure. Why the fuck not?”

After a few more seconds of staring at the oddity, I decided it was time to make contact.

He can’t see me until Snydar touches it. Guess I’ll have to wait...

A few seconds later...

Fuck this shit!

I plucked the notebook out of the blonde’s hands, giggling at the look of pure shock plastered on his face, and slapped it against Snydar’s cheek before dropping it in his lap. 

“The...The notebook just flew.”

“Heh, it’s a notebook that kills people. Hell, nothing surprises me anymore,” said a fellow mobster named Dwhite Gordan, a beefcake who only wore a suit-jacket to hide his chest.

Nothing surprises you, eh? Just wait...

I watched as Snydar turned around and saw me, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.

“Ha! You should see your face right now!”

“AAHHH!” He fell out of his seat and pointed at me. “Boss, who is this?! The guy in the freaky costume?! Who the Hell is he?! Who brought him here?!”

“You idiot, don’t you know a shinigami when you see one?”

“A shinigami?” He began to laugh hysterically.

“That’s right. Now if I were you, I’d have the others touch the notebook before the men in white come and take you to the Happy Home.” I pointed at the Death Note. “Go on.”

Snydar picked up the notebook with shaking hands and looked at me, then his cohorts.

“It says you can see it if you touch the notebook! Please, everyone touch it! I swear I’m not crazy!”

Everyone looked at Dwhite, and I realized that he must be their leader, which struck me as strange. I’d been almost certain that Mihael was the one in charge, seeing as he was the one lounging around like he owned the place and examining my notebook like it was a shiny new toy, plus the sense of leadership and authority that practically radiated from him. 

Then again, he’s awfully young...Perhaps he’s a second-in-command...Still though, for someone so young to make it this far in the mafia...

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Dwhite gave an annoyed grunt.

“Fine, whatever. Come on guys, touch the notebook.”

Just as the first person’s hand was inches away from the book, I got a brilliant idea and quickly went through the wall closest to me.

“Well Jack, where is it?”

“It was right there, I swear! Just now!”

“Sure it was.” I heard a mumbled agreement from the other men in the room, figuring that by now they had all touched the notebook, and made my move, sliding through the wall as quickly as I’d left.

“WHAAAAZZZZZUUUUHHHP?”

The screams and gunshots that followed were music to my ears. I hadn’t laughed so hard in years. I was still trying to keep my sides from splitting by the time they calmed down.

“Jack’s right,” Dwhite muttered. “That ain’t no costume. That’s a real-life shinigami.”

“Damn straight,” I snickered.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing really, just my notebook.”

“Your notebook?”

“Yes, my notebook.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How do we know it’s yours?”

“Flip to the inside of the back cover and you’ll find a series of symbols scratched into the material of the lower right-hand corner. Those are my initials, which translated to the English alphabet, would be A.K.A.” The mobsters did as they were told and, sure enough, my initials were there.

“Okay, so it’s your notebook. Doesn’t mean we have to give it back to you.”

“Au contraire, my bald, muscular friend. You see, I don’t have long to live, and if I don’t write down some names in that Death Note soon, I will die. And if I die, that notebook will burst into flames. And if the Death Note is destroyed, you will all die in thirteen days.” The mobster’s faces all paled at my last sentence. If Ryuk hadn’t told me about the fake rules he’d written in my notebook, I wouldn’t have had my bargaining chip. “Tell you what, since I’m such a nice shinigami, I’ll make you a deal. Let me borrow the notebook for a little while so I can write some names down and expand my life-span, then I’ll give it right back as soon as I’m done with it, okay?”

As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice that the blonde seemed unusually calm considering the situation he was in; not every day could someone talk to a shinigami. But his eyes never left my own, and I could practically see the gears in his head working at break-neck speed.

“How do we know you won’t just run away with the notebook? Or write all of our names down, and then run away?” My attention returned to the head mobster before me.

“A few reasons: one, the human has to willingly surrender the notebook in order for it to be returned to its original owner. Second, I can tell by looking at your lifespans that not that many of you have long to live, so why should I bother killing you if your deaths won’t be that much use to me? And thirdly, do I look like the kind of shinigami that would go back on its word?” I smirked under my scarf and held out my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll only need it for a few minutes, and I promise I’ll give it back.”

