#muse: L Ryuzaki

[pyramultimuse]

Do any of your muses suffer from chronic pain?

A few actually.

Handsome Jack, L, and Jashin.

Jack is in constant pain due to the injury the vault key caused. Theres some sort of toxin that was burned into his skin that surgery couldn't fix. He drinks alot to try and deal with it.

L is headcanon based as my take on him he was a very sickly child. In and out of hospital due to heart problems, he's had surgeries and when he was an adult he got a pacemaker to restart his heart. This is my HC on how he was able to survive the death note, it did stop his heart but his implant restarted it. On a side note, L was very depressed due to all his health problems and his arms are covered with self inflicted scars. Thats why he wears long sleeved shirts even in the middle of summer.

Jashin has chronic pain due to the torture the other gods put him through that mangled his body. They made sure that even when the wounds healed that he would be in constant unyielding pain.

[kitkat13001]

⋆°• ☁︎ 𐙚 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖

>> l lawliet x reader

>> fluff, established relationship

you’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic clacking of L’s keyboard. 

“you know what i wish?” you muse, watching the light coming off his computer brighten and darken as he flicks between screens. 

“wishing is of little consequence,” he replies, almost automatically. “it won’t change the reality we live in.”

you ignore him. “ryuzaki, you want to know what i wish?”

he sighs, knowing you’ll persist anyway. “what do you wish, my love?”

“i wish that we were in a romance manga,” you tell him, clutching a pillow to your chest and letting your head hang off the side of the bed. “and you’d be just a detective and i’d be just me.”

he’s silent for a moment, taking in your words before he responds. “but i am a detective and you are you. where would this divulge from reality?”

“no one would die, because it’s a romance manga and it’s not that kind of story,” you say with a sigh. “the biggest mystery you’d be solving was how to ask me out and the only crime committed was how you’d stolen my heart—” he almost laughs at that part, “—and we could have a beach episode and montages of cute dates and a christmas special and—” you prattle on, excited merely over the prospect as you list off other fantasies. 

ryuzaki listens as he works, used to this dreamy behavior from you (especially when you’re half asleep like this). your ramblings amuse him. 

“i could take you to the beach,” he muses, eyes wandering in thought. 

“hm?” 

“watari owns several private islands,” he says, wheeling around in his chair to face you. “they’re used for different purposes, mostly as safe houses for emergencies. but i’m sure he wouldn’t mind us staying there on a long weekend.”

“are you being serious, ryuzaki?” you ask after a moment, clutching the edge of the mattress to keep yourself upright. your eyes are big and curious and hold a little ember of hope and giddiness. 

“when am i not serious?” he mumbles in reply, clacking away on his keyboard but unable to hide a small smile. 

you clap in delight, letting out a happy squeal. “oh my god! a private island retreat!”

“it’s nothing fancy,” he insists, turning back to his work, “so don’t go thinking this is some grand occasion.”

“ryuzaki, what about a private island isn’t fancy?!” you reply, clambering off the bed in a hurry. you whirl about the room, darting between the closet and nightstand and dresser. “i have to pack all my swimsuits and summer clothes and oh, my sandals! and my hats and sunglasses!”

“i didn’t say we were going now,” he chides, casting you an incredulous glance as he watches you flit about the room. your manic energy is endearing, if somewhat exasperating. 

you straighten from where you’d been bent over the drawers, grinning and sweeping your hair from your eyes. “ah, you said a long weekend. there’s a holiday next week! if we leave in the next couple days, we can beat most of the travel congestion for the break.”

a small smile manages to overtake him at your spindle of logic. “so you’ve got it all worked out then?”

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was teasing you

“yes,” you reply indignantly, “now get watari on the phone and tell him i said ‘pretty please with a cherry on top’.”

he huffs with a soft laugh, shaking his head. you aren’t demanding of much, but once you have your sights set on something there’s no stopping you. “very well, my love. i’ll call watari, but that ‘cherry on top’ you mentioned will be for me, accompanied by a significant amount of cake.”

“deal,” you grin, shooing at him to make the call. 

[kiyomitakada]

"This isn't what I meant by 'bonding activities,'" Misa says.

L has his entire arm, up to the elbow, stuffed into the Jenga tower box. Light silently prays for his hand to get stuck. "Did you not say you wanted company, Amane-san?"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean with you," Misa retorts. "I said I was lonely without Light around!"

"Yes, and Light-kun is attached to me," L explains patiently. He successfully withdraws from the box; the missing Jenga piece dangles between his thumb and index finger. Damn it. "Many couples play tabletop games together."

"I don't want to be in a couple with this creep," Misa says. "You don't either, right, Light?"

Light sighs. "Misa, you're a suspect in a murder investigation. It doesn't really matter if you want to or not."

"What?! What about consent?"

Since when have you cared about consent? Light does not say aloud. Instead he says, "Whatever," because he's a nice person. "Let's just get this over with."

"Beh," Misa mumbles, but she settles down on the sofa to peer at the Jenga tower pieces L has dumped onto the table. Light and L sit opposite her; L, with uncharacteristic grace, places the last wood block on top of the pile.

"You know," Light remarks, "I'm pretty sure the pieces are already arranged as a tower when you first buy them. You didn't have to scatter them all out."

"Oops," L says without a hint of remorse.

No one moves. Eventually Light, with another sigh, leans over and starts stacking the tower up himself.

