FINALLY! Did the rewrite! I've actually had it finish for a while; I just wasn't able to get to an actual computer. :P Anyways, I should have this written as several chapters (3-4) instead of a prologue so I'm making this chapter one. :D

Oh, and I don't care how accurate anything is in this. XD It's just fanfiction, not a novel. :D

Warnings!: Cursing, gore, violence, Yaoi (background KomuiReever, later Lucky, slight Laven, and the overall Yullen), Yuri (eventual RoadLena), Hetero (slight LavLena), and anything else that might come up~. :3 That's the warning for the entire fanfiction, FYI.

I do not own DGM, Katsura Hoshino does. :D


Allen groaned as he slammed his head against his writing desk, his ink well jumping slightly, splattering black liquid onto the corner of his paper. He didn't bother moving, the hard, cool oak surface feeling good against his forehead. The whitette had been spending the past three days working on nothing but several separate monologues, barely stopping long enough to eat the mountain of food his house mate, Lenalee Lee – a young woman from China, would bring him. The only thing he could feel currently was an immense thirst, a cramping right hand, and the great need of sleep.

The turning of the doorknob of his study stirred the Brit, but he still did not move. He already knew who it was, and honestly, he didn't want to deal with his agent.

His agent, a young blond man who just graduated college with a Masters degree in Humanities by the name of Timcanpy Marian, circled the older, his amber colored eyes studying him closely. By the way he saw it, Allen Walker, an infamous English novelist, decided to put off his work (namely, writing a monologue to sequel a fantasy novel he wrote the year prior named Fairy of the Ark, writing a monologue to begin a horror series called The Demon Within My Mind, and writing a short romance monologue called Forever and After), panicked when the deadline got close, and procrastinated on everything to have it all finished. With a long, skinny finger, he poked the older's cheek. "Allen," he drawed out innocently, "it's time to get up or do you want Cross to dump more debts on you?"

Allen sat up grudgingly, a large red spot on his forehead. "No…" he whined childishly, "I've been writing for three days straight while running on only four hours of sleep and six gallons of caffeine. Please don't tell Master…" His head slammed against the desk again, this time, not disturbing the ink well. "Speaking of, go get me some coffee so I will have the… strength to… stay awake…" He trailed off as his eyes closed, allowing him to fall into the embrace of Hypnos*.

Timcanpy glared slightly. "Who do you think you are?" he implored, "The Queen of England?" He sighed, knowing that his white haired client wasn't awake to hear him. The blond man threw another glare the whitette's way before collecting the three monologues from underneath the mass of white. "I'll be back with coffee for you, I guess…"

With his hand on the doorknob, Timcanpy was about to leave the room when his face was met with the door roughly as a certain hyper-active red head bounded into the room, resulting in the forgetting of the bitter drink. "Allen!" he cried excitedly, "You won't believe what the old Panda just told me!" He then noticed his friend was out like a light, so, in a way, completely and utterly ignoring him. He pouted, something quite unbefitting of a young gentleman. "It's rude to ignore your guests, Allen!"

"It is also rude to barge in unannounced," hissed Timcanpy, making his presence announced from behind the door. "Also, you hit me in the face!" He huffed angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not to mention he needs his rest." The blond then continued to grumble to himself about something along the line of stupid novelists and their need to rush on their monologues. After the small rant to himself, he sighed. "Anyways, what is it that you have to tell Allen so badly that you ran in here like you won the world's best cup of tea and you wanted to share it, Mr. Lavi Bookman Junior?"

"Okay, first of all, that simile failed terribly," Lavi told him, "and secondly, Bookman just told me that I can choose four people to come with me to Japan!" He began to jump up and down happily and like the total fanboy he was. "I already asked Komui and Lenalee and they're coming, so now I have to ask you and Allen!" Suddenly, he stopped, looking serious as he pointed at the mentioned British man slumped in his seat, his head still against the surface of his desk. "Now wake him up," he ordered.

