Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, there would be no chess unless 'strip' was associated with it. Oh Light-Kun, you're knight is threatening my queennnnnnnn.

Disclaimer Part 2: Kids, usually my work is usually rated M for language. This is not the case here. There is sex. Graphic sex. Not gonna tell you not to read it, I'm just warning you and your soul what's ahead.

L slammed the door to the outside world shut, fingers clenching tightly on the handle for a moment as the echo ringed down the hallway. He slowly relaxed his grip and strode over to his desk to angrily flip open the bottle of vodka and pour a double shot into the ever waiting glass on his desk.

He slammed it down like medicine and waited impatiently for the burn to sear its way down into his stomach where it pooled into a molten heat in his empty stomach. Taking his time this turn, he poured another and slammed it down again. Feeling better now that the icy heat was making its way through his system, he flicked on the radio with a finger tip and began to listen as the latest news from Paris poured in across long distance airwaves. From the civilian side of things, it seemed the work had gone well. Now, to check on the police side of things.

Cracking out fingers slowly, he rolled his neck once to release the day's tension before letting his fingers light upon the keyboard and go non-stop until he'd bullied his way past every defense on the Police Nationale's system, and began to read through the last 72 hours' reports. No mention of any suspicious actions on the ports. Good.

L leaned back in his chair, letting it tip back onto two feet before slamming back down and standing back up, wincing slightly as his body began to bear his weight again. His feet were covered in blisters from the rough leather that encased them, but he didn't have much of a choice in footwear in his current climate. Russia 's weather was a temperamental lover- at times heartbreakingly gentle with light winds and robin egg's blue skies, but at others she was cold, gray, and unforgiving.

L began to button up his jacket again, feeling the return of the stifling suffocation as he re-zipped the down-stuffed beast. Pulling up the hood and making sure his face was covered at least partially by the thick fur lining, he rechecked his baggy jeans for his guns, making sure that the layers protecting him from nature's wrath didn't stop him from being able to protect himself from the wrath of others. Satisfied he could draw all three pistols quickly, he opened up his door and glanced down the covered outdoor hallway. His neighbors' doors were all shut tight, not entirely unexpected for 3am, but L took no chances. He shut his door softly this time and locked it before slouching his shoulders and heading out towards his car.

The mantra of 'Fuck Moscow' ran through his head as he went, sidestepping frozen rats and wincing internally as the leather boots ran his feet ragged for a third time that day. He should really replace his thin cable socks that had so many holes in them they were practically worthless, but who had the time for sock shopping when you had a crime empire to run and people to kill?

Sliding into the seat of his car, he quickly tugged off his leather gloves with his teeth, needing to feel the wheel beneath his fingertips. Another reason why he hated winter- gloves diminished both the feeling of guns and cars, two of his favorite things. If they had also diminished the feeling of strawberries and vodka, L would have done away with the wretched things and that would be that. As it were, it wasn't practical to get frostbite on your trigger finger, so the gloves stayed.

He cranked the radio as he went, blasting a mind numbing mixture of Bad Balance to keep himself awake as he drove towards 'headquarters'. Speeding through the deserted late night streets, L felt a wave of melancholy as he stared at the empty world around himself.

The streets were dark, but the snow glistened under yellow street lights as he cruised into the warehouse district.

The world was quiet, hushed, paused. L wished he could capture this moment and let it reverberate forever. Let himself drown in an eternity of stillness, because the pressure of living was just too much. Let himself contemplate only one moment, one sliver of life instead of the overwhelming reality he dealt with everyday so that he could properly dissect all of the nuances of this one magical moment.

His self-induced trance ended as he pulled up alongside the seemingly abandoned warehouse, and he slid back into himself, blocking out any unnecessary details.

Instead of beauty, he noticed tracks in the snow, mud mixing in with muted white to create a Rorschach test of swirling footprints. Someone didn't wipe their tracks. Fuckers.

L quietly shut the ice cold metal door behind himself and slowly hunched down the long hallway, watching his shadow dance in front of him.

He heard a swell of voices from the open door that led into what had once been a factory floor and he paused to ascertain how many fuckwits he'd be expected to entertain. Five voices. Good, it was probably just the higher ups then.

Creeping in, he let his feet drag against the slick floor to announce his arrival. Four of the five faces turned to him, mixed looks of apprehension and amusement between them.

L hated that. Hated how the only two reactions to his presence were either fear or perverted entertainment. He nodded at the one man who had remained expressionless before settling himself down into a crouch on the ragged couch dragged in years ago from the staff room.