-

Light has played Jenga before, obviously. With friends during recess when it was raining outside, yeah, but more often with Sayu and Mom over the holidays. Mom is brilliant at it; Sayu's alright, but takes too many risks. Light's no strategic master, but he's also never lost, as far as he can remember — he just plays it safe and goes for the loose blocks in the middle.

Suffice it to say that this round is going to kill him.

"This should not be standing," he says in a desperate plea to the rules of physics.

Misa grins. She's only been taking blocks from the left side of the tower (and putting them on the right side, to be fair, but that should not nearly be enough to balance this structure). Even one piece in the base level is gone. "But it is!"

"Ryuzaki," Light says, gesturing at their inadvertent creation of the Leaning Tower of Pisa's inferior cousin, "how is — how?"

"Amane-san is quite a good opponent," L muses, neatly dodging his question. He leans forward with a smile, pressing his thumb into his lip. "I am honored to be playing against her."

Misa brightens. "Hey, Ryuzaki, you're not so bad!"

"I'm here too," Light mutters.

"Hmm." L tilts his head, thumb digging deeper. Light watches the way the strands of his hair fall out of and into place. "Let's see…"

Five seconds pass. Then ten.

Light, all of a sudden, realizes he's been staring at the way L's hair curls just slightly when it brushes against the nape of his neck for far too long. He drops his gaze immediately; it lands on the chain between them instead.

The chain. The chain connected to L's hand. He could end this hell with just one tug —

No, too suspicious. If he cheats at Jenga, L will surely jail him (again) for mass murder.

"Can you hurry up?" Misa crosses her arms, leaning forward. "It's only supposed to take a minute, you know."

"Not all of us have your reality-manipulating powers, Amane-san," L murmurs. His thumb has not left his lip.

"Or maybe I'm just better than you."

L's gaze flickers upward. "Did you often play Jenga in the past?"

"Not really." Misa shrugs. "My friends weren't all that into it."

"Then I find that rather unlikely." L glances back down to the pieces he's considering; Light lets himself exhale.

"No, it just means I'm a natural talent!"

Instead of responding, L reaches and plucks a piece away. It happens so fast Light has no time to blink, exactly the same way L eats sweets.

The tower wobbles and —

No. Still standing.

"Jeez," Light mutters.

"Unhappy I'm winning, Light-kun?" L puts his piece down on the top level. He puts it down vertically. (He's already placed five other pieces this way, packed together in a geometry that is apparently conducive to structural support. Light wishes he could strangle him.)

"Who says you're winning?" Light and Misa say simultaneously.

They blink at each other. Then Misa beams, putting her hand up for a high-five. Light meets it hesitantly.

"I do," L says, unconcerned. He tugs the chain. "It's your turn, Light-kun."

"I know that." Light leans forward, narrowing his eyes. Despite everything, this shouldn't be difficult. All he has to do is find a loose block, and then this tortuous game will continue on as usual.

He briefly considers collapsing the tower on purpose.

No. Light Yagami does not lose. He taps at one of the pieces; nope, load-bearing. Another one. Nope. Another —

Suddenly he's falling — wind whistles in his ears — and then he hits something bony and angular with a thump.

Light stares. He'll deny this later but he stares and stares and stares, until he finally registers that he is lying in the lap of quite possibly the second worst man alive and jolts back upright, pushing him away. "What the fuck, Ryuzaki!"

L's laugh is low and slow and amused. "I only moved my hand a little," he says. "I didn't know Light-kun could tip over so easily."

"You are cheating," Light accuses. "You wanted me to lose!"

"The tower is perfectly intact," L says. "No evidence, no crime."

Light tears his glare away from L to check. Yes, the accursed tower is still standing. Damn it all.

"That's the whole problem, isn't it," L continues. "No evidence…"

Misa slams her hands down on the table, making the tower judder. Light startles; he'd almost forgotten she was there. "You locked us up for two months and didn't even have evidence?!"

"There is plenty of evidence in your case, Amane-san." L turns to look at her. The loss of his gaze feels a bit like a punch, but a mild one that Light is not affected by whatsoever. "And besides, I was referring to Jenga."

"Well, what about my boyfriend? He never—"

"Just drop it, Misa," Light says. "He's not changing his mind."

For a split second, Misa glares at him. Light almost flinches — and then it's gone again, replaced with a pout. "But he's insufferable!"

"You'll only have to suffer me until we catch Kira," L says dryly. "So I suppose we'd best do that as soon as possible."

(Aizawa, muttering from the control room: "Oh, really.")

"Yeah, well, we will," Misa says. "And I bet Light's going to beat you to it, 'cause he's so much smarter than you. Right, Light?"

"It's still my turn," Light says. "If you pull me again, I'll break your nose."

"Hmm. Ten percent."

Light steadies both feet on the ground, clenches his chained hand into a fist, and reaches for the tower again.

He taps. And keeps tapping. With growing horror, he realizes that there are no loose pieces. Every level is made of just the middle block and the right block now, and none of them are pullable. They’re just not enough on their own.

…Wait.

Light takes a long inhale and holds it, just in case a breath would disturb the structure. He squeezes his eyes shut, then open. He reaches for the level 75% of the way up.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Light uses his thumb and index finger to maneuver the middle piece into a diagonal —

There! The right piece slips out easier than butter.

