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Title: wash it out
Author: @translightyagami
For: @complicatedmerary
Pairings/Characters: mikami/light
Rating/Warnings: mature/no warnings needed
Prompt: “Musician AU: Light Yagami is a pianist, Teru Mikami is a violinist. They are having an affair behind the scenes. Unfortunately for them, Misa Amane is Light Yagami's wife.”
Author’s notes: I hope this does the job alright! I know there’s not much music, but I thought maybe for a shorter thing to focus on how Mikami felt about sharing Light - not very into that it would seem... Anyway, it was a lovely prompt, and I love to describe an opera house/small office crap. your choice on who used to love bear claws but... well... lets just say they’re not in the picture anymore... okay! bye!
The opera house stood taller than, in Mikami’s mind, God himself could ever stand. Every moment held in the ancient wood and sinew of its structure was divine: a thing to be worshiped before Mikami slept. Morning sunlight poured over the tented roof and trickled over the ornamental front entrance’s carved mural of angels bearing instruments.
Mikami pressed through the opera’s revolving doors with two coffees and a small paper sack in hand, violin case strapped across his back. Working at the desk was a silent, brooding teenager who scanned his artist’s badge and told him not to eat in the theatre. As though Mikami were such a heretic; as though the drafty hallways and peeling walls weren’t his home.
Even as he slipped through the opera house’s offices, he heard glimmering piano echo through speakers pipping in Light’s morning practice for all to hear. Mikami passed by Roger, an older tweedy sort in the programming department, waved to Kiyomi from her marketing cave and filtered into the practice room.
His entrance was loud and Mikami winced as the door creaked in a monstrous scream. Light’s fingers didn’t stuttered over the keys of Chopin – his shoulders raised a hair but surprise was so slight on him, only Mikami would know. At least, that is what Mikami liked to assure himself: his ownership over the small parts of Light. On the piano’s surface was a metronome, clicking out as Light slowed to an end mid-song. Plinking out a last note, Light turned and let a slow smile effuse over his mouth.
“Did you bring me coffee?” Light slipped the glossy black cover over the piano keys. “You’re spoiling me.”
“I want to spoil you.” Mikami went to the nearby table, covered with discarded sheet music and near finished resin boxes. His palms were hot from coffee and the way Light coddled his tone when speaking. He packaged even admonishment in a fondness no one had ever taken with Mikami. “Did you eat breakfast? Did you come straight from the apartment?”
Perching his elbows on the closed lid, Light dropped his chin into entwined hands. “And if I did come straight from the apartment?” He slide his gaze molasses-like toward the brown bag in Mikami’s fist. “I had an egg.”
“Just one? Not enough.” Mikami hummed and laid out the coffee and bag on it. “C’mon. I’ve brought two bear claws.”
From behind he heard Light’s high laugh and the scratch of the piano bench shoved back. Two arms looped around his waist, pressing the loose grey wool of his sweater to his quivering stomach. Soft crinkling sounded as Light lay his cheek on Mikami’s violin case, his fingers knitted into a belt that Mikami pressed against as he put out twin pastries on white napkins. He looked down, curious, and saw no ring on Light’s left hand. Excitement trilled through Mikami at the click of the continuing metronome.
“I don’t actually like bear claws, you know,” Light said, oddly speaking on beat with the clicks. “Only, I used to know someone who loved them and we’d always split them down the middle. If it’s just half, then it’s not as sweet. Right?”
“Yes. No. Uh,” Mikami bit his knuckle, his other hand covering the fists Light made on his belly. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing.” Light swung around and caught Mikami’s face in both palms. “I’m not hungry. I’d like to kiss you.”
Light’s palms were always cold – how Mikami loved that chill on his cheeks. A compulsive hand-washer, his love was, and even the warm glide of his mouth over Mikami’s didn’t drown out the soap-and-water icy touch. Light rubbed his thumbs right beneath Mikami’s eyes, trailing over cheekbone ridges. Softly a moan caught between teeth as mouths opened to each other, tongues touching and singing – but Mikami couldn’t stop thinking of those cold hands. He slid his own over Light’s and twined their fingers, touching every uncovered inch.
“You’re not wearing it,” Mikami breathed over Light’s teeth. “No ring. You’re not wearing that ridiculous ring.”
“Not now.” Light squeezed and nipped his lower lip. “I never wear it to practice – you know that. It’s in my pocket.”
Mikami let his hand trailed down, treacherous, only to brush the hard raised outline on Light’s hip. Scoffing, he turned from the kiss and frowned. “She’s not even in town,” he said. “She’s missing all of our hard work to make faces at a camera.”
“I told her to go.” A tart note of frustration stung Light’s voice. “Misa is hard to uncouple with. Remember when she was one of our sopranos? Every day, it was like peeling off Velcro.”
“No one forced you to marry the Velcro.” The memory of when Misa worked in the opera house – trailing after Light with a look of hunger and begged for coffee dates, dinners, and to hold the cool hands that weren’t hers to clutch – whipped through Mikami. Yet Light’s eyes on him now, glowing hot along with his reddening cheeks, chastised every ghost of sulking. “Sorry. Yes. You told her to go, so we could use the apartment.”
“Don’t you like having me in the kitchen?” Light smiled – false, fake, too-sweet – and Mikami’s heart fell for it, leaping the moment lip corners lifted. “We could fuck here, on the table.”
“Here? But the speakers –“
“Hooked up to the piano.” A genuine grin melted over the first false one. “I want your hands on me Teru. Can’t you touch me? Feel me?” Light grabbed him by the wrist and slipped Mikami’s hand onto his flexing stomach. “What chords can you pluck inside me?”
“So many.” Mikami ducked to kiss beneath Light’s jaw. His fingers tapped skin at the metronome’s rhythm, muscles tightening in instrumental tension, until a high gasp sung above where he kissed. “I’ll make your body sing.”
Faintly, the tune of Beethoven’s’ Fifth tweeted from Light’s back pocket. He groaned, placing one hand on Mikami’s crown to keep him at his neck and slipping the other behind to snag his phone. Shutting his eyes, Mikami kept licking and sucking marks over the thin throat’s skin, measuring how hazy he could make Light’s voice.
“Hello?” Light answered in a flinty tone, which turned dull on his next word. “Oh. Hello Misa.” His fingers danced through Mikami’s dark hair, pinching his ear playfully while he spoke without interest. “Yes, I’m sure they’re very impressed. You’ve had a fascinating career. Model and singer … Tonight? I’m not doing much.”
Mikami dragged his hand to toy with Light’s pants button, reminding him of his actual nighttime plans. In response, cold fingers nipped his ear lobe.
“I don’t mind being alone.” Light flickered his gaze to Mikami, gesturing for him to come closer. Despite their closeness, his expression remained turned off – guarded from passion or amusement; neutral to a point of robotic. Mikami kissed the cheek opposite where Light held his phone, feeling the rumbling of his parting goodbye to Misa. “I have so much work to do anyway. And so do you, hm? Yes. I love you. Talk to you later.”
The phone skittered across the table and Light took hold of Mikami, thumbs dug into his cheeks.
“Wash it out,” he whispered. “If you kiss me, it’ll wash out what I said and you can taste it.”
Mikami dropped into a hard kiss of Light’s soft, wanting mouth; he licked over the seam of it until lips parted for him. He tasted the dull I love you and its blossom into a lush savory flavor as he held Light closer, kissed him harder. Light opened to him, beckoning with hands and tongue to drink in an unspoken declaration. When they parted, their lips clicked on separation. Mikami grasped Light by the wrist and brought his hand to his mouth.
Slowly, he licked and sucked Light’s ring finger – down to the naked bottom. He imagined that Misa’s awful ring was there, gold on his tongue and stinging, as the metronome clicked on for no music. He’d wash it away; he’d make Light forget her again and again.
Artist: Blue Lyath (misora-massacre)
For: who-killed-sekitani-jun
Prompt: Gender swap Light with Sailor uniform
Artist’s notes: This was really fun to work on. I hope you like it!
Hey everyone! It’s James. I wanted to let everyone know I created a collection on Ao3 called “Sexy Enquirer” that you can place your fic in. All you need to do when you publish to Ao3 is under Collections, type in “Sexy Enquirer” and it should come up! Here’s a link to the collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Sexy_Enquirer_Gift_Exchange
Thank you so much for participating! There are more gifts still to be posted, so i hope y’all are ready for some lovely pieces.
Author: lightsturtleneck
For: thats-my-die-ary
Pairings/Characters: Misa x L
Rating/Warnings: Explicit!
Prompt: Misa x L non-yandere
Author’s notes: thank you so much for the challenging prompt! i hadn’t ever written this pair before, so i hope i did it justice! i hope you enjoy :))
–
The first time, Misa was the one who proposed it. A way for both of them to get over Light, and his devilish ways (that was not, in actuality, why she proposed the situation. Indeed, she just wanted to have an actually willing partner for once), and to her surprise Ryuzaki agreed. They were clumsy, fumbling around in the dark, not quite knowing who was touching who and where, but Misa knows that the orgasm she had that first night could not even be compared to any others she had, if she had had them before. Light was very ‘me me me’, both in life, and in the bedroom.
This time, L approached her, slipping something into her pocket as she ‘begged’ Light to take her back. She was playing a part. She is a very good actress. The paper that Misa pulls out of her pocket when she’s on the train reads “tonight. 10:30. Don’t be late.”
She’s 15 minutes late. L is not pleased and Watari is nowhere to be found. “Where’s old man Watari? He’s not chaperoning? We might do pervy things!” L rolled his eyes and led her to the elevator.
“I sent him to get specialty chocolates earlier today, but accidentally changed his ticket time from 9 am to 9 pm. He won’t be back until tomorrow, I’m sure. We can do all sorts of pervy things, if pervy things are what you came here for.” Misa considered this. She thought herself to be a good judge of character, and Ryuzaki didn’t seem to be lying…
“What makes you think that’s what I came here for?” L grinned, a small thing that made his whole face seem softer and younger.
“Well, for one the fact that you came at all, and for another last time.” Misa felt herself get wet at the memory. She had opted for no panties since she had taken a cab and hoped that Ryuzaki would like the surprise. Misa wondered when she had started to care about what Ryuzaki thought of her outfits. She opted for no response and leaned in for a kiss. Ryuzaki was surprised that she was so forward with her intentions: in his experience, Kira hid from the obvious truth as often as they could. Nonetheless, he broached the gap and met her for a kiss.
He maneuvered their bodies and pushed Misa gently against the wall, sliding his hands into her hair and deepening the kiss. Misa moaned into his mouth and L took that as a sign to tug a little harder. She gasped and L moved down to place open-mouthed kisses on her neck. Her hands tangled in his hair, and it was surprisingly soft. While Ryuzaki’s mouth was busy, his hands found something to do. They snaked up the front of Misa’s blouse, the sheer fabric bunching up and revealing her pale stomach. Ryuzaki squeezed her boob through her bra, the lace delicate under his fingers. She let out a soft sigh. Misa enjoyed attention but if she wanted this to go any further then she would have to take matters into her own hands.
She moved one of her hands out of Ryuzaki’s hair and gently trailed it down his chest and his pants. To her surprise and delight he was already turned on. She smiled and teased. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” He groaned and bit her neck.
“You might not believe this but I’ve heard that one before.” She laughed clear as a bell. “But yes, I am happy to see you.” She tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, and he tugged it over his head. He urged her to do the same. Quickly, they were topless, Misa clad on in her red, lacy bra and pleated skirt, L in his jeans. “Can I take this off you?” Ryuzaki asked, ever the gentleman.
“Of course, I wore just so you could take it off.” He laughed at that, and unclasped it more deftly than Misa expected. He leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth. He rolled the nub between his teeth, then sucked on it gently. If Misa had been wearing panties they would’ve been soaked. He toyed with the other using his nimble fingers. Misa decided it was time to speed things up a little bit. She gently pushed Ryuzaki onto the bed, watching him fall down with a quiet thump. “I have a surprise for you.” She lifted her skirt and watched Ryuzaki’s eyes go straight to her pussy, which pulsed in anticipation. “No panties! Ta-da!” Ryuzaki deftly stripped out of his jeans, not taking his eyes off of his ‘surprise’ if he could help it. Without a word he motioned for her to come closer.
