#death note comfort

[sanb3rry]

hi sann ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა! feeling diabolical, was wondering if you'd be willing to write a ryuk x reader fic where the reader is also obsessed with apples ᡣ𐭩

halloo !!! first ryuk ask ever so i hope i did him justice,,, feel as diabolical as you want as you will be fed !!!!!

you were on the way to the kitchen, excited to get a little snack for the afternoon. a little skip in your steps here and there, it was clear you were cheery as ever.

as you entered, you noticed the shinigami that was living in your house, rent-free (you weren't complaining tho, he was fun to have around), munching on something. a closer inspection will make your very short-lived investigation reach to an end, like anyone with basic knowledge of a shinigami or living with one in your case would know ryuk was one hundred percent eating your apples.

....he was eating your apples? without leaving you any? you will send him back to purgatory and make him regret stepping foot on earth.

"ryuk...have you eaten all of my apples...?" you asked, maintaining your patience. you are a nice person, yes, you are helping light with his plan to make a new world, but you're a nice person.

the shinigami turns around, slowly. "i saved you 5 and a half." he said, you were surprised he even bothered but more than grateful.

you grinned at him, and took an apple. "i'm about to blow your mind." you said, ominously. you took a knife and began cutting the apple slices into apple bunnies.

"tada!" you said as you held one infront of his face.

"a bunny? you humans really are interesting creatures." he observed, you hummed as you fed him a slice before eating one yourself.

"makes them taste better." you smiled, ryuk had decided that he would make you cut most of apples from now on.

© sanb3rry2024

[jumexju]

LAVENDER KISS

Pairing !! : L / Reader

Fic Type !! : Comfort / Fluff / Oneshot

CW !! : Mentions of depression (PDD), severe depressive episodes to the point of it being debilitating, reader is described to have curly hair

Summary !! : L is surprisingly good at taking care of you.

Note !! : This is highly self indulgent.

✦ MASTERLIST

There were times when you weren’t alright. Times in which the nights felt better than days, the isolation of your apartment better than socializing with people & when the cold breeze felt better than the warm rays of sun on your skin. It wasn't that you preferred to feel so.. empty. No one truly wants that for themselves. But nonetheless, it was something you’d dealt with since your adolescence. You couldn't control it.. Or maybe you’d just given up. In a way, it’d become a comfort to you. A sort of warm blanket that was forcibly wrapped around you every few weeks.  

You always knew when a specifically bad episode was about to happen. 

You started off your day with a cup of coffee. Or, well, you would have if you hadn’t had trouble getting out of bed in the first place. You peeled the blanket off of your skin, exposing yourself to, what you felt, was the biting cold of your apartment. Trudging through your empty, dimly-lit apartment, you tiredly brushed your teeth and made yourself a cup of coffee afterwards. You didn’t even drink half of it before deciding to go back to bed. Maybe if you slept through it, it’d get better. 

But you knew better than to lie to yourself. 

It was 8 PM when you awoke to the sounds of the door opening. Your brows furrowed as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You hadn’t invited anyone over.. And you were the only one with a key to your apartment besides.. Oh. You got up from your bed and walked to where you heard the sounds of his presence. Leaning on the wall, you smiled a little as you gazed upon his hunched frame. He was still taller than you despite his posture, which he found to be amusing. 

“Did you solve the case?” Your soothing voice ricocheted off the walls of your apartment. The soft sounds pleasing to his ears. He wasn’t an emotional man but he could admit that he missed you. Though.. You looked more tired than you usually did. He wondered why that was. 

“Yes.. It was particularly easy unfortunately. Did I come at a bad time?” His calm tone brought you a sense of comfort. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too.  

“No, no.. I was just sleeping but,” you chuckled nervously as you yawned, “I’ve basically slept the whole day away, So..” His wide eyes narrowed at your seemingly worn-out figure. Were you not sleeping enough? 

“Are you okay?” He was never the type to sugarcoat things. 

But then again, neither were you. “No, ..I’m depressed.” You reluctantly admitted it but you knew he wouldn’t judge you. He dealt with it too.. Maybe that’s why you two worked so well together. 

