#Kira is intelligent

[couldtheycatchkillerqueen]

Regarding the recent post:

Killer Queen is too short ranged of a stand to affect most sleuths and it's not in Kira's character to drop Sheer Heart Attack at the police departament and hope.

Kira generally doesn't have many ways to deal with characters that: Work in teams. Work from far away. Have any sort of records showing that they're invastigating him.

The man had to be bailed out by Bites the Dust and still lost Most sleuths wouldn't even let Kira get away for long enough for him to aquire Bites the Dust so that's not even something to consider in most of these cases.

{But you're really ignoring one thing: It can't be detected by anyone but Stand Users. Why would they think they needed to investigate Yoshikage Kira specifically? There's no evidence of the killings, since in canon, even the police didn't try to investigate the mysterious disappearances. The sleuths would mostly not be able to understand that Killer Queen exists, and even if they assumed it was something supernatural, there's still no evidence. And the man managed to impersonate another man in front of his family, landlord, coworkers, and everyone who may have talked to Kosaku on the street, with only the man's child catching on. Had Hayato never thought to set up a camera in his parents' room, Kira would have never been caught at all. And Kira doing poorly against teams of people investigating him doesn't line up when he's gotten away from them twice (he would have escaped Jotaro and Koichi were it not for Act III, and he did escape the entire Duwang Gang when they were chasing him by severing his own hand), plus managing to keep his identity secret from EVERYONE except Hayato until the kid figured out how to use the time-loop to his advantage. You're right that most of the time Killer Queen wouldn't get to Bites the Dust, but it would be because Kira wouldn't need to. He has eliminated people in broad daylight before, and he could do so again when against someone who can't see Stands.}

[millionsknives]

im watching death note and this image is the only thing beamed into my empty skull the entire time

[dreamerdrop]

Quark/Ezri is also fun because of the OT4 potential with Kira and Odo thrown in.

Kira/Ezri, Quark/Odo, Kira/Odo... Ezri/Odo would probably also work tbh, albeit perhaps more as a platonic relationship.

Quark/Kira however is forever off the table and Kira is judging both her girlfriends very hard.

[starmocha]

NOT HIM ASKING FOR A DEMO 😭😭😭

[nationallawreview]

Bridging the Gap: How AI is Revolutionizing Canadian Legal Tech

While Canadian law firms have traditionally lagged behind their American counterparts in adopting legal tech, the AI explosion is closing the gap. This slower adoption rate isn’t due to a lack of innovation—Canada boasts a thriving legal tech sector. Instead, factors like a smaller legal market and stricter privacy regulations have historically hindered technology uptake. This often resulted in a…

[polygamousfistingchaos]

Nate < Light < Mihael < L is my honest take on the intelligence debate

[thelawandmore]

The Rise in AI Amongst African Law Firms 

The Rise in AI Amongst African Law Firms

AI is transforming the legal industry in Africa, and some of the leading firms are embracing the power of generative AI to create new content and solutions for their clients. In this blog post, we will explore how three heavyweight African firms are leveraging the advances in legal technology to save time, improve quality, and innovate.  Bowmans is a pan-African law firm with offices in six…

[dollfacefantasy]

FACE DOWN, DOLLED UP ♡

pairing: light yagami x fem!reader

summary: over the past few months, you've reunited with your best friend from college. in the midst of your blossoming connection, he has a special role he wants you to play for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dollification, infidelity

a/n: i wasn't gonna post this till later but i got excited... i love him so bad. he is everything to me. all night. all day. no lube. no protection. i hope my fellow light bulbs enjoy 🙏 and comments and reblogs mean the world to me <3

kinktober slot: day 11 - dollification

"The goddess of the new world. The one I'll keep by my side as I rule. The only being I'll cherish in this reality. That will be you."

The words fell from between Light's lips with ease. To anyone else, they would sound like the absolute truth. After all, he said them with such conviction. But you knew better.

As much as you adore him, you would never call Light someone you trust.

You'd met him at university years ago and had been taken with his intelligence and blunt way of viewing the world. At that time in your life, you weren't sure of anything. You couldn't help but be drawn to someone so absolutely certain of everything.

It was a cult of personality, yet you were the only member. You longed for Light, craved his confidence, which then turned into just basking in his mere presence. You wanted him bad, but the timing just never seemed right between the two of you. He got a girlfriend, and you became swept up in your studies.

Now when he says these words telling you that you're special, you want to believe him. You want him to give you what you yearn for. You want for them to be real so badly, but you still can't fully give in to that hope. Why did he need you so much now when he let you slip away from him for years?

He called you a few months ago, asking to go to lunch. There'd been no reason to decline, so you met up with him the next week to 'catch up.' When you arrived at the small restaurant and took your seat across from him, he smiled at you like you'd just come from your shared lecture all those years ago. You fell into a conversation as if you were still best friends.

