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sunmoonandspoonFor some reason, I forgot to put these up here back when it was actually Christmas. So now, two months later, here are the fanfics that I wrote for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
christmas_dn, a lovely little community which involved gift exchanges in the form of fics and fanart, and an advent calender.
The first one here, Taking Down The Mistletoe, was written foramanokawa_osa, using the prompt mistletoe. Bet you didn't see that one coming, huh? Anyway, since the pairing I was asked to write was Near/L, I had a hell of a time writing something that made sense. It's set at the orphanage, and since I wrote it well before the last chapter of the manga was announced, L's there, too. Anyway, in this story, Mello is a spastic lunatic, Near knows way too much about mistletoe, and L is extremely socially awkward. And yeah, this has slight L/Near, because I was asked to.
The second one, Snapped Bones, is a little more bizarre. The prompt was 'reindeer', which I found to be mildly ridiculous. It took me a long time to think of anything, but a conversation withmelloxchocolate gave me an idea. I wound up writing a really depressing story in which Mikami gets mauled by a reindeer.
Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!
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Taking Down The Mistletoe
byspeaky_bean
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In L's opinion, mistletoe has no place hanging in any of doorways at Wammy's House. Clearly, it's being used in the spirit of Christmas, a day that the orphanage celebrates with such enthusiasm that it's almost depressing. The cheeriness is enforced, and painfully false. You can always hear crying over the Christmas carols. The children miss their families on Christmas, or they miss the idea of them. Those who never celebrated Christmas with their families feel it all the same. It's the happy atmosphere that does them in. L himself is not overly affected. His Christmas memories are vague at best, so this reminder is like salt being thrown on whole skin. It's nothing.
The pain of the orphans is more than he can handle, however. He does not want to be here watching Mello trash the Christmas tree while Matt stands by, playing Pokemon and smoking. He does not want to listen outside the door while Linda cries her eyes out, miserable with the loss of her mother. The whole thing makes L very uncomfortable, he does not know what to say or how to comfort anybody. And he should, because they all look up to him, expect everything from him. Christmas makes L feel like a failure.
The only one who expects nothing of him is Near. Near is standing on a stepladder under the mistletoe, stone-faced as usual. He is taking it down, and L wonders if perhaps he objects to the misery that Christmas causes everyone as well. L shoves his hands in his pockets and stares up at Near, asks, "why are you taking that down?"
"Oh," he says, "Mello asked me to. Well, he ordered it. I didn't have anything better to do."
"Why's that?" L asks, glancing over at Mello, who has by now shattered most or the ornaments, and is being loudly chastised by Roger. "He does seem to have some sort of vendetta against Christmas."
"It's not that," Near says, stretching upwards to remove the plant. The ladder is wobbling, so L holds it tight. If he can do nothing else, he can at least save Near from minor injury. "He believes that the mistletoe serves no purpose except to encourage perverted behavior. One of the girls tried to kiss him under it earlier, so I think that must be what prompted it. He also said something about Matt being allergic, but I don't think that that's actually true."
L nods. "I see." He stands there, holding the ladder until Near steps down. Neither one speaks, it seems at first that neither one knows how to speak. Near's shirt has ridden up, and he spends several minutes readjusting it, avoiding conversation. All the words dry up in L's mouth, and he finds himself staring blankly at Near. This child is unnerving. L has never felt more awkward in his life. Finally, he comes up with something to say.
"Near," he says flatly, taking the mistletoe from his hands. "Do you know what the scientific name for mistletoe is?"
"There are multiple types of mistletoe, but the kind in question is viscum album." He whips this out in a minute flat, but L does not praise him. It's a small accomplishment for Near, and besides, Mello is within hearing range. "Do you know what any of its historical uses are?"
Near sits down, stares up at L and asks, "what is the point of this interrogation? I already know these things, so if you're trying to teach me then you're wasting your time."
He should smile at him, but he cannot bring himself to do so. His lips feel heavy, twitchy, and all he can do is tell Near that actually, he doesn't know, and he would like to be enlightened. This is not the case, but it doesn't matter, really. He just wants to get Near talking. Pretend that this pointless interaction makes up for all the crying children that he has failed to fix anything for. "Well," Near says, "it's sometimes used to treat circulatory and respiratory illnesses, as well as cancer. The Norse god Baldur was apparently killed be a weapon made of mistletoe. It's the state flower of Oklahoma. Christians believe it was once a tree, which was used to make the cross that Christ was hung on. Some people hang it up year round, to ward off lightening and house fires. Is that enough, or must I keep going?"
