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bonesandlight · 1 year

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For the Love of God- Teaser- L Death Note

Be careful, Kira. I thought, looking out the Teito Hotel’s window. One slip-up and you will be found. One tiny mistake and I will catch you. It’s only a matter of time. Don’t waste it.

I took a deep breath and felt my chest stretch, exhaling slowly to appreciate my new purpose.

The fire in my body, the tingling in the tips of my fingers, this was what it was to be alive.

Most of the cases I get interested in I solve so quickly they become unsatisfying. I feel this shouldn’t be something I complain about, yet it has plagued me. I pray this ends my search for a worthwhile mystery.

I have to try to solve this. It could be unsatisfying, but it’s better than nothing. If this is what I’ve been looking for, I’m more than ready.

Just try to kill me, Kira.

I can show you competitive passion with strength to shake the heavens and tricks to make gods stumble. I won’t let you win, and I will never truly lose. May you rely on that with your life.

I heard footsteps behind me, heavy landing on the heel but gentle on the toes, so it was Watari.

“Ryuzaki, I brought you another coffee, if you want it.” He said, setting it on the end table to my right, about a meter away. He did remember to put a coaster down, like always.

“Thank you. May you go check to see if any of the Task Force members left their phones here?” I asked, just needing a moment to myself.

Watari nodded with a slight hesitation and a flick of his eyebrows, then walked toward the entry hall. He probably knew I wasn’t actually asking him to check, but as long as he listened, that isn’t a problem.

I took a couple of steps right and lifted the coffee cup to my chest level, looking into the sugary liquid.

Truthfully, I do love sweet things, but having to rely on them is exhausting.

The first time I ever tried cake, I was 8 years old. It was a celebration for the most promising child in the orphanage. I, of course, was that child.

I took one bite and was addicted. The soft, smooth frosting that was slightly hardened on the outside and the light, rich cake that seemed to melt into heaven on your tongue. Though, that wasn't the reason I got so infatuated with it.

It was the praise.

It was the very first time I was told in any way, shape, or form that I was doing well, and people recognized what I did. I associated that taste with my self-worth. My pride was reliant on sweets.

I then tried every sweet thing I could find. There weren't many things, being in a heavily secluded orphanage, but I had my ways. I tried strawberry syrup, candy canes, botamochi, ice cream, and macarons. The more I had the more I needed.

I then started to bribe Watari with sweets for my cooperation, it worked well.

Now I can’t get away from them. I frequently need them just to take care of myself, to give me enough motivation just to get out of bed.

I sighed, long and heavy.

Thank god for my ridiculous metabolism.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. I turned to look and caught Watari looking back at me, through the wall entrance of the hallway. I nodded to him to answer it.

Watari, without opening the door, asked who was there.

“Hello? I’ve been sent by Naomi Misora, there are thousands of lives at stake and I absolutely need to talk to the detective face-to-face.”

Naomi Misora? Why does that name sound so familiar? I thought.

And, by “the detective”… do they mean me? How did they find me? And…thousands of lives? Is this about Kira?

I walked hurriedly towards my laptop and looked up that name.

Naomi Misora. I thought with recognitio as her face loaded on the screen.

We had worked together before, she was the best FBI agent under my instruction. Why does she need me? Why didn’t she come herself?

I dismissed those thoughts to the back of my head, subconsciously still walking through every possible answer. I’m sure she has a good reason.

I brought up live camera feeds of the front door and found them... jammed. This person did not want to be seen.

A million questions, a million lines of reason and a million possibilities swarmed my head, but only one mattered.

Can I trust them?

I thought of all the variables and decided that I would hear them out and go from there.

I looked up at Watari and I nodded to him to let them inside.

“We’re going to let you in,” I heard a sigh of relief from outside, “but you need to put down everything you have once you get inside and put your hands in the air.” Watari added.

“Ok!” The stranger called back.

Watari turned the doorknob swiftly and swung open the door, the person was almost nothing like what I expected. They stood straight and strong, hands in the air, wearing a mini backpack. They had on comfortable-looking jeans and a sturdy black tank-top, which complimented the desaturated yellow beanie with a little demon sewn on the front.

They had short, brown hair and were about my height. They had a mask on, covering most of their face.

By their eyes mostly, I realized they didn’t look Japanese at all. In fact, they looked like they were from the west, probably America. (1.9% minority in Japan) They had pretty pale skin (42.3% majority in the world), and green eyes (2% minority of the world), along with a thicker body type. There were very distinctive curves along their body, which resembled a sort of ancient Greek statue.

Even with their short stature, they had an imposing kind of disposition to them. Plus, they had quite a bit of muscle. Not enough that they posed an apparent threat, but still a noticeable amount.

