Red and Blue (a Death Note Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:
A/N: Hi there, I'm called Seth's Kiss. Any advice within your reviews is, as always, warmly welcomed and, as usual, if this fic offends you, here's my lovely advice: Don't read. There are plenty other fics out there that ought to suit your liking. Thank you for your consideration.
Warnings: This fanfiction is rated M, for good reason (abuse and non-con in the whole fic): if you read any of my other fics, you'll surely notice that 'fluff' is not my forte, especially not when angst is so palpable between characters... Again, if these themes or anything else doesn't appeal to you, either because it offends you or you are still underage: Do not read...
Disclaimer: I do not and will never own Death Note or any of its characters, they belong to Tsugumi Ohba (the author) and to Takeshi Obata (the illustrator); I do own everything else (such as the ideas used to create this plot). I'd also like to apologize beforehand if any of the characters are in any way O.O.C, so let me know when you believe they are: I mean, I'll try as hard as I can to keep them in character, but I tend to let my writing take over my imagination at times...
Summary: Set after the whole ordeal of the 28th Episode of the series: Light just lost a Death Note to Mello and he REALLY needs to vent out his anger. Good thing there's Misa... Dark fic. Warning: Abuse and Non-con. Rated for a reason. Proceed with caution.
Plot (+ Spoilers): This is a rather detailed one-shot: If you've seen the series and saw the 28th episode, do you remember that scene where Light is reclined in his chair, staring at the ceiling and looking utterly defeated, and then Misa nears him with a glass but he just disdainfully sends it to the floor? And I was like: what if Light did more than that and took it all out on poor Misa? The fanfic was inspired by that moment and actually follows that very nasty thought. I mean, he usually controls himself in front of others but as the series progress, he gets worse - for lack of a better term - and he fully loses all 'chivalry' when it comes to Misa, especially now that Rem is gone (oh dear me, Rem is my number one Death Note character (Rem's fondness of Misa is beyond words, especially coming from a being capable of death only)). While it isn't like me to criticize or bash on characters, even if I deeply dislike/hate them, I'm more prone to pain infliction both physical and emotional (example: Byakuya Kuchiki (from Bleach); see my fic: the Fallen series...if you aren't averse to violence, horror and non-con that is) or sarcasm and mockery (I really don't like Light, like at all, and as for Misa, I'm pretty much neutral, no hating or loving when it comes to her). I do know that Light-lovers might not like the way he is portrayed in this fic nor will Misa-fans like how she is treated... The title was quite hard to determine though (I hesitated for awhile, long after I completed this): it's a play on the phrase 'black and blue' which is also the title of the song I happened to be listening to when writing the end of this fic (Black and Blue, by Long Hawk). Slightly fitting in my opinion. Enjoy reading and please review, which would be nice of you...
The glass gets knocked to the ground, shattering to pieces and letting its contents stain the floor at Misa's black high-heeled shoes.
Wide startled eyes of a vivid blue (1) - her eyes today were blue - stare at the fuming Light before her, still not even bothering to grace the girl he had promised to love a single glance.
As he suddenly got up and swiftly moved away, he viciously grabbed her and tugged her along with him, his grip far too firm to break and hard enough to bruise her delicate skin.
As she hurriedly stumbled after him to lessen the ache blossoming in her wrist, Misa glanced over to where Ryuk stood, sending the male shinigami a silent plea echoing from within her wide alarmed orbs, but the shinigami merely shook his head before disappearing through a wall, making her calm down slightly: Light wasn't going to kill her...at least not tonight.
And besides even if he was, Ryuk wouldn't be the one end his own life to save hers. Biting her lower lip, Misa wanted to cry: she missed Rem. More than she would have ever thought.
Forcefully, he makes her ascend the stairs, heading for to the room up floor, her room: they shared the same room, but though Light did use it, he never slept in it, saying he'd rather be near his work, no matter how much Misa pleaded with him.
Opening the door in with a brusque gesture, he threw her in first - ah, what was that expression again: ladies first? - making her drop to the ground, barely able to catch herself and yet unable to stop her stumble and fall, whilst he shut the door behind them, dimming the room once more.