“Do I have permission to eat you out then fuck you silly?” he asked, and when he said it, it didn’t sound ridiculous, it sounded like someone on the edge of letting go. Misa whimpered and nodded her yes. He pulled her towards him and laid her out on the bed, making sure she was comfortable before digging in. He licked up her labia, drinking up all of the moisture that had collected there during their foreplay. He parted her lips with a low groan in the back of his throat at the sight. The deep pink folds of her cunt were something beautiful to behold and Ryuzaki put his whole face into it. He licked up and down slowly, hesitating over her clit. He got the idea when she shoved his face into it. Slipping a finger into her to begin prepping her, he sucked on her clit, alternating behind hard and soft sucks, then resumed his licking up and down her whole pussy. She groaned in frustration as apparently she had been close.
“Ryuzakiiiiii I was so close.” she whined, voice heavy with lust. “Make me cum and then you can fuck me just please let me cum.” He grinned and sucked hard and her back arched off of the bed and her whole body spasmed as she let out a high pitched shriek. Ryuzaki knew better than to let off her clit right away, and sucked softly to ease her through her aftershocks. He was astonishingly hard.
“It’s my turn now, no?” He asked, devilish smirk on his face. She nodded, her eyes glassy. “Misa, I need a verbal answer.”
“Yes yes yes please PLEASE fuck me Ryuzaki!” Misa, moaned voice slightly hoarse. He smiled and pushed in a second finger. His hand was soaked with her cum by the time he decided that she was ready. Misa was already on another plane of existence. After getting some more verbal consent, he pushed in. Ryuzaki let her adjust on the tip for a moment, her face blissed out and smiling he pushed in further. She was so tight and so wet it was easy to bring himself to the brink. Before he knew it he was pounding into Misa’s tight pussy, shaking the bed and drawing out loud ‘oh oh oh’s’ from Misa. Her face was twisted in pleasure and she gripped the sheets. Ryuzaki reached down and thumbed over her clit as he drew closer to the brink. Misa’s cries got louder and she clenched tightly around him.
“Cum in me, please cum in me please fill me up please please please OH.” She came hard and fast and her clenching and squishing made Ryuzaki fall over the edge and cum inside her. They lay there together on the sheets, panting. Misa drifted off to sleep. She didn’t know what tomorrow bring but she knew, somehow, they would get through it together.
Author: masahikokida
For: izaori
Characters/Pairings: Matsuda/Matsuda’s Imaginary Version of Misa
Rating/Warnings: NSFW for nudity and general themes of voyeurism
Prompt: Matsuda having some pretty vivid fantasies, maybe one of Misa.
Author’s Notes: I realize now that this was an art prompt, but I hope I did the general idea some justice! Matsuda’s subconscious knows him better than he does and that means knowing Misa would top. 100%.
–
Damn, it was cold.
At least, that was what Matsuda had decided to blame for the tension that had been buzzing under his skin for the past several hours, keeping him from finding a comfortable position in the lush, swivel chair. Ryuzaki really had gone all out with the design of this new fortress of theirs, that was certain, and the detective could want for nothing in terms of state of the art fixtures with which to complete his endless tasks. But that mattered little, when the nature of his business had been so utterly unpleasant for so many months. So many months.
Matsuda had never been one to keep a calendar; less-so after he joined the police force. His was a mind that clung to the moment; willed it to hold some kind of meaning to carry him into the next.
Or, some kind of interest, really. Some kind of fun.
Some kind of stimulation.
Anything was better than the anticipation of sorrow and disappointment that had become mundane. Yet, it seemed unshakable. Just like the knowledge, lingering in the back of his head as he teetered on the edge of concentration, that Misa-Misa had recently turned off the light in her bedroom and finally gone to sleep.
Matsuda adjusted his position again, letting a sigh slip past his lips and into the echoing room. With all the grace of a high-schooler staying up past his bedtime, the detective propped himself up by the arms of his chair, casting his head backward to check that the room was empty. It was. He sat back down heavily and cleared his throat, savoring the slight rush of adrenaline as he finally allowed his eyes to linger for more than a second on the set of monitors hanging above his head.
Deftly, he sought out the particular monitor he was after. The one that showed her bedroom. The one that showed her. This time, his apprehension only lasted a few seconds.
At first, the implications of such a display had unnerved him. The cameras. The lack of privacy. The fact that Ryuzaki, despite claiming to trust him and the others, had probably been lying. And besides, there was something inside him insisting that the people who could be seen in the monitors likewise possessed the ability to turn around and see him as he watched them. And of course, they’d be disgusted.
But this, he had discovered over time, was different. Matsuda wasn’t just someone with an unhealthy curiosity. He was supposed to watch; he had the right to watch. It wasn’t like he had arranged it. It was something Ryuzaki thought was necessary for the investigation. L had chained himself personally to his primary suspect. It was completely justified that he had so many eyes on Misa-Misa.
Yet, the detective’s face still burned. Heh. No wonder.
Damn, she was hot.
Matsuda’s lower lip inched downward as he took in the current view of the young pop idol, curled up in her bed with the covers drawn up to her shoulders. That is, it wasn’t a view. It was more like a crime-scene. She was a criminal, after-all. She might have killed people, and if someone wasn’t watching her, she might kill again.
But there she was, sleeping peacefully on the bed put there just for her use. Though it might not be that cozy, if Ryuzaki is still so suspicious.
At least she looked cozy. She looked beautiful, in fact, and as Matsuda felt himself relaxing further at his desk, one of Misa’s arms stretched upward toward the headboard, shifting the blankets covering her. He blinked. She was definitely wearing lingerie.
Idly, what color? Matsuda’s chin came to rest against his shoulder, his vision growing cloudy with sleep almost immediately.
And as he drifted, the barriers in his mind lowered further and further downward.
It had been so many months. He was growing so used to the way her body moved; the way her voice roved across emotions; the different shades her eyes could take throughout a tedious work day. He had certainly considered himself lucky before - if only to dismiss the possibility that Ryuzaki was simply trying to bench him.
But Misa appreciated his company, didn’t she? She had been through so much since the investigation started, maybe it was doing her some good to hang around someone who wasn’t going to threaten her with handcuffs or solitary or interrogation.
The detective’s face grew suddenly hot.
Handcuffs. He had seen her in those before. He had seen her in a lot of horrible situations. He remembered, very vividly, her body bound in that brightly-lit room. Twitching there like some kind of pinned insect.
Misa, an insect? That wasn’t right.
She was the type who wouldn’t think twice about taking up a flyswatter. She was …
She was …
Cute. Scary. Unpredictable. Maybe even a killer. What could she do if freed from those bonds?
He shouldn’t have let Ryuzaki treat her like that.
It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t hot.
It wasn’t -
“Hey, Matsu! I was talking to you!”
The voice cut through the warm haze of his thoughts, leaving him keenly alert and utterly confused. If Matsuda had felt cold before, now he was practically shivering. He found that he was sitting on something hard and metallic, hands bound behind his back by something that clinked when he tried to move. Beams of light were assaulting his eyes, limiting his field of vision to a blurred shape immediately before his seat. Panic began to rise in his chest until, all at once, he was able to discern at least who it was that had addressed him, and his mouth grew very dry.
“Misa-Misa?” he croaked.
It couldn’t be anyone else. The silhouette in front of him was waifish and bouncing, sporting a curtain of hair that bobbed as the figure leaned forward with a faintly-defined grin.
“Clever boy, Matsu!”
It approached where Matsuda was sitting slowly, allowing him to drink in the reveal of Misa Amane, eyes half-closed and lips pursed in an almost roguish expression of satisfaction. As her outline grew clearer, the detective could see that she was clothed in nothing but a soft pink bra and panty set, and that she held her hands suspiciously behind those smooth, slender hips.
Whatever it was - whatever she had in store for him, Matsuda could not imagine denying this vision anything.
He coughed, trying to find the will to speak again, afraid that she would grow tired of him if he didn’t do something to keep her focused on him.
“W-what are you doing?”
Stupid. Why did he say that.
“Don’t be stupid, Matsu,” Misa echoed his thoughts, quite close to him now, her hair emitting a sweet aroma close to the detective’s face. “You don’t need to know that. You don’t need to know anything right now. You just need to sit tight and stay still for me, okay?”
Matsuda’s lip quivered. His arms tried to come forward, stopped by the chains he had almost forgotten were there.
“But I’m -”
“Shh,” Misa’s face was practically brushing against his now; his own height made manageable for her in his sitting position. “I forgot to say, you should also be quiet. If you want me to think you’re a good boy, that is.”
He was quiet, immediately.
Misa giggled again, drawing away slightly. Her hair was covering most of her chest, but he could still trace the curves of her small breasts with his eyes as he fought to keep himself completely still. It was growing increasingly difficult.
“Yay! In that case, I have a surprise for you.”
As Matsuda watched, gaping, the pop idol threw up one of the hands that had been poised behind her back. In it was a thick, red strip of fabric. His brows twitched, utterly bewildered as to what it could be, but he managed to keep quiet.
“This is for you!” Misa explained, approaching again. This time, she bypassed intimately close and straight up climbed on top of the detective’s lap, clasping a hand to his shoulder to steady herself. To the chorus of Matsuda’s ragged breathing, she smoothed out the cloth to it’s full length in her hands, holding them far apart just above his head.
“Perfect. Now,” her chest was right in his face, her chest was right in his face, “don’t move. This is your first surprise.”
Her chest was right in his face and in the next moment, something else was. A blindfold. It had been a blindfold in her hand, and Misa was tying it deftly behind Matsuda’s head, gathering up not a small amount of hair as she did so. He stifled a grunt. She seemed not to notice. The next moment, the weight of her body had vanished from his lap.
“But I think you’ll like the second even better.”
Matsuda’s chest tightened in anticipation as a small, warm hand suddenly landed on his knee. By this point, he was practically gnawing his lip to keep from speaking; attending to the world of soft red in front of his eyes with every ounce of his strength.
“You’re so cute, Matsu,” Misa’s voice wafted up to him. “Trying so hard to obey me. Let’s see if you can keep up the good work, or,” the hand on his knee slid slowly up his thigh and toward his crotch. “If you slip up and ruin this for me.”
Misa was unzipping his pants. Matsuda gasped, head arching backward. That didn’t count as speaking, did it? Misa didn’t seem upset, because her hand didn’t stop. Instead another joined it, tugging playfully at his pants, inching them downward. Matsuda closed his eyes against the blindfold.
“There we go,” sang the unseen idol. The next thing Matsuda knew, a small nose was pressed up against his lower abdomen, right above the elastic line of his boxers.
“Now, let me show you how Light likes it.”
Hazel eyes snapped open.
Shit.
Matsuda righted his head and gave it a rough shake, unkept hair dancing. His pulse was thundering in his ears, a mixture of embarrassment and lingering arousal settling in his stomach rather sourly.
But the room was still empty. He was still utterly alone. And there was no way Ryuzaki could actually read minds.
Author: @pashmina-dhaage
For: @kiranatrix
Pairings/Characters: L/Light Yagami
Rating/Warnings: Explicit, very mild Dom/Sub vibes (part of the roleplay), Sex Toy
Prompt: Lawlight; L requests that Light act like Kira in bed or he role plays ‘interrogating’ Light (new or established relationship, mind games a plus)
Author’s notes: Hey! This is an established relationship scenario and lawlight trying to roleplay an interrogation. Hope you like!
–
L never did things half-heartedly. It was both impressive and funny to Light. The room he was sitting in was small and dark, but not cold. There were two chairs and a desk, lit by a lamp hanging overhead. Kind of old school, he noted. How L liked it. And of course, the handcuffs. Attached to Light’s right hand and fastened to the desk leg. It was the one Light had personally selected while shopping in Amsterdam, not too hard on his wrist but sturdy enough.