After that initial meeting, more followed. You kept seeing him even when he mentioned that he and Misa still lived together. In your head you reasoned that you and him were just friends. It was fine to hang out with your friend. But then your dates started to include lingering looks and fleeting touches. Then soft confessions and stolen kisses. You were no longer Light's friend, but you shamefully continued to come to him time after time.

I loved him first you told yourself.

You found out he was Kira when he confessed several weeks ago out of necessity. Too many people in your circles had died. You couldn't lie for him if you didn't know you should be. He didn't want you mentioning off-handedly that these deaths started happening not too long after your reconnection. Or that they only seemed to occur within days of you complaining about the victim bothering you.

At first, it scared you, finding out that Light had such power. But it also made sense. If anyone you knew could wield the force of death, it would be him.

As with everything else he did, you accepted it. Unlike your compliance with his infidelity, this wasn't your fault though. What was the other option? You didn't believe you meant more to Light than his crusade. Even though he killed for you, he was Kira before your lover. You would die before he lost his war. 

He would take a life for your presumed benefit, but you didn't credit that fact to you being special. Your love didn't blind you to his arrogance. More than you, he loved to show off, craved the satisfaction that came with having ultimate power over someone. Or in his case, everyone.

That's why when he proclaimed you his goddess last week at one of your rendezvous, you were still hesitant to accept the words. 

He lives with Misa. His speeches about having no love for her ring hollow when half of your bed remains empty each night. Why can't he just commit to you instead of trying to fill your head with ideas of divinity?

Tonight, you meet him in a hotel room. One he booked just for the two of you. It was a nice space. Not some cheap place rife with other affairs and unfaithful couplings. The elevator ride to your floor is smooth and quiet. 

He's already inside when you arrive.

You see him sitting on the edge of the bed as you push the door open and enter silently. All the linens were still tucked in place. His eyes lift to meet yours.

"There you are," he says. 

His voice comes out softer than usual. Not with affection necessarily. It almost sounds weary.

You pad over the smooth hotel carpet with caution. Light was never weary. Never showed vulnerability. No one was ever allowed to see weakness from him.

"Are you alright?" you ask, tone matching his in its lack of intensity.

Stopping between his legs, you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb swipes back and forth across his smooth skin. His rich brown eyes linger on your features, a whirlpool of emotions storming within them.

"Yeah," he answers in contrast to what you see.

Curling his fingers around the dips in your waist, he sits you on his thigh and pulls you close on his lap. He noses the curve of your neck, kissing the flesh tenderly and breathing in the smell of you.

"I want to try something tonight. Will you let me?" he murmurs.

"What is it?" you ask, your own fingers stroking through his sandy locks.

The question puts a smile on his face and draws a quiet laugh from his lips. "Don't you trust me?"

You mirror the expression with your own mouth. 

Do you trust him? It’s a loaded question. One you would think deeply about if it were asked in another context. But here, you do what any person desperately seeking the approval of their lover would.

"Yeah."

"Exactly. So say yes, and let me show you," he says.

Staring into his eyes for a few seconds more, you contemplate the request. You had no clue what he was going to do. Why couldn't he just say it? What was there to hide? Maybe it's more of an embarrassment thing. You still don't know even after thinking it over, but you decide to agree anyway. After all, you said you trusted him.

"Ok," you whisper with a small bob of your head.

Upon seeing your little nod, his smile morphs into a grin.

"Good girl," he says and pecks the corner of your mouth.

He moves you off his lap and onto the bed before getting up. Walking to the chair by the window, he picks up a couple bags. They look like nice ones from luxurious stores, names of brands you'd never even heard of displayed across the sleek laminate exteriors. He sets them down at your feet.

"If I'm going to have you by my side as I rule, I want us to be united. I want you presented as if you were made in my image," he says, voice dropping and the words oozing out a bit cooler.

Your eyes watch him as he speaks. So wide and innocent. The ache for his affection visible within them even if you don't want it to be.

He drags two of his slender fingers down your cheek again. When they reach your jawline, he maneuvers your face around. His hand tilts it to different angles as if studying you.

"You're going to be perfect," he says quietly.

Bending down, he fishes the items from the bag and lays them out next to you on the bed. First a black dress made of sheer chiffon with velvet roses laying over obsidian satin. It's the prettiest thing that would ever be on your body in your life.

Next comes a matching pair of glossy pumps. He drops them next to the dress on the mattress before pulling you to your feet. He positions you in front of him looking down his gifts and rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel his eyes on your face, scrutinizing each detail for a reaction.

"Are those for me?" you ask.

"Of course they are. Who else would they be for?" he responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You shrug, your own pupils scanning the items up and down. "They're nice," you continue slowly. This wasn't at all bad, and the pieces were beautiful. They just weren't what you had imagined.