None of the lamps in the room worked: they were all broken. To bits and pieces. Misa had done that herself in a fit of rage earlier in the day, somewhere around morning...only, at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to focus in order to fully recall why she had done that. Turns out it wasn't just Light who had problems keeping his emotions in check. Acting out on them thoughtlessly, carelessly, recklessly...
Though the room stayed badly lit, leaving the occupants mostly unable to see clearly if weren't for the pale moonlight peering in through the curtain-free windows, Misa could still see Light and, judging by the way he was staring right back at her, regarding her darkly with those brown eyes of his gone gleaming crimson red again, so could he.
With a cold calculating grim glimmer in those eyes, he took a slow step towards her and then another, then another, and with every step taken that brought him nearer, she would draw away, crawling backwards, dragging herself away from him, as much as she could, as far as she could...until her back hit the lower edge of the bed.
Her shaken eyes widen a fraction further: this was as far as she could run. And he knew that.
Lunging for her as she feebly scooted sideways, Light seized her violently, grabbing what he could acquire a hold on whilst she struggled to escape his hands, to very little, albeit no avail.
With a hand firmly gripping at her forearm and the other twisting viciously in her sun blonde hair, he harshly hoisted her upwards, up to her feet, causing her to let out a cry. It halted mid-way in throat as her cheek abruptly throbbed hotly, a faint stinging sensation adjoining in its wake: Light had just slapped her. On the face. Hard. She had been hit by him before...but never on the face.
Far too shocked to feel any anger - for mind you, a celebrity takes immense pride in her face, so being hit was worthy of a death penalty in her eyes, were the perpetrator anyone else but Light that is - she stopped resisting all together, promptly leading him to take advantage of that. Hand still knotted forcefully in her hair, he flung her onto the bed, making her slightly bounce a little upon impact, before she laid there, cradling her cheek and gradually curling in on herself.
She was stopped from completely doing so when he tightly grabbed at one of her ankles and harshly pulled her towards him, nearer to the far edge of the bed.
Shaking her head, Misa began resisting again and started kicking her legs, but he was quicker than her, catching the other ankle firmly, before keeping a rigid grip on both of her limbs and raising them high in the air until she eventually gave up, the position she was now in far too painful to put any further pressure on herself: she was now with her back hovering over the bed whilst her arms were trying to keep her head steady as to not have her neck snap.
In short, she was utterly helpless. Just like whenever she was in Light's oh-so-capable hands...
Going limp and giving the other a meek look that notified him of her surrender, she gave out yet another a cry, this time of startled surprise, when he instantly let her go of her legs, causing them to drop to floor, the action too sudden for her to hold herself up and her back came slamming back on the bed, harshly cutting her breath off.
Coughing and spluttering at the abrupt blow, Misa squirmed as she sought a more comfortable position whilst eyeing Light warily, before her breath once again caught itself in her throat: he had shed his black long-sleeved top, carelessly letting it hit the ground, revealing his youthful muscled glory to her.
This was the first time she had seen any part of him - other than his face, hands and feet - bare. And it would have been a dream come true...were it not for how this all was occurring at this very moment...
"Take them off" he commands suddenly, in a voice that left absolutely no room to discussion and promised unrelenting agony if ever ignored or refused.
Only, as she wasn't expecting him to talk, she had a hard time grasping what his order fully entailed, leading her to eye him in sheer and utter confusion amidst the fear of guessing where all this was going. Frowning in displeasure at the ludicrously bewildered look he was receiving, he slowly repeated himself through heatedly clenched teeth, with a little more elucidation as if he were communicating with an idiot: "Your clothes. Take. Them. Off."
Not daring to defy him anymore than she already did, nor wanting to draw anymore anger from him than the one he already harboured, Misa hastened herself to sit up and comply with his demand but she was instantly halted in her movements and forcefully pushed back onto the bed, his hand set square and firmly upon her shoulder. Tilting her head faintly to the side, she lifts her eyes questioningly at him, the inquiry within them as clear as day, but he doesn't clarify anything for her this time nor does he retrieve his hand, merely keeping their eyes locked together: it was naive blue against lethal red.