L shakes his head, says, "no, that's quite enough. That's impressive, Near, you're able to retain facts quite well. That's very important for detective work, if your memory works like a sieve then you'll never get anywhere. Congratulations." And he's about to turn to go, then. He almost does, but then Mello comes barreling up them, grabbing Near by the shoulders and shoving him in L's direction.
"Didn't I tell you to take the stupid plant down?!" Mello shouts, fists balled and panting hard. "There's still some hanging up there, Near, why aren't you doing what I fucking told you to do? I gave you good reasons, didn't I?!"
Near recovers himself, sits back down. "Given that L and I are the only ones standing here, and that no one would dare approach L in the manner you're concerned about, and given that you were obviously lying about Matt, no, Mello, you actually did not give me a good reasons," he says, with a vague smugness that L hopes will fade in time. Mello is obviously enraged by this, shaking and screaming and insisting that no, he did not lie, and what the hell makes him think that these morons have respect for L?
"They don't!" he snaps, dragging Near back into standing position, mumbling something about Near being a lazy fuck as he does. L wonders if he ought to chastise him for his swearing, since he's one of the few people Mello has any respect for, and kids really shouldn't be saying those words. But he says nothing, just stands there wishing he had something to eat right now, a distraction. Mello keeps shrieking, says, "nobody here respects L properly! You certainly don't! I bet you'd make out with him just because there was mistletoe here, wouldn't you, you sick freak!?"
"No, I wouldn't," Near says, and when he does Mello proves him wrong, grabs both their heads and rams them together, pushes them until their lips collide. L tastes chap stick and pulls back instantly, thinking that he absolutely won't allow this to be his or Near's first kiss. Near has actually puckered his lips-instinctually, L is sure. Mello stomps up the ladder and tears down the remainder of the mistletoe, runs towards Matt in a fury. Presumably, he wants to prove his previous claim about Matt being allergic true, but L does not much feel like watching. He should care, but all he can do is stare down at Near and try not to feel like a pedophile. He would never have done that if not for Mello's intervention, would he? No, no of course not. L shakes his head.
"I'm sorry about that," he says, turning away and shuffling off to the kitchen. He can smell cookies baking, and he needs to make sure he gets his share before the orphans devour them all. Near trails behind him, and L sighs, wishing he would just go play with his robots or something. "Mello…is probably not in a very good mood today. Since it's Christmas, and he used to celebrate it with his family…he probably misses them, and he's channeling his feelings into misbehavior. Don't think anything of it, Near."
Near stands staring at him for a moment or so, and then he nods, slowly. "Alright," he says. "Yes, I suppose that is his motivation. I…I'll see you later, L. Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas to you too," L says. The two of them part ways, and L goes off to stuff his face with cookies.
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Snapped Bones
byspeaky_bean
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It has been a long day, a bitterly cold and unpleasant day. Teru has had to break routine several times due to the weather--the gym was closed and he couldn't go, the busses were running sporadically, so he had to take the train to work, which made him late. Also, he had been forced to close the windows at a time other than the one normally prescribed for this activity. It was too cold, and though he knew it didn't work that way, he feared becoming ill.
The interruption of routine has thrown him off more than he cares to admit. He is reluctant to do anything more today, though of course he must work to serve Lord Kira. Due to having to stay late at work to deal with a client, he is behind on eliminating criminals. He intends to catch up immediately, but ten names in he finds himself in need of food. There is nothing in the house worth eating, since today was grocery day, and again due to late work he couldn't go. Take-out places won't deliver in this kind of snow, so if he wants to eat, he must leave.
Teru puts it off for about an hour, but he can only ignore his hunger for so long. His stomach is roaring, and he feels light-headed--he has not eaten since morning. Finding himself with no other option, he dresses himself and heads outside. The wind is so fierce he feels as if he's being beaten, so he readjusts his scarf, ensures that the ends line up and his face is covered. The snow nearly blinds him, and his glasses fog up from the scarf. He cannot see what's coming up, and there is no reason for him to expect it until it knocks him to the ground.
It's a huge, stamping creature that he can't identify and is too busy gasping in pain to attempt to. His chest is caving in from the kick, he can't breathe and the hulking beast is getting ready to hit him again. He can feel its hot breath snorting near him, its spittle falling like acid rain on his arm. The pain of being kicked is almost intense enough to stay his panic over this. Almost. His heart is still thumping in his chest.