You didn’t know how — or when — he’d gotten so close, but you weren’t fighting it. In fact, you desperately wanted his warmth. The feeling of knowing that someone knew what you were going through and validated you was priceless. You appreciated him greatly, you just hoped he knew it too. L wrapped his arms around your neck in a comforting gesture, you inhaled the scent of lavender that he carried as you brought your arms up and hugged him back. Whenever you two hugged, it was never just a hug. It felt like nothing else mattered when he had his arms around you, in the same way, everything melted away whenever he had you in his arms. Though he could never express his feelings clearly, he knew that you would understand. You always did. 

“Have you showered yet?” He asked you as he played with your frizzy curls. You hadn’t had the energy to shower in a week.. It was embarrassing and you felt guilty about it. But whenever you thought about showering, all you could do was sigh. It all felt like a huge chore to do. Especially with your curly hair, just thinking about the sectioning, the detangling, the creams, the diffusing.. Lord. You just didn't want to think about it. You didn’t want to lie to him — he would find out the truth anyway — so you shamefully nodded. 

“That’s ok. I’ll start a warm bath for you.” L usually didn’t spend his time doing such trivial things, he was the World's Greatest Detective after all! He should be solving cases and serving justice, yet instead he was here. With you. Taking care of you. 

You couldn’t be more grateful for him. 

“..Thank you.” You meekly said as you looked up at him, his softened dark eyes gazing at you. He didn’t say anything else, just gave you a kiss on your forehead and told you to go get your towel while he started the bath. 

The sound of your soft humming matched the quiet jazz that played in the background as you let L detangle your hair for you after he divided it into sections. He was familiar with the routine both because he had seen you do it multiple times and because he did his own research on it. Unsurprisingly, he was great at it. His pale fingers were meticulously gentle as they worked to get the tangles out of your hair. 

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” He carefully asked as he unclipped another section of hair and began detangling it. 

“No, you’re good.” You smiled to yourself as you felt him take his time combing through your curls. “You’re actually really good at this y’know.. Thank you.” 

He smiled a little, “Your hair smells nice.” 

“Yeah? It smells like you.” You played around with the water, your knees pressed up against your chest as he took care of you. 

“I have a smell?” He snickered. 

You watched as the water from your hands poured back into the body of water in the tub, “Yeah. Lavender.” 

“Did you know that lavender soothes anxiety and depression?” 

You chuckled, “I didn’t know that,” You turned to look at him, “Is that why you wear it?” 

“Mmm.. No, it’s just a benefit.” He planted a kiss on your nose, you scrunched it in reaction to it before turning your back to him again. 

“Either way, I like how it smells. It reminds me of you.” L smiled as he heard your words. 

“Are you feeling better?” 

You nodded lightly, “Now that you’re here, yeah.” 

After shampooing and conditioning your hair, he helped you scrub your body to get you all clean. It was the first time he’d ever seen you naked, but it didn’t feel sexual at all. He didn’t make comments on your body or make you feel awkward in any way — in fact he made you feel seen. 

And not at all in a bad way.  

That was when you realized the difference between a man that respected you and a man that only saw you as an object. He loved you and he’d shown it many times, but he was still respectful of you — even after 2 years. Hell, he still asked if it was alright when he kissed you. 

It was one of the things that you loved about him. 

He wrapped your towel around you and helped you dry off. “These are the creams you use, right?” He asked as he took out two containers & a bottle of light-weight liquid gel. 

“Yeah, this one, too.” You handed him the bottle of mousse and continued to dry yourself off. He took the lid off of the containers and began to work his magic after sectioning your hair off again to make sure that the product was evenly spread throughout your hair. His gentle hands wasted no time in getting themselves sticky with cream as he did your hair for you, maybe acts of service was one of his love languages? 

You didn’t know, all you knew was that it was strangely domestic for the two of you to be doing this. But it wasn’t unwelcomed. It was a simple gesture, him helping you shower and do your hair.. It was simple. Maybe.. “..Why are you doing all of this for me?” 