"What?!" Timcanpy cried. "Are you insane?! Waking him up is like challenging him to one of those sleezy parlor games! In other words, not a very smart idea if you value your life as much as I do!" He shuddered, going into a slight trauma at the memory of the first time he woke a sleeping Allen Walker, his entire body darkening. "I sweat he grew horns and a tail…"

Lavi pouted again, an anger tick appearing over his temple. "What are you afraid of?" he questioned. When the historian noticed the blond wasn't paying attention, he whined loudly. "Come on, Tim!" He gave the younger a puppy dog look, his eyes wide and teary, his bottom lip quivering. "I pwomise to buy you guys dinner tonight if you do it!"

The thought of free dinner broke through the trauma of Timcanpy Marian's mind, causing him to groan in defeat. "Fine, but you get absolutely nothing in my will if I die," he hissed venomously. The agent turned to look at his client, swallowing in the fear that was engulfing his very being. He hesitantly walked up to the sleeping body. "Allen," he whispered. Getting nothing, he began to tug on his white hair. "Allen, it's time to wake up…" Still nothing. "Lavi is here to see you…"

"Nn…" gargled a groggy Allen Walker, lazily swatting at Timcanpy's hand. "Don't wanna…" As he tried to move away from the perstering young man, he completely fell out of his seat and onto the wooden floor. Instantly alert now, the Brit bolted up, his gloved hands held up to be used against his imaginary attacker. Seeing, and realizing, that he had just fallen out of his chair, he sighed, standing up and dusting himself off. "Did you get my coffee?" he asked, looking at his blond agent tiredly.

Timcanpy cursed himself under his breath. "No," he admitted. "Lavi came in without knocking, so I scolded him over that. He claimed that he had something important to ask you, thus resulting in me being the one who had to wake you up." He began to leave the room. "I'll go get it now while he asks you… whatever he wanted to ask you." With that, he vanished.

Allen glared in pure agitation at the mentioned red head. "You have three seconds," he hissed darkly, "to explain to me why the bloody Hell I was woken up before I decide that I want Lavi Stew tonight."

The older of the two blanched, and, within one breath, explained everything within the given time limit, which was basically what all he told Timcanpy earlier. He secretly hoped and prayed to God that the response that he had given to Allen was satisfactory to the whitette.

Silver eyes continued to glare at the moronic fool of a man before softening. A small smile crossed over his features. "If Lenalee and Komui are going, I don't see why I shouldn't," he told Lavi. "But next time, wake me up yourself. I don't want to strangulate the wrong person when I wake up, after all." He smiled more so as a simple chuckle sounded through his throat. "If I have to go to Scotland Yard, I want the reason to be a good one."

"Allen, here is your coffee," mewled a thickly accented voice from the doorway. Both of the men turned to see Lenalee Lee, a lovely young Chinese woman with her long, dark green hair tied up in a bun, held together by a few clips her old friend Anita gave to her before she passed on from a flesh eating disease a few years ago, a beautiful, shimmering green dress hugging her body in just all of the right places. In her hands, she held a tray with two coffee mugs on its surface. One of the mugs had the initials A.W. written across the bottom and the other L.B.J.. "Drink up." She smiled cheerfully at them both, but more at Lavi than at Allen.

Not noticing, Allen thanked her and accepted his mug. Gently blowing away the steam, he brought the edge of it to his pale lips. As the dark, hot liquid hit his tongue, the Brit felt awake already. The moment the drink parted from his lips, he gave a sigh of relief and a polite smile to the slightly older woman. "Thank you, Lenalee." After swallowing a couple more sips of the bitter liquid, he finally realized something. "Lenalee, since you brought the coffee, what happened to Tim?"

"He accidently dumped the coffee on himself when he tried to pour it," the Chinese woman sighed. "Komui went to get him clean clothes." She shook her head disapprovingly at the horns growing out of Allen's head (though she was sure they were just imaginary) and the devilish grin that had crossed his features.

