Don't worry about it

RP blog for Matt from Death Note. 18+ only NSFW

[maildt]

What I do when Mello points his gun at me

[animeglitch]

☆ death note ☆

[opendirectories]

[morphinejunkie]

i just found out that matt died at the literal, actual shibuya crossing, aka one of the most traversed, most popular tourist hotspots in tokyo.

if you look carefully, you can even see shibuya 109 behind him:

that is a seriously high profile death.

[str0kethebigtree-deactivated202]

[chamaemelum96]

[maildt]

And no one could have told me this?

[maildt]

//Tumblr's characterization of Near is so bad and I'm starting to realize that's largely because people on here ship Near and Mello and Near is a self insert, and it's not attractive or pleasurable by any other measure because these aren't exactly people who think they need to be attractive or interesting in a romantic situation, they just want to receive attention. And because he's a self insert, he's an empty shell + the writer's bad traits and I just can't follow that haha it's so disrespectful to this half-baked anime we all love and cherish to treat Near like that

[maildt]

[bikerider1010]

[maildt]

[maildt]

Headcanon: "Mail" comes from "Ismail". His English parents thought it was cuter and less foreign to register him as Mail, which was both insufferable and characteristic of them.

Furthermore, Ismail wasn't even his actual name. Their accomplices had given him an a common Turkish name (anti-Kurd bigotry) when they had handed Matt over to the couple and he couldn't speak English to do anything about it let alone know what was even happening.

His actual birth name was Ilya Karasholi. (No relation to the East Slavic name Ilya originating from the Hebrew "My god is Yahu-jah"/Elijah. It's a Kurdish name meaning "glorious")

The whole situation of being uprooted and given to English adults while not speaking the language or being told what was going on painted Matt's life with a surreal and destabilizing stroke. He was laying in bed at one night and suddenly remembered what his name had been originally. He had forgotten his own name. But he felt disassociated from every name he had ever had. Since he didn't speak English well when he started going by Matt, it was just as meaningless and odd to him as the name "Mello" and "Near."

I also headcanon that the Death Note goes by legal names. Therefore you must write "Mail Jeevas" in a Death Note in order to kill him.

[0vendetta]

In case any of you were confused: I’m still the hottest goth anarchist there is

[maildt]

[johansdeathnote]

So Donald Trump has more mangacaps than Matt

[melodizes]

adolescence

[melodizes]

Grunting, he fell on his back. Hands cuffed around Matt’s arms and he rolled them over while digging his knee into his thigh. A laugh let out. “Since you made me drop my chocolate, I think it’s your turn to eat some,” he said, reaching for the candy bar.

[maildt]

“Oooh you gonna waste that on me when you’re not gonna get another one for a week. You like me or something, fag?”

Fight, shit talk something, he wanted to keep it going, the rolling and the contact felt so good with the body high.

If only any of the non-autistic girls at Wammy’s liked him. He could whine.

[melodizes]

‘You like me or something, fag?’

Mello went on the defensive to hide whatever emotion was quelling in his eyes.

He took his chocolate and shoved the entire thing in Matt’s mouth, and then got off of him.

“No!” he said too adamantly. “I don’t! I don’t even like you as a friend!” His eyes were glassy.

This time, his voice was weaker.

“I’m not a fag.”

[maildt]

Matt was more confused than he had ever been in his life, and his altered state of mind played a role in that. He thought strange things for another 30 minutes, fell asleep, could hardly remember the details when he woke up. He was more confused. He couldn’t remember Mello ever reacting in that way before. He’d never seen Mello hurt before, see Mello flee rather than fight. He could never figure it out no matter how hard he racked his brain. What could make Mello respond like that? What could cut his facade away so smoothly?

10 years later the memory came back, he was on the raggedy couch in the squat he shared with Mello, watching Japanese horror to the accompiament of LSD, feeling the same things he felt then, the same body high. It had become a trigger, he had come to be reminded of that memory every time he dropped. As if on cue this time the blond walked in. Mind clearly on either Kira or Near, the man in desperate need of relaxation that he would probably only allow himself to indulge in for a short few minutes.

[melodizes]

Switching his gaze between Matt and the television, it only took him a moment before he was sitting down next to his friend. As predicted, he was quiet for only a few seconds before…

“We need to make a move. Near’s already planning on confronting Kira and we’ve done nothing but listen to Amane and it’s gotten us nowhere. I don’t want to waste any more fucking time.”

[maildt]

He shook his head and smiled a smile way too wide, but still the smile wasn't a happy one.

"Do we? We'd just get ourselves killed."

The idiot.

"If your goal was actually just catching Kira you'd let Near confront him."

"My intuition says Near isn't ready to confront Kira either. He'll die, and if we pay attention you'll probably have the tools to finish him off"

"But you could never do that. You don't have the inner peace or the..."

He fell off, staring at Mello's rosary.

"..self control"

He sharply ripped it off his neck, beads flying everywhere.

[melodizes]

adolescence

[melodizes]

Grunting, he fell on his back. Hands cuffed around Matt’s arms and he rolled them over while digging his knee into his thigh. A laugh let out. “Since you made me drop my chocolate, I think it’s your turn to eat some,” he said, reaching for the candy bar.

[maildt]

“Oooh you gonna waste that on me when you’re not gonna get another one for a week. You like me or something, fag?”

Fight, shit talk something, he wanted to keep it going, the rolling and the contact felt so good with the body high.

If only any of the non-autistic girls at Wammy’s liked him. He could whine.

[melodizes]

‘You like me or something, fag?’

Mello went on the defensive to hide whatever emotion was quelling in his eyes.

He took his chocolate and shoved the entire thing in Matt’s mouth, and then got off of him.

“No!” he said too adamantly. “I don’t! I don’t even like you as a friend!” His eyes were glassy.

This time, his voice was weaker.

“I’m not a fag.”

[maildt]

Matt was more confused than he had ever been in his life, and his altered state of mind played a role in that. He thought strange things for another 30 minutes, fell asleep, could hardly remember the details when he woke up. He was more confused. He couldn't remember Mello ever reacting in that way before. He'd never seen Mello hurt before, see Mello flee rather than fight. He could never figure it out no matter how hard he racked his brain. What could make Mello respond like that? What could cut his facade away so smoothly?

10 years later the memory came back, he was on the raggedy couch in the squat he shared with Mello, watching Japanese horror to the accompiament of LSD, feeling the same things he felt then, the same body high. It had become a trigger, he had come to be reminded of that memory every time he dropped. As if on cue this time the blond walked in. Mind clearly on either Kira or Near, the man in desperate need of relaxation that he would probably only allow himself to indulge in for a short few minutes.

[melodizes]

adolescence

[melodizes]

Grunting, he fell on his back. Hands cuffed around Matt’s arms and he rolled them over while digging his knee into his thigh. A laugh let out. “Since you made me drop my chocolate, I think it’s your turn to eat some,” he said, reaching for the candy bar.

[maildt]

"Oooh you gonna waste that on me when you're not gonna get another one for a week. You like me or something, fag?"

Fight, shit talk something, he wanted to keep it going, the rolling and the contact felt so good with the body high.

If only any of the non-autistic girls at Wammy's liked him. He could whine.