They took a step in the door and I watched their eyes immediately dart around the room, collecting every scrap of information possible. Their ears moved too, straining to hear anything at all. I could almost see what they were thinking. “Escape tactic, best weapon, psychological profiling, risk, likelihood, and-”

Their eyes met with mine and I felt their thoughts flatline.

Watari closed the door and I noted, since opening the door, 2 seconds had passed. The stranger just stood there for a second, presumably in shock, before taking off the little backpack and offering it to Watari. Their eyes kept glancing back at me as they handed it over, taking off the mask and putting it in the bag.

I noted the way Watari’s hand reacted to the backpack and figured it weighed no more than 500 grams.

The stranger walked toward me until they were less than a meter away. They seemed to be struggling with what to say, so I figured I would get to the point.

"What did you mean by "thousands of lives are at stake?"

They hesitated, and said unsurely (but performatively), "I come to warn you about Naomi Misora, she is in grave danger. In the morning she will go to the police department, looking for you.” They spoke a bit more surely. “She has very relevant information about Kira, which is why she's trying to talk to you. If we leave her, she will die. I advise you to call her about a half hour before or after sunrise so she can collect the information before returning to safety."

I narrowed my eyes at them, trying to see any signs of lying, and concluded that they were being truthful.

"Can you prove this?" I asked.

It was a stupid question, but I still felt it was necessary. Even though this person is probably either a time-traveler, delusional, or a prophet working with Kira and thus completely indecipherable, I felt I had to give it a chance.

"I can if you actually do it and it works to save her life. Or if you don't and she dies." They said with a serious voice.

Well, not much I can do about that.

"Are you a time traveler?" I asked. It was a reasonable conclusion, and within scientific possibilities. I’d keep it in mind.

Plus with something out there that can induce heart attacks with just a name and a face basically nothing was off the table.

They thought for a moment. "I can't tell you." They said with a small shake of their head. "All you need to know right now is that I am your ally and your best asset. I can see one of your futures. I don't want it to end that way, so I'm here to make sure it doesn't."

I looked down, fidgeting with my lips. Are they serious? Why should I believe that? One of them? Are they saying the multiverse is real? Why are they really here?

Out of all those questions in my head, only one escaped.

"My ally?" I asked, looking up into their eyes. I saw a small glimmer of admiration and excitement before they spoke again.

"Yes. I am here to help you catch Kira with my knowledge of that one future. I will tell you almost nothing, but I will make tiny adjustments to decisions and outcomes to make it the perfect future."

I guess my skepticism showed, because their face turned dark and they leaned into my ear.

"Not that you have much of a choice but to work with me, because I know your real name." They whispered.

I tried to stay calm, but I didn't as well as I would have liked.

They're lying. I took every single precaution. It's just not possible. My brain said, scared and a little angry.

The more sensible side of me spoke, This is a being of power we cannot yet understand. I reasoned, If they're of the same power as Kira we could need them, and if they're lying I doubt they'll be much of a detriment.

They're holding me hostage with my name so I have to use their power, which is extremely useful anyway.

They would be my best tool and my biggest weakness…

I looked back up at them and realized they looked much kinder than I expected. Their expression was innocent and eager. I admit it swayed my decision slightly.

"We will work together, but don't expect me to trust you until you've earned it completely. Right now we are nothing more than coworkers.”

To my surprise, they nodded with smile. "Absolutely. I promise I will help you as much as possible."

#l lawilet #l death note #L #death note #write #fanfic writer #fanfiction writer #writer #fanfic

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bonesandlight · 1 year

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Chapter One- Teaser Fanfic - Skyrim Brynjolf

“Seeing the lost once more.”

Brynjolf was at the stand. Again.

He didn’t mind playing the conman, that was really no problem. What he did mind, however, was that every time he had to sit there waiting for buyers, he got to thinking.

He frequently thought about the Guild. It was his responsibility to keep it going, especially with how busy Mercer is, and always seems to be. (Not that he could handle talking to people anyway. He’d be dead after one meeting alone with Maven, that’s for sure.)

But after he combed through most everything with the Guild, he started thinking about the past. He’s gotten used to those familiar faces flashing in his head, along with the stabs of grief. He could usually bury those before they became problems.

Not this time, though.

He felt heavy in his chest and leaned on the stand, nudging a few Falmer Elixirs away.

Ever since he found Mercer crying at the flagon, he’s been pretty unstable. And I mean, the way Mercer talked would’ve plagued anyone’s mind. He kept saying how much he missed Gallus and hated Karliah, even after all these years - how he didn’t know how much longer he could take care of the Guild.

He sighed.

Must've had too many drinks.

He quickly buried the pressure and dread he felt, looking for some sort of distraction. He observed his surroundings. The sun was setting, setting a warm golden glow across the town centre. The sale stands were set in a small circle surrounded by stone walls with little walkways.

The circle that made the town centre was built around a well, and the town around the centre was filled with dark wood houses and buildings. There was a direct walkway to the Jarl's palace.