"Welcome, Lawliet." L waved a hand the greeting and was met with a chuckle.

"Gentlemen, we have good news. The fact that Lawliet is so graciously joining us means that the meth shipment went as planned, and there are no suspicions in the French police. I propose a toast." Vodka was passed around and L took the offered relief with two fingers, holding it delicately. He saw the man speaking send him a slight glare while the others took their glasses, so he cupped it properly in his whole fist.

Damn appearances.

They all slid the toxin down their throats at the same time, with many murmurs of praise to L as they went.

L just nodded curtly back at them, impatient for the man in charge to hand out his assignment so he could go home to his shitty apartment once again and drink more vodka and maybe eat an entire tiramisu.

"So boys, we have an order." There was a pause, and L tapped his fingers against the rough denim covering long underwear.

"Japan wants guns." L half listened as the details were run through, ignoring the inane questions passed around as they pretended to work. He'd be in charge of this order, same as he was in charge of every other major order. For them to pretend any different wasn't just a waste of time, it was annoying. And L had a tendency to get trigger happy when he was annoyed.

"Alright men, I think it's time to call it a night. We'll discuss this at the club tomorrow. Lawliet- stay with me." L ignored the rest of the men as they exited the cold room, and walked towards the one stately chair in the place where gray eyes identical to his own watched his approach.

"You need to work on getting to know them. I am not building this empire to have you dissolve it the moment you take over. Get off your fucking high horse." The last statement was hissed out as L looked away sulkily. He felt glove clad fingers grab his chin and he was forced back into a stormy eye lock.

"Listen to me Lawliet. You may be the best, you may be a genius, but you are one man. We are a family here, we are the bratva- brotherhood. Understand that and maybe I'll worry less about the day I die." L looked away, hoping he appeared properly cowed.

"Yes Father." A long-suffering sigh escaped his father's lips, but L was sure he'd drop the subject of L needing to know his fellow 'brothers' in arms for now.

"Good. Now, about Japan…"

Light Yagami pulled his hood lower down on his face before sliding into the classroom through the back. The black sweatshirt material hid him fairly well and he didn't receive any odd looks as he pulled the leather black notebook he was using for this class. Twirling his pen idly between his fingers as he waited for the professor to show, he glanced around at his fellow Tokyo University freshman.

He didn't think he'd ever felt more uncomfortable in his life.

The sweater sets on the girls were enough to set his teeth on edge, but it was the button ups finished with starch on the boys that were really freaking him out. He hadn't seen this much prep school since junior high.

Shit Japan, what the hell? Where was the vagrant youth he'd heard so much about?

The professor finally entered and took up his mantle at the lectern and Light breathed a sigh of relief as the lecture began and he could push out all thoughts of exactly how much he didn't belong here and just focus on memorizing the words.

An hour and a half flew by as Light absorbed the finer points of Japanese law and he was actually feeling relaxed enough to push his hood down as he left the classroom, forgetting exactly why it was he'd been hiding all day.

"Ah! It's Kira!"


Light felt the stares of his fellow classmates and a few lacking a shame gene came forward and awkwardly asked him for autographs. Smiling thinly, he pressed pen to paper quickly before escaping to the waiting Escalade that he'd spotted as he'd entered into the courtyard.

Speed walking over to it, he dove into the back seat to a round of laughter.

"Fucking-a Kira, the bitches here are not hot. Dunno why you chose this school instead of J-U." Light glared at his manager, ignoring him as he pulled out his laptop and headphones, going back to re-arranging the new beat he was working on.

Light lost himself in the harsh beat slamming into his brain and he didn't even notice as they pulled up to his label's skyscraper, not acknowledging the outside world until the bright sunlight streaming through his window was replaced with florescent garage lights.

He shut down his laptop and slid it back into his backpack, hopping out the vehicle smoothly and tugging his hat to the side a bit before following his manager's back through the garage an into the elevator that would take them straight to the studio.

"You feeling okay, Kira? We gotta get this last beat down and then its vacation time baby. 'Course, you'll be stuck in school, but I'm going blow the hell out of Tokyo and hit up LA for a while…" Light gave a half grin, quirking up the left side of his mouth.

"I'm feeling fine. I just need to get this beat out before I lose it. I got the flow in my head, time to get it down on the tape." Light's manager nodded like he understood before going back to talking about Light's upcoming schedule.