"I want you looking your best when you're by my side," he whispers.

His hands drift down to your hips, and he turns you around. He brushes his nose against yours, coasting his lips by so that they just barely touch your own.

"Let me show you how good it'll feel. Be my little doll for the night," he whispers, his breath tickling your face.

It feels so good being this close. You nod and tilt your head to connect your mouths. He kisses back, palm sliding up to cup the back of your neck.

You get a few more soft smooches before he pulls back.

"Let's get you dressed up then."

He begins to remove the clothes you wore here. Your top is the first thing to hit the floor. It crumples in on itself next to your ankles. You're left bare, little chills erupting over your skin as the cool air hits you. He spins you around slowly and unclasps your bra, letting your breasts fall free.

His hands weave under your arms to come around and cup the mounds. They press into the flesh, absorbing their warmth and savoring the feeling of you. His precious reprieve. His sweetest escape.

Your nipples pebble from the cold and the heat of his hands hitting you all at once. Sighing, you tilt your head back and allow the tension in your shoulders to melt away for now. The same slender fingers that whip a pen around with ease tweak and pinch at the hardened buds until you're whimpering.

After he's satisfied his interest, he lets them go and then removes your bottoms. The button comes undone and the zipper follows. He slides the garment down your legs. To aid him, you step out of it and kick the bundle of cloth aside to sit with your shirt. The move earns you a light pinch to your hip.

"Dolls don't move," he whispers and nips at the skin of your neck, teasing a potential love bite, "They don't do anything on their own. You leave everything up to me."

The words send a chill down your spine. "Sorry, Light," you say softly.

"They don't talk either," he says and kisses up your neck, "They stay quiet and still. Just a good girl for me to play with."

You sink back into him upon hearing that because it's exactly what you want. All you desire is to be good for him. To be the thing he wants to play with. The one he uses to feel safe when everything else is one minute away from spiraling out of control. 

He strips you of your own socks and shoes. You're only left in the dainty panties you arrived in, but he ends up taking those too. He drags them off your legs - you stand completely motionless this time, letting him lift each limb to free you of the underwear. After he shoves them in his pocket, it's time to dress you in your new attire.

He picks up the elegant black dress and steps you into it before shimmying the cloth up your body. Slipping each of your arms into the sleeves, he then zips up the back. The fabric clings to your curves, highlighting your figure in a flattering shape. He rakes his fingers up the dark material, feeling it move with his digits.

Next, he sits on the bed. Even now, Light wouldn't crouch or get on his knees for you. He perches on the edge of the mattress and pulls you onto his lap again. Taking one of your legs behind the knee, he bends it up so your foot rests on his thigh. He grabs one of the heels nearby and unfastens the buckle. Sliding your foot into the sole, he clasps in place again and then repeats the process with your other.

Finally, he stands you up and walks you over to the mirror. The feeling of his eyes moving over your body in the new dress and shoes is palpable. His hands stretch across your belly while he holds you there for his appraisal.

Looking at your own appearance, the image standing before your eyes pleases you. The dress fits perfectly, and the shoes gleam beneath them just right. You look like his. Feel like it too with the way his arms cage you against him.

"You look beautiful. Don't you think?" he says.

You wonder if this is a trick or if you're supposed to know how to answer without moving or speaking. But before you can dwell too much on this, he cups your jaw and squishes your cheeks. His hand propels your head up and down in a little nod.

"That's my girl," he praises, smile absolutely sinister across his face.

Even though you didn't do anything to earn that praise, it makes you swoon all the same. His. Maybe it wasn't just a feeling, maybe it was closer to being real. As long as you showed him that you could be good, that you could listen, he would see that you're the better fit for him.

He pulls a chair up in front of the reflective pane and sits down, perching you on his thigh once more. The side table sitting next to the mirror held another bag like the one your outfit came from. This one was much smaller but still chic looking.

Light reaches for it and fetches a few small items from within. On your lap he places a compact of powders, a tube of lip gloss, some mascara, and a few brushes.

"I want those to stay right where I put them. Knock them off, and I won't give you anything else," he warns.

You don't say or do anything, not even a nod. This pleases him, and he pecks your cheek.

Never did you think you'd see the day where Light did your make up. But here you sit in his lap, obediently calm as he brushed dark powder across your lids and coated your lashes in mascara. You open when he says open, close when he directs as much. You hold your position like a statue as he glosses over your lips and swipes away any excess with his thumb.

Watching you sit there without a move or a word has his cock stiffening up beneath you. You're following everything he says down to the letter, treating him with the respect he deserves. He can't get enough. If he wanted your head to be empty, it would be. You'd sit on his lap or at his feet or wherever he fucking asked because the only thing you need is him, and that's so clear now.

When he's all done, he guides your face back in the direction of your reflection. Your eyes meet the pair looking back at you and then cast on the other version of him. He's staring right back.