“..Does there need to be a reason?” He was rather quick with his response. But you knew that L never did anything without a reason, hardly any of his actions were without one. You decided to tell him so. “You’re telling me there wasn’t a reason..? You just wanted to help?” You sounded surprised. And rightly so. 

Because L didn’t do trivial things like this, you noted again. L didn’t just visit his lover just to have to take care of them. L wouldn't go this far for his partner.

But.. “Is that unreasonable?” he asked you. “I empathize with your situation.. And you’re dear to me, I do not want to see you experience it by yourself.” ..Maybe he really did do trivial things like this.. Or maybe they weren’t so trivial to him in the first place. 

“..Oh.” you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You never would have believed that he’d do this if he wasn’t behind you doing just that. 

“Have you eaten?” He asked as the soft jazz played in the living room of your apartment, he decided to make a calm environment while he helped you bathe and figured it’d please you if you had music as background noise. He truly was a sweetheart, more than you initially gave him credit for. 

“Not yet, I spent the whole day sleeping..” As if on cue, your stomach began to grumble.  “Do you have anything you’re craving? I can tell Watari to bring something over.” He offered to you as his skilled hands carded through the last section and scrunched it up. 

“I don’t want anything heavy so.. Can we get chocolate cheesecake?” You looked at your hair in the mirror, admiring his skills. 

“Yes of course. Is that it?” He asked. 

“Mhm.” you answered with a warm tone to your voice. Him doing all this for you didn’t cure you from your debilitating episode of depression, but it lifted your spirits. He got the hairdryer out of the cabinet you had it in after calling Watari and telling him to bring over some cheesecake. You handed him the diffuser attachment and he snapped it on. “It should be on medium heat,” You told him before sitting back on the lid of the toilet to make it easier for him to dry your hair. 

It was nice having him care for you, you had to admit. 

After he had finished with your hair. The both of you indulged in that chocolate cheesecake you wanted, he had surprised you with macarons too since he knew how much you liked them. One of the things you two had in common was your sweet tooth, though his was stronger than yours. That’s why you accompanied your cheesecake with a cup of milk instead of a too-sweet coffee like he did. 

Now, you laid in bed with him at your side. Your arm loosely splayed across his torso while he laid on his back with his arm under your neck, basically keeping you at his side. “..Thank you for coming today.” You told him softly, the moonlight seeping in through your window. “I really needed it..- no, you.” 

“Why did you not ask me to come over sooner, ____?” he asked you. His black eyes gazed upon you with only warmth and care in them. 

“..I didn’t want to bother you.” You almost whispered it, but it was true. You knew he was busy. And you knew you’d get better soon anyway by yourself so what was the harm? “Did you really want to know?” 

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “If you’re hurting, I would like to know. Even though I cannot take the pain away, I could be there for you.” L answered confidently. “You’re not a bother to me. I know that I am busy, but I can always make time for you.” 

You swear you could almost tear up at what he was saying to you. He sounded so genuine.. It almost felt as if you would be insulting him to think that he wouldn’t want to know about your mental health. “I’ll try to let you know from now on, then..” You smiled into his white tee. 

He planted a kiss on your forehead, his fingers grazing your cheeks. “Go to sleep, you need it.”

[ponury-grajek]

umm, girls-

[bee-writes-n-spins]

the mask goes on the minute other people look.

make eye contact. too much, look away. now smile and nod. stop bouncing your leg. make them like you.

those are his thoughts. because too many people have called him weird. too many people have pointed and laughed. too many people made fun of him for just being himself.

oh, but you..

you remind him it's okay to unmask. you smile, listening to him ramble about his interests. you could listen for hours and never get bored.

when you notice his discomfort in a crowd. when you help him communicate when he's too overwhelmed to talk.

with you, the ribbon that holds the mask together comes undone. with you, his mask falls to the ground.

POE, RANPO, dazai, GIYUU, kenma, l lawliet, near, WANDERER, AL HATHIAM, kaveh, LYNEY, and any of your autistic favorites!