He had been waiting for 20 minutes. He knew L knew he hated waiting, so he was pretty sure this was on purpose. It annoyed him, the wait and the fact that L knew and remembered so much.
Just as he was getting fidgety, he heard faint footsteps outside the door. The footsteps came closer and then, the door opened.
Light heard him enter, and felt his presence in the room. Suddenly, the room felt warmer.
He heard the movement of L’s jeans as he walked forward to stand behind his chair. He was so close to Light. He tried to anticipate his touch, maybe fingers carding through his hair or hands sliding down his shirt or his thumbs stroking his face. But L did nothing. Light stayed quiet, but every nerve of his body was thrumming with excitement. He hadn’t seen L for a week, he had missed him. He wanted him.
L bent down and placed a soft kiss on Light’s cheek.
Light jumped and leaned into it almost at the same time. But L had already stood up, and was now walking to the other side of the desk, laughing under his breath. The quiet, small huffs of breath Light was now so used to because of the many times he would hear them during family conversations or Wammy dinners.
The lamp lit the desk and the chairs but because L was still standing, he remained mostly in the dark, like a shadow looming over Light. Light licked his lips and waited for him to speak.
‘Hello, Light’, L said. The sound of L’s voice, L’s deep, clear voice, hung in the air like electricity, and Light couldn’t help but remember the kind of things L had said to him the last time they had met in the same voice and suddenly he had goosebumps all over.
'Detective L’, he said, playing his part, giving his voice an extra silkiness, which he knew grated on L’s nerves.
'Mr Yagami’, L began, his face still partially in darkness, 'you are here because I suspect’, he paused for dramatic effect, 'that you are Kira.’
'How dare you.’ Light narrowed his eyes. 'This is an insult to my reputation as a law officer.’
'And yet you do realize’, L continued, 'that your position as a law officer makes it even more likely that you are Kira.’
Light raised his chin. 'You have no proof.’
L started walking around the desk. 'I just need the murder weapon. I need to know how it is that you can murder people sitting far, far away in another continent without even leaving your house.’
Light fidgeted in his seat again. L always took these games far too seriously and it became Light’s job to bring him back from these tangents.
'You can search me Detective, and you will find nothing.’ Light raised a brow at L. The corner of L’s lips turned up minusculy.
'Perhaps. But you may be hiding something too dangerous for me under those clothes. I don’t want to take any chances.’ Oh so he was going to make Light wait for his touch. Bastard.
'Well, detective’, Light smiled, as fake as he could manage, 'if you do not have any proof of my guilt, you should let me go.’
'I do have something’, L said, dragging his words. 'Two days ago, a parcel came to your residence, the contents of which you refuse to disclose. I would like to know what’s inside it.’
Bastard! 'I - what? The parcel doesn’t have to do with any of this, L!’
'Mr Yagami’, L said warningly, 'you said anything is game. Are you backing away now?’
Light started at L furiously. L stared back.
Are you backing away?
I can’t believe you are using this for that!
Are you backing away?
'No.’ He wasn’t going to lose. 'The package doesn’t have anything to do with - Kira.’
'Then perhaps you can tell me what’s inside it?’
Light smiled at L widely. 'No.’
L smiled back. 'Very well then’, he said, switching on the vibrator inside Light.
Light jumped. He bit his lip at the last second to stop his moan from escaping. He had been waiting for L to use it since the beginning, since he had made him sit in the room, and the anticipation had been killing him. And the second he had forgotten about it, L had pressed the button.
Light wanted to put his head back and groan. He wanted to grind against the chair in abandon and satisfy himself under L’s gaze. But the hungry look on L’s face as he stared at his swelling lips made him stay still, and he remembered he had a game to play.
'These are some unfair tactics you are using, Detective’, he managed to keep his voice steady as he tried his hardest to stay still.
'All tactics are fair in love and war, Mr Yagami’, L said, his voice sounding rougher than usual. Surely this must be affecting him too, surely he must want Light as much as Light wanted him…..
'I just need to know what was in the package and I will uncuff you right here’, L spoke, right into Light’s ear and Light wanted to melt into a puddle. The vibrations were timed a few seconds apart, so he tried to take a few deep breaths to not be distracted.
'I don’t know Detective, both of us seem to be in a little situation right now’, he said, pointedly glancing at L’s crotch as he walked around to the front again where a tent was visible.
L stopped, pulled back the chair facing him and sat down.
'Ah, but you are the one handcuffed to the chair and I am the one with the remote’, he said, pressing the button on the remote again.
The vibrations sped up, and now there was no rhythm to them. Light sighed a little, closed his eyes and couldn’t help but press his crotch into the chair. He knew how he must look right now in the light of the lamp, his hair a little messy but not too much, cheeks flushing with colour because he couldn’t stop the rest of his body from reacting to L and his voice and his vibrator even if he could stop himself from making a noise, biting his lips, grinding on the chair like a horny dog. Sure enough, as he opened his eyes, L’s eyes looked hooded, and one of his long fingers was tugging at his lips in fascination.
'C'mon Light’, L’s voice was coaxing, 'don’t punish us both. Tell me what’s in the package.’
Light crossed a leg over the other, L’s eyes immediately jumping to them. 'I am in quite a comfortable position right now, Detective. I don’t see why I should tell you anything.'
Both of them looked at each other in silence. Then L spoke.
'Uncross your legs.’
'No.’
'Light’, L said in a voice lower than he had used before, 'I told you to uncross your legs.’
Light uncrossed his legs.
'Yes, Detective.’
'Good.’ L purred. Light felt L move and suddenly his feet was sliding up Light’s leg and knee and thigh and finally came to rest near his crotch. Then L started rubbing his foot against his cock.
Light moaned, this time unable to hold it back and at the same time felt the vibrations speed up to a steady, nonstop pace, giving him no respite. Without thinking he pushed his crotch back against his foot, wanting some relief.
And then a few seconds later it was gone and he was thrusting into the empty air.
L looked at him smugly. 'Did you like that, Light?'
Light huffed in frustration. 'Fuck you.’
'So you did,’ L said satisfactorily. 'You know, maybe I should frisk you now, like I should have done before.’ He stood up and walked around to stand behind Light.
'Stand up’, L ordered and Light obeyed, and felt L’s breathe on his neck. Oh how badly he wanted L to kiss him there….
'Hands on the desk, bend forward’, L relayed more instructions and Light followed without thinking, wanting relief.
L placed a hand on Light’s waist and slid it down to his thighs, taking his time, ignoring Light’s cock. Then he slid them back up, and cradled Light’s ass in his hands, quite shamelessly, Light noted, even as he tried to push back. He heard L chuckle, and giving it a quick squeeze, L moved his hands up from his ass, coming to the front, slowly untucking Light’s shirt.
'You know how hard I can be Light, when I don’t want to give’, he spoke right in Light’s ear now, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. 'Tell me, and I will fuck you so nicely you’ll forget what this was even about.’
Light shuddered, and tried his hardest to remember why he was holding back. 'I am not one of your criminals L, I am not going to succumb this easily…’ he sucked in a breath as L’s hands drifted lightly over his chest.
'And yet here you are Light, playing along’, L’s hands reached his left nipple and ran a finger lightly over it. 'Never one to back out, are you?’ He said, pinching it. Light hissed. 'I know you can’t last long with that vibrator Light, you have no idea how happy it made me when you agreed to this.’ He pushed the shirt down from Light’s shoulders, leaving him naked from the above. 'Colour?’
Light sighed. 'Green, Detective.’
L kissed him on the cheek again. 'Alright then’, he said, working on Light’s belt and making quick work of it. Soon, Light was naked in the room, except for his underwear, and thankful that the room was warm despite it being in a dungeon.
'You are wearing too many clothes, L’, he said, noting the roughness of L’s jeans on his back. L didn’t reply but answered with the sound of a zipper opening. Moaning, Light pushed his ass back and rubbed against L’s crotch before L pushed him away gently.
'Should I fuck you on the table or against it?’ He asked softly and Light almost cried out in joy, thankful that L wasn’t pursuing the issue of the package delivery any more.
'I am handcuffed you can only fuck me against it idiot’, he said in a rush.
L laughed, a full throated laugh and it made joy pool in Light’s stomach, despite the arousal and desperate need for orgasm.
L slid down his underwear and pushed it down to his knees, and relieved Light of the vibrator. By this point Light was already so aroused he couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He wanted to come as L fucked him, not with the vibrator.
'Turn around so I can suck you’, L said and Light turned around blindly and was face to face with L for the first time all day. Instinctively, he leaned forward and captured L’s lips in a kiss.
They kissed hungrily, then gently, then passionately again as L’s hands rubbed his cheeks and Light carded the fingers of his one free hand through L’s hair. L backed Light up to make him sit on the edge of the desk, and raised one of his leg up to place it on the hand of the chair. Then without warning, he leaned down and took Light’s cock in his mouth.
Light moaned the loudest since he had entered the room and the sound went straight to L’s own hardening cock. He spread Light’s thighs a bit further to lick across his hole, and only stopped to take the bottle of lube from inside his pocket. Light cried out with pleasure as L’s long finger breached him, and curled inside.
It didn’t take long for L to open Light up sufficiently and with both of them getting more impatient, it took just a few manoeuvres to get Light to stand again with his back to L, placing one of his knees on the desk. L almsot salivated at the sight of an open and pliant Light presented to him. He stroked his cock a couple times and just as Light turned around with a chastising look on his face to make him hurry up, he slid inside Light, taking his time, punishing and gratifying both of them with his slowness.
'Fuck’, Light cried out, as L sped up his thrusts, both of them close to climaxing because of the time they had taken before. Light closed his eyes and felt like he was nothing but the parts where he was attached to L, where he could feel L thrusting inside, where L’s hands were gripping him, where his hair touched his shoulder, his grunts matching his…..
Light was seconds away from coming. Bracing himself for the moment of ecstatic nothingness, it was then that he felt L’s cock leave his body in one smooth movement.
There was silence for a full five seconds where the only sound inside the room were his pants and L’s restrained grunts.
'L’, Light spoke, voice quivering, 'what the fuck are you doing?!’
'Light’, L was panting too, but his voice sounded as if he was steeling himself, 'I need to know what’s in the package Light.’
Light could have screamed. In fact he did. 'L get the fuck inside me right now and finish this before I kill you right here!’
L rubbed Light’s shoulders in what he probably believed was a comforting gesture. 'Just tell me Light, just tell me what you ordered for Quillish’s birthday and I will make you come.’
If Light wasn’t handcuffed, L was pretty sure he would have hit him. Then he finally broke.
'Oh my God L! It’s a freaking painting! I ordered a fucking painting for his birthday gift! What the fuck is wrong with you?!’
Pause.
'I love you Light’, L said, for the first time and before Light could turn around to scream at him even more about how unfair it was for him to say this at that moment, L pushed back inside him.
Light instinctively gripped the table harder as L fucked without restraint and soon Light lost track of all thoughts. And then he was finally, finally coming just as he felt L come inside him.
He collapsed on the desk as L sagged on him, and stayed there, taking their time to come back to the world and face the mess they had made moments before. L fished in his jeans pocket groggily, and took out a small key and unlocked Light’s handcuff even as Light lay there, unmoving, eyes closed.
L kissed his hand.
'I just needed to make sure it wasn’t something the kids would make fun of you for, you know. Wammy opens all his gifts at the table’, L said matter-of-factly, rubbing Light’s wrist.
Light cracked open an eye. 'Did you mean it?’
L looked at him for a moment before leaning down and kissing Light on the mouth. 'Yes.’
Artist: kris izaori
For: Pensulliwen
Prompt: Misa and Light on top of L’s grave, celebrating their victory in a not particularly respectful fashion.
