Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme
Welcome to the Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme!
How it works:
* Comment anonymously with a kinkfic request. All requests must contain a character or pairing/threesome/moresome (any combination of guys/girls/shinigami/whatever are OK, crossovers are fine too), and at least one kink. If you need inspiration, check out this huge list of kinks by eliade. ( Read more... )
How it works:
* Comment anonymously with a kinkfic request. All requests must contain a character or pairing/threesome/moresome (any combination of guys/girls/shinigami/whatever are OK, crossovers are fine too), and at least one kink. If you need inspiration, check out this huge list of kinks by eliade. ( Read more... )
He was taller than most humans, far taller than he had been. His eyes were red now, bright and shining and his hair was longer that it once had been. His teeth curved in his mouth, smooth and more rounded than any teeth that actually had to eat would be. Great wings arced from his shoulder blades, raggedly feathered with deep red-black feathers, rather like drying blood. He was no longer dressed in smart suits but dark rags that draped over his body. And his fingers were longer, unnaturally long and if he laid them on Matsuda’s hand, they covered him from fingertip to wrist with small, pointed nails on the end.
But apart from that, he was Raito. Still Raito Yagami. Still beautiful and convincing and entrancing as he’d ever been.
“I didn’t think it would be you,” he said when he found Matsuda staring blankly at the notebook that he’d picked up off the street. “Never you.”
----
“You look so sad, Matsuda-san,” he murmured against Matsuda’s hair the next day as Matsuda tried to concentrate on his paperwork. “Bereft. Lonely.”
“I’m fine,” Matsuda mumbled. “I’m fine.”
He’d kept going through life. Work. Home. Socialising with his workmates sometimes. Visiting his family. Nothing had changed. Except perhaps, himself. He felt so empty all the time now. As though everything around him was covered with a grey film and he couldn’t actually reach through it to touch the world. Nothing mattered any longer. He watched the people around him and wondered why they bothered. Why they bothered having romances, pretending to connect with people. No one ever told you the truth about themselves. Everyone lied, endless lies about who they were and what they wanted. It was pointless even trying any more so he didn’t.
It was only that sometimes he felt like something had died inside him.
----
“The world was rotten,” Raito said. “I only wanted to make it better. I only wanted to make everyone happier. Are you happy, Matsuda-san?”
“I’m fine. Everything’s just fine.”
“You seem unhappy.”
“I’m not. Really,” he said dully. “Why would I be unhappy?”
Raito shrugged and stretched his wings and Matsuda felt an odd desire to touch them, to stroke the silky-looking feathers. He swallowed and looked away.
“You can just give the notebook back,” Raito said quietly. “It doesn’t matter one way or another.”
Matsuda knew he ought to just give Raito the notebook back. Ought to just burn it so Raito couldn’t give it to someone else. But he didn’t. He kept it with him, opened it and turned the grainy pages, looking at all the blank lines, waiting for the marks of a pen to cover them. Raito watched him silently, for the most part. He hadn’t asked. He wouldn’t ask. He simply waited.
----
“You look so lonely, Matsuda-san. Let me come into bed with you.”
He lay slightly awkwardly behind Matsuda, his arm curved over Matsuda’s waist, one of his wings gently covering Matsuda like a blanket. The feathers were soft and Raito still breathed, soft, warm breath over Matsuda’s neck. For the first time in so, so long, Matsuda wasn’t alone.
----
“I can’t do it,” he whispered as he sat at his desk. “You know I can’t. I’m a coward, I’m pathetic. Pathetic Matsuda, the joke, the jester, the child. I can’t do it.”
The soft touch of feathers on his cheek. Why did it have to make him shiver so?
“You can do anything. I believe in you, Matsuda-san. You can do anything that you want.”
“It’s wrong,” he whimpered, fumbling with the pen. “It’s so wrong … ”
Raito didn’t say anything. He never said anything. Feathers stroked against Matsuda’s skin again. The touch was unbelievably lovely and Matsuda gave a soft sigh and leaned back. This time, those abnormally long fingers ran delicately through his hair, smoothing it back from his face. He looked up and Raito smiled.
Matsuda felt his stomach flutter. It wasn’t unpleasant.
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