Teru shuts his mind down, lets the beast tear him to bits. He does not understand what's happening or why, but he gets the feeling that God wanted this, and so he does not fight it. He can't fight it, anyway, he is being trampled, bitten, and gored, and when he finally catches a glimpse of it he sees Christmas. A reindeer. His mother laughing over the story of Rudolph, imported from the west. And now her death is in his eyes. His own, too. He cannot even process the pain anymore.
One last bite from Teru's arm, and the reindeer totters away, kicking snow in his face and snarling. It's spitting, rabid (rabid, RABID, could it possibly be rabid?!) and Teru can't call after it, can't call for help. He can only lie there in the snow, curling into himself and trying to ignore the snapped bones and bruised muscles. He feels around for his cell phone, tries to avoid touching it with the raw, skinless parts of his hands.
He does not recall the number for emergency services. He tends to block out the things his mother taught him, useful or not. All that comes to mind is Kira's number, and so that is what he dials on his phone. God will save him; Teru has served him well enough.
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"What in the world is this?" Light asks, laughing softly as he holds up a poorly knitted sweater, dotted in barely recognizable lumps of reindeer. "Did you make this, Sayu?"
Sayu blushes furiously, mumbles something about this being her first time trying to knit anything. "I just didn't have any money, and I wanted to give you something for Christmas…I didn't really finish in time, so it's kind of late, and it's not very good so it might not fit. Sorry. I should have just gotten Mom to make it or something."
"No, no, I like it," Light assures her, tugging it over his neck. It takes some effort, since the neck hole isn't much bigger than the sleeve holes, but he manages. The reindeer are overstitched at the mouth, giving them a rabid look, and Light can't help but laugh at this. "It's excellent for a first try, though you should have listened to Mom and started with a scarf or something easier. Anyway I really appreciate it. Thank you, Sayu."
Sayu grins widely, and Light wonders when it would be appropriate to take this horrid thing off. He refrains, though, he has not seen his sister in several months, and the last thing he wants is to set off alarm bells by acting like a jerk. So he sits chatting happily with his sister for as long as he can stand it, ignores his phone as it bleats at him from inside of his discarded jacket.
christmas_dn, a lovely little community which involved gift exchanges in the form of fics and fanart, and an advent calender. The first one here, Taking Down The Mistletoe, was written for
amanokawa_osa, using the prompt mistletoe. Bet you didn't see that one coming, huh? Anyway, since the pairing I was asked to write was Near/L, I had a hell of a time writing something that made sense. It's set at the orphanage, and since I wrote it well before the last chapter of the manga was announced, L's there, too. Anyway, in this story, Mello is a spastic lunatic, Near knows way too much about mistletoe, and L is extremely socially awkward. And yeah, this has slight L/Near, because I was asked to.The second one, Snapped Bones, is a little more bizarre. The prompt was 'reindeer', which I found to be mildly ridiculous. It took me a long time to think of anything, but a conversation with
melloxchocolate gave me an idea. I wound up writing a really depressing story in which Mikami gets mauled by a reindeer.Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!
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Taking Down The Mistletoe
by
speaky_bean--------
In L's opinion, mistletoe has no place hanging in any of doorways at Wammy's House. Clearly, it's being used in the spirit of Christmas, a day that the orphanage celebrates with such enthusiasm that it's almost depressing. The cheeriness is enforced, and painfully false. You can always hear crying over the Christmas carols. The children miss their families on Christmas, or they miss the idea of them. Those who never celebrated Christmas with their families feel it all the same. It's the happy atmosphere that does them in. L himself is not overly affected. His Christmas memories are vague at best, so this reminder is like salt being thrown on whole skin. It's nothing.
The pain of the orphans is more than he can handle, however. He does not want to be here watching Mello trash the Christmas tree while Matt stands by, playing Pokemon and smoking. He does not want to listen outside the door while Linda cries her eyes out, miserable with the loss of her mother. The whole thing makes L very uncomfortable, he does not know what to say or how to comfort anybody. And he should, because they all look up to him, expect everything from him. Christmas makes L feel like a failure.
The only one who expects nothing of him is Near. Near is standing on a stepladder under the mistletoe, stone-faced as usual. He is taking it down, and L wonders if perhaps he objects to the misery that Christmas causes everyone as well. L shoves his hands in his pockets and stares up at Near, asks, "why are you taking that down?"
"Oh," he says, "Mello asked me to. Well, he ordered it. I didn't have anything better to do."
"Why's that?" L asks, glancing over at Mello, who has by now shattered most or the ornaments, and is being loudly chastised by Roger. "He does seem to have some sort of vendetta against Christmas."