“But-”

“Just give it the notebook, Rod. I think it’s telling the truth.”

There was a brief silence before the mob boss spoke.

“Are you sure, Mello?”

Wait, WHAT?

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” Without another word he handed me my notebook, and I took it from him while doing my best to hide my sudden anxiety.

Did he say...? No...no, it can’t be...I must have misheard.

“Thank you.” I pulled a pen from my belt and flipped to a fresh page in the notebook. “Any preferences?”

“No, thanks. We already took care of that.”

“Ah. Excuse me.” I stepped past him and sat cross-legged on the floor facing a TV. It was a news show; an anchorwoman was posing before a camera with a lot of bystanders standing behind her. “Perfect.”

I picked my victims, and the causes and times of their deaths, at random, while throwing in some criminals for good measure, but not enough for the men watching me to notice. After a couple minutes, I’d written down enough names to last me for a very long time.

“There,” I slapped the notebook shut. “I should be set for the next couple hundred years or so.” I stood up and handed it back to Rod. “I told you I was a shinigami of my word.”

“Right...” he said uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong? Still put off by my appearance?” I cleared my throat and threw my voice around until it was a perfect imitation of his. “Or is it the voice? Does the way I talk upset you?”

The man’s eyes widened.

“How...how are you doing that?”

“It’s a quirk.” I grinned, knowing that my voice trick was putting everyone in a state of unease.

I’ll have these pigs in the palm of my hand in no time.

“Umm...Could you please,” mumbled one of the other mobsters. “Not do that?”

“Well, since you asked nicely...” I reverted back to my normal way of speaking. “Sure.”

“Shinigami.” I looked at the blonde on the couch, and was surprised to find that he was still remarkably composed. The way he looked at me...It felt like he was sizing me up, figuring out various ways I could be of use to him, and then when and how to dispose of me once he was through. This was a man used to getting what he wanted, and anyone who got in his way would most assuredly wind up with a bullet lodged into their skull. Normally I despised people like this, and frankly, he was no exception; and yet, the more I studied him, I realized that unlike other pompous brats, he had the skill to back up his bravado. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to respect him.

Maybe...there’s a chance it might be him...But I have to be certain.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me A for now.” I noticed how his brow twitched ever so slightly, as if maybe I’d struck a nerve. “Or ‘Shinigami’, or whatever. I don’t really care.”

“Then tell me...A,” he asked, taking a bite of his chocolate. “Is there anything else we need to know about the Death Note? Any other rules or limitations to who we can kill?”

I got an idea and smirked.

“There are, but I don’t like giving things away without getting something in return. So, how about another deal?” 

“What do you want?”

“That.” I pointed to his chocolate. “Give me some of that, and I’ll answer any questions you have with the utmost sincerity. No lies, no tricks.”

“Done.” He grabbed another chocolate bar off of a table next to him and tossed it to me, which I easily caught. I carefully unwrapped it, the smell instantly making my mouth water. I lowered my scarf and heard quiet mutterings from the others as they saw my razor-sharp teeth. As I bit into the sweetness, letting the taste melt into my tongue, my eyes rolled back into my head and I felt my knees buckle a little. A low moan escaped the back of my throat as I savored every single bite.

Oh, sweet motherfucking Christ, yes.

As I finished it off, I placed my palms together and closed my eyes for a brief second in an almost-reflexive sign of thanks. I didn’t really notice I was doing it until I’d opened my eyes again.

Huh...that’s odd.

I quickly put the thought out of my mind and positioned my scarf back over my mouth with a grin.

“The thirteen-day rule is totally bogus. Also, if I die, the notebook will not be affected; the same would also apply to me if the notebook is destroyed.”

“You mean those rules are fake?!” Rod cried.

“That’s what I said.”

“So earlier,” one of the mobsters grumbled. “When you wanted to borrow the notebook, you were-”

“Playing you for a bunch of chumps? Yes, yes I was.”

“But why? Why would you put in fake rules?” The blonde’s gaze narrowed.

“I didn’t, someone else did.”