Artist’s Notes: Remember me? And how you drew Demegawa in a tub full of money? I’m here to atone for my sins, by making sins. Curse you for making me draw this. I had fun, though! I was going to make it a little more frisky or Misa focused but I kept restarting with different poses and had to pick something. I hope you can forgive me for Demegawa! And also hope you like this! :’)
Author: @translightyagami
For: @pashmina-dhaage
Pairings/Characters: lawlight
Rating/Warnings: Explicit
Prompt: I did a mix! a little from an art prompt (“L putting Light’s shoes on him maybe”) and from a fic prompt (“L as Light’s professor, Light as his cheeky student; they are fucking ofc”)
Author’s notes: hello! i was so excited to explore the prompts you gave since i’ve nvr rlly done lawlight with a prof/student angle. i hope u don’t mind there’s no full sex but instead a lot of sexual tension. well, i don’t u will mind too much. anyway. :) hope u enjoy!
–
The phone rang on L’s desk and woke him from a dream about rain. In the dream, water had poured from open windows into his office – filling every corner as he was unable to move. Yet the rain was warm, swallowing him into a loving embrace. He fluttered his eyes open in a dreary, reluctant way and grabbed the phone, answering it in a quiet voice.
“Hello?”
“Come down.” Light spoke in a sharp, yet hushed tone. “Please. You need to come outside.”
“Why? Are you injured?”
“No. There’s a big mud puddle outside the building, and I can’t get across.”
“Hm? Where’d the mud come from?”
A long sigh rumbled through the phone and L sat up, stretching his arms after they’d cramped post-nap. As he reached toward the ceiling, his eyes caught the glaze of rainfall over his office window. Phone pressed between his shoulder and head, L stood and pushed his leather chair back before peering out across the university courtyard. In his ear, Light muttered low, upset Japanese.
“You shouldn’t sleep so much during the day,” he said. “What if I called and you didn’t pick up? Then you’d snore right through your next class, and we’d both be in trouble.”
“I’m too tired to stay awake all day.” L dragged out his vowels, letting a near-lecherous smile leak into his voice. “Too many strenuous nighttime activities make it hard to keep up.”
Through the window, he watched students stumble through mud in fruit-candy colored mackintoshes, their gait sluggish in the soft falling drizzle. When he peered down at the front entrance of his building – the central one for criminal sciences, or crim-sci as the course guide called it – there was a moat formed between the lawn and concrete steps. A few students arriving for his noon theory and practice class leapt over the muddy cave-in, but one person – the most important one, to L at least – stood with an arm crossed over his chest right at the moat’s edge.
“Imply that our relationship is the cause for your bad work ethic again,” Light said, “and it’s over for good. Now, come help me get across.”
L clicked his tongue. “Why don’t you just jump across?” He tapped the window, waiting to see if Light glanced his way and then waved when the ant-sized Light glared at him from below. “If I come down to carry you across, people will think I’m giving you special treatment.”
“I didn’t ask you to carry me.” A faint scuffling backgrounded Light’s frustrated tone. “But I guess you’re right. People would talk. I’ll have to try and jump.”
“I have faith in you,” L said. “You can do it.”
“Don’t say that stuff like that.” Light lowered his voice, hesitating. “Encouraging me in that type of voice.”
“Which voice? This is how I always talk.”
“No. That voice is deeper. It’s,” Light inhaled and sighed. “It’s making me hard.”
“Ah.” L grinned. “Yes. I used it last night, didn’t I? When you were sucking my cock, doing such a good job.”
“Exactly.” L watched Light roll his shoulders back as he spoke and remembered the same motion – done as L had trailed kisses down the other man’s spine. “I have to hang up. I can’t jump on the phone.”
Before L could utter a goodbye, the receiver clicked and the call ended. He snorted, slipping the phone into his trouser pocket, and looked out the window. Books held to his chest and bag strapped over his chest, Light hesitated before he stepped back – momentum to build to a futile leap. Landing foot first into the mud, Light stumbled through it in percussive, upset stomps until he wobbled onto the concrete steps.
Eyes still tracing the shaking bend of Light’s back, L began pulling out the laces of his black oxfords. He could never entirely keep his eyes off Light, to be honest. To close off visions of the man – always front row in L’s seminars; always dressed in dark sweaters and high-waist trousers; always pursing his lips like a bow ready to shoot an arrow into someone’s heart – would be akin to blocking out the sun.
Something more than fate pushed him to ask the intrepid man to meet him after office hours for coffee – desire, which L always caved to. Was desire what moved Light to ask about extra study sessions, alone in L’s off-campus apartment? He liked to think they were run through by the same sword of yearning and pulled to each other by mirrored amorous wounds. But he couldn’t count those thoughts as true; L enjoyed the fantasy of someone loving him back more than the reality of simple shared lust.
He tucked two fingers into the heel of one shoe and pulled it off before doing the same to its brother. With both shoes hanging off the crooked index and middle finger on his left hand, L headed to the downstairs lobby.
The criminal science building was built sometime before L’s adoptive father, Quillsh Wammy, was dean of the liberal arts university his son currently taught at. Much of its outdated charms, like leaky bathroom faucets, thin jade green carpeting, and wide, grand staircase, were holdovers from the late 20s when Wammy redecorated the campus to suit his Gatsby-ian sensibilities. L swung around the second floor banister to thunder down the last flight of steps in socked feet. A few students passed him and offered mumbled greetings – their faces ashen as they trudged upward to L’s American colleague Stephen’s counterterrorism lecture. He didn’t begrudge them their unhappiness; hearing about the dull yet terrifying intelligence state even over a light lunch with Dr. Gevanni drove L to take three ibuprofens. Light had given him a stunningly cold lecture about the damage ibuprofen abuse could do but still let L lay his head in his lap, petting his hair and talking about his watercolor elective.
In the first floor lobby, students cloistered themselves in damp circles around worn furniture. Light sat alone on a chaise lounge, somehow taking up the entire cushion despite not occupying much actual space on the couch. His presence was larger than his body. Over his shoulders, his grayish green coat was powdered by the rainstorm but not sodden, unlike his poor drenched footwear. Some women walked past him, their gait stilted in obvious coordination, to issue soft concerned questions L couldn’t hear as he approached Light. His heart – stupidly – lifted when Light refused to answer the women’s questions. Instead, sharp, clear brown eyes followed L from the stairs until he stood toe to toe with Light’s loafers.
Unspeaking, L dropped to his knees. He grabbed Light by the ankle and lifted his muddy shoe, turning it this way and that. Flecks of yellow threaded through the brown and green sludge – tiny buttercup petals. Massaging the delicate skin uncovered by sock or pant leg, L froze as fingers dusted through his hair. He turned toward their touch, seeking the sun in them. Light dropped his hand when their eyes met and let it hang – taut in posed casualty.
“Everyone’s staring,” he whispered – just low enough for L alone to hear.
“Hm?” L balanced Light’s heel on his own thigh and began to untie his laces, index and thumb pinching the ends gingerly. “Who’s staring? Besides you.”
“Professor.” Light shook his head, a smile fighting into his tone. “This whole lobby of people thinks we’re doing something inappropriate.”
“I’m only taking off your dirty shoes,” L breathed, his dark eyes flickering to meet Light’s steady gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”
Light swiped his tongue across his lower lip; the arrow finally loosed from the bow and struck L through. His hands fumbled briefly with the laces, catching them a second out of rhythm. Around them, a number of students chatted in soft tones – wet squelches following as they turned, embarrassed and peering over their shoulders. L tugged out the knots until the laces hung limp to the thinning carpet.
“No,” Light said. “Take them off, if you want. I’ll go barefoot for your lecture – more fun for you, hm?”
L laughed. “You won’t be barefoot,” he said. “Although I wouldn’t mind it.” He slipped off first the left shoe, then the right, but paused as he held Light’s foot in his palm. Magenta socks, made of creamy thin knit, encased both feet except for the right big toe. A small hole let skin peek out, and L remembered the exact lifted floorboard in his apartment that had made the hole. His chest simmered as flashes of Light drunk off a Burgundy bottle they’d shared, his smooth yet unskilled dance to one of L’s disco records, and the blush his cheeks got when he tripped over that floorboard – the mourning both of them had for his ruined socks.
“I always wear them for this class.” Light wiggled his toes in L’s grasp, smiling wider when dark eyes flickered up to his face. “They’re good luck.”
“If you keep teasing me like this,” L said, “we’ll run right out of good luck, and everyone will know exactly where you got this hole.”
He grabbed his own shoe and slipped Light’s foot into its glossy black leather. The snug fit burned in his chest likes a slow swallowed asteroid melting his insides. For a long time, L thrived on his own difference: how he stood away from others, how they were smaller or bigger than him in unappealing ways. Yet with Light, being near the same size in everything was comforting – that he could slip into L’s clothes, his home, his life, without a wrinkle. A shared shoe size was a cipher for a shared consciousness, a knowledge between the two of them no one else had.
Once Light’s feet were re-housed in L’s shoes, he stood and offered the man his hand. Light took it, wrapping his long, tapered fingers in a tight squeeze around L’s palm.
“They fit,” Light said. “I guess I can still go to the ball.”
“Let’s have you at class first, Cinderella.” L dropped his hand quickly, missing the warmth within an instant. “First row, I assume?”
“As long as you don’t pick on me the whole class period.” Light spoke, unsteadied, while flexing the hand L let go of. His cheeks speckled pink, he made polite smiles toward a few nosy stares. “I’d hate you to be accused of favoritism.”
“No.” Locked in his throat, L’s voice was distant and his attention hazy on everything that wasn’t Light, who raised an eyebrow at his absent tone. “I won’t— I won’t pick on you. Too much.”
The lecture room was mid-sized, appropriate for a higher level course with a smaller class size, so L couldn’t escape the amused glimmer in all of his students’ eyes as he entered the room in his socked feet. He was known for casual dress – wearing at that moment a loose sweatshirt decorated by a lounging, bikini-clad cat on a beach – but once he began his lesson, most backs straightened out of amusement and into study. Light didn’t follow the rest, however; his brown eyes were warm and bright with laughter he never let touch his lips, posture loose as his legs dangled beneath the table. For the entire class, L had an unobstructed view of his own shoes dancing on Light’s fidgeting feet.
An erection haunted L for the rest of the hour – half hard, but not any less distracting. He kept thinking of Light laid over his office desk, still in L’s oxfords and nothing else, fingering himself with wet, dripping moans; Light kneeling at L’s feet, bent into a perfect bridge to kiss them and then upward to suck his cock; and Light in his own apartment – smaller and colder than L’s place – in those holey magenta socks, bare toe tapping the floor while he showed L how to chop tofu.
L stood behind the podium without moving; his cock was at full mast and unavoidable. Gaze flickering between his lesson notes, the screen projecting his presentation, and all the hungry faces devouring his explanations for the vast, unkind world of criminal science, L paused as he caught Light’s eyes. They were shining, yes, with something he couldn’t name. L so rarely couldn’t name what things were, in fact he lived in spaces and among other people who behaved in ways he could name – selfish; desperate; unhappy. As Light looked at him while writing in his notebook, tapping L’s shoe, wincing at the bad jokes in the presentation, he couldn’t place words to whatever shone there – in Light’s eyes.
After a moment, L stared back at Light, and the other man mouthed something to him. Thank you. Light winked and flexed his foot. I’m so hard. Light trailed a hand to stroke between his legs, tongue licking over his lips.
A drowning warmth flooded L first in his chest and then in his head, until he was dizzy. Such sensations left him alarmed, yet he didn’t fight the unspoken words surrounding him.
“Class dismissed,” L said, slapping his podium. “I have someone- thing, sorry. Something I need to do.”
Students groaned; others tittered with glee. Clear brown eyes met L’s and shone in mysterious focus. Pink lips wrapped around soundless words: I love you. Light smiled with all his teeth.
The words poured in through L’s skin and filled him to bursting. He smiled back at Light and sunk into the words’ beckoning embrace: a dream almost come true.
Author:@missmomentss
For: @misora-massacre
Pairings/Characters: BxNaomi
Rating/Warnings: teen, mild sexual content
Prompt: Naomi come back from a business trip and things get romantic.