"It's not that," Near says, stretching upwards to remove the plant. The ladder is wobbling, so L holds it tight. If he can do nothing else, he can at least save Near from minor injury. "He believes that the mistletoe serves no purpose except to encourage perverted behavior. One of the girls tried to kiss him under it earlier, so I think that must be what prompted it. He also said something about Matt being allergic, but I don't think that that's actually true."
L nods. "I see." He stands there, holding the ladder until Near steps down. Neither one speaks, it seems at first that neither one knows how to speak. Near's shirt has ridden up, and he spends several minutes readjusting it, avoiding conversation. All the words dry up in L's mouth, and he finds himself staring blankly at Near. This child is unnerving. L has never felt more awkward in his life. Finally, he comes up with something to say.
"Near," he says flatly, taking the mistletoe from his hands. "Do you know what the scientific name for mistletoe is?"
"There are multiple types of mistletoe, but the kind in question is viscum album." He whips this out in a minute flat, but L does not praise him. It's a small accomplishment for Near, and besides, Mello is within hearing range. "Do you know what any of its historical uses are?"
Near sits down, stares up at L and asks, "what is the point of this interrogation? I already know these things, so if you're trying to teach me then you're wasting your time."
He should smile at him, but he cannot bring himself to do so. His lips feel heavy, twitchy, and all he can do is tell Near that actually, he doesn't know, and he would like to be enlightened. This is not the case, but it doesn't matter, really. He just wants to get Near talking. Pretend that this pointless interaction makes up for all the crying children that he has failed to fix anything for. "Well," Near says, "it's sometimes used to treat circulatory and respiratory illnesses, as well as cancer. The Norse god Baldur was apparently killed be a weapon made of mistletoe. It's the state flower of Oklahoma. Christians believe it was once a tree, which was used to make the cross that Christ was hung on. Some people hang it up year round, to ward off lightening and house fires. Is that enough, or must I keep going?"
L shakes his head, says, "no, that's quite enough. That's impressive, Near, you're able to retain facts quite well. That's very important for detective work, if your memory works like a sieve then you'll never get anywhere. Congratulations." And he's about to turn to go, then. He almost does, but then Mello comes barreling up them, grabbing Near by the shoulders and shoving him in L's direction.
"Didn't I tell you to take the stupid plant down?!" Mello shouts, fists balled and panting hard. "There's still some hanging up there, Near, why aren't you doing what I fucking told you to do? I gave you good reasons, didn't I?!"
Near recovers himself, sits back down. "Given that L and I are the only ones standing here, and that no one would dare approach L in the manner you're concerned about, and given that you were obviously lying about Matt, no, Mello, you actually did not give me a good reasons," he says, with a vague smugness that L hopes will fade in time. Mello is obviously enraged by this, shaking and screaming and insisting that no, he did not lie, and what the hell makes him think that these morons have respect for L?
"They don't!" he snaps, dragging Near back into standing position, mumbling something about Near being a lazy fuck as he does. L wonders if he ought to chastise him for his swearing, since he's one of the few people Mello has any respect for, and kids really shouldn't be saying those words. But he says nothing, just stands there wishing he had something to eat right now, a distraction. Mello keeps shrieking, says, "nobody here respects L properly! You certainly don't! I bet you'd make out with him just because there was mistletoe here, wouldn't you, you sick freak!?"
"No, I wouldn't," Near says, and when he does Mello proves him wrong, grabs both their heads and rams them together, pushes them until their lips collide. L tastes chap stick and pulls back instantly, thinking that he absolutely won't allow this to be his or Near's first kiss. Near has actually puckered his lips-instinctually, L is sure. Mello stomps up the ladder and tears down the remainder of the mistletoe, runs towards Matt in a fury. Presumably, he wants to prove his previous claim about Matt being allergic true, but L does not much feel like watching. He should care, but all he can do is stare down at Near and try not to feel like a pedophile. He would never have done that if not for Mello's intervention, would he? No, no of course not. L shakes his head.
"I'm sorry about that," he says, turning away and shuffling off to the kitchen. He can smell cookies baking, and he needs to make sure he gets his share before the orphans devour them all. Near trails behind him, and L sighs, wishing he would just go play with his robots or something. "Mello…is probably not in a very good mood today. Since it's Christmas, and he used to celebrate it with his family…he probably misses them, and he's channeling his feelings into misbehavior. Don't think anything of it, Near."
Near stands staring at him for a moment or so, and then he nods, slowly. "Alright," he says. "Yes, I suppose that is his motivation. I…I'll see you later, L. Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas to you too," L says. The two of them part ways, and L goes off to stuff his face with cookies.