"That's what he deserves for not having my coffee when he woke me up," the novelist cackled devilishly, "Not may the bitter god of coffee above strike Timcanpy Marian, son of Adam, with eternal misfortune!" He laughed maniacally (a mix of a crying banshee and an ax murderer), not caring if anyone in the room thought he was insane.

Now ignoring the darker version of Allen, Lenalee smiled warmly at Lavi, her violet orbs twinkling with unspoken longing. Pale lips curved into a gentle smile at the redhead. He wore a brown uniform, a requirement at his grandfather's business of recording history, that had the slight smell of moth balls, a long, fading orange scarf hugging his shoulders, the black work shoes that he wore upon his feet had definitely seen better days, and his soft, fiery red hair was down as per usual, framing his kind face. Lenalee's observing eyes were met by emerald orbs full of curiosity.

Lavi smiled warmly at the Asian female, silently, and hopefully safely, expressing his attraction to her. He couldn't help but smile more when a light dusting of pink came to the woman's cheeks. However, before he could dare voice it to her, a gloved hand latched onto his shoulder. Paling, the man turned, staring in horror at the demonic Brit.

Allen was wearing different clothing over his torso (strange, when did he change clothes?), his snow white hair pulled back into a small, low ponytail, a long sleeve, white blouse was worn under a dark gray vest, the collar flipping upwards, a long, red ribbon tired loosely around his neck, skin tight black pants that disappeared into his knee-high boots, giant demon horns grown from the top of his head, and a long, slightly jagged, long tail. His devilish look contrasted the scared look on his face. "I can't get rid of…" he drifted off, swallowing as he motioned to his horns and tail.

Relaxing, Lavi understood. Standing, he bowed apologetically to Lenalee. "Sorry, Lenalee," he told her, "But I must assist Allen." He became straight again and grinned his usual sheepish grin. "Your coffee is still the best, though, so for that and serving us the drink of eternal life, we thank you."

He bowed once more to the woman before taking Allen's gloved hand in his own and leaving the room. Once away from Lenalee, the redhead began to scold the whitette, "Allen, you really need to be more careful about your demonic side. Someday, whether it will be today, tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow, you won't be able to hide it anymore. Once word gets around that you're a hanyou, people will try to hunt you down and kill you. It'll be like Mana all over again!"

Allen flinched at Lavi's use of the deceased human's name. It had been his fault the man had been killed… "But Lavi," the Brit countered, "don't you remember? Master sealed away my demonic side…"

"Yes, I remember it like it happened only a few minutes ago," Lavi sighed, "but the seal could be fading, or worse…" He stopped walking and turned, looking at his friend with both concern and fear for his well-being. "The demon could be getting stronger."

The Brit felt all of the color leave his face, his gray eyes widening in horror, lips suddenly feeling rather dangerously dry. He swallowed, his throat now sickeningly raw. "It's terrifying enough knowing that I'm actually just a human with a demon spirit sealed inside of my body. Why do you think I eat so much? I have to eat so much food to feed both myself and the spirit!" he sighed a bit to himself. His tone softened, "I'm sorry, Lavi… I didn't mean to-."

"No, it's fine Allen," the redhead assured his white haired friend. "I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have said that." He ruffled the younger's hair playfully, smiling. "Forgive me? I'll buy you dinner if you do."

"After we take care of my little problem first," Allen chuckled, his tail swishing happily behind him. It seemed that the Brit was always back in a good mood when free food was involved. The demon within him seemed to agree as well.

Lavi chuckled as they entered the bathroom. He had the man sit on the floor as he searched for a hidden container under the floor boards. "Where is it?" he asked himself. His hand mulled around until finally, he found what he had been looking for. Standing, the redhead grinned, pulling out a small, rectangular box, decorated with the symbols and writings of the deceased**. He opened it to reveal a similar golden cube that glowed a heavenly green as it reacted to Allen's demonic half. The glowing green light only increased as it came closer to the white haired man.