Light does not indulge his first instinct, which is to yell FUCK YES!!!!!. Instead he leans back, exhales, inhales, and then puts the piece back on the top layer.

The tower does not fall.

"Your turn, Misa," Light says, attempting to school his smile from "deranged" to "enthusiastic."

Misa claps in delight. "That was amazing!"

"Interesting," L muses. "Interesting."

"What?"

"I was under the impression that moving a piece other than the one played was a rules violation," L says.

"Wh—" Light nobly does not punch him. He weighs the possibility of claiming he had never done that, but the middle block is indeed at a distinctly unnatural slant now. "That's not true. You made that up."

L leans over the side of the sofa and plucks the manual out, flipping through it carefully. "'Any blocks moved but not played should be replaced'—"

"—'unless doing so would make the tower fall,'" Light reads over his shoulder. "And it would!" The middle piece is clearly the only one holding up the entire layer. "Take that, Ryuzaki!"

L frowns. "You, Light Yagami, are a sore loser."

"I think you're the sore loser here, to be honest," Light says, faintly giddy. He could kiss someone right now.

"Your turn!" Misa says triumphantly.

They both turn to look at her. Misa has removed the other side of the base layer. The tower is now standing entirely on one block, wavering uncertainly in the faint air-con breeze.

"What the fuck," Light manages.

Misa grins. "Good luck, Ryuzaki!"

[ @deathnotetober day 21: games ]

[pennyblossom-meta]

The curious case of Anna Green on AO3

Initially a drabble meant to be written in one or two days, this has grown into a full fledged side fic from L's POV.

Dedicated to @lunalit-river and @scar8o. Thank you for always being so supportive 💜

--

Chapters (1/3)

Summary: L frowns, biting down on his thumb as he scans the opening lines of Near’s email, “There are barely any records on the ‘Anna Green’ who enrolled this year at To-Ho university. For all intents and purposes, she might as well be a ghost.”

--

“Ryuzaki, here are the files you asked for.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

The lights are off at this time of night, save for the dim glow cast by the wide monitor resting on a table adjacent to the wall. A humming lingers. It’s faint, incessant, — comfortable, L muses as he wolfs down the last third of a chocolate cake slice — much like static filling the air. Familiar. Drowned by the intermittent snores of the two detectives staying overnight, not quite a crescendo in the strictest sense; even as it grows in energy while the hours tick by. He’s noticed the symphony — though the term cacophony might be more accurate — tends to devolve into a nasal staccato with every 3 or 4 longer exhales, sometimes echoing in obnoxious discordance that makes him more and more certain he’s being pestered by the undiagnosed sequels of mild sleep apnea.

Chewing loudly, he glances at the digital clock on the bottom right corner of the screen; it’s close to a quarter to 5 in the morning. So late it’s almost early.

From the corner of his eye, he sees that Watari stayed behind to tidy up the room. Tilting his head to the left to get a better angle, he examines the slow, deliberate movements with scepticism; they’re as fluid as they’re contrived, as if practised to stall for as long as possible. He draws conclusions from the little things happening in the background; how the delicate china barely clinks against the small coffee spoons when stacked; sugary amanattõ wrappers gathered into a neat pile, set aside; the soft, careful sweeping near the walls so as to avoid rousing the two men from their sleep.

There’s words to be had; his gut tells him there’s a very much non-trivial chance that this will be a precursor to something.

A rustling of papers invites him to glimpse at Watari’s reflection on polished surfaces. It’s closer to 63%, now. Very well.

He skims through the first 10 pages for an overview, his gaze tarrying for a few seconds too long on the picture of a young woman before he turns his attention to the screen. Behind him, the soft brushing of Watari’s coordinated sweeps pauses for a moment and he knows, it’s as evident as rain in April, he stands corrected that this is where the knots will begin to unravel. 

L frowns, biting down on his thumb as he scans the opening lines of Near’s email, “There are barely any records on the ‘Anna Green’ who enrolled this year at To-Ho university. For all intents and purposes, she might as well be a ghost."

Slurp 

He chugs half the tea sitting in his cup, focusing on the scalding hot sensation in the back of his throat as he reads on, picking out bits and pieces.

“...no record that Anna Green was ever present for the entrance exams, though, allegedly, she has scores for them. Below average at best, mediocre to the point that, under normal circumstances, no one with this poor of a performance would be considered for admission. What’s even more intriguing are the reasons why To-Ho agreed to bend the rules for the one student, allowing this woman to bypass university policy and, not only sit for highly competitive and specific exams abroad, but also take up classes from different courses…”

Strange, indeed. Definitely something to look further into. L taps his index finger on the mouse, nail lightly grazing over the ridges on the wheel. He looks up, deep in thought. All this information does beg the question: who exactly allowed this to go overlooked? The university board? A rogue member of staff?

Someone with enough influence to bend the rules?

“...doesn’t exist as a citizen of any country…no travel records in any airline or shipping company coming into or out of Japan…"

Unlawful entrance under a false identity, most definitely. Or as part of a smuggling network. 