“Who?”

“No idea,” I lied. “Most likely another shinigami. Probably did it to mess with a human. Ya know, shits and giggles. Oh, and you’ll probably want to know about the eye-trade.”

“Eye-trade?”

“A shinigami’s eyes can see a person’s real name and lifespan above their heads. In exchange for half of the current owner’s remaining lifespan, I can give him those eyes. And speaking of names, would you mind telling me how to pronounce yours?” His cerulean eyes narrowed as I squinted at the floating letters above his head. “I can read it, but I can’t figure out how you’re supposed to say it. Is it-?”

“That’s enough!” His outburst almost made me flinch. “I go by Mello, understand? Nothing else.”

Ho. Ly. Shit. It is him. It has to be!

“Alright, alright,” I raised my hands in a position of mock-surrender. “No need to get snippy.”

Mello quickly cooled down and resumed his leisurely position on the couch, his body practically draped over the cushions like a model about to be drawn nude.

“Are you serious about this eye-trade?”

“Quite. But I can only make the deal with the current owner of my Death Note,” I turned to Snydar. “That would be you.”

“Make the deal, Jack,” Rod ordered.

“Wh-what?!”

“You heard me. Make the deal for the shinigami eyes.”

“But I’ll lose half of-” It was at this point Snydar noticed the way Rod was reaching into his jacket. “Ya know, on second thought, I’d like to make to the eye-trade.”

“Atta boy.”

“So, uh...” Snydar looked at me. “How does this...umm, happen? What are you going to do?”

“Just close your eyes and hold very still.” He did as instructed and I gently placed my hand on top of his head. “Now, I’ve never done this before, so it may take a few tries,” I didn’t know whether to mock or pity the man as he started to tremble. “But it shouldn’t hurt a bit.” I focused for a second and felt a strange tingling in the hand that was on Snydar’s head which quickly shot up my arm and dissipated. “Annnnnd done. You can open your eyes now.” He did so, revealing bright red irises which quickly faded back to his natural eye color. “Congratulations, you are now that much closer to death.”

And I’m that much closer to getting my Death Note back... 

“What do you see?” Mello asked.

“Names...” Snydar whispered. “And numbers. Are those their lifespans?”

“Yeah, but they’re done in the numeral language of the shinigami. To translate it to human calculations, you’d need a calculator and a great deal of time, depending on how precise you’d want it to be.”

“Excellent.” Rod thumped Snydar on the back. “Now we’re in business.” 

“Thank you, A.” Mello smiled. “You have been very helpful.”

I felt something stir deep inside of me. A quiver just below my stomach that sent tingles up my spine and made my lower extremities throb ever so slightly. The sensation was new, yet faintly familiar. I almost gagged when I realized what it was.

Oh no, nope, nuh-unh, don’t even think about it, don’t you dare feel attracted to him ah shit, too late.

“No problem.” The inside of my mouth felt like sandpaper. “Any other questions?”

“I think we’re good for now.” His smile disappeared, as did the sickening feeling, and I inwardly sighed with relief. “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions, but for now, you can keep watch outside.”

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t quite believe what I’d just heard.

“It’ll be very convenient for us that you can’t be seen by humans. Go outside and keep watch, got it?”

In another time, I would have pissed my pants and ran at the look he gave me then. It was goddamn creepy. But I had changed since then, and had grown used to these kinds of gazes. If anything, I thought it was extremely humorous.

“Heh...heheheh...” His left eye twitched in surprise as my giggles turned into guffaws of laughter. Everyone stared, bewildered, as my voice rose and fell, cracking in its insane cackles.

“What’s so funny?” Mello asked, irked.

“You are!” I chuckled. “You are without a doubt the strangest human being I have ever encountered! Your appearance! Your intelligence! Your chocolate and leather fetishes! And now you’re givin’ me friggin’ orders! Me! A goddamned shinigami! A being that has every single person in this room terrified except for you! The whole thing just strikes me as hilarious!”

I continued to laugh maniacally as the blonde glared at me with the icy daggers that were his eyes. Eventually, I began to calm down.

“Finished?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’ll give you this though, you’re probably also the bravest human I’ve seen; it takes some serious guts to boss around a death god.”

