#rem fic

[remedyturtles]

10 with Leo and Raph would be so interesting. (Thought I can't really picture either of them saying somthing that mean to eachother, so maybe mystics are involved?)

I hope you have a nice day!

great minds think alike y'all. thanks @bluemoonsymphonies and anon for the prompt! i hope u both enjoy....

wordcount 1k, pre-movie

10. "Please... what am I doing wrong?" "What aren't you doing wrong?!"

Leo’s throat hurt. 

Just add it to the list of bullshit that Raph was doing to him. Because there was absolutely no reason that Raph had to come and interrupt him while he was snoozing on the bean bag. Like, this lecture could’ve totally waited until later. Maybe after Leo had gotten some fucking sleep. 

“You’re not taking this seriously!” Raph said.

“You could not be more of a broken record if you tried, Rapha.” Leo hadn’t gotten up from the bean bag and suffocated a yawn into his fist. He was tired of the grating arguments and he was tired, just bone tired of the fighting for no reason. And tired in general. Because his head was so loud and when he laid down to sleep there was just… screaming there too. 

“That’s because you’re not listening to me.” Raph poked him right between the eyes. “I gotta drill it in that empty head somehow.”

Leo twitched. That was a bit harsh, especially since it wasn’t a gentle poke. He was feeling a little ganged up on and crawled out of the bean bag to stand his ground, crossing his arms. “Yeesh, tell me how you really feel.” 

“I think you’re lazy and unmotivated.” Raph scoffed. “We’ve got so much we could be doing and you’re sleeping in the middle of the day.”

Leo… paused. Stared at his brother with a bit of hurt shock. He was really coming at him, no holds barred. He held up his hands in surrender and said, “And wow, I think you’re a huge jerk. What the hell, dude? For your information, I barely slept last night, so get off me.”

Something flickered in Raph’s eyes. But it didn’t stay. He scoffed again, louder and more derogatory, raising up his lip to sneer with his snaggletooth. “You’re not even trying.”

“Wow.” Leo repeated. Hands still raised, skin goosebumping, a chill from the undisguised scorn. This was different from the usual annoyed arguing. This was … mean. “Okay. Please, let's hear it. What am I doing wrong, then?”

“What aren't you doing wrong?” Raph spat back, chest heaving. Genuine anger sung hot and heavy. 

Leo stared. This sounded a lot like the inside of his own head. Which didn't make sense, because that wasn't Raph. He pushed and he pushed but he was never like this. Not his Raph. Not his lovable big lug of a brother who truly only wanted the best for all of them. 

“Nothing to say?” Raph tilted his head to the side. His eyes were rather blank, now that Leo was making painful eye contact with him. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Leo prompted.

Raph blinked rapidly, surprised, then shook his head. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who's a problem here."

"Yeah, something is definitely wrong." Leo stepped forward, cataloguing other symptoms as he went. "You give me a hard time, you piss me off, and you nag me. But you're never, ever mean. So what gives?"

Raph was sweating. Not any of his usual sweat, not a scent Leo could pinpoint with scary accuracy. Something unheard of. When Leo got closer, he could see the pin-pricked pupil and too-quick breathing. He practically growled at Leo as he got close. 

"Relax." Leo smiled, charming, getting another step closer to the lion's den. Flickering his gaze over Raph to try and find some kind of clue. "I get you, I know you want me to try, etc etc. But you wouldn't just brush past me telling you I hadn't slept, because you know I hate being honest about that. You'd be beating my ass with a pillow to go to bed then and try again in the morning. So either you've been possessed by a demon or cursed. Which is it?"

"I'm not –" Raph lurched forward.

But Leo had already spotted it. He pinched the little bug between his thumb and forefinger and pulled – a parasitic scarab bit down into the skin of his neck. The moment it left Raph's body, the little pincers wiggled agitatedly in the air, and Leo surveyed the bug with a distasteful eye. 

Raph inhaled sharply, hand flying to his neck, and took two staggering steps backwards. He breathed, "What the fuck."

Leo waved the evil little beetle at him. "Did you piss off someone? Maybe walk through a magical rainforest?"

"I – I – " Raph's face morphs into one of pure horror. "I'm so sorry."

"Aw, buddy." Leo opened a portal and flicked the beetle through it, sending the fucker to the moon. Then he waved it away and opened his hands in offer. "It's okay. I know you better than that." 

Raph scooped him up in a hug so tight it took his breath away. He squeezed and squeezed and Leo bore it with the patience of someone who'd been a teddy bear for this man many a time. 