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Snapped Bones
by
speaky_bean--------
It has been a long day, a bitterly cold and unpleasant day. Teru has had to break routine several times due to the weather--the gym was closed and he couldn't go, the busses were running sporadically, so he had to take the train to work, which made him late. Also, he had been forced to close the windows at a time other than the one normally prescribed for this activity. It was too cold, and though he knew it didn't work that way, he feared becoming ill.
The interruption of routine has thrown him off more than he cares to admit. He is reluctant to do anything more today, though of course he must work to serve Lord Kira. Due to having to stay late at work to deal with a client, he is behind on eliminating criminals. He intends to catch up immediately, but ten names in he finds himself in need of food. There is nothing in the house worth eating, since today was grocery day, and again due to late work he couldn't go. Take-out places won't deliver in this kind of snow, so if he wants to eat, he must leave.
Teru puts it off for about an hour, but he can only ignore his hunger for so long. His stomach is roaring, and he feels light-headed--he has not eaten since morning. Finding himself with no other option, he dresses himself and heads outside. The wind is so fierce he feels as if he's being beaten, so he readjusts his scarf, ensures that the ends line up and his face is covered. The snow nearly blinds him, and his glasses fog up from the scarf. He cannot see what's coming up, and there is no reason for him to expect it until it knocks him to the ground.
It's a huge, stamping creature that he can't identify and is too busy gasping in pain to attempt to. His chest is caving in from the kick, he can't breathe and the hulking beast is getting ready to hit him again. He can feel its hot breath snorting near him, its spittle falling like acid rain on his arm. The pain of being kicked is almost intense enough to stay his panic over this. Almost. His heart is still thumping in his chest.
Teru shuts his mind down, lets the beast tear him to bits. He does not understand what's happening or why, but he gets the feeling that God wanted this, and so he does not fight it. He can't fight it, anyway, he is being trampled, bitten, and gored, and when he finally catches a glimpse of it he sees Christmas. A reindeer. His mother laughing over the story of Rudolph, imported from the west. And now her death is in his eyes. His own, too. He cannot even process the pain anymore.
One last bite from Teru's arm, and the reindeer totters away, kicking snow in his face and snarling. It's spitting, rabid (rabid, RABID, could it possibly be rabid?!) and Teru can't call after it, can't call for help. He can only lie there in the snow, curling into himself and trying to ignore the snapped bones and bruised muscles. He feels around for his cell phone, tries to avoid touching it with the raw, skinless parts of his hands.
He does not recall the number for emergency services. He tends to block out the things his mother taught him, useful or not. All that comes to mind is Kira's number, and so that is what he dials on his phone. God will save him; Teru has served him well enough.
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"What in the world is this?" Light asks, laughing softly as he holds up a poorly knitted sweater, dotted in barely recognizable lumps of reindeer. "Did you make this, Sayu?"
Sayu blushes furiously, mumbles something about this being her first time trying to knit anything. "I just didn't have any money, and I wanted to give you something for Christmas…I didn't really finish in time, so it's kind of late, and it's not very good so it might not fit. Sorry. I should have just gotten Mom to make it or something."
"No, no, I like it," Light assures her, tugging it over his neck. It takes some effort, since the neck hole isn't much bigger than the sleeve holes, but he manages. The reindeer are overstitched at the mouth, giving them a rabid look, and Light can't help but laugh at this. "It's excellent for a first try, though you should have listened to Mom and started with a scarf or something easier. Anyway I really appreciate it. Thank you, Sayu."
Sayu grins widely, and Light wonders when it would be appropriate to take this horrid thing off. He refrains, though, he has not seen his sister in several months, and the last thing he wants is to set off alarm bells by acting like a jerk. So he sits chatting happily with his sister for as long as he can stand it, ignores his phone as it bleats at him from inside of his discarded jacket.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-22 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-23 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-18 01:34 pm (UTC)*wants to hug Mikami*
That was so sad! Poor Mikami...*cannot formulate a coherent response to this fic* Even though it was slightly crack...just far, far too sad to do anything but gape at :S Nicely done, anyhow. I have full on fangirl bone melt heart failure due to pitiful!Mikami :P
And if I can actually think beyond Mikami letting himself be mauled by a reindeer because he thinks it's god's will for a second (barely possible :P)...L's feeling of failure in the first fic was fascinating. I'm not exactly a Near/L fan, but individually they were both interesting.
*goes back to read the 2nd fic again...*