Adam-whiteley - Noel

I've looked through your posts, but I didn't find the answer (I am stupid), so I'll ask you here.

You always analyze Milverton from the point if him being a commoner. Please, I want to know how and why you came to this conclusion (so I can convince my friends - that *is* a much more interesting reading than him being a noble).

Thanks!

Hi, thank you for the question! Yes, I never analyzed why I think that he is not a noble - because it is a FACT stated by the manga.

It literally mentions that Milverton is not the member of the nobility.

And he definitely wasn't born into some non-noble upper class family either - yes, this is now the theory field, but the hints to this are very strong.

Milverton talks about that he needs patrons and that he keeps his power and influence with blackmail. If he was from a notable family with a background influential on its own, he wouldn't need to do this, because his power would be well-established already. So his companies weren't some family heirloom, but something he himself gained with hard work (khm, blackmail).

When Jack, who served at noble households and who sure knew about every notable person in London due to this, talks about Milverton, the only information he has to tell that he is an influntial businessman but not a noble. If Milverton would have born into a high-class family which already had influence, he would surely mention that. And Albert mentions that he only met Milverton once in social conventions, which also means that Milverton's social circle is not that tied to the high-class aside from the business matters.

Both the Morigang's talk and Milverton talking about himself present him as a self-made man, not a lucky boy who now has a playground because his parents died and left him one. I have a longer analysis on Milverton's possible birth actually.

But back to your question, Milverton not being a noble is not my conclusion, but an actual fact.

Death Note — Interpreting the Foot Scene

So, since I’ve never actually seen an in-depth meta on the foot scene, I thought this needs to happen. :) [read on ao3]

The Foot Scene

[Watch here] L and Light come inside from the rain, and Light sits on the stairs, his shoes sitting next to him on the ground. L stands to the side, with a towel on his head.

L: (walking over) Well, that was certainly an unpleasant outing. Light: (drying off his hair) It’s your own fault. I mean, what did you expect? L: (offscreen) You’re right. I’m sorry. (L takes the towel off of his head and walks closer. Light is still drying his hair and face, but then startles. You then see that L has crouched by Light’s feet and is holding one of Light’s feet in his hand.) Light: What are you doing? L: (looking up at him) I thought I might help you out. You were busy wiping yourself off anyway. Light: Look, it—it’s fine, you don’t have to do that. L: I can give you a massage as well. (Light looks startled) L: (offscreen, continued) It’s the least I can do to atone for my sins. I’m actually pretty good at this. (Light glances away, looking resigned) Light: Fine, do what you want. L: (offscreen, in tones of someone getting down to business) All right. (Now you see L, looking pensive. He brings his hand, holding the towel, up to Light’s foot. Light makes a pained noise and the scene cuts to a wide shot.) Light: Hey! L: You’ll get used to it. (Light, in a close-up, looks utterly thrown, but makes a small noise of assent. The shot changes to L, where all you can see, with his head down, is the mess of his hair. A drop of water drips from the end of his hair, the sound clearly distinct in the otherwise silent scene [there’s been no music or anything]. The shot then changes to Light’s foot, and you hear as well as see the droplets from L’s hair landing on Light’s foot. The shot changes to Light, watching L who is now offscreen. He reaches over to grab his own towel and brings it over to L’s face. The shot is now on L in profile.) Light: (drying L’s hair) Here. You’re still soaked. (As Light’s hand retreats, L looks up, and then back down.) L: (quietly) I’m sorry. (soft piano music now begins. L starts drying off Light’s foot again. When the shot goes back to Light, he looks pensive too. There’s silence for some time, barring the music, as the shot changes back to L in profile, looking somewhat distressed. Then back to a wide shot in profile that rises toward the ceiling and the windows letting in natural light. After that, the view changes to the ceiling and its cross-shaped walkways with blue lighting above it, and then back to a wide shot of L and Light, this time facing the stairs.) L: (thoughtful, quiet) It’ll be lonely, won’t it. Light: Hm? (L looks up at Light pointedly and determined. With the shot head on, he says) L: You and I will be parting ways soon. (Light seems thoughtfully startled by this point, and looks perhaps like he’s considering something or is struck by the situation and stuck in the moment. The phone then rings, pulling them out of it, L stands up and answers the phone.) L: Yes? (Now the shot shows L in the foreground, with Light giving him a dark look in the background). L: I understand. I’m on my way. Light: (still glaring at L, baffled) Huh? (Now the shot is a wide shot again, and both their bodies are cut off since the shot is from behind them on the stairs). L: Come on. Let’s go, Light. (Closer in on L, with his back to the viewer) It seems like it’s all worked out. (He walks away.) (The shot changes back to Light’s baffled and angry face as he too stands up). Light: huh?