"This is the last magic sealer of Innocence I have to give you, Allen," Lavi told him. "After this, until Bookman finds more of it, you have to watch what you do so you don't accidentally break the seal and unleash your inner demon, alright?" He put the box itself down and pulled up the sleeve of Allen's left arm. The seal was slightly faded, but nothing the Innocence couldn't fix. Taking the cube, he tried to find the weakest point in the man's arm.

Allen's black arm was a magic seal of sorts, and a rather powerful one at that. Who would expect any less of the Wizard Cross Marian, an expert in all things magic, women, alcohol, and debt? Well, a certain whitette would, but his opinion didn't exactly count. Back to the topic at hand, the deal had been placed over Allen's left arm to seal away the demon inside of him, to hide it away, to cage it in the deepest recesses of his mind. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about the red, long, jagged scar that took up residence over the left eye of the white haired author.

The scar in itself was rather strange. This is said simply because of the amount of accuracy that it appeared to have. A filled in, upside down pentagram just above a slender brow dipped just under said brow, over a pale eyelid, the picking back up barely a millimeter under the entrancing silver eye, a horizontal curved line dripping back to the downwards motion, then jutting to the left before dropping down his cheek and to his chin. How he got it was an even stranger occurrence, however, because it was the mark of his inner demon.

Allen didn't always look like that. No, his left arm had once looked like the victim of house fire, scabby tender, and red. His face had once been scarless, adorable, and pale. His hair had once been a lovely brunette color, a shade of chocolate, warm and pleasant. No, all of that had changed on the Christmas Eve of Allen's twelfth birthday, when a demon hunting mob killed Mana in their hatred of the boy.

That had been the first appearance of the demon inside of the whitette. When Lavi found Allen back then, he had been terrified at the scene before him; The boy's hair had turned white, but was splattered in his victims' crimson blood, his skin flickering from pale white to a horrendous gray hue, the burgundy mark having appeared over his left eye, distorted and warped, stigmata appearing across his forehead, large, ringed horns sprouting from somewhere near his temples, the fingernails of his left hand elongated and coaxed in iron tasting gore, his usually silver eyes a shade of red, possessed, and a long, swishing tail erect from just above his tail bone. A mound of corpses laid around the boy, faces twisted in horror, their blood swallowed greedily by the snow beneath their slowly decaying carcasses. A long, pointed tongue had slipped past painted lips, a sadistic grin making itself known.

At the time, Lavi probably pissed himself senseless. The man caught himself chuckling as he was working on Allen's demon seal. He sighed slightly in relief as the golden cube dissipated into the black skin. "There, now the seal should be stronger and should stay much longer than last time so long as you don't do anything reckless," the redhead told him, a glisten of mischief in his emerald eyes.

The infamous novelist rolled his eyes as his horns and tail began to retreat. "Yes, whatever you say, mother," he teased. "Quit nagging at me. I've been good during play time." He smiled. "Besides, it'd not my fault if none of the other children don't want to have anything to do with me."

Lavi's voice when up several octaves as he began to mimic what a lot of parents call the 'You-are-going- to-make-friends-whether-you-like-it-or-not' speech, "Now listen here, young man, you can't always be playing with that dashing, handsome boy named Lavi!" He grinned at how he sounded so much like a scolding parent even though in the heart of hearts, we all know that was a complete and utter pile of bullshit, but that is beside the point.

The whitette's eyes became as large as saucer plates, feigned innocence in those swirling gray irises. Tears, obviously fake, pricked at the grown orbs, a scared, young voice escaping the grown man's throat, "B-but the other children make fun of me, mommy! Lavi is the only one who isn't such a big bully!" He pounced the older, hugging him. "J'taime, Lavi!" Their noses were barely touching, their breaths mingling. Their chests were pressed together, hearts racing against one another.

"Laven!" the familiar cry of a certain green haired yaoi fangirl came from just behind the bathroom door, followed by a certain blond haired yaoi fanboy's hurried whisper of, "Shut up, Lenalee!"

