Anonymous asked: What do you think Matt would do if someone just came up to him and stuck their nose in his ear and took a big ol' whiff? Like just right in the shell of his ear?
I’m not even going to bother answering this.
Misa knew something was coming. She really wasn’t stupid enough to think that he’d somehow drop it all and forget.
Still, she couldn’t stop herself from crying out when her shoulders and back hit the wall. Being moved like that when you couldn’t see was particularly horrific, and it hadn’t happened that way, before.
Being hauled around had caused Misa-Misa to shatter and break, leaving her open wide. Still, she could take this. His harsh voice and rough hands and…she could handle this.
She felt the material covering his knee cutting over her inside legs and she clenched, instinctively. He was always going to do that, she thought. He was a male kidnapper and she was a pretty girl and of course he’d do that. His knee reached her upper thighs beneath her skirt and she felt the presence of the leather, not quite touching where she wore sheer, filmy satin.
He stopped, there, and she felt horribly exposed, even so, the knowledge that her skirt was bunched around her upper thighs staying at the forefront of her mind.
One of his hands was resting against her throat and her breath hitched, there. It was all a threat, still; apart from where he shoved her against the wall, he wasn’t hurting her.
Not yet.
He was just opening her up like an autopsy. Misa remembered that she’d had a doll that was supposed to resemble an autopsy, except it was alive and cutesy and would remain so even on the table, batting her eyelashes and giggling as the knife slipped in.
“I don’t deserve this,” she squeaked, although she spoke carefully. “Why do I deserve this, Mr Kidnapper? Why do you make girls cry?”
It was a plea before she would silence herself and stare blankly throughout whatever he was going to do to her.
Never had Mello ever wanted to strike a woman. But in that moment, the desire to do so flared. Even though it was perfectly logical for Misa to ask him questions like that, especially if she were keeping up her idol persona, Mello still didn’t like hearing it. He wanted to shake her and yell back at her that this wasn’t fun for him, either - that she wasn’t giving him any other options. What was he supposed to do, faced with her denials? Faced with a countdown? Misa would surely die soon. Mello was surprised she hadn’t, already.
“Shut up,” he replied harshly, pushing her harder against the cool wall. “I gave you a choice.” He tightened his grip on her throat, but still not enough to choke her - still only a threat.
He shoved his knee up further, until it made contact. He could vomit, if he were alone. This was probably one of the worst things he’s done yet, and his record has been littered with bad things since leaving Wammy’s.
“Unless you tell me something, I’m going to keep going.” It might not sound like a plead to Misa, but it was one.
(Source: volatile-guns)
Misa-Misa: A Valentine’s Day Abduction
Misa boiled a little, inside, and resisted the urge to shout that good girlfriends did get mixed up if they needed to. No matter how much she wanted to take…
“Such a faker,” Mello replied, scoldingly. He could see through that guise better than she thought. Misa was much more than her idol persona. Had she not been, Mello wouldn’t be keeping her here like this. He would have overlooked her, and found someone else to lead him to Yagami Light.
“Fine.” Now his tone was harsh and unforgiving. It had to be. Mello needed to psych himself up for what he was about to do. “Don’t forget that I gave you a chance to get out of this. It’s not like I enjoy making girls cry.”
And without another moment of hesitation, he lifted her and shoved her against the wall, knee between her legs. He could feel bile in the back of his throat, rising as a result of this close proximity - of the threat he was bestowing upon her. One gloved hand found her throat. It didn’t squeeze, but just rested there, reminding her of what he could do.
Misa-Misa: A Valentine’s Day Abduction
Misa boiled a little, inside, and resisted the urge to shout that good girlfriends did get mixed up if they needed to. No matter how much she wanted to take…
Mello pitied her, but that hardly mattered at this point. He had always been emotional, prone to feeling too much despite his knowledge and logic. But if he gave in to such feelings, he would never succeed, and he knew that. So he ignored that desire to call this whole thing too - to rip off the blindfold and offer her water and better arrangements. Amane Misa was dangerous, and Mello was far from stupid.
“Misa looks thirsty,” he said, and for the first time allowed some harshness into his tone. He knew she was more than that silly idol persona she was employing, and really, it was stupid for her to remain non-compliant in the face of such circumstances.
As if to prove his point, he brought his gloved index finger to her bottom lip and lightly rubbed at the flaking lipstick. “Your lips are very dry.”
He was mocking her. She swallowed, painfully, as even the acknowledgement of her thirst somehow made it worse. She tried to block thoughts of cold water out of her mind. She resisted the urge to think about how pleasurable it would be to have water running down her throat. She tried not to think about her insides shrivelling or her skin wrinkling from the lack of hydration.