[captainhysunstuff]

5 more images below the cut:

@lawlightweek2024 Day 3: Sleeping Together/Nightmares

L notices Light fussing in his sleep. He becomes interested, hoping that it could be Kira-related... only to be Light recalling the faux execution that his father and L put him through. Disappointed, L realizes that he's not going to get much work done tonight and lies down on the bed. Light then snuggles up to him, calming down. L allows it.

I'm kind of imagining L acting like a cat that lies beside someone who's upset and allows them to "pet" him rather than directly comforting them (not that he really intended to here).

[numbuh424]

@nearsbday : DAY THREE - "COMFORT"

everything is fine, they're all together on a fun road trip 🚗

[kroosluvr]

L, did you know...

[scisac]

newtmas - the death cure 2018

[callie-the-creator]

insomniac

sfw. warnings: reader is fmab, mentions of kira and his murders, l can’t sleep, etc.

author’s note: i miss l so much. :(

l sat in his characteristic crouch on the edge of his chair, fingers entwined, eyes intently focused on the monitors before him. the task force headquarters was dimly lit, the flickering screens casting a bluish hue across the room. he had spent countless hours reviewing evidence, piecing together clues, and trying to identify kira, but the elusive criminal mastermind continued to evade him. l won't rest or, at the very least, he refused to. his main focus consisted of two things: keeping y/n— his girlfriend— safe and away from any danger and catching kira (l had dedicated the past few years to the investigation pursuing kira), a figure known to kill those whom he deems morally unworthy of life.

so many criminals have died.

his mind raced with possibilities, tracing and retracing steps, connecting and disconnecting dots. his suspicions often circled back to the same few individuals, but without concrete evidence, he was trapped in a maddening loop of speculation. he needed proof, something tangible that could lead to an arrest. the gnawing uncertainty kept him awake, denying him the rest his body craved.

as the hours dragged into the early morning, l's eyes, bloodshot and weary, drifted to the cot where his girlfriend, y/n, lay sleeping. her presence had been a rare comfort in his life, a steadying force amidst the chaos. she stirred slightly, her breathing deep and rhythmic, oblivious to the turmoil that raged within him. "y/n...?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. he wasn't expecting an answer; he just needed to hear the sound of her name, something to anchor him to reality.

she groaned softly, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. "hmm...whaaaat?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. it was clear she wasn't pleased about being woken up, but she tried to focus on him nonetheless.

l hesitated, his mind teetering on the edge of a precipice. he knew what he was about to ask could shatter the fragile peace they had, but he couldn't suppress the question any longer. "would you betray me?" he asked.

y/n blinked, her drowsiness giving way to confusion. "what are you talking about?" she inquired, pushing herself up on one elbow. "why would you ask something like that?" she added.

l’s gaze remained fixed on her, searching for any hint of deceit, any flicker of guilt. but all he saw was a concern, her eyes wide and earnest in the dim light. "i’ve been thinking…” he began, his voice steady but laced with tension, "about kira, about the people who might be capable of such things. and it occurred to me that...i don't know if i can trust anyone anymore." he said, sadly.

she sat up fully, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, her hair all messy. "l, you know me," she said softly, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. "we’ve been through so much together. how can you even think i would betray you?" she questioned, despite knowing very well that l had every right to not trust her. after all, he was the head of the investigation and thus the arch nemesis of kira. he must remain vigilant, it is all he can do to ensure his safety.

"i don't know what to think anymore…” he admitted, his tone betraying the depth of his internal struggle. "i just…can't afford to make any mistakes. you know that.” he sighed. this was the last conversation that he wanted to have with y/n, despite it needing to be addressed.

y/n reached out, her hand covering his. "listen to me," she said firmly, her touch grounding him. "i am not kira. i would never do anything to hurt you or anyone else. you have to believe that." she partially pleaded with him. if they wanted to put their relationship on ice because of this minor bump in the road, then so be it, but y/n is sure that it would only result in hurting them.