"I knew you'd be perfect," he says.

You can feel his semi beneath your thighs. Knowing he's feeling worked up has your body responding in kind. You're still bare down there since he didn't bother replacing your panties. You can feel your folds becoming a little damp, but you still don't move, not a single squirm or whine.

He keeps you there, staring at you, taking in what he had made with your body. His hands roam over your curves, digging into your plush flesh.

"Your hair is pretty enough. I won't have to do anything with it tonight," he praises.

He then boosts you to your feet. His body doesn't follow right away. He takes a moment to stay behind in the chair, admiring your ass and leaning forward to hold your hips between his palms.

"Just look at you," he says.

Now he stands. He walks around you, leaving you in front of the mirror by yourself. He goes back to the bed and sits at the end.

"Come over here," he commands.

You suppose since it's an order that it's ok to move. Your first step is hesitant as you find your footing in the tall heels. It only takes you a couple seconds to get used to them though. You manage to walk the rest of the way with ease.

His cock hardens further as he watches you obey without question. You come to him like a well-trained pet. Exactly what he wants.

When you come to a stop in front of him, he pauses and takes a moment to think. He wanted you now. The urge to undo all his work, nearly insatiable. He tries to pace himself though.

"Do you feel pretty?" he asks you.

You hesitate, but he gives you a nod to speak. "Yeah," you answer.

"Yeah? Can you see your place at my side?" he asks, eyes raking over every detail of your form.

"Yeah."

"That's where you belong, hm?"

"Yeah," you say. It almost comes out a whisper.

He chuckles lowly before waving at you. "Come here."

You take the few remaining steps and close the distance between you two. His arms wrap around your waist and twirl you so you fall back on the bed. He climbs on top, grinding his growing bulge against your hip.

"That is where you belong. And that's where I'll keep you for the rest of our days," he mutters.

He leans down and engulfs your mouth in a flurry of kisses. His hands float across the dress, groping and squeezing your body. He doesn't silence the little whimpers and squeaks that come from you right now. Instead, his mouth drifts to your neck, making good on those love bites he teased earlier.

"You won't have to worry about anything, pet. No thoughts in that little head except being good for me," he mutters.

When he pulls back, his eyes are blown with lust. They focus on you with intensity so passionate it's almost frightening. He grabs your chin and holds you in place as he seemingly inspects your appearance once more.

"Fuck, how could anyone not want to worship you when you look like this?" he mumbles.

He rises back onto his knees, pushing down his fly and pulling his cock out. His fingers rise to fiddle with his shirt's buttons before he shrugs it off too. He doesn't bother with his pants beyond pushing them down enough so they're not in the way. Once his cock is available, he strokes it a few times and lets it fill out all the way.

The sight is enough to have more slick collecting between your thighs, which is fortunate since Light isn't the most patient. On his best days, he was needy for you. On his worst, he was inconsiderate. Right now seems to be a mix of both.

Reaching out, he grabs your thighs and yanks you down the bed to him. Your dress bunches at your hips as it catches between your back and the sheets. It works out since he pushes it up the rest of the way.

Seeing you in the outfit he chose, the shoes he bought, with nothing underneath strokes his ego in a way he can't explain. You being exposed now, no barriers keeping you from him just makes it worse. It brings to mind visions of a future where he could have you whenever he wanted. You'd exist for him, easily accessible, his for the taking. And he'd take advantage of it every moment he could.

He slots his cock at your entrance, rocking forward at first and gathering some of your wetness on it. After seeing the glisten of you on his tip, he rotates himself so he's at the right spot to push in. Your tight hole accepts his shaft inch by inch, clamping around him from the first seconds.

You whine as he splits you open, now squirming beneath his body, unable to stay still.

"Feels too good? My little dolly can't hold herself together anymore?" he taunts breathily.

You shake your head in response, and he laughs. It only encourages him to shove more in.

He has you completely full moments later, hips flush against your center as deep as he can go. You don't get any time to adjust with Light. He wants to fuck now, so that's what you're doing. Along with no talking or moving, you're pretty sure dolls don't get a say on this matter either.

More needy sounds pour from your lips, but he still doesn't get on you for it. It drives his confidence through the roof seeing that someone as well-behaved as you couldn't manage anymore when he slid inside.

His hips push and pull, slamming in and out of your cunt with a steady rhythm. He lifts your legs to sit over his shoulders. The heels he bought and paid for and had fantasized about you in for weeks bobble by his head. He grits his teeth as the pure satisfaction from the thought flows through him.

"Everyone will worship you, and you'll worship me like the good girl you are," he moans more to himself than you as his hips speed up a bit.

You get so tight for him when he talks that he can't stop. Words just keep leaking out in an endless stream.