He ran one of his fingers across her bottom lip - his most invasive contact with her, yet. Misa resisted the urge to bite down, even though the thought of sinking her teeth through the leather and and hearing that carefully menacing voice erupt into a scream was satisfying. It was hardly going to force him to do anything but treat her all the more cruelly.
Instead, she held on to her one barrier, the one he was trying to snatch away by his mocking.
“Misa’s lipstick flakes easily,” she said, her voice still croaking. Pulling up her actress’s skill, she forced it into as much as a sweet trill as she could, painful though it was. “It was for a date, but you interrupted.”
Misa was good at sounding lighthearted when things weren’t.
“I wonder if Yagami found someone else to take to dinner,” Mello mused out loud, though he didn’t expect the threat to do much. Still ever-present was the sense that time was running out - that he had to get something from Misa now before it was too late.
“Misa,” he said firmly, tone indicating that it was not the time for pretenses. “I’m going to give you one last chance to confess, and if you don’t, I’m going to have to do something horrible.” His tone didn’t betray him, but Mello felt a sense of grim determination. He wanted this almost as little as Misa did, but the clock was ticking, and they just did not have the time to wait for her to breakdown from hunger or thirst.
“Think about it before you answer.” He touched her cheek, lightly, but threateningly.
Misa-Misa: A Valentine’s Day Abduction
Misa boiled a little, inside, and resisted the urge to shout that good girlfriends did get mixed up if they needed to. No matter how much she wanted to take…
Mello pitied her, but that hardly mattered at this point. He had always been emotional, prone to feeling too much despite his knowledge and logic. But if he gave in to such feelings, he would never succeed, and he knew that. So he ignored that desire to call this whole thing too - to rip off the blindfold and offer her water and better arrangements. Amane Misa was dangerous, and Mello was far from stupid.
“Misa looks thirsty,” he said, and for the first time allowed some harshness into his tone. He knew she was more than that silly idol persona she was employing, and really, it was stupid for her to remain non-compliant in the face of such circumstances.
As if to prove his point, he brought his gloved index finger to her bottom lip and lightly rubbed at the flaking lipstick. “Your lips are very dry.”
Misa boiled a little, inside, and resisted the urge to shout that good girlfriends did get mixed up if they needed to. No matter how much she wanted to take that mocking edge out of his voice, that would be the worst thing to say in the world. He was circling her, then, his boots loud on the floor. It felt as if he was being almost predatory.
A strand of her hair was lifted, the feeling resonating in her scalp. It was a strangely intimate thing to do, because he was just holding the strand and not pulling her hair. It put Misa uncomfortably in mind of boyfriends who had softly run their fingers through her hair. Moments of intimacy and softness and everything this situation wasn’t. She almost wished he would pull her hair.
“It’s okay,” Mello said, lowering his voice so that it was soft. Promising. “You’ll change your mind.” He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, fingers barely grazing her cheek. She couldn’t see it, but Mello wasn’t smiling. He had a sinking feeling that he was going to need to push Misa a little more than this. It made sense, after all, given with whom she kept company, but it didn’t mean Mello was looking forward to it.
In a way, Sayu had been easier. Tragic, because she had been innocent - and that still bothered Mello, though he never mentioned it to anyone - but still easier.
Misa wasn’t innocent. And chances were that she was smarter than her public persona made her seem.
Mello touched her cheek again, eyes calculating. He wondered how much it would take.
His voice was soft and low, his breath on her cheek, and he continued to touch her hair and face, gently still. It made her think about how she was supposed to be with Light, how he was supposed to be touching her. She didn’t want this man to be touching her that way.
It was all just a threat and Misa both knew and didn’t know what he would do to make her talk. She never would, but her mind giving her that cruel glimpse of what might happen made her skin bleach cold under her clothes. She bit her lip, sinking her teeth into the skin just enough to hurt, tasting waxy lipstick.
He touched her again and she held herself still, like an animal on an examination table.
Mello watched her curiously, observed how she stilled, how she bit her lip. Not unbreakable, he surmised. It would be a careful endeavor, but he could do it. The only question was whether or not he’d have the time. Eventually, Light would take action, and Mello, though sure Misa was involved, wasn’t sure how important she was to Light. Everything pointed to him just discarding her, but it was possible, if not probable, that he might consider her valuable.
He just hoped he’d have time.
With one last look, he left without saying a word.
He didn’t return until the next morning. He brought water, but there was no way Misa would know that without him telling her. He set it on the chair, masking the noise of it settling down with his footsteps, and approached her, standing in front of her - but not touching. Yet.
“How do you feel today?”
Misa boiled a little, inside, and resisted the urge to shout that good girlfriends did get mixed up if they needed to. No matter how much she wanted to take that mocking edge out of his voice, that would be the worst thing to say in the world. He was circling her, then, his boots loud on the floor. It felt as if he was being almost predatory.
