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March 3rd, 2005

This morning with five minutes left before I had to be out of the house I slipped down a few stairs in my house while holding a glass of orange juice and spilled it all over myself, my clothes, the wall, and the carpet. It seemed to have been an omen for the entire day. No, my day was not juicy nor sticky. Instead, it was damned pulpy.

Anyway.

Hem hem. Here be very random, very odd, very "I'm trying to get something across that probably won't get across at all", very Death Note fic.

What do you need to know before you click this cut-tag? 1. I do not own Death Note. Not its characters nor its plot nor the bags under L's eyes. 2. This is Ryuuku/Raito...or as close as I can get without breaking my own brain. 3. Raito is a sick, sick freak. <3

Control. 800+ words of the special love a boy can only share with his personal shinigamiCollapse )

Now I have to go about seeing if I can write L/Raito/Misa because if ever there was a cracktastic OT3 to beat the rest down this one would be it. Or someone else could write it--a course of action I would *more* than approve of.

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