There was a brief pause as my words sunk in. I had a feeling I had said what everyone else had once thought at one point or another. Mello was a very strange person. Brilliant yes, but strange...and maybe a bit psychotic, but hey, I wasn’t one to judge.

“So, are you going to keep watch, or not?”

My lips clenched into a scowl as my good humor immediately dissolved.

“Okay, let’s make something explicitly, perfectly clear here.” I took a few steps toward him. “The only reason I’m here is because shinigami law requires me to be. That does not make me your servant, alright? You do not get to order me around like one of these shit-for-brains asshats.” I motioned to the group of men surrounding us, stopping once I was right in front of him. He hadn’t moved an inch, his face only expressing the slightest hint of emotion. It was really starting to tick me off. “So, do we have an understanding?”

There was a tense silence, the people in the room waiting with bated breath for Mello’s response, until...

“Do it, and I’ll give you more chocolate.”

-snap!-

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d grabbed the blonde by the throat and yanked him to his feet. He audibly gasped in surprise and pain as I slammed his back against the wall above the couch. I found it immensely pleasing.

“Listen well, Pretty Boy, because I’m only going to say this once,” I leaned in close until we were perfectly eye-level. “Don’t fuck with me. Fuck with me, and you’ll regret it. You have my word on that.”

I dropped him back on the sofa-cushions and he glared up at me with hate-filled eyes.

“You...you...” He was so angry, he couldn’t think of anything to say. I knew that feeling well.

“Maybe when you’re ready to treat with me some respect, we can try this again.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, tightening my grip when he tried to shake it off, and leaned in again, hissing into his ear. “Your tricks won’t work on me. I’ve been dealing with your type for a long time now. I’m used to it.”

  My type?” Mello whispered, caught off-guard again as I released his shoulder and stood up.

“Anyway, if you have any more questions regarding the Death Note, just give me a holler. Later.”

Black, feathery wings popped out of my back, and I flew up and out of the hideout so fast that Mello’s enraged shouts just barely reached my ears as faint whispers. I smiled in content as I settled on a high tree-branch, but it didn’t last long as I began to think about the recklessness of my past actions, and the young man whom was currently handling my notebook.

Hmm...Short-tempered, calculating, a bit on the arrogant side, chocolate addiction, late teens...There’s no doubt about it...It’s the Mello he told me about...

I held up my left arm and pulled down the shirt-sleeve, revealing a single letter carved into the flesh of my wrist and a list of names beneath it. Using the sharp tip of my pen, I began to add the names of the people I’d sentenced to death just a few minutes prior. I hoped that the familiar pain would be enough to distract me from my rapidly growing feeling of dread.

This might change things...

Alternate title for this chapter: HEYKIDSWANNASEEADEADBODY?

And before you ask, yes, Mello wearing black lipstick is totally canon. Don’t believe me? Look it up. Fabulous, no?

[kawaiipsycho101]

Righteous Side of Hell--Ch. 1

1. That! That!

You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.

It had taken a while, but with Ryuk’s assistance, I’d finally been able to track down the current owner of my notebook to a local mafia faction. The mere idea of these thugs possessing my Death Note, using it, defiling it, made me sick to my stomach.

“You’re all scum, ya know that?” I said to the oblivious men and women. “Worthless, life-sucking scum.” I could see the back of a head with silken blonde hair extending a graceful, well-toned arm. In its gloved-covered hand was my notebook.

A woman, huh? That’s actually rather impressive. Don’t see many godmothers these days.

“I look forward to murdering you all slowly and painfully,” I continued as I began to head towards her. “Your screams will bring me absolute pleasure, and only when you’ve begged for the sweet release of death will I holy shit, you’re a guy.”

Indeed, sitting before me on a tacky zebra-striped sofa was an attractive young man sporting a pair of tight leather pants with a matching vest. Dangling from the corner of his black-lipsticked mouth was a bar of chocolate that bobbed up and down with the movement of his jaw as he chewed, occasionally bumping against the wooden rosary around his neck. I glanced down and blinked at the most-likely loaded gun snugged securely in the front of his trousers. I looked up at his name and found the words Mihael Keehl floating above his head. Mihael was a boy’s name, last time I checked.