"...the only data available is on the university enrollment process…impossible to find anything on the father; the mother’s records (kept maiden name, no mention of a husband or children) show a birthplace at a small town in Italy, 1955, right at the border with Switzerland, and nothing more of consequence...all records left blank from the age of 11 until her death in 1987…no significant medical records either, save for a short comment about the passing itself, as per the following transcription: ‘incidente, avvenuto il 18 gennaio nel Leicestershire, nel Regno Unito’, — filed by the grandfather, dead from prolonged illness by 1988 though ‘grief’ has been listed as a catalyst…”

A freak accident in Leicestershire, on January 18, 1987? What a coincidence that nothing more of substance could be retrieved from these records, save for vague and elusive information. He wonders if this secrecy is related to the father somehow, — he licks his lips to taste the faint remnants of black tea that linger on chapped skin and skims over the university records for the name, narrowed eyes resting again on the young woman's picture — this Atticus Cornelius Green. If that's even his real name.

He looks at the birthdates, realising that she would've been 6, going on 7, at the time of the supposed accident. Only one year younger than himself. It will be her 24th birthday soon, in little more than a month.

Scrolling down the email, he reads on.

"...tuition payments funnelled through Goodfellow's Bank, which appears to be a highly selective, privately owned financial institution based in Britain. Virtually unknown, with only 3 physical offices, total, in Europe and the United States, with no presence in Asia…registered under the apparently long-lived Gringotts Foundation, since the mid 1800’s. On the surface there's nothing questionable about Goodfellow's, though further scrutiny reveals said Foundation is also a major (and the only) shareholder, led by a series of individuals throughout the decades who do not exist beyond the trust…”

Sucking on his spoon thoughtfully, L tastes the dried grains of caffeine that cling to the bowl, agglomerating towards the tip. There’s a small chance that this is witness protection at work, but if so then it’s freakishly elaborate. Dead end after dead end and a myriad of red herrings meant to confuse anyone who investigates, while making it seem perfectly reasonable. Outstandingly legal. One would have to read between those creatively woven lines. 

But then there’s the shadow bank. If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and acts like a duck, then it is a duck — or so the saying goes. Official police forces wouldn’t be able to resort to these underhanded tactics without a tangible need; and there would be an inquiry or requisition beforehand. Someone would have to budge. Things like these always leave a trail. Though the British Secret Services could potentiate such a scenario and there would be nothing to pursue, if they so wished. 

But to what end? For a trip abroad? It didn’t make sense. There’s abuse of the law and then there’s playing around it, dangling the threads like a puppet master.

“...there’s no system to hack and therefore no personal data to retrieve. Any bank transfers seem to be made in person, at the London office. Though To-Ho lists two different addresses for foreign students; Anna Green’s file shows one in the UK and the other in Japan. The former is registered as the sole property of one Awarnach Greengrass near Windsor, dating to the late 1600’s, and has never been updated since. Otherwise, the several acres for this plot of land are not even accounted for in modern records — or pay taxes.

The latter address points to a building just a 5 minute walk outside of To-Ho. Records for the building show that it’s registered as having only 7 floors. However, the primary plans kept at the Ministry of Land and Infrastructure display a total of 8 — approved and built. The addendum was placed without rebuttal this past month of March, 4 years after the structure had been built and all apartments sold without exception. The previous proprietor of the 8th floor died mid-February and left no family to inherit, though his name was stricken from the more recent record updates…”

This isn’t like the hunt for Morello, with knotted threads and underworld connections; not when he discovered the swindles, the under the table deals with art galleries and high class politicians, in a spectacle of dazzling lights and charming conversations. Definitely nothing like Merri Kenwood’s indiscretions as the thrill-seeking second daughter of a wealthy family.

No, whatever he’s stumbled upon is much more insidious and has tendrils across the decades. 

Narrowing his eyes, L quickly reads Near’s conclusion: “...the majority of these records are fabricated with the intent to appear official, when in reality they’re nothing but a smokescreen…”

He wonders if it’s a coincidence that he’s tripped over the proverbial basket of kittens, only to find a nest of snakes. And with the murders case ongoing, does this invalidate the theory that Misa Amane might be the Second Kira? No, they’ve gathered more than enough evidence for Amane in the past few weeks, but whether this is another loose thread…

“Watari?”

He feels rather than sees Watari approach.

“Any DNA match with the bloodied gauze?” he murmurs, confident on what the answer will be.

“None at all.”

“I see. Thank you.”

There’s only a very slim chance that this is related to the Kira case, but the coincidences are too many to believe that this is entirely unrelated. Or if it is, then there’s something else happening here. I’ve met Anna Green and I’m sure she doesn’t fit the profile for the First Kira — as for the Second, there’s nothing connecting her to Light Yagami or Misa Amane…am I overthinking this?

Wiggling his toes, L starts to draw his hand towards the box of chocolates on the table. He hears a light shuffle. “There’s also the matter of M,” Watari all but whispers, voice urgent and grim.

Ah, there is it.

He swallows a bonbon. “What about him?” 

Hesitant, Watari glances over his shoulder towards the detectives sprawled on the sofas. Once he’s adequately sure that they’re still fast asleep, he continues, “It seems that M hacked into N’s server and somehow managed to decrypt your correspondence, along with all available research data on the case…”

His lips twitch ever so slightly. Behind him, Watari can’t see his amusement. 

A scattered trail of crumbs — quite possibly with Near’s veiled consent. Sounds like a move to gleefully fuel Mello’s one-sided competition — or perhaps…

An allowance?

“Predictable, if unwise,” he licks the corner of his mouth, lapping at the bits of chocolate left behind. Hazelnut — and caramel. Slightly salty, but edible. 