"Gonna fuck you like this everyday. Put you in new pretty outfits and then bend you over in 'em. Make sure you remember you're mine. Every inch of you, all for me," he grunts.

His thrusts get harder. You feel little tears pricking at your eyes from all the stimulation, but you can't cry. You can't ruin your makeup. Not when he'd been so careful with how he applied it. You sniffle and wipe at your waterline, but lucky for you, he doesn't seem to notice what you're trying to avoid.

"No one else can have you. No one else gets to know how good you feel or how obedient you are. You're the one for me, the one I'll keep," he mutters. The pleasure rushing throughout his body and fogging up his head makes half of it incoherent, but you eat it up anyways.

"Light!" you finally cry out and arch your back when his cock rams against the sweetest spot inside you, "I'm all yours. Swear. Don't want anybody else. Just you. Forever and ever and ever..."

You trail off as he fucks all the thoughts right out of your pretty little head. His body comes down on yours again, bending you in half and sliding against you as he works himself all the way inside over and over. You claw at the thin hotel bedding for some form of relief, but there's no escaping him.

Release builds in your tummy, your toes curl and your breaths become ragged. You know better than to finish without asking though.

"Can I cum, Light? Please, need it so so so bad," you beg, eyes still almost teary.

He looks down. A wave of lust crashes into him as he sees how your lip quivers and water rests at the edges of your eyes, waiting to spill.

"You have been so good for me," he says, wanting a bit more pleading out of you before he gives his permission.

"Mhm! Please. I'll keep being good. Just gotta cum cause you make me feel so good," you whine.

He grins and ruts forward particularly hard. "Go ahead then."

And you do. You cum so hard you feel like your body is gonna twist into knots. You squirm and mewl, noises coming out unfiltered and unrestrained. Your vision goes spotty, and all that's left is him. Him pummeling into you, panting above you, not stopping as you crest over the peak.

He grips onto you harder and keeps fucking you through it. His bangs fall across his eyes from all the movement. You're so warm and tight and wet as you release all over him that it only takes a few more strokes before he shoots his load inside you.

A needy moan seeps from his lips as he works it into you. He thrusts it deep inside, he didn't want any of it spilling out and making a mess on your new dress. At least not the first time the two of you did this.

After he finally pulls out, he lets your legs drop onto the bed. They bounce against the mattress that's too springy. Your chest puffs up and down from the exertion you just went through. After taking a few minutes to come down, you yawn and stretch, limbs sprawling outward to reach for him.

But you don't find him. You turn to see why that is and find his back facing you. He sits at the edge of the mattress hunched over - one of his hands clicks through his phone while the other runs through his sweaty hair. You're about to ask what's the matter, but he turns to you and answers that question himself.

"I have to go. There's a problem back at the apartment. Misa needs my help," he says and rises to his feet.

He straightens out his clothes and tries to make his hair look more presentable. You watch in disbelief. He wasn't even going to stay the night?

"But Light..." you say softly and sit up.

As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out to pet your head.

"I'll see you again soon. It won't be like this for too much longer," he says. You can see the hesitation in his eyes before he makes his next move. He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Keep being good for me. My little doll."

Those are the last words he says before he leaves you there alone.

Flopping back on the bed, you stare at the ceiling in silence. You may have been dressed like a goddess in your expensive get up, but you'd never felt so cheap.

[shieldofiron]

Derek was still getting used to the whole pack being around. Living together was important to establish themselves as a strong and independent pack but of course it would take some getting used to.

Well, actually… there was only one person he had trouble getting used to. He fell into an easy rhythm with all of them underfoot, even Allison.

But God.

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles would walk right into Derek’s chest in the morning, toothbrush dangling from his lips.

“Sorry!” He would say as he tiptoed into Derek’s study and borrowed/stole a pair of sissors that Derek never did get back.

“Sorry,” he said with a mouth full of food after interrupting Derek’s strategy with another (admittedly slightly better) idea.

And now he was blinking up at Derek with those big bambi eyes. A droplet of water slid down his long pale neck, and-

“Sorry. Waters on the fritz in the east wing. I think Scott, Allison and Kira are… ahem… using up the hot water,” Stiles’ heart skipped a beat and Derek forced his eyes back on Stiles’ face.

“What?” Derek barked.

“L-Laura said to use yours,” Stiles supplied quickly.

He was so… annoying. So hard to live with. Always… around. He was everywhere, dusting everything with his scent, trailing off at the end of his sentences and driving Derek up the wall. So human and annoyingly intelligent. So… pale and pink and flushed and wet.

Derek’s eyes slid down without permission and-

“What’s that?”

“Oh,” Stiles laughed, and the husky sound danced in the molecules between them. “Last Friday the 13th, Lydia and I got free bestie tattoos. They match.”

He angles his hip up, the little stars and swirls on his hip dancing against pale skin dusted with hair.