Author’s notes: This is my first time writing a smut so I hope you enjoy it.
—
Naomi looks at her watch waiting for the taxi to take her home. It’s been a busy couple of months she’s had.First it was being engaged to her fellow cop Rue Ryuzaki ,and Second being assign a case with the Japanese police to investigate a double homicide that,happen in Shinjuku a couple of weeks ago.
It has been a while since she and Rue did a case with each other. Last time they did a case together it was in Los Angeles,with them exposing a businessman that was selling highly illegal drugs to the black market.That was funded by a very dangerous gang. It was a wild case and their were times were they were sure that they wouldn’t make it but they did thanks to Naomi’s investigative skills and Rue’s close attention to details. After the both them spending time with each other and eventually forming a friendship throughout their cases.Naomi got attached to Rue and finally knowing we’re he’s coming from.
So after months and months of being together Rue finally presented his ring to her and finally started a new life with him. They both moved into apartment where Rue grew up in England. Apparently he’s also been working with police to and occasionally working his own cases with others.He prefers working from behind the scenes much similar to his mentor. He has been working like this for months and gets a bit of sunlight here and there but most of the time he’s cooped up in their apartment drinking coffee and eating mini strawberry jam sandwiches. Today was a special day and Rue had missed Naomi,often thinking about her a lot. So he planned her a very special night just for the two of them.
Rue was sitting in his chair with his black bath robe,crossed-legged,when the door opens and Naomi enters.The smell of rain fills the room as she is drenched with water,her hair a pitch black from the rain.Rue staring her in aw she was beautiful he really missed her and was glad she was back.
“You have been staring at me for a while Rue, is their something wrong also why are there candles around the the house? Did you do this all for me.Naomi questioned Rue while putting her jacket away.
He nods at her and walks towards her with open arms.She smiles at him and hugs him tight,feeling Rue hardness through his robe she smells his musty cologne from his chest.She doesn’t want to let go,she lifts up her head to look at him.His reddish-brown eyes staring at her dark brown ones both glazing at each other with lust. She kisses him and he kisses her back his tongue entering her mouth,he can hear the moans that are coming from her mouth.
Rue lifts her up and places her on the couch,he is on top of her as she’s underneath Rue she slides her hand from Rue’s cheek to his robe she opens it exposing his bare chest and sliding her fingers across it.Naomi sits up so that her head is near Rue’s chest.
She starts kissing it.She stops, Rue lifts himself up and then proceeds to undress himself,completely bare naked his knees are both kneeling on the couch.Naomi is doing the same she then lifts up her shirt and drop it on the floor. She wraps her arm around Rues neck and starts kissing him he moves on top her and she lift her leg around his back.Holding Naomi’s leg he grinds his dick against her crotch and she grinds against him,their breaths both catching up with each other’s. They continue this for a couple of minutes until they stop,Rue sits on the couch with his legs spread.Naomi gets up and kneels between them and she starts stroking his dick up and down,she starts slowly but then starts quicken up the pace.Rue groaning in the process,she starts going faster and faster than eventually stop as Rue gasps.He comes in the process,leaving him in a panting mess.
Naomi sits down beside “Thank you” she smile at him and he responses back to her with
“You’re Welcome, love” they both kiss each other and fall asleep peacefully.
Author: kiranatrix
For: missmomentss
Pairing/Characters: Beyond Birthday/L Lawliet
Rating/warnings: M; mild smut
Prompt: L/B mild smut
Author’s notes: The prompt wasn’t very specific so I let my imagination wander. I didn’t want this to be the usual kind of L/B fic, so there’s no prison breakout or kidnapping or jam. This is a Magician AU that takes place in Paris in the late 1800s or early 1900s, where L is a famed illusionist and B is…an imposter. Or maybe it’s the reverse. ‘Copper and silver’ is the name of a magic trick, using coins.
—–
There had always been two types of magic in the world. One was quite real, but elusive, and more of a curse than a blessing on those who could channel it. The other was the magic of mankind– the sleight of hand or memory trick, the careful distraction and well-placed mirror. It was the business of the famed illusionist Lazarus, also (un)known as L Lawliet, that no one in his audience should ever know the difference.
He’d been selling out his shows across Europe for nearly a decade, and from the Thames to the Danube, just the name of Lazarus invoked an aura of mystery and awe. He’d been invited to most of the major courts to amuse the nobility of the continent despite his own very humble birth. Not that anyone knew anything true about his origins; L’s backstory as the exiled bastard son of a Russian prince was his most carefully cultivated illusion.
The vast majority of people who came to see him desperately wanted to believe in real magic to dull the edge of life’s mundane reality. This made them easy to fool with clever devices of his own invention. A lemon tree that seemed to grow from a seed before their eyes, sawing someone in half who was then put back together again unharmed, submerging himself in chains underwater only to escape at the last dramatic moment. Although each of his tricks did in fact have an explanation rooted in reality, competitors, skeptics, and scientists had all attempted to parse out the mechanisms to explain his illusions and all had left disappointed.
L had not always believed in ‘real’ magic himself, but he’d never needed to. There’d never been any odd phenomenon he couldn’t eventually provide with a reasonable explanation. He considered himself a man of science and rationality, not someone who was willing to suspend disbelief for the sake of entertainment. He knew he was brilliant, and no one could be a better skeptic than he was of his own performances. Thus, his performances were inscrutable perfection start to end, each trick a thread for the audience to weave their own pretty blindfold with.
But it took the eyes of a fake magician to know the real thing when he saw it, down a rainy street in Paris the afternoon before a show. He’d forgotten his umbrella, as usual, and had been darting from one sheltered overhang to another on his way back to his hotel when he saw a curious hand-painted board pointing down an oil lamp-lit alleyway. It was nearly as tall as he was, and upon it was was crudely scrawled:
~HAVE YOUR MISFORTUNES TOLD BY LAZARUS~
For one silver franc, the Incredible Lazarus will answer the following:
Your real and true name! (Great for orphans or just anyone who forgot!)
The day you will die! (Get your affairs in order!)
Whether anyone in a picture lives or is deceased, as well as their name! (Like deadbeat parents, runaway spouses, or people lost at sea!)
If you need a bath! (Free of charge!)
Guaranteed to be 100% accurate and true or twice your money back! (proof required)
Usually, L would roll his eyes at low-brow hucksters like this and be on his way, but this time was different. This time, someone had purloined his good name and was using it for cheap tricks! Anger and irritation bubbled up in him as he spied the queue to get into a door in the alley, but it was matched with a good dose of curiosity, too. Who in their right mind would so brazenly advertise these services when everyone knew the REAL Lazarus was in town and performing just down the street? The easy thing to do would be to announce at his own show later that this was just a fraud, an imitator, or simply ignore it altogether as the price of fame.
No, L needed to see this for himself, confront the man. He walked towards the door, ignoring the line-up and grabbing a newspaper out someone’s hand to use as a makeshift umbrella.
“Oi! I was reading that!” The man glared at L in surprise.
“I’ll return it shortly.”
“Wha, sopping wet?!” The man pointed to the back of the queue. “And the line starts back–” He cut off abruptly to catch something L tossed his way, gaping down at a gold coin. He tested it with his teeth, piping down after that.
When L got to the front of the line he announced, “Time for everyone to go home. This man is a fraud and not the true Lazarus. I am.”
“We’ve been waiting an hour or more! Prove it!” The rest of the people chanted ‘Prove it! Prove it’ until L held up a finger and suddenly, the rain stopped. Amid their awed silence, he deftly folded the wet newspaper into an origami crane which he perched on his hand. He blew on it and it caught fire, the flame changing from white to blue as it floated away down the alley. The crowd parted to let it pass and then broke into an uproar of clapping and cheers as it exploded into a burst of sparks in the shape of an L.
“How’d he do that?!”
“He MUST be the real Lazarus!”
L slouched forward slightly in an approximation of a bow. What had seemed like magic to them was nothing more than noticing a break in the clouds and improvising, and a bit of phosphorus dust artfully sprinkled from his ring onto the wet paper. “Now, if you’ll all check your pockets, I believe you’ll find tickets to my show tonight. I invite you all as my guests.” It wasn’t really in his nature to give things away for free, or to be so polite, but he’d learned when being the showman Lazarus versus L Lawliet would get him his way the quickest.
The man who’d had his newspaper snatched hung back a moment as the others meandered away, smiling and excited. He thumbed at the closed door behind L, “Another coin and I’ll give that fraud a thrashin’ for ya.”
“No.” L turned and opened the door, stepping aside quickly as a woman in tears bustled past him.
From further inside came the call, “Well, you asked!” followed by some soft cackling. “Next!”
L pressed a thumb to his bottom lip as he brushed aside a ratty tasseled curtain, his already large pupils widening to near blackness to adjust to the flickering candlelight. The darkness partially hid the ramshackle state of the room, and exotic-looking but cheap carpets were flung around to hide the rest. When he approached a table set in the middle of the room, L had to check that he wasn’t looking into a mirror. But no, his mirror image was seated and grinning like the cat that had caught the canary.
“There’s not going to be anyone else.” L climbed into the opposite chair, perching in it as he was his habit when he wasn’t performing. “I sent them away.” He quickly scrutinized the man, looking for flaws in the disguise. They were approximately the same age, mid-20s, of similar built and features, although artful makeup and posture must be contributing to the effect.
“Well, well, well…” Beyond Birthday gracefully moved into the same crouching position, mimicking each of L’s movements with precision but allowing his eyes to flick briefly above L’s head. “That was a very rude thing to do, don’t you think? I guess they all got soggy for nothing.”
“Stealing a person’s name and pretending to be them is what strikes me as rude.” L tilted his head, frowning when the imposter did the same.
“A man’s gotta eat.” Beyond’s grin didn’t falter as he modulated his voice closer to L’s timbre and pitch. “And I wasn’t stealing it so much as…borrowing it. I suppose you can have it back now.” He had what he wanted– L’s presence and undivided attention at last.
“I don’t appreciate it being stolen OR borrowed.” L squinted in the darkness, both unnerved and impressed by the exactness of this imitation. Fraud or not, this mysterious man had real skill in makeup and impersonation. “Who are you really?”
“Why I’m Lazarus of course! Didn’t you read the sign?” Beyond laughed at the annoyed look on L’s face, finally breaking his mimicry and lounging back in his patched armchair with a sigh, one leg thrown over the side. He stared for a moment then said with a flourish, “I’m a fan.” He twirled his fingers and produced a silver franc, letting it flip over his knuckles like the flow of water. “A performer like yourself, although not quite so famous. I’ve wanted to meet you for some time.” He tossed the coin high into the air, but it didn’t come down again.
“And now that you have, will you kindly get lost?” Even as L said the words, he wasn’t sure he meant them. Something about this man was fascinating. And where did that damned coin go? He looked up at the ceiling and saw nothing, and the man’s hands were both empty. “Cheap parlor trick. Open your mouth.” He didn’t want to admit he hadn’t seen the sleight of hand, even if he knew the coin must be there.
Beyond extended his tongue, revealing the coin sitting right on it. He spat it into a box containing a few more coins. “Very good. But of course I doubt I could stump the real Lazarus.”
The way those words were spoken sounded like a challenge to L, and he’d been here before. Countless other illusionists and street magicians had challenged him and become laughingstocks. “No, I doubt very much that you could.”
“Hmmm.” Beyond leaned forward, elbows on the table as he stared. “Would you give me the chance to try?” He kept his eyes on L but swiped his hand over the flames of the candelabra beside them, appearing to transfer one flame to his finger where it burned a moment before he blew it out.
“You dipped your nail in oil. It didn’t burn long enough to blacken it.” L raised an eyebrow when Beyond chuckled and nodded. “I hope you have better tricks than that.” He sincerely did hope that, because this was already more amusing than he’d expected, although his deadpan expression didn’t show it.
“Oh, I do. Such wonders as you’ve never seen before.” Beyond snapped his fingers, his nail aflame again, and he transferred the fire back to the dormant candle. “If I can’t stump you, I’ll ‘get lost’ and you’ll never hear from me again. Does that suit you? A little wager between magicians.”