“— travelled to London on his own to investigate the premises of this Goodfellow’s Bank, but only found a closed shop with no visible schedule. Nearby residents confirmed they had never seen it open.”

“That would be the primary office in Charing cross Road (1), yes?”

“Indeed.”

“Then it’s a red herring, as expected.” 

“Unfortunately that’s not all,” if possible, Watari lowers his voice even further, making L cock his head to the side as he strains to listen to this secret. “Days later, M stole a car and drove by himself straight to Windsor through the motorway, where he decided to prowl the farmlands until almost running out of gas. According to M’s report, he seems to have stumbled upon the property registered under the Green family — although his findings point to a derelict mansion in the middle of the forest, not a livable estate.”

Watari sifts through the stack of papers, picking the last set in the pile with the upper left corner folded into a neat triangle. N emailed, while M chose to fax , he whispers. L pinches the top of the file, his eyes moving quickly from left to right, up and down, until he’s made a mental map of the contents.

“ ‘...ruins surrounded by crumbling gates and overgrown English ivy that claimed the entire structure a long time ago…’ — I see, so it couldn’t be it at all. Yet another red herring,” he drawls, looking up at the ceiling. Shadows dance, long-limbed and distant, illusive. “Though this does give more credence to the witness protection theory, I’m still not sure…”

Is this indeed a case of false identity? Theft and blackmail? What’s going on?

He reads the last page and frowns. “M didn’t examine the property?” 

A rhetorical question, to which Watari merely shakes his head. ‘...lost interest in a useless cat and mouse chase, not worth looking for clues here. Forgot to bring a lantern.(2)’ L puts down the file, placing it on top of the stack, thinking it’s a strange conclusion for Mello to reach, especially when he's so desperate to prove himself above Near. It pays for the overconfident to be thorough. And he knows that well enough, despite his impetuousness.

Lodging a fingernail between his two front teeth, L ponders over Mello’s words once more. The attitude itself is out of the ordinary.

Watari busies himself cleaning the crumbs under his armchair, in silence. Then, he tidies the stack, now out of order. Waiting for a follow up, no doubt; but these things can’t be rushed. L pours through photos of the landscape, scrutinising every inch of the images; any resulting from this adventure are blurry and pigmented, as if altered post-processing. An unfortunate accident, explained when the camera malfunctions shortly after Mello is — as he states in brash words, the offence visible even through writing — suddenly picked up by a police car on the motorway. The agents sputtered, perplexed that a 14 year old boy drove a stolen car. Roger had to pay a hefty fine to keep Mello out of juvenile prison. He also gets out of a damning record for underage driving, thanks to the many contacts at Wammy’s.

Lame-ass, he calls it.

As expected, Mello seems unhappy with this particular turnout. His intelligence combined with bubbling insecurities and a natural inclination towards the extreme, Mello has the makings of a fairly competent criminal.

L narrows his eyes, “Say, do we have the results on the ‘coin collection’?”

A rustle of fabric. Watari promptly pours him more tea, the robust aroma wafting upwards, “The bu is an authentic coin from the Edo Period, nowadays often on display at museums or secured by ancient history collectors. One single piece would be up for sale starting at 1.5 thousand, subject to the seller’s reputation.”

“There were at least 12 on the floor that night, some perhaps more obscure than currency from Edo if my eyes didn’t deceive me,” he taps his lips with one pale finger, looking thoughtful. “What about the other one?”

“The second coin is made of solid gold, though the minting — remarkable as it is — doesn’t match any known branch. The coinage alone is entirely unknown, even if it bears Gringott's Foundation inscriptions."

Could they really be collectibles, after all?

He nods. “Thank you for your diligence, Watari. As always,” he adds after a heartbeat, quietly slurping the remnants of his black tea, “Please file these away as soon as you’re able.”

L eyes the now neatly arranged stack. For the last time, he allows himself to stare at the picture on the first page before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Of course.”

Silent as a shadow, Watari leaves.

I have a lot of thinking to do. But she doesn’t fit the profile…and I’m certain Amane is the Second Kira, at this point. No, this is something else entirely.

Alone again save for the sleeping detectives, L finds that his fingers clench over his knees of their own accord, muscles taunt and knuckles blanching bone white as he looks out the window at the waking sun. 

Another day, another mystery.

...

TBC

[naomi-the-scrivener]

📍 Info 📍

Hi there! I'm Naomi, the Mod of this blog. I'm a hobby fanfiction writer, as well as aspiring author of a long planned Fantasy Series. With this blog, I'd like to take my first tentative steps towards publishing my stories.

《 🦊 》

Additionally, I am also here to have fun, engage with like-minded people, and do the occasional roleplay or two.

I have two in-character RP-accounts (muses) which you can find here.

《 🦊 》

This blog will be written in English, my stories will be posted in English and German.

More info below!!!

Symbol Chart

Will write/has written stories about {📝}

Will Roleplay {🌌}

I am active in the following fandoms

The Hobbit / Lotr {📝}{🌌}

Naruto {📝}{🌌}

Assassins Creed Odyssey {📝}{🌌}

The Vampire Chronicles

Baldur's Gate 3

Detroit Become Human {🌌}

Stargate Atlantis {🌌}

Other fields of interest

Ancient Greece {🌌}

Vampires

Writing

My babies

No matter if you have art, stories, brainrot, headcanons or Rp as them - approach me. I'll gladly indulge you.