"It's okay." Leo mumbled to him. 

"Not really." Raph replied, miserable.

"You didn't mean it." Leo shrugged.

The arms around him tightened. Raph shuddered a breath.

"Okay, maybe you meant it a little bit." Leo amended, because it wasn't like this conversation was new. Just the vitriol at which he spat it. "But bud, I know you're not coming at me to hurt me. I'd never think that. You're literally doing this because you want me to be my best. I'm not stupid. I'm just really, really good at acting like it."

Raph pulled back enough to show his red eyes. "Then why won't you work with me here?"

Leo couldn't say, because I'm scared my best isn't good enough. Instead he pat his big brother's arm and said, "Let's get you checked out and make sure that beetle didn't cause any lasting effects, hey?"

"Leo–" Raph growled.

Too late. Leo eeled out of his grip and danced away, waving over his shoulder. "Come on, chop chop, I don't have all day you know."

Raph… sighed. And followed, shoulders hanging.

[gojosoups]

Accidentally clicking virgin gojo’s search history, only to end up finding his browser history full of porn.

Specifically porn staring women that look like you, his childhood best friend.

[missmisnomer]

time keeps moving on

whether you want it to or not

@remedyturtles absolutely killing it with the latest chapters of their firefight fic. The last third of ch.37 was so fuckin eerie and tense and visually rich that I couldn't NOT make some art inspired by it. I've been hankering to draw something more experimental and dark lately, and this really scratched that itch!

Thanks for The Horrors™, Rem!

[apocalypticnewt]

started out as a shell ref sheet……. i wonder who my favorite character is. anyway here’s the gay one

[scrletletter]

remus lupin fic recs

Red by @jamespottersdaisy

Your girl by @bettysupremacy

Mouse by @siriuslovebot

Alive and True by @nincompoopydoo

Gold dress by @curseofaphrodite

Lover’s Rock by @cosmal

Pomegranates by @curseofaphrodite

*Surprise! We’re Making Love by @ellecdc

Woven Together by @love-quinn

*frenemies with benefits by @theemporium

*enemies to lovers by @theemporium

Cocky Remus by @theemporium

[goodlucktai]

hold the world to its best (6/?)

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: raph & OC title borrowed from light by sleeping at last part of the archer au

(prev) (next)

x

The storm rolls in later than the forecast called for, starting in earnest the next afternoon. 

The first crack of thunder is so loud, even underground, that it makes everyone jump and Mikey almost fumbles the huge mixing bowl of eggs he’s whisking. It even startles SHELLDON awake from the nap he was taking in the charging dock in the corner. The string of beeps he lets out must be something pretty foul in binary, because Donnie whips around as quick as a snake. 

“Watch your language in front of the impressionable youth!” he yells after his kid, who makes a quick escape down the hall. 

Raph’s about to step into the line of fire for his robot nephew’s sake and point out the obvious—that none of them have half an idea what SHELLDON said, let alone the four-year-old among them—but Leo beats him to the punch.

“Uhhhhh speaking of the impressionable youth,” the slider says, “where’s George?”

“He’s right—oh,” Mikey stops short. His tiny spotted helper has vanished from where he had been parked on the stool pushed up to the counter. 

Mikey puts his bowl down and joins Leo in looking around, a frown tugging at his mouth. While he’s distracted, Leo swipes a chunk of bell pepper from his cutting board, which may or may not have been his endgame all along. 

“That’s so weird, he was here two seconds ago,” Mikey says.

Raph pushes back from the table and gets up to check the living room. A Jupiter Jim movie is playing on the projector, and Gio has revealed himself to be as much of a fan as the rest of his siblings are, but there are no little turtles sitting transfixed in front of the screen. 

“Not in here,” he reports back. 

“Stay calm, people, we have protocols in place for this,” Donnie says, tapping his bracer until it projects a holographic screen of color-coded GPS location pins. 

“Donald, you did not microchip that baby,” Mikey intones ominously. 

“Of course I didn’t. That would be unethical,” Donnie replies. He even rolls his eyes, because he has no sense of danger. “I implanted the chip in his nineteen-year-old self two days after he first moved in, like a reasonable person.”

Raph pinches the bridge of his beak and reminds himself to revisit this conversation later. For the hundredth time in their lives. 

“Can you find the kid or not, Dee?”