l’s eyes softened, the storm within them momentarily calmed by her words. he wanted to believe her, to cling to the hope that at least one part of his life remained untouched by kira's darkness. "i want to believe you.” he said quietly, "but i can't let my guard down. not even for you,” he said matter-of-factly. “i’m sorry…”

y/n sighed deeply. she then slid out from under the warm blankets, her bare feet meeting the cold floor with a shiver. standing beside him, she gazed down at him, his hunched form bathed in the eerie glow of the computer screens. leaning down, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment before she ran her hands through his unruly black hair. "can you at least come to bed then?" she asked softly.

the night had stretched on for far too long, and the first light of dawn would soon pierce the gloom. l shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling almost imperceptibly. "don’t know," he replied, his tone detached and distant, eyes never leaving the monitors.

y/n let out a small, plaintive whine, her worry for him bubbling to the surface. she wrapped her arms around him from behind, pulling him into a tender embrace. "please?" she murmured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "you need to rest. just a little while…”

l felt the warmth of her breath against his skin, the comforting pressure of her body against his back. for a moment, he allowed himself to be still, to feel the weight of her concern and the depth of her affection. he glanced at her, then at the clock on the wall, the numbers blurring slightly in his tired vision. his gaze returned to her, meeting her pleading eyes. "fine," he said finally, his voice tinged with reluctant resignation before mustering a small, almost imperceptible smile. "but five minutes is all you’re getting."

[trashyshrew]

congrats on making it to the weekend!! after a long week i’m always in the mood for hurt/comfort, so maybe some hurt/comfort lawlight? feel free to disregard if this isn’t the vibe you’re looking for!

[after-witch]

The Touch of the Velvet Hand [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Title: The Touch of the Velvet Hand [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Synopsis: You sneak out at night with Matt. How long can that last, really?

Word count: 2700ish

notes: yandere, platonic yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, reader is L's younger adult sibling, brief tickling, captivity (reader can't leave Whammy's)

Happiness is a fragile thing. It can slip through your fingers if you aren’t careful. Or it can be wrenched away violently by someone else out of pettiness or jealousy or sheer resentment. Or it might just crumble on its own, incapable of bearing the load you put upon it. 

The point being--happiness just doesn’t last. 

You know this for a fact, and you’ve known it since you can remember. Since you and your brother L would spend nights in makeshift shelters, huddled together for warmth, sharing what scraps of food you were able to find.

Since you were whisked into the world of Whammy’s, where you’re still stuck, even as an adult, kept safe and very, very fucking bored behind its walls. 

So yes, happiness, fleeting thing, had to be carved out wherever you could get it. 

You’re not sure what will take away your current bout of happiness. You’re only sure that it’s temporary, which is why you’re indulging in it full-throttle, not holding back for a moment, because God only knows when you might feel like this again.

The first night that Matt showed up in your doorway, you eyed him warily. 

 It was not the first time that one of your brother’s would-be successors came knocking at your door. 

Although that was only a figure of speech, as it was more common to find them snooping or spying or for one of them to simply waltz into your bedroom like you weren’t your own person at all. That type of presumption was fine for your real brother, but for the rest? It made you curl up your lip and ignore them.

Matt is (maybe) different. Matt has never (that you’ve seen, at least) taken notes on you. He’s never leaned snarkily against your door frame and asked you questions punctuated by pops of bubblegum or left a doll that vaguely resembles you in your doorway as either a threat or an offering and you’re not sure which would be creepier.

And so, when he showed up in your doorway, you were wary, sure. But not ready to shut him out entirely. Unless he started prying into your life or revealed some sort of ulterior motive or asked you about (God forbid) your brother.

But all he did was gruffly say, “Heads up!” before tossing something at you. You caught it, barely, hands stinging from the slap of it. 

It was a helmet.

“Huh?” You had asked, immediately feeling stupid, not for the first time within the confines of Whammy’s.

Matt had just smiled and shrugged.

“Got a new ride.  You want to check it out with me?”

Maybe it was foolish to accept. Maybe he was trying to butter you up and find out some of L’s secrets. Maybe he was just bored and you were the perfect solution.

But you said yes, anyway, because you were absolutely bored and this was entirely new. You let him grab your wrist and pull you through the hallways, let him sneak you out--suppressing breathy giggles, your heart-rate raising--and onto the street where he guided you onto the back of his motorcycle and told you to hold on as tight as you could.