“A wager?” L smiled for the first time since coming into this dismal hovel. “Just so you know, no one’s ever been able to stump me. I’ve seen it all.” He worried his lip with his thumb, unconsciously leaning forward, betraying his interest and excitement at a game. “Debunked them all and taken their tricks, improved them for my own.”
“You can’t take my tricks.” Beyond knew that for a fact. He was unique among all humans, if he was even human, in his abilities. “But I’d love to see you try.”
He traced his long fingernails over the battered table, watching L’s thumb brush back and forth across slightly parted lips and wishing to touch them. Yes, he was a ‘fan’ of Lazarus, but it was so much more than that. An obsession, a yearning to be Lazarus. It was so unfair that he, someone with real supernatural powers, should always be in the shadow of just a clever illusionist. Beyond had been L’s actual shadow for years, never making himself known as he followed in the wake of show after show. Trying to make enough money for cheap flophouses and tickets for every performance, hiding in the back of the balcony but watching with eyes where distance didn’t matter. And when there hadn’t been money, he’d stolen. When people had tried to hurt or rob him, he’d killed. Beyond had given everything for this one moment.
“You seem quite confident. In that case, what do you get if you manage to stump me?” L had zero expectations that anything like that could ever happen, but he wanted to be aware of the game’s rules.
Beyond pulled a deck of cards from his jacket and shuffled them in one hand, focusing on keeping his breathing slow and even as he held L’s gaze. Softly, “To be your apprentice.”
“My apprentice?” L laughed, letting his hands rest on top of his crouching knees. “Everyone knows I take no apprentices. I have no desire to train amateurs or tell my secrets.”
Beyond purred, “But do you desire to hear them? I can tell you secrets even you don’t know about yourself. Or ones you’ve desperately kept hidden from others.”
L was past being intrigued now, he was hooked. It didn’t help that the man’s languorous, cat-like body language was so very seductive, his gaze so intense. It was rare for L to find anyone with as much self-confidence as he had, and this man had a natural bravado that L had to work for on stage. In fact, the longer L looked, the more differences he noticed between them. The soft swell of muscles hidden beneath clothing slightly too large, hair of a silkier texture, eyes that were a pale blue instead of his own grey. He swallowed when his scrutiny was rewarded with a smirk. “I agree to your wager. But first, tell me your name.”
Beyond wet his lips and whispered, “No. But I’ll tell you yours.” He glanced down at the coin box seriously. “Pay the fee.”
L stared unblinking, unbelieving, but pulled out the same trick ‘gold’ coin he’d given the man in the street and taken back furtively.
When L tried to put it in the box, Beyond covered it with his hand. “No copper. The real thing.”
L’s eyes narrowed and he pulled his hand back, pocketing the trick coin and reluctantly flipping a real silver one into the box with a soft clink. He sighed, “So?”
Beyond smiled looked above L’s head once more, not that he hadn’t read these words a thousand times already. “L Lawliet. Although the pronunciation eludes me. Do you say it in the French way, mon cher?” He smiled and sounded it out a few ways, giving up with a little shrug.
L felt like his heart had stopped beating from the shock of what he’d heard. His mouth was agape, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. “How….” Absolutely no one knew his real name. He’d spent a small fortune to find it out himself, buried at the bottom of the rubble of the London workhouse for orphans he’d grown up in. His birth certificate, locked in a well-hidden safe at his house in Surrey, was the only document in existence with that name printed. That safe hadn’t been opened in 10 years.
“Ah! Are you stumped then?” Beyond eyed him greedily, breath coming quicker. He didn’t even need to declare he was right. He’d never been wrong, even when people tried to insist he was. The truth was always written on their faces.
“No! You…you must have hired a private investigator.” L’s brow knitted, because that didn’t make sense and he knew it. “Someone in London told you. ”
“Does it look like I have the funds to hire an investigator, Mr. Lawliet?” Beyond gestured around at the bleak surroundings. “But if you remain unconvinced….show me a picture of someone. I’ll tell you their name as well, and if they live.” Telling L the day he would die was something else he could do, but what a morbid way to start a partnership. Plus, L had plenty of life left and no reason to believe him. Inclining his head to the box, “Pay the fee.”
L let out a shaky breath and reached into his coat to produce a cheap locket. His mother had given it to him at the workhouse before she’d died of pneumonia, and it contained pictures of his parents. He pried it open and laid it on the table, flipping another silver coin into the box. “Tell me about them.”
Beyond pulled the locket across the table and stared at the pictures of the man and woman inside. These were no Russian nobles, no princes. They were plain, simply-dressed folk who looked older than their probable years and had no death dates above their heads. “Martha Briggs, maiden name. Henry Lawliet. Both deceased.” He lifted his eyes to L’s as he slid the locket back. “Sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.” His fingers briefly brushed L’s and lingered before pulling away. “Your parents.”
“Yes.” L picked up the locket in pinched fingers and carefully put it back in his jacket. He’d never known his mother’s maiden name but all the rest was correct, although he had no idea how. He went quiet as he considered what to do. It was a first, being unable to discern the trick, and all the possible scenarios that cycled through his mind were dismissed just as fast. Only one actual explanation remained but he was loathe to say it. How could it be that?
“Have I won then, Mr. Lawliet?” Beyond wasn’t sneering or gloating, but soft and sincere. He knew that all L had to do was refuse to keep his promise and all of this, everything he’d done to be in this room, would have been for nothing.
A long silence passed between them as they stared at one another across the table. “You have real magic.” L couldn’t keep the puzzlement off his face. He’d spent his whole life creating the illusion of magic in opulent ballrooms and the parlors of royalty, and had he finally found it buried in a rat hole? It was ironic and tragic that no one could tell the difference but him, but Lazarus. Who was the real fraud?
Beyond’s face crumpled, “Is that your answer then? Real magic?” No no no! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! He’d never believed that a skeptic like L, who knew so many tricks and manmade artifices, would choose the most improbable answer. Unfortunately, it was also correct.
“Yes. That is my answer.”
Beyond made an angry, frustrated sound and leaped up from his chair but stopped in his tracks, floundering. He wanted to run but where would he go? The majority of his adolescence and adulthood had been focused on L, following L, trying to get close to L and failing. Now that he finally had his chance, he’d failed. He turned away and clutched his hair, whispering, “Correct. You win. I’ll leave Paris tonight and you’ll never hear from me again.”
L hummed to himself, uncurling from his crouch and slowly stepped closer to the distraught man. “Are you joking?” He touched the man’s shoulder, gently turning him around so they faced each other. “Do you think I’d walk away from real magic? You’re a unicorn.” L smiled and brushed the man’s cheek, fingers trailing along his jaw. He’d never touched anything magical before and it thrilled him. “A unicorn that had to pretend to be a horse pretending to be a unicorn. But I can see it.”
The black kohl around Beyond’s eyes used to approximate L’s eyebags was smeared and running down his face, his blue eyes brighter for his tears. He gazed back at L in amazement, finally sniffling and giving him a little smile. “So does that make you a horse?” He leaned into L’s touch, eyes lidding and not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating now. “Or maybe just an ass.” Beyond’s eyes flew open as he realized what he’d said, but L was just laughing and nodding. “S-sorry, my mouth can run away with me and—”
“I’ve been called worse.” L’s fingertips traced along the man’s mouth, his heart hammering for a different reason. He wanted to know this magic, this man, and felt an electricity between them that only two of a kind could. “But I can’t call you ‘unicorn.’ What’s your name?”
“Beyond.” He whispered it reverently, closing his eyes and taking the chance to kiss L’s fingers at his lips. What did he have to lose now? His ‘trick’ was exposed. “Beyond Birthday. It’s a stupid name.”
L’s hand threaded into Beyond’s hair and the noise he was rewarded with made him shiver, made his pants uncomfortably tight. Was this feeling some kind of magic too? He’d never felt such a powerful attraction. “It’s a name that would look perfect next to mine on a poster.” Lazarus and Beyond….it had a certain ring to it. But you shouldn’t hide yourself under all this makeup.” He tentatively pressed closer, bending to kiss Beyond’s neck which tilted for him instinctively. “Hmm, we could work that into some good tricks, couldn’t we?” He pressed his hips against Beyond, smiling as he felt the man’s body jerk at the realization, the feeling. “Like swapping out coins, but…us.”
Beyond inhaled audibly, wrapping his arms around L’s body as he melted into this perfect dream. His idol, his everything, wanted him too? Accepted him? “But…” He quickly shrugged off his jacket when he felt L’s fingers start to unbutton his shirt. “…you said you don’t take apprentices.” He mentally cursed himself for not just shutting up. Why couldn’t he just enjoy this and not ruin everything?
L raised his head, “True, I don’t.” Before the stricken look on Beyond’s face could sink in, he added, “But I’d take a partner.” The voracious kiss that followed made L stumble back against the table edge with a grin, hidden pockets spilling their contents as their clothes were hastily pulled away. A trick wand clattered to the floor and bloomed into a rose, a crystal box of fireflies sprung open and let its luminescent prisoners flit about the room blinking.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.” Beyond kissed him deeply again, lifting L onto the table. His hands caressed L’s body like he was afraid the man might break open too, releasing doubts and regrets, second thoughts. “Years I’ve waited to talk to you.” Beyond made magic for others, magic never happened for him. But those doubts didn’t come even when L did open for him, parting his legs and wrapping them around his waist.
L laid back against the table to gaze up at Beyond, amazed that he’d ever thought they looked alike now that they were naked and the makeup had been largely kissed and rubbed away. “I’ve waited all my life for magic.” He smiled and pulled Beyond closer, finally really understanding what his audience had been paying to see. It wasn’t just entertainment or amusement or distraction from their lives. It was hope that even if what was in front of them was only a horse, there might be a unicorn out there somewhere. “The real thing.”
Title: Cuffing Season
Artist: Verity Scarlett (@thats-my-die-ary)
For: @givemeadeathnote
Prompt: L and light having trouble decorating a Christmas tree bc of the handcuffs and chain
Artist: @pensulliwen
For: @sayorimax
Prompt: L x Misa R18, foodplay and sweets, Misa in pretty gothic lacy lingerie.
Artist’s notes: In which Misa puts way too much effort into seducing L and regrets it. Loved the prompt!
Author: ikathemadhatter
For: translightyagami
Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami, L Lawliet, LawLight
Rating/Warnings: Mature
Prompt: Light sitting in L’s lap, not too spicy but warm
Author’s notes: I found this prompt rather intriguing enough for a fic… Hope you don’t mind a bit of japanese folklore and a fox God!Light in it!
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sandō: is the road approaching either a Shinto shrine or a Buddhist temple.
haiden: is the hall of worship or oratory. It is generally placed in front of the shrine’s main sanctuary (honden) and often built on a larger scale than the latter.
honden: is the most sacred building at a Shinto shrine, intended purely for the use of the enshrined kami, usually symbolized by a mirror or sometimes by a statue.
Long naked legs lazily danced over the ridge of the fence, the rim of the kimono gliding up the almond thighs at each step. To the right, an ordinary rows of clay-tiled roofs and the sandō, paved with flagstones, each one feebly bejeweled with a string of silver moonlight. To the left, darkness rose on tiptoes to gently peak at the youth in prime of enticing wilderness – the allure of wild camellias, bamboo fronds, oak trees and pine was the visitors’ reward. From the shadows of the green world floated the calls of the night, the smell of new leaves, the fluttery whispers of his companions and the cool, moist air of the mountain.
It was hard to imagine to ever leave the magic atmosphere of the shrine.
“Kami-sama!”
Light’s fluid movements halted as a tug at his tail forced him to turn around; with only half of his face enlightened by the moon, his curious expression wore a thick frightening mask in the back of his eyes. “What is it?” He asked in a bored tone, kneeling enough to watch the little fox in the eyes.