“Please, name literally one time my Genius Built methods have ever failed us in any capacity. Of course I can find him,” Donnie scoffs, only to frown at the big error symbol that pops up on the holoscreen a second later. “Ah. Update, due to certain magical interference, the tracker currently does not exist. I can’t find him.” 

“Great contribution, Tello,” Leo says, sounding like he’s fighting for his life to keep a straight face. “Maybe now we can just look for him with our eyes.”

Another rumble of thunder bullies into the conversation. The new lair is a repurposed subway station, closer to the surface than the old one had been, and this is the first time it’s stormed this hard since they moved in, so none of them were prepared for the magnitude of the sound. It reverberates through the tunnels and pipes, amplified by the metal and cement and hollow spaces. 

“He probably went after SHELLDON,” Raph reasons. “I’ll go find him. You two bozos stay put and help Mike finish making lunch.”

“Are you punishing them or me?” Mikey demands. Behind him Leo steals a cherry tomato off the cutting board, because he also has no sense of danger. Raph gets while the getting is good. 

Gio isn’t in the lab, where SHELLDON is buzzing around singing Speed Drive by Charli xcx to himself, or the bathroom. 

Anxiety begins to stir in the back of his heart, where it’s lived for as long as he can remember. It sleeps some of the time, but not as much as it used to. 

The steps leading up to the front door have been baby-gated to lengths of absurdity, part of Donnie’s manic lair-wide Georgie-proofing—so the odds of Gio making it past the stairs and into the dark maze-like tunnels in the handful of seconds someone wasn’t actively watching him are slim to none. 

It doesn’t stop Raph from worrying. He doesn’t want to shout Gio’s name, because he doesn’t want to do anything on purpose that would make that little boy’s eyes get big and fearful, but he can feel his steps getting more frantic with every room that he checks that comes up empty. 

The door to Gio’s room is ajar—it’s rarely ever closed—and Raph pokes his head in without expecting much. Baby Gio got an eyeful of it on the whirlwind tour Mikey took him on but didn’t seem particularly interested in exploring the space. 

It’s a comfortable room. Cozy, even, which is a style that a total stranger might be surprised to find out that Gio subscribes to, but absolutely no one who knows him needed longer than one second to conceptualize before they realized it made perfect sense. 

There are string lights draped across the ceiling, and a huge felt board that takes up half the length and height of the back wall, where photos and drawings and little mementos are pinned. A downy polka-dotted duvet swallows up the bed, and the curtains strung across the front-facing window, to block some of the light that beams in from the living areas, are polka-dotted for good measure—because if there’s one thing this family loves, it’s leaning into a bit. 

And it would be tidy if not for Gio’s little siblings leaving evidence behind of their constant comings and goings. Donnie’s Switch and wireless headphones have been tossed on the bed, and Leo’s guitar is balanced crookedly on the chair by the desk, and the desk itself is covered in the half-inked pages of a graphic novel Mikey is brainstorming. Even one of April’s college textbooks has ended up in here. 

Growing up, Raph never understood why all three little gremlins wanted to be in his room all the time—sprawled on his floor bickering over snacks, or cramming into his bed to make him watch two hour long video essays about any obscure topic under the sun—and then Raph got a big brother, and it all clicked. The huge pink beanbag that used to live in Raph’s room gravitated to the corner of Gio’s, where it ended up staying as a permanent fixture. Half the time Raph just lets himself in and flops into his designated seat, in the exact same way that Donnie and Mikey and Leo consistently get on his last nerve for doing. 

Gio, who thinks everything his siblings do is silly or charming or both, complains about it a lot less than Raph does. 

“Georgie?” he says, just in case there are any turtle toddlers lurking.

Of course no one answers, and he’s turning to leave and find another place to look, when he hears two separate sounds. A vicious growling bark of thunder that echoes down the tunnel, and a muffled whimper from much closer. 

Raph stops dead in his tracks. Now he’s listening for that second sound again specifically, straining to hear it, all his ninja senses and supersoldier senses and—most of all—biggest brother senses on high alert. 

He hears it, and follows it down onto his hands and knees to peer under the bed at where a tiny spotted turtle is hiding. 

Gio’s face is streaked with tears and he’s shuddering from head to toe, hands clamped over his ears, limbs all curled up like every frightened instinct in his body is urging him to go inside his shell. 