You’d never gone so fast in your life. You’d never smiled so much in your life, either.

Could anyone blame you for saying yes without question when he showed up soon after, too? For primping a little before he arrived, for wearing an outfit you thought might look cool? For feeling your heart flutter when he gave you a quick little wink and said you looked nice? 

No, they couldn’t. And if they did, well. Fuck them. They weren’t stuck at an orphanage for geniuses with an internationally renowned brother that was always busy, gone, or both. 

But most people couldn’t blame you, you were sure. Most people had common sense. 

They couldn’t blame you for the breathless way you fell against your bed when he returned you home each night, cheeks ruddy from the wind, grin plastered on your face, either. Or the way that you dreamt about the nights to come, wondering if rides in the darkness, blurry lights passing you by, might turn into something more. 

He’s taking you out tonight, too. He said so. 

And it’s going to be a turning point, you just know it. Last night, Matt mentioned something about a diner--imagine that, going into a diner--he liked, and would you like to try it? Maybe you tripped a little too quickly over your yes but that’s to be expected. You hardly talk to anyone but your brother and he’s barely around, so where does that leave poor little you and your social skills? 

It doesn’t matter, because your thoughts have turned to tonight and the diner. Will it be a greasy spoon, the kind you’ve seen in movies? Will the floor be checkered and will there be milkshakes and fries and burgers dripping ketchup? If there’s a jukebox, will Matt have coins to plunk inside? Will he let you pick the music? Will you dance? Will he press himself against you, this time chest to chest instead of your chest pressed against his back, and will you lean in and kiss you? Will he be warm, will you be warmer, will things go from there? 

There’s so much to consider, thoughts racing, mind connecting the potential pathways of tonight. 

You think about them all morning, all afternoon, and into the evening.  You think about them while you’re taking a shower, taking extra care to rub on a scented lotion that you’ve rarely used before. 

The thoughts race even as you’re flipping through your closet to find something that doesn’t look like a pair of comfortable pajamas. You settle for some tighter jeans and a close-cut gray sweater. The effect is cool, casual--interested but not desperate. Or so you hope. 

The sky gets dark and that’s when you force yourself into bed, grabbing a book that you open but don’t actually read. When Matt comes, you can set it down slowly; it’ll keep you from leaping out of bed as soon as he leans against your door frame. Your eyes dart back and forth on the page, not reading the words but letting them rush over your brain like a waterfall while you wait, and wait. 

And ah, there’s the sound of someone’s knuckles gently knocking and pushing open your door--you don’t even look up, you just set the book down sweetly as you please and stand, smoothing out a wrinkle in your sweater before you look up and…

It’s not Matt in the doorway at all.

It’s L. Standing there, arms folded, resting against the door frame like his sudden appearance didn’t make your stomach drop through the floor. 

“Oh.” The word forms slowly. It feels like there’s peanut butter in your mouth and the words don’t want to get out. “Um. Hey. Is… something wrong? I thought you were working on a case.”

L blinks. 

“I am.” He looks you up and down; or rather, he looks at your distinct lack of pajamas and your carefully styled appearance.  “Where were you going?”

You shift on your feet. The look that you were coolly proud of ten minutes ago suddenly feels like it’s a traitor.

“Just uh, you know. To bed.”

He smiles, and your nerves tingle. 

“In boots?” Your toes flex inside your brown boots, carefully chosen to go with your jeans. L shuts your bedroom door behind him. “Who took you out?”

Your stomach squirms and you press your lips together. The silence is heavy and droning.

“I can check the cameras,” he says easily, “but I’d rather you just tell me.” 

You’re a little kid again, caught stealing L’s notebooks and shoving them under your pillow so he had to pay attention to you. And even if he knew exactly where you stashed them, he’d rather make you tell him and admit your guilt than do it himself. 

“Matt,” you whisper. The heat in your cheeks builds. “It’s not a big deal. We were just riding around.” But it is a big deal, you think. And you wanted more from it.

L hums. “What a strange thing to do, since you’re not allowed to leave at night. Especially if I don’t know about it.”

