#l: longer

[zillychu]

hey, when danny said he liked space, do you think...

[solifloris]

sir you have my everything sir

[numbuh424]

ok hear me out

weird guy that's hot = L

hot guy that's weird = Light

[ashleander]

To kick off the new year, here’s some pieces (4 new ones along with 3 older ones that I redrew for fun).

[empressofthewind]

Honestly it always makes me a little upset when people say Near is a copy of L/too similar to him, because as much as that's the point of his character, I also don't even think it's that accurate?? Visually he's similar, but in personality, there are a lot of key differences that get overlooked in favour of the cosmetics. Their treatment of Light/Kira is a major one that comes to mind, with regards to the notable respect L shows towards Light and his methods. Near is also quite a bit more expressive than L; L mostly alternates between "deep in thought" and "mildly annoyed", with some minor flexibility outside of that, whereas Near has a distinct look of excitement when things are going his way, looks distraught when his team members die, and gets angry several times to the point of physically breaking things. Near's manner is more blunt, and he's a much bigger nuisance to Light on the basis that he's more inclined towards brutal honesty, whereas L is a notorious liar with a habit of deception. Near also focuses more on morality in his approach to the Kira case, and doesn't have the same ego or personal investment in detective work that L does. L is a lot more physically active than Near too, with his record as a tennis champion and occasional tendency to pace while speaking. The move to enrol in college, for example, is not something I could ever see Near doing. Near was specifically groomed to be L's successor, so there's definite overlap in their attitudes and methods, but they're actually quite different characters if you look beyond the surface, and I think it's important to treat Near as a unique character who takes on L's role rather than an outright clone.

[qinluna]

do you guys know how funny it’d be being in a polycule/throuple situation with zayne and sylus where you end up pregnant & they’re both seething with tension and banter about who the kid belongs to and the clownery is that you give birth to twins who resemble each man respectively

[clownsuu]

Hey I'm Panic, and it's time to Gay!

Biblically accurate gay people jumpscare

[otaku553]

[tcustodisart]

Redesigned Connectidad's torn ear to look more visible. It was his daughter that bit it off during the first time she turned into a werewolf.

[tellioari]

Mantis mob for the dye mod! This is a new mob that will attack and consume other bugs, and is (mostly) neutral to the player. The mantis can rarely spawn on the surface during the night, and they can spawn in dark oak forests at any time.

The mantis will attack the player if especially hungry or if they feel threatened, but will usually leave them alone. Mantises can be tamed if the player builds enough trust with it by bringing it bugs to hunt - this will allow them to attack and eat more types of hostile mobs, like zombies and husks. Mantises prefer to walk, but they can fly short distances if need be.

[captainhysunstuff]

Content Warning: Implied nudity and marks from prior saucy shenanigans ahead! Nothing explicit is shown.

15 more images below the cut:

After figuring out how to properly engage in sexual intercourse, L asks to hear the origin story of Light's Kira career to understand their situation better. Following a brief interaction with Ryuk, L is slightly reassured about the shinigami's role in Light's life. Then, the boys decide to get saucy again (to the shinigami's chagrin).

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Previous super abridged (safer)

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Master List

Transcript

[bottledclown]

me and the hot githyanki i pulled by being autistic

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

I need this in my life-

[catbolt]

— Merry Christmas, Dr. Zayne

[SOUNDTRACK] Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence - Ryuichi Sakamoto || ▶︎

[TAGS] zayne x mc, fluff

[WC] 1.3k

songfic 4/?

Snow crystallizes on tree branches outside in the light of the falling winter sun, each ray refracting through the icicles that frame the window and splitting into thin beams that run like streams onto the wooden floor inside. She sighs, staring out the window, mug of cocoa clenched between cold hands.

She anticipates him coming home late again. "You know, emergency room visits spike during the holiday season," Zayne had told her with a smile in the morning as he prepared to leave.

"You're not even an ER doctor," she grumbled, arms crossed. He'd laughed softly. "When people need help, I help, my dear. It's non-negotiable."

Times like this she begrudges his unrelentingly chivalrous spirit and sense of justice, although it's usually one of the qualities she likes the most about him. She waits on the couch, feeling more than a little restless. She had hoped to spend at least some part of Christmas Day with him, but as the hours ticked by on the clock, the chances of that grew slimmer and slimmer.

She doesn't text Zayne, not wanting to bother him, knowing he's likely stressed at work. She gets up from the couch with a sigh, deciding to at least busy herself with some cleaning. Her presents for him sit below the tree, untouched.

The sun sinks lower, quickly, and she grimaces, its descent through the clouds a constant reminder of the fact that the hours in this special day is running out, and so far she's spent it nearly all alone. She tidies up the dinner table, mindlessly searching through the cabinets for what to make for dinner. If Zayne won't be joining her to chastise her for her poor diet, a box (or two) of mac n cheese should do the trick to soothe her feelings.

She sighs, bending down in the pantry to grab the boxes in question, when suddenly she hears a click of the door unlocking. She shoots up in surprise, promptly banging her head into the top of the pantry cabinet. "Fuck!" she cries out, eyes screwed up in pain as she massages the back of her head.

"Hm. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting to me coming home like this."