"And then whenever you go on Winter break, we'll start the promotion of the album and you'll take Spring semester off to do TV appearances. We've already scheduled you to perform a few pieces for your collabs, which will lead in nicely to your new album's promotion. Tour starts beginning of summer, ends right in time for you to be back in school. Sound good?" Light nodded, tapping his fingers against the metal walls of the elevator as he ran through his rap again in his mind. Fuck he needed to get into the studio.

Finally escaping the metal box, he greeted his producers warmly before beginning to warm up and run through his last track with the sound producer. Finally hitting the inside of the studio he launched into his lyrics, running through the slams and boasts easily, feeling his breathing become easier as he ran through the lyrics, spitting out the slams and boasts naturally.

Light held the headphone closer to his ear as he ran up the hardest part of his album's last rap, words flying faster and faster until the chorus came back in and he stepped away from the mic to breathe.

He got the thumbs up from his producers and he stepped out to a warm round of applause and a bottle of Armand de Brignac chilled, waiting for him to pop it. Chuckling, he did and passed the bottle around as his team as they began to talk shit about how much the track would sell.

Light sat back against the soft black leather couch crammed into the studio and enjoyed the haze that came over him as his body released all of the stress that had come with putting together this album. Double sided, one version for Japan- one for the USA. He was making the biggest jump of his career while going to the best university in Japan to appease his father.

Mastering rapping in English hadn't been hard, most Japanese MC's grew up listening to the classics imported from the USA, and Light was a devoted follower of Jay Z, Nas, Ludacris, TuPac, and Run DMC. But the thought of joining them, competing against them- terrifying.

He shook the thought off and tuned in again as plans for the night were passed around.

"I'm hitting up a club, I don't know about y'all. I need to blow off some steam and steam off some blow, if you know what I mean." Light's sound producer glanced over at him.

"What you say Kira? You down?" Light nodded his chin up in affirmation and went back to drinking his champagne before slowly rolling up to standing, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Yah, I'll see y'all at the usual spot around 11. And don't bring anything sketch in, my dad's been talking up some big bust for weeks and warning me like I'm not fucking Kira. Still, if you're rolling high, you're ass is rolling solo- got it?" He was blown off, as he typically was after telling his crowd not to do anything illicit and the men went back to talking shit. Light rolled his eyes.

"Whatever bitches. I'm out. Yo, keys." He was passed his keys from his manager and he once again entered the elevator to bring him down to the garage so he could finally get behind the wheel of his baby- a black Mercedes that he'd bought after his first album hit gold three years ago. The smooth ivory leather seats wrapped around him as he sank in, thinking he should visit his family for once before heading home to get ready to go out to drop his IQ a few points.

Plan decided, he called up his sister to warn him mom to prepare an extra meal before he pulled out onto crowded Tokyo streets.

L meticulously took apart the gun and began to clean it slowly as the man tied up in front of him squirmed.

L didn't even look at him, instead focusing on reaching into every nook and erasing every spec of dirt from his beloved Magnum. The man let out a whimper, and L continued to ignore him. Satisfied with the condition of his gun, he pieced it back together, and readied it to shoot. The whimpers grew louder.

"You know why we've brought you here, don't you?" Vehement shakes of denial occurred and L felt the urge to just shoot the man and end his little interrogation session early. Lucky for the man, he had principles.

"You tried to sell us out to the Italians, that's why. I have it on good authority that you were planning on letting a whole shipment of prime retail just go missing and mysteriously wind up in Italy. Now…that's not what I told you to do with that shipment, now is it?" Again the non-verbal denial.

L walked over slowly and gently removed the duck tape, causing as little pain as possible. The man stared hopefully up at L and L smiled back.

The man's head whipped with a crack as L's palm struck his cheek, the slap ringing in both their ears. Another whimper. L was disappointed, he'd hoped those would stop after he removed the duct tape.

"Who was it who initially contacted you to derail the shipment?"

"N-no one! It was an accident! There was no deal with the Italians, I swear." L pulled out a razor blade, and ran it down the table he was sitting on, watching as it dug into the wood.

"Try again." The man's eyes were wide with fear, showing off popping blue veins the whites of his eyes.

"It..It was the Marciano's! They told me you had struck a deal with them, that you wanted it to happen. I thought…I thought you were making a move against your father, L I swear, please! They had your mark on the papers, I thought…I thought you were finally taking over. I'm so sorry!" L heaved out a sigh. Looks like he wouldn't get to use his razor after all.

L left the room as the blood was still trailing red tears down the wall behind the now-deceased mafia member, nodding at the blond lounging against the doorway.

