The Death Note iPod Drabbles.
How it works:
Put your iPod/MP3 on shuffle.
Write down the first 10 songs that come on.
Write a drabble for each song.
So, there will probably be quite a few pairings and POV's and stuff. So, I'll just let you know, I don't own Death Note or any of the songs. This depresses me XDDD
1 Sexting-Blood On The Dancefloor (Oh dear)
Matt's POV
I stared in horror at my small cell phone's screen. "Sext Me." Followed by a small less than three sign. I knew it wasn't Mello, the number was unfamiliar to me. I just shrugged it off and put it gently back in my jeans pocket, maybe they'd get the hint and leave me alone.
Not five minutes later, my phone beeped again. I flipped it open, dread settling across my entire being. It was a picture message. I had to open it and delete it, or else, Mello would kill me when he went through my phone later.
There was a message attached "Love me or hate me, but you wanna fuck me." I nearly gagged at the message. What kind of sick freak was this?
I opened the message, not meaning to look at it, really, I didn't I'm not a sick child. But, you know, sometimes your eyes betray you and just sort of...take stuff in.
I felt my lunch whirl around in my stomach.
Roger.
Butt-assed naked.
Licking whipped cream off his fingers, a small, horny smile playing at his lips, his dick in the other hand.
Watari's name written down his chest.
I quickly texted him, "I think you've got the wrong number." And went to find Mello. I kind of needed to look at something beautiful for a while.
2 Remember The Name-Fort Minor
Third Person XD
L looked at his percentage chart. He got kind of a sick pleasure out of this, trying to catch Light-No, Kira, he knew. Because, really this whole job was about making a story, about making life interesting. He didn't want the status, or respect, though he liked it.
Mostly it was just luck, skill, and pleasure.
Blankly, he took in the small numbers, and notes written neatly in English so Light would have issues understanding. Well, without a translator, anyway.
He smiled quietly to himself, taking a sip of his tea, clinking his teeth gently against the rim of the cup.
"Justice will prevail, my friend."
3 Brick By Boring Brick-Paramore
Misa's POV about her childhood
I've always been sort of a lonely child. Forced to make up my own fairy tale world, a place of which my mother could not comprehend. I'd almost completely forgotten the taste of reality, a feat I found myself slightly proud of.
One day, I wanted to build a castle. I remember that, so, I stold a shovel from my father's garage, and began to dig. The hole lengthening, widening, and deppening.
And then, Light found me.
Yes, he was a childhood friend, though, I'm surprised he doesn't remember this. He found me, curled up on the floor of my almost-built castle, the sticks high above me. He was my prince, and a mischievious one at that.
And then he left.
Just left me one day, without saying goodbye. Everyday, I would visit that castle, that world of magic. Wondering what happened to the love that I had shared with light. It wasn't real, I couldn't touch it, taste it or smell it.
But neither was the world I had created.
Finally, I found him one day, again. I loved him, I still do.
That was the day I went back to my childhood home, and with one swift motion, knocked down the castle. The sticks broke and fell around me.
Because now, I had something real.
4 We Both Go Down Together The Decemberists
Light
As we stand here, the cliffs rising so high we can't see over them. I know you're afraid of heights, and that's why you cling to me.
Two completely different worlds, you were brought from parents who don't care, who never wanted a child, and therefore, got rid of him. I come from wealth, I'm beautiful, a place where I was wanted a needed to do nothing to survive.
Do you remember when we first met? It was a dark day, and I found you, nearly dead, coiled up in the grass of a clearing. It was the same clearing where I first took you.
Though, I know my parents will never consent to this. They want me to be with a sweet, untouched, virgin. And that's why, I must do this, I hold you close as I jump.
We fall leaving our hearts above us, intertwined with their shared love. The love no one will comprehend.
I stare upward, smiling, as we begin our descent.
Together, always.
5 30 Minutes TaTu
Mello's POV
Dear Mom and Dad, forgive me.
I know you can't feel it, you can't hear the echoes of my laughter as I grew up, the tinkle of gentle windchimes in the breeze. The wind chimes that mark every mistake I've make.
I've considered this a lot. Trying to decide if I should write this, after all, I could lose, and you won't accept me, wherever you are.