This was something he'd seen a hundred times. Not an optimal distraction to be honest.

And right on queue, he saw a curious figure turn the corner of the Bee and Barb.

They looked strong- but kind. As they walked, they took some time to crouch down and admire the flowers around the bars’ entrance.

While he watched them, he had soft flashes of false memories, as if forgotten dreams or visions from another life resurfaced, then vanished as quickly as they appeared.

When he collected himself he saw them get back up, carrying some of the purple flowers, and look his way. There was a familiar gleam in their eyes, like they knew him… and were glad to see him.

His heart gave a happy jump, like he was seeing an old lover for the first time in years.

Oh I really wish I hadn’t said lover. He thought.

The person smiled at him, ever so slightly, and then turned to talk to Mjoll. He started to think if he knew them but quickly shut it down.

Remember lad, His conscience reminded, You just need to sell elixirs. Focus.

And recruit new members. Another piece of him offered.

Ah.

He looked at the way they held themselves. They were light on their feet, showing a very good knack for stealth. Their fingers had a delicate touch, indicating dexterity. They could be invaluable to the Guild.

A flash of one of those visions appeared, but he couldn’t make out what it was before it was gone again.

He did pull one piece of informat ion though.

Derivs. That's their name.

It's just your imagination. Stay. Focused. He insisted to himself. No more distractions.

You're right, you're right. No more distractions. I cant afford to go through all that again.

A memory of a face from 12 years ago, when he said the exact same thing to himself and immediately did the opposite.

He hated when his brain did that.

Ignoring that thought he analyzed the stranger, or Derivs, further while trying to smother whatever he was discerningly not feeling.

They did look quite rich, based on the armour they wore. The craftsmanship on said armour was top-tier, defining the persons’ chest and abs like a marble sculpture, not to mention the rings that glimmered like stars on their soft-looking hands. The gold and diamond necklace they wore draped perfectly, resting on their heart.

He couldn’t but imagine how accurately the armour contoured to their body.

Come on, lad, pull yourself together. He thought to himself again.

He steeled his nerves and thought up a plan to talk to them.

But it's just to get them to buy an elixir. He swore to himself.

Yeah, like they'd be stupid enough to buy it anyway. Another part of him scoffed.

They walked a bit closer, admiring the city, especially the temple of Mara. He momentarily wondered if they were a devotee.

Everything seemed all too familiar, just looking at them seized him with deja-vu, and his heart fluttered like the hundreds of butterflies that filled Riftens’ marketplace.

No. No no no no no. Brynjolf, we know how bad of an idea this is. Don't do this to yourself.

I'm not doing anything. I haven't even spoken to them yet. He retaliated.

He would think this is just the same feeling he had for one night stands, but people he just wanted to sleep with didn't make him all nervous. (In fact they usually made him arrogant.) So he could safely say this is going to be a relevant problem.

For a moment, he considered if he shouldn't speak to them at all, knowing it might save him the time and pain.

He looked back at Derivs, not noticing how easily he got comfortable with calling them that, and saw them take a deep breath and relax their shoulders.

He instinctively did the same, not realizing he was mimicking them.

The person then walked into the marketplace centre, and Brynjolf knew it was now or never.

Before he even said a word, in a split second decision, he decided to recruit them. In hindsight, it wasn't the best change of course to make with no planning at all.

He'd follow his usual intro with new recruits while he thought something up. The person was just standing there, looking around as if waiting for something.

"Never done an honest day's work for all that coin you're carrying, eh lass?"

Now, he'll admit, he had no clue if Derivs was a lass or lad, but it just felt right to call them lass. He couldn't explain it if he wanted to.

"I'm sorry, what?" They replied.

It was in a tone he couldn't discern, as if they were making a reference and not just in a conversation.

"I'm saying you got the coin, but you didn't earn a septim of it honestly, I can tell." Brynjolf said, trying and failing to keep the way he was looking at them subtle.

"What do you mean?" They asked, making Brynjolf feel like they were amused by his unwilling gaze.

"Look how you sniffed out my little scheme at the North Gate. You knew it was a shakedown and you called him on it. That's what I'm talking about." He replied, tonally indicating his impression.

"So the guard at the North Gate was your man?" They questioned again.

"Aye, that he was. And you sniffed him out because he broke one of the cardinal rules of our business... he got greedy." Brynjolf hesitated. "He was told to run the scam on merchants, but he smelled the gold on you and his judgement went out the window."

Brynjolf could absolutely understand judgement going out the window for a seemingly foolish ideal.

Another memory of a long lost face appeared, and he shut down that train of thought, diverting his attention.

"Actually, I… admire how you handled the situation. You kept your cool and you didn't kill him. That's the mark of a professional thief."

They smiled at him and even the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, taking his breath away in the meantime.