A strand of her hair was lifted, the feeling resonating in her scalp. It was a strangely intimate thing to do, because he was just holding the strand and not pulling her hair. It put Misa uncomfortably in mind of boyfriends who had softly run their fingers through her hair. Moments of intimacy and softness and everything this situation wasn’t. She almost wished he would pull her hair.
“It’s okay,” Mello said, lowering his voice so that it was soft. Promising. “You’ll change your mind.” He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, fingers barely grazing her cheek. She couldn’t see it, but Mello wasn’t smiling. He had a sinking feeling that he was going to need to push Misa a little more than this. It made sense, after all, given with whom she kept company, but it didn’t mean Mello was looking forward to it.
In a way, Sayu had been easier. Tragic, because she had been innocent - and that still bothered Mello, though he never mentioned it to anyone - but still easier.
Misa wasn’t innocent. And chances were that she was smarter than her public persona made her seem.
Mello touched her cheek again, eyes calculating. He wondered how much it would take.
(Source: volatile-guns)
He came closer, his footsteps slow and echoing, she forced herself to freeze to stop herself recoiling at his presence as he stood over her. She could hear his clothing rustle as he moved, implying he wore leather. Misa had worked in fashion long enough to recognise materials.
He wasn’t standing over her for long, though, as he crouched so their faces were level. Misa couldn’t see, but she could feel his breath on her face and it occurred to her that he was very close to her, indeed. Still, she tried not to wince. He touched her, then, a slight brush of her cheek with his gloved finger. The material was cool, but his proximity was warm. She couldn’t stop herself from flinching, that time. Light slipped to the forefront of her mind.
He spoke, again, quietly, smoothly, still with that edge. She listened and the implication of what he said made her stomach sink. She told herself that it was all because of the threat of the situation, but she couldn’t help but try and imagine Light fretting over her and the image wouldn’t quite put itself together in her mind.
A protest rose in her throat at the thought, voicing itself through the gag. “I’ll never speak, and he’ll come and get me,” she said, although it was still muffled. “You can even torture me and I won’t say anything. He’ll kill you, though.”
It was true but she couldn’t really tell herself that it would be for her sake.
Mello chuckled lowly. He shifted his weight, but did not move from his position in front of her. “You’re already saying things, Amane,” he pointed out. “And I haven’t even done anything yet.” Another implication - that he would do something. He didn’t want to, especially not if getting her to talk could be relatively easy. But there were a lot of things Mello did not want to do that he wound up forced into. It was the tragedy of being on this side of the war.
He decided to switch tactics, and stood. It was more comfortable for him to stand with the boots he wore, and he wanted to seem like a larger presence. “I can’t remove your blindfold. But I can give you food and water, if you’re compliant.”
He had to keep in mind that Misa was not like Sayu. She was guilty of aiding Light, if nothing else, and that meant she had some fire behind her. Mello had two choices - he could figure out how to use that to his advantage, or he could extinguish it.
Misa cringed. She really hadn’t meant it like that and her stomach turned at the idea that she might have already damned Light.
“I meant as my boyfriend!” she said. “He’d kill you because that’s what good boyfriends do.”
Things like that felt like she was reciting them, almost. She wanted to cling to the idea that she wasn’t. At the moment, though, she was thrumming with the fear that she’d undone everything.
So she’d remain silent after that. Giving him nothing. Even if she died, well then that was better than Light and herself being uncovered as Kira.
Still, she winced every time he took the slightest move. Any one of those movements could be followed by pain that Misa wasn’t sure she could take. She would take it, though, of course. She wanted to open her mouth and scream just so she could make herself just a little bigger than she was. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself to do that without spilling everything, though.
Food and water. Misa didn’t need them, yet, but she remembered being deprived of both, remembered her mouth drying and her throat and her stomach aching. Still, that was still better than saying something.
Mello laughed. It didn’t sound as though he was amused. Rather, it sounded harsh - even a little judgmental. “Good boyfriends don’t get their girlfriends mixed up in things that get them kidnapped,” he said, disapproval clear in his tone. He started to walk around her, slowly, boots heavy on the ground. It was mostly so that he could seem intimidating, but Mello also wanted to think, and moving around was better for that than standing still.
She was being quiet, now. It was still early, though. Mello would hold off on the food and water and figured that would eventually get her to talk. And if not -
He stopped and lifted a strand of her hair. It was a simple action that did not truly invade her space, but it was still meant to be unnerving. A very subtle and respectful threat.
They weren’t supposed to disturb him when he was sleeping. They weren’t supposed to disturb him...
You should have sex with a railroad spike.