Basically, L is thoughtful, sad, and a bit smug, while Light is just: ?????

Keep reading

Call to Account: A Takada/Light Fic

Mature || 2.4k words Read on AO3 Written for @dnrarepairweek: Judgement Contains: 24/7 D/s dynamics, top!Takada/bottom!Light, negotiated kink, allusions to CNC, a very queer marriage In which Takada's loyal husband, Light, is disciplined for his transgressions.

She steps closer, into his circle of his reach and then closer still, until their chests nearly touch, then reaches out — he flinches, more out of instinct than fear — and strokes two fingers down the line of his buried cheekbone, across his jaw, turning her hand as she goes until, by the time her hand has reached his chin, she is cupping him in her palm. She grips him, a thumb against his lip, her fingers pressed against the soft dip where his mandibles meet, and tugs downwards, gentle. He follows the arc of the call, bending to meet her.

in-ear || a light/takada ficlet

rated E • <1k words • read on ao3 • for @dnrarepairweek

“Kiss her, Light-kun.”

Matsuda’s voice in my ear feels more like a mosquito than my trusted advisor, but the idea of Matsuda as a trusted advisor is laughably insane to begin with.

I don’t want to kiss her. What I want to do is rip out my earpiece, run to the bathroom, and throw up my guts until I am embraced by death’s loving arms.

Unfortunately, that would require pulling my dick out of Takada, who is currently clenched around me to the point where I fear I might need WD-40 to remove myself. Maybe I can infect myself with botulism in the next two minutes.

I know from last time that Takada would continue until I finished, and my lack of a vagina makes that impossible to fake. She’s sitting on top of me, caressing herself with lascivious performativity, fingers in her short, black hair.

It looks almost like L’s.

I try not to think about him, but he surfaces again and again. He’s like herpes. You might clear him for a couple of weeks, a month, even—but eventually he’ll return like the pus-filled boil he is. Was.

To make one thing absolutely clear, L and I never had sex, despite the myriad allegations and off-color jokes suggesting the contrary. Sex is for people who love each other—or, at least, like each other. What L and I did was far more disgusting.

“Light,” Matsuda sighs into my ear. “Please take this seriously. Give her a kiss.”

I swallow the bile rising in my throat. Takada’s lips are full and pink. I reach up and run my thumb across the lower one to buy myself time.

“Takada,” I say. “You look so beautiful like this.” I hope my dyspeptic expression can somehow be read as awe.

L and me. I don't know how to explain it. There were knocked-over water glasses and twisted up sheets and handprints on the shower door. It wasn't sex. We didn't even kiss. We merely spoke into each other's mouths. There were moments in the middle of the night where he would turn a certain way, just so, and then I would be on him somehow, struggling to pin him down, my knee at his groin as he grabbed my wrists. My eyes would roll back in my head and I would say his name and everything would go blank, but it wasn't sex.

When the moon cut through the room like a razor, we didn't speak. We could barely even look at each other. I would open my mouth like a goldfish and shut it moments later, having said nothing. I searched for the words I wanted to say to him which were, of course, I love you.