Lestat de Lioncourt

Louis de Pointe du Lac

Kili

Itachi Uchiha

Kisame Hoshigaki

Ryuzaki (L)

Stentor (AC Odyssey)

Alkibiades

Ralph (Detroit Become Human)

Todd the Wraith

Alucard Tepeš

Hector (Castlevania)

Halsin Silverbough

Astarion Ancunin

Cazador Szarr

Howl J. Pendragon

Characters I RP as

Itachi Uchiha

Shisui Uchiha

Sasori no Akasuna

Namara Lemay (OC)

Amber Williams (OC)

《 🦊 》

Found something you like? Don't be afraid to hit me up. DMs and Asks are always open. ♡

[raw-law]

WAIT I FORGOT TO INCLUDE SOMETHING ELSE!! saw some of your poetry recently, i think youre both pretty good at it :] i am soooo ill and insane about them /pos

-anon-quadro (📒)

L:

ah.. those, hah.

i'm glad you like them. i like light-kun's as well. poetry is nice. people should do it more. :]

Light:

Well, Ryuzaki's is rather beautiful. As for mine...they're just little musings, but I'm glad you like them.

[god-of-this-new-blog]

"If I were to explain it now, Light-Kun, it would ruin the investigation."

"Oh, so this is about me." Light huffs and turns back to his own window, digging his shoulder into the plush seats.

"Is it not always?"

Light's eyes narrow, "What do you mean by that?"

L does turn back to look at him now, his own features laced with amusement. It makes Light's skin crawl, "I mean that you are narcissistic."

Light rolls his eyes, "are you seriously trying to pick a fight with me?"

"No… though if you want to fight… I guess I have no say in the matter."

Light seriously considers it for a moment. He's never been the violent type. Before L, he'd never so much as slapped someone on the shoulder in congratulations, and now here he was debating if he should start a fistfight in the back of a limo.

"I don't want to fight, Ryuzaki," Light sighs; it's a chore to get those words out," It's just... You're acting weird."

"I could say the same about you," L muses, looking up at the roof of the car as if some divine knowledge floats just above his head.

"Come on--"

"Now that you mention it… you've been acting 'weird' ever since you were released from confinement--"

"No. No, we are not doing this right now."

L turns back to him entirely. Backlit, the sun streaming in from the window behind him makes the man look all the more washed out. "Doing what? I only made an observation."

"To annoy me."

"Annoy you? I would never want to do that, Light-Kun."

"Because we are such good friends?"

L shakes his head, unruly strands of dark hair falling into his eyes, "because it would not be wise to get on Kira's bad side when I am alone with him."

Light takes a steadying breath; he knows what L is doing. The detective seems to get a genuine kick out of winding Light up. He does it often—Light rubs at his temple, shoving auburn strands of hair out of place.

"I'm not Kira."

[mapsareforbraindeads]

obligatory pinned post

hello, i am vari/merlin/nia, your local it/its/they aroace genderqueer motherfucker who is totally not a bunch of death note characters in a trench coat (aka i’m a traumagenic system)! also I AM A MINOR. don’t be weird!!! i would say more about myself but i don’t want TOO long of a pinned post. just judge me based on my posts ig

current ongoing fic

roleplay blogs (and my muses):

@thebastardsbox (multifandom)

@kira-ask-force (light yagami, touta matsuda)

@gods-light (light yagami)

@doki-doki-kira-catcher-club (light yagami)

@deathnoteforrealjustice (mod light, mod L)

DNI: basic DNI criteria, ryuzaki persona theory believers, niragi defenders, yashisato shippers, people who demonize mental illnesses, and anyone who believes in “narcissistic abuse”. most of these are due to personal discomfort and if you can’t respect that, leave.

(i have very conflicting opinions on literally everything. i apologize if this is confusing, i have several mental disorders)

(userboxes from @/sweetpeauserboxes and blinkies made on blinkies.cafe)

[xionshadow]

Blorbo bingo!

L

Zib

Ciel

Matsuda

Luo Binghe

HEHEHEHEHE, THEM!!! THEM THEM THEM!!!

Thank you, and for the sake of my poor followers... I will put a cut cuz I will gush about my boys.

Starting with L!!

L! I love this man, fucky lil cryptid man. L Lawliet or Rue Ryuzaki (I use both interchangeably at times.) is the world's greatest and slimiest detective. He takes up THREE whole ass slots and he sits like a weirdo. He is nothing BUT cryptid energy and gender envy to me. He's such a mary sue, but in the way that everyone who's important to the narrative and against Kira way. Honestly, Light is a mary sue too-. But that's beside the point. He is also almost always the only adult in the room. Which is funny as shit when you realize he's the most childish. Like, he holds the most authority and has the most reasonable line of thinking, while eating like three gingerbread houses with maraschino cherry syrup coating his shirt. I love him, he's a fucking bastard. He's done so many fucking crimes though. Every government is willing to believe he's Kira before they would let him on a case, which is honestly an accurate gauged of his character. He really would make something like the Kira case cuz he's board.