Feeling his heart break clean down the middle, Raph trips over himself to soothe, “Hey, hey, kiddo, it’s okay! Gio, what—”

Thunder rolls, and Gio flinches and makes another quiet sound of fear, and Raph realizes immediately what the situation is. He is also about two seconds from bodily lifting the bedframe and flinging it out of the way to better scoop Giorgio up. He has always, historically, hated any potential barrier between himself and his siblings with a single-minded fervor. He can’t even function when someone he loves is crying and he can’t reach them. 

He reigns in the impulse to charge forward. It takes both hands and considerable willpower. 

Running in recklessly always worked out when he was a child, because stakes were low and his brothers would follow him anywhere even if they fully believed his plan would fall apart as early as step one. 

But as he got older, and had to force the leadership reins into Leo’s unwilling hands, and that charming and reliable guy who was forever on Raph’s right hand side with a clever idea or an exit strategy suddenly became someone willing to let them all fail just to prove a point, Raphael learned the value of thinking things through. 

And he can’t just throw the bed out of the way, he reminds himself with gritted teeth, because that would scare the baby. 

So instead he settles on his plastron right there on the floor, cheek pressed to the rug, and starts to rumble deep and low in his chest. April calls it his car engine sound, and Donnie has correlated it with the healing frequency of a cat’s purr more than once. Guaranteed to comfort frightened little turtles or your money back. 

Sure enough, after a moment, Gio’s eyes peek open. He’s crying so hard he’s hiccupping, but other than that he’s barely made a peep. Until he manages to focus on Raph’s face, and then his sobs have a little voice behind them. 

“Hey, big man,” Raph soothes. “Raphie’s right here. Nothing bad is gonna happen while Raphie’s right here.” 

Gio doesn’t budge from where he’s wedged against the wall but he’s listening. He’s such a good kid, always listening. His limbs are curled so tight they must hurt, it would probably feel better for him to just pull inside his shell at this point, but for whatever reason he stays in a miserable little ball. 

“That storm is pretty loud, huh? Raph doesn’t like it either.” He reaches an arm under the bed, offering a hand. “But you know something? The best thing about being part of such a big family is that we keep each other safe. Even when it gets loud and scary and makes you wanna hide, you’ve got all of us here on your team.” Then, with a silly frown, he adds, “I’ll go wrestle that storm right out of the sky and make it say sorry for being such a bully and making my Georgie cry. How ‘bout that?”

Thunder rumbles again, and Gio jumps and shivers at the sound, but when he starts to squirm it’s forward, towards Raph’s open hand. He holds it with both of his much smaller ones, tears dripping from his chin, grip white-knuckled. 

Mouth wobbling, he bravely shakes his head. 

“No?” Raph says, playful and gentle in equal parts. “Okay, I’ll stay in here with you instead. Do you think I could fit under there? Scooch over a bit.”

Something that might one day grow up into a smile touches just the corners of Gio’s mouth. He shakes his head again. 

“Raphie’s too big,” he whispers. Raph scoffs in fake-offense and the almost smile on Gio’s face inches closer to the real thing. “We can go under the table,” he adds very earnestly. 

“That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” Raph says, down for literally anything that will make his babyfied older brother stop crying. “Come on over here, spots. We’ll go together.”

Some jangling, dislocated thing in Raph’s heart only settles when he’s got Gio in his arms, tiny, insubstantial thing that he is. He sits on the floor for an extra minute, rumbling extra loud, until Gio’s pulse slows its frantic leaping into something closer to its normal resting rate. The next time the storm tries to speak up where it isn’t wanted, Gio’s tucked safely under Raph’s chin absorbing his car engine sound and only shivers. 

Red catches Raph’s eye, a familiar hoodie hanging from the handle of the closet door. He’d given it to Gio months ago, when a cooking incident led to Gio’s jacket getting tossed into the wash, and Raph had said, “Here, you can borrow one of mine.”

He’d fished the old hoodie out of a basket of clean laundry and passed it over. It wasn’t anything to write home about, weathered and faded over the years, the hem stretched out and a corner of the hoodie pocket peeling away thanks to a loose string. 

But Gio looked stunned when he saw it. He took it from Raph’s hands robotically and pulled it over his head with a mumbled thank you. It was laughably big on Raph’s big brother, who would probably only have a few inches on the twins for a few more years.

Raph grinned and helped Gio roll up the sleeves, saying, “All my siblings steal this one from me constantly. Right of passage. Look, see? Perfect fit!”

“Yeah,” Gio said hoarsely, thumbing carefully at the frayed hem as if it was spun with gold. “Perfect fit.”