“An intruder is wandering around the haiden. It’s a human pup.” Tiny black eyes opened wide in terror; the little foxes of the shrine weren’t fond of children, especially the tourists’ ones. Noisy and disrespectful, unable to keep their dirty hands off. “The little thing didn’t care to cleanse his hands before stepping in and there’s no-one looking after him.”
“No-one?”
The little fox nodded frantically, ears flattening in the motion. “Yes. What do we do, Kami-sama?”
Light wouldn’t care about a child wandering alone in the shrine, but he had to assure it wasn’t a little thief looking for the treasures hidden in the main sanctuary. “Keep watch over the honden. I’m checking the entrance hall.” Knitted golden leaves waved in the bends of the kimono, kissed by a breath of wind as darkness engulfed the God’s figure.
Light’s floating form materialized over the purification fountain few moments later, ears tipping to catch any sound and auburn eyes scanning the tiled path few feet away from where he was standing. Perching atop the head of a fox guardian statue, he was about to move when a white flare seemed to be tottering in his direction. Squinting his eyes, Light recognized an infant face surrounded by a wild mop of black hair. The child, unsure of his footing, plopped down by one of the statue, a thumb pressed between his lips. Despite the rather innocent air, his deep black eyes scrutinized his surroundings with fervent curiosity, mumbling unintelligible words in-between deep breaths. “Four.”
A number was all Light heard, the hidden meaning apparently free of any menace. The child kept quietly nibbling his thumb and murmuring lullabies of numbers that were probably meant to offer some comfort; Light sensed anxiety swelling up and down within his little chest and saw burns on the child’s fingers and cheeks.
Something happened downtown, the fox God thought, quietly turning towards the mountains. Ruffles of satin smoothed the stoned surface of the fox’s head as he leaned down to graze at the pointy face. “Awake from your slumber, my dear friends! Descend into the valley and don’t indulge in the sweet chit-chat of the wild camellias; come back right away with the latest news from the human world.” Twirls of smoke came out of the stone and bent forward as if nodding quietly to Light’s soft whisper. Then it disappeared in the night, the last traces waltzed around the God and draped his shoulders like a thick misty fog; a faint smile tugged at his lips as he was ready to disappear as well, leaving alone the child. He didn’t seem to be a menace.
Light’s body was turning invisible to human eyes when suddenly his tail was harshly yanked off, followed by a stuttered “Five”. Cussing between his teeth, Light’s gaze fell behind him, his body half-away disappeared into the magic mirror. “What the…? Ow.” Big black eyes stared unblinking at him and the little hand grabbing a hold of his magnificent thick tail tugged a bit harsher. “Ouch. It hurts. Stop it.” The fox God’s admonishment didn’t deter the child, it indeed brightened a sparkle of scientific interest in the bottomless pit of his eyes. His thumb ran along the long, lustrous guard hairs, stroking up and down to savor the soft thickness on his fingertips. Light sighed through half-lidded eyes, the brim of his long lashes trembling as a pleasant warmth came from being petted gently. The limbs outside the magic mirror retreated and unfolded in a rustle of red satin; the portal closed as he elegantly pirouetted on himself, the long tail escaping the child’s grasp and weaving as a giant fan to shadow his figure. “Ah-ha. You haven’t asked for permission, little one.” A silver titter froze the child, who slowly backed up until his shoulders hit the stoned fox. “If you ask it gently, I’ll let you pet my tail once more.”
In response, the human kept looking at Light, unblinking. It was hard to tell what kind of emotion was crossing his impassive gaze, only a slight discomfort quirked his lips as he sucked at his right thumb. As Light noticed, the pad was bright red and a little droplet of blood seeped from a large cut. With soft footsteps and a warm smile, the God knelt in front of the child and held out a hand. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered, brushing a slither finger along the child’s wrist until it gave in and fell in his grasp. A spike of utter anxiety flared where his palm pressed against the scarred skin, though the child’s gaze was still firmly fixated on his.
“Would you like to see a little magic?” Light asked teasingly, leaning the free hand over the child’s hand. Even if he didn’t nod in any possible way, the God sensed the curiosity in those black eyes. Ah, all human pups are the same…
A swirl of red smoke stretched out like shadows from the fox God’s fingertips and latched around the child’s skin like a warm duvet. It dissolved in less than few seconds, leaving the skin smooth as if nothing happened to it. The same little magic was repeated on the other arm and on the child’s cheek, where a bleeding burn was hiding behind the curtain of spiky black hair.
“Does it feel better?” Light asked, chuckling as the kid’s already big eyes seemed like almost poking out in shock as he inspected his healed wounds.
The child didn’t panic -he had went through worse enough than that, even though he hadn’t still shared a word about what had happen to him. Well, he had been always a quiet child and even if behaving quite strangely sometimes, he had already witnessed bizarre events -first, the dread of his family house set ablaze, then this person with soft fox ears and tail… And now, this magic. Was he daydreaming?
Fourteen leaves on the left shoulder.
Counting helped him to calm down a little bit and even helped him manage to remember the good manners his mother taught him. “Thank you…” He muttered, the thumb back to his lips. “Fifth fox.”
“You can call me Light.” Light sat across the flagstone tiles, knees tucked behind him and the long tail waving softly. “What’s your name, little one?”
Thirty-one leaves on the front.
“L.” L felt quite tired despite being on the alert and registering any movement of the fox creature. He couldn’t tell what the other was up to when Light opened wide his arms and beckoned him to come closer; his mother used to do the same when he wanted to touch him in a more intimate way -which L allowed rarely, he disliked letting his guard off. The thought of his mother made him frown deeply; the last time he saw her, she was screaming something unintelligible from the kitchen while a heavy black smoke heated up the whole house. He didn’t know why but if she ever looked for a hug, he would likely give her one right away. What was that feeling…? Sadness?
“Come here, L. It’s everything okay.”
Unaware of the sudden tears running down his cheeks, L rose to his feet and wobbled towards Light, crawling in his lap and letting the fox creature gently tousling his hair with his long fingers. The God observed the child curling up in a ball against his chest, the thumb still between his lips. He wrapped his arms around him and cradled L back and forth, humming softly a lullaby.
Eventually the child drifted off, the small chest rising up and down between deep breaths. Light brushed a lock of black hair off his face, lingering on the shadows behind his closed eyes. Light despised human beings, but still felt pity for those innocent children whose purity would be inevitable stained by the poisoned heart of adulthood. And that poor child looked like he was already part of that vicious cycle…
“Kami-sama.” A disembodied voice came out of nowhere, breaking the quiet of the night. Light’s tail wiggled in response as his hands kept stroking the sleeping child. “An old mansion was ablaze and humans are trying to stop the flames. It wasn’t an accident, someone purposely caused the fire. The pines encircling the west side of the holy sandō said the culprit escaped and he’s now hiding in the forest.”
So it has to be this child’s house… He probably escaped during the fire.
“Did someone die in the fire?”
The voice waited to reply, waltzing between the uncommon interest coming from Light and the truth. “A male and a female human. A child is still missing.”
Cradling L in his arms, the fox God rose on tiptoes and walked towards the entrance hall of the honden. Expression hooded by brown locks, his lips were sealed in a thin line when he spoke again. “You said the culprit is hiding in the forest, right?” A menacing light flickered in his red eyes and when he turned towards the dark shadows of the woods, a smirk threatened his expression. “Keep an eye on this filthy human and warn me of their every movements. I’ll be right back once the golden hour ticks. Gather our brothers and sisters and meet me at the shrine when the time comes.”
It’s all I can do for you, little L.
“As you wish, Kami-sama.”
A bemused giggle followed those words.
The next morning L woke up curled on a cushion by the entrance hall of the shrine. Pacey voices and footsteps echoed all around him and as he sat in his usual crouch, squinting his eyes in the sunlight, he noticed a lot of persons bustling about the area. Medics carried a white sack away on a stretcher, policemen were busy asking questions and scribbling down on their notepads. No one noticed L was awake, only an old man who approached him in silence.
“L.” Watari, an old acquaintance of his parents, knelt in front of him and patted his head gently. “Are you okay?”
L nodded slowly, taking the old man’s hand. Still unaware the man who killed his parents was mysteriously found in a pool of blood by the entrance hall of the temple, completely disembodied as if some wild animals banquetted with his body.
“What time shall I pick you up, sir?”
The chauffeur opened the car back door, waiting for L to get out. The detective unfolded his long legs as he had been sitting in a crouch for the whole ride and slowly got out, hands in the pockets of his oversize jeans. “I’ll be coming back on my own. Thank you.”
The chauffeur nodded solemnly. “Good evening, sir.”
L watched the car turning around and disappearing in the direction of the artificial lights of the city. The view was almost surreal as he stood at the foot of the mountains, where old fashioned lanterns dimly illuminated the stone staircase. L looked up in the direction of the temple, a lonely shadow engulfed by the wild pines and the high peaks of the mountains as barrier; an unattainable fortress where only God dwelled. And where murders occurred.
L hadn’t came back to Japan since the day his family died in a fire. They lived in an old mansion by the foot of the mountains, or so Watari, the family’s friend who took care of him, told him. L’s memories of that dreadful day were rather garbled and sometimes he dreamed of weird entities whose identity was most likely the result of childish fantasies. He never thought to come back, until a detail seemed to be somehow connected with a case that picked his interest lately.
The man responsible of the murder of his family was found dead by the entrance hall of a temple. Completely disembodied as if some wild animal attacked him. It wouldn’t strike him until he was asked to investigate on a series of identical murders in Japan. Local people called it the rage of the fox God, since a dead body was found once a year in a horrible state by the temple. Same location, same time of the year.
The crisp air of the night made L shivered as he processed to climb up the stone staircase, still lost in his trail of thoughts. He had already observed the murder scene during the day after his arrival in Japan in the early morning. He had taken mental notes of the scene -where the corpse was found and if there was any sign of a weight dragged there by the blood traces, who was there in the last few hours before the murder. He was already given photographs of all the victims of the last years and the few clues ever found. There was no sign of fight, either the victims seemed to have been drugged. No human skin found on their bodies. However, the victims were connected by three factors: the location, the time of the year and the time of death. All those victims in fact died between 5 and 6 AM, when the sun warmed the dark blanket of the night.
As he found out, even the death of the man who killed his family followed that path.
L kicked out his shoes as he reached the top of the staircase, finally free to get rid of that awful social constriction. He felt much better walking barefoot, savoring the cool flagstones beneath his skin. A sense of déjà vu hit and sank just like he stepped in the temple for the first time that day; he couldn’t tell why but the fox statues seemed to be welcoming him, as if he was just an old friend coming for a visit. L somehow recalled a temple from his dreams… that temple, to be honest. In those dreams, he was still a child and someone was lulling him into sleep. It wasn’t none of his family’s voice, either Watari. It was… even if hard to believe, it was a fox. Most likely, a sort of fox God. Closing his eyes, L still felt the soft brown hair beneath his fingers and the smooth fabric of a satin kimono brushing against his cheek.
Was it really just a dream?
L had never been fond of stories of ghosts or Gods, but those memories never ceased to hunt him down. So when the case required his attention, despite its oddness, he felt like it called for him to open up the Pandora box of his past once again.
Light watched the intruder walking boldly in his holy temple as if allowed to do as he pleased. The human didn’t even cleanse his dirty hands, either he prayed the fox God as deserved; utterly detached, he wandered quietly around, curiously peaking at the stoned fox statues encircling the flagstone path. It was the same detective who was called to take care of the latest murder -as if human beings could really found out it was God’s will. Light’s will.
“Kami-sama…” A little fox perching on Light’s shoulder turned up their nose as they kept staring at the man. “Ow. Ow. Ow. How he dare-!”
L actually sat in his usual crouch, examining a statue with fervid curiosity. The wrapper of a lollipop was tossed aside with no respect of the holy place and he didn’t even motion to correct his misbehavior.
A flare of irritation narrowed Light’s eyes into red slits; he didn’t like the detective since when he saw him during the day, but he couldn’t at all forgive this outrageous action. Disgusting human!
“Too bad I can’t kill you.” He grinned to himself, floating over the human in his invisible form. “But this doesn’t stop me to scare you a little bit.”