The red head smirked, holding a blushing Allen Walker against himself as he pulled them up to a standing position. "I love you too, my dearest Allen," he purred. He got on one knee and pretended to pull out a small box, holding the said imaginary box out for the whitette to see. "Will you marry me?" He gave a sheepish grin. "I want to be with you for all of eternity. I promise to make you the happiest wife in the world."

With the straightest face ever created, Allen deadpanned, "I'm sorry, Lavi, but I have another. I cannot love you for fear of breaking your heart in the end. Plus," he suddenly looked pissed off, crossing his arms across his chest, "who the Hell is the bloody git that said I have to be the wife? I'm not that feminine, am I?" He paused. "Wait, don't answer that."

"Even so, you still have shattered my heart by that of your great sword Apathy, forever undone, never to be sewn back together ever again, ruined, imperfect," Lavi said dramatically, collapsing unto the ground, hands over his heart as tears fell down his face. "It was because of you that I have learned what this feeling within my bosom that burns greater than the sun itself was, lave, and it was also because of you that I feel my heart break so."

Allen kneeled before him, and, with the same dramatic voice, told him, "I plead thy forgiveness, my dearest Lavi, but I mustn't love you any longer. I have loved you dearly, that is the solid truth told by that of angels and not a lie spewed by demons, but now, I have given my heart to another." He brushed away a stray tear from Lavi's emerald orb. "Now I must bid you an eternal farewell." He stood and, with a dramatic turn as though he had a cape fluttering behind him, began to walk away.

However, neither one of the men could pull off the act any longer, both bursting in laughter. They had both doubled over, their ribs protesting the joyful sound, throats burning. Lavi fell backwards, arching his back as tears of amusement rolled from the corners of his eyes. Allen fell to his knees, hitting the floor as his own tears of laughter fell. They continued to laugh with one another until they somehow managed to calm down. They grinned toothy grins at one another, tears obscuring their visions. They used one another to stand, bowing low towards the bathroom door, saying in unison, "We hope you enjoyed the show, lady and gentleman." They stood straight, still grinning.

The beforementioned door flew open, greeting Allen and Lavi with a flurry of clapping, cheers, and whistles from the two usual satisfied members of the Laven Experience*** audience, also known as Lenalee Lee and Timcanpy Marian. They had large grins of their own plastered across their faces.

"Bloody Hell, you guys!" Timcanpy cried. "That was the best performance I have ever experienced of yaoi from the Laven Experience! Bravo!"

"I plead you for more! I simply cannot live without the wonders of Laven!" Lenalee swooned. "I enjoy every second of every performance! I hope you two will someday kiss and really fall in love!" Everybody sweat dropped as the image of Lavi sucking the living Hell out of Allen's face appeared above the fangirl's head. [A/N: Oh, like you never imagined it either. XD]

"Sorry, Lenalady," Lavi told the Chinese woman, "but I love Allen as though we were brothers. I, unlike Mr. Albino here, prefer my breast friends." He chuckled both at Lenalee's blush and Allen's dirty glare. "However, just for you, I will do it just this once." The redhead turned and tilted Allen's chin upwards, leaning down and capturing his pale lips.

The small action erupted three things from everyone who was not Lavi Bookman Junior: A gasp of shock from Timcanpy, his amber eyes widening considerably; A squeal of pure bliss from Lenalee; And a very large, very beet red blush from Allen. Timcanpy had gasped because one, he didn't know that Allen was actually a homosexual, and two, like everyone who wasn't Lavi, he absolutely did not see that kiss coming. Lenalee had squealed because, quite frankly, what yaoi fangirl wouldn't? And Allen was blushing because of one small, yet embarrassing fact that he never dared to tell his friends, what-so-ever.

Lavi Bookman Junior, a well-trained, hyperactive historian, was the first kiss of Allen 'Red' Walker, an ex-clown and a procrastinating, infamous writer of fiction.