Since he seemed to like it so much, Raph let it keep mysteriously ending up in his room. And Raph reaches over for it now, tucking it in with his armful of Georgie as a makeshift toddler blanket before he finally pushes to his feet. 

“Sorry,” Gio says very quietly as they make their way back toward the light and laughter pouring out of the kitchen. “For hiding.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Raph says, startled. “Georgie, you got scared, that’s not your fault. Of course you hid, that’s what any smart little turtle would do. Mikey hides when the toaster pops too loud. And I get scared all the time.”

Gio clearly doesn’t believe him, frowning deeply. That stubborn face is one-hundred-percent their Gio.

“Raph’s too big and strong to be scared,” the spotted turtle retorts, as close as he’s likely to ever come to a more age-appropriate “nuh-uh!” 

“Hah,” Raph says, “I wish that was true.” He looks down at Gio and tells him, “The thing that always makes me feel brave is remembering that I have all of you guys with me. I have a thing I say that helps. Maybe you can try it next time you get scared. Just say I’m not alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Gio repeats obediently.

One day, Raph thinks, it’ll stick. 

Until then, they’ll keep reminding him. They’ll drag him out of the dark a hundred thousand times and lead him to a warmer, well-lit place, where his siblings will trip over themselves to put a smile on his face, even if that means eating frittatas on the floor under the kitchen table. 

Leo keeps stealing food from Mikey’s plate until finally Mikey snaps and goes in for the kill, and Donnie shrieks when they kick over the pitcher of lemonade because now he’s sticky and someone will be paying for it, and Splinter comes in to investigate the noise and takes in the scene playing out under the table and says, “Why are you like this? Who raised you?”

The rest of the storm passes the way storms always do. The next time thunder rumbles through the lair, Gio is too busy giggling to hear it. 

[evilkaeya]

Hi everyone I woke up and realized I have the power to write literally anything I want to so I gave Light Yagami period cramps. Read here.

[rbtlvr]

smth for @remedyturtles new fic firefight! the twins ever <3 i'm sure they're fine

[crossistent]

hi, @distort-opia how are you doing?

here are my REMS fanarts😊

[dinnertea]

Rem and Misa in matching outfits based on a short fic I wrote recently! I know nothing about designing clothes, like I’m literally dressed like L right now, but I think this turned out pretty good!

[pyrafics]

My favourite Death Note fics! (Masterlist)

G

Sketching by sstwins. 0.2k words, complete. Naomi x Rem (F/F). Quite lighthearted, Rem felt very in character too! No warnings.

Metronome by sstwins. 0.1k words, complete. A little bit of L's dread. No warnings.

T

This Is How I Disappear by TzviaAriella. 26k words, complete. Light Yagami's execution. Absolutely AMAZING, I am fully convinced this is the best Death Note fanfiction there is. Major Character Death.

Ghosts In The Fog by avaricelyrie. 67k words, incomplete. Meronia (M/M) casefic, canon compliant for most of the main series except Mello lived! Very compelling. No Warnings

M

Twisted Fate by TwilightMaster15. 114k words, incomplete. Minor Lawlight (M/M). Shuichi Aizawa as Kira! Major Character Death and domestic abuse.

Imperfections by emopressofthewind. 0.8k words, complete. Matt x Light (M/M). No warnings, also there's no Kira or Wammy's House.

something stronger than the drinks in the bar by neallo. 2.3k words, complete. Matt x Halle (M/F). Very cute! No warnings.

E

one and the same by neallo. 3.5k words, complete. Some domestic Mello x Near (M/M) PWP, I also really found the idea of Mello being Eraldo Coil interesting. No Warnings.

Cicatrix. 0.8k words, complete. Some Mello x Matt (M/M) PWP, and a little bit of hurt/comfort in there too.

obedience training by neallo. 0.9k words, complete. Mello x Near (M/F), very cute! No warnings.

Dandelion Milk by etorphine. 9k words, complete. Mello x Matt. Honestly really got me in my feels! Hopeful ending (unusual for Mellodramattic).

[remedyturtles]

38 with rise Leo if you're up for it! (Also hi hi I hope you're doing well!)

hey buddy!!!! thanks @fuckedupcleric so much for the prompt! i hope you know that i love you muwah.

wordcount 1.3k, huge tw for self harm, cutting, and hallucinations

38. "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."

Sometimes Leo wondered why he was given a blade. 

The rest of his brothers had rather blunt objects, not including the rather dangerous end to Mikey's kusari-fundo. But Leo carried with himself, every minute of the day, not one but two sharp katanas. He didn't think much of it when they were younger.

