Light X Ryuk Novels & Stories

Its color was silver. His lock screen was an image from the Japanese anime Death Note; in particular, the genius character Yagami Light and his shinigami (reaper) Ryuk. His wallpaper showed a handsome man in a suit standing in front of a sports car. With the car, Dion would get on famously with her pa, Kate thought, but not so much with the suit. Mr. Lapuz, like majority of Filipino dads, didn’t own a single suit in his wardrobe.

This was a revolt. A revolt to address every concern and stories behind each server of the Service Hub. A revolution that will shake the world of the red light district in the heart of Tokyo. "He sucks," Arlert, the blonde boy, insulted the client of Ryuu today. The 18 year old lad had done his service for the day an hour earlier than Ryuu who was a rookie in the place.

Ryuou unsheathed a Japanese katana by his side, revealing a gleaming silver blade with rubies and silver dragons adorning the black hilt. Yuri resisted the urge to snarl. Him and his God complex. “You can try.” Yuri stated, readying Odium. “Try to kill me if you can. I am not a Phantom for nothing! And you’ll also do well not to underestimate me!” There was silence for several moments before Ryuou moved forwards with alarming speed and without any warning.

Ru shouted, climbing back to her feet. Ivy didn’t have a chance to answer. The distraction from her own battle had cost her, and she stumbled backward. Luckily, Cutter was free now and was hurrying to her side. Ru turned back to face Lyric whose hands were raised again. This time, it was different, however. As Ru studied her friend’s face, she could see the struggle there. Lyric was fighting for control of her own body. Ru raised her hands and aimed the blue light at Lyric’s midsection, praying she didn’t hurt her friend in the process. “In nomine Dei patris ego mittam te!”

“Do you also think that I am thinking the way he is thinking?” “Enough. That lion is not stupid.” “I know, I know. Are you fully prepared yet?” “There are still some traps I want to put down, but I can do that while fighting.” “Hey.” While the liches were arguing with each other, Ryuka finally spoke. The flaming chains did not have any effect on him it seems. “I can hear you, you know?” The liches had a genuine surprised look on their skulls. They looked at each other for only a moment before arguing again.

Wilbur noticed that the man was in a white suit and had a white briefcase as well. They were dressed similarly in black and white, which seemed to suggest some sort of special relationship between them. The suit guy smirked and replied, "That's a great question. I can tell you that we're assassins from Greensource Corp. We were partners. I am Light, and he is Shadow. Alright, that's all the hints I can give you. So, now, make your choice." "Light?" Wilbur looked at Light and fell into deep thought. He thought, 'Isn't the power of light and the power of destruction different from each other? Is it possible that the power of destruction is able to override the power of light?'

Ryker was pulling one of the chairs over to him. “Switch that off; I want him to see me first,” he said to someone. The spotlight came off, only a dim light remaining. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he saw Ryker’s amused face as he sat with his feet crossed in front of him. Ryker was a big man, bigger than he was. He had scars across his face from all his battles that made other wolves shrink back in fear. Only something truly horrific could cause scars on a wolf, and this one had lived through many of them.

With nearly nothing but large windows on both sides, this place was filled with light. “Veronica?” I called out. “Go straight, until the end of the hall!” her voice answered. I walked forward, quickly reaching the door. I opened it and saw a dimly illuminated room with a table set for two. I passed the threshold, and the door shut behind me. I froze. “Veronica?” I choked out. “Veronica isn't here,” her voice sounded behind me. I spun around, and my heart stopped. Leaning against the closed door, dressed in black combat clothes was Ryuu. He held something in his hand—a phone-size device with a speaker. A voice generator.

An anime played on the screen, the exaggerated voices making it clear she was completely engrossed. I leaned against the doorway, watching her. She was barefoot, her hair loosely tied back, her cheeks flushed as she giggled at whatever ridiculous thing was happening in her show. I shook my head, smirking to myself as I finished the apple in hand. Tossing the core in the trash on my way out, I headed back to the bedroom. When I walked in, something on the bed caught my eye—a tray. Curious, I stepped closer and examined it. On the tray was a neatly arranged salad bowl, a small dish of diced fruit and a glass of water.

Black as the darkest night hair against a crisp linen pillow, brown skin against a blindingly white sheet, and tiger’s eyes burning with deliberate cruelty and triumph into hers. In horrified rejection of the imagery that had sprung into her mind, Lara Anderson shuddered violently, dimly aware that she was still in the grip of severe shock. Abruptly, she was dredged from her turmoil by the insistent shrill of the telephone in the hall. Reluctantly she answered the summons, carefully shutting the lounge door behind her so that her father was not disturbed.