“Hers is on the back of her neck, but my dad would kill me if he saw so…”

There was that trailing off thing. Derek could only blink at Stiles, watching that pretty pink mouth for another word.

“Well… I better be hittin’ that old dusty trail,” Stiles hitched the towel low on his hips a little and Derek’s eyes ping ponged up and down his lithe body. “Thanks for the shower, partner.”

He patted Derek’s shoulder and headed off, presumably to his own room.

Derek spent a long time standing there in his room, his head filled with snatches of this and that and dark ink on pale skin.

Fuck. He would be really hard to live with now.

[starfleetshrimps]

pet peeve of mine in ds9/garak fanfic: when people try to tell me that all the bajorans on the space station hate garak. like no. he runs a tailor shop that is still in business, and isn't even the only tailor's shop on the promenade--that can't all be due to passing merchants, especially because he was running the shop way before the wormhole was discovered and the station became a transportation hub in the first place! also we see him interacting with regular civilian bajorans in public AT LEAST once (which considering his overall screentime is impressive) and the interaction is anything but hostile. sure--KIRA doesn't like him, but kira is a somewhat special case and she also KNOWS HE'S REALLY A SPY.

i think we get too caught up in the "oh that's garak, our resident cardassian intelligence agent, he kills people" of it all that we forget we only know that because we're the audience. Zurpo Zurd who lives in the habitat ring level five with his girlfriend and works as a cashier at Spacely Spockets doesn't know the guy who sold him his newest g-string used to be second in command of the most ruthless network of spies and undercover operatives this side of the quadrant, he just knows that the guy was nice and offered to take his pants in a little at half-price. Granted Zurpo doesn't know what full price is, but surely this lovely gent wouldn't lie to him about that.

anyway my point is not ALL the bajorans hated garak. im sure many of them did! for being a cardassian! but only those who are in need of an obsidian order agent actually know that garak is one--which is not that many in the grand scheme of things. It's just that the poeple who are in need of an obsidian order agent tend to be the most interesting, and therefore the show is mostly focused on them.

Zurpo doesn't know. Zurpo doesn't have to know. Zurpo is fine not knowing.

[purplink8]

My Lawlight headcanon is that-

L fell first:

But Light fell harder:

__________________________________________

Yeah yeah, I'm well aware that the first friend scene was a lie from L's side and a mind game from both sides- BUT look at Light's FACE (and no Light's a good actor but this split second of '...' + transparent eyes is not a performance imho)

He's genuinely stunned (translation: L broke him for a moment there lmao it's like, during that single moment, they're the only ones in the room!) BEFORE he realizes that they are playing a role here in front of the task force. As Ryuga and Light; which is what he tells Ryuk later:

(His eyes are hidden *clenches fists* Light is emotionally affected and does not want anybody to know that L got him. Again.

Except this time, he feels humiliated in a strange sort of way.

Despite everything, including the whole 'enemies till death do we part' thing they have going on? Light enjoyed his time with L (albeit not without the collateral damage of other people dying but I digress). He DID like playing tennis with Ryuga as he tells him. That part's not a lie! L being a good friend is not true though.

L does not want Light as his friend for real. He's bullshitting as always to catch Light off guard. This isn't new. But it. is. Personal (to Light, at least).

Only it shouldn't be! This is all part of their game, isn't it? Then why does Light feel a bit...disappointed due to it not being real? In an alternate universe, would he have liked truly being L's friend?

No! Of course not, that is a ridiculous line of thought! Additionally, just 2 chapters ago, Light was like:

Can you see the lawlight and yagamane parallels here? L intends to catch Kira!Light and poses an execution threat to Light while Misa means to date Light and poses some threats of her own:

Both L and Misa come on too strongly toward Light (one as an enemy and the other as a potential ally). Light merely wants to get rid of them both so as to achieve his keikaku with ease. While dealing with Misa, Light thinks, 'I'll be killing her eventually...I can't develop feelings. That's how most idiots screw up.'

Notice how similar this is when it comes to his dynamic with L as well? He has to kill the latter eventually too and his reaction (to when he's confronted with the fact that Rem *can* kill L at his immediate request before the fiasco of Misa getting arrested happens at least) is this below btw:

The guy is truly shocked at how easy it seems to kill someone as intelligent as L. Light does not smile or seem amused. He takes this (L's future death) very seriously (I think it's the first time he does this since his first two kills). I believe it's partly due to the begrudging respect he has toward the genius detective and partly because of the 'what-if's in his mind.

His eyes, blown wide, are unreadable except for the astonished look they show. It is a rare display of emotion we see from Light (I can't seem to pinpoint just what the emotion is tho) which is quite noteworthy imho.

________________________________________

...Wow I got carried away.