“Good one, Light.” Matsuda’s voice is starting to make me want to kill myself. I look around the room for a weapon. Maybe I could bash my own head in with the tea kettle. I’m so glad there’s a kitchenette in this godforsaken hotel room.

“Light, don’t stop.”

It’s unclear exactly what she doesn’t want me to stop because I’m just lying on my back while she moves all around in a way that feels vaguely good in the highly localized dick region but also makes me spiritually ill. Maybe she doesn’t want me to move my hands from her thighs? I grip them a little tighter.

Her legs are soft and hairless. It’s like fucking a dolphin. L wasn’t especially hirsute, but he was pricklier and bonier than she is. And, like I’ve said until I’m blue in the face, we never had sex, anyway.

Takada lifts her arms up to pull her own hair. It’s a little bit ridiculous, but it makes her breasts look high and round like apples. If you like that sort of thing.

I don’t know if I like anything. I can’t stand Takada, and Mikami is one of the most horrendously obsequious people I’ve ever met. I’m sure I could fuck him if I wanted to, but the thought churns my stomach. And Misa—I can’t even think about her without retching. The thought of fucking her is so repellent that it almost makes me enjoy fucking Takada.

I remember this one time. L had me on my back and was sitting on my chest, breathing hard. He had taken the chain that connected us and wrapped it around my neck. It wasn’t dangerous, but we were play-acting like it was. He squeezed and squeezed until I got so hard I thought I might faint. He didn’t touch me—he just sat on my chest, strangling me, until I came by accident. His presence was immaterial. Like I said, we never had sex.

Takada comes, or pretends to, at least. It's a bizarre display, her trembling and grasping at me and thanking me like I did anything at all. She rolls off me and ambles to the bathroom, looking flirtatiously over her shoulder. From behind, her hair makes her look like L. I don't know why I keep thinking that. He wasn't a woman, and I never saw him naked.

I hate her.

I hate myself.

I should die so I don't have to do this again.

But I can't. The world needs me.

Guns

i am very sorry to anyone who might be waiting for something creative from me unfortunately i am in the middle of a family drama once again right before the final exams god i hate my life

good news is that it is interesting for anyone who isn't involved so i may or may not write something about it afterwards

haha fuck my life. anyway. at least it looks like i'm getting a job soon so

That post about death note being "everyone's first anime" (untrue statement) made me curious and now I want to gather data for science

Can you reblog this and tell me where are you from and what was your starter anime?

dash is dead im teleporting to the past

https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard?max_post_id=606474489540042752

I do want to elaborate why I think this ship works so well (Mycroft Holmes / L Lawliet).

First of all, we know that they respect people of the same level of intelligence. Dare I say they are on each other's level which will bring them closer to each other.

They're both very closed off about their feelings, but we can see that Mycroft does open up to people he trusts (in canon, that person is Albert).

Now, in AU where they work together, be it MI-6 or just some detective agency, they are bound to spend a lot of time together working. And as they gradually grow closer due to their similarities, Mycroft just might to spill his secrets and tell about how he feels.

And at first that would be very overwhelming for L. Sharing problems? Talking about feelings? That's unheard of. But then it would create a sort of a safe space for him to be vulnerable as well. He would just listen for a while. Most of Mycroft's problems are similar to his, after all. He would appreciate having someone who can put his own feelings to words.

Then he would start talking, too. He would still be afraid, but Mycroft's patience and kindness would inspire him to confide in one person he can.

They both are very silent about their feelings, and having that one friend (I doubt they would call each other friends, though) might be their salvation.

That's all I have to say today.

ohhh, i have just pissed off a good chunk of russian fandom and got told to a) lock myself up somewhere and throw away my phone, b) visit a psychologist, c) kms.

another thing they said is that we're not in english fandom. my friends told me that i should post it here. so i will. after i translate it.

and remember, not all in our fandom are like that. no. idiots are just a bit more socially acceptable there.