But he sure was thinking a lot about it now.

Not like. On purpose. His brain was just a god damn mess after… well. Everything. All his failures lined up in a neat little row. The invasion. All the things that seemed to quite cleanly show everyone he cared about exactly what Hamato Leonardo was made of. 

It wasn't a pretty show. No encore. 

The swords were always at his side. The glint of the blade in sunlight and the cold lick of metal at night. He'd begun to trace the sharp length with the pads of his fingers, feeling the crisp edge. Idly, without much thought, almost meditative. Not even with enough pressure to prick his fingers. 

The promise was enough, just to feel, like stroking the teeth of a beast. There was a bite underneath, if provoked. There was potential. Locked jaw, latched into place, never letting go. 

Leo wasn't going to do anything. That would be stupid. He was supposed to be trying to be better, not worse. His weapons were the manifestation of his love for his family. How fucked up would it be to hurt himself with that?

… how fitting ...

Not that Leo was going to do that. He was merely curious the amount of weight and pressure required to truly injure someone with his weapon. It was an important thing to know, since he was carrying the things around all the time. 

When it was six AM in the morning and he hadn't slept a wink, laying awake and pressing his fingertips on the blade over and over and over and over, just to listen to the promise, just to feel the sing of metal through the small bones of his hand – somewhere in the lack of sleep and the late-turned-early haze, it seemed like a good idea. He pressed that sharp edge braced between both hands against the usually hidden top of his thigh, and pushed. 

Not hard. It made a very thin line. A phantom sting, the appetizer of pain, not even enough to register beyond paper-cut levels. The perfect line looked… well. Like it had been there all along, and Leo was just revealing where it was supposed to be. 

The second attempt was no longer curiosity. He couldn't pretend, when the angle and the pressure spoke of only one thing. Leo wanted to make it hurt.

And it hurt. It bled. He swore, a headrush of sudden understanding, that pain existed right under his skin, he just had to dig it out. 

Leo dug it out. He dug it out. He dug it out.

Maybe there was penance, in the blood seeping from his skin, if he could bleed away sins and replenish into something new. Maybe there was a pledge, in each attempt, like this time it might fix something about him that everyone knew was broken. Maybe there was punishment, because it hurt. 

There was a rush, each time, a chasing feeling. But it did not negate the pain, or the momentary fear replaced by hope, terrible hope. Maybe this time it was too much. How awful and wonderful that would be?

Leo hated the swords, almost rusting with how often he had to run alcohol wipes along the surface to clean them. How impractical they were, when he ran out of surface area to reach without being caught on his legs and had to switch to his arms underneath his wrist guards. Trying to balance the long edge of a sword one-handed and give enough pressure to hurt like it was really meant to was such an incredibly hassle. But it was all part of the lie Leo was telling himself, that this sword, the proof of his connection to his family, had always been a blade because it was meant to hurt himself. To carve him into something better. If only he pushed hard enough. 

Which led to here. Hiding in the bathroom on the floor, trying to find a way to balance his sword for three minutes of release before he returned to the world where he was a fuck-up and a failure, where Raph's eye and Donnie's shell and Mikey's hands were far, far worse off than a few little cuts. Penance. Pledge. Punishment. He breathed shakily, anticipating and anxious for it. Hating that it had turned to carving, like he should be allowed to want. But unable to stop. Perfectly sharp blade humming, the manifestation of his family's love. How apt, how real, how true. Leo set his wrist against the braved edge and prepared to draw across the surface like the graceful bow of a violin. 

"What are you doing?" A soft voice said.

Leo stopped. No, delayed. He flicked his eyes up, body taunt, and saw…

Little legs swinging back and forth. A curious young face leaning over to see better, eyes round underneath red stripes too big for his face. Cheeks still with baby fat, fingers gripping the counter he was sitting on. Hamato Leonardo, or at least, a memory of what he used to be. A child. 

"Go away." Leo told the hallucination, and turned his back. He pulled the blade and the pain sung so loud. 

The child gasped. "Ow!" 

Blood. Leo flexed his fingers to activate the muscles in his arm. A dizzy feeling prickled hot waves from the top of his head downwards. Momentary perfection. Then reality soaked back in, and he readied the blade again. 

"No! Hey!" The young Leo hopped down from the counter and inserted himself in front of his senior, visage hazy but upset. "Stop that!"

Leo grit his teeth. His hand shook. He said, more pointed, "Leave."