I have thirty minutes to tell you this, for, that's when I'll die.
So, I'm going to tell you.
It took me a long time to decide what to tell you, but I love him.
I've loved him from the moment I sat behind him on a carousel, the one in Berlin that you took me to countless times.
This carousel now marks my life. Always behind him, whispering his name, an attempt to catch up. But I know I never will, especially now.
I just wanted to let you know, that I love him. I hope you accept me and welcome me into Heaven with you.
Love,
Mello
6 Ordinary Day-Vanessa Carlton
Mello About Matt
It was just an ordinary day when I first saw him.
He looked like just an ordinary boy, with his head turned up to the sky. He had glanced at me, those emerald eyes beckoning me towards him. A small smile at his face. I moved closer, realizing for the first time, how he shone.
Sudeenly, he wasn't so ordinary, he was beautiful. Different, unique.
He said ordinary words, but to me, they were shards of memories, things that I would hold in my heart forever. We would stare into each other's eyes for hours on end his vision always boring out mine.
"Please come with me. Touch the stars, see them with me." He whispered those words the last time we spent time together, his hand reaching for mine, closing gently around my feminine fingers.
Now, staring at his blank, dead face, confirming that it really is Mail Jeevas, also known as Matt. I long for that feeling.
Remembering that ordinary day, and the ordinary boy who turned out to be the most unordinary thing ever to grace my life.
7 I Will Follow You Into The Dark-Death Cab For Cutie
Mello's POV
Someday, you're going to die, Matt.
But I'll be right behind you, I'll follow you into the unknown. I don't know what will be there, but I'll be right beside you, holding your hand, guiding you to wherever we end up.
When I was in Catholic school, I used to be beaten often for telling the nuns that I loved you. But I knew it was right. I only wanted you, so, I just stopped going. All for you.
Matt, I'll do anything for you.
We've seen a lot, from deaths to explosion. You're worn out, life's getting boring. I know you're sick, you won't last long. But, don't cry, I'll be holding you soon, just like this, again. We'll be in the dark.
Because I'll follow you everywhere.
8 Swing Life Away-Rise Against
Wammy Kids in general
The memories come in different varieties, some loud and clear, and some to decipher. All of us surging toward our goal, losing some along the way, appropriating scars, just trying to write our own stories.
The memories of the old adirondak swing on the front porches, swinging life away to happy music. But we've been here too long, it's time to go.
We made friend, some that are barely known, but the times we've shared and the talks of places we'll go cloud my mind. I wouldn't trade those moments for the world.
Gentle smiles, sunlit days and late nights, they all seemed to go by so quickly. Just swung away. Because we know we'll be just fine.
Let's try hard to never forget.
9 I Hate Everything About You-Three Days Grace
LxLight
I lie awake, and I know you are too. The smell of our sweat and sex still thick in the air. I know you'll leave, but I haven't thought to miss you yet.
Feelings clash around inside my chest,colliding and create one blind emotion.
\
I hate you.
But if that's true, why the hell can't I stay away? I hate everything about you, your wide, oversized, eyes, messy black hair, evil smirk.
But I love it. The game I'm playing with your mind, making you think that I love you too. And I know you know I'm just playing a head game.
You hate me too, don't you?
But we both get sick, disgusting pleasure from it.
Even though, I hate you, I can't get you off my mind, and I can tell by the way that you always glance at me. I'm almost always on yours.
…
...Let's just hope I don't fall into my own trap.
10 When I Get Home You're So Dead-Mayday Parade
Matt about Mello
I watch the waves crash against the beige shore, every part of my body hurting. Are we supposed to feel this way when we end?
Or is this just a cliché? Am I just being a heartbroken, selfish cliché?
This is my last time saying sorry.
I ended it, I know, but I can barely function without you.
Does this give you pleasure? You fucking whore. I bet you're already messing around, I can almost taste him on your lips, hear you screaming in utter ecstasy while he pounds into you, his pale hands resting on your thin hips.
Girls make boys cry.
But boys can also make boys cry.
That's the moral of this story...
End Kind of sucked, this is hard I'm sorry. XD
Death Note Drabbles
Picasso
7/21/10.