My notebook is in the hands of a blonde, leather-wearing, chocolate-munching, gun-toting, possibly-sociopathic, pretty boy?!

I slowly rubbed a hand down my face and sighed.

“Of course. Sure. Why the fuck not?”

After a few more seconds of staring at the oddity, I decided it was time to make contact.

He can’t see me until Snydar touches it. Guess I’ll have to wait…

A few seconds later…

Fuck this shit!

I plucked the notebook out of the blonde’s hands, giggling at the look of pure shock plastered on his face, and slapped it against Snydar’s cheek before dropping it in his lap.  

“The…The notebook just flew.”  

“Heh, it’s a notebook that kills people. Hell, nothing surprises me anymore,” said a fellow mobster named Dwhite Gordan, a beefcake who only wore a suit-jacket to hide his chest.

Nothing surprises you, eh? Just wait…

I watched as Snydar turned around and saw me, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.

“Ha! You should see your face right now!”

“AAHHH!” He fell out of his seat and pointed at me. “Boss, who is this?! The guy in the freaky costume?! Who the Hell is he?! Who brought him here?!”

“You idiot, don’t you know a shinigami when you see one?”

“A shinigami?” He began to laugh hysterically.

“That’s right. Now if I were you, I’d have the others touch the notebook before the men in white come and take you to the Happy Home.” I pointed at the Death Note. “Go on.”

Snydar picked up the notebook with shaking hands and looked at me, then his cohorts.

“It says you can see it if you touch the notebook! Please, everyone touch it! I swear I’m not crazy!”

Everyone looked at Dwhite, and I realized that he must be their leader, which struck me as strange. I’d been almost certain that Mihael was the one in charge, seeing as he was the one lounging around like he owned the place and examining my notebook like it was a shiny new toy, plus the sense of leadership and authority that practically radiated from him.  

Then again, he’s awfully young…Perhaps he’s a second-in-command...Still though, for someone so young to make it this far in the mafia…

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Dwhite gave an annoyed grunt.

“Fine, whatever. Come on guys, touch the notebook.”

Just as the first person’s hand was inches away from the book, I got a brilliant idea and quickly went through the wall closest to me.

“Well Jack, where is it?”

“It was right there, I swear! Just now!”

“Sure it was.” I heard a mumbled agreement from the other men in the room, figuring that by now they had all touched the notebook, and made my move, sliding through the wall as quickly as I’d left.

“WHAAAAZZZZZUUUUHHHP?”

The screams and gunshots that followed were music to my ears. I hadn’t laughed so hard in years. I was still trying to keep my sides from splitting by the time they calmed down.

“Jack’s right,” Dwhite muttered. “That ain’t no costume. That’s a real-life shinigami.”

“Damn straight,” I snickered.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing really, just my notebook.”

“Your notebook?”

“Yes, my notebook.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How do we know it’s yours?”

“Flip to the inside of the back cover and you’ll find a series of symbols scratched into the material of the lower right-hand corner. Those are my initials, which translated to the English alphabet, would be A.K.A.” The mobsters did as they were told and, sure enough, my initials were there.

“Okay, so it’s your notebook. Doesn’t mean we have to give it back to you.”

“Au contraire, my bald, muscular friend. You see, I don’t have long to live, and if I don’t write down some names in that Death Note soon, I will die. And if I die, that notebook will burst into flames. And if the Death Note is destroyed, you will all die in thirteen days.” The mobster’s faces all paled at my last sentence. If Ryuk hadn’t told me about the fake rules he’d written in my notebook, I wouldn’t have had my bargaining chip. “Tell you what, since I’m such a nice shinigami, I’ll make you a deal. Let me borrow the notebook for a little while so I can write some names down and expand my life-span, then I’ll give it right back as soon as I’m done with it, okay?”

As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice that the blonde seemed unusually calm considering the situation he was in; not every day could someone talk to a shinigami. But his eyes never left my own, and I could practically see the gears in his head working at break-neck speed.

“How do we know you won’t just run away with the notebook? Or write all of our names down, and then run away?” My attention returned to the head mobster before me.