"No!" Little Leo stomped his foot, bottom lip wobbling. "I won't! You have to stop! Why are you doing this?"

Leo laughed, cold. The answer to that question would hurt more than what he was about to do. So he sliced again, slow and purposeful.

And Little Leo … wailed. Put tiny hands over his face and sobbed. "That hurts! It hurts!"

Blinking rapidly, Leo watched the new blood appear. Almost dripped on the bathmat before he dabbed with paper towel. There was a burning behind his eyes. Faraway emotions, looking in through a foggy window, pointing out strangers in a crowd. 

His skin prickled. Lightheaded. Heart picking up the pace, tripping over itself, sta-sta-stammering. Almost dazed, desperate for another moment of clarity and release, to chase and chase and chase, dog after its own tail, the blade of love and torment against his skin, and –

"No!" Little Leo scrambled closer, face twisted with ugly tears, pleading, "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."

Leo's hand shook. His breath caught. 

"It hurts." The child told him, hiccuping on uncontrollable sobs. "Please, it hurts. Stop. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please."

His grip trembled. The blood welled and the crisp edge promised its pretty lies. 

"Please stop hurting me." Little Leo whispered. Young and sweet and innocent and right here. Right here. Never went anywhere.

The katana was set down with care. Leo drew his bleeding arm to his chest and heaved for air. He grabbed his supplies but wrapped them with far more care than he ever had before. Shushing quietly between gasps for air, promising, "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. You're okay."

The small space was quiet. The bathmat spotted with flecks of blood. Leo clutched his arm and rocked back and forth, soothing. Self-soothing. He hummed a lullaby, and shut his eyes, waiting for the after-image to fade.

[gojosoups]

toji and sukuna love a good full nelson as they fuck their cock into you, all while you’re helpless and at their mercy. gojo loves a mean mating press or even the classic missionary, stretching you in all kinds of positions all while maintaining eye contact. geto’s addicted to doggy style because he gets to force you into a mean arch and watch your ass ripple with each thrust of his cock

[happy-snake-noises]

also, insane that it’s quiet literally never mentioned but in the comics, Jason makes Bruce choose between Dick and Joker? Like they both see a giant nuclear bomb (in essence) get dropped onto Blüdhaven and Batman is like, ‘let me go see if my son is alive’ and Jason is like, ‘nah. He didn’t survive. But if you leave, Joker will die. So make your choice.’

???

AND BRUCE CHOSE THE JOKER. I KNOW IT WAS FOR PLOT REASONS BUT DAMN

(He checks up on Dick later but like, sir could have been more proactive, avoided a lot of drama)

[neallo]

YURI, that means GIRL X GIRL, don't like don't read!!!!!

a quick list of death note yuri fic recs. please note this is an off-the-cuff list & features genderswapped yaoi ships fairly heavily. this is because i write for and read for mello x near first and foremost. i DO have a few remisa and kiyomisa recs, PLUS canon x reader recs... so we are going for a good wide variety here <3

important: i am not listing content warnings of any kind on any of these. most of them fall under the AO3 category "No Archive Warnings Apply," but you alone are responsible for reading the tags and summary for yourself after clicking through and before reading!

encouraging everyone to leave kudos & comments on these! show authors your love! <3

[divider credit]

Misa Amane / Rem

gracefully strung by your hand rated E | 1,862 words

Rem often wondered if Misa’s pleasure was art; Rem certainly thought of it as an act of creation. She was convinced that no other human could create with their body in this way.

Made You Smile rated G | 816 words

“Hey, Rem?” Misa screws on the lid of the nail polish bottle she was fidgeting with, leaning back against her pillows to get a good look up at her friend’s face. “I have a question, is that okay?” “Of course.” Rem turns to her, as permissive as ever. “I will do my best to answer.” She always does. Misa smiles slightly, then beckons her closer. “Actually, I have two. Can I paint your nails?” Rem studies her like she doesn’t quite understand, but when Misa doesn’t clarify or take it back, she hesitantly extends one of her long arms. Her hands are entirely bone, with long thin fingers, and slightly cool to the touch. Misa approximates where Rem’s nails would be if she had any and unscrews the lid again, beginning to apply the red polish in a neat, round oval. “Okay, and my other question…” Misa looks up at Rem, then down again. “What makes you happy?” --- Amane Misa is endlessly endeared towards and endlessly curious about her new shinigami companion.