The point is! Light feels a little humiliated for letting his emotions get the better of him even if it was for just an instant during which he was gobsmacked by L's lie which he wished for it to be true.

Light can rationalize it all he wants but deep down, in his heart, he'd always know that there was a period of time (however small) that he not only fell for L's lie, but also secretly under LAYERS of repression actually just wanted to live in that world- the world where there was neither L nor Kira, just Ryuga and his friend Light.

That's wishful thinking and boy would Light hate this if he acknowledged for even a second that yes, he does want that.)

Again. Light 'Developing Feelings = Idiotic Screw ups' Yagami cannot afford to deceive himself that L, on some level, wants to befriend him as that may as well cost his life if he did. He cannot get distracted as that was most definitely one of L's intentions of calling him his 'first friend'.

He'll dutifully play along as he had anticipated it a while ago:

"I like this, Ryuga. If you want to be friends with me. I'll gladly hang out with you."

Light sure looks thrilled as hell to be role-playing as L's friend lmao- like he loves mind games, he revels in duplicity, he enjoys challenges that L adds to his life so is it any wonder that the combination of all is *chef's kiss* for Light? He is so so EXCITED to be hanging out with L face-to-face + looks forward to stabbing him in the back!!

Gotta love lawlight! </3 <3

[catsxratsxbats]

Light Yagami fursona (standard Abyssinian cat)

what kind of cat would light be do you think (rb with breed name + photo pls)

[knivesandteeth]

Love Garak and Kira guiding Damar like the lesbian and gay man on a non-binary person's shoulders except it's as the terrorist victim of past sins trying to move on and the intelligence operative embodiment of past sins trying desperately to be better. Each of them trying to not let this man fuck everything to high hell while blurring the line of victim vs perpetrator until it all seems the same

[vamphorica]

Because I hate being happy for more than two hours at a time, I've been considering to what extent Matt knew that Takada's kidnapping was a suicide mission.

I've been looking at this screenshot while I've been using it as a reference for a drawing and given that the poor boy is only designated sixty-nine seconds of screentime in the anime, I think it is interesting that there's a substantial pause on this specific frame. Matt is surrounded by Takada's bodyguards, unable to get out of the predicament he has found himself in. At this point, he believes there are two possible outcomes: he will either be arrested, or shot dead. You could interpret his expression here as apathetic, as that is how he tends to be characterised, but he sits in his car and looks out towards the row of headlights for about seven seconds. He considers his situation, acknowledging the number of men pointing their guns at him, and then he leaves his car.

The question is, did it occur to him then, or had he known beforehand, that his death was inevitable? Remember – Matt is one of a few characters in Death Note to be killed 'traditionally'. Should we take the Shinigami Eyes into consideration here, we have to assume that Matt is fated to die at this exact moment in time, regardless of circumstance. There is nothing that would have saved him from his demise that day.

However, I do wonder if, at nineteen years old, he is truly apathetic about his own life. I genuinely believe Mello sees his own death as an inevitable sacrifice, but I am not so convinced that Matt actually cares enough about defeating Kira to lay his life down for the cause alone. The manga suggests he leaves his car almost immediately upon being caught, and his final words, sadly, suggest a lack of foresight about the gravity of danger he is in.

Kira's world is not one in which justice prevails as Light envisioned, but rather it is an autocratic reign of terror. There is absolutely no chance in which Matt would be detained in a society in which death is considered the appropriate solution to crime. He is a Wammy's boy, but even if he had not have been associated with the House, Matt would have still been aware that his risk of death is heightened exponentially through his association with Mello alone.

In the anime, when Matt looks out the window of his car, we hear his inner monologue. Nonchalant, there is no fear to be heard in Drew Nelson's performance of the lines, and Matt's awareness of his impending death is presented as being limited. Is it an act? Or is Matt portrayed as lacking self awareness to such an extreme extent? Perhaps to 'justify' Matt's position as the third successor to L, Ohba felt the need to present Matt as ignoring the inevitable, but at least to me, this feels like it greatly undermines his intelligence. He may not be competing against Mello and Near, but that does not negate the fact he was still raised in the same institution that they were. All the children are freakishly smart, that is the whole point.

Did Mello propose the plan to kidnap Takada to Matt with the acknowledgement that they were both likely to be killed? Mello's final thoughts in the manga and anime are asking Matt for forgiveness, his death apparently unanticipated by the former, which feels like a failure in writing the deaths of these two in a manner that reflected who they were.

Matt is, by all accounts, a fandom project rather than a fully developed character within the Death Note canonical universe, but we are aware that Matt was created for Mello. I hardly expect Death Note to explore the intricacies of such themes in the series (particularly given, as much as I hate to admit it, Mello and Matt are not the main characters within the franchise). However, even with the rather minimal source material provided to us by both manga and anime, we are made aware that the two have a very unique relationship. They know each other intimately, and Matt does not fear Mello as many of the other characters in the series do.