“A few reasons: one, the human has to willingly surrender the notebook in order for it to be returned to its original owner. Second, I can tell by looking at your lifespans that not that many of you have long to live, so why should I bother killing you if your deaths won’t be that much use to me? And thirdly, do I look like the kind of shinigami that would go back on its word?” I smirked under my scarf and held out my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll only need it for a few minutes, and I promise I’ll give it back.”

“But-”

“Just give it the notebook, Rod. I think it’s telling the truth.”

There was a brief silence before the mob boss spoke.

“Are you sure, Mello?”

Wait, WHAT?

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” Without another word he handed me my notebook, and I took it from him while doing my best to hide my sudden anxiety.

Did he say…? No…no, it can’t be…I must have misheard.

“Thank you.” I pulled a pen from my belt and flipped to a fresh page in the notebook. “Any preferences?”

“No, thanks. We already took care of that.”

“Ah. Excuse me.” I stepped past him and sat cross-legged on the floor facing a TV. It was a news show; an anchorwoman was posing before a camera with a lot of bystanders standing behind her. “Perfect.”

I picked my victims, and the causes and times of their deaths, at random, while throwing in some criminals for good measure, but not enough for the men watching me to notice. After a couple minutes, I’d written down enough names to last me for a very long time.

“There,” I slapped the notebook shut. “I should be set for the next couple hundred years or so.” I stood up and handed it back to Rod. “I told you I was a shinigami of my word.”

“Right…” he said uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong? Still put off by my appearance?” I cleared my throat and threw my voice around until it was a perfect imitation of his. “Or is it the voice? Does the way I talk upset you?”

The man’s eyes widened.

“How…how are you doing that?”

“It’s a quirk.” I grinned, knowing that my voice trick was putting everyone in a state of unease.

I’ll have these pigs in the palm of my hand in no time.

“Umm…Could you please,” mumbled one of the other mobsters. “Not do that?”

“Well, since you asked nicely…” I reverted back to my normal way of speaking. “Sure.”

“Shinigami.” I looked at the blonde on the couch, and was surprised to find that he was still remarkably composed. The way he looked at me…It felt like he was sizing me up, figuring out various ways I could be of use to him, and then when and how to dispose of me once he was through. This was a man used to getting what he wanted, and anyone who got in his way would most assuredly wind up with a bullet lodged into their skull. Normally I despised people like this, and frankly, he was no exception; and yet, the more I studied him, I realized that unlike other pompous brats, he had the skill to back up his bravado. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to respect him.

Maybe…there’s a chance it might be him…But I have to be certain.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me A for now.” I noticed how his brow twitched ever so slightly, as if maybe I’d struck a nerve. “Or ‘Shinigami’, or whatever. I don’t really care.”

“Then tell me…A,” he asked, taking a bite of his chocolate. “Is there anything else we need to know about the Death Note? Any other rules or limitations to who we can kill?”

I got an idea and smirked.

“There are, but I don’t like giving things away without getting something in return. So, how about another deal?”

“What do you want?”

“That.” I pointed to his chocolate. “Give me some of that, and I’ll answer any questions you have with the utmost sincerity. No lies, no tricks.”

“Done.” He grabbed another chocolate bar off of a table next to him and tossed it to me, which I easily caught. I carefully unwrapped it, the smell instantly making my mouth water. I lowered my scarf and heard quiet mutterings from the others as they saw my razor-sharp teeth. As I bit into the sweetness, letting the taste melt into my tongue, my eyes rolled back into my head and I felt my knees buckle a little. A low moan escaped the back of my throat as I savored every single bite.

Oh, sweet motherfucking Christ, yes.

As I finished it off, I placed my palms together and closed my eyes for a brief second in an almost-reflexive sign of thanks. I didn’t really notice I was doing it until I’d opened my eyes again.

Huh…that’s odd.

I quickly put the thought out of my mind and positioned my scarf back over my mouth with a grin.

“The thirteen-day rule is totally bogus. Also, if I die, the notebook will not be affected; the same would also apply to me if the notebook is destroyed.”

“You mean those rules are fake?!” Rod cried.