But GOD when you actually pull back the curtain of his actions and his Autism Stare™, you actually realize he's a little fucked up. And not in the fun way. I mean in the "Oh god, get him into therapy RIGHT NOW" way. This boy doesn't even understand the idea of opulence because he lives with the bare minimum so fucking often. It's doubtful if he even knows the comfort of a stable living quarters because he's been moving from hotel to hotel since he BECAME L. There's a high ass likelihood he doesn't even really want to be L anymore but keeps it up because it's the only thing he knows to do.

The author of DN really looked at L and went "I can fit so much autism and golden child syndrome into this man" and then didn't ask for approval. I love Ryuzaki,,, so fucking much. He's a neat character to disect, I promise.

NOW! Zib Membrane!!!

I can write like three essays about him. 90% of what I know about him is head canon, but like dude. You gotta understand, he's not okay. This is a man who caused the heat death of an entire universe in a single night BY ACCIDENT. He needs so much therapy. Not to mention he is basically a walking gender and identity crisis. He doesn't even like the name Zib. It was thrust onto him. Poor boy.

Does being part Irken count as cryptid swag? I say yes. And there's also a possibility he's also part vampire bee too. Zib does so much wrong though. Can't blame him, he's basically like a chihuahua. He's tiny and filled with enough spite to kill god. The only issue is the fact that he would 100% be bodied by earth's natural gravity.

He has enough blood on his hands to be considered fucking insane but like in his defense he's a bastard. His gender is unknowable, and that's sexy me thinks. I would mug him of his gender, it would end with him dead by accident cuz I sneezed on him. I both beloath and belove him. He's the worst.💖

All of this to say, he's my muse. He was sent to me on a pyre of wood and salt, and I love him. I hold him close to me even as he carves crescents into my fingertips with his jagged teeth. I cradle him as I show him off to all who will acknowledge him, even if he's trying to break each digit in my hand with the brute strength he most defiantly doesn't own. I make him wear silly little dresses as he screams curses. I love him a lot. 💖Although the feeling is most defiantly not mutual.

Ah!! Next rat bastard, Ciel Phantomhive!

OI! SOMEONE GET THIS SASSY CHILD—.

Okay enough playing around. Ciel Phantomhive, the most normal character I own in my list. Which is saying something because he has suffered straight up abuse. And not just the verbal kind.

The storyline of Black Butler is just there to show you how fucked up one traumatized 13-year-old kid can get. And like, yeah that shit tracks. Wish trauma wasn't on the docket per each arch, but much like Sebastain, I sorta reveal in it. It's cathartic to me somehow. I can't explain it, but I do like seeing Ciel lose his shit and be pathetic a lot. I also like seeing his demon butler take care of him, because Ciel is only 13.

Ciel has committed literal crimes. Like, murder is defiantly something he's partaken in at least three times since the beginning of the Madame Red Arc alone. And he is basically a nervous dog with enough spite to kill god. Or at the very least, kill his dear butler, Sebastian. Which almost happened thanks to the Undertaker. God I almost feel bad for that demon. Almost.

His gender is something I do crave though. Something about the opulent style mixed with the clearly childish outfits is super cute! Not to mention the dark gothic vibes. Like these fantasy outfits are so cute and I agree with the art team during that one arc that was super serious. I miss Ciel in very flashy, eye-catching, Victorian inspired clothing. His clothing style inspired my very hyper specific gender need of complex cute and girlish outfits but tailored for boys in specific.

That is to say, Ciel is a muse to me outfit wise. And making art of him. Also character study wise. I relate to his struggles a lot, and he's helped me learn how to more reasonably respond to trauma. I... don't know how that works, seeing as he's a repressed traumatic mess with PTSD. But I guess sometimes you need a character that is a wreck to show you how to not be one.

I love him, so much. I hope the kiddo gets to die a fairly peacefully death in the end. Since ya know, he was dead before the narrative even started going. And at the current moment, that's the only way I see the storyline ending. It would suck and yet it would be only natural. Although if we get canon Demon!Ciel I wouldn't be opposed to it in the slighest!

Matsuda!!!

It is him, the "just a guy" of guys. He literally starts out the manga looking in his thirties and by the time he is seen in the one shot with his hair grown back out he looks like he turned 21 yesterday. You straight up overlook him in the manga for so long until one day BAM he's in your face and he's being cute.

He is literally trying his best at all times, and I love him for it. He's currently in my brain 24/7. I am making a whole ass fic about him and Beyond, and I'm getting a birthday present about him once more. I love him. He's literally babygirl.

Of course, a man who is perfectly well adjusted is not a part of my blorbo list. And I can promise you, Matsuda Touta is not well adjusted. He's just a sunshine boy though. He's that one person who is actually deeply traumatized and when opens up about it, people are questioning how he isn't a depressed ball on the floor. Because, like, he really should be? He haunted by both L and Soichiro's death but he just sorta pushes on anyways?

He bounces back and looks happy and acts it a lot. But he really is suffering on the inside. He's like a repressed time bomb that doesn't even know he's repressed. And lord help him by the time the one shots roll around. You almost wonder how many break downs he's had in private post Light's death. And yet he's still a police officer, who seemingly didn't learn a damn thing from the Kira case. Still bright eyed and willing to jump off a building if it meant securing the outcome of for the case.

Gotta love him. His gender is so aggressively just a guy™. He really shouldn't have been in such a dark piece of media. He's written as comic relief, but he really starts out the manga thinking he's in a normal murder mystery manga. Only to meet L and decide that he's now in a dorky comedy. Only to have Light be put on the team and then is CONVINCED it's a romcom. Man can't get any breaks because he only realizes it's a tragedy he's been put into once L is dead.