"Mihael." Mihael took a last drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the floor and stubbing it out under a thick sole.

"L." L led the blond down the dingy hallways of the warehouse, opening up a door at random and expectantly looking at Mihael to enter. He did and L followed, shutting the door behind them.

"What have you got for me?" A plain envelope was thrown into waiting hands and L tore into it, examining what Mihael had gathered on Japan.

"It's going to be a tough gig. Their police is really riled up over the drugs coming in and out, guns are going to be even harder. Still, it's doable for you. Only for you, but that's the way you like it." L nodded in vague acknowledgement of the blonds' slightly envious compliment as he scanned through the list of ports and airports in Japan and the security related to each one.

"Let Japan know they'll have their guns within the next six weeks. And I'm demanding an extra 20,000 American for every one of my men that I'm going to lose pulling off this shit headed job. Let my father know I'll be out of Russia doing research and making connects for the next three weeks." Mihael nodded and lit up another cigarette.

"And Mihael?" Blue eyes glanced up at him, and L traced the scars over one of those beautiful eyes with his own.

"Stop smoking, it's bad for you." Mihael's laughter followed him out as he pulled up flights on his phone.

Tokyo it was.

Light slid into the VIP section with a bottle of rose champagne in his hand, weaving through the undulating crowd with seasoned ease. He tossed the bottle to a hanger-on of his crowd, some cousin of one of his producers, to open and sat back as he observed the party going on around him.

Most of the men he'd come with where drunk off their asses and trying to pick up girls, or drunk off their asses and off with their already picked up girls. Light had a pleasant buzz going, but he wasn't so far gone as to start groping around for midnight company.

A song of his own came on and Light winced as the DJ began to bastardize it by cutting it with some pop bullshit. Light frowned. Seriously, they were mixing his track with Misa Misa?

Making a mental note to call the club owner tomorrow and demand that it never happen again, Light watched the grinding that his music inspired. Kira- responsible for hangovers and babies born out of wedlock everywhere.

Light grabbed his glass of the champagne and headed back down the stairs to the main club, thinking maybe the people watching would be better down there.

Light knew he was a bit of a loner for a rap star, but he just couldn't get into the madness that descended around his crew whenever they were presented with a strobing light and bone shaking bass line mixed with scantily clad women.

Besides, it was his intellect and isolation combined with a serious affinity for flipping words around a rhythm that had led to his success in the first place. His crowd might be a bunch of morons when their insides were pickled by alcohol, but usually they were intelligent, fiercely clever, and able to appreciate Light's unique vision for his brand. Kira was a hardcore, unique rapper that followed on the trail left by the originators of Japanese hip hop by spitting out lyrics that simultaneously rocked Japanese society at the core while changing the nature of the very language.

Unfortunately for Light, Kira was also expected to be a party animal. But Light didn't mind too much, the people watching helped with his lyrics and he could even be pulled out his existential ennui by enough alcohol every now and again, so Light continued to go out without much complaint.

Reaching the bar now, Light settled into a seat, the one next to him taken up by a hunched over man in a white wife beater. Shooting the man a weird look for wearing such informal attire in a really upscale club, he waved the bartender over and put in an order for a shot of vodka. Then Light ordered a second one. Just in case.

"Big drink for a little boy." The voice next to him surprised Light, it was low and lightly accented- Russian?

"I can handle myself, thanks." Gray eyes met his in amusement and Light tensed as the stranger turned towards him and Light got a full view of the man.

Muscle was the first thought Light had. The man was much bigger than his hunched posture initially led Light to believe. Though Light was relatively sure he was around the same height as the man, the other had pounds of muscle on him- arms pushed passed Light's easy tone and into the realm of functional muscle. Those were arms used to lifting heavy boxes and able to throw lesser men around.

The next thought was to trace the tattoos decorating those arms, simple green ink was the only color, but the images were intricate- a gorgeous women on the left arm with a slurry of Russian underneath it along with dates.

A memorial tattoo.

"Can you?" Light heard amusement in the rough voice and he tried to contain the shiver that wanted to be let up his spine.

"You're obviously foreign, so I'll forgive you for not knowing- but I'm a bit of a big deal around here. I've been handling this kind of liquor since I was 16. It's a perk to being a famous rapper."

A muted chuckle met his boast and gray eyes flicked up to mix with amber ones.

"If only one could buy that kind of forgiveness in Church." Light smiled thinly, beginning to feel uncomfortable. The stranger was toying with him.