A scoff forces its way through your throat. “I’m not allowed to leave during the day, either.” Your lips quirk. “I’m not a child. You can’t keep me in here all the time.”

Your brother only stares at you and he doesn’t even need to say “Yes, I can” because you know he’s thinking it. And you know it’s true, too. 

It’s not fair, the way he makes you feel like you’re having a tantrum when you’re simply asserting your right to some basic freedoms.

The injustice of it all slithers down your arms, building in your fists as you clench them tightly at your sides. “I’m sick of being here all the time. It’s like I’m in a fucking… ant farm! Or a doll house!” 

Without an invitation, L pulls out your desk chair and takes a seat. He leans forward and you find yourself standing up straighter, refusing the implicit invitation to get on his level. 

“So. What would you like to do?” He asks. The softness in his voice is a contrast against your own rising anger, the unbearable tightness of your throat.

“I don’t know,” you say, half-spitting. “Go outside.” Thoughts of a vague future rush through you like the wind past Matt’s motorcycle. “Get an apartment, live on my own.” 

L nods. “How would you pay your rent?”

Your lip quirks. “I’d get a job.”

He nods again, and his eyes half-close, like he’s genuinely thinking about your responses. 

“I see. What kind of job?”

You swallow, throat tight, and shift your legs. The boots aren’t terribly comfortable, are they? “I-I don’t know.” You cross your arms. “A waitress or something--something like that.”

L leans back and rests his elbow on your desk, watching you with his chin in his hand.

“You couldn’t afford rent on a waitress’s wages.” He glances down at your legs and feet, already tired from standing for a little while. “And you know that you can’t be on your feet all day.” Something in your chest stings and you back up, unwittingly resting your backside against the bed and sitting down.

“I’ll go to college and be something else, then,” you whisper. “I’ll get paid more money.”

L only looks at you and tilts his head a little. “You can get a college education here, if that’s what you want.” 

“No!” Your fists clench against your blanket. “It’s not the same. You know it’s not. I’d be able to make friends. And meet new people and do things and not be stuck in the same place every fucking day.”

You’ve never made concrete plans for such a future, but the vague notions of it, the idea of meeting people in a coffee shop and having inside jokes and making plans to get drinks after work, all picked up from movies and books, have stuck like taffy in your head.

L waits a few moments before he speaks up. It makes you hate how sensible he seems. “You’re kept in the same place because it’s safer. It’s my job to take care of you, isn’t it?”

That’s when your voice cracks, and when the tears finally threaten to make an appearance. “But you’re not the one taking care of me, are you? You’re barely here.” Hot tears prick at your eyes and fall too easily, and you hate them and hate yourself for being so pent-up, so emotional. So weak.

And just like that, the stand-off, pitiful as it was, is finished and L is up and over, sitting down on your bed and pulling you close to him. Familiar scent, familiar softness. Familiar hands. How many years has he held you like this? When you had nightmares. When you wanted mom and dad and they were dead. When you were scared of being at Whammy’s, scared of the people there, scared of the fact that you were only there because of who your brother was. And everyone knew it, too.

“I take care of you even when I’m not here,” he says softly.

You scoff, tears choking your throat. 

His grip on you tightens. 

“I mean it. I can’t protect you if there are too many unknown factors at play. Staying here is the best way to reduce them. I can’t be with you as often as you like, but that can’t be helped.” He relents enough for you to pull away, to show him the tears on your face, that he dutifully wipes with his knuckles, even as he adds a bit of mirth to his voice. “You were stuck with a genius brother, I’m afraid.” 

When your lips tremble, he sighs.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. And this is the safest option.”

It’s too hard to hate him and hate your life for too long. Resentment and bitterness aren’t fleeting, but they’re awful companions. 

You smile, just a little, through your sniffles. “Oh, like you haven’t hurt me before, L.”

He pulls one of his arms from around your back just so he can flick you on the forehead. “Beating you at wrestling is vastly different than putting your life at risk.” 

You wipe at your nose, brushing away a hint of snot and some of the heaviness in your chest. “You only beat me because I was little.” You sniff. “I could take you now.”