Mello does not want Matt to die. He values Matt and while one could attribute the gratitude for him to the popular fan narrative that Matt is the one to look after Mello after the explosion, or indeed the idea that the two are in a relationship, their interactions with one another already set up their alliance as one that appears to transcend the regular boundaries of friendship. Again, I'm pulling a lot from fanon here, I know. Take it up with Ohba.

Narratively, if Mello has to die, so too does Matt. Ohba could not foresee this character that is so dependent on another to live beyond him. Yet I simply refuse to believe that Mello would have placed someone so important to him in a compromising position where the likelihood that he will be killed is almost certain. As much as I believe that Mello's final thoughts being directly addressed to the deceased Matt demonstrates an important ode to their relationship, I cannot understand how Mello would have been shocked to hear of Matt's death, given the risk.

We know Mello was fully aware that he was going to die that night. If he did not die, Near would have, and I think to Mello that would have been the greatest loss he could have suffered in their ongoing conflict. Regardless of whether you believe Mello cared about Near to any extent or not, I genuinely cannot imagine Mello would have been happy to succeed as L had it been attained through Near's 'sacrifice'. I am actually exploring an AU of this very idea in a fanfiction I intend to publish early next year, in case you're interested, haha.

This returns to the question as to when Matt realises he is not surviving this mission. Presumably Mello asked for his cooperation, and in doing so, he would have had to explain the plan to Matt which, quite frankly, reveals Mello's intent to die as soon as it is advantageous to do so. Given that Mello did not want Matt to be killed, did Mello reassure Matt that he had created the plan to guarantee his safety? Did Matt believe him? Was Mello deliberately vague, only telling Matt that he needed to set off the smoke gun, then hit the gas and get away from Takada's security team?

As far as I can tell, there is no reason as to why Mello would have been dishonest with Matt, explaining what he was planning to do and why. Perhaps he even suggested to Matt that he could find someone else to take on his position, given the danger he anticipated they would be in. Matt is, as I think the series makes clear, very loyal to Mello, and so I doubt such a proposal was even considered, but I think it is safe to assume that if Mello knew how this plan would end, so too would Matt, whether Mello explicitly told him or not. He would have figured it out.

When Matt and Mello part ways for the final time, not shown to us in either the manga or the anime, they both know that they are saying their last goodbye to one another. I think Mello hopes that Matt will survive somehow, experience a Kira-free world and move on with his life, but I believe Matt knows, well before he got caught, that there is no escape from the inevitability of his death.

Maybe, when he steps out of the car, confronted by the 'big guns', he holds out a little faith that at least he might see Mello again soon.

[hanna-shut-up]

the sexiest character in star trek is quark because he goes out of his way to mask his extremely high emotional intelligence and sense of empathy with his scumbag persona, which allows him to navigate social spaces where he can be the most effective. it's just so unfortunate that I was banned from the quarkfuckers discord in 2022 for suggesting that kira and odo should keep dukat as their gimp

[walkingstackofbooks]

a year or so after the war, a young, recently-graduated doctor gets off the shuttle on ds9, very excited to begin working in a proper medical team in a proper space station as an actual, proper doctor

and they're so eager to learn and so starry-eyed and so full of enthusiasm and have so many things they want to do and ideas they want

and they're used to people finding them a little annoying in all their talkativity, and certainly they're not quite sure what doctor bashir makes of them because while he's very patient and kind, he doesn't smile that much and has a strange sort of look in his eyes whenever they start rambling on too much

but a number of the staff seem to take to them quite quickly and at some point they start overhearing themself being compared to doctor bashir? and not in like, a medical way, which would be ridiculously exciting because doctor bashir is extraordinary and they'd love to be thought of as that intelligent--

but no, it's more... well, it's like people think they've got a similar personality? and they just don't see it. sure, he's very passionate and dedicated to his work, but... excited? eager? not really.

they mention it to a friend, a bajoran nurse who's also recently joined the station. "lieutenant commander mayfield called us two peas in a pod," they say. "and I heard colonel kira joke that "whether or not he has too much work, cloning's supposed to be illegal". are we really that similar?"

"You're practically identical," their friend replies, taking them aback before they realise she's just being sarcastic. "On one hand, a tight-lipped, serious, solemn genius-war-hero, and on the other a bubbly, impetuous, far-too-excitable idiot doctor. Yes. I see the resemblance."

"Exactly," they reply, feeling vindicated.

"... Hey!" they add a few seconds later, realising they'd just been insulted.

they do wonder, though, why they continue to get these comments from anyone who's been serving on DS9 for years. maybe the doctor had been different when he was younger, but no-one can change that much, right? 35 seems practically ancient (well, at least decently middle-aged), but even so, they can't imagine growing up to be anything like their new mentor

it's a mystery