"Only for the first time, after that I do demand tidings." The man's hand brushed lightly over his own as he reached and took Light's second shot, tipping it back and Light's eyes followed the curve of his long, pale neck as he swallowed.

"And how do you take your worship?" Light was incredibly glad that the club was dark and the bar had been cast in virtually impenetrable shadows by the lights flashing on the dance floor. All the better for no one being able to see the blush that was creeping up his neck at the low accented monotone that was just so damn…


"Mostly record sales, but you can also buy my posters or clothing line." Light tried to sound unaffected, but the strange man's eyes were more intoxicating than the vodka left in his shot glass.

"And if I want to buy a private performance?" Light swallowed hard at the implication and the man leaned in, soft lips against the shell of his ear. "I'm in town for a few weeks on business only- and I guarantee your shit won't end up on anybody's tabloid. Meet me out back."

He got up, tossed a large wad of cash on the bar table and exited, sliding on a large fur lined jacket as he went.

Light stared after him, shocked.

The man had just suggested that Light meet him out back, abandoning his drunken crew in preference of going to a most likely sketchy hotel and getting fucked into the mattress.

And Light was considering it.

He'd never been one to too closely examine his own sexuality, his lyrics were often explicit enough on his preference of being with women, and he had a tough image viciously protected by his PR team, so much so that no one had ever questioned why Kira flew solo.

But Light knew he was attracted mostly to minds and very occaisonally dangerously sexy men in bars with tattoos running the lengths of their muscled arms. Taking a last shot for courage, Light told the bar tender to keep his tab open for his crew and to give himself a large tip, before shooting off out the back of the club.

L waited outside, breathing in the cold air slowly- letting it refresh himself after the torture he'd endured just to get a decent drink. He hadn't had time to contact the underground proprietors of his preference of establishment yet, so he'd gone straight to the first place he'd seen that might have quality vodka.

And the vodka had been good. The cute boy playing gangsta next to him in name brand labels had been even better.

L smirked and eyed the door he was expecting to open soon. The boy had been wrapped in fashionable clothing, looking as pristine as a musician in Japan would be expected to. His casual swagger had attracted L the moment the boy had set down the stairs from the VIP, and L was glad he'd decided to approach the boy. He'd be a great start to enjoying Tokyo.

The door opened and L enjoyed the slight flush on the youth's face as they met eyes. L just inclined his head and slid his hands into his pockets as they padded down the alley. L gracefully jumped the fence, needing only a few brief moments on the metal to scale the ten foot obstacle. He landed easily and turned.

"Come on. You don't want to be followed, and neither do I." The boy cast a cautious look over his shoulder, before scaling up- taking much longer than L had.

Oh well, it's not like it was a part of the boy's professional skill set, unlike L.

As soon as the boy had dropped besides L, L took off, weaving carefully through the cars parked in the back lot until he came to his own- a rusty red Honda he'd bought straight off a lot with cash upon touchdown in Tokyo. It was a piece of shit, but no more than L's normal car and it drove fine. All that mattered.

The boy slid in beside him shutting his door and glanced at L nervously.

"So…what was your name?" Ah damn, L knew he'd been forgetting something.

"Lawliet. Yours?" A slight smile graced Adonis lips.

"Light." Ah, L got the joke.

"Good, now hush while daddy drives." Light, the appropriately named pseudo gangsta, began to fiddle with the radio and L let him, nodding in approval as a rough voice came over the airwaves to a steady rhythm. L listened passively, letting the clever word plays in the lyrics tickle at the back of his mind as he searched for a hotel of no particular quality.

"That's me." Light said as the song ended and another one with a catchier beat began.

"This?" L said, glancing over and frowning at the crooning smooth voice came out from the speakers, singing something about a cell phone. L seriously re-considered where he was about to stick his dick, before remembering that popular music was not only not a sexually transmitted disease but it was also not contagious.

"No, before." L arched an eyebrow.

"Good shit." Light nodded succinctly, but L caught the self-pleased smile on the younger boy's lips as they pulled into the parking lot of a neon lit up hotel.

L captured the youth's lips the moment they were inside a room, pushing him down onto the mattress and demanding his tongue's right to explore at leisure. Access was granted and L tasted the sweet aftertaste of champagne and vodka as he twirled his tongue around to a chorus of moans.