His eyebrows quirk up, and your chest flutters a little--this was a feeling you remembered from when you were younger, a feeling that became harder to come by as the years went on. Sibling silliness. Joking. Fun. “Could you?” He asks, tone rising in a way that eased the tightness in your throat.

You meet his raised eyebrows with a determined look. And there is that moment between you, a moment when you are anticipating each other’s moves. But before you can wrap your arms around his shoulder and attempt a tackle, he moves--much faster than most would give him credit for, given his general lackadaisical vibe--and there are two thumbs digging into your sides.

It’s a horribly ticklish sensation, just bordering on painful, as he digs his thumbs underneath your ribs. 

“You’re a fucking--cheater!” You manage between short laughs as he begins to twist his thumbs. Thankfully, your arms are free, and you grab one of your pillows and whack him in the head until he stops and gets off your bed.

You’re catching your breath as he kneels down. You don’t know what he’s doing at first until he’s got your leg in his grip, and begins to slide off your boots. You bite the inside of your cheek, but stay limp as he pulls them off, one at a time, and sets them on the side of the bed. 

You half-expect him to go into your dresser and pull out pajamas, but instead he eyes the pillow you set next to you and straightens up. 

“Give up on your pillow assault so soon?” He asks, a smile on his lips. He raises his hands and moves his fingers. “Or should I keep going?” 

You pout, and cling to one of your pillows. “Fine.” Your grip tightens and your feet feel lighter without your boots on. “I give up. Cheater.”

He snorts, and walks back to lean against the wall next to your door. There’s that heavy silence again, but now you know exactly how the rest of the night will go and it hurts more. 

“You’re not going out with Matt again.” It’s not a question. Not a bargain. Just a simple fact.

Your chest hurts and hugging the pillow doesn’t help, but you do it anyway. You should have known this was coming--happiness never stays, and all that. Nothing you said or did was going to change L’s mind on this or make your nights with Matt last longer than they did.

“Will you tell him?” You sound like a mouse. You feel like one, too, under your brother’s stare, on this bed, in this room, in this house. 

He smiles.

“Sure.”

It’s a small mercy. If L didn’t love you, you’re sure he wouldn’t give it. 

[sucker-for-yanderes]

Yandere x Reader

Contains: gn!reader, sub!reader, dub/con, yandere behavior, forced orgasm.

yandere who makes incredibly emotionally vulnerable and insecure reader cum even though reader thinks they don’t deserve that type of pleasure.

reader denying yandere’s advances continuously, all failing of course. all of that effort, for what? right. yandere pins reader down forcing them to take it, forcing pleasurable reactions out of reader, and eventually, forcing reader to cum.

but it’s mostly to let reader know that they do deserve that type of love! they deserve to feel pleasure on all levels. only the best for you, pookie. the other reasoning being that they want to make you happy, as happy as you can be.

yandere wiping reader’s tears of happiness as their high fades. they’re ready to give you that same high time and time again. yandere will always be there for you, my dear. they’re not going to let you go. they won’t let you pass up on the same feeling that you give them.

yandere massaging your back, adoring you as you fall asleep on them, mindlessly drooling on their shirt. but they love it. you’re so cute. they love you so much. goodnight.

xoxo.

[2myheart]

hugging 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💗

[bloodybellycomb]

deeply respect people who write fix-it fanfics because my instinctual reaction is always the complete opposite. I will look at something I love to my very bones and think "hmmm...this could be more fucked up, how about I make everything worse, that seems fun". like some kind of mad unethical evil scientist experimenting on the people I love the most.

[lost-romantique]

If Blitzø can learn to hate himself a little less...

If he could learn to open up and depend on others a little more...

If he could learn that he doesn't make everyone's lives worse...

If he could learn to be a little bit more vulnerable...

If he could learn to accept love from others...

He would be the biggest cinnamon roll.

[captainhysunstuff]

22 more images (with some saucy shenanigans and immature "seduction" tactics towards the end) below the cut:

Ryuk makes his grand return and is brought up to speed with Light and L's immoral union. The date seems pretty successful~.

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