BRYNJOLF. His mind shouted. You better stop this before something really bad happens. You know how this ends, why cant you learn your damn lesson?

It took everything in him not to sigh. Of course, that was right. He really couldn't learn his lesson.

There was living proof right in front of him that he probably never would.

Bloody moons, everytime. His mind complained.

"So all it takes to be a master thief is to not take other thieves seriously?" They asked, jokingly.

He laughed. "Aye, if they're not on your side." He looked into their eyes, feeling a connection. It was awful he didn't know whether to feel dread or not.

They smiled again and took a deep breath, looking away. "Well, even though you're right, my wealth is none of your business."

Oh shit. He completely forgot to make up a test to recruit them.

He quickly spoke, mainly to stall but also to keep them around. "That's where you're wrong, lass. Wealth is my business."

After combing through a few other options he decided that Brand-Shei has been kind of a nuisance lately, and Maven wanted him out of her hair anyway.

The person hesitated for a second, studying Brynjolf in a way that almost made it hard for him to figure out a plan.

Now he knew every stand had a strongbox underneath (mainly because he'd stolen quite a few things from there) and that Madesi had a silver ring that was a family heirloom, covered with carved inscriptions of the family history. Seeing as it was entirely unique, everyone would know whose it was. It was perfect.

Well, perfect enough for a plan made up in 2 seconds.

"Maybe you'd like a taste?"

A smirk came across their face. "What did you have in mind?"

"I've got a little errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well paid." As he replied, he had a feeling they weren't here for money.

"What do I have to do?"

They stepped closer, being fully positioned towards him. He ignored his heart speeding up.

"Simple... I'm going to cause a distraction and you're going to steal Madesi's silver ring from a strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing." He saw their eyebrows flick in an understanding manner and he barely withheld a smile.

"Why place the ring on Brand-Shei?" They asked, shifting their weight onto their other leg.

Uh oh. He'd only come up with the plan, not the why.

Of course lass would be too smart to take instructions for granted. He mused to himself.

"There's someone that wants to see him put out of business permanently. That's all you need to know."

They raised an eyebrow at him, he needed to shut this down. "Now, you tell me when you're ready and we'll get started."

He felt he dodged that question pretty well, but he kept it in the back of his mind for investigation anyway.

"I'm ready, let's get started." They sounded ready and eager, so he wasn't going to second guess them.

"Good. Wait until I start the distraction and then show me what you're made of."

He was prepared to be amazed. He had already studied their capabilities and found it likely they were proficient, now he just needed to see it.

He grabbed an elixir and launched into a speech, being momentarily stalled and argued by Brand-Shei.

Well, he can't impede on business in prison now, can he?

He watched Derivs out of the corner of his eye.

They just casually walked past Madesi and went straight behind his stand. Only when Derivs put the key in the lock that he realized he had pickpocketed it from Madesi in that passing moment.

He was startled into pure amazement by their skill and casual demeanor, but he knew this wasn't all.

Derivs emptied the strongbox, as a good thief would, and covered their tracks. They even re-locked the sliding door.

What a skilled lass I've found myself. He admired.

Next they walked along the stone circle wall, to right behind Brand-Shei. The dark elf was sitting on some boxes so it would be simple for Derivs to slip the ring in his pocket.

They leaned on the boxes left of Brand-Shei, leaving their right hand free to make the transfer.

And after not even a second, Derivs nodded to him, indicating they succeeded. He would've guessed they did this exact scheme hundreds of times with how quickly and easily they succeeded.

"Come back tomorrow if you wish to buy!" He shouted to the crowd as they dispersed.

He preemptively grabbed the payment for their help, reasoning it could save time and reduce suspicion.

Derivs immediately walked back to Brynjolf, and he couldn't help but praise them.

"Looks like I chose the right person for the job." He said with a grin.

They smiled back at him and his heartstrings tugged ever so slightly. "Oh, and here you go. Your payment, just as I promised."

Neither of them broke eye contact when he handed over the coins, and neither of them addressed the way they grazed hands and lingered a bit either.

"The way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch." He said in an effort to break the tension.

"What's been going on?" Derivs asked.

"Bah. My organization's been having a run of bad luck, but I suppose that's how it goes." He saw the mildly grim look on their face and changed the subject, "But never mind that. You did the job and you did it well." Derivs stood a little taller and lost the grim look. He felt slightly satisfied at the way he changed their mood.

He momentarily considered asking their real name, but decided against it. He wanted to call them Derivs, he knew it was their name.

It felt right.

"Best of all," he continued, "there's more where that came from, if you think you can handle it."

"I can handle it." They said solidly.

He would've taken their word for it, just by the way they spoke, but he did want to see if those muscles weren't just for show.

"All right then. Let’s put that to the test."

#Brynjolf #skyrim #dragonborn #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #romance #fanfic writer #writer

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