If anyone in death note deserves a soft epilogue it's Matsuda and the rest of the task force. They went through so much shit, and for what? Light's ego trip into ego death? Not far.

I think a good little follow up for Matsuda would be him being domestic and helping out what remines of the SPK. He needs a rich authority figure anyways. Plus Near could use the company too.

Finally, the puppy in a human's(?) body! Luo Binghe!!

Somehow, he isn't normal. Like at all.

I can't really say much about him because all I know is stuff about him in passing and from the first few chapter(s?) of the book because Riku read it to me. I'm a disaster case and it was the only way to get me to read the story. Legally.

But like the artists who did the official art on the books got me smitten with him. Like look, his hair is so curly and long, and he's just so cute. He's an oversized dog who's in love with his less than good teacher. It's cute, a little messy, but cute.

He's also in the wrong story aggressively. He was literally written to be a stallion novel protag. His real story (the one that's closer to how SVSSS is written as) should be an idiot plot with countless misunderstanding. Like Romeo and Juliet mixed with the tale of Orpheus. No, I'm not kidding. It would be funny though.

Unfortunately, not much to say here, since I actually should learn more about him. But like, I'm sorry. He's unironically so fucking cute. I want him to have the world. He deserves it all.

[koriningyou]

☆BEYOND BIRTHDAY☆

Beyond Birthday (B) is one of the original children of Wammy’s House, next to A. He was orphaned at a young age (his father was murdered and his mother in a train accident), putting him in Wammy’s House because of his intelligence. Over the years, B had befriended A, enjoying the closeness of another. He also slowly became obsessed with L, wanting to be better than him, so much so that after A killed themselves (or so he thought), B ran away from the orphanage and killed 3 people in hopes of making a game for L. During the investigation, B poses as L, claiming to be Rue Ryuzaki and works alongside Naomi Misora to solve the case. 

B had planned on setting himself on fire to kill himself as the fourth and final victim in his game. However, Misora figures it out in time to save him and arrest him. It is while in jail for life that he dies of a heart attack from Kira. - In an au, B discovers A is alive and breaks out of prison to be reunited. The prison officers claim B has died by Kira as a way to cover up their mistakes of allowing an inmate escape.

☆.🔪.bb. (main tag (to be used on every post whether ic /ooc/musings etc. this way it can be completely blocked if necessary)) ☆.aesthetic.bb. (musings that relate to them) ☆.ic.bb. (all in character posts) ☆.hc.bb. (headcanons) ☆.🔪.mainverse. (quicklink to au tag.)

☆.🔪.bxa. (BxA ship)

[neko-mun-rp]

@warofchanges​ said to L:  "I demand the attention you've been neglecting me for a while by now."

���I’ve wha-?” L looked up from his computer to his boyfriend then back to glance at the time. “Oh, I’ve been on for ten hours. My how time flies by.” He said and saved his work  before he closed the laptop. Then spinning in his chair to face Light he hugged him around his waist. “You have my full attention Light.”

[neko-mun-rp]

warofchanges​:

“Are you trying to enchant me?“ Light grinned, eyelids batting softly as he adjusted against teh pillows, mussing up his hair a bit more. Even like that, he looked as handsome as ever, obviously.

“Mmh that sounds like an amazing breakfast waiting for us~“ Fingers grazing at his boyfriend’s scalp, Light glared down at L’s look. “Did you get out in your pajamas you dishevelled brat?“

L nodded and hummed happily at the pleasant head scratches, if he had been a cat he’d definately would’ve been purring up a storm. But then Light’s tone turned sour when he saw what he was wearing. “Thats the same look the barista gave me.” Ryuzaki said in response as it was all the answer he need provide.

Touch meme from L: Boops Light's nose and kisses his cheek.

Light scrunches his nose in his sleep and slowly opens his eyes to find himself staring at L's face few inches apart. "'Morning..." He rolled on a side, leaning closer to his boyfriend enough to peck at his lips. "Did you disturb my beauty sleep again to get some attention?"

[puropoly]

BRUTUS BY THE BUTTRESS ALSO GIVES BEYOND VIBES

I've been watching him for my entire lifeI hate the air he breathes, his foolish decrees, his words so ContrivedAnd I hate the way the townspeople gather outsideThey hang on every breath, cling to his chest, home to his Heart Full of prideThe oracle told him to beware the idesAnd I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing for untimely death or DemiseOr am I just wishing I could be like you?That the people would see me too as a poetAnd not just the muse

Oh it's not true, I don't wish harm upon youFrom birth we've been like brothers, of different mothers, Within the spirit of the same wombMay the gods strike me down if I forsake youFrater meusYou're beautifully made and to you I'm forever gratefulI'll never forget that you showed me to make artAnd I know the love you showed me came from a pure and Noble HeartI love you and if you want I'll call you kingBut why do I lie awake each night thinkingInstead of you, it should be me?

....well, my wig is approximately 147 kilometers away from my head

[jxsticeincognito]

( o o c ) : remember when I did a closet cosplay of L looking all dapper, back in 2015? Found this looking through my old pics!

[solum-detective]

I can’t believe I’m witnessing Ryuzaki Persona vs. Autistic L discorse with my Own Two Eyes.