It took a moment for her to register what Light wanted from her: he wished to see undress and struggle to accomplish it, probably for his own sadistic entertainment. It was just so like him, to watch others putting great effort into achieving the unachievable, the impossible...and then either fail in the end or succeed, but with the latter came gruesome darkness - of any kind really - that never washed away (2).
Gently shifting as she pondered on how to do this, Misa shakily set her hand over Light's, the one keeping her stapled to the bed, and tentatively patted it slowly, making him pull back and, standing tall, cross his arms against his bare chest, before he leisurely raised an eyebrow at her, waiting expectantly but not with patience.
Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she lets her right hand dance slightly in the air, inching it over to her left sleeve before slowly pulling on it, until she managed to liberate her arm, before repeating the motion for the right one, now completely free of her grey long-sleeved top that rested now at her hips, leaving her in her black-laced bodice which faithfully laid underneath it.
Still with her eyes closed, only this time she was furrowing her brow a little and biting at her lower red-dyed lip, she then gingerly takes hold of her belt, unbuckling it and ridding herself of it. Startling when she hears the belt buckle thud to the floor, her eyes snap open before she glanced to the side, noticing that she had accidently let it fall over the other part of the bed.
"Don't stop" rang out Light's voice, abrupt and commanding, low and threatening, making Misa shiver at the tone, before she peeked at him warily from under her long blonde lashes. In different circumstances, she would probably, most certainly, have liked what she saw: he was staring at her, through half-lidded eyes, brown eyes - they were brown again, the wrathful deadly killer intent of the slayer he was momentarily dissipated - which were imbued with lust, with hunger, with the need to devour. In retrospect, she would have actually been flattered, honoured, ecstatic, euphoric, to receive such a stare, especially coming from Light of all people. Right now, it scared and sickened her at the same time. She was scared of him, but not sickened by him. No, never by him: it was the fact that she knew that he would never see her the way she saw him...that sickened her... He would never love her like she loved him.
Hastily reminding herself that he had given her yet another order and so far she was not carrying it out, Misa closed her eyes once more - though this time, it was to block out his ravenous stare, slowly shimmering to red again - and began to unbutton her garnet-coloured slim jeans. Once that was done, with greater difficulty than it had been for her top, she wrestled to get it off her, whilst trying very hard not to let her body depart or lift from the bed.
After eventually making it and ridding herself of her top on the way, she kicked off her shoes, one after the other before coming to a sudden stop in her movements: Light had asked her to remove her clothes, not her underwear. So she didn't go any further, remaining in her black bodice, with matching black laced panties, and greyish stockings, whilst keeping her eyes shut and staying unmoving upon the bed, her breath uneven and her heartbeat sporadic with trepidation.
It turned out that she was right: Light wanted her just the way she was now.
Brusquely tapping her thigh once which led her to open her eyes to him, he motioned for her to back up, further upwards on the bed, and she was quick to obey, sitting up before crawling on forward until she reached the pillows.
Misa was about to turn around in order to lie down on her back for him, only he didn't let her. Following close behind her, he once again took hold her hair before harshly flinging her head forward, burying, and thus smothering, her face first within the mountain of pillows.
Panicking for breath, she tried to break free, clawing at the sheets with red painted nails as she attempted to find a way to back get up, but Light's hold on her was too strong, effortlessly pinning her down, one hand still in her hair and a knee right within the centre of her back. With his free hand, he began to brutally pinch, here and there, at Misa's unblemished bare skin: it was far too plain for him. Too perfect. Too pure. It needed a little more colour to his eyes. So that was exactly what he was doing.
Slowly lessening the pressure on her head so she could turn it to the side and inhale greedily, desperately, having grazed a blackout, he carried on with his rough and callous ministrations, sometimes using but his fingers to twist harshly at the skin at a given place, sometimes also digging his nails in sharply to add more pain and colour.
Misa could only bite her lip hard, forcing herself to silence. She was used to this treatment. This one. Where Light would ruin her flawless body. Out of anger. Hit her. Bruise her. Make her bleed. The first time this had happened - ironically enough it was right after Rem's death, not even a few hours later - she had been about to let out a scream of dread and agony but found herself unable to when he had ominously threatened her that he didn't want to hear a word or sound from her. Not until he allowed. She hadn't dared defied that command and has never let out a sound since. Not until he allowed it anyway.