He picked up the wrapper and threw it against L. The detective startled and immediately turned to see if there was anyone around. Light took advantage of the situation to pour a rain of pine-cones over the man, helped by the little foxes.
“What…?!” L jumped onto his feet, almost flailing and holding up his hands to defend himself from the sudden attack. When the last pine-cone fell at his feet, L’s muscles tensed up as he sensed someone was looking at him. Yet, his eyes only stared at the bottomless shadows of the forest running down the fence, unaware Light was right there in front of him. The fox God snickered, ready to pull another stunt to scare the detective, when a sudden shiver ran down his spine. Those deep black eyes and that emotionless expression reminded him of someone.
But who?
Light silently retreated, oblivious of his plans, and kept observing the man the whole night.
L came back the following night and this time he sat on the wooden floor of the honden, munching some candies. A lot of candies, by the endless number of wrappers tossed inelegantly on the floor. The sight only made Light quivering with anger, fingertips eager to snap that pale neck in a half. If only he could.
But when, still invisible to human eyes, he threw all the candies wrappers at L, the detective didn’t even flinch. He seemed like to be expecting that action. Even more strangely, his eyes looked exactly in the direction where Light was standing in all his indignation, as if he could see him.
“Fox…?” The detective whispered, drawling words with a deep frown as if the mere thought of speaking to a God was out of question to him. Light chuckled, waltzing around the man and blowing hot breath on his face. L blinked in surprise as something like a breath of wind caressed his forehead… But it wasn’t a windy night, indeed he was almost sure to smell something familiar… He still felt silly to think it could be the fox creature of his dreams. His logical mind couldn’t accept the idea of a supernatural identity, but still… If it wasn’t just a dream?
Light observed the human struggling with the uncertainty of being dealing with a ghost or some entity dwelling in the shrine. Well, L was almost close to the truth.
“You don’t want to show up, I suppose.”
The cold undertone didn’t fully cover the curiosity in the detective’s voice. Light kept toying with him, pulling the spiky hair and even smacked him in the head - L rather deserved it after throwing human garbage around nonchalantly.
On the other side, L was seriously debating his sanity -addressing a ghost and suddenly being harassed by the said one… was it the result of his insomnia?
“Damn!” Flailing as something invisible tugged harshly at his sleeve, his hand inadvertently grabbed… Air? Something invisible wiggled in his grasp and for a moment L thought he had gone mad for real. So, if it was a dream, why don’t play along? He yanked the whatever-it-was off, only receiving a loud yelp in response.
The tail was the fox’s weakest spot. And even in his invisible form, it could happen to be accidentally grabbed by a human being.
“Ow! Stop! Stop, you filthy human!”
The pain made Light lose control over his powers and the magic broke, turning him visible to human eyes. A sigh of relief followed as L stopped pulling his tail, though his hand was still firmly grasping the soft brown fur.
“What are you….?”
“What are you isn’t the best way to address a God, human.” Light snapped, relinquishing in a shot of evil glee as he drank in the surprised yet confused look crossing the detective’s face. Oh, of course he didn’t expect the ghost showed up for real!
“You’re real.” Long fingers uncurled to gently reach to touch the fox God’s cheek. “You weren’t just a dream, so…”
Light’s eyelids fluttered as he leaned in the caress, which felt way too familiar now that he lost himself into the man’s intense gaze. Finally he realized who that man was.
“You’re that child… L.”
Almost twenty years passed since the night a child was found wandering around the shrine and Light benevolently took care of him and avenged his family. Who knew that little one would become the detective asked to find out the culprit of the shrine’s murders? Life was quite bizarre sometimes.
“Yes.” L uttered in a daze, unable to think straight for a brief moment. It’s the same weird creature I saw when I was a child, after wandering for some miles alone in the woods. Unless it’s just a dream… But it feels so real. His fingers stroked the soft skin and slid up to rub right behind the fox’s ears. The motion gained a quite hilarious reaction from Light; his body stiffened as a soft flush colored his cheeks, despite the twitching of his ears. “You haven’t asked for permission!” He was enjoying the caress more than he wanted to show, despite shoving L’s hand away harshly. “As I see, you haven’t learnt some manners, human.”
“Light… Is this your name, isn’t it?” L ignored Light’s comment and hunched his shoulders forward, deep-set eyes sharply focused on the fox God’s features.
“You remember correctly.” As if a name gave a human the power over a God, Light would add. His eyelids fluttered enticingly as he pirouetted around the detective with faux curiosity. “So, what brings you here after so many years?”
L kept following Light with his gaze, unblinking. “As guardian God of the temple, you should know already what I’m going to ask you.” He stated matter-of-factly.
“Do I?” Light smiled teasingly. “Who tell you I’ll give you an answer?”
A faint smile curled L’s smile as he twirled a fox hair between his fingers. “Because what God would let humans disturb the quiet of their shrines?”
Light bit down his lower lip, almost pouting. Fair point. This human was smart, but still he couldn’t fool a God. “Correct. Humans can’t tame Gods.” And as he said so he disappeared in whirls of red smoke, chuckling.
He didn’t need to give L any answer, after all.
The following night, L came back to the temple and he sat on the wooden floor of the honden. Some candies, a thermos flask full of tea and two cups were placed besides him in utter silence.
Without a warning, Light appeared from the back of the honden, the long kimono swaying elegantly at each step. “An offer?” He asked in pleasant surprise when L handed him a cup of tea.
“Foxes moult once a year around April.” L begun, sipping his tea. “Do even fox Gods moult?”
The question almost startled Light, but he firmly managed to keep his expression blank. “It sounds like a fox hunter’s question.” He teased back. “What’s the point if a fox God does? I’d kill you if you tried to steal my precious fur. If this is your true question.”
L took another sip of tea, then munched on a candy as if stalling. But it was only a calculated pause. “A local legend tells that a fox God steals a human skin once a year during the moult to preserve his immortality. As reward he keeps protecting the human reign.“
Light snickered behind his cup. “So do you believe in fairy-tales, detective L?”
“I do believe that this is the only logical explanation for the series of weird deaths happened during the last fifty years. All the deaths have in common the location, the month of the year and the time of death… Even if I still wonder what kind of connection there is with the time of death. I wouldn’t like to admit the culprit is a supernatural entity as you are, but I found out traces of your fox hair on the last victim. The same traces had been found on other corpses, giving the impression it was just a wild animal… But it’s not.”
L talked as if anything could prove him wrong. Light was honestly impressed by how close he was to the truth and how easily he believed in what others would brush it off as a bedtime story. Yet, his serious expression bemused him and he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“And if it was the truth?” He inhaled sharply between his laughter, brushing away the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “Would you arrest a God?” The thought only made him laugh more. L didn’t object, simply stared at him with the same emotionless gaze he wore when he was a child.
“I guess this would be a problem.” He mumbled back.
Light shook his head and motioned to straddle the man’s lap. His long legs lasciviously wrapped around L’s waist as he leaned closer, hands pressed on his shoulders as he spoke into L’s ear. Magic seeped through his whole being to enchant the human who was trying to outsmart a God. Now I’ll demonstrate you why the victims never struggle, detective. “You really turned into an hilarious man, L. You make me crave for your skin.” His hips slowly rocked forward as he nuzzled the man’s neck, savoring the sudden tension of muscles with expert fingers. He massaged L’s arms slowly as he kept slowly pressing their bodies together. The detective tried to react but it was like his body was suddenly unable to respond properly, completely at the mercy of Light’s touch and voice. “I’ll tell you a secret, L… I killed those humans. Even the one who killed your family. You should thank me for that.” Light’s hands cupped the man’s face as he leaned forward, noses and foreheads touching and the faux promise of a kiss lingering between them. L took a deep breath as he tried to fight the magnetic force guiding him into a milky limbo where Light’s voice was everything he could hear; his hands were warm but heavy in the fox God’s grasp and he felt already the arousal thrusting beneath his jeans as Light kept stroking it in such a loving way. He couldn’t speak nor think straight, his body could only respond to the pleasant stimulation as if he was a puppet.
Was it how the God trapped his victims? Using charm and magic to make them surrender to him?
“Why?” L asked, closing his eyes in the weak attempt to fight the overwhelming sensation of warmth and abandonment, as if he was going to drift off at any time.
“What?” Light tilted the head aside and licked a droplet of sweat rolling down L’s forehead. Oh, this human was fighting his power… So unusual, yet intriguing. No-one ever tried to fight back. “Killing humans?”
“The killings and… Avenge… my family.”
The tips of Light’s ears twitched in response as he rested his chin on L’s shoulders, arms sliding around his waist. He felt the man’s arousal between his hips, warm and pulsing to be released of its constriction. Light couldn’t tell why, but he didn’t mind the feeling. “The legend is partially correct. I am allowed to kill once a year during the moult, when the sun rises.” The golden hour or so it was called. “Though the reason isn’t connected with divine immortality. I kill because humans never learn the lesson.” Light was so fond of the beauty of Creation, now rotten to the core due the seed of evil blossomed in the human race. He asked for the divine punishment, but other Gods weren’t keen on intervene, either they cared to stop humanity from falling apart. So he had to fight alone, to guide humans towards the virtuous path and get rid of the evil seed. “If God punish criminals, don’t you think humans will start behaving? It’s my own duty to teach them what’s bad and good, to protect them in my own way… It’s everything I alone can do.”
Melancholy veiled Light’s words as he spoke; he didn’t know why he was explaining himself to a human being who couldn’t understand the greatness of his actions.
“Killing isn’t always… the solution.” Somehow L could finally see clearer and didn’t feel his body as heavy as before. After a brief pause the detective wrapped his arms around Light and felt the God tensing up, as if caught off guard. “You could teach them through other ways.”
Light let L’s hands trailing up and down his back in a soothing caress, relaxing into the embrace. He stopped trying to enchant the human, though still he wasn’t aware why he consented that intimate touch in first place. Either why he was letting L speak up instead of erasing his memories of their encounters and disappearing in the dead of the night as he usual did. There was something in that human… Something he had already seen in those black eyes when L was still a child.
“You humans never listen.” The fox God sighed, looking back at L in the eyes. “And to answer your previous question… I killed the murderer of your family just because it was that kind of human I despise the most.”
You were trying to protect me, L thought absent-mindedly. He couldn’t even blame the fox God for his actions -as a God, he was allowed to do as he pleased. If he wanted to get rid of human race, no-one could stop him, even L. The detective was powerless in front of a true God. Yet… he understood how sad and angry Light was, given the increasing rate of criminality day by day. L had felt the same when he begun to work as a private detective, even though he was aware he wasn’t a good example of human being as well. Passable, maybe.
“What if I helped you?” The detective asked almost on a whim, though his offer sounded rather serious. He felt completely back to himself now that Light had stopped to enchant him.
On the other side, the God raised an eyebrow and burst in a silver titter. “You’re a very funny human, L.” He mocked, despite the touch of softness in his gaze. He curled up against L’s chest, guiding one of the man’s hand up to his ears. “So funny that I allow you to pet me. Gently, please.” He hummed softly as long pale fingers kindly brushed his hair and tentatively scratched behind his ears. The strokes sent a pleasant sensation down his spine as L cradled him in his lap just like Light did years ago. The God didn’t remember when it was the last time he had let himself indulge in trusting a human touch. Even if just for one night, Light allowed himself to feel the warmth swelling up in his chest and those hands to caress his body.
That night he didn’t give L a proper answer. Humans and Gods wouldn’t ever cooperate, but Light somehow accepted the strong ideals and offer of this singular human being. If L came back again and offered his help, Light would simply make fun of him and demand attention as he did now. It somehow soothed the delusional state he drifted from time to time when thinking about how hard it was to fight alone when other Gods lazily watched Earth from their holy seats without moving a finger.
Things wouldn’t ever change - Light would keep teaching humans morality and virtue, no matter how hard it was.
If children like L kept existing, he thought watching the golden hour lazily hugged to L, it was worth it.
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