He slid his hand up small swells of muscle underneath the boy's t-shirt, lightly tracing the small line of hair that ran from his belly button into his boxers. He pulled away and Light shrugged out of his own jacket, tossing the expensive leather piece onto the ground without regard. L had the honors of pulling off Light's shirt, before he began to explore down the tan chest with his mouth-pausing only to give attention to hardened pink nipples on his way south.

He slid off a belt that had a large ornate cross as the closure with the same regard Light had shown for his jacket and then toyed with the opening to the other man's jeans.

Light growled at him and L slid them off, before taking off his own wife beater- jacket long forsaken. He felt Light's eyes tracing his chest and L leaned forward to press a kiss to Light's neck.

"Like what you see?" Light nodded once before beginning to run his fingers up the muscled plateau of L's exposed chest. He seemed fascinated by the various tattoos that decorated the firm chest and L straddled him so Light could better explore. The boy leaned up and gently kissed up from L's abs to where L met him and kissed him hard.

L pulled away suddenly and took off Light's boxers with one motion, leaving the boy's erection red and attention demanding in its sudden appearance.

"Spread 'em." A half-laugh escaped Light's lips, but he followed orders and L pulled off his own jeans, not having bothered with underwear after escaping the ice box of a country he called home. Light groaned at the sight of L leaning over him, hard and excited and L took the opportunity of Light's mouth being open to slide a finger into the boy's mouth. Light sucked willingly, and L could just picture his mouth wrapped around himself. L kissed the boy's neck again, sucking and marking viciously. Once his finger was deemed an acceptable level of wet, L pulled it out and gently ran his fingers against the boy's entrance.

Light gave out a hiss as L suddenly pressed down on the inside of one thigh as he slid his finger in, working the slick digit in. L continued to stretch with just one before grabbing the luggage bag he'd carried in with him from the car and groping around for the Astroglide. Finding it, he methodically lubed up three of his fingers, making sure Light was watching with wide amber eyes. Returning to the spread out man in front of him, he slid two fingers back in, making sure to stroke upwards and find that one spot hard.

"Ah, shit Lawliet!" L chuckled, sliding the fingers in a gentler rhythm as he continued to massage Light's prostate, turning the man into a passionate mess held together only by the control L was maintaining over the other's arousal. He was not going to let Light come until he said, and that was that.

Deeming the boy acceptably prepared, L didn't pause at all in his fingering before he slid himself in, not giving Light the time to tense up. His trickery was rewarded with a slurry of cusswords as L continued to hit Light's prostrate, this time without his fingers. L grabbed the boys legs and led them to wrap around his waist as he leaned down and captured Light's mouth in a dance that mimicked the one their bodies were engaged in.

L continued his thrusting, feeling his own body tensing as it longed to let loose and fill Light. He began to stroke the brunet's erection, lightly stroking before grabbing hard to a hiss. Light's fingers were digging permanent tracks into the mattress and the sight of the boy so obviously in pleasure stirred on L's own climax, and he came hard after Light, only barely catching himself from falling onto the younger boy.

Disentangling himself, he fell onto his side of the queen sized bed and glanced over at Light, who was still seeing stars above his head.

L had the feeling he would like Tokyo.

Author's Note: Anddddddd I just lost the respect I'd worked so hard to achieve on this website.

Pre-emptive Q&A time!

Q. Fucking a wordbombs, Light's a rapper?

A. Yah bitch, wanna fight about it? Just kidding, just kidding. Yes, he's a rapper. Yes, there's a back story. Yes, I'll explain it and try to keep it vaguely in character.

Q. Fucking a wordbombs, L's a mafia boss?

A. No, dipshit. L's a mafia boss's son. .

Q. Fucking a wordbombs, do you have any standards?

A. Hahahahaha, no.

Q. Wordbombs...Tale of Two Death Notes. Good Cop Bad Cop. Change of Circumstances. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

A. Don't drink and ffn.

Q. I hate you now.

A. Not a question.

Q. How is this going to affect your real stories that have plot and characterization and vague attempts at good writing?

A. It's not. This is my speed, my whip-crack-a-lack, my 'write it when I can't physically bear to write anything else' story. Because of that, it will probably be updated quite frequently, but unless there's a huge outcry for more (hint hint) it will not be my top priority. My priority is a) ToTDN 2) GCBC and #) Circumstances Change- the sequel to CoC.

Also, just so you know, this is dedicated to the lovely halfpromise who encouraged its inception in every way. She is, however, an author with standards- so go read her fic A Cure for Love which updates frequently and is amazing. Also, it's vaguely cannon, unlike this hot glittery mess.

I love all of you! Kisses!