Zayne's soft, chuckling voice filters in from the foyer, getting louder with each word. When she opens her eyes, still rubbing at the back of her head, she sees him standing in the kitchen entryway, a lush bouquet of white roses and jasmine tucked under his arm. She splutters a little, watching as he presents it to her, a small smile on his face.

"What's this about?" she says softly, taking the bouquet from him, a gentle pink flush rising on her cheeks.

"What, I can't give my girlfriend flowers?" He steps closer, closing the space between them. He's still in his white coat and scrubs underneath, and she can see the slight tiredness in his eyes. "Besides, they're an apology."

"For what?" she mutters, setting the bouquet down on the dining room table.

"For not being able to spend more of Christmas with you," he murmurs, capturing one of her hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I know you weren't happy that I had to work. I'm sorry. It wasn't ideal."

She feels a mild pang of guilt. He hadn't seemed bothered by her pouting and whining about it all of Christmas Eve, brushing it off at every turn with his signature even-keeled demeanor. But she'd misjudged him, it seems, as she searches his gaze, seeing his brow furrow slightly. "I really am sorry," he says quietly. "We couldn't open presents in the morning because I had to go to work."

"Oh..." she shakes her head. "Don't... worry about that."

"I do worry," he says softly, lowering her hand from his lips, but keeping his hold on it, thumb skating soothingly over the back of her hand. "I know it's important to you."

"It's not a big deal," she says hastily. "You didn't have to come today if--" "I wanted to come back," he says, voice carrying a bit of a harder edge now, an authoritative quality signaling it's not up for debate. "I wanted to see you. And to give you my gift."

She sighs a little, still feeling guilty. "The flowers are beautiful, Z. But you didn't have to rush back--"

His brow furrows. "That's not the gift," he says gently.

He guides her over to the couch, gesturing for her to sit down. "Just a moment," he says softly, walking off to retrieve his bag, which he begins to rummage through.

The sun has set quickly, the room now enveloped in darkness, the only light source now being the Christmas tree. The soft white lights send pinpricks of light dancing across the room. She hears a match flick, and turns around to see Zayne lighting a candle behind her, setting it down on the coffee table. A small smirk plays at her lips. "Getting romantic, are we?" He lights another candle, placing it nearby. "No," he says matter-of-factly. "Just a moment. You'll see."

She almost rolls his eyes at his inability to go with the joke, the grin lingering on her lips. He sits down on the couch opposite her, and then produces an unassuming box, flat and rectangular, tied with a dark gray ribbon. It fits in both of his hands, and he hands it over to her. "Your gift."

She looks down, fingers working through the ribbon and gently untying it. She hesitates for a moment, and then opens the box.

Inside lies a stunning, thin silver necklace, adorned with what looks like hundreds of soft blue gemstones that twinkle alluringly as soon as the candlelight hits them. Each gemstone is tear shaped, like a shimmering droplet of rain.

"Zayne..." her breath catches in her throat.

"Do you like it?" he says softly, with a hint of hesitation in her voice anyone but her would miss. She nods, and he lets out a soft hum of relief, gently lifting the necklace from the box and moving closer to fasten it around her neck.

"I lit the candles because I wanted to see how it looked in their light," he mutters softly, his breath ghosting over her ear as he attaches the necklace around her. He pulls away, his eyes watching how the glittering stones seem to dance and shift in the light.

"Beautiful," he says, voice a little hoarser than usual. She swallows softly, the space between them nearly pulsing, reverberating with unsaid words. She knows Zayne isn't much of a talker, but she's learned to be attuned to his face and body enough that she can read his emotions like a book, a consequence of the past year they've spent dating. She sees him fidget slightly, the pulse thrum slightly faster in his neck, the way his eyes flick between the jewelry and her eyes, as if watching to see how the candlelight dances there too.

"Thank you," she says, her voice thick with emotion as she takes one of his hands in her own. It's cold, as his hands always are, and she scoots a little closer to him on the couch. "It is beautiful."

He clears his throat. "I was talking about you," he says.

It's like the world falls blissfully quiet-- even the weight of all the things that they can't find the words to say say feels lighter suddenly. The feeling of his hand in hers, slowly warming between her palms, grounds her in this moment.

The tree glows softly, the lights flickering like thousands of little fireflies, casting a golden glow across the room. Under the mask of the dim light, it's like the exhaustion is erased somehow from Zayne's features, and all she can see is the warmth in his deep, forest green stare, desperately trying to push forth. She squeezes his hand. "Merry Christmas," she says softly.

"Merry Christmas," he replies, in a whisper, squeezing back.

[lesbianspeedy]

anyways. thinking always about mia never wearing a skirt or dress again after her first issue.

thinking about her almost always having her hair in a ponytail after her first issue. (and the few times she doesn't, its when shes at home and particularly stressed out. when ollie was lying to her about joanna, after her diagnosis, after red hood. this was all on purpose to ME)

thinking about her fingernails, painted black in her first issue, being painted pink or red every issue after

thinking about her in her crop tops and cargo pants. in pink shirts and jeans. in jackets and sneakers and too-big tees and pyjamas. in the safety of wearing clothes for no one but herself