Though used to this pain, this abuse, she still found the whole situation odd however because he had never asked her to undress to this extent. What else was she in for tonight?
He continued tainting her skin for awhile to his satisfaction before he finally retrieved his hands and his face adorned itself with a dark smirk as he proudly eyed his handiwork, his art: neck, arms, back, legs...all now a patchwork of bruising black and blue upon white, red streaks left by his nails trailing around here and there. Now that she was marred, soiled, he would even go as far as to admit that she was beautiful. Not that he would ever say that out loud. But her in pain, was undeniably lovely to him...
Abruptly flipped over so she was now facing Light, she cringed silently at the excruciating burn and hurt her back was in, in addition to the fact that the bed sheets were now scratching at her raw skin only made it worse.
He sets his weight upon her, making it slightly unbelievable that he was younger than her, and glues her to the bed, his hands firmly on her shoulders and his legs settles between her own. Leaning in to breathe against her neck, he sinks his teeth there, like a vampire would, biting down hard, slowly drawing blood, whilst one of his hands trails a pathway downwards, down low, to grab hold of her panties and rip them off of her in one swift movement, whereas Misa remained stock still and silent, like a ragdoll would.
Drawing back and giving a couple of licks to the bite he had inflicted, Light unzipped his beige trousers and released himself, whilst she quickly averted her eyes: she couldn't look...
Pinning roughly her hips to the bed, he breaks into her, without preparation, without warning, without stopping, without consideration, and she instantly claps both hands to her mouth as to muffle her upcoming scream, remembering that he wanted her silent...Always silent.
As she struggled to adjust to the excruciating intrusion and to the agonizing shock of it all, he began a slow steady pace: in and out, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, rougher and rougher.
He suddenly hisses as she digs her sharp red manicured nails deep within back, breaking into his skin, trying to reign in her suffering. In retaliation, he seizes her wrists in his cruel grip, clutching them separately in his each of his larger, stronger hands and pinning them to the bed, not once letting go of his pace.
As a young girl hopelessly in love ever since she met him, she dreamt of one day being with Light...but not like this, never like this: this was violent unrequited intimacy, this was a loveless union...this was sheer, brutal agony...
Whilst she endures his cruel invasion with his head buried in the crook of her neck, Light pants as he thrusts into her, whispering to her: "Now. Say it."
She swallows hard, she knows the words but cannot say them, not like this: "L...Light."
"I said, say it."
Biting her lip and closing her eyes, she breathes out softly: "Black and blue...I'd crawl to you."
Her blue eyes flutter open slowly, leading her to realize that at some point she had passed out. Slowly looking around, she finds herself alone, in the dark, sprawled upon the sheets, and she felt instantly dirty, a chilling cold hand gripping at her soul.
It was actually worse than whole ordeal itself: she had been used and was now vulgarly discarded, casually ignored, left alone...Without a word. She wasn't expecting words of comfort - no, she wouldn't get those from Light - but she was hoping to hear something, anything. But Light was Kira and Kira, she was fully, entirely devoted to...and that's really all that mattered. That was the only thing that mattered.
The End
(1) I think actually that her eyes were brown in that episode but since Light's are brown as well, it would have made it all confusing...for me at least. Sorry for that.
(2) This part has a double meaning and is not specifically targeted at Misa alone.
A/N: Like I said: dark. I always thought that these two have an incredibly deleterious relationship (in my opinion, it's the worst I've seen so far): Misa is blindly, unconditionally in love with Light and would die and kill for him, whilst Light is just interested in her Shinigami eyes, exploiting her devotion to its maximum. Even worse, she knows that he is just using her. Retrospectively, I really believe that Light x Misa looks a lot like Joker x Harley: unhealthy.
Forgive my rambling, I merely wished to point this out.
I hope you enjoyed reading and if you liked it, feel free to check out my other fics (if you can stomach them: my writing is pretty dark). Thank you for reading. Bye!