“That’s what I said.”

“So earlier,” one of the mobsters grumbled. “When you wanted to borrow the notebook, you were-”

“Playing you for a bunch of chumps? Yes, yes I was.”

“But why? Why would you put in fake rules?” The blonde’s gaze narrowed.

“I didn’t, someone else did.”

“Who?”

“No idea,” I lied. “Most likely another shinigami. Probably did it to mess with a human. Ya know, shits and giggles. Oh, and you’ll probably want to know about the eye-trade.”

“Eye-trade?”

“A shinigami’s eyes can see a person’s real name and lifespan above their heads. In exchange for half of the current owner’s remaining lifespan, I can give him those eyes. And speaking of names, would you mind telling me how to pronounce yours?” His cerulean eyes narrowed as I squinted at the floating letters above his head. “I can read it, but I can’t figure out how you’re supposed to say it. Is it-?”

“That’s enough!” His outburst almost made me flinch. “I go by Mello, understand? Nothing else.”

Ho. Ly. Shit. It is him. It has to be!

“Alright, alright,” I raised my hands in a position of mock-surrender. “No need to get snippy.”

Mello quickly cooled down and resumed his leisurely position on the couch, his body practically draped over the cushions like a model about to be drawn nude.

“Are you serious about this eye-trade?”

“Quite. But I can only make the deal with the current owner of my Death Note,” I turned to Snydar. “That would be you.”

“Make the deal, Jack,” Rod ordered.

“Wh-what?!”

“You heard me. Make the deal for the shinigami eyes.”

“But I’ll lose half of-” It was at this point Snydar noticed the way Rod was reaching into his jacket. “Ya know, on second thought, I’d like to make to the eye-trade.”

“Atta boy.”

“So, uh…” Snydar looked at me. “How does this…umm, happen? What are you going to do?”

“Just close your eyes and hold very still.” He did as instructed and I gently placed my hand on top of his head. “Now, I’ve never done this before, so it may take a few tries,” I didn’t know whether to mock or pity the man as he started to tremble. “But it shouldn’t hurt a bit.” I focused for a second and felt a strange tingling in the hand that was on Snydar’s head which quickly shot up my arm and dissipated. “Annnnnd done. You can open your eyes now.” He did so, revealing bright red irises which quickly faded back to his natural eye color. “Congratulations, you are now that much closer to death.”

And I’m that much closer to getting my Death Note back…

“What do you see?” Mello asked.

“Names…” Snydar whispered. “And numbers. Are those their lifespans?”

“Yeah, but they’re done in the numeral language of the shinigami. To translate it to human calculations, you’d need a calculator and a great deal of time, depending on how precise you’d want it to be.”

“Excellent.” Rod thumped Snydar on the back. “Now we’re in business.”

“Thank you, A.” Mello smiled. “You have been very helpful.”

I felt something stir deep inside of me. A quiver just below my stomach that sent tingles up my spine and made my lower extremities throb ever so slightly. The sensation was new, yet faintly familiar. I almost gagged when I realized what it was.

Oh no, nope, nuh-unh, don’t even think about it, don’t you dare feel attracted to him ah shit, too late.

“No problem.” The inside of my mouth felt like sandpaper. “Any other questions?”

“I think we’re good for now.” His smile disappeared, as did the sickening feeling, and I inwardly sighed with relief. “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions, but for now, you can keep watch outside.”

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t quite believe what I’d just heard.

“It’ll be very convenient for us that you can’t be seen by humans. Go outside and keep watch, got it?”

In another time, I would have pissed my pants and ran at the look he gave me then. It was goddamn creepy. But I had changed since then, and had grown used to these kinds of gazes. If anything, I thought it was extremely humorous.

“Heh…heheheh…” His left eye twitched in surprise as my giggles turned into guffaws of laughter. Everyone stared, bewildered, as my voice rose and fell, cracking in its insane cackles.

“What’s so funny?” Mello asked, irked.

“You are!” I chuckled. “You are without a doubt the strangest human being I have ever encountered! Your appearance! Your intelligence! Your chocolate and leather fetishes! And now you’re givin’ me friggin’ orders! Me! A goddamned shinigami! A being that has every single person in this room terrified except for you! The whole thing just strikes me as hilarious!”