Misa Amane / Kiyomi Takada

Ruby rated E | 8,307 words

Sometimes she really hates herself. She'd invited Misa to dinner with the intention of maintaining a composed and calculated demeanor throughout, sitting tall with her head held high as always, cementing her position above her. Certain nothing could cause her to lose her footing. But as Misa smiles like a devil across the table, her lips painted like a berry, shining like a ruby in the low light, Kiyomi can feel the control slipping through her fingers. Misa chips away at her, strips the presentable image she so carefully crafted and reveals a side of her she'd kept under lock and key. Not like herself at all. ...Or maybe exactly like herself.

folie à deux rated E | 1,768 words

If Misa were truly devoted, like the sinner that she is, she would have confessed that night while writing her name in pink ink that, in the low light, would of course look red, bloody and terrible and real. Misa did none of these things; instead, this time she took the initiative to ask Kiyomi to dinner.

Canon / Reader

turndown service (misa amane x reader) rated E | 1,571 words

Misa wants a goodnight kiss from Y/N, and who is Y/N to deny her?

cloud (kiyomi takada x reader) rated E | 1,467 words

After a tryst with Misa, Y/N steps outside for some fresh air. Who do you find, Miss To-Oh herself, having a smoke and a midnight snack.

Mello / Near

(see here the neallo-only version of this list)

polar night rated M | 8,119 words

Mello still remembers the time when the collar in Near’s shirt had been twisted, and, without thinking, she reached to fix it, her fingertips grazing the warm skin of her neck. Mello had felt Near’s eyes on her the whole day, and her own hand burned until the next.    But Near's hair is something out of her reach; there’s almost no excuse for her to touch it, and the request is weird itself. Her pride works as a break, a halt in her intent of embarrassing herself by even asking in the first place. Because Mello knows very well that if she ever starts, she may never stop.  Sometimes, she really doesn’t trust herself. But Near does.   Maybe Mello isn’t the stupid one out of the two.  -- [the one where Mello's body is made out of nothing but a sadistic brain and a masochist heart]

Lay Odds rated M | 3,505 words

Nat River, a strange orphan girl adopted and brought to London by the Great Gentleman Detective 'L', is following the footsteps of her adopted father as the Lady Detective 'Near'. When L's case brings him to America, he insists on bringing Near with him to New York. There, the sensitive, shut-in Near is drawn into the wild parties and terrible violence of mafiosi, bootleggers, and drug dens. When a gangster's case practically lands in her lap, she must work to prove that old-world deduction can prevail among new money murderers.

Coast-to-Coast rated E | 796 words

"I miss you." "You do?" asked Near. "Fuck off," snapped Mello. "Get on a plane." "It's the middle of the night," said Near. "So? Airports don't close."

Powder Keg rated E | 2,014 words

Mello stops by Near's room for a late night visit after getting her photo back earlier that day. Near has a certain... fixation.

Steeplechase rated T | 1,025 words

Mello wakes up before dawn and finds the horses in the stables. The groom is already up. There's mist on the track. The barn is alive, and it's cool out. or; Horse Girl Near & eternally undone Mello.

Blur rated E | 2,765 words

Near calls Mello back to the SPK's HQ, but she doesn't want to talk.

L / Light

Lavender Haze [with podfic] rated E | 9,017

Freshly back in Japan, L lets Matt take her to their favourite lesbian bar, where she lays eyes on Light Yagami — a strange, petulant butch girl who may or may not have attempted to murder her own husband. L would very much like for Light to take her home. or L is unhinged levels of horny for a girl she met zero seconds ago.

Hear No Evil rated E | 4,497 words

Misa presses the elevator button and heads up, up, up, all the way to Light's room on the sixteenth floor. She gets halfway down the hall before she realizes that something is off. "Please," someone who sounds very much like Light is saying, from behind Light’s bedroom door. Misa pays her girlfriend a surprise visit after-hours at the Kira Task Force headquarters, and overhears what she believes to be a brutal interrogation. After a tense bout of worried eavesdropping, she intervenes to save her. Light puts the "light" in "gaslight." L is also there.

[totheidiot]

i just remembered that remisa fic idea that i had with human!rem no death note where rem is the groundskeeper of a graveyard which misa visits every week because her parents are buried there. so rem sees this lively, bright looking girl come to the graveyard so frequently and linger by two graves and she just can't help but feel. interested in her. they begin to get to talking and love love love. i was writing it but then. i stopped because i didn't how groundskeepers in japanese christian graveyards worked but i am thinking of getting back to it.