"Ephemera" is a series of shorts derived from 50 word prompts randomly generated on - mostly because it amuses me to write snippets instead of epics sometimes and can update more regularly. These will mostly be from Death Note fandom with an LxLightxL pairing. However if the word particularly suits, I may insert a few stories from some of my other favorites here. The shorts are in no particular order, are independent of one another unless noted, and will be marked if they are not canon.
Enjoy my darlings, and remember- I own nothing and am totally not worth suing.
First prompt from Death Note canon, slight Light x L.
BRAND- noun
a markmade by burning or otherwise, to indicate kind, grade,make,ownership, etc.
a mark formerly put upon criminals with a hot iron.
any mark of disgrace; stigma.
L was gone, but the healed scars on Light's left wrist remained.
In those first giddy days of freedom following the fall of the World's Greatest Detective, Light reveled in his victory. He acted his heart out as the bereaved friend, crying and swearing vengeance with impassioned speech and flushed cheeks; it was his finest triumph, to make them all believe in his sorrow for a man who imprisoned and chained and tortured him both physically and mentally. And believe him they did; even skeptical Aizawa placed a bracing hand on Light's shoulder when his voice trembled and broke as he spoke of becoming the new L. If it was just a little too quiet in the huge building when he worked on the computers alone at night…well, he was just too triumphant to notice.
In the first hectic months of work after the Detective's defeat, Light was smugly busy organizing his new empire as both Kira and L. He secured the Eyes by moving in with Misa, changed the Kira Headquarters to his own apartment, and finished his college career with record-breaking scores. The police- the world- began to dance to his tune; criminals were punished in mounting numbers as he hid behind the façade of serious student, then of grieving young man burdened with great responsibility too soon. And if his left arm sometimes felt oddly weightless and Misa's feminine sighs and soft curves seemed somehow off at his side in bed at night…well, Light was just too occupied to dwell on it.
In the third year after L's death, Light became distracted by his ruse. Juggling the NPA, his family, and his dual roles as Kira and L were almost too easy; without his great rival the challenge was gone, the game forever ended. Light often found himself contemplating those months spent chained to his nemesis, and the conversations that flowed between them like water. Some were raging rapids, fraught with sharp rocks and riptides meant to tear Light's soul to pieces. Some were placid as a lake, the simple observations of two like minds. But his favorites were those that babbled like a shallow brook, wit and banter and interest skipping merrily over smooth stones, glittering in the sunlight. Those were the ones that made Light wistful; and if he sometimes came out of his memories too reluctantly, gently rubbing the silvery scar lines on his wrist…well, he was too good at self delusion to acknowledge it.
In the fourth year after he killed Ryuuzaki, Light became aware that his sanity was slipping. Even Ryuk seemed taken aback by his sharpness and cruelty now, at the uncharacteristically reckless hubris that marked his every move. His dreams were haunted by dark eyes and ravens' wings, and sometimes Light could almost see the phantom shape of his enemy-friend in the blued shadows of his computer screens. The nightmares of death and blood were not what broke him though, but the dream-memory of a long-ago September morning. In a moment of rare sleepiness, L had dropped his laptop carelessly onto the nightstand and rolled over to face his surly companion; Light had been relaxed for once, simply watching the patterns the golden sunset cast on the ceiling of their bedroom. L had slipped those long fingers into Light's hair and twisted a lock around them, grinning foolishly at the look of astonishment on his face. The detective's usual monotone was gone, and a half-smile quirked his thin lips as he told Light that his hair and eyes reminded L of the autumn sunset. One digit trailed softly along Light's cheek and across his lips as he whispered to his companion- "Autumn is my favorite time of year, Light-kun". Light awoke from that vision with an actual tear running down his face. Nothing had come from the incident, as Watari had intruded with cake just afterwards, but Light was obsessed now with that one frozen moment in time. Had L been trying to tell him something? Could there have been another fate, another path besides killing the only man who had ever truly seen him? Useless thoughts, traitorous thoughts. And if he only now was able to acknowledge the half-mad emotion that he had felt towards L, if remembrances of fingers in his hair and a stroke of his lips felt more real than actual life…well, it was too damn late now. Light's course was set.
L was gone, but the brand he left on Light's soul would never fade.