I continued to laugh maniacally as the blonde glared at me with the icy daggers that were his eyes. Eventually, I began to calm down.

“Finished?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’ll give you this though, you’re probably also the bravest human I’ve seen; it takes some serious guts to boss around a death god.”

There was a brief pause as my words sunk in. I had a feeling I had said what everyone else had once thought at one point or another. Mello was a very strange person. Brilliant yes, but strange…and maybe a bit psychotic, but hey, I wasn’t one to judge.

“So, are you going to keep watch, or not?”

My lips clenched into a scowl as my good humor immediately dissolved.

“Okay, let’s make something explicitly, perfectly clear here.” I took a few steps toward him. “The only reason I’m here is because shinigami law requires me to be. That does not make me your servant, alright? You do not get to order me around like one of these shit-for-brains asshats.” I motioned to the group of men surrounding us, stopping once I was right in front of him. He hadn’t moved an inch, his face only expressing the slightest hint of emotion. It was really starting to tick me off. “So, do we have an understanding?”

There was a tense silence, the people in the room waiting with bated breath for Mello’s response, until…

“Do it, and I’ll give you more chocolate.”

-snap!-

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d grabbed the blonde by the throat and yanked him to his feet. He audibly gasped in surprise and pain as I slammed his back against the wall above the couch. I found it immensely pleasing.

“Listen well, Pretty Boy, because I’m only going to say this once,” I leaned in close until we were perfectly eye-level. “Don’t fuck with me. Fuck with me, and you’ll regret it. You have my word on that.”

I dropped him back on the sofa-cushions and he glared up at me with hate-filled eyes.

“You...you…” He was so angry, he couldn’t think of anything to say. I knew that feeling well.

“Maybe when you’re ready to treat with me some respect, we can try this again.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, tightening my grip when he tried to shake it off, and leaned in again, hissing into his ear. “Your tricks won’t work on me. I’ve been dealing with your type for a long time now. I’m used to it.”

  “My type?” Mello whispered, caught off-guard again as I released his shoulder and stood up.

“Anyway, if you have any more questions regarding the Death Note, just give me a holler. Later.”

Black, feathery wings popped out of my back, and I flew up and out of the hideout so fast that Mello’s enraged shouts just barely reached my ears as faint whispers. I smiled in content as I settled on a high tree-branch, but it didn’t last long as I began to think about the recklessness of my past actions, and the young man whom was currently handling my notebook.

Hmm…Short-tempered, calculating, a bit on the arrogant side, chocolate addiction, late teens…There’s no doubt about it…It’s the Mello he told me about…

I held up my left arm and pulled down the shirt-sleeve, revealing a single letter carved into the flesh of my wrist and a list of names beneath it. Using the sharp tip of my pen, I began to add the names of the people I’d sentenced to death just a few minutes prior. I hoped that the familiar pain would be enough to distract me from my rapidly growing feeling of dread.

This might change things…

Alternate title for this chapter: HEYKIDSWANNASEEADEADBODY?

And before you ask, yes, Mello wearing black lipstick is totally canon. Don’t believe me? Look it up. Fabulous, no?

[jam-knife]

Letting his fingers slip around B's throat, he squeezed pretty tightly. "I don't want none of that jam shit involved. Got it?" He raised a brow down at the other, but his predicament was growing a little uncomfortable. Releasing his throat, he lightly put a foot to his chest and pushed him back. "That is if you work for it." He adjusted himself, before grabbing his chocolate.

B could’ve easily dodged Mello’s foot. He could have even dragged him to the floor too, and make him shut that insolent mouth of his. But he let the kid play the role of the boss, if only for a while.

“Alright then.” He grinned, narrowing his eyes. “But... I have one condition.”

B stood up and, quick as a flash, snatched the chocolate from Mello’s hand. The blonde was about to protest, but B placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down, forcing him to lie on the counter. If it came down to physical strength and ability, he was no match against the original Wammy’s second.

“You won’t be eating while I blow you, you brat.”

And without further ado, B pulled Mello’s pants down and took him into his mouth.