Alright, so it wasn't the whitette's first kiss. A yume youkai**** had taken that from him. Scared the hell out of him as well. Never-the-less, this was Allen's first male kiss. The redhead didn't taste as sweet as the demoness, no, but he still had his own unique flavor. It wasn't like a flavor of some sort of food or drink… no, it tasted like liquid emotions. All of the emotions that Lavi felt for the younger man flooded past the passage known as his pale, bruising lips and invaded the surface of his tongue.

The sour taste of humorous teasing, the sickeningly sweet taste of a brotherly love, a flicker here and there of bitter tasting agitation, and so many more that the Brit simply could not decipher. All of those emotions were being tasted all at once, dancing across Allen's taste buds. It all balanced out, Allen's innocent taste with Lavi's dark kind.

All too soon for the hanyou's liking, the historian pulled away, smiling warmly at him, cheeks dusted with a light layer of pink. He was panting slightly, a little out of breath, despite not really doing anything other than gently forcing his tongue into Allen's mouth, just enough for the younger to taste him. He grinned his usual sheepish grin. He silently wished the lucky man who would love Allen good luck and told him telepathically, wherever in the world the said man was, that if he wanted to kiss the hanyou to the end of days , he better start liking sweet things, and fast.

Turning to the two other occupants in the room, the two men chuckled at the sight of their own reddened faces. Timcanpy's more-so that Lenalee's, their expressions, Tim's shocked and Lena's thatof a creepy yaoi stalker fangirl, and their poses, Marian's a classic French 'oh, my God' pose and Lee's the oh-so frightening 'I'm going to pounce you both and gobble you all up' pose.

"Well, come on," Lavi purred, walking past the two fans of Laven. "It's dinner time! I'll take you guys out to eat! My treat!"

The three others calmed, nodding as smiles crossed their features. Their stomachs gave off low, feral growls as they walked to their separate rooms to change into their public clothes, Lavi already having left down the stairs to talk with Komui Lee. Nobody seemed to notice that a certain box that was supposed to be hidden was left out in the open.

Hands of expert skills slithered out of the ground, followed by a head, then a body. Now floating above the bathroom floor, the youkai's amber eyes narrowed at the container. A sadistic grin stretched across the well toned face of the mentioned youkai. "The Earl has waited almost twenty-six years, shounen," it mused, its voice low and husky, smooth as silk, "and he has come to grow rather… impatient…" An octagonal shaped cube appeared in the youkai's gloved hands, black and smoky, swirling within the barrier. "It's time for him to make his appearance in the Earl's play. He has long since missed his cue, so he will have to make it now. The curtain for the second act is rising, shounen." It placed the solidified darkness within the box, watching as it disguised itself as the smaller golden cube known as Innocence. "You must die in order for the demon to come out and play." A dark purple butterfly fluttered out from the youkai's sleeve and hid itself within the box before vanishing to its hiding place. "I shall leave my Teaze to handle that tad-bit should the application of Dark Matter not accelerate the transformation." Once the youkai was sure nobody, not even that annoying observant redhead, could tell something was amiss, it vanished, leaving not a trace of itself behind except for one final goodbye: "Shounen, you curtain for the first act shall fall and his curtain to the second act shall rise." It vanished through the floor. "Goodbye, shounen." All went silent.


Hypnos* - The Greek God of Sleep.

The symbols and writings of the deceased** - I use this sentence to mean ARCAIC symbols and writings, but it doesn't mean the arcaic symbols and writings are dead, it means the wizards, witches, demons, and priests who used it before are dead. :D

Laven Experience*** - It's a little performance show that stars Allen and Lavi in this fanfiction. It's much like the Yullen Fantasy from my Lucky fanfiction A Commoner's Love but instead of being on a disk, it's live action. :D

Yume youkai**** - A dream demon, or in this case, demoness.

Well, I hope you guys enjoyed the new rewrite of this story! :D Oddly, I have nothing else to say except that this is probably the longest I have ever written on one chapter. :P

Read and